Cooper's Clarksburg register. [volume] (Clarksburg, Va. [W. Va.]) 1851-1861, 1851-11-12

now came nc mere
Pardon me, dear mother, for doing
what desperation has driven me to /; l
met this gentleman in the street, and beg
ged-aye mother, begged, that is the
word, the means of procuring food and
medicine for you, for without them you
must die, and what then will become of
your poor heart broken child !"
"And has it come to this? approach
me, my child-kiss your mother it is
for her you have encountered this nights
storm, it is for her you have become a
wanderer and beggar. But beware, Ag-
mes there is danger, far worse danger
to be apprehended. Poverty is looked
upon by the rich as crime, and its vo-
taries the creatures of vice beware my
child ; the stranger you have encounter
ed is young, and from his appearance,
wealthy,-he may have motives for gen
erous acts, which Your Innocent heart
cannot fathom motives, child, which,
while they please those of your age, a
larm and distress the heart e6 On pa
rent spF
"And do you think, mother, that this
young man deems me creature of Weep
"No, my child, he seems one more
likely to act from the impulse of a mo-
ment as yet he has scarcely seen your
face, and if he had the pallid hue, and
sunken eye, could have but little charm
to attract the yilest libertine. Thus beau
ty pales beneath the magic wand of want,
and like the tender flower placed within
the influence of the poisonous upas tree,
withcrs, divD, aud f,ll9-tv tlr1 earth, a
wretched worthless thing ; like it, my
child, we are doomed!'
"Dear mother, talk not so; this young
man mast be one of those of whom have
heard you speak, his looks are gentle and
mild-his words kind and affectionate,
and, mother, am not child % These
words were uttered in a low plaintive
tone of voice; the head fell upon the
breast, and the exhausted Agnes threw
herself weeping into her mothers arms,
Here was picture for the rich proud
man, Oh ! could they who roll in wealth,
witness but one scene like this, how much
better would they be as men and chris
tians. The door of the heart would be
opened by the hand of pity, and better,
kinder, andmore holier feelings gain ad-
mission there
Agnes in expectation of the return OF
the young stranger, commenced placing
the little articles of furniture in some
thing like order the task was not hard
one, two chairs, table, looking glass,
the plate of which was cracked, work
stand, endeavoring to support itself on
three legs, picture of our Savior bear
ing the cross, and sampler worked by
herself, composed the whole of their
worldly gear. Having arranged things
to her liking, she gave one look to the
bed, sighed as her eyes rested on the
pale death-like features of her mother
then seating herself on little stool at the
foot of the bed, and burst into a food OF
tears. What a treasure to a heart OPP
pressed are tears, they come up from the
hidden cells of grief, the dewy messen-
gers of hope. Or as the poet expresses
. it -
"In tears the heart oppressed with grief,
Gives language to its woes;
In tears its fullness finds relief,
When rapture's tide O'erhows.
! Those who have experienced the mi.
series we have in part SO fully drawn, and
(which are ever attendant upon suffering
Virtue, can sympathise with the lone Ag-
mes, while she awaited the coming oi
one upon whom depended the life of a
kind and affeetionate parent. 1t was
like the pause of death ere he makes his
spring upon the flickering ray of life, to
nut it out forever silence Teigned IN the
1wretched apartment, only broken by the
occasional whisper Of the winter wind.
/ Perhaps" Agnes muttered to her
self, "perhaps he viii not return. Car
he deceive us, and triAe with our misery
No." and as she dwelt upon the beauty
and benevolent expression Of his face
she blamed herself for wronging him eyeI
by mere suspicion. Agnes was young,
Love to keaft like hers was but tn
whisper Of angels thought the chord
which yibrate In a virgins bosom, an
those of nature, and are turned by a
Almighty handi Yet would she thin
} of the Youth. and picture him as b