The weekly Lancaster gazette. (Lancaster, Ohio) 1852-1855, 1854-12-14
ELIZABETH BELL,
A Thanksgiving story.
BY MAY MEADOWS.

Ina valley, among the mountains of
Vermont, the lights of the little village OF
N--twinkled brightly in the clear at
mosphere. The moon, just ris,n,was filling
the valley with glory. The church spires
glistened like Furnished silver, while the
roofs ofthe dwellings,, the trees, tho walls
and fences, with their burden of snow,
shone like crystal.
1t was the night preceding the annual
festival, when each one turns from his de-
vious way, to re-unite once more in love
feast, beneath the paternal roof. The Jing-
lingof sleigh-bells and the tread of horses
feet on the crusty snow, were pleasant
sounds, but pleasanter still the cracking
of blazing logs, that cleaned through the
opening doors, and the cheerful laugh, the
merry greeting, as one after another the
vacant seats were filed beside each hearth
stone. t a.
The family of Dudley Carleton were
gathered around tho fire, thoughtful and
Silent. The venerable old man, with a
head white as the beautiful frost-work that
pictured window-p -panes, leaned back in
his arm chair, and seemed watching the
long, Pickering shadows, dancing on the
wall. Near him sat his wife-his wife of
almost fifty years; her once black hair, now
thickly sprinkled with silver, lay smoothly
beneath snowy cap, while her gentle eyes
rested OH a rosy cheek--rosy with health
and the warmth Of the bright blaze, whose
fellow nestled among the soft folds of her
dress.
The room was still save the musical click
of the knitting needles, which her fingers
bpsily piled low breathing of tho
child, and the swapping and simmering Of
the fragrant and unctious wood. On the
opposite side, Elizabeth Bell, an orphan
but loved as daughter, was setting the
last Stitches in frock of bright colors, for
the littlo dreamer on his grandmother's
knee Ever and anon Elizabeth lifted her
eyes to the old mans face, and again they
dropped and fell sadly. Sorrow was there
not the wild, trimultuous sorrow tho
1nouPner feels, when the first clod of earth
is cast on the bosom of his best beloved
but settled, silent sorrow, which time
cannot alleviate grief not for the dead,
but the living, The cords Of their hearts
were too tightly strung for words-they
might break in tears
& The old mans eyes rested on the clock,
as 1t struck the hour of family worship,
and then turned towards Elizabeth. Lay
ing aside her work, she drew the Bible to-
wards her and opened to a faded ribbon,
which had marked their daily reading for
many years, while the aged woman folded
away her polished needles and aroused the
sleeping child by gentle kiss. Then the
sweet voice Of Elizabeth commenced read
ing the thirty-fourth psalm. Itgrcw tremu-
lous toward the close, and as she finished
the eighteenth and nineteenth verses
The Lord isnigh unto them that are of
a broken heart; and sayeth such as be of a
contrite spirit
Many are the Affections of the.rightoous;
but the Lord delivereth him. out of them
ALL" and failed here entirely The old
man, withclosed eyes, continued
''He keepeth all his bones; not one of
them is broken.i For moment he hesita-
ted, then repeated in a low voice. but un-
shaken ,uo fsa
evil shall slay the wicked. and they
that hate the righteous shall be deso1ate. ~