Tribune and telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1855-1856, 1855-11-15
From the Knickerboeker Magazine.
The Portrait.
BY L. A. RANDALL.

BY L. A. RANDALL.
! 1t was an old street, such as you would hard
ly expect to find in the corporation bounds of q
city of such comparatively modern growth as
| New York. So narrow and dim was it, that the
venerable houses tall and skeleton like, seemed
{. leaning forward towards one another, as if fol-
support, and the tufts of grass and clusters Of
yellow dandelions growing between the crooked
and sunken bricks of the pavement, caught
scarcely glimpse of the glad sun shine that
played over all else, in its prodga luxuriance OF
May brightness.
/ The city seemed absolutely to have grown
away from this ancient quarter. What consan-
guinity co@ld it claim with all the stately aven-
ues and widely paved streets that stretched far
away to the westw ardl Dim and silent and an
tiquated it stood, like some aged person bent and
! hoary with years, whom death and decay seem
to have passed by and forgotten long ago. Now
and then rafting cart clattered through its
lonely precincts, as if bewildered to find itself
there, and eager to get clear of the unaecustom-
ed neighborhood The very echoes, driven from
the busting marts of life and activity, sought
refuge amid these wierd looking old buildings,
and wandered, like homeless spirits through
| this lonely and dream-ike monument ofthe past
| But on this particular May morning there was
a slight degree more hustle and animation than
usual around certain old house. which was
more respectable to outward view than its ruin
Gus brethren, and seemed to retain the most
/ thread-bare pretence and miserable gentility of
all the street. Every morning, as regularly as
| the first sunbeamS sianted across the hoary roof
the staid looking maid servant came forth to pol
| ish the brass door-handle until it shone again,
and to sweep the dust from the rusty grass be-
fore the steps; and the solitary cat sat blinking
behind the narrow window panes, which always
gIittered with housewifeiy care, although the
heavy curtains of faded tapestry shut out all
oliu of ha ttya old 40, h.
the prm servant woman, were the only lnhabi-
| tants of the domicii
The hustle was satisfactorily explained by a
| faring red flag which hung from one of the up.
per windows, and by the loud and ceaseess din
| of the well known auction bell, borne up and
down the street by one of Mis- myrmi-
| dons. The old oak panelcd door was gaping
wide on casual passers by: the rooms were one
and all thrown open, and the vulgar gaze of Gu
rlosity revelled at will on the long silent and Sc
cluded domains Of those two stately, gray haired
old women.
was one of the first corners, induced thereto
by long friendship which had subsisted be-
tween my mother and these ladies. knew very
well the cause of these unfortunate proceedings
which had long been dreaded, both by the Miss
! Haynes and their constant friend my kind moth
err Years and years ago they had held their
rank among the aristocrats of society, but for
tune had deserted them in latter times, and
lnchds grown cold Their only brother had run
largely IN debt to purchase shares in some tempt
ing bubble, whose bursting reduced them all to
the lowest circumstances. Henry Haynes died,
full OF remorse and sorrow from thus having
ruined his poor sisters, and left them cnci mber-
ed with heavy debt What with accommodating
interest and long neglect this incubus had in
creased tear fully in the few years that had e.
iapsed since their brothers. death, and now in
the dreary autumn time of their lives Harriet and
Carissa Haynes saw no alternative but the sad
one OF dsposing of their all, and even this expe-
dent would not suffice to hquidate that haunt
ing debt that sat OH their hearth stone by day,
and lowered over their pillows by night, like
some evil spirit. Harrasscd by their importu-
nate old creditor, agonizcd by the consciousness
of heir complete hcipleSsness, what else could
these poor ladies' do!
| found but a few minutes to whisper sympa-
thizing and consoiing words to my friends, ere
the rooms began to fill with spectators. Some
came in from curiosity, some because they hap
pcned 10 be passing at that moment, but most
because they really wished to purchase, hoped
to ind things cheaper in such an oid-tashioned
ard secluded place.
! And CHI. how sadly elegant, how miserably
stately were all these relics of long ago! The
faded curtains, the stiff backed, uneasy chairs
cushioned with ancient embroidery, wherein the
| yeilOws soiled white and the crimson d
muddy purple, 10 coiors retaining their original
/
worm eaten frames! An old piano, with long,
spiudIing legs and deliberately carved case stood
/ in a corner. 1t was open, displaying the mar
row bank of yellow keys and pile OF discolored
and venerable music such as grandmothers
used TO sing III the days of lang syne. The
carefully mendcd carpets, in which the dim fig
ures were indistinguishabie from the dull, brown
ground; the quaint old vases, from whose convo-
buttons peeped forth grinning apes and satyrs,
and beautiful childrens faces filled with faded
immoreite, whose white and purple globes were
yearly renewed from the narrow garden plot be-
hind the house; the wrought rug, with its bor-
der of stiff roses, over which had achcd and
smarted many pair of eyes, now mingled with
The dust; all these things seemed to convey one
backWa ard to the dim echoes of a former genera
ton.
But the one object that caught my eye most
in the low ceiled room, Boosting the title of par
lor, was a portrait hanging over the fire place:
a beautiful young female head, crowned with
ringets of play gold, and with deep liquid hazel
eyes--that rare and peculiar combination OF col,
ors which artists seldom see, and always find
SO exquisite. Old Time had spread dull brown
tint over the whole, but he could not hide the
bloonty roses in the dinipled cheeks, nor the sun
nv shadows of the bright hair The face looked
out from the black canvas as fresh and lovely as
a peep of blue sky smiling between gray storm
clouds have seen this picture and reyelled IN
its exceeding beauty, many and many Anlc De-
fore | knew that it was the hkncss of poor
Miss Clarissa's youngest sister, who had died
long ago, and it shocked me beyond description
to see it hanging up among the other things, as
if for sale.
% Miss Harriet said /, turning to the sister
who stood beside me with fearful eyes, you are
not going to have poor Ellinor's picture sold9
4 must my child said Miss Harriet with 8
fresh burst of tears; odd Mr.. Whtleigh is hare
and cruel CREDITOR he says all the house contain;
will not satisfy his debt, and We have not thi
mower to reserve single article | had rather
lose every thing else than the poor babies I'M
age Is it not lovely my dear! Hush! don ,
let Clarssa ou looking at it, or she Will rear
her heart. Oh! il is hard, hard thing: oh'
drew her hand across her eyes and wen, on
And that is her piano. too. Al. yellow ahC
old as il looks now, il was fine instrument whei
Ellinor was sixteen; my father was so proud o
her beautiful singing: it sounded like bird II
the green woods. Pianos were costly enough IL
/, those days, and people wondered that Henri.
went TO such an expense for her; but we were
rich then, and thought nothing could be to goot
for such pretty young thing as Ellinor. There
all the music she used to plRyi IT must be solo
every sheet of it. We used to sit in the old gar
den, years before it was all built up around, ant
listen to her playing; father used to say it wa
IL. I iranSt ~ af