Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1852-07-14
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80 on don't love my mother, said little
Ellen Crosby, slowly retreating from her
father, with her hands behind her, and her
lips quivering as she spoke:
a-esss' Whatdo You mean pct9'' he exclaimed,
springinge after her, and drawing her resist
ing form towards him; that is a very
strange thing for q little girl to say; what
nut it into your head that father don't love
mother2" he continued, smoothing back her
soft hair from her white forehead, and look
ing earnestly into her downcast eyes.
-" Because when mamma went away from
the table you spoke cross, and said she was
always sick and she has got a headache" "
added the child earnestly, while the tears
trickled down her checks. Ihave been
sitting beside her all the afternoon, and rub
bing her forehead and she is sick and tired
very often, and you never tell her you are
sorry, nor kiss her as you do me-"
Charles Crosby drew his little girl closer
to his bosom. Her artless words had fallen
like fire upon his heart. He felt instantly
that he had spoken harshly more than oEce
to the gentle being who had never given him
an, unkind word. Seven years Of his we'd
ded life had passed calmly and lectly. Be-
lug young aud a most i,npulsive creature
when he married, he could hardly appreciate
the deep, holy love which his sweet bride
treasured for him and him only. After the
romance Of the affair, as it seemed 10 him,
had settled into a quiet, perhaps, monoto-
nous reality, his restless spirit yearned for
some fresh novelty. To work through the
day, to come home at night and spend the
evening hours, BY the side of his wa4asaand
infant child, whose beautiful face cleaned
like rosebud upon the white pillow in her
little wicker basket cradle, became tiresome
to him. He wished his Ellen had more vi
vacity, more brilliancy, forgetting that these
might accompany a varablsness of temper.
a,nent that would truly have made his home
unhappy.
Ellen was most excellent wife; hers was
that inward purity which stamps upon the
features loveliness far beyond mere beauty;
nobody llesitated to call her handsome; her
ways were winning, her form slightly and
fragile; withal she had so much prudence
and was so good a manager, that from the
time or his marriage, Charles Crosby had
been accumulating riches. But she needed
affection and much care; she was delicate,
and so sensitive that word of reproacl
from one she esteemed. would cause almost
serious illness. The language of her full
blue eyes, as they were sometimes fixed up.
on The noble face Of her husband was, love
me; oh how yearn for yonr full, unre-
strained love! then they would fall to the
floor while the consciousness that he was
not towards her in manners rs he had once
been, aud oh, she feared, not in heart-would
send an icy thrill through every fibre Of her
frame. OF late, Charles Crosby had often
become an alien to his home, until the mid
night hour; he had found, as he thought
choice and congerial spirits. and with them
"the spirit of wo," that is the spirit o.
wine" But alas! his fine manners were
disappearing; his home was not an earthly
paradise to him now--he had grown very
cold and worldly; indeed he knew not the
extent ofsthe change in himself
He worshipped his lovely child; and call
ether by the sweet names Of fairy, and
apets md q darling she was in truth such
n an one as few, very few parents are blessed
4 with e.Aild Of neither ordinary beauty OF
y Intellect; and but fer her mothers iudicieus