Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1856-04-02
CHolCg LlTgRATURg.
From the Ladies' Repository for March.
After Many Days.
By VIRGINIA P. TOWNSEND.

Z" Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt
find it after many days."
Wont John be surprised, though !! and
to think earned it all myself, too! It'll
strike his eye the first moment he comes
in, for shall have it stand right there m
der the looking glass; and the little Mrs.
Strong rested the handle of her tin dipper
on the edge of large earthen bowl, half
filed with rich pumpkin liquid, and CLAN
eIssed tcs5srd an OPPOSITE door which led inso
a small front parlor. You would have
known at once that the thoughts of the lit
tie woman were very pleasant ores by the
happy twinkling of her blue eyes, and the
smiles that every now and then revealed
the two dimples hidden just above the curv-
ing of her fair, smooth cheek.
1t was bright morning on the hither
side of November, and the sunshine looked
with real June smile into the pleasant
little kitchen, and wrote golden ballads on
the striped carpeting, and laid its bright
stereotypipg upon the newly white washed
walls but after all, the little woman BY
the table, with her CHECKED apron and hap
py, beaming face, was the sweetest picture.
1 'sposc all the neighbors will stare dread
fully when they see it, continued Mrs.
Strong as she deposited the contents of
her ladle in the heart of rich pie crust,
but I'm sure thev can't say that Tn ex
ira, agant, as [ earned the whole sofy with
my own hands, taking in those plain shirts
from Williams. I always thought the par
lor looked dreadfully bare, too, with noth-
ing but The table and the chairs, aud those
pictures over the mantle. | must hurry
along with bis baking to ride over to town
with farmer Williams, and engage them 70
send it over tomorrow. How cheap it
was-with that carving on top, too 1t
was as much as [ could do to keep from
telling John what I'd set about doing when
he was here in September; but I'm so glad
noN [ contrived to hold my tongue. Bless
me, there's baby waking up, in just the
wrong time tool The low cry of the half.
awakened child pnta all Mrs. S'rong's dreams
to flight as she hurried into the bedroom.
They were poor people, the Strongs.
You must have guessed that already, rea-
der; but the sunshine looked into many a
gorgeous parlor, and lay in rosy fakes about
the crimson drapery of many palace home,
and found less of real happiness and heart
flight bcisintii the clrrtz curtains
of John Strong's cottage, in the suburi {
of the little village in L.
He was journeyman carpenter, it is
true, and his wages were low, and his en-
ployment often called him, for months,
from his young wife, and the sweet child
that Of late had come to gladden. his home
but their memories always lay like dew and
sunshine about his strong, honest heart
and nerving it for his daily toll, and gather
ing round his pillow sweet home dreams
which many rich man might have envied
John had been absent from his hom
since the late summer, and the days wer
now hanging on the skirts of winter. N
wonder the wife's heart quickened at tn
thought of his return.
There, I've got just tart enough left fo
another pie, said Mrs. Strong it was
strange habit she had got of talking to her
self; as she scolloped with her thumb an
forefnger the rim Of her last pie. 'Pr
sure don't know what to do with it.
We've got enough to last whole week afte
thanksgiving, and-dear me, why didn't
think of it before J! continued the amiabl
little woman as she achieved the first crus
circle, I'll fix it as nice as know nov
e and give it to that little boy cross the stree
!: Poor little-fellow I don't blieve he {
his mother have had any thanksgiving, fc
I've notion they're terrible poor. Sh
e looks like real lady when I've seen ht
in the garden, and her large eyes and pa
: mournful features always make my hea
: ache, though, somehow | never yet conl
t find courage to speak to her. I'll call hi
d across the street and give it to him. ma
y be twill open the way to make acquai
a tance'
Little boy, little boy, just come aero
IS the road here, I've got something for yor
e The child was standing in the front do
5, of the old brown building, and the Mover
le Der wind was sitting through the long g
den curls that dropped like a bright clo
about his fair chilA-face, as he looked vii
W fully up and down the road, when NJ
r, Strongs voice arrested him.
to She was leaning over the little wi.
" gate, and there were something in her ia
le that would have brought almost any ch
to her side. The boy did not wait fo
second invitation.
eft Come in, just minute, said NJ
n Strong, in her kind, motherly wav, as :
ry took his hand and led him into the kitch
ia there's nice thanksgiving tart pie L
wv Nv been making for you, to-day. Don't
,to ,to love pie, little man 2
he A sudden light gathered into the bro
ire eyes of the child. Yes, ma ma, he 81
'sh Il love it, and so does mother too
Does she? Well, l think it's a
too bad we haven't been more neighbc
IN IN since you came here. My name is 4
fe1 leo Strong now, what's yours?
IL T. Ny names Willie Gregory, ma ma,
nv. piled the child, with his eyes fastened
ed: the pie.
the 'And your mother and you live
ard alone across the road, don't your que
ara Mrs. Strong, as she parted away the go
ieSe curls from The fair, broad forehead.
Yes, ma ma, we've lived alone S
cod papa died it is long time ago, and m
vii er hasn't hardly smiled since The
on fellows lip quivered, his eyes grew m
ina. and the tears hung like twin dew drop
st of his long brown lashes.
Dear me, haven't you any fathe