The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1852-10-28


10 find that all their information amounted to
this The truth was, that Ellis, Mrs. Morris's
woman, knew the world well and had quiet
way of battling their curiosity, without their
ever suspecting it. =.
The advent of the Morris family in our vii
lage was an era in my life. ! was at that time
shy girl of fifteen, living in world OF my
own which peopled with all sorts of roman
tic heroes and heroines, for which was chiefly
indebted to some tattered copies of The Scot
fish Chiefs" "Thaddeus of Warsaw" and the
"Children of the Abbey" which | had found
in the book cupboard of one of our neighbors
Few strangers visited our village but such as
did. were at once identified with my favorite
heroes. I made a Wallace of Colonel Meeks
whom saw once, on his way to general mus
ter of militia his faithful harper walked the
earth under the form of an old, white-haired
halfblind tinker, who mended my mothers
milk pans and Lady Mar was the Doctors
new wife, who was said to be stern mother to
her predecessors children. My Helens and
! Amandas it was more difficult to identify; for
| saw few whom | thought worthy to possess
all their transcendant qualities. Once or twice,
| however, did so, and was terribly mortified at
the result. Two somewhat shOwily- dressed
! girls were left at our village tavern one day. by
the stage, and |, catching a glimpse of their
flowing ringlets and rosy cheeks, endowed
! them at once with all the beauty and misfor
tunes of my herOines, and confidently expected
that some redoubted hero, with hair like the
ravens plumage" and "eyes like night, would
appear, to bear them off But, alas their de-
Gverer appeared in the shape of Farmer B.,
of IN, a short-legged, bald-headed old man,
in straw hat, and tOw-cloth trousers OF that
undefnable shade known among the house
wives as walnut-bark color" who greeted
them as Bets and Sal" and bore them home
with him to the paternal mansion.
OF course Mrs. Morris and her daughter
became prominent objects in this world of
mine. watched for their coming days, and
dreamed of them nights with longing mpa-
tience, that can be known only by a child
whose life has been as secluded and monoto-
nous was mine.
They'll be here on Saturday night" was
the report in the village so, on Saturday af-
ternoon, | stole out to ledge of rocks which
overhung the roadside from the summit of
which could overlook the country for miles
around, and sat watching the winding road
until the trees and rocks began to dilate and
assume wild fantastic shapes in the gathering
twilight.
Farmer Gilbert passed with mis- ox-cart; two
or three droves of COWS loitered along, stretch
ing their long necks over the fences to catch
mouthfu of tempting grass, or playfully push
ing at one another with their white horns.
while their truant drivers, with bare feet and
trousers rolled up above their knees, explored
the brook-course after fresh shoots of young
calamus. Files of Cabling geese passed, fol-
lowed by little girls who counted them over
and over to see that none had fallen a sacrifice
to the prejudices against their race, but-no
carriage.
What was my surprise and delight, then,
next morning, as passed the old house on my
way to church, to catch a glimpse of two
strange faces at the window. | saw them but
a second; and yet that one glimpse was sufi-
cient to realize all my dreams ; and long after
ward when constant intercourse had made me
familiar with their faces was never able to
decide which was the most beautiful--the
mother or the daughter.
Coleridge says that in every human face
there is either history or a prophecy, which
should have power to soften or sadden the
heart of the beholder" In Mrs Morris you
read both; she was queenly-looking woman,
over whose rare beauty hung the shadow of a
deep melancholy
Not long since, | had the pleasure of seeing
a copy of the "Sybil," by Dominique, and was
struck by her resemblance to it, especially
when she looked upon her daughter; but there
was this difference the SYPHILIS look was one Of
rapt expectation Mrs. Morris's that of hope
less, inevitable fate. ust such a look as Jephtha
might have cast upon his child, as she went
forth, with her companions to the hills.
If the mother reminded you of might crown
ed with stars" or, better still, of q dark noun
tain lake, over whose motiOnless depths our
thoughts linger in wonder, Annie, sweet Annie
Morris, the daughter, was like the lily that
springs by its margin, all the fairer for the
shadows; and yet, rs colors laid at the roots OF
dubious plants are said to transmit their hues
to the flowers, so their shadows had not been
without their influence on her gay, glad spirit,
and she had words of grave thoughtfulness
strange in one so young.
Mrs. Morriss quiet, reserved manners were
not calculated to render her very popular
among the visiting portion of our community.
They set her down as "queer body" and
hoped there might be no good reason for her
keeping such a close tongue about her family
affairs" but the neighbors, when they came
to know her. felt for her sincere love and re-
spect Some favors which my mother was
enabled to show them, as strangers, laid the
foundation of a warm friendship between our
families. and in a few months Annie and be-
came inseparable companions.
As became almost an inmate in the family
fell, so to speak more and more definitely the
strange gloom that overhung them, and caught,
more than ever, the glance of Mrs. Morris Fix
ed upon her daughter, with that strange ex-
preston of hopeless anguish, as if she ioresaw
some evil against which neither prayer nor
faith could prevail.
At first the Jest or the song would die on my
lips on these occasions; but as saw this an
noyed Annie gradually learned to command
myself As she never alluded to the subject
did not like to question her; but once ven
tured to seek a solution of the matter from FL
liz, with whom CHANGED to be quite favOrite.
For moment a shade of displeasure clouded
her good-natured face and confidently expect
ed sharp reprOof for my answer; but it pass
ed of, and she said in thoughtful tone, as if
more in answer to her own thoughts than my
question
Sorrow yes, there has been sorrow enough,
and God knows when it will end!n Then see
ing my eager look, she added "Don't trouble
your head about other peoples sorrows now,
little Mattec. What is to be will be- and you
will have enough of your own by and by, or
you are no true woman ~
But thus much did lcarn-that Annie's ia
Their had entered the service in direct opposi.
ton to the wishes, even commands Of his
mother; that he had followed his profession
until his marriage with the beautiful Mary
Woodward when he had remained at home for
some years, bound by the double tie of wife
and child. But finally, the old longing for the
sch returned, and, taking the place Of an old
comrade and friend who had suddenly been
disabled on board the ill.fated Hornet, made
one of that noble band of strong hands and
brave hearts whose fate is known to God alone.