Lynchburg Virginian. [volume] (Lynchburg [Va.]) 1829-185?, 1851-03-24
MISCELLANEOUS.
From the Lady's Wreath.
The Yankee Girl.
BY MRS. S. 7. MARTYN.

The long winter evening was drawing
to close-the books and work had been
put by-and the "big ha' bible" rever-
emily deposited in its accustomed place
after family worship, and the cheerful cir
Gle that surrounded the fireside of Farmer
Lee, after an affectionate good night, had
leired to their respective apartments
The farmer himself rose from his chair
and carefully covering up the glowingc Goals
which sent fitful light through the now
darkened room, was about to retire, when a
suddenrush ofemotion seemed to overpowei
him, and throwing himself on the wooden
settle which occupied one corner of the
huge chimney, he covered his face with his
hands, and wept aloud.
"Father," said soft voice at his side
"dear father, are you not unwell. What
can do for youl''
"How is this, Grace!" he answered, al.
most sternly, 81 thought you were all gone
why are you still up at this late hour!"
because | could not 60 to rest while ]
knew that you were suffering, Father,
she continued, Il have watched you and
mother all day, and know you have some
sorrow of heart which you are hiding from
us, while it is sinking you to the earth
May not know what it is, that if | cannot
assist. may at least have the privilege o.
bearing it with your
While she spoke, Grace Lee had seat
ed herself on low bench at her father:
feet, and clasping her hands upon his knee
looked up in his face with an expression o.
earnest entreaty that might have moved a
heart of stone. But farmer Lees heart was
made of no such material. 1t was full o.
the milk of human kindness; besides, he
dearly loved the sweet girl whose blue
eyes We're gazing so tenderly into his, ano
had sometimes been tempted to feel little
proud of his ''wild flower" as the good
minister once called her. He cleared hi.
throat, therefore, and fondly passing hi,
hard and bony hand over her shining hair
said mildly, "you are a good girl, Grace
and comfort to your parents, but this mat
ter is beyond your ability to manage, anc
trouble will come soon enough, withou
meeting it half way"
"Oh, do not say so, dear father-I am al
most eighteen, and you must not look
upon me any longer as a child to be pettec
and cared for, but woman, who is botl
able and willing to take her share of the
burdens it may please Godto lay upon you
Tell me what it is that afilicts you, and dc
not fear that it will make me unhappy;
can bear any thing but see you miserable
while am ignorant Of the cause p
"Child, you know not what you ask
are you prepared to hear that your father
is beggar-that we must leave the OLD
homestead-whcre you were all born, and
where we have been so happyl" a chok-
ing sensation prevented farmer Lee from
proceeding, and Grace slowly repeated
as if echanically-"Leave the old home.
stead, and for what why must we go!
"You were child" her fater answered
"and do not remember your uncle Barker
He was in trouble, and tried to help him
out, but in some way, before the business
was ended, / was obliged to mortgage my
farm for small sum which could be raised
in no other way. The interest has been
regularly paid until within the last four
years, and l have always hoped to get to-
gether enough to pay the principal, but
some how or other, instead Of this, / have
got behind hand, and now the man tha,
holds the mortgage threatens to foreclose,
unless the interest, which amounts to more
than two hundred-d is raised imme.
diatly, and this is impossible, as even YOU
must know
:but your hlother-uncle Thomas, -
SAID Grcce, eagerly, "hc has money enough
E'nl he not help youin such case as this!''
"Perhaps he might, but he would wanl
better security than l can give him; and
moreover, if cannot now pay the money
on the bond, what reason is there to sup
pose that could raise it any better mex,
year to repay your uncle! No, no, Grace
there is no help for it, and we must bear il
as well as we can, but the hardest part OF
all, As the thought ofpoor Philip, whois do
ing so wellin his college studies. Poor fel-
low, can do nothing more for him now,
and he must come back and try what he
cando for the rest ofyou, by keeping school
! or in some other way"
During her fathers briefnarration Grace
had remained gazing at him, every faculty
absorbed in deep and painful interest, ba,
as he ceased to speak, she started up, and
with sparkling eye and glowing cheek, ex-
claimed, "Never shall Philip be called
home on such an errand while I've to
prevent It. ] am young and strong. and