The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1849-11-03

descended tue stairs, that seemed TO creak louder
aud echolouderth than before; and barying her face
IN her pillow wept herself to sleep.
; CHAPTER IL.
"LovS knoweth form OF air, and every shape o.
And comes n0idden everywhere like thoughts my ste
nous bIIh. as
From that day a new Life opened 10 the orphan
child. Shehai come 10 her aunt gladly, for ahe
longed for kindness and tenderness, but she found
little there. She was doclle girl, for she had
early learned obedience, and had scarcely ever
known that she had q will of her own, far less
that it was to be gratihcd.
She had little strength of mind, little self-rell-
| ance, for faculties that are never allowed acton
soon cease TO exist She was OF a sweet and I'M
complaining disposition, fond only of her books,
and OF the pretty embroidery, painting, &C.,
which she had been taught at school, But with
| sigh she submitted TO be deprived OF her frame
ana Ael colors, and soon learned to sit meekly
at the coarse sewing which her aunt beautifully
provided for her; OF laid II aside without a muir
mur to draw a buckle. OF water from the deep
well, or to bring wood in her slender arms.
She seldom spoke, unless II was in answer to
some enquiry, and seemed falling into sort OF
apathy when the Spring came, and lis soft winds
and new springing grass and delicate blossoms,
II
lty. It had been the gossip Of all the quilting
parties and tea drinking OF the neighborhood,
that Abel Martins rich niece was little better
than a servant in her uncle's house. Many OF
these murmurs had reached Mrs. Martins ears,
and perhaps il was for this cause thatnow Mary
was left more to herself and her own wishes.
= So she used 10 wander about the woods recline
on the dandellon and siolet-gemmed banks OF
low sweet-toned brook, that stole through her
uncle's meadows, or with her pencil makesketch'
Is of the pleasant scenes she saw.
An old dog, no fayorite with the family, which
contrlyed to pick up precanous living IN the
kitchen and woods, gradually attached himself
10 the orphan, and at last became her insepara-
bic companion. Alone in the fields, she was
more happy than she had been since her father =
. death. She woye gaIands Tor the Old dog neck,
and while ne gravely sat and listened to her, she
l., told him long stones Tor want OF other auditor,
" and sang her favorite songs to the Spring birds.
Hercheek grew less pale, and the gentle medi-
cine that nature offers the desolate seemed heal
- ing her gnef
y The Summer came, and Mary still wandered
out as usual, gradually acquiring health anC
strength, when one day she was surprised TO hnc
by her seat under hickory that grew near The
brook, pretty rustic basket of flowers and fruit
A thnll rushed through her frame, an intense de
light that she had not felt for months. The
were for her. SOMEBODY must have thought o.
and pitied her. II was friend who placed then
there surely. But who could il bef She knew
ng no one, had made no acquaintance, for her aun
discouraged any advances made by the neigh
Did bors' Daughters toward a friendship with he
N niece, and she had neither cared nor needed.
,el Day after day she came there, and neverfsil
70. ell TO find some similar gift. She had please
en herself with weaving hundred pretty romance
in Of which they were tpe foundation. One nom
ing all the woodland creatures were astir, tn
ss binds were buster than ever among the buehes-
the squirrels eyes were brighter as they shon
af out from their mischieyous little faces, and eve
nv ny leaf glistening and uttering in the earl
,ss breeze.
81 With light heart, Mary bounded over tn
messy stones and withered leaves in glad rae
nd with the old dog which made the echoes ring witt
me his barking. With flushed cheeks and eager eye
,n. she reached her favorte tree, and it was not
% be seen. 'Wof, she said, gaiy, you were her
-en FIST, you wave Carried off my flowers. Wher
an are theyY'
n5 They are here, Miss Lonng' said youn
o., man, stepping from behind the tree.
ali Mary looked at him for a moment in mute as
40 Constituent. Deep bushes ove.spread her face
,ey and she curtsied, not knowing what else to dc
in. then with q sudden impulse leaped acIoss tn
he brook, and was bounding awsy toward the house
ma when she heard the unknown exciaim-Mis
II Lorlngl Miss LOnngl'
!
to what he had 70 say, and was half fnghtene
when he crossed the brook and stood by her side
he he Offered her the flowers which she did not dar
b. refuse, but stood trembling and wishing 10 &c
70. There was nothing very fnghtfu in the case, q
h. least so thought Louis HARDEN, as he smiled q
~ the poor child's paleness. He was a young fal
- mer, with rather better education, better looks
and better means, than any Of his neighb orss an
therefnrs fsIt himself ahnndantly qualiked, q
all these accounts, TO make the Acquaintance q
the helress, whose situation had excited so muc
IL sympathy IN the vicinity. But knowing TIL
ON would be entirely distasteful to the Martins, h
II had made this experiment and was well please
- with his success.
a II is TO be feared that the young farmers woI
an suffered that day, for the sun was high in tn
10 Heavens when he joined his haymakers, and b
often paused and stood leaning on his rake as /
NJ in deep thought
what is the matter with you, my chidi sal,
al aunt Martin Mary entered the door; you
- cheeks are as red as pink You havn't locke,
Of so well this year. told you 'twould be the sa
- wing Of you, coming to live with me. But i
!. seems TO me you've been great ways this morn
- ing. Now nun night up stairs, and 60 to Keeling
or that wooien yarn; you've got 70 smart you car
q 10 If as well as not Mary gladly escaped 10 the
chamber, and in the execution OF her homely bu
rather pleasant task, found ample time 10 think
a, over the adventure Of the morning. II was such
40 an event IN her quiet, aimless lille.
~ Il know mustn't tell aunt she thought, fol
A then, he says, she will shut me up, and never
:. let me go oat Of doors again; but am afraid II
is very wrong
a. 'Oh, dearl she said aloud, what have donei
have gone on and on, reeing this yarn and not
tied single knot, and now | shall have TO wind
A 1t all of and commence the skein sgainr
~ Poor Mary Loring. Something had sadly dis
"A composed her that day, for It required ali her pa
!, tence to get her simple work right and at night
so little had been accomplished that her aunt be-
n slowed a soun1 scoldIng upon her, and bounced
!, out of the room in a rage. Never had the old
! ladys manner seemed half so coarse or Iepul-
slve, and food Of teaB concluded the untoward
/, events of the day
. On the morrow she fingered in the house in
= stead of going ont as usual She walked from
: the door to the window took up her sewing, laid
; It aside, and TO use Mrs. Martins expression,
!, 'hdgeted' until losing all forbearance the Thrifty
housewife exclaimed, MISS, are you going TO
take a walk, OF amt youf Because if you amt,
= you can 20 and finish that yarn; and if you are,
you'd better go, so as TO get back some time to-
: day. You would not be INDUCED to take a walk
by everybody, can tell you. Wouldn't humor
= an own daughter as do you. Come, if you re
' going, go!'
The vision of the wooden yam and the hot
a chamber decided the child, and she went out
$ without word. Old Wolf, who had been as
!. restless ashis young fuend followed; and Mrs.
e Martin stood IN the door grumblng.
$ There you go, pretty pair indeed! that's all
either OF you are good for; and if it wasn't for
them that's dead and gone, l wouldn't be both.
cred with either of vou the CIV mr. fba 40, D..