Daily American telegraph. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1851-1852, 1852-07-27
AMERICAN TELEGRAPH.
From the National Era.
Our Minister'S Second Wife.
BY MARY IRVING.
TCoNCLUDED.l

child of luxurious Southern home. Not a
sunbeam had ever been allowed to kiss her
cheek too rudely. Not wish of her heart
had been sighted by equal or inferior. Not
On atom of responsibility had ever burdened
those willowy shoulders, nor a particle Of the
sordid, real dust of this everyday life ever
soiled those fair, small fingers Poor Emily
it was no wonder that she knew little of house.
keeping in the land of the free!" She had
a sort of vague idea that house would keep
ITSELF if lady in a white apron, jngling
bunch of keys sat in its parlor, walked through
its halls occasionally, and peeped into its
kitchen once or twice week.
Truly, Pastor Young it was q wild impulse
but pardonable impulse--that bade you take
that unframed flower to your heart and your
parish
When it is remembered that at least two
thirds of Emily's parishioners were hard-work-
ing farmer women, who lived literally by the
labor of their own hands, and that of no other
than their own women to whom "shiftless-
ness" was the embodiment of all moral as
well as physical infrmities and sins, it will be
understood how soon she became the target of
common gossip.
Mrs 'Liph Brown was not slow in reporting
how, at her second call, lit happened in the in
terregnum between the hegira of Belinda and
the accession of another kitchen queen, red
handed and shrill-voiced, who rejoiced in the
name of "Rocksy,'') she had found g the hall
a heap of chairs, the sttin' room clutter Of
dust,o and the mistress of ceremonies herself
"a sight to look upon" Furthermore she
divulged, as follows:
al couldn't stand that: so rolled up my
sleeves and says !, Now Miss Young, you've
Just got to let me come into your kitchen, and
Ill h. i L.,
it, and said don't know what; but didn't
mind her, for was determined to find out you
see whether she did know anything! went
out to the sink and bless me such another
batch of dishes | never saw in my born days
don't believe she had wet the dry thread Of
dishcloth since she sent off her gal Won
der there was anything left to eat off! Well,
| asked her for this thing and that thing, and
tother thing; and, as Pm living woman, she
didn't know where thing was in her own
house It's my opinion, your Sophy, Widder
Ray, could have laid hands on dish-rag or
wiper in half the time she took to hunt them
up. And then, after all, to think of her bring
ing me real damask towel, to wipe the greasy
knives with She's kind of natural Pm
thinking. Poor Parson Young! His old wo-
man. blessed creetur, wouldn't rest still in her
grave, if she knew what hurra's nest her old
home was turned into!"
Emily did not know all that people thought
and said of her, fortunately for her peace.
| Her husband, whose heart was wounded by
every shaft aimed at her, tried to keep these
venomed arrows from her, who with all her
faults, as he knew, so little deserved to be
| blamed. But she read enough in the averted
eye the cold stare, or the formal salutation of
one and another to know that she was not be-
loved 1t was new thing to her, and it ran
kled in her heart like a thorn, poisoning the
happiness of her life Too proud to conde-
scend to conciliate, she repaid contempt by
silent contempt, formality and reserve by a
princely portion of the same. She secluded
herself in her maple-embowered home rarely
going out of it, except to church, or to the
house of her q only friend, }" as she often called
the invalid Mrs. Stephens. That lady knew
even less of what passed in the neighborhood
than Mrs. Young did; for she was one whose
ears were never unsealed to tale of slander.
Her mild blue eye would confuse even Aunt
'Liph in the outset of long story, with its
glance of calm decision.
Sitting in her easy chair, among her books,
birds, and greenhouse plants she was always
ready to welcome Emily with the sweetest of
smiles, the tenderest of tones, and the kindest
of kisses. But the minister's wife was too
proud to disclose her hearts trials, even to her.
and she could not advise her, as she might
have done had she known all which she often
suspected.
The summer went by, and the chilly winds
Of winter came back. Emily was not strong.
Her bodily energies, unframed from childhood,
had been too suddenly overtaxed, and the
breath of .censure had fallen on her like q
blight upon the flower whose name she bore.
1t had been standing grievance among the
ladies of the church, that she had never, since
the first few meetings, attended the sessions OF
the Sewing Society,"" charitable association
for stitching and-small talk, which sometimes
with grief be it confessed, degenerated into scan-
dal. At last, Mrs. Ray was appointed COM
vance before the pastors wife, and deal with
her upon the subject of her duty.
Her report was made, in full, the very after
noon after the morning of her special call, to
the matrons and maids in Society assembled;
at her house. We give q few items only; pre-
missing that all were listening to it, with grave
faces and folded hands, as though they were
Jury TO try Mrs Young for her life.
al thought it my duty, ladies, to discharge
my disagreeable commission, by waiting on
Mrs. Young this morning" Here followed
sundry notes on her sins Of dress. told
her that the ladies were grieued-l think did
not use too strong q term-did |, ladies 2"
Murmurs of "No, no."
"That the ladies were grieyed at her peril
nacity in absenting herself from our quiet
afternoon sociables; and that to secure the
influence in the parish which minister's wife,
by right, should exert she must not feel above
association with any members of our church
and society. Side glances and shrugs of
scornful meaning.
~ also feel it my duty to report ladies'
though most reluctantly-that Mrs Young re-
ceived me with great treserve-with even haugh-
tiness | nm cnmnalled To add She condo.