The Planters' banner. [volume] (Franklin, Attakapas Co., Lou.) 1849-1872, 1851-07-26

Nonsense! wish the writer of those
lines had been at our cottage by the old
bridge on washlng-days; it would have
made him sing other words to the same
lively air, or am sadly mistaken.
Washlng-day! why it was the hap
pIest twelve hours in the week to . US
children" We could scarcely sleep
all the night before from fervent antici-
pations of the frolic which it brought.
1t was astonishing how our intellects
were sharpened and our ingenuity
brought into force to devise ways and
means for escaping school on that par
ticular morning.
A nice, tidy old creature was our
washefwoman, one that an artist would
have sketched in spite of himself. had
he seen her vending along the shady
path. in the cool morning, with ker-
chief OF brilliant cotton passed neatly
over her cap, and tied beneath the chin.
Cry or Page would have taken fancy
to the old woman. even before her sad.
mild face came in view. There was
something picturesque about her raj
ment, and her movements were in fine
keeping with the dewy quietude repos-
ing among the dark green foliage
through which she was wholly re-
vealed, or seen only in glimpses, as she
came towards the cottage
But there was sometimes another OBJ
ject which almost every young man of
taste, even though not an artist, would
fancy-for Ida was possessed of a
beauty So soft and delicate. that il
seemed natural to the green woods,
almost as the flowers that spring to life
and perish there. Lida-sweet. pretty
Lida-as we always called her, was
girl of ten years old, when could re-
member of her coming to the house
with her mother-and she is almost the
first object that l can remember-for
she was just the creature to fasten her
self on the mind of child whose in
stinct was to love the beautiful, and be
grateful for kindness. Ida came with
her mother every week for many a
year; and it was to her that our wash
ing-day owed all its cheerfulness. The
old woman brought her girl to "take
care of the children" she said: and
such as she took to make us happy was
never so successfully exerted by mortal
being before or since.
A change fell upon our washing-days. |
The old woman came as usual, but, alas
Ida, dear Ida, no longer helped as to |
gather sticks from the drift heaps, or
allowed her ringing laugh to set the
birds chirping from sympathy, in the |
pine woods. Ida was an apprentice |
now, learning the milliners' trade, on |
Falls Hill. But sometimes the young
girl would start early, and come with
her mother for few moments Monday
mernings. She seemed more thought
full than formerly, and there was some
thing peculiarly sweet in her smile,
which was more beautiful even than
her pure, bird-like laugh. Her COM
plexion settled into that clear pearly
white which carries the idea of mental
purity with it, while it indicates perfect
health quite as truly as the richest
bloom. Her eyes were very change
able, and shaded by the longest and
most jetty lashes you ever saw, while
her little mouth was bright and red as
a ripe strawberry. When she smiled
much, a dimple settled on her cheek
and round her mouth, like the shadow
Of honey-bee when lowering around a
q lily; and when Ida was seventeen,
and had begun her apprenticeship, il
was pleasant to observe how lively the
child had become as she approached the
threshold of womanhood.
The milliner's shop where Ida was
was in the second story of a
store, near the Episcopal
,hurch. There were two rooms in front,
separated by a narrow entry; and as
Miss Smith, the milliner, always took
! remarkable fancy for fresh air when-
aver lawyer Gilbert was in the next !
oom, and insisted that the door should
,e left open, Ida was hours together
hat she could not lift her eyes without
moving that young man, rather
handsome and with singularly fine I
yes, sat within the adjoining room
hAnnh che voror loaloS J;xoaeJx, =,