Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1851-08-05

prom the National ErG.)
a R e m j II i S C nee.
BY PATTY LEE.

BY PATTY LEE.
Some four or FIVE years ago, there came TO reside
| IN the neighborhood in which then lived, family
consisting of three persons-an old lady, Young
man, and child of some fourteen yeals. The cot
tsge they took, divided by a little strip of wood
from my own home; and l well remember how re-
IJoiced was on first seeing the smoke curling up
from the red chimneys, for the house had teen
long time vacant, and the prospect of having near
neighbors gave me delight. Perhaps, too, was not
the less pleased that they neighbors. We
are likely TO underestimate persons and things we
have continually about u.s. but let separation come
and we learn hat they were to US. .fpropos Of
this-in the little wood have spoken of, l remem-
Der there was an oak tree, taller, by great DEAL
than It's fellows; and thousand times have felt as
though It's mates must be oppressed with painful
sense of degradaton, and really wished the axe
were laid at its root AT last, one day heard the
ringing strokes Of that fatal Instrument and on in
curry, was told that the woodman mad received Or
ders no longer to spare that tree Eagerly listen
ed at tirst-every stroke was like the song of VIC
tory; and then the gladness subsidized and | began
to marvel how the W GODS would look with the mon
arch fallen; then thought the glory will have de-
parted, and began TO reflect upon myself as having
sealed Its deathwarrant, that when the crash told
that the mighty fallen, waking the sleeping
echoes from the hills, cannot tell how sad an one
it awakened also in my heart. If could see it
standing once more, just once more! but could not,
and till this day feel twinge when think of the
tall oak.
But the new neighbors-some curiosity mingled
with my pleasure, confess; and SO, as soon as
thought they settled, and feeling at home,
made my toilet with unusual for the first visit
The cottage was somewhat back from the main
road, to which, access was had by narrow grass
grown lane, bordered one side by green belt of
meadow, and on the other side by the grove, slopirg
upward and backward to a clayey hill, where, with
children and children's children about them,
''The rude forefahers of the hamlet slept"
little farther on, but in full view of its stunted
expresses and white headstones, was the cottage.
OF burial grounds generally | have no dread-but
from this particular one, / was accustomed, even
from child, to turn away with something of super
sttlous horror. lcould not forget how Laura Hast
ings light burning there all one winter night,
after the death of John Hine, a wild, rowing fell
low, who never did any real harm in his life to any
one but himself, fastening his own death by foolish
excuses. Nevertheless, his ghost had been seen
more than once, sitting on the cold clay mound be-
meath which the souls expression was fading and
crumblng into dust-so, at least, said seine of the
There, too, Mary Widermings, fair young girl
who died, sinned against than shining, had been
heard to sing sad lulabies under the waning moon
sometimes and at other times had been seen sitting
| by her sunken grave and brading for br-
dial, in her hair True, never saw any of these
wonderful things; but spot more likely 10 be
haunted by the unresting spirits of the bad could not
readily be imagined. The woods, thick and full of
birds along the road side, thnned away toward the
desoate ridge, where brars grew over the grass
mounds, and about and hrous the fallen palings,
they would, with here and there little clearing
among weeds and thstles and high matted grass,
for the making of new bed.
1t was the twilight of beautiful summer day, as
| walked down the grassy lane and past the lone
some graveyard to make my first call at the cottage,
feeling, | scarcely knew why, strangely sad. BY
an old broken bridge, in the hollow between the
cottage and the graveyard, | remember that | sat
down, and, for long time, listened to the tickng
of the water the pebbles, and watched the
golden patches of sunlight till they quite faded out
as came still evening on, and twilight gray, that
in her sober livery all things Clad
So quietly sat that the mole, beginning its blind
work at sunset oosened and stirred the ground be-
meath my feet, and the white, thick-winged moths,
coming from beneath the dusty weeds, auttered
about me, and lighted in my lap, and the dull,
habby beating of the bat came almost in my face.
The first complaint Of the owl sounded along the
hollow and died over the next hill, warning me to
proceed, when heard, as it were, the echo of my
own thought, repeated in a low, melancholy voice,
the conclusion Of that beautiful sanza of the clergy
In reference to the moping bird. distinctly caught
the lines
'Of such as wandering near her sacred bower,
Modest her ancient solitary reign.'
Looking up, saw, approaching slowly, with arms
folded and eyes upon the ground, young and SEEM
ingly exceeding handsome man. He passed with
out noticing me at all, and l think without seeing
me. AS he did not observe me, l had the better
opportunity of observing him, though | would fain
have foregone that privilege to have one glance
He interested me, and felt Inundated that he should
pass me as though were stick stone. His
face was pale and very sad, and his forehead was
shaded with of black heavy hair, pushed
away from one temple, and falling negectedly over
the other
'Wellp said ], as l watched him ascending the
opposite hill, feeling very much as though he had
wantonly sighted some claim l had upon him,
though could not possibly have the slightest, and,
turning ill-humored away, walked with quick
step toward the cottage.
A golden-haired young girl sat in the window
| rnadIn and oh 0nd