The Literary echo, and Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1851-1854, 1852-10-16

ever be as happy as they. They were
contented that was all that could bring
thc true JOY to any one wiser than they
| a feeling Of satisfaction cleaned on
his heart, as he looked out at the COM
Portable barns, whose wet roofs wcre
smoking in the distance. 1t took the
subtle form Of a sentiment. A pastoral
poem lived in his soul, as he eazel,
Thou, hts and fancies OF tn most deli
'fcatr In $ chased hcms Ives across his
: brain, and began life they were des-
til. ID to create again in the hearts of
Others. Still there Was anaching void ;
he felt too sorely the need of what as
Yet he possessed not. And while he
'ithus mused, his resolution was slowly
building itself up; its accrotions were
slow, bat they Were 10 be enduring.
Thus passed the hours with a poor
and lonely student in his silent country
chamber. At length his door was
opcned, and his mother entered.
=" Here IS note for you,'' remarked
she.
" From whom ~ inquired he, turn
ling basii y around.
Z" Mr.. Whites man brought it,"
And throwing it down beside him,
while she threw a glance of inquiry
around the room, she went out again.
The young man opened it and read.
1t was matter of sup isc to him to re-
ceive a written n'fsSage of any kind
from Squire White, and he could scarce
compose himself for the ealing. But
when his eyes ceased swimming, and the
words stopped sailing about on the
paper, he made it out that he had re-
ccived polite irritation to pass the fol-
lowing day at the residence of Mr.
White, to meet some young relatives
and friends.
The squire, as he was generally de-
nominated, was bachelor of very re-
spectacle number of years, and had a
fine ruddy complexion, and rich juicy
looking checks. He had bis tempers
and his humors, as everybody else las
but in spite of them, he was man of
great acceptance and worth the country
round. He might occasionally growl
but the growl was always prelude to
something far kinder that was to follow.
In his charities, no one was before him
The poor never went out of his door
with empty hands and sadder hearts
They always left blessing on the
threshold. . GA ..t. .r
What a strange thing is this ~
thought Allan, glanclng first at the note
and then out the window. " Young
company to be at the squire's! l won
der what can have made him think of
me, at such time :" -..-
So he unused upon it. In few mo-
ments his books were forgotten, and his
thoughts were elsew here. The rain did
not seem to him to fail or he might
have ceased to look at it, and wonder
how much longer it would come down
so steadily He did not even notice
now the doves strutting proudly beneath
the caves, and standing at the doors Of
their boxes. His thoughts were upon
the probabilities, the possibilities, and
the contingencies of he hardly knew
what. They were not thoughts exactly;
they where shapelcss. They were
confused mass of tanciful beginnings at
thought; ragged, incoherent and with
out purpose. And o he sat for long
time enjoying the brief dream that had
dlwned upon him.
The sun rose golden the next morning,
and Allan oorc was up betim 5 to see
it. strange event that could drive out
of his mind so suddenly the associations
that slept about his books and papers
Yet he did forget them all /; or, at least,
he appeared to do so.
By ten o'clock he was over at Squire
Whites house. lie met the old gentle
man in the piazza, which he was pacing
with an earnestness that seemed to
demand good health in return for the
exercise.
"Good morning, Mr.. White," said
Allan, saluting him with becoming defer
ence.
"Ah, Mr.. Allan Moore !" exclaimed
the old gentleman, turning suddenly
about and accostiug bis visitor. Walk,
up, sir; pray walk up here. You are
not going to be at all shy now you have
been invited here to try to make your
self, as well as the rest of US, happy.
The truth is, my young friend, my
house has been without echoes as long
as l like, and good deal longer. 1
hate to see it so lonely. So l thought
| would get together good company of