Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1848-05-25

| pluCCu III Il splenuiu Olu ClldlnDCT, JHc ike
of which / had never beheld before. 1t
was full of wonders to my rustic and UNI
worldly eyes; for, though of high birth, my
father being called the monarch Of the
wood, he held his court in the open air,
which gave me little knowledge of civilized
life. But believe, that that rank is equal
to any. | think we are also called chords
of the soil" which we undenably we're, for
we struck out right and left to grasp as
much as we could, and used up a great por-
ton of the aforesaid soil belonging to the
other trees, which was really necessary to
support the many branches belonging to so
noble stem.
In my new form / was called chair {:
there were great many SO called in the
room they looked very dark at me, for
suppose | was considered pdrUcnu but
! little needed them, for my attention was at
tracted to a beautiful child, who at that
! moment entered the magnificent chamber
Her fair locks flew wildly about her angelic
face, and with light and airy motion she
sprang towards me. She stood and gazed
upon me with childish delight, admiring
my graceful form; | really felt as if my vel
vet blushed a deeper crimson beneath her
dove-like eyes.
had noble heart of oak, and l felt it
bound as it were to the fair child mo-
ment more-guess my confusion-envy my
delight she sprang into my extended arms,
and held in close embrace the beautiful
child, whose life will form the bubject of my
recital; and although the facts may be
wanting in interest to you, to me they are
hallowed by sweet remembrance of one
Of earths iairest creatures. Heaven knows
am not given to sentimentalize, nor do |
intend to harrow your feelings by scenes of
boodshed or hairbreadth escapes it is in
verify simplicity, the very sweetness of
which makes to me its best sentiment
The girl that held in my arms was a.
bout thirteen years of age, fair and beau
tiiul to look upon" the only child of the
owner of the magnificent dominion in which
| had become retainer.
lie was stern proud man, whose early
life had been passed in heart-burnings and
neglect, consequent upon his position of
younger brother. OF an ambitious and
fiery temperament, he, from his early child
hood, had iretted under the every day oc-
currence of seeing his elder brother, the
rising sun, claim from all classes the incense
paid to his position. Envy had thus entered
heart which otherwise would have been
noble and good, turning all his better feel
ings to gall and bitterness.
When manhood put the heir into full pos
session of his envied rights, he married,
and was blessed with family entirely
crushing the hopes OF his younger brother
as to any chance of succession.
He soon after married an amiable lady,
i, To whom he had been for Soma ttma rom
tracted, and as years wore on, he saw his
own child mingle with the fair promising
blossoms of his brother; but he experienced
pang as he felt she was only the daughter
, of younger brother
, His brothers eldest son, fine boy of d
bout seven years Of age, was the constant
f playfellow and chevalier to his child, show.
ing that strong prediction for her that
, reused the hopes again in his embttered
heart. 1t might be that they would grow
up in love together, and the inheritance be
shared in by HIMSELF through the marriage
Of his child. Even distant as this vision
was, it still gave a balm to the ranking
+ spirit that possessed him.
> Time had rolled on, when some estates
, inherited through distant relation, called
| for the presence of the lord of the manor
t to superintend the arrangement. Finding
that he must be from home for some months
/ as the estates were in Ireland, he resolved
S to take his family with him, leaving hi.
brother in possession; for travelling in those
f days was not thing SO easily done as an
, informed it is in the present.
S They parted with many mutual express
t ions of affection, but they met no more
/ The vessel in which they had embarked
foundered on the dangerous coast to which
! they were bound, and all persisted
| The younger brother became the lord.
= What whisperings from his heart distur
f bed the triumph Of his hopes. How he
e blushed at the ambition that stopped thu
c springs of sorrow, which ought to have
f gushed forth for his poor brothers sake
e He became the unhappy possessor of al
e that had ever gilded and given enchantmeu
: to his day-dreams, for his heart told him tn,
e price at which it had been bought
d These combating feelings turned hin
e into stern and mlsanthropic man hiyoni,
:, pleasure being to return threefold the for
y mer neglect of his present parasites blu
n he was only revenging himself upon himself
l. He had no son to carry down the honor
s of his house. The child he loved so fondl
d could only be the means of taking thos
d splendid domains to aggrandize anothe
name. She had grown into beautiful cir
d of fifteen, when her father was startled b
,, a letter, stating that a youth was then il
C Ireland, who, from all that could be gath
,, cred, was supposed to be the son of his los
e brother. He trembled Was the staff Il
Y be snatched from his hand, and he agail
o thrust back into his former position? Tn
l. thought was annihilating; he was almos
I frenzied He read again and again tn
l. startling missiye. The boy, it had stated
r had been seized by the wreckers, who, fear
* ing that they might be deprived of thei
N plumber, had carried off the child-the onl
l. soul living--and after some time, fndin
him burden, had left him at a conven
ID door, where the charity of the monks ha
lie sheltered him, They, pleased with his man
ID ners, had instructed him and kept him q
ID mongst them for three or four years. Frap
Id ments of recollection, ever and anon, cam
in over his mind, which he communicated I
his kind fathers. The wreck was an Occur
e, renee well remembered, and it was resolve
,e that he should be taken to the snot Tbi