Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1854-11-08
Cbaitt 4ittratnre.
THE DOVE OF THE STORM
BY DORA M'NEILLE.

Gently and quietly the night folded his
wing over pleasant home among the Green
Mountains, where happy circle were gath
cred round blazing FIRE Of maple wood
IL was one of those old fashioned home
steals Of which every one has bright ideal
tall trees bent over it as if to shelter the
young hearts that beat happily under that
root, aud peacefully, even as the birds that
sung 20 them through the long summer
days, dwelt the little monntaineers in their
eeela'ied bone Their. paeepts bad now.
been absent week on visit to friends at
a distance, though it was mid-winter, and
the broad evergreen forests were thickly
covered with snow. They were not the
people who spend in pleasure the loveliest
season God has given US, for little thought
could they take Of journeying for amuse
ment when the rich fruit and waving grain
was ripening fast for them to gather.
IL was the farmers season for fitting
now the harvest moon had long since
waned, aud left rich stores in barn and gra-
nary. There were stalwart boys to leave
at home, who knew right well what care
was ueedful and the parents had not
feared to leave the little baud alone with
out any protection but their own innocence,
and the care Of Him in whom they trusted.
Trained as they had been to brave all
storm and danger, caring lightly for either,
the hardy children had enjoyed the inde-
pendence of being left to taking care of
themselves as James Graham had ex-
pressed it, and now they were recounting
all the home duties they had performed,
for the absent ones we're expected home that
night, aud each little heart beat happily in
the Consciousness Of having done right.
Well, said james, | guess father don't
expect TO find the corn all husked, when he
gets home
No, nor the old shed all boarded up so
nicely said Richard.
What have you got to tell father, An
ME Z said james TO a little gentle creature,
who looked like white morning glory with
blue eyes.
Oh, l shall tell how good we've all
been, and how helped you feed the lambs
every day
You'll tell him we've been good, too,
won't you, cousin Marian asked Richard,
for the roguish boy began to remember GER
tain instances of his teasing and fun which
he thought might not sound very well in
the account.
A gay and brilliant girl was cousin Ma
rian, who had escaped from the dull res-
lsaint Of city iile 45fs llttle WINE rt0cnJ0y
the freedom she loved. Oh, it was strange
how she could leave a sphere of gayety
and fashion, where she vas the brightest
star, TO sit on that old stone hearth in the
farmers kitchen, to crack butternuts or
help pare apples till her little white hands
looked black enongh but she did love it,
and dearly they all loved her, she was so
gifted aud so kind, so winning to all; and
then, as James said, she was first-rate
hand at making candy and popping corn.
But Marian Norville was not genteel, IN
deed she wasn't; for she had rather play
the romping games Of the country girls, OIL
coast with james Graham, of moonlight
night, than dance the bewitching polka il
her splendid city home and why shoulC
she not for the shadows Of old bending
trees tremble on the frozen lake, and tn
moon shines brighter there than gas-ligh
does in a crowded room, on beauty whic
God did not make. Perhaps, too, Maria
had holier thoughts than of mere enjo,
ment, for every uight she had gathered th
children round her, and with them repcate
prayer so earnest in its few simple word
that their young eyes closed reverently {
they knelt, all her mirth and gayety were f
few moments forgotten.
Now as she sat on u rude, low seat, vii
Auuie's sweet face resting in her lap, Il
glowing fire. light lit up her face with Il
truest gladness, as she answered Richard
Yes, coz, you've been good almost 4
the time, but .....
While she was speaking the whole gror
was startled by low distinct rapping
the window pane, and there, with its viii
breast close against the glass, was a trem
ling dove, picking the frost-covered windo
as if it plead for shelter amid the drivi
storm. All the children ran eagerly to t
door, aud Richard laid the dove gently a
carefully in Marians hand The flick,
ing light Of the candle shone far out on t
lonely road, and dimly showed two fgul
all wreathed in the falling snow. 1t "
unusual in that lonely place to see stra
gers passing thus at night, and the eV
restless Richard exclaimed
you carry in the dove and warmit, a
will run out aud see who they are'
Beautiful looked that half frozen dove
the kind ones who had rescued it. Al
nestled close in Marian's bosom, there '
CLEAN in its opening eyes that seemed
most human, so earnestly it told of gr
tude and content They all smoothed
ruffied white plumes caressingly, talking
the while to 'Dovie, as if it knew Il
meaning.
Those folks were beggars, and wal
that VIC should keep em over night, b
told 'em, as father always does, that ev
town took care Of its own poor, and if I
stayed at home they needn't suffer
dWho were they how did they 10
where did they come FROM 2 inquired
all at once.
lOh, they looked bad enough; t
was an old man, and a girl As big as
rian, aud they came from some place d
below that never heard of before.
old coEger said he was going to set
brother up north, but / guess he mad
that story
why, Dick, / didn't think you'd
of an old man and poor shivering
IN such q night as this;' and as J