Eastern times., 1855-03-15
G9s Storp GtlIer.
A BEAUTIFUL STORY.


sweet memories that had slept in memory's
chambers! Our home was pearl of price
among homes not for its architectural ele-
gance, for it was only four gabled, brown
trees nor was its interior crowded with lux
uries that charm every sense and come from
every cline. Its furniture had grown old
with use, for we remember no other-and
though polished as highly as furniture could
be, by daily scrubbing, was somewhat the
worse for wear, il must be confessed. But
neither the house nor the furniture makes
the home; and the charm of ours Law in the
sympathy that linked the nine that called il
Home to one another. Father, mother, and
seven children-fve of them gay-hearted girls,
and two boys, Petted just enough to be spoiled
mot one link had ever dropped from the
chain of love, or one corroding drop fallen
upon its brightness.
Zone star differeth from another star in
glory even in the armament of home. Thus,
though we could not have told stranger
which sister or brother was the dearest, from
curly-headed boy who romped and rejoiced in
the appellation of baby given FIVE years be-
fore-still an observing eye would have sin
gled out Ellen as the sunbeam of our heaven,
the morning star of our constellation. She
was the second in age, but the first TO inherit
the load of responsibility, which in such a
household falls naturally upon the eldest
daughter. The eldest, as have said, was
ill from early girlhood, and Ellen had shoul-
'dered all her burden of care and kindness,
with light heart and lighter step. Up
stairs and down cellar-in the parlor, nur-
sery or kitchen-at the piano or the wash tub
with pen, pencil, needle or lace-sister Ell
len was always busy, always with a smile on
her cheek and a warble on her lip.
Quickly, happily, the months and the years
went by. We never realized that change
was 10 come over our band to be sure, when
mother would look in upon US, seated togeth-
er, with our books, painting and needIework,
and say in her gentle way, with only half
sigh, 'Ah, girls, you are living your happiest
daysr we would glance into each others
eyes, and wonder who would go first. But
it was wonder that passed away with the
hour, that ruffled not even the surface of our
sisterly hearts. 1t could not be always SO,
and the change came at last.
Sister Ellen was 10 be married
1t was like the crash of thunderbolt in
clear summer sky Sister Ellen-the fairy
of the hearthstone, the darling of every heart
which of US could spare herl Who had
been so presumptuous as TO find out her worth
For the first moment, this question burst from
each surprised, half angry sister of the blush
ing, fearful Ellen. 1t was only for mo-
meni our hearts told US that nobody could
help loving her, who looked through her lcv-
ing blue eyes into the clear well-spring of the
heart beneath. So we threw our arms around
her, and sobbed without a word
We knew very well tha; the young clergy
man whose Sunday sermons and gentle ad-
monitions had won all our hearts, had been
for months weekly visitor at our freside
circle. With baby George on his knee and
Georges brother and sisters clustered around
him, he had sat through many an evening,
charming hours away, until the clock startled
us with the unwelcome nine O'Clock warning,
and mothers softly spoken reminder, Girls,
it is bed time,' woke more than one stfed
sigh of regret Then sister Ellen must GO
with US TO lay George in his little bed, and
hear him and Annette repeat the evening
prayer and hymn, her lips had taught them
to comb the long brown braids of Emily's
head; to rob Arthur of his story book, and to
breathe kiss and blessing over the pillow
of each other sister, as she tucked the warn
blankets tenderly around them.
We did not know how OF late she had stol
en down again, from those ssterly duties
after our sisters were locked in sleeper i
our eyes and ears had been open to the fact
we could never have suspected the mnistel
10 have been guilty of such plot against oui
peace. That name was associated in ou
snind with all that was superhuman. Tht
gray haired pastor who had gone to his grave
six months previous, had sat as frequently il
our oaken-backed chair, and talked with us
We had loved him as a father and a friend
and had almost worshipped him as the EN-
bodlment of all attainable goodness. An,
when Mr.. Neville came among us, with hi
pale forehead, and soul-kindling eye, W
thought his also 'the face of an angel TO
glorious for the print of mortal passion es
pecially, after, in answer to an urgent cal
from the people among whom he was labor
ing, he had frankly told them his purpose wa
not to remain among them, or anywhere o
his native shore that he only waited III
guidance of Providence to home in foreig
cline.
After this much bewailed disclosure of h
plans, we placed our favorite preacher on
higher pinnacle of saintship.
But sister Ellen was TO be married-ms
ried to Mr.. Neville. Ah, then, sOh siste
you are going away to India Z burst from OF
lips with fresh gush of sobs.
was the first that looked up into Ellen
troubled face. It was heaving with emotis