Eastern times. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1846-1857, 1856-02-14
Gbe storg Geltr.
THE FREELY:
Or, God Z


On the evening of hot and sultry day,
poor widow sat at the open window of her
little chamber, and gaZed out upon the neat
orchard which surrounded her cottage. The
grass had been mown in the morning, but the
heat ofthe sun soon dried it. She had al
ready gathered it into heaps, and the sweet
smell of the hay now blew into her chamber,
as if 10 refresh and strengthen her after her
labor; the glow of sunset was already fading
upon the border of the clear and cloudless sky,
and the moon shone calm and bright into the
little chamber, shadowing the square panes of
the halfopen window, together with the grape
vine which adorned it, upon the nicely sanded
floor. Little Ferdinand, boy of six years of
age, stood leaning against the window frame;
his blooming face and yellow locks. with
portion of his white clean shirt sleeves aud
scarlet vest were distinctly visible in the moon
light
The poor woman was sitting thus to rest
herself perhaps. But oppressive as had been
the labor Of the sultry day, yet heavier bur-
then weighed upon her bosom, and rendered
her forgetiul of her weariness. She had eaten
but spoonful or two of their supper, which
consisted of bowl of bread and milk Little
Ferdinand was also greatly disturbed, but he
did not speak, because he saw that his mother
was so sorrowful Having observed that his
mother, instead of eating. wept bitterly, he had
laid aside his spoon, and the earthen dish still
stood upon the table, almost as full as when it
was served up. 1t was placed in the moon
beams that it cas- clear round light upon the
ceiling OF the chamber.
Maria was left a widow in the early part of
the past spring. Her deceased husband, one
of the worlhiest young men in the village, had
By industry and economy, saved sum of
money sufficient TO purchase the little cottage.
with its neat meadow, though not entirely free
from incumbrance. The industrious man had
planted the green and cheerful field with
young trees, which already bore the faest
fruit. He had chosen Maria for his wife al
though she was poor orphan, and her parents
had been able to give her nothing more than
good education; he had chosen her because
she was known the most pious, industrious
and well-behaved maiden in the village. They
had lived happily together. But the typhus
fever broke out in the village, and her hus-
band died. Having nursed him with the great
est tenderness, she herself was attacked with
il after his death, and barely escaped with life.
Her husbands sickness and her own had
must even part with her little cottage. Her
deceased husband had long labored for the
richest peasant in the country man by the
name OF Meyer. The peasant, who highly es-
teemed him, on account of his fidelity and in
dustry had lent him three hundred crowns to
purchase this cottage, with the ground be-
longing 10 it, upon the condition that he would
pay off fifty crowns yearly, twenty-five in mon
ey and twenty-five in labor. Until the year
shat he was taken sick, her husband had faith
fully performed his agreement, and the debt
knew all this very we'll.
Meyer now died of the same disease. The
heirs, and daughter-in-law, found the
note for the three hundred crowns among the
papers of the deceased. They did not know a
word about the affair, as the old man had new
er spoken of it 10 them. The terrified woman
assured them, calling heaven TO witness, that
her deceased husband had paid off the whole
except fifty crowns. But all this was OF no
avail. The young peasant called her shame
less liar, and called her before court of law.
As she could not prove that anything had been
paid, il was decided that the enters claim
against her was valid. The heirs insisted up
on payment, and as poor Maria had nothing
but her cottage and grounds, this little prop
erty must now be sold. She had fallen upon
her knees before the heirs, and had prayed
them not TO turn her out of doors little Fer
dinand kneeled with her-both wept-but all
was in vain. The following morning was ap-
pointed for the sale. She had heard this an
hour before, just as she had finished her days
work. A neighbor had called out over the
hedge and told it TO her.
1t was for this reason that she now sat so
sorrowfully by the open window, glancing now
upward to the clear sky, now upon Ferdinand,
and then gazed sieadtastly upon the floor
There was a sad silence.
'Alas = she said to herself Il have to-day,
then, raked the hay from the orcha rd for the
last time. The early yellow plums, which
picked this morning for Ferdinand, are the
last fruit which the poor boy will eat from the
trees which his father planted for him. Yes,
this may be the last night we shall spend be-
meath this roof. By this time tomorrow, this
cottage will be another's property, and who
can say but we shall be turned out at once.
Heaven alone knows where we shall find
shelter tomorrow. Perhaps under the open
heavenr She began to sob violently.
Little Ferdinand, who until now, had not
moved, came forward, and weeping, said
Mother, do not cry so bitterly-or esle l
cannot talk to you. Do you not know what
father said, as he died there, on that bed T.
"Do not weep so," he said ssGod is father
to poor widows and orphans Call upon him
in thv disfress md he IL