The Lancaster ledger. [volume] (Lancaster, S.C.) 1852-1905, 1852-03-25
\ I'll b CTED TALES
ANGEL CARRY,
OR TIE
FATE OF A DRUNkARDS CHILD


my Garry has blue eyes and cherry
lips, and pretty curling hair as any little
girl in the land, know murmurcd fond
mother, as she suspended her sewing and
sat gazing at lovely creature full of wild
gambols, now dancing around the hum
BILE room after the golden sunshine. now
pouring from natures own rich lutte. soft
strains of music; and smile which made
that poor woman's holy face played around
her own beautiful mouth.
Another moment and Carrv's br;nht
eyes and wlnsome face pccped in at the
window, through the climbing rose bush
and the fresh crimson flowers laid on her
sunny locks, and kissed her cheeks and
nushed her white forehead with n pale rose
red, and clung to her little shoulders and
again the mother as she lifted her now
shadowed brow whispered with n fresh
lovc-houud at her heart" God bless her"
Then the tiny thing ran and laid down
upon the bank, and the slender wands of
grass; among which sparklcd here and
there bright yellow buttercups broidered
her simple linen frock, and cradled her as
lovingly, almost, as the arms of her mott
er. Sometimes the wild bees on ;he wing
came close down, so close that for the
warm, Fragrant breath Of the sweet infant
they would have kissed her little ROSY lips
for no doubt they took them at first for
new ripe blossoms, full of honey, and so
they were-brt not for the bees. Above
the babe linden tree threw its graceful
foliage, and between the delicate leaves,
the blue shining heavens looked down but
never on lovclier sight. One branch as
delicate almost rs gossamcr spray, swung
dreamily back and forth, rocked bv the
weight of yellow bird, that pouring its
ringing tones upon the still air, sang the
child te sleep.
Wondering Mt last why the laugh of her
ittie one was hushed, the young mother
folded by her work, and FASTENED to the
garden and although no painters eve
was hers, yet rs her vision wandered far
away towards the hills, and gathered in
the broad, intervening fields, with their
serpentlneswatl's Of uew mown grass, and
the orchard-trees, right and left bending
nnder their precious burdens, and the wee
gllnting stream, she felt all the emotions,
that, breathed out in choice words. stamp
the poet.
The hedge Of sweet briars surrounding
her humble home, was spangled with
clusters Of dried rose berries, the spreading
grape vine and beds Of sweet thyme, mar
igolds, mignionctte and hearts ease were
glowing under the warm, mellow rays of
the high sun {; bnt precious above all these,
was the sight Of her dear title daughter,
slumbering uader the linden tree.
She gazed upon it, strangely enough,
With tears; her soul expanded with the mul-
fPaiey other emotious; she bent rev erent-
ly down passed her loving arms under
meath the babe and again murmuring
"God bless her." bore her within the low
ly cottage and laid her in her little cradle.
Just then wild bunt of merriment
broke the drowsy silence; q coarse, gut
teral sound ofmen's harsh voices-in mirth
unnatural and strained the mother lifted
her eyes from the sleeping chcrub,
and looking heavenward she muir
INJURED as she clasped her hands till
they grew rigid "Oh! how small a sa-
scIifcA would this life be could it but res
tore him TO virtue; will nothing bring him
sbackto my love again Must behold
him come home day after day, with the
maniacs wild eye and the drunkard's cursc9
And shall my child be branded with his
disgrace 7 my winning, beautiful, delicate
girl almost too gentle and good fol earth,
ms she ", must she be called n drunkards
daughterl God forbid ~ she continued
while sob after sob shook her whole frame,
rather take her to Thee, Father, il this
must be, aud will strive to smile over
her little body, all cold and shrouded for
the grave, and thank Thee that it is no
worse" E$
And Emily Alden rose from the side of
her babe, and suppreasing the violence Of
iter emotious, resumed her sewing.
Ehe cottage room was very neat: rose
vines crept over the window, snd a few
tinid buds ventured through. and hung ON
tbe wooden sills. The aoor was sauded.
the pine chairs stood evealy against the
whits-washed wall, round table shone
IN The corner, and over it hung the portrait
OF a venerable Old man, the father Of Emi-
y, once the minister Of the parish, whose
massive brow and deep set black eyes, in