Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1856-04-30
H NEW MOTHER.
BY VIRGINIA F. TOWNSEND.


"Well, now, dear, which will you have
tho white, or the pink camelias !? You
know you can take your choice, Alice p
and Aunt Maggie lifted the large blossoms,
and laid them against the little girls rich
yellow curls, as she spoke.
The blue eyes of Alice Field wandered
doubtfully from one to the other. 1t was
very hard to decide, for the flowers seemed
equally beautifully, as they lay among the
long green leaves, che white as the snow
on the mountain tops, the other wearing
that deep, rich flush which the little III
try children see in the June sunrises.
At last a new thought frightened into
Alice's face. "Ill take one Of each kind;
you know, Aunt Maggie, | am to wear
them on either side of my hair, and it will
be just the thing"
$50 it will, dear child. Just pull the
bell wire, while l pay the man = and
nom 1MefF pocket.
While Mrs. Field was counting the silver
another little girl put her head in at the
door, whom the lady ordered to bring a
glass vase, half filled with water, for the
camelias.
AS the flower man departed, the little
girl returned she vas about Alice's age,
and yet, what a contrast was there in the
two
Lucy Hunt had lived with Mrs. Field
but a short time. She was an orphan,
without any friends in the world. This
was the most the family knew of her.
She had a pale, wistful face, with large,
sad eyes, and her thick, brown hair was
cropped short in her neck, around which
loving fingers had once twined curls bright
as Alice Fields.
'There, Lucy !! just see what you've
done, now !! What a careless child you are
you've nearly spoiled Alice's new skirt y
said Mrs. Field, as she almost rudel,
brushed Lucy away, for the child had Stun
bled as she presented the vase of water, am
several drops had spilled over, and fallel
on the skirt the lady was trimming.
81 didn't mean to, ma'am," stammere,
the little girl " but somehow my head fel
dizzy"
"Well, do look out, and be more carefr
nexttime = rejoined Mrs. Field, who thong
frequently hasty, was not a hard-hearte
woman.
Alice looked up as the child left th
room. She saw the tears washing still
out of Lucy's eyes, and creeping down he
cheeks. Her heart was touched with pit,
and though Aunt Maggie continued to tai
about the new dress, and the birth-nigf
party, the child answered in dreamy MOI
, osyllables, for she hardly heard her, becau,
r of the little, pale, wistful face, with IL
tears flowing down it, which seemed stan,
/ ing right before her.
: At last she noiselessly slid out of tt
room, and went down to the kitchen doc
and peeped softly in, but Lucy was n
there.
Il guess she's up stairs in her own ROOF
n Maybe she's gone there to cry, poor lit
girl Intry and find her, anyhow" Al
a she went up four pair of stairs, and throu'
v the narrow, dark passage that led to Luc,
room, at the back of the house.
4 The door stood a little ajar, and Alice d
tinctly heard a sob creeping out of it.
le She went in bravely, then. "Lucy
N she said, in her sweet, low tones, 81 cal
to find you, and to tell you not to cry |
cause you spilled the water on my DIRE
/ don't care anything at all about it, y
n, see"
lg Lucy sat on the low bedstead, and
setting sunlight, as it pushed through
k half open blinds, struck rich and golden
v to the child's brown hair.
ty Alice went softly, and put her arms rou
rt her. Lucy looked up, and tried to SIN.
cd but the tears came instead, and great s.
IN shook her frame, through she chung to
re. ice all the time-Alice, whose bright e
,er were brimmed' with sympathy.
he cob it seems so good to have you hi
Ter if do cry" at last whispered Lucy.
lan "Does it? I'm real glad! But
au- mustn't feel bad any more. You're lc
,ss. some, l guess, because you don't have q
ia body to play with ye~."