Daily evening star. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1852-1854, 1853-05-30
The Little Emigrant.
By MRS. MARIANNE DENIsOS,


Carry O'Moore, they called her-the
stout couple to whom he was child, for
tune, everything. | called her mavour-
neen-a name she seemed to like NIGHTLY
Others, again, according to their differ
ent tastes, named her Pet" Lilly"
Bird and sweet love words that suited
well her gentle nature.
Garry O'NIoore! she was the light of
that ships company. Not one of her
coarse countrymen, rich in brogue and
blouse, bat took his smoky pipe from his
lips to give Carry word of endearment.
Even the old cook, a stumpy, dumpy el-
low, with a temper as crooked as his
tongue, land that was Dutch,) let his
face down into the edge of good natured
smile, every time she thrust her sunny
brow in the old caboose.
Among the cabin passengers in the
good ship Speed-Eagle, were two child
less old people. Under the shadow of an
awful dignity, they looked out upon the
little world surrounding them, with
high bred composure, in which was con-
centrated the very quintessence Of aris-
tocracy. They were rich, proud, and of
high family. This was the reason why,
when every eve sparkled at the innocent
pranks of Carry O'Moore, they never let
the child more than touch the hem of
their garments. But one day Garry was
irresistible< She would slide up to the
old couple-G own encouraged her) and
peep out of the edges of her blue eyes,
holding on one side her beautiful head,
till the long bright lashes over-pencilled
the soft arching eyebrows. I noted, ev-
cry time she shook back those golden
tresses-she had true English beauty,
f1axen hair and pink and white complex
ion-their eyes followed the tremulous
gleam that waved from the crown to the
tips of the curls. Presently a small,
white, ungloved hand was out-held, and
Carry's dimpled fingers nestled in the
half-doubting clasp. -~s-
81 did not before notice that the child
was SO beautiful" said the old lady, los
ing her general air of composure, as she
turned to her husband. Then again she
bent down, looked searchingly into those
glorious eyes, yentured to stroke back
the silken locks, and gave her husband
another mysterious look, as she said:
"Does she not make you think Of"
"For heavens sake" interrupted her
husband, "say no more. The thought
struck me too-but that is SO far beneath
her-a little Irish beggar, or at best
bog-child, should bear any resemblance
to our lost darling-the thought is insup-
portable" And he turned away with
the pride of twenty noble generations
mantling his lofty brow.
| Notwithstanding this holy horror" !"
the child seemed every day to win near
er and surcr place in the hearts of the
aged couple. The old man grew quite
uneasy if the beautiful smile failed to
greet him as often as he ascended from
the cabin. | noticed also some little lux
ury added from time to time to the scam
ty wardrobe of the pretty Cary; and at
last, some few days before We came with
in sight of land she was almost constant
ly near them, won, as children are, by
play-things and gifts that enhanced her
wonderful beauty. Among the latter
was little blue silk hat, with delicate
gossamer feather, that looked as if it
might have been locked away as some
precious memento; and little light
. crimson scarf, with pair Of blue shoes.