The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1854-07-13

had the balminess of June, almost it was in
deed as if a day had strayed out of April The
half-mOon stood whitening through the glory
that was not yet gone from the west; the
winds were laid, and not sound broke the
silence but the tinking of the cow bells, or the
far-off barking of the watch-dogs
sat on the grassy knoll among the apples,
trying in vain to turn my thoughts out of
gloomy channels, when slow footstep startled
me- and walking by the brook, in the hollow be-
low me- saw my mother. She wore shawl,
wrapped about her, but her hair, still black as
it was on her bridal day, was uncovered. My
first impulse was to join her but the next mo.
ment | saw it all and sinking back on the
ground, wept long and bitterly. She was bid
ding farewell to all the familiar scenes of her
life.
A few days after this, and when she could
not sit up any more she called me to her bed
side, and talked of all the household affairs
giving me directions for the management of
things as if she were going long journey.
Hetty stood close beside her, half in fear and
half in wonder and when my mothers advice
was ended, she laid her thin hand on the child's
head, se if invoking Gods blessing, but she ut
tered no words. My dear, good mother, if you
ever come about me now, what do you think of
me strayed so far from the example of meek
and quiet beauty-fallen so infinitely below the
hallowed radiations of a true life.
My father knew how good she was, and how
wise she was, yet the grass had not grown over
her blue eyes, when her place was filled by one
who did not love us-by one whom We could
not love-a woman without heart or intellect
a sort Of machine, that wound itself up in the
morning, and ran till night. She had inherited
or acquired certain notions, and these were
C E. i. &c
was not much to know. IL might be that one
or two great men in the world knew one or two
thipgs which she did not, but it was not proba-
BILE. don't mean to blame her-her mind
was filed to the limit of its capacity.
She had lived in city, and we children had
not she had once been to boarding school,
and we had not she had some fine clothes,
and we had not and she possessed in her own
right a bureau a bedstead, a cow, some silver
spoons, and teakettle; and, beside these, five
hundred dollars! Indeed, it was rumored
among the neighbors, that my father had mar
ried for the sake of fortune.
In my own estimation, her fortune, as the
five hundred dollars were termed, was her
greatest attraction. She possessed an iron con-
stitution, and was little charitable to those who
could not endure as much as herself In truth,
never knew her to suffer from any ailment or
readily to believe that any one else did. But
now and then death admonished her that we
were subject to Affections though her faith in
the conviction that she possessed as much
money as anybody was never shaken, that |
know of.
In PEI son she was tall and straight, with dark
hair and complexion, and vacant gray eyes,
that looked into space, mostly, and if ever an
object fixed them, seemed not to comprehend
it. Long past youth, she appeared whitening
gradually, but without suffering any diminu-
ton of any faculty she had ever possessed.
Her nose was the prominent feature of her face,
and disease or nature had placed her mouth a
little on one side. | always felt that she was
made of dry dust, and that if she CHANGED to
fall she would crumble to pieces. In character
she was unyieldiDg and unloving; and though,
for the most part she did that which she
thought her duty, it was in a hard, uncompro-
missing way, and many persons, faulticr than
she, might have won mora of our love.
She brought with her, together with the bed,
toakettle, bureau, etc, boy, twelve years old,
perhaps, whom she called DOke. Where born
or bred | never knew, but more unlikeable
specimen of humanity never saw. Ugly as
he was, and alien to all good as be was, she
gave him her highest regard, next tina. which
chung TO the five hundred dollars and the COW.
Yes may safely say the COW stood before the
boy in her affections. She was an animal that
had seen her nine or ten years at least, before
| saw her. and her original beauty had been
abridged by the loss of one horn and her tail.
Doke and the cow and their mistress made a
separate family, and after their introduction
among US there was no union, no oneness OF
interest, as IN the pleasant old times. We
were like streams that flow in one channel, but
mingle not their tides.
Spoons, beds, and dishes, were all kept
apart; even the one-horned COW ran in little
pasture close to the house. She did not other
wise threaten, but things wore the aspect of
being ready to be gathered up and removed at
any moment
How well remember the day she came to
our house-how she sat, stifly upright, gazing
into vacaL cy-heedess of the saucy pranks OF
Doke, and Of poor little Hetty, who stood about
in corners, her hands crossed behind her, and
the tears almost falling from her great mourn
full eyes. | remember how my father seemed
half proud and half ashamed of the new wife
He remained, most of the time, out OF the
house, as if he did not feel at home any more.
He had made an unhappy selection, and think
he felt it the moment it became fate.
Of course she disarrGnged the house, as our
mother had been used to have it, and this she
did without any attempt to reconcile US; it was
her will and that was all.
Precisely at nine O'Clock, we children must
go to bed, and precisely at four we must rise,
summer and winter, for breakfast was prepared
and eaten by candle-light always. We had
not been accustomed to carly rising, and were
sleepy but of this she was inconsiderate, and
having called us once, obliged US, if we failed
to rise, to remain hungry till the next meal.
Our father she usually spoke of as though but
slightly acquainted with him-calling him
Mr.. Halstead, and indicating by her general
bearing that the marriage had been no affair
of her seeking; that she was victim in some
way but that, having been forced into her
present position, she would endeavor with all
her powers to do her duty. Whatever we had
was quite inferior to anything she had been
used to, and whatever she could appropriate to
her special service, which belonged to us or our
father, she seemed to regard as clear profit.
She never laughed aloud-ssldom smiled
indeed-but sometimes have seen her do so,
when Doke accomplished some unusually cum
ming feat; nor did che scold much, but what
she did in that way was for the benefit of
" Mr.. Halsteadn She availed herself of every
opportunity of calling herself our mother, which
we resented by not calling her mother at I'll,
evading the appellatson by calling her Mar
tha," which was her name or by the use Of
she and her, and the like inelegant express
sions.
But what shall say of Doke, or how do
Justice to his peculiar meritsa He had lean
and hungry look, and went gliding from place
to place in search of something to eat-his
hands resembled claws, and moved with Won
derful dexterity from any eatable substance to
his mouth, which, by the way, was always
stuffed so full as to be pursed up like that OF q
monkey. His hair was red as FIRE, and never
combed except with his fingers. His ears were
white as marble almost, and scarcely less than