Plymouth banner. (Plymouth, Marshall County, Ind.) 1852-1855, 1854-04-13

!
mist, with fire inside that gave no light
though it burned always. how long do
not know. for have forgotten the years,
passed from my brain; and though it set
ties upon me yet, some times, il is not so
bleak as it was, and when l go to think
that fire does 30. burn. Ny old home.
our old home, for saw you when babe.
Mary, does not seem so awfully distant
as once. Ii appeared to belong TO anoth-
er world, and mountains Of fire and oceans
Of blood were lifted and rolling between
it and myself. can think of it now
without flame before my eyes. These
tears have washed my sight, and can see
the three oak trees, and oil the helds nnd
fences. the woods and waters-yes and
the barn yard fowls aid the cattle and
horses. | had friends that loved me and
that loved, among The poor brutes.
never will see them again | know. When
did not remember my childhood's home,
had not forgotten the City. is churches
and towers, and lis streets which | best
knew were with me always a hateful,
splendid sight. Yet remember some
of its richness, and tho luxuries OF the
home had there. left them and found
myself in the Wilderness, with only the
recollection of passing home, to fill the
void of time and space between.
From listening TO you and Patsy, | learn
ed that my father and mother were yet
alive and far from our Old home. l have
n longing TO see them, and then want to
die. and | will. They need not know me.
will not go to the house with you. Leave
me in The woods. will 60 at night aid
look through the window at them as they
sit by the fire-look at them all night as
they sit there and then CO.
But then Mary tod her OF the great
hungering other parents TO see her, and
The Joy with which she would be welcom-
ed. And Sallie, rising to her feet, survey
ed her person with q melancholy stare
looked at her bsny hands and savage gar
menis. and taking up some locks of her
long hair, regarded that and ran her I'm
gers through its tangled wealth. Then
she hurried 10 the rivuet which ran from
the near spring and finding little pool,
flung herself upon the ground and scru'l-
nized her features as reflected there, with
somber earnestness. The contrast be-
tween her sunken eve wilhered lips and
cheeks, and bony brow. oyershadewed by
shaggy. black hai-, and the old recoilec-
| ton Of her face. as seen in nnoiher MIR
ror, was dreadful; and that black noun
tain of mist. with interior burnlngs. which
had oppressed reason in horrible eclipse
so long, seemed on the point OF rolling
back to usurp forever its ancient domain.
Her agony was keen, but though border
inS upon that intensity which brings delft
i'm. was conqueruble, and she triumrhed
the desire OF her heart to see her parents
gave the victory.
She knew we'll tha, her life was wasted,
and that her limbs would be refreshed and
her brain cooled, but in The dampness OF
the grave. Yet fortunately for her, the
sharpest sting of misfortune was blunied
in that she had lived so long in compare
tive loneliness, where her thoughts though
broken, vague and wandering, were, with
her affections, unrestrained. and she had
been allowed 10 love her son without hear
ing the Kisses of the world, and bearing
lis contumely-that she was not alive 10
the scathing remorse and burning bitter
ness of self. condemnation, which had
made her maniac and savage. The siroc
of passion had spent its fury on her head,
and like a lightning blasted tree. stricken
to the heart by the bolt of heaven, ami
stripped of its leaves and twigs by The
storm, she stood desolate but invulnerable,
and unconcerned rs 10 the coming OF The
final whether the winds were TIA
ken with balm or poison. with the Ira
GRANGE of flowers of sulphurous smoke,
was indifferent.
On huge roo. Of the elm in the hol-
low of which they had made their tempo
rary home, as the afternoon sun was pour
ing its golden. glorious light thraugh the
oldcn woods, sat Patsy and Mary, talking
in ,ha, whispered tone girls love SO well.
'She is my los, sister. of whom you
have heard me speak so often, said Mary.
sit is as strange rs any story OF these
woods the hunters tell. And she is my
sister,
sAnd he is your cousin'
Yes. O. if we get back, father and
mother will be happy--so happy. il they
live. o, my dear father and mother, how
DO they do?'
How dreadful it must have been for
them TO know we were taken by the In
dians! 1t was almost as sorrowful 10 them
as if we had died If they had buried US.
they could have visited our graves, but
now they can't tell where on the earth we
are. o, we must hurry back to them;
and how close we will stay by them
we never will 60 out Of the station If we
get into it once more.'
Richard slept until almost dark. When
he emerged from the tree. rubbed open
his eyes and stretched his limbs, the sun
light was fading even from the tops Of the
,alest trees, aud only the oaks on the
hill met fully the sofiened fire Of the day
gods glance.
1t was necessary to find game for food
and surprised and little vexed that he
had slept so long, Richard took his rifle
and looked about to bring down some ami
NAL in whose death he might find the means
of life. Game was abundant, and before
dark, he had killed turkey and buck, and
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