The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1852-03-03
THE DAILY DISPATCH
From Chambers Edinburgh Journal.
BLIGHTED FLOWERS.

From Chambers Edinburgh Journal
BIZ HTED OwERS.
The facts Of the following brief narrative,
which are very few and Of but melancholy in
terest, became known to me in the precise
order IN which they are laid before the reader.
Ihey were forced upon my observation rather
than sought out by me; and they present, to
my mind at least, touching picture of the
bitter conflict industrious poverty is sometimes
called upon to wage with the thousand natu
raj shocks which flesh is heir to-
1t must be now eight or nine years since, in
traversing certain street, which runs for near
~ halt mile in direct line southwark, first
encountered Ellen -. She was then q fair
young girl OF seventeen, rather above the mid
die size, and with a like air and gait
which made her appear taller than she really
was. Tier countenance, pale but healthy, aud
OF perfectly reg ular and classic mould, was
charming TO look upon from its undefnable
expression of lovableness and sweet temper.
Her tiny feet tripped noiselessly along the
pavement, and glance from her black eye
sometimes met mine like a ray of light, as,
p9nctuaily at twenty minutes TO nine, we pass
ca each other near House, each of US on
our way to the theatre Of our daily operations,
She was an embroideress, as | soon discover
ed from small stretching frame, containing
some unhnished work, which she occasionally
carried In her hand. She set me a worthy ex-
ample OF punctuality, and | could anv day
nave told the time to minute without looking
at my watch, by marking the spot where we
passed each other. learned to look for her
regularly, and before | knew her name had
given her that of Minerva in acknowieipe.
ment OF her efficiency as mentor.
year alter the commencement of our ac.
quaIntance, which never ripened into speech,
happening to set out from home one morning
a quarter of an hour before my usual time. /
made the pleasing discovery that nv juvenile
Minerva had younger sister, if possible still
more beautiful than herself. The pair were
taking an affectlonate leave Of each other at
the crossing of the New Road, and the silver
accents of the younger as, kissing her sister.
she laughed out, 'Goodby, Elem gave me
the first information of the real name of my
pretty mentor. The little Mary-for so was
the younger called, who could not be more
than eleven years of age-was a slender,
frolicsome sylph, with skin of the puresi
carnation, and face like that of Sir Joshua's s
seraph in the National Gallery, but with larger
orbs and longer lashes shading them. As she
danced and leaped before me on her way home
again, could not but admire the natural ease
and grace of every motion, nor fail to conpre-
hend and sympathise with the anxious looks OF
the sisters only parent, their widowed mother,
who stood watching the return of the Younger
darling at the door of very humble two.
story dwelling, in the vicinity of the New
River Head.
Nearly two years passed away, during
which, with the exception of Sunday and hoI-
days. every recurring morning brought me the
grateful though momentary vision of one or
both of the charming sisters. Then came an
additional pleasure-I met them both together
every day. The younger had commenced
practising the same delicate and ingenious
craft OF embroidery, and the two pursued their
industry IN company under the same EMPLOY
er. 1t was amusing to mark the demure as
sumption of womanhood darkening the brows
of the aerial little sprite, as, with all the new
born consequence of responsibility, she walked
soberly by her sisters side, frame in hand, and
occasionally revealed to passers-by a brief
giinse OF her many-cOlOured haniiwoIk. They
were the very picture of beauty and happiness,
and happy beyond question must their limo
cent lives have been for many pleasant months.
But soon the shadows of care began to steal
over their hitherto joyous faces, and traces of
anxiety, perhaps of tears, to be too plainly Wis
ibe on their paling cheeks. All at once
missed them in my mornings walk, and for
several days-it might be weeks-saw nothing
OF them. was at length startlestfrom my for
getulness of their very existence by the sud-
den apparltoD of both on Monday morning.
S'oo '' t'iS uSOpSct LlUuiUlUg. saw tne tfutn
at once: the mother, who, | had remarked,
was prcmaturely old and feeble, was gone, and
the two orphan children were left to battle il
with the world. My conjecture was the truth
as neighbor of whom made some INQUIRIES
on the subject, was not slow to inform me
,Ah, sir said the good woman, poor Mrs.
D. have had hard time of it, and she
born an bred genteooman.'
asked her if the daughters were provided
for.
Indeed, SIR continued my informant, Pm
afeard not. Twas the most unfortnatest thing
IN the world, sir, poor Mr DIS dying Jest as
a did. You see, sir, he war soldier, fight
IN out in Indy, and his poor wife left at home
WI them two blossoms o. gals. He warn'l
"hatyou call common soldier, sir, but some
KIND o. officer like; an in some great battle
fought seven year agone he done fine service
I've heerd, and promotion was send out to 'un,
Dut didnt get there till the poor man was dead
OF his wounds. The news of he's death cut no
his poor wife complete, and she han't been
nerself since. I've know'd she wasn't long
Tor here ever since ii come. Wust of all. il
seems mat because the poor man was dead the
very day the promotion reached 'un, a. didn't
de captain after all, and so the poor widder
didn tget no pension. How they've a. managed
to live is more than can tell. The Oldest gal
Is very clever, they say; but Lor' bless ZEE!
taiht much to sport three as is 10 be got
o'broiderin.'' so'
Thus enlightened on the subject of their
private history, it was with very different feel
ings afterwards regarded these unfortunate
children. Bereft of both parents, and cast up.
on world with the ways of which they were
utterly unacquainted, and in which they mig ht
De doomed to the most painful struggles, even
10 procure bare subsistence, one treasure
was yet left TO them-it was the treasure of
each others love. So far as the depth OF this
feeling could be estimated from the looks and
actions OF both, it was all in all to each. But
the sacred bond that bound them was destined
TO be rudely rent asunder. The cold winds
OF autumn began to visit too oughly the fair
paie iace OF the younger girl, and the unmis-
taxable indications of CONSUMPTION made their
appearance the harassing cough, the hectic
cheek, the deep-settled pain in the side, the
failing breath. Against these dread forerun
ners It was vain long TO contend; and the