The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1854-10-05

The farmer Tloughing on the next hillside re
minded me that one COWS and another reaps-
the birds, flying out of sight, Of that bourne
whence no traveller returns.
The woods had lost the fresh greenness of
GUNNER, and here and there limb, b,ood-red
or deeply yellow, told of the more melancholy
days to come. The red stubble of the buck
wheat, and tho white stubble of the rye, made
dry and level strips along the billsides, and the
meadows looked faded and brown. The very
cattle stood in fence corners, switching their
tails, and hooking the air In sullen dissatisfac-
ton with iife-the bees had made their honey,
and droned idly about the hive--the winds
were beginning their harvest work among nuts
and apples, preparatory to natures pause.
1t seemed that the lessons would never be
done and the school dismissed for noon, but it
was at last, and whooping and calling ran the
freed urchins toward their accustomed play
grounds. | could not join in any sports, nor
read as was my wont, in the shade; would 60
to the house of Lucrstia and bring her to
school, for would not suffer myself to think
she was too i'll to be there.
had crossed two patches of stubble land,
and gone down q slope red with briers, and
was come into hollow greener than the
meadows around for so my path led, when the
attention. After q moments listening, dis
covered that it was perched low in the hollow,
probably in one of the thorn trees that stood
by the brook eide-for brook, fed by never
failing spring in the woods beyond was tink-
ling, like April waters, below me- Why
should have done So know not; but turned
aside from the path, worn bare along the sod
by the feet Of my missing school mate, and
having gained the brooks bank, and assembled
little knoll, | saw, seated beneath thorn
tree at its base, and apparently listening to
the bird that sung IN its boughs, she of whom
was in search. stood still moment, afraid
to scare the bird by my approach, and half
reluctant to disturb the repose of Lucretia
She had evidently paused there on her way to
school, for her hood and books and satchel lay
on the ground. Her head was leaned on the
trunk of the tree, and the soft water was rip
pling across her bare feet. A sudden flaw Of
wind blew the curls about her face, and when
her hands were not lifted to put them aside,
thought she was asleep.
"Lucretia ~ called, but she did not an
swer, nor turn toward me. Louder | repeated
my call, but she did not hear me; and, going
close, bent down, and, putting back her hair,
kissed her forehead. She was indeed asleep.
There was smile on her lips, and could not
help thinking her last thoughts had been OF
Charley.
Two days and then came the funeral What
amournful time it was The cofin was placed
on the bench where the deceased had been ac-
customed to study her lessons, and willow
boughs were hung against the wall above.
The window through which she had looked so
earnestly and so long was open, and the south
wind came 10, signing in sympathy with us.
The house was swept clean, and the books
were all laid aside, and, seated around in their
clean, coarse garments, the frightened rustics,
for the first time in their lives, studied the mys
terry of death. No mourning robes darkened
the house, for she had left none to whom she
was connected by ties of blood, to weep for
her. AS withercd blossom drops from
branch, full of bright ones, almost unnoticed,
30 she fell.
REMAINDER OF CHAP. vi. NEXT WEEK,