Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1853-12-22


dear childr Ian epi,het, observed, applied 70
no one but Julia and to see in the counte-
nances fthe three sisters such affectionate re-
spect for her. II was strange what change
had taken place ia that family. 1i F 'aa
Julia took me over her dwelling lrsg 9ii
It was unfinished when we came here, she
said the logs were only piled one above the
other. and a roof laid over them. Henry was
so busy he could assist US. bN little besides
putting in the windows and making the doors.
In fact, we have done all the rest We filled
up with clay the seams between the logs, and
| covered the wallswhh paper, and white
washed the ceiling overhead Is il not white
and nice! and these window-shades, don't you
think the pattern quite pretty1 painted them
myself; and these lounges and oltomans are
our own manufacture, the cabinet work as well
as the upholstery. Could you have believed |
should ever learn the use Of a hammer and
saw! And this carpet; is it not pretty! E
You remember we brought few sheep from
the East. Mother made this carpet from their
fleece and was she not too kind 10 me! she
insisted on putting it down in our room. You
do not think how highly | value il Look
from our window is not that dear little par
terre, They are all prairie flowers, you per-
ceive; and are they not beautiful There is
our little arbor; the vines covering it, found
in the grove. Two birds have bnilded nests
among them, and they sing TO me so sweeIly.
Every morning, they come to my window and
pick the crumps | drop for them
And, Julia, have you learned to make but
ter and cheese!' vrg
pas Yes, indeed, Ihave. Come into the dairy
and see it. Mother praises my work. And |
can make nice bread, too! was longest in
learning to do that Oh, Mrs. c., you
cannot think how ignorant was Of everything
useful when came here. We should have
suffered for wholesome food, / doubt not, had
Henry and I gone to housekeeping alone. |
cannot be grateful enough to mother and the
girls for what they have learned me-
If am not mistaken, Julia, they have as
much reason to be grateful as YOURSELF ua
1t makes me happy to hear you say So
she replied. Henry's sisters are dear, good
girls; and they were not ignorant, though
they were SO awkward am doing all can
for them. Does not Lucy appear we'll on
horseback She would do credit to Craige !;
and her sisters ride as we'll. They are learn
ing to sing beautifully; and do you not per-
ceive they are becoming very graceful in their
manners! Lucy is reading French very well;
and come into our sitting-rOom again. These
drawings are hers. Does she notexhibit some
talente Lucy, you recollect, was one of the
girls who drove the cattle when we came from
the East, and-can you believe it (! she is now
engaged to be married to that young man you
saw her riding with. He belongs to one of
the most respectable families in Philadelphia ;
and am very anxious that my husbands sis
circle to which he will introduce her. was
acquainted with W in the East. He was
travelling through the Western States, and
hearing that | was somewhere in Iowa, he
took particular pains to find me. llearned, a
few weeks after we arrived here, that he was
in our neighborhood, and was enquiring for
me and you may be sure / did my best to
make good appearance before the young
man. Lucy had not begun to love me then,
but somehow ! pursuaded her to let me do
with her as pleased and put on her aneat,
becoming dress of my own, and arranged her
hair-you know her hair is very beautiful
in pretty curls, and she appeared so well that
w was quite fascinated. knew him to
be most estimable young man, and that Lucy
deserved good husband, and did everything
in my power to encourage their acquaintance
Since then she has put herself entirely under
my guidance, and W has promised me
he will not persuade her to marry him until
| consent She does not know it yet, but
tomorrow piano he has ordered will arrive
here for her. anticipate great pleasure in
learning her music i
why, Julia, what darling wife and SIS
ter you are making ol ~ llr
Tears sprang into the young lady's eyes
Il hope shall deserve the praises bestowed
on me, she said; sometimes ] am afraid
they will spoil me- .
.And you are really happy here. You do
not regret the sacrifices you have made for
your husbands' H T
Sacrifices Mrs. c., / have asked Hen
ry's forgiveness for the words have uttered,
and every day thank him for the happiness |
enjoy. A life of activity and usefulness is to
me life Of beauty. You do not think what a
frivolous, selfish creature should be were l
differently situated. There is but one thing
which troubles me-the thought of my dear
uncle whom, when he forbade Henry his
house, | left in anger. have written to him,
entreating his forgiveness for my disobedience,
and telling him how happy am in my new
home. | did not expect reply, and none has
come. suppose he did not credit the story !
told him; but when Lucy goes to Philadelphia
she will meet with my uncle, and am sure
she will give him favorable idea Of the fami-
ly to which she belongs
The tale the writer is telling is no fiction ;
and, perhaps, the eye for which it was pre-
pared NAV glance over 1t. fit does, that old
gentleman may rest assured that the dear girl,
for whose welfare he would have sacrificed