Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1855-10-31

hMV1U6 hII6hATUMh.
From the Olive Branch.
THE WIDOW DAVIS MISTAKE. j
ny ELLEN HARLowE.
: "A pretty pass things have come to-, i'll
my daughter must be held upas alaughing
stock to the whole school, just because she
happened TO pout her lips at you! So you
sent for a looking glass, did you, and held
1t before her very face and eyes, for the
rest Of the brats TO make fun Of |? Let me
tell you, Miss Impudenee, you will pot do
II again; and TO speak my mind Of the
matter, you're no more fit for school
ma'am than child, with your smiles and
your delicate hands; why, you could no
more take cowhide and fog a boy, than
nothing at all, and the sooner we get rid
Of you the better. Mr.. Russell shall hear
Of this, promise you and he's too much
ofa gentleman, as we'll as too good Com
mittec man, to have my daughter abused
by such an upstart as you And the port
ly widow Davis sailed haughtily from the
school-room, slamming the door after her
till the walls shook again, by the way of
giving force to her elegant language.
There, she's got it now, soliloquized
the amiable lady, as she marched up the
street; my daughter laughed at ! but
I'll take good care that it isn't done again.
Mr.. Russel, poor dear man, will know
how to sympathize with me the thought
of his motherless children will tell him of
my suferings for my fatherless Susannah.'
And the disconsolate widow of Hezekiah
Davis actually brushed a tear away from
her eye, as she approached the door of her
pastors residence, where we will leave her
for time, while we take our way back to
the almost deserted school room.
viii it never, never end Am DOOM
cd to wear out my very life in this thank
less service for people who scarcely treat
me as a human being? murmured the
poor girl as she closed her desk, and cov-
ering her pale face with her thin, white
hands, she wept bitterly, hot, burning
tears, wrung gfrom'a warm and loving heart
a heart overHowing with affection for al
Gods creatures, and longing for sympathy
in turn but whose kindness had to(
often been chilled and frozen by the ute
selfshness, not to say cruelty, of those a
mong whom her lot was cast.
All If had but one friend to chez
me with a kindly smile, to speak words o
hope and encouragement, to bid me be patti
ent and not despair, methinks L could toll on
with cheerfulness in this difficult path
but alone, all, all alone--I could think i
were better to go home and starve, if neeC
be, with my dear'mother's arm about me
than to waste my best days in this inces
SAINT labor for few paltry dollars Heav
en- forbid that should murmur at my fate
but from my inmost soul, [ pray God t.
help those upon whose shoulders is laiC
the pinching hand of poverty; for, though
it be no sin in Ills sight to be poor, to
well has experience taught me that man
philosophy is quite another thing. kno7
ought to be thankful for the health an
strength that enable me to procure comfort
for those love. What if | could nC
work ? what if l were deprived of til
means of gaining few hundred dollars
year Oh, God forgive me for repining
aud the poor girl sank on her knees befo
her Maker, inmeellness and humility. 81
rose, calm and fearless. The dark sha
ow of dependency had passed away, gi
ing place to a smile of resignation al
peace and now for the first time she
came aware of the presence of a witne
to her tears. ... ... ..a
Why Charlie, Il thought you were sa
at home an hour ago., said she to
bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked little fellow, ,se;
cd quietly in a corner, his large orbs 9
zing on his teacher with plying EXPIRE
sion seen only in little children.
/ was waiting for you, Miss, Wilson
replied the child, 'and you looked so u
happy,I did not like to disturb you a
you unhappy, Miss Wilson, and is it /
cause great Hugh Kelly would, not
good this afternoon? | wish l was a ma
l would send Hugh off ever far, whe
he could never come back again. Y
wouldn't cry then, would you Miss w
son I? and the boy looked up inquiring
into the teachers face.
Never mind, Charlie, give me XII
and say good night now, she answerC
for if Hugh is a bad boy, you will alws
be good
To be sure | WILL he replied, Il
will you walk home with me tonight
My father says we must be very kind
all who are unhappy, and he win not
ugly things to you, as Susy Davis motl
did come, Miss Wilson, we never cry
home ? and the little fellow pulled
gently by the hand, as if to enforce his
quest.
Not this evening, DEAR was the
swer, and with another kiss the teacl
bade him again good night, and wenC
her way slowly towards her abode.
Fanny Wilson was, naturally, one
those happy, fairy-like beings, all sunsh
and song, whose presence in this, VIC
Of woe,' goes far to render it a home
happiness. Looking back into the drea
years of childhood, she found there abri
spot Of unclouded loveliness, one of tn
dreams Of the past, that linger fore
around the life Of the dreamer. This sw
oasis in the desert of years through VIII
she had passed, was her first home. Il
we'll she remembered the moss-covered ]
of the ancient farm house, over the I
panes of whose quaint old windows,
sweet briar and jasmine clambered in
uriant abundance, and the gay gard
bright with the beanty of its many flow
and fragrant with the breath of sV
scented herbs.
There were the stately elms with Il
gracefully waving bOughs, the tall pop