The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1851-12-13

- "''"t ". ~ ~ '''N Po'Pif s'Hfll hlia si"ft
hehiInd him - he passed along The streets 70
zee The children shfiak fHpm him and nee, ~
from some monster and 70 dWali IN a desc
late home, bis own Offspring iremblIbe rs be
touched theE, sad his wifs--thAt wih who
SAd Aeessed hm--lookiRs with cold. suspiu-
iou', unhappy eye upon tho bsina she hail
sworn 70 love and cherish With her lfe Bnch
was hla htsl Who had NV gbl ~ Ills
'siis reeo,ered from he's. illuoss. and her sis-
Ter vent her way back to ber home in France
5ullom did the poor man eyva speak there
was gloom about tba, de'oIAie house, His
trade fell Oh, AMI bis credit declined, aud
whyF Because hia heart was broken. Day
amer day hssat IN his tone countinE-house 4
there was no hustle there Ills books we're
covered With thick coat OF dust, and a. one
by one bs customers dropped oG, 80 poverty
stepped in, until a, last ho found himself al
most a beggar. lie shut his Office toor5, shut
them for the last tame, then wiped away
tear, the first ho had shed for many day
Tie went home but, not to the homo be used
to have. His furniture had been sold 10 sup
ply the common necessities ,oG life. aud poor
Indeed was their now humble abode. There
was silence In that little houso--scArcely a
whisper. In the secret fountains Of his wifes
heart there was Still depth oflove for him;
but always when she would have brrAtbed Il
forth, the strange horrid suspicion would Ait
across her brain-her child was not. He Of
ten looked at her, loug, earnest gaze, bat
he seldom spoke I.
One evening he was moro than usually sad.
Hq kissed his. children fondly. lie took his
wifes cold hand, and pressed II ia his own
"Jessic," said he, as you'have sown, so shall
ye reap; but forgive you. God bless You.
wifel- IIc lay down on his hard pallet, AMI
when they would have reused him In the
morning, he was doad
Time rolled .on with rapid sweep, alas
bringing death and It's attendant evils in his
train. Two The willows children tiiedand
Jane was now about eighteen years Of ago
Sorrow, rather than age had already blanch-
ed the widows hair, They we're in great
poverty and eked ont scaniy livelihood
with their needle Indeed, their only GER
tain dependence lay IN the sms assistance.
which Madame do I>ourbiaue sent from
France. Perhaps, had that sister known the
state ofhor poor relatives ,hcr paitry piitaneo'
might have bccn Increased They were per-
haps too proud TO make Il known; as IL was.
she knew not, or, if she did, she needed not
About this time a letter reached tho widow
from her sister. Besides containing the usu-
al remittance, the letter was pnusually lonc.
She requested Jane to read il to her, while
abe sat aud scwod. What allied the girl, her
mother thought, as Jane gaSed upon the page
with some iadascribabc emotions depicted on
her face -" Mother. sit,- eFie,l, ,-nn,y- sister
lives your child is found againl" Tho Wild
ow tore the letter from hor daughters hand,
and read il eagerly, while her fico grew pal
er every moment. She gasped for utterancc;
aud the mystery was solved at last
- -1Ss. reader. AT last the mystery was mnray-
elled, and the criminal was he's sister she
who had stood calmly by, aud seen the agony
OF the bercavcd mother--shc who had behrld
the injured father dragged as fclon to prs-
on, when n wonl from her would have clear
ed it all-she was that wretch. Madame tic
Bourbanc was ehildless, and her heart ycarn-
cd for some one, shefcould love. She saw the
little cherub Of her sister, and she enyicd il.
She knew that if sho had kcd tho child, ,they
mothers heart would have sphrhed the ofIer,
so she laid her plans to steal tho infant. She
employed n woman from FFapce, who,, as she
prowled about the house, had seized the ia
yorable moment, and snatched the infant
from its cradle, and the child was safely hous-
cd in France almost before tho tardy law boz
gan its Investigations. Madame de Bour-
blanc remained beside her sister for a time;
then hurried Off TO France, TO layish all her
love upon the stolen child. 1t Is true, she
nved the child; but was il not Eal6sh love
TO see the bereaved mother mourn its loss, yet
never sootbe her troubled heart And was it
not cruel loAs,uto see household broken
up, affections desolatcd ~ all to crafty
selfish .yhim Of hers Mas worse than
eruel--it was deeply criminal. I'D
She brought up the infant as her own; she
named it Amalie, and pretty child che was
Did pang never strike to the heart of that
cruel woman, as the child would lifl It's little
eyesto hers, and lisp "My mother.p" She
must have thought Of the true mother, bro
ken-hearted, in another land. Yes, pang
did pierce her heart, but alas it 6arnc too
late the misery was already wrought She
wrote to her injured sister, begging her for
giyeness, and at the same time offering con-
sum IL she would permit tho child 10
remain with her, still ignorant of her real pa
rentage. But she was mistaken in her hope
for not only did the mother Indignantly de-
mand the restoration Of her child, but sue did |
more-shc published tho sisters letter, ,end
triumphantly removed tho stains that liSger-
ed on her dead husbands memory. |
"A few weeks after this, the widow went 10 |
pay visit 10 the green grave of her broken
hearted husband. She knclt upon tho YER
dant mound, and hratercd it with hoT tsihnta. |
ry tears. All her unjust sn,pirions crowded