Wisconsin tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1847-1854, 1853-10-13

l.
ter of its petals. SO, another flower was
added to those of which 1 have written,
and another period was yelled beneath
the robe of Beauty.
Again another history but no bright
flower bloomed above its opening roll =
Ivy twined itself closely around its scenes.
and the Oak, with its dark foliage, threw
a softened, twilight shade over the remain
ing portions of the life of the artist
From the studio where he had so de-
votedly labored, Earnest returned at nj ght-
fall to his mother The unsteadiness of
his step as he crossed her apartment, and
the wildness of his manner, told of the
suffering he was enduring All night she
listened to his restless movements on his
couch, aud with the earliest approach of
morning stood beside him Earnest was
i'll; more Ill than the mother who so low
ed him had ever before known him to be
Long he tossed upon sick bed the
while his studio was deserted, and men
asked sadly for the mute artist whose ST.
lence and devotion to the schools had won
their sympathy. Long the physician sat
within the shaded chamber of the sick
man, counting the pulses that told the
mysterious workings of disease. Through
him. gifts were offered to the mother and
her SON. and fruits and flowers, showered
around them were bat slight tokens of
the interest they had excited
Sickness is a stern teacher but for me
it has its blessings The shaded light of
the room wherein lie helpless as child
subdues the evil of my nature | have
tancied | could be content so to pass many
Nf., G, l. !
sharp tones sting me as the icy winds of
March. The mild voice of the sick room
the foot fall that seems almost ETHEREAL, 1t
is SO soft and gentle the one kind face
that ever fingers beside the bed the cool
hand that adjusts the pillow. or smooths
back the fallen hair from the heated fore
head, only rendered k0Usand-fold more
dectr if it move at the whispered cry Of
Mother : all this, and more than | can
write, makes sickness holy visitant to
me.
The poor suffering mute could not so
read its teachings It's silence had no
added charm for him the softened light
fell painfully upon his eyes, for the form
of the beloved one could not be traced
among its shadows The mothers hand
i-ah that was truly dear and the ply
slcian too-he who from the outer world
of hustle, moved quietly over the thresh
old of the sick mans apartment: and au-
swered with a glance of sympathy the
longing gaze of Earnest, or held commun-
ion through the wondrous fngeralp phabet
with his inmost thoug ghts-shared equally
with the mother in the love Of the poor
mute.
The physician became to him what the
Oak is to the Ivy. Closely did the ten
drills of his enthusiastic nature entwine
themselves around the noble man who
cheered his soul, while with happy skill be
strengthened aud restored the body.
Ivy brighter amid winter SHOWS than
beneath a summers sky, | rejoice In thy
verdure, and will not murmur that the
Rose was not longer permitted to bloom
beside the Niolets that shed such precious
odors around the early history OF tue
mute, Earnest.
| saw him, under the extended and en-
during friendship of his physician, rise
above the troubles that surrounded him,
and once more with vigorous power
sumo the duties of his life But the fore
shadowing of another flower Of desolation
made me pray that closer still his heart
strings might be bound around the lofty
soul OF his physician
Once more new period and new
flower
Alas that the Aloe should have been
planted amid SO many precious blossoms
Sad that it should have cast its shadow
upon the fairer buds of earth But the
history admitted of no exchange, and the
Aloe marked the fifth period, as season
Of bitterness and grief.
The artist was again in his old place
before his easel again his secret thoughts
cast their shadows over his works his
soul sickened beneath the sky Of Italy,
and naught but the keen air of his child
hoods home could again restore its healthy
tone Vainly IN the soil of Italy he sought
fer the plants he there had watched and
loved and as the memory of their per
fume crossed his mind, he tainted beneath
the load that pressed upon him. His
mother, too, was piniDg for her native air,
the song of familiar birds, and the low
whis perings of the breeze as 1t ever reach
ed her ear, from off her husbands grave.
But now an ocean interviewed no cher
ishod tone was heard by her as she gazed
wistfully across its waters, toward the
heavens that smiled upon her far-of home.
She did not say it, but she felt that the
vines planted in her native land would
never shed their blossoms above her tomb.
And so, as day declined and the bright
colors faded from the sky, she sat and
mused sadly On the past. and Earnest.
and of the hand that should guide him
when her last hour should have come
She dared not ask whose it would be but
when the physician visited her after the
moon had risen, and the stars were set
along the ways of heaven, she told him of
her fears, and at length to him intrusted
the guardianship of the gifted being who
still dwelt, within her mind, the child l
first beheld him,
Aloes with their marble leaves were
creeping serpentlike around the plants Of
the Violets and the Ivy, and shedding