The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1854-09-09
From Pataom's Nagncins for September.
MY HUSBANDS MOTHER.

From PMHom's N"ga-iRe for September.
MY HUSBANDS MOTHER.
1t was the morning after IIclcn's wedding,
and as | stood in the large parors, now so
still and breathlcss. where only the evening
before, merry words and light laughter had
re-cchoed, began to realize tha: Helen had
gone.
threw mySelfon a sofa near the conserva-
tory the wind, laden with sweet perfume,
swept over my cheek as pulled the cushions
into shape, and, assuming an easy position,
prepared to indulge in favoritc amusement
of mine-day- dreaming.
NV thoughts reverted to the distant past,
and the scenes of my childhood came wildly
before me.
seemed to see my own quiet homc-my
gentle mother beading over her sewing, as
she was wont to do from early morn to the
late evening, ever cheerful, ever busy until
she sickcned and died.
That dcath-bcd. How we'll remember
cd it!
Her last fond embrace and her fast falling
tears, as she lay on the lowly bed, her thin
hand resting on the white countcrpane, and
the white curtains blowing out gently into
the room. tanning her pale check
Good Mrs Evans stood bv the bedside
weeping bitterly and rcitcrating her promise
to follow the directions Of nv mother con-
ccrning me. only comprchcndcd that my
mother was to leave me. and clung to her
hand, looking at her wondcringly.
How could know that she was to die !?
had seen her sick so many times and knew
so little what death was,
| watched her as she brcathcd fainter and
fainter, her ewes all the while fixed on me
with loving expression that can never for
get.
I'll, avcnly Father" she brcathcd, 'to thee
| commit my child" Her clasp of my hand
tightcncd then relaxed and all was over
Again thought OF the time when had first
entered these rooms. contrasting 50 strongly
with the low walls and simple furniture q. nv
cot.arc-home. that almost ,lazzlci and knew
not which to admire most. the lady dressed III
liz silks and laceS, to whom | was presented.
or the clecanccS that surrounded her.
: | was half afraid my amt. till She cla>pc1
me in her warm embrace. half smothcrinr me-
in her enormous sleeves as She pressed me in
her arms.
believe she would have wcp. over me. but
unfortunately. rs she held me off to look at
me, my long hair having cot cntanrlcd in
any number OF chains which depended from,
her neck. my Mortified expression was so far
removed from anything pathetic, that she
burst into fit of laughter |, for my part
felt more inclined to cry. rs m, uncle who
stood by came to the rescue : at lenctl,. with
the aid OF scissors. was separated from my
aunt with the loss of a little Of my abundant
hair and 1oubt not since | have known
her better. of very pretty little speech of
welcome also which she had prepared to de
liver.
Good Mrs. Evans, who had brought me tc
Boston, was treated with every possible at
tcntior, and on parting with me the next DAY
rs she was to return to her home. assured me
that l''waS in good hands, for nv aunt's folk
was the incest folks that ever was"
was soon fairly settled, and my sadness
whichllal determined never TO vet oycrfccl
inc As any cessation of rvict denoted lack
Of affection for my mother. gradually vanish
ell Lciorc the bright smiles and merry ella
of my 'orr consinS. The two older ones h,v
inr finished ,hcir education. had rem, out
and parties. rides and other amu~cmcnts fol
lowed each other in quick succession.
Marie, Helen and were still school-cir
but vet aunt Mcclellan allowed us to ioin oc
ca>ionallv in rides, and to make our appear
ancc at small social parties. which we cniovc,
mos: heartily.
Our house was always tllrongcd with com
panv. and my aunt herself was the lii,. Of GA
parties ofpIcasnrc
Nv uncle a >tuliouS and reserved man
passed most OF his time in his study, aud $,
long as he was allowed to remain in unhi>
turbed possession Of that room. cared littl
how his family spent their time, ifthcy wcr
only happy
50 wears passed on and no shallow dir,mc,
the sunshine of that happy household til
death entered
Ny uncle, after a short and severe illness
died
My aunt was inconsolabc: in fact. we wcr
all overwhelmed with grief Death we knc,
must come 70 all, but We had never drcamc1
that it would come 50 soon, so suddenly. an,
that my uncle, in the pride Of manly viccl
, must 90 down to the narrow crave
We felt at first as people ALWAYS do. that w
could never be happy again. We mournc'
for my uncle sincerely. but vet two years ha'
hardly passed before the old homestead wa
as gay as ever.
The death Of NV uncle had brought t
light the fact that we were no longer wealthy
My aunts large fortune had melted, TO ON
: knew how or where, bat it had gone. w
were poor.
| do not know what my aunt would hav
dcne. if singing poverty had come upon Us
for she realized nothing of its evils. and tn
announcement OF the fact Of her situation di'
not trouble her in the least she was spare,
the painful task Of cndcavoring to satisfy cx
pcnsivc habits with Inadequate means; 70
an old uncle settled upon her an annuity 70
, her lifetime.
Upon this, she lived Just as ever, gratifv
ing every present wish, with but one though
for the future.
The loss OF her property seemed to hav,
produced but one result: that of making he
: anxious to settle her daughters well in mar
riagc, and very soon both Charlotte and Liz
zic were disposed of. Both married wealth,
men-both made ''good matches" as they arr
called.
This was somewhat to our surprise: fo
Charlotte had nothing but her never-faiin.
good humor to attract; for she was positivel,
plain; vet her husband was considered one
of the greatest catches" in town.
Lizzie was very talented, and had alway
treated the common herd as quite bencatl
her notice; yet she married a silly fellow
with nothing but his good looks and hi
wealth to recommend him; what was strang