The Union and eastern journal. [volume] (Biddeford [Me.]) 1854-1858, 1856-11-07

precious, uncomplaining wife, and that
she were taken from me now, life would b
q burden. But even when I laid the chill
beside her for the first time, and saw tn
loving smile that looked from the half-close
violet eyes up into mine, the tcmpter re
turned.
One night, wearied with the restraints o
the nursery. littlo Alice begged mo to row
her out upon the stream that ran sparklin,
and eddying at the foot Of the lawn. Sh'
was dropping in her mothers absence from
her daily life, and l had seen her sobbinl
more than once because the oficious nurs'
had denied her moro than her daily visit t.
the room which Mary had not yet LEFT. A
sudden impulse moved me to 9rant her re
quest. The sunset was ripping the waters
when I pulled passed our garden and aoated
out of sight. II was quite dark before
turned back, for the child was satisfied, and
l was lost in the old bitterness Of spirit.
She had been lying quietly on cloak in
tho bottom of the boat, unconscious Of the
cruel speculations of which she was tho in.
nocent cause. She loved mo and trusted me
as ever, and presently crept up and leaned
over my knee, dropping her curls over her
face to see how nearly they touched the wa
ter. 1t was dangerous position, and in
stantly drew my hand to guard her. I
drew It back slowly. Would it bo my fault
IL she leaned too far? Would not every
one understand it as child's frcakl Even
Mary would not dream of upbraiding me !;
and then oil would be at ON end, oil the daily
torture Of the child's presence, which would
increase year by year oil the cstrangement
between her mother and myself.
On my child would oe centered all the love
which l jealously e1acted for 1t. The slight
est movement on my part, tremulous dip
of the oar, and it was done. saw, as in q
fash, the pale face and stiaened limbs rise
and float past me, far down the stream the
babling cry rang on my ears.
had scarcely bent above the oar, yet
beaded perpiration stood upon my fore
head. l had consented unto her death"
With shuddcr and o gasp, Enclosed
my eyes to find that fancy only had made
this real. snatched the child to my heart
with vehemence that frightened her, and
for the first time in many weeks, kissed her
lips, her hands, her forehead 1t was in
thanksgiving sor my own salvation.
As l moored tho boat to the landing, and
took Alice in my arms, could SEQ through
he shrubbery that ghts were moving rarid.
y about the house (; all was in confusion rs
We approached it. Our physician met me
N tho hall, fastening to my wife's room,
with an underlined, sickcning apprehension.
lie had been Of no avail. My child had
,ecn seized with sudden convulsion, and
vas already dead.
Do you wonder that I mourned rs one
rho refused to be comforted? that I shut
myself from all, oven from my wife? Tho
outlines Of my heart was stirred almost to
madness by her self.forgetful tenderness.-
Ter own loss seemed put aside to comfort
nc. 1t was only when Alice came and
troked my haggard face softly, and whis-
,cred, "poor papa, lot Alice love you," that
felt her mother, knowing oil my sin, might
ret forgive and love me, that Heaven would
,ardon the crime it had so justly and sterrf.
y rebukcd.
have never had another child. Alice is
low my all. 1t was she who comforted me
n the first great sorrow of my life; it was
he who supported me in my great bereave-
ncnt, when years after, her mother was
AIKEN from me. My own child never could
rave rendered me more devoted flial affection
md obedience. Slow are we to recognize
he blessings held out for our acceptance.