Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1850-08-03


her, and call her the little parson but she
only preached in her actions, and that is
what call practical preaching, ma'am: she
was little master-workman at her needle, /
never had match for her since i began
business: but you know there's always bid
in this life; she gave me great offence. She
crossed me where could least bear to be
crossed.
"You shall hear, ma'am. Ihave an only
son, John Rosa fine, fresh-looking, good
natured, industrious lad. ] set my heart on
his marrying his cousin, Amy Bruce. She
is the daughter of my youngest sister, and
had pretty fortune in hand, enough to set
up John in any business he fSncied There
was no reason in the world why he should
not like Amy. had kept my wishes TO my
self, because knew that young folks love is
like an unbroken colt, that will not mind
spur nor bit ! never mstrusted anything
was going wrong, till one day l heard the
girls making great wonder about Canary
bird that they found, when they went in the
morning into the workshop, in cage hang
ing over Lucy's seat; and then remember
ed that John had asked me for five dollars
the day before, and, when ] asked what he
wanted it for, he looked sheepish, and made
no answer. thought il prudent, before
matters went any further, to tell John my
wishes about his cousin Amy. My wishes,
ma'am, have always made a law TO my
children. To be sure, have taken care, for
the most, that they should be reasonable. /
am little willfhl, own il; but it's young
folks business to mind; and children, obey
your parents is the law both of scripture
and of nature. So told John. l did not
hint any suspicious about Lucy, but l told
hun, this marriage with his cousin he could
have no objection to, what had long set my
heart upon, and what he must set about
without delay, on peril of my disploasure.-
lie was silent, and looked downcast; but
saw that l was determined, and believed he
would obey me. A few evenings after,
saw light in the workshop after the usual
time, ! went to inquire into il. had only
my slippers, and my shoes made little or no
sound. The upper part of the door was set
with glass. saw Lucy finishing off pair
OF glovcs-my son was standing by her. II
appears they were for him, and he insisted
upon her trying them on his hand. Hers,
poor thing, seemed to tremble. The glove
would not go ON, but il came off, and their
hands met without gloves, and nice fit they
were. l burst in upon them. ] asked John
II this was obedience TO me, and told Lucy
10 quit my service Immediately. Now the
whole matter is past, must do John the
justice to say he stood by her like man.
lie had given his heart and promised his
hand TO Lucy, and she owned she loved him |
him who was not unworthy other love. lie |
SAID, too, something of my being a kind ia |
ther, and kind man; and he would not be- |
heve That the first case of my doing n wrong |
would be to the poor orphan girl whom Pro- |
udence had placed under our roof Ma'am |
you will wonder that hardened my heart to
all this, but know anger is a short madness,
aud, besides, there is nothing makes us so
deaf TO reason and true feeling as the strong
sense we are wilfully doing wrong.
:" was harsh, and John lost his temper,
and poor Lucy cried, and was too frightened
to speak il ended in my telling Lucy sho
should not stay another day in my house, and
John, that, fbe did not obey me, my curse
should be upon him.
"The next morning they had both cleared
out, and everybody thought they had gone
off TO get married, and so i believed till
night, when John came in like distracted !
man, said he had been all day seeking Lucy |
in vain that the only friend she had in the |
city knew nothing of her; and, when an
swered, so much the BETTER he accused me
of cruelty, and then followed high words,
such as should never pass between father |
and son; and it ended in my turning him |
from my door. do not wonder you turn |
away-but hear me. Saturday night, three
days after, John came home an altered man. |
He was as humble as if he only had been
wrong lie begged pardon, and promised
to obey me in all things but marrying Amy
Bruce. Il give up Lucy, father, said he,
hut cannot marry anybody else.' j for
gave him, from the bottom of my heart, i
forgaye him-and long TO ask him to for
give me-but have not come to that yet
i asked him what had brought him back to
duty. He put into my hands letter which
he had received from Lucy.
"She had persevered in not seeing him:
but, such a letter, ladies! IL ministers could
so speak to the heart, there would be no sin
in the world. She said she had deserved TO
suffer for carrying the matter so far without
my knowledge. She spoke of me as the
kindest of masters. Then she spoke of the
duty child owed TO a parent: said she
should never have any peace of mind till she
heard we were reconciled; and told him il
would be in vain for him to seek her, for she
had .solemnly resolved never to see him again.
The paper was blistered with tears from the
top TO the bottom but, saving and except
ing that, ma'am, there was nothing from
which you could guess what it cost to write
the letter.
81 could not stand IL; my heart melted
within me; found her that very night, and,
without loss of time, brought her back to nv
house, and then" he added, walking hastily
to the farther end of the shop, and throwing
open door that led into the back parlor,
"there, ma'arn, is the long and short Of it.6
And there was one of the most touching
scenes Of human life. My pretty, dutifiil
friend lac0n1a N xvifa and ,,,o,la. L.. :..c
in her arms, and her husband sitting beside
her, watching the first intimatiOns of intel
ligence and love in its bright little face
Such should be the summer OF happiness
when the spring is consecrated to virtue.
MAHoMED's PREAcmNo.-IIis definition of