The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1848-02-05

mouths that we soon had to feed. We Ina
no very great prospects before us; but ne,
rr wanted TO he idle, and thought il ma
Ter Of course that the Lord would help M,
because ! WINS willing TO help myself"
"And Didn't He help thee, frlend?" demar
ded Josiah, with some eagerness.
"No," said the yeomnn sullenly; "for the
You would not have seen me here. hay
laborcd hard for years; and my means hnv
been growing narrower, and my living poOl
'rr, and my heart colder and heavier, all lii
time; till at last ] could bear il no longer
! set myself down 10 calculate whether
had best go on the Oregon expedition, o
come here TO the Shaker village; but hnt
not hope enough left in mo to begin tn
world over again; and to make my story shor
here am. And now, youngster, take my
Ndvice,and turn back; or else, some few year
hence, you'll have TO climb this hill, with n
heavy heart rs mine"
This simple story had strong effect OF
the young fugitives The mistortunes of the
poet aud merchant had won little sympathy
from their plain good sense and unwordIy
feelings, qualities which made them such I'm.
preiudiced and inhexibe Judges, that icw
men would have chosen TO take the opinion
of this youth and maiden, as to the wisdom
or folly of their pursuits. But here was one
whose simple wishes had resembed their
own, and who, after efforts which almost
gave him right to claim success from fate,
tnd failed in accomplishing them.
"But thy wife, friend" exclaimed the
young man. "Wiat became of tho pretty
girl, like Miriam? Oh, / am afraid she is
deadm
"Yea, poor man, she must he dead, she
and the children too" sobbed Miriam
The female pilgrim had been leaning over
the spring, wherein lattery tear or two
might be seen to fall, and form its little cir
Gle on the surface of the water She now
looked up, disclosing features still comely,
hut which had acquired an expression Of
iretfnlness, in the same long course of evil
fortune that had thrown sulIen gloom over
the temper of the unprosporous yeoman.
81 am his wife," said SIZE, II shade of irri-
liability just pcrcepible in the sadness Of her
tone. "These poor little things, asleep OH
the ground, are two of our children. We
had two more, but God has provided better
for them than we could, by taking them to
himself"
"And what would thee advise Josiah and
me to do ?" asked Miriam this being the first
question which she had put to either ofthe
strangers.
"'Tis thing almost against nature, for a
woman to try to part true lovers" answered
the yeoman's wife, after a pause; "but I'll
diving words. Though my husband told you
some Of our troubles, he didn't mention the
greatest, and that which make all the rest so
hard to bear. lyon aud your sweetheart
marry, you'll be kind and pleasant to each
other for n year or two, and while that's the
casc,you will not repent;but hy-and-by hell
grow gloomy, rough and hard to please and
you'll be peevish, and full ofliule angry
fits, and apt to he complaining Ivy the fireside
when he came 10 rest himself from his
troubles out of doors; so your love will wear
away by little and little, and leave you miser-
ublc at last 1t has been so with us; and yet
my husband and were true lovers once, if
ever two young folks WERE"
As she ceased, the yeoman and his wife
exchanged glance in which there was more
and warmer affection, than they had sup
posed to have escaped the frost of n wintry
fate, in either of tIIeir breasts. At that mo-
mont, when they stood on the utmost verge
,ofmarried life, one word fifty spoken, or per-
haps ore peculiar look, had they had mutual
confidence enough to reciprocate it,:mieht
have renewed all their old feelings, and sent
them back, resolved to sustain each other
amid the struggles of the world. But the
crisis past, and never came again. Just then
also, the children, reused by their mothers
voice. looked up, and added their willing &C
cents to the testimony borne by all the Can
terbury Pilgrims, against the world from
which they fed.
ave are tired and hungry" cried they
ais it far to the Shaker vllage?"
The Shaker youth and maiden looked
mournfully into each others eyes. They had
but stepped across the threshold of their
homes, when 10 the dark array of cares and
sorrows that rose up to warn them back
The varied narratives of the strangers had
arranged themselves into n parable; they
seemed not merely instances of woefu fate
that had befallen others, but shadowy omens
of disappointed hope and unavailng'toil do
nestle grief, and estranged affection, that
would cloud the onward path of those poor
fugtives. But after one instant's hesitation,
they opened their arms and sealed their re-
solve with as pure and fond an embrace, as
ever youthful love had halowed.
ave will not go back" said they. "The
world never can be dark to us, for we will
always love one another"
Then the Canterbury Pilgrims went UP
" the hill, while the poet chanted n drear and
desperate stanza of the Farewell TO his Harp
fitting music for that melancholy band
They sought home where all former ties of
nature or society would be sundered, and al
old distinctions levelled, and cold and pas.
sionless security be substituted for mora
hope and fear, as in that other refuge of the
worlds weary outcasts, the grave. The low
ers drank at the Shaker spring, and then
with chastened hopes, but more confidine
affections, went on TO mingle in an untried
life.
fnF Working men of New Hampshire
remember that the National Administration
are doing all in their power to levy tax of