Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1849-03-15
5GIet Gales.
From the National Era.
THE RETURN.
A LEAF FROM LIES VOLUME.
BY MARY IRVING.

That little red house-how distinct is its
picture to memory's eye 1t stands before
me in all the vividness of its first impress.
sions, whenever recall the story am about
to relate-when | wondered how even one
human being could be. comfortably lodged
withinth those four small walls. Yel two had
been sheltered there for years-two bound
by the nearest of earths tles-a husband
and wife. They were past middle age and
gray locks were on their tempes-though
those of the wife were tucked closely under
her prime cap. They were poor, too, as
you well might know, or they would long
since have sought to themselves a wider
portion of the little space called "Home."
do not know what was the old mans oc-
cupation. He was frequently seen Ioung-
ing around, sometimes with pipe in his
mouth, his thin locks half covered by bro.
ken hat. But the old lady was never idle.
A "wee bit" plat of land was adjoining,
and over this she was often seen bending
for hours, with no protection from the hot
sun but her mnslin cap, tending her beets
and cabbages Indoors, too, she was a
very queen-bee of industry; though, to be
sure, there was not much space for the ex-
ercise of house-wfery. Her one little square
room was kitchen, parlor, bedroom, and
all and two or three chairs, an old table,
and chest of drawers, could hardly find
room beside the bed, without jostIing on
another. Then there was all infinltesimal
pantry"-a small closet partitloned off it,
and a summer blessing--a stoop." where
the good woman sat knitting in the warm
evenings, till the round moon came far up
the sky. Her needle, too, was scarcely ev-
er idle; yet her honest labors seemed only
to keep them alive.
Mrs.--was once Lucy Browne.
call her still by that name; for | am sure
he for whose she changed it, was hardly
worthy of the honor Still am not Ger
tain that any charge of vice was ever brought
against him. He was only shftless,' per
haps, and many a poor woman has been
worse off, surely. Perhaps his wife's char
acter needed the discipline Of development
Perhaps he had that motive in throwing the
support of the little family on her. HeI
wrlnkled face was once young and fresh, il
not beautiful. Her hair was brown anC
glossy; her eyes-they had not learned tc
wear sorrows fixed hue; and oh she haC
warmer heart then. Shall / call up tc
your view picture of her early life1 Il
tell the tale as it was told TO me-
1t was noon. The sun was pouring it
heat upon the roof of an old time-worn farm
house ia Western New York. A boy la,
OH log before it, in the scattering shad'
of scraggy tree, engrossed with an ole
tattered book. A little girl came out upoI
the stone doorstep, and, shading her eye
with her hand, looked up to the sun. Sh
turned to the boy Robin, it is noon b
the shadow, and the pudding is all hot
come now, won't your No answer. ]
was evident that the boys senses were lock
ed up by the magic of the book before hin
Robin, dear say-brother She stoo
moment, and then bounding over the log
touched his arm lightly. Don't you heal
Robin? Father and mother have eaten dir
ner long ago, and l shan't love it alone
Do come nOO, there's dear boy 'Wh;
att? Robin reused himself as from dee
sleep, rubbing his eyes, and fixing stupi
stare on his sister; then, as faint gin
mering Of the idea seemed to break upo
him, he mechanically repeated Dim
err
yes, dinner What's the matter wit
you, Robinl You look as if you were ha
drunk
Matchmaking, only i am going to b
a sailor, Lucy"
A sailor =
Yes, of these stories Lucy, you me-
read anything half so wonderful, so beaut
full. Hurrah Tor old ocean,
But, don't sailors have to sail in awfl
storms, and don't they sometimes get shiI
wrecked?'
'Oh, plenty of times-all these were
but what's that to hinder a brave boy
HurrahP
ooh, Robinr She threw her arms arour
his neck, and the tears came into her eye
you must not go away to be sunk in Il
d ocean, / should cry myselfto death, if
if'--shc sobbed away the rest Of the Sc
tence