Daily evening star. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1852-1854, 1853-01-05
WASHINGTON.
DAILY EVENING STAR.
NELLIE LANE,

A0Ao "as d How arfESai III L.. Ayoung
man Of gentlemanly appearance and genteel
address, alighted from his stage coach and
announced his intention to remain few
months in the town. The gentleman gave
no reason for so doing; he never limited his
occupation, never asked if he could procure
work. He paid his. bill every Saturday
night without a murmur. What, whoewas
he :? The fat landlady had intimated that
she thought he was young. The gentleman
stared and left the room. The consequence
was that Mrs. Hobbs talked herself into
hoarse cold; she was sure che want eny-
buddy to act so. she knew"
Now, Mrs. Hobbs was one of those won
derfully gifted persons who always knows
every ones business except her own. The
town of l. was well provided with such
characters. They made the life of the place
And if you get goodly number congrega-
ted in one town, just stop up the key-holes
of your drawers, or else they'll see love
letter in one corner. Don't wear your neck
chain, if you do sharp eyes may see gen.
tlemans portrait appended to it. If you
walk out with your father, they'll ask chow
many yards you put in sheet?
But few days passed ere Mrs. Hobbs
told Miss Jones that the ''feller's name was
Mordant Gray, and that he was going with
Nellie Lane, and she knew he'd have her."
For once Mrs Hobbs told the truth-that
his name was Mordant Gray-that he had
asked the hand of Nellie Lane in marriage
and had been refused by her father and ac-
cepted by Nellie Gray, every one knew.
Nellie was lovely, and the pet and pride
of her aged parents. They loved her too
well to yield her to the care and keeping of
one they knew nothing definitely about.
But Nellie loved; she asked no questions
twas enough for her that he loved her in
return. Twas enough, and so she left her
fathers house, and went, she knew not
where, with Mordant Gray.
Mr.. Lane grew very pale, and his hand
trembled as he turned the key to Nellie's
room and Mrs. Lane gave her harp into
the hands of a stranger. From that hour
her name was never mentioned. There
fell a silence o'er the old house silence
such as death leaves. They heard from
Nellie but once, and then she was the star
of the fashionable circle
The old man did not curse his child, he
remembered that she had nestled to his
bosom, even as she now nestled to another's;
that her white hand had rested on his
brow, or twined the silver hair in many
massive curl; he said she was his child
yet, no matter for the rest
It is better to bless than curse. It mat
ters not how deeply you are wronged, curses
do no good They will meet you in after
years; they will rise up at every step,
whispering, eff ye had blessed the wrong
would not have fallen" There will come
memory of sunny eyes that have met yours
in trustfulness of small hands clasping
thine in confidence; of red lips, which
spoke, it may be, love VOWS. Curse them
not, though those eyes looked inquiry; the
hands worked it; the lips spake it. Curse
not, say, though they blight your life
prospects. Bless, and the sun glideth
through the clouds ); curse, and the temp
est low ers.
Not many weeks after Nellie's departure,
they bore her mother to the grave.
Twas q year after Mrs. Lanes death that
one clear, cold night, Mr.. Lane sat by the
freside, his clasped hand resting on the old
Bible, and his voice raised in prayer.
He did not hear the door open; he saw
no one enter, until mufaed form stood by
his side.
"Father father! father ~
The thick veil fell back, leaving exposed
the wan, white face of Nellie Lane
The old man started to his feet. He
pushed back the matted curls and peered
earnestly into that face. He opened his
arms UMv Nellie I" and she Law sohbi no on