The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1853-03-12
Correspondence ofIhe Cecil Wing.
Letter from Maude,
IN WHICH SHE TELLS
A Pretty Little story.
WHERE-AwAY, FEB. %, '53.

WnERE-AwAY, FEB. %, '53.
Mr.. EDIToR:-A headache excused me from
reading to Uncle John tonight, as is my Gus.
tom, generally, of an evening, and have come
away TO my room, not TO battle and nurse nv
head, (atho' it does &C he.) but to gossip with
you; and first let me tell you what | think of
occurs" letter. In charging me with ailec-
tation, he brings no new accusation; that sin
having been laid at my door ever since was old
enough 10 know that sweet smiles, artess man
ncrs and scornful little losses of the head. pro-
duce wonderful effect sometimes. But if rightly
comprehend his meaning, he thinksI've no bust
ness to say, (altemptD lively, witty things, be-
cause IT'S not my nature.
Now, I'm induced TO think that "Coeur' has
mistaken Maude for somebody else, or somebody
else for Maude; and by way of helping him to
my identity would state that have neither q
"lons face melancholy, dreamy eye nor
'hroken heart That love sunshine and flow
ers, children and laughler-have no decided
fancy for pigs, but admire chickens exceeding
iy, (when broiled.) That in the Summer time
j love to toss the new mown hay-am g ven TO
clambcring about the old barn in search Of
H'hrn's nests" and think it nothing strange for
Father to ask me TO drive the cows scout of the
'cornfeld.'' Oh what "patk"lic," rustic letters
I'll write Tor "Cocmr," and the rest of YOU when
l get homc ''upon the iarm'' next Summer.
But now, let me tell you a little story. was
sitting very cozily before my fire the other
morning, res'ing .Dream- Liie," when light
tap ut my door was followed by the entrance of
a Sigh. gih whose ie1 black ringlels clustered
about brow very suir and white. Her eyes
.shone with a strange unnatural light. Upon
either check was Il bright crimson spot, winch
added a terrible hcz uly to her otherwise exceed
inglv lovely face. In her and she bel a small
basket filled with choice flowers. Advancing
with lansuid sep, she sank upon a low seat
at my side. aud throwing hack her bonnet she
laid her head urnn my knee and with an air Of
great WEAKNESS Suid,--holIing the basket TO-
wards me
"See what a beautiful lvescnt Harry has sent
me; and this-drawiny a small note from her
bosom-was hidden amoRg the flowers; read it
10 me-" And read:
"My FLOWER AS The weather is too damp
for my delicate house-lbanl TO take her accu>-
TONED wax this morning, | send this basket IT
sweet buds and fra grast leaves, to gladden. tjly
henrt, and whisper hea uilul, loving things TO
thee. Dost thou love these sweet flowers !?
Then heerken to them while they tell thee how
much / lore my gentle h0ucr, and how desoiate
this world would seem we've She los! to me.
Hast thoE considered what was Sayngtu thee
yesterday Hoping that the sun will shine To-
morrow, bid thee, Love, good morning!
HARRY"
As rcfolded the note, said:
"l'EL', what was Harry saying TO you yester-
dayl"
"Notsnne; only tryiag to convince me thai
one OF .nese bright mornings ought to go with
him to visit Parson Browne. The truth is
Muudc, forl may as well tell you,) Harry
patience is neatly exhausted, and no wonder
for ii is four years. was just fifteen then
since he first asked Papa to give me TO him; an.
Papa, forgetting all save the old family feud
answered him with scOrn and forbade him lh
house. Two years after, Harry again urge,
he asks me to gire myseyto him, since there i
no longer any hope that Papa will ever be in
duced 10 do so. And"-
':And What, BEL Z"
"Whr, Ma.d< do you think il would be wron
for me to marry Harry without papa's con
scnti l sometimes feel that am hardly deal
with. la the wide world know of but one be
ing. dor Papa never did love nc y who trul
loves me, and him am forbidden to love. Oh
am so weary Of this continued strife. | some
times long for peace-for rest beside my Moth
er, in our village Church-yard."
And then, she sobbed so pteou sly that
would have wept too, had not my heart bee
swelling with indignation and anger again,
the old Judge, her father. Could he be S
blind as not TO see that Bel' was dying7 Oh
was his heart SO hard, his pride so stubborn
that to save the life OF his only child lie woul
not forgiven
Afterconversing a long time with my thought
decided that Be' would be justified in marry
ing Harry without the Judge, consent, and wa
just going TO tell her as much, when she mur
mured-"Yes Harry, ri go!''
The poor weary child she had fallen aslee
with her head upon my knee and now whisper
ing her dream aloud. smiled as thought
"dreams sometimes prove true" and smiling
yet sad, watched while she slept.
MAUDE.
Beautiful Custom.