Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1852-01-23
From the Carpet Bag.
TRACKS IN THE SNOW:
A new Years Secret.
By GEO. CANNING HILL.

btONh uiSS~COj IoioIN itCCu ~ OiliJ q
ate height in quiet va ley. There were
no peaks to its gables, nor lattices to its
windows; for the windows were few, and
the gables numbered still less. Only few
dried and leahess vines nestled about the
easements, and still chung protectingly 10
the low caves.
Poverty brooded in that little home-va LEY
Poverty and Winter! Alas,-wllat re.
lentess companions and friends!
Yet Want had not driven out all love for
the Beautiful from the hearts of the in
jewellers; uor had Neglect and Scorn quite
withered all the leaves of the midsummer
Sympathies.
There was look of comfort, yet warm
upon The cold lips of Winter, lingering
about the door yard Though the curl of
the cottage smoke was as thin as a gossa-
met-clond, yet it betokened warmth, and
cheerfulness, and living gratitude within.
II The remorseless wind broke over the edge
OF the valley-heights, and pIped shrilly at
the crannies aud key holes of the doors,
and blew chilly gusts down the chimney
still it seemed harmless in its cruel onsets
and lis londest shrieks only died away into
tnelodious and dreamy lullabies.
There Was a spirit Of warmth within and
around that little dwelling in the valley,
which no cold coul d ever freeze; look of
comfort, that no ferceness of the elements
could aDash and drive away; a glow OF pure,
ever living sympathy, such as would melt
away all SHOWS, of all falllng-depths
The distant village clock sounded the
Y hour of nine over The valley edges, on the
might Of the last day IF the year To many,
those ouipourings from the brazen-tllroated
bell were full OF joyful music. To many,
they were but the heralds Of thicker pleas
'Ires Tor the coming year. Yet to many,
were they only the dismal premonitors Of
tast-comlng trials, wants, and sorest per-
''' tfffow could these strokes of the bell ring
the same music for all hearts within its
reach /? The audible circuit they ran, hem
med IN other hearts than those that beat
with undated happiness. Within that cl-
Gle, on this last night of the lime-worn year,
grim tears stalked in and sat in the corner
ofmany home hearths, and gaunt spectress
held out their skinny hands for an embrace
with many poor widows and impoverished
children.
just at the moment those nine Changing
strokes OF the bell fell Oh the ear of the
widow Russell, she looked about the room
IN which she sat, and involuntarily shud-
dered and drew nearer the Pickering fire.
Are you cold, mother? asked the voice of
young girl, as musical as the falling of
crystal waters.
No, child but
The reply was thus abruptly broken off.
Hark, mt ther Hear it snows cried the
child young girl of not more than nine
years. Hear it strike against the window
panes.
The mother drew her offspring nearer her,
and pressed her innocent head into her lap.
Will the ground be covered by the morn
ing, mother? pursued the child, halfraising
her head, and looking wonderingy into the
expiring fire-fames. Will everything be
whte-as white as the walls, or as the
streets?
know not, my dear child, answered the
widow; but as she spoke, she shcddered
again.
Does the thought of the snow make you
cold, mother? continued theIchid. Can't
you bear to think of the white snow falling
so still all the night, when you know il
won't fall on us?
Perhaps | shudder at my fears, my child,
replied The mother.
Fears?
-out ouOuIu uOl lell you. gu
should not know, sweet Ruth
What fear? persisted little Ruth, now
looking with an expression of passive sweet
ness and earnestness into her parents face.
AL that moment hct teal dropped from
the widows eye lid. 1t fell upon the un-
stained cheek of the angel child
Mother-motheE What fears? now cried
the iear-stricken Ruth.
We are poor answered the woman and
the tears at these words fell in rain.
foor? Is that all the reason why YOU
cry, nay mother?
neaVen bless you, child, and ever keep
your heart as free as it is nowl cried the
widow Russell. You know nothing yet of
.ne trials OF poverty. The eve Of every
new Year only brings back nv condition
10 my mind more forcibly; and | always
leei saddened. These lost nights of the
year, child, have become to me as SO MANY
anniversaries of my poverty, which must
sacrediy keep even against nv will. sac
now nothing but want before-noth;ng
dear child, but want. e'
Mofher!-dear mother; pleaded the child
aleetionately with her.
But you besought me 10 tell Won all this
Ruth, and II may be as well that Won hear Il
now. With the work can do during ,hs
coming winter, ] can just live But am
sadly IN arrears about my rent, and TO- NOR.
row must pay my last quarters, or leave