True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1855-03-22
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From the Waverly Magazine
TWO SIDES OF LIES PATHWAY.
BY AMANDA M. DOUGLASS.
ss CHAPTER II.
- CONTINUED
He who for love has undergone
The worst that can befal,
IL happier, thousand fold than one
Who never loved at all.
A grace within his heart has reigned,
That nothing else can bring:
Thank God Cor all that have gained
BY that high suffering"
DAYS wove weeks, weeks were busy
twining months, and long, weary months
shadowed themselves into years, and yet
Allan Everard, with his fair boy, dwelt at
Rosedell. The cottage was the same;
every Spring the vines were trained anew
the garden walks ornamented with brill
liant Aowers-every thing without present
ed the same aspect as when its owner first
came; and within, to an unpractised eye,
there was no change. Stranger hands
kept the white curtain pure, and free from
soil-stranger hande adorned the child,
and the same ese and quiet elegance was
discernable M>all. Each morning the va
ses were filed with fresh floral offerings;
eacL evening there went up sweet hymn
of praise to the glorious Giver of life and
ulnumbered blessings, and yet in the
hearts deep recesses there was fearful
blank.
Sunday came, with its lain for the
world-wouaded spirit-with its zephyr-ike
stiffness, and gently tolling bell, bringing
hours of blessed rest, and then, hand in
hand, walked Allan Everard and his child
to the village church. There was one
wanting beside them-thcre was vacant
seat in the pew; there was an unopened
hymn book, whose rich, golden clasps bore
the name of "Lucy Everard )" and theil
hearts inwardly fingered for a liquid, mel
ting tone to rise with them in triumphant
praise, or gently sink in prayer-one whose
image time could not obliterate, nor alb
sence mar-forgottcn, and yet held il
memory.
And if possible, it was felt still more
acutely at home. There was an ever lin
gering for the look, the smile, and tn,
words that came in melody in former day.
"a feeling of anxious expectation ant
hope deferred, that the heart experienced
but would not own There were time
when the father painfully longed to hea
his child's lips utter "mother" once more
as if to break the heavy stiffness that un
consciously hung round his heart Their
were times when the boys young broN
grew thoughtful, and his lips quivered i
intense emotion but thoughts died er
ntterance gave them birth. He neithe
wished nor asked for her, but clung close
to his father, as if in that love he woul
drown all thoughts of his early bereave
ment.
The villagers remembered when he ha
first brought the fair face and fragile forl
Other he called his wife, among them
and when they gazed upon her fair chill
they whispered, "Such as him were n,
fer this world" but they spoke not HI
name in his presence.
Four years since, the football of Luc
Everard had echoed at Rosedell, and Il
boy Of half dozen summers had numbe
cd nearly half score. He had been bir
flower and sunshine, concentrated in h
fathers path. He had roamed the dee
woods, read from the same book, slel
upon his bosom, prayed at his knee, an
shared alone and undivided, loves for
caress, until father and child had, as
were, grown into one life.
The hand of God was laid heavily
Allan Eyerard. Had he seen his Gotta
home despoiled-the spot SO sacred
memory made a haunt for decay, and Il
owlet's scream falling ftfully on the still
air-had he been stripped Of all his wcaltl
or doomed to racking pains, all this
could have borne cheerfully. Ali
would have thought it but light to toll d
by day for bread, to save his child frc
hunger-bome any priyation gladly,
have saved his boy one pang.
There was an unseen hand cutting
flbrcs of his heart asundcr. Not the on