Carroll free press. [volume] (Carrollton [Ohio]) 1834-1861, 1848-06-09
From the Union Magazine.
THE POWER OF LOVE.
BY L. MARIA CHILD.


Il was one of lreland's greenest lanes that
wound It's way down TO ripping brook in the
rear Of Friend Goodman's house. And there,
by noun Of rocks that dipped their messy
feet in the rivulet, Friend Goodman walked
slowly, watching for his liltle daughter, who had
been spending the day with some children in the
neghborhood. Presently, the small maiden
came jumping along with her bonnet thrown
back, and the edges Of her soft brown ringlets
luminous in the rays Of the setting sun. Those
pretty curls were not Quakerly; but Nature, who
pays no more attention to the regulations of El-
deEs. than she does TO the edcts of Bishops,
would have il so. At the slightest breath of
moisture, the silky hair rolled into spiras, and
clustered round her pure white forehead, as if
it loved the westinghouse. Jumping, likewise,
was not a Quakerly proceeding. But liule Al
ice, usually siaid and demure, in imitation of
those around her, had met with new compan-
ion, whose temperament was more mercurial
than her own, and she was yielding to its mag
netic influence.
the grandson of an Italian lady, who had mar.
ried an Irish absentee, resident in Florence
Her descendants had lately come to Ireland, and
taken possession Of estates in the immediate
neighborhood o. Friend Goodman, where little
Camillos foreign complexion, lively tempera-
ment, and graceful broken language, rendered
him an object Of great interest, especially among
Ihe children. He ii was with whom little Alice
was skipping through the green lane, bright and
free as the wind and sunshine that played among
her curls. As the sober father watched their
innocent gambos, he fell his own pulses quick
en-, and his motions Involuntary became more
rapid and elastic than usual. The little girl
came nesting up TO his side, and rubbed her head
upon his arm, like pelted kitten. Camille
peeped roguishly from behind the messy rocks,
kissed his hand to her, and ran of, hopping first
on one foot and then on the other.
"Dostt thou like that little boy inquired Friend
Goodman. as he stopped to kiss the darling.
"Yes, Camillos a pretty boy, like him, she
replied. Then with skip and bound, which
showed that the electric was still Ieaping in her
veins. she added "He's funny boy, too; he
swears you all the time"
The simple child, being always accustomed TO
hear thee and thou, verify thought you was a
proiane word. Her father did what was very
unusual with him; he laughed outright, as he re-.
piled, "Whal strange boy is thai"
"He asked me TO come down to the rock and
play, tomorrow. May | go after SCHOOL," she
asked.
ave will sec what mother says" he replied.
"But where didst thou meet Canilol"
"He came to play with US in the lane, and De.
borah and John and went into his garden 10
see the birds. Oh, he has got such pretty brds
There's nice iule meeting house in the gar
den; and there's a woman standing there with a
baby. Camille calls her my donny. He says
we mustn't play in there. Why not7 Who is
my donny"
"The people in Italy, where Camille used to
live, call the mother of Christ Madonna" repli.
ed her father.
"And who is Christi" she asked.
"tle was holy man, who lived a great many
years ago. read 10 thee one day about his Ia.
king gnle children in his arms and blessing 4"
81 guess he loved little children almost as we'll
as thou" said Alice. "But what do they put
his mother in that little meeting house for!''
Not deemlng 1t wise to puzzle her busy little
brain with theological explanations, Friend Good.
man turned her attention to small dog, whose
curly white hair soon displaced The Madonna,
and even Camille, from her thoughts. But the
new neighbor, and the conservatory peopled with
birds, and the little chapel in the garden, made
a strong impression on her mind. She was al
ways talking of them, and in alier years they
remained by far the most vivid picture in the
gallery Of childish recollectons. Nearly eve.
ry day, she and Camille met at rhe messy rock,
where they planted flowers, and buried flowers
IN clover leaves, and launched little boats on the
stream. When they strolled towards the con.
servatory, the old gardener was always clad TO
admit them. Flowering shrubs and gaudy par.
rots, so bright in the warm sunshine, formed
such cheerful contrast to her own unadorped
home, that little Alice was never weary with
gazing and wondering. But from all the bril-
liant things, she chose two Java sparrows for
her especial favorltes. The old gardener told
her they were Quaker birds, because their fea.
theirs were all of such soft, quiet COLOR
Bright little Camille caught up the idea, and
said, 81 know what for you so much do like
them: Quaker lady-birds they be.'
"And she's Quaker lady-bird, toe, ;" said the
old gardener, smiling, as he pa,ted her on the
head; "shes nice little lady ybrd.''
Poll Parrot heard him, and repeated, "Ladv.
Bird" Always after that, when Alice entered
the conservatory, 'heparrot laughed and scream
ed, "Lady .bird!'
Near the door were two inches partially con-
cealed by network of vines; and in the mich.
es were statues of Two winged children. Alice
inquired who they were; and Camille replied,
"My little sister and brother. Children Of the
Madonna now they is" His mother had told
him this, and he did not understand wha, it