Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1856-10-08
Original gtOrp.
Written for the Spirit of the Age.
IL 0 K A G L L A V E r N E
OR THE WIFES TRIALS.
CHAPTER I.


ringing in startling peais upon the ears of
Mrs. Laverne, and seeming, so intense was
the silence it broke, many times louder
than usual. But its tones died away, and
silence and sadness again reigned supreme.
Not even n cricket was chirping on the
hearth, and all was still save the monoto-
nous ticking of the clock, the gentle breath
ing of little fair.haired girl, and the dirge-
like moaning of the autumn wind through
the leaaess boughs Of the yard trees and
around the broken windows of the room.
The embers were dying in the fireplace,
and the ftful blaze of single pine knot
cast its aickering light through the room,
throwing changeful shadows, dark and
spirit-like, around the solitary figure of
Mrs. Laverne, as she sat in mournful at
titude and brooded over the wreck of hopes
aud happiness, and shrank from contem-
plating the contrast between the past and
present, or looking into the future. All
around her was cheerless and gloomy, and
her heart was desolate desolate desolate !
Shrined in the pure affections of ker soul
there had been bright and holy image
one tinged by Heavens own hues and set
in fairest gems. She had cherished it as
the idol Of her soul, and around it clustered
all her earthly hopes, her fond dreams of
!. peace and happiness 1t was the centre of
all her thoughts and actions, the effect OF
ner noblest pride; and her most solicitous
care was to keepit pure and bright. But,
alas a ruthless hand was laid upon it,
plucking off gem after gem, dcfacing with
the dark poison-drops of despair, joy after
Joy, and obliteratiug feature after feature of
loveliness, and substituting those of defor-
nifty, until now presented hideous sight,
loathsome aud disgusting, from which she
turned with horror and aversion. God
pity the poor suffering heart whose wor
ship-image is thus turned to picture o
despair! God pity the poor darkened bo
som that shrines picture on which tht
mental eve cannot bearto rest ! What tina
picture lDas, and IS, we shall see presently
The wheels of time have rolled anothe
hour into the eternity of the past, and q
gain the clock breaks the sad stiffness @
the room, booming in almost thunder tone
the hour of twelve. Then little Marion, tn
fair-haired blue-eyed little girl, aroused
from her sweet slumbers, and turns in he
little bed. The love promptings of he
puileless and affectionate heart turn he
eyes instiuctively to her mother, and he
sweet tones ask
Mother, why do you cry ?
tYour mother has many troubles, m
child answered Mrs. Laverne.
Have been naughty, mother? p
ha
little girl and now 60 to sleep
Yes, mother, l will-has pa come hon
yetY
No, not yet and Mrs. Lavernes tea
eushed forth more freely, but she turnt
away that her child might not see them
Little Marion closed her eyes and was s
lent and in n few moments was in IL
pleasant realms of childhood's peaceful ar
innocent slumbers.
Mrs. Laverne sat motioness for son
time, in the agony of thought, and at la
murmured in low and choking tones:
ooh is it so ? alas that he shou
come to this Am indeed drunkdro
wife, and is my lovely little girl dram
ards daughter? Is the sunshine of d
mestic happiness forever gone, and mu
clouds forever darken the affections !?
Must life, henceforth, be reft of all its JOY
o. have striven to persuade myself th
il was not so; but the truth is forced I
on me in all its appalling reality. Q Co.
Let thy mercy surround him, thy truth &C
vince him, and thy spirit guide him !
oh! if there be picture more dal
more narrowing to the soul-one over viii
the angel of virtue would hover with m'
sorrowing countenance-than that of a I
ble hearted man degraded to drunkal
4 i that of true hearted woman, slttl
alone and in tears, in the silent watches
the night, her bosom wrung with ma
contendinr emotions, and her soul W.
and fainting with her vigils and her an
otv awaiting the return of that drunka
her husband-from one of his mldnit
reyels Earth has no darker picture
none over which the heart OF sensibh
would bleed more freely, nor the eye
nity shed more copious tears.
And how many such are there spr
throughout the length and breadth OF
favored land Of ours The public eye
not the consequences of lntempeeranct
heir most biighting effects, and its
hears not the sighs and groans OF suffer
,-omen We mark her pallid cheek
wasted form but We cannot lay bare
secret chambers Of her soul ana vie"