Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1853-08-10


hear him and Annette repeat the evening prayer
and hymn, her lips had taught them; to comb out
the long brown braids of Emily's head; to rob Ar
thur of the story-book over which he would have
squandered s'the midnight oil - and to breathe a
kiss and blessing over the pillow of each other
sister, as she tucked the warm blankets tcnderly
about them. We did not know how often, of late
she had stolen down again, from these sisterly du-
ties5 after senses locked in sleep; or, if
our eyes and ears had ever been open to the fact,
we could never have suspected the minister to be
guilty of such plot against our peace That
name was associated, in our minds, with all that
was superhuman. The gray-haired pastor, who
had gone to his grave six months previous, had
and talked as kindly with us. We had loved him
as father and friend, and had almost worshipped
him as the embodiment of all attainable goodness.
And when Mr.. Neville came among us, with his
hight, pale forehead and soul l-kndlng eye, we had
thought his face also 'sthe face of an angel"-too
glorious for the print Of mortal passion! Espec-
tally after, in answer to an urgent call from the
people among whom he was laboring, he had
frankly told them that his purpose not to re-
main among them, or anywhere on his native
shore; that he only awaited the guidance of Prov
idence to home in foreign cline. After this
much-bewailed disclosure of his plans, we placed
our favorite preacher on ahigher pinnacle of saint
ship.
But sister Ellen was to be tnarried-and mar
ried to Mr.. Neville! And then-ssOh, sister, you
are not going away to India!" burst from our lips,
with fresh gush of sobs.
was the first to look up into Ellen's troubled
face 1t was heaving with emotions that rufaed
its calmness, as the tide waves ruff1e the sea-
Her lips were firmly compressed; her eyes were
fixed on some distant dream, glassed with two
tears, that stood still in their chalices, forbidden
to fall. I almost trem bled as caught her glance.
"Sisters Agnes-Emily! she exclaimed, in
a husky whisper. "Dont break my heart! Do
love home less than''-
The effort was too much; the words died on her
lips. We lifted her to the bed, frightened into
forgetfulness of our own grief We soothed her,
until she, too, wept freely and passionately and,
in weeping, grew strong for the sacrifice to which
she had pledged her heart.
We never spoke another word of remonstrance
to her tender heart; though often in the few
months that fitted by US together, we used to
choke with sobbing, in some speech that limited
of the coming separations and hurry from her pres
et1ce to cry alone.
Our mother had told us the tidihgs, with white
lips that quivered tenderly and sadly No love is
so uniformly unselish as a mothers, surely; for,
though she had leaned on Ellen as the strong staff
of her declining years, she sorrowed not, as we
did, that she was going. She was too happy in
the thought that her child had found that sspearl of
price'' in cold and evil world-a true, noble,
loving heart, to guide and protect her.
Father sat silent in the chimney corner, read
ing in the large family Bible. He looking
farther than any of us-to the perils that would
environ his dearest daughter and the priyations
that might come upon her young life, in that I'M
healthy, uncivilized corner of the globe, whittier
she was going. But both our parents had dedicat-
ed their children at the baptismal shrine, when
God first lent the priceless gifts; and they would
not cast even shadow on the path of self sacri-
flee and duty their darling had chosen.
To come down to the unromantic little details
of wedding preparation-how we stitched and
trimmed packed and prepared-how we stoned
rasins, with tears in our eyes, and seasoned the
wedding cake with sighs. But there is little use
in thinking over these things. Ellen was first and
foremost in all, as she had always been in every
emergency, great or small. Nothing could be
made without her. Even the BRIDES cake was
taken from the oven by her own hands, because
no one-servant, sister, nor even mother-was
willing to run the possible risk of burning sister
Ellen's bride cake and she "knew just how to
bake it!'
We were not left alone in our labors; for Ellen
had been loved by more than the home-roof shell.
tered. Old and young, poor and rich, united in
bringing their gifts, regrets, and blessings, to the
chosen champion of the pastor they soon to
lose. There is something in the idea of mission
ary life that touches the sympathy of every heart
Mammon has not too long scared. To see one
with sympathies and reinements like our own,
rend the strong ties that bind to country and home
comfort and civilization, for the good of the lost
and degraded heather, brings too strongly into
relief, by contrast the selfshness Of most human
;ves 1Ad among the gaieties and luxuries of Time.
The day, the hour, came. The snip was te
sail from b, on the ell5uing week ; and II
must take away an idol. 1...s..
She stood up in the village church, that all who
loved her, and longed for another sight of he
sweet face, might look upon her, and spoke th'
simple words that should link hearts for eternity
We sisters stood all around her, but not too near
for our hearts were overfowing and we could no
wear the happy faces that should grace train o
bridesmaids. She had cheered through tn
| day, with sunshine from her own heart, and eve
while we arraying her in her simple whit