Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1855-04-18
MISCE LII Al Y.
From the Southern Literary Messenger.
SHADE AND SUNSHINE.
BY AUGUSTA GREENWOOD.
CH 4 Z Elk IF,
"Passing away

conv versatiUn with her father, but feeling at length
that it was selfish to be thus wholly engrossed
with her own thoughts, she now began to make
more particular enquiries about her home, and o.
all that had occurred during her absence. She
learned 10 her great distress, and what her father
had Hitherto tenderly concealed from her, that hel
mother, whose health had always been delicate
was evidently rapidly declining. 1t cost much
pain TO communicate these sad tidings, but Mr.
Eastland felt that it would be but mistaken kind
ness, only to postpone till the hour of meeting
the shack that he well knew his wife's altered
appearance would occasion her affectionate daugh
| ter.
Sadly and quietly they pursued the remainder
of their journey, and Anna was soon sobbing OF
the bosom of her beloved mother, who had now
become too feeble TO leave her room.
The bamy genial air of spring, however, 81
much revived the invalid, that her fond friend.
almost flattered themselves that she might still bt
spared many years to them In this hope Anna
and her father began Immediately to make prepa
rations for summer tour to the Virginia Springs
trusting that the trip would aid much to facilitate
Mrs. Eastland's restoration.
Since her return from the city. Anna had beer
so entirely absorbed with her suffering parent
that she had found very little time for turning hel
thoughts and attention to other things She anc
Alice had occasionally exchanged letters, bu
Alce's epstes were rather unsatlsiactory-flleC
for the most part with descriptions Of dress, beaux
and the numerous parties aud places of amuse
ment she was attending. Ernest she never men
toned and Anna almost despared of ever hear
ing anything concerning him. or the hastily writ
ten note she had left in Alice's keeping. With
| eha loft homo fnr tho wa.
tering places in the western part Of the State,
where, finding that Mrs. Easiland improved be-
yond their most sanguine expectations, they tar
ried most of the summer.
Upon their return late in the month of Sepem-
ber, she found letter from Alice awaiting her
which had arrived several weeks before. 1t was
long. giving more general information than usual
Ii told of her berolhal to Mr.. Danvers-of the
many handsome presents her wealthy lover had
already made her. and of the visions of splendoi
she was indulging for the future. Frederick
Warner had married Kate Sutherland, ont of pure
spite she believed-and it was said each had been
sadly disa ppointed in the wealth of the other
Then the heartless girl told how poor Fred was
giving himself up to dissipation, and how much
she congratulated herself upon her own fortunate
escape Ernest Wentworth had gone to Europe
The letter closed by begging that Anna would
officiate as bridemad at her nuptlals, which II
had been arranged were to take place in the fall
Anna was much surprised at the various con-
tents of this letter, and not a little so at Ernests
departure on foreign tour. True she had often
| heard him express wish. or intention to travel
through Europe. but had not supposed he would
uo so soon And now she felt more and more al
a loss to account for his strange silence towards
herself
| As the autumn advanced Mrs. Eastland again
evinced symptoms of debility and disease, and il
was soon evident to her friends. that their fears
had only been luled by one of those flattering
resptes with which consumption so often deludes
its victims. She seemed passing away from them
calmly and peacefully
GAS fades a summer cloud away,
As sinks the gale when storms are o'cr,
As gently shuts the eye OF day,
As dies wave along the shore"
And at the close of a chill November day, when
another letter arrived from Alice, begging her
Cousins presence at her wedding the ensuing
week, it found her watching beside the couch OF
her dying mother.
The last sad rites of the solemn funeral were
performed, and Anna and her father were left a.
lone in their desolate home, from which The purest
lipht of domestic love was to them; forever exin-
guished.
She endeavored to control and subdue her own
distress. that she might be better enabled to com
fort and soothe the deep grief of her sorrowing
parent settled melancholy seemed to have o.
vercast his spirit. And it was now that she felt
the power of that strengthening and sustaining
religion which had been early inculcated by her
who was gone; and of which Anna and her ia
ther had short time previous made profession.
They were not left comforlless, for he who is
..stronghold in time of trouble" was with them.
A few months after Mrs. Eastland's death,
Annals father called her to his bedside, telling
her that she must now be the companion of his
cares. He informed her that he had on that
morning received letter from her uncle, who
was suddenly involved in great pecuuary distress,
and now asked his assistance that this was not
the first time such demand had been made:
and Mr.. Eas,land now disclosed to her amaze
ment. that he believed his brother to be irreriev-
ably in debt, and that he, himself, had not only
frequently lent him considerable sums of money,
but had also become his security for large "a
mount.
Mr.. Eastland and his daughter conversed long
upon the subject, and although it panied him to
come to such conclusion, yet he felt that it was
his duty not to refuse Mr.. Staney's request
The latter soon declared his inability to meet the
demands of his creditors, and his property was
sold at great sacrifice.
And now. when too late did Mr.. Eastand ex-
perience the unhappy effects OF his indiscreet
kindness. The bulk of his own praperiy he
found must go TO discharge their responsibilities;
and it would be necessary for himself and Anna
to resign their comfortable residence, and seek
some humber home All these things bore heav
lily upon his already dropping spirit, and Anna
soon became aware that her father was actually
sinking beneath his accumulated msfor,unes.
They had not set left that home where they
had known so much of sorrow. when one evening
Mr.. Eastand called his daughter to the couch,
to which he was now almost entirely confined,
and putting an arm around her waist, drew her
closer to his side saying
Gamma, my love, am well aware that my
days are numbered-the sands of life are nearly
spent, and you will soon be left alone For my
self, have through the grace of God, hopes of
happiness beyond the grave, and blessed re-
union with your salnted mother, but you, my |
daughter, will be left penniless in the world, and
this is what embitters my dying hours"
''Oh father! father!" cried the deeply agita-
ted Anna, edo not talk so; say YOU will try to
live for my sake-my hands will never weary
working for your support, and we may yet spend
many happy hours together, do not, entreat, talk
IF leaving me alune!"
''it is His will my c lid who 'doeth all things
we'll; seek Him then who has promised that
when father and mother forsake, | will take thee
lp.' Compose yourself. my dear child, and lis
en to what am about TO propose. have been
thinking while lay here to day, that you can
perhaps find pleasant home with your aunt ir
Philadelphia, and it is my desire that you write
apprizing her of yonr MISFORTUNE
Will You not comply with your fathers last wish
IS, my daughters"
She was too much agtated to repy. but fem