The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1851-12-18
WASHINGTON, ID. c.
For the National Era
BE P A T | E n L.
BY MARY IRVING.
CHAPTER /.

small light arrow ef olden warfare, it pierces
where heavier weapon would rebound dividing
the cuirass of the soul II is the first word thai
falls ike a cold Maidstone ON babes spirit
fresh from the bowers Of innocence, curling ITS
lip. and CONFUSING its tremulous tiny hand
checked in the eager grasping at "mamma's =
collar or watch. 1t is the spell that wakes all
the wilfulness of the older child, arrived at the
age of mreasonableness when thwarted in his
darling plan of an afternoons Cunning"
And farther still on the way of life, where we
learn to calm the surface-swellngs of the souls
troubled waters, how often that word No !"
sinks into their depths like fiery meteor to
dry up the sweet fountain of love and life, or
turn it all into bitterness 1t is the lesson of a
lifetime to understand that word-to read the
veto of omnipotent love in the most naughty or
~--l-~,~-"I i@;,s;sS,erdenial fellow morPl7-
'sFeyY>t seat y yss. ->se.->-4ts ~ - ,.ixss,-
word of heaven viii not be No" -. ---
. ~. ~. =, }, \ ~ - -"
honey-dew of tenderness it drops reluctantly
from loving lips-harsher when il is hurled from
the mouth of authority, like hot shot from a
cold lannon's mouth But is it not most harsh,
most frigid, when it drops from the lips of in
difference falling upon the grave of hearts
hope?
How often is the whole of hearts hope
bound up in the little query with which we
commenced If such heart can resist the
force of the cold, short, business-like "No!"
that falls from the lips of the unsympathizing
post-boy, it may bid defiance to all the remain
inc miseries of this world Pandora has no
poison for it.
| have seen a strong man turn away from
the post-ofiice counter with thunderbolt in his
brow that seemed ready to blight the fair face
of nature in its bursting. | have seen school
boy in strange land swallow the sob he was
ashamed to own, while his less meek play-fellow
turned on his heel with muttered oath.
have seen mother come forth with haggard
face, written all over by anxiety and suspense
that she was too much abstracted to hide from
the gaze of the stragglers loafng" about the
door benches have seen home-sick little
girl-and a larger one, too--burst into tears Of
uncomfortable disappointment, and all at the
same curt, cruel MOI" have heard more
than this and will tell it to you
Below the mountain ranges of Vermont and
New Hampshire lies tract of hill country.
rather picturesque than grand Though sprin-
killed. with rocks, and scanned with granite
lodges it is green and flourishing enough to be
lander. AS rode through one Of it's grass
grown gorges, upon q summers evening" a
friend pointed out 10 me a huge, square, an
tique-looking house, with six gables, Gf rightly
remember, which sat like an alien, far from
nelghbors, on slight "rise" at our left II
was an old country-house, built, probably, be.
fore the Revolution-such one as is a rare
sight among those hills, which were first settled
10y men too poor and too busy to aspire to more
than simple remove from the primitive "wig
wan" OF their aboriginal predecessors The
old house was nearly buried in little wilder
ness OF its own; and as we rode leisurely past
it, Its front frowned out darkly from the shadows
of cypess-like pines and blooming llacs, that
were huddled in strange confusion around it,
As a relic of the middle ages" of our States,
1t had its interest TO me- but that interest was
trebled by story had heard about its dwellers,
in childhood
Major K the owner once of all the
goodly fields that roll and stretch away from
this mansion into distant perspective, was the
son of General not slightly distinguished in
American history. His own title had probably
been something more honorable than the mill
tary prefix fastened so often, nowadays. in
country villages upon the names of peaceable
republicans His laurels could hardly have
been bloodess ones He was rich man,
proud as he was rich, and stern as he was
proud. Few, perhaps, had n firmer foundation
to rest the pride of birth upon of the jewellers
among his native hills. But his pride was a
haughtiness that made him feared and hated
by the simple towns-people whom he despsed.
His name became a syneByme for "aristocracy,"
a word scarcely less hateful than treason to
the sturdy Democrats then so lately emanci
pated from the rule of British provincals.
He had several sons and daughters, "born
IN his own image" of pride. They mingled
with the common horde" indeed, and condo
scended to the brisk business Of life. But they
were stately, ceremonious and reserved, bend
ing their heads In the common breeze, like tall
pines IN forest of underground never reach
ing the level of those about them--seldom Civ
ing and never asking sympathy
One, at least wore her pride like princess
She was beautiful-darkly, haughtily beautiful
When she came into the old family pew. of a
Sunday morning, more than one pair Of eyes
and lips forgot the strctness of puritanical de-
corum and others besides the admirng chill
dren whispered behind their fans "what a
beauty" To be sure, the elders of the con-
gregation shook their grave heads, and said shat
no good could come out of a child " brought nm
with such high nations !" hut they could not
hate her in their hearts
She was seldom seen elsewhere unless bv
ZONE child or chance stroller, under the elm.
arches or pine-spires of the forest. wandering
all alone by herself and smiling on the intruder
her beautiful smile so proudly as to repel all
Then too, upon almost every
sunny day, she might be met, miles away, upon
some Of the stony roads winding among the
fields and orchards mounted on a spirited BAY
pony-sometimcs following in the wake of the
family carriage, but oftener alone sweeping
the air with her nodding black plume, and
glowing in the brightness of health and ex-
ercise.
Anne Il carried volcano under her
frozen veil of ceremony Its pent-up fires
flashed at rare intervals, far down in her deep
eyes; but oftener they rocked her breast to
passionate heaving. while her cheeks were pale
a. slumberer's, and her lips unmoyed from
'her cold, calm curve.
a.. O"e had looked into the depths of that vol
''o-one whom her stern father little sus
u " such presumption, when he engaged
c'n 'or'ices per hour as the tutor of his care
y-guarded daughter.
pnon ~ was sitting one dreamy July afternoon,
an 'ne high-backed stiffiy-carved sofa in the
sids *, m low parlor. The open window by her
deI;co wa" >, curtained only by the llacs whose
inc ,he blossoms nodded through, almost touch
I;cssoa 'ne girls cheek, and breathing out de-
Issbss all about her Her long, heavy
lav os drooped toward the "Telemaque that
lssn 'pcn on her lap; but it might as we'll have
iro" " any other book. Her stately head did not
'nJ however, with its coronet Of dark braids
hs Pans nor did a muscle of her face disobey
OF her will but the small, white ruff |
, ,a heaved and trembled like . leaf on |