The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1854-11-02
VI tuu ANNIIVudI III a.
H OIL Wv 0 0 D
BY ALICE CAREY.
CHAP. VII-Concluded.

CHAP. VII-Concludcd.
and happy one. | had my little vanity as well
as the rest, and | confess to the trying the eff
feet OF my white dress more than once. Every
day read my part, and night by night walk
| ed III the moonlight, and gave recitations to
the winds. | would not avail myself of the adj
vantages which Christopher's other pupils had.
for they had nightly rehearsals in the school
| house, subject to the lamentations of the mas
| ter. And "The Blind Boy" :" The Cuckoo y
| and the speech of Antony over the dead body
| of Caesar and many other favorito pieces of
| versifcation and dialogue, which / do not re-
member, were uttered with a pathos and power
of which | can give you no notion.
Toward the close of the rehearsals, some of
the elderly folks, fathers and mothers of the
young orators, were permitted to be present,
and their reports of the wonderful excellence of
| the performances stimulated curiosity to its
| utmost pitch. There not a dry eve in the
| house, and it was so still you might have heard
a PIN fall were some part of the ordinary re-
| ports. Even the schoolmaster was said to
have been moved upon one occason-when
| Pythas appeared to die and to redeem his
friend, | think. Two or three BOYS were set
apart in as many families for professions, and
| dignihed by the name of I" the preacher and
the doctor" To chop wood and drop or hoe
| corn was thenceforth below their station but,
| so far as | know, the world has not sanctioned
| any of these little Differences paid to genius,
| which only affection could sec.
AT last, the evening preceding the anticipa-
| ted day was come. The moon was round and
full, and the weather as genial as one could
| wish. The leaves were slowly fading, but the
woods had none of their accustomed gorgeous
| ness, for the frosts had not yet fallen, and
| slow and dusty whitening OF nature made SOM
| bre the landscape before its time.
The sun was down, and along the west the
| dull, red fires were burning slowly out, when
took my way down the quiet lane toward my
| fathers house | had not been there for weeks,
and | hoped that since the sole direction of
things had gone into Martha's hands, they
might have been better managed, for where
| there are two guiding heads to one house
| neither is apt to do duty very well. | was rest
less too, for felt that the crisis of my fate was
| pproaching-was very near and | could not
| remain quiet, but hurried from one thing to
| another To diSspate the time. | had assured
myself, over and over, that all was in readiness.
the white dress, the slippers, the embroidered
kerchiei-all but the flowers, and those left to
take the dew Of one night more.
| For days past. Mr.. Richards and ] had not
met alone but in the interviews which we had
had his manner had not been quite satisfacto-
ry-not unkind, but so punctiliously polite, so
studiously so as to contradict our protested rcla-
tion.hip. ] had not sought to Interfere with
the course thing, were taking | had learned
| the futility of such attempts, and waited as
patiently as might be the eliminating point of
things and as / walked through the twilight,
comforted my heart with the reflection that
another nighttime would bring me to some
| greater knowledge suspense should then have
run its limit. AS crossed the main road into
my fathers grounds, | saw emerging from the
little woodland, of which have before written,
figure, indistinct in the shadows, but which,
as he came out into the open light recognis-
| cd as DR.. Roberts.
Ny heart was beating with kindly pulse to-
ward all the world and turned down the slope
in order to meet and converse with him. AS
VIC drew near each other, ] saw that he held in
his hand sprig of wild blue flowers, such as
he had once heard me admire, and that his
seeming was pensive melancholy.
He saw and recognised me, evidently, while
yet deep hollow divided us and as climbed
the opposite hill, | expected to meet him, but
| did not and when ! reached the summit, he
was nowhere to be seen. He had turned aside
| to avoid me-perhaps, in the vain hope that |
would be mortified and disappointed, for it il,
hard to believe the object of all our thoughts
| quite indifferent to us.
If had not been, / should have pursued my
| way as though chance or my own pleasure had
| brought me there but paused instead, and
having surveyed the surrounding scene, turned,
and retraccd my steps, and my thoughts went
| TO their accustomed channels
Ay, me! how we cheat ourselves to the last
| learning only when it is too late to avail our
| selves Of the knowledge, how small, how unm-
| portant we are that breath may drift US from
among the interests and habtations Of men,
and no visible discord.
When i reached the gate leading into the
door yard, stopped-thcrc was no need that
should go on to have my quest answered
everything before me answered it, Everything
| was out of joint and the little spasmodic ex-
ertions which ] had made sometimes such as
the pruning of shrub or the planting of
| fiowerbed, had all been discontinued. Strips
of plank and broken boards lay about, and
here and there a patch of yellow grass, the
| blades crooked down, and tender, showed their
removal from place to place, probably at the
caprice of DOke, who never averse to do
ing anything which was of no possible use
Limbs were broken and hanging dead from
the fruit trees about the yard, which ] attribu-
ted to his climbing propen.ities, and broken
crockery and old chairs and barrels were pro-
fuscly scattered, and the little shrubbcry had
been nearly browsed away, by horses and cat
tie, now and then turned into the yard, to Oh
viate the need of moving. A beautiful lilac.
near the door, was broken in and browsed down,
and garnished with dirty mop-rags.
Heaps of ashes lay about, and around and
between them stood pools of greasy water. Old
trowsers and vests, past all mortal use, were
taking the air on the clothes-line, and the pa
lings of the garden were topped with diapida
ted boots and shoes. recognised but one i'm
provement; a rude, unsightly shed had been
constructed in one corner Of the yard that
fronted the highway, straw-roofed, and partly
enclosed with rough boards, and therein Mar.
thas little COW was chanping pumpkins. Half
the windows of the house were broken. for il
was one of the employments of Doke to throw
stones. Some were patched with broken glass.
some with oiled paper, and some with pieces of
shingles. My father had done the best he could.
for | well knew his scanty means would i'll az
ford the requisite glass. Within doors. the as.
pect of things was little better as | entered.
Martha stood with her back toward me, count
ing her silver spoons, and was either so much
engaged as to be unconscious of nv entrance.
or so ill-humored as to pretend Inconsistencies.
for she kept counting on. Her drcs. was pin. |
ned and tucked up in a way that revealed a |
dirty and tattered petticoat; and .oiled white !
handkerchief, beneath which was a brown pa |
per, was bound about her head Hctty was |
in dark stuff dress, which might have become |
woman of sixty, was engaged in securing |
some rusty knitting -needlcs in ashes Doke Law |
in one corner, fast asleep his head pillowed on !