The Perrysburg journal. [volume] (Perrysburg, Ohio) 1853-1861, 1856-11-27

Bofore the lady could answer the door opened
and child walked into the room, G dripping, drag
gled, miseraby dressed, aud miserably worn child,
with tangled hair straying about her thin dark
face. .H r...I.'l -.3
Parson Hunter and his sister rose up dumb with
astonishmcnt
The little girl went straight up to them, and her
eyes turned eagerly wistfully and yet tinidly from
one to the other She might have been ten, she
could not have been more than twelve years
old. Dol. t.rr ...... .4.-.-..- -...
" They told me parson Hunter lived here, and
have come long way to find you. Please don't
send me away !" She said these last words with
such bcseechng carncstness, there was so much
trembling patlIos in her voice, that Miss Hunters
womanly sympathics were reused at once. She
whose tender heart would not have refused dog
shelter from the storm !" .
No, my child, we won't send you away. But
where did you come from this dreadful night and
what is it you want y ....e ... .... .. r.
al want you to let me live with you. I'll be
very good and work ever hard, il you'll only let
me study, sometimes. I've walked all the way from
Meadow Brook since yesterday morning 10 find
you" tn
"From Meadow Brook? Why that's twenty
miles y rejoined in one breath the parson and his
sister.
a know it. Last night slept under the trees
in the wood and to-day walked all the rest of the
way ...... ....
=" But haven't you any friends What made
you away so, my child ?? queried the interested
minister. '. ......
a Let her sit down first, brother. Poor thing !
she must be so tired and Miss Hunter pushed a
chair towards her. . .-. D.
So Muriel Heth for you know it was her, reader,
sat down and told her story simply, honestly, and
yet with a natural pathos, which went right to the
hearts other hearers,
She told them of her orphan childhood and her
dead grandmother--of her dull, wretched, toisomc
life at the widow Wards and of her climbing up
the cherry tree, and how Norman Guilds had drawn
her into the window. Her hearers exchanged sig
nifcant glanccs at the mention of this name.
She related briefly her interview with him, and
how he had wished they could see her. He would
have come himself and told you about me, | am
certain, if the letter had not conc. But thought
about it every day, until at last one night when
lay alone in my bed, voice ned to call out to
me, why don't you go yourself and find EN-, Mu.
riel And lay awake until almost morning think.
ing about it. Two days after started. Please
don't send Inc back, will you' II you do, shall
die"
Don't think about that now my child, we will
talk it over tomorrow" And the tender-he;r.ed
old maid stroked away the tangled hair, and look
ed on the little dark face through her tears. \.
for the parson he stood still, thinking, thinking viii
an unusual moisture in his eyes.
Anu lltn MISS NlcHclhDel DuSlitu Oil WIFI lllC
little girl into the kitchen and reused up Bridget
who was doing by one corner OF the immense fine
place. 4
A brisk flame was soon kiudled, and enveloped
IN old wrapper and shawl of Miss Hunters
Murel took her first supper at the paraon age
pausing sometimes to ask herself whether all this
were not dream, from which she would awaken
to find herself In the little attic chamber at Mrs
Wards.
Mehetabel returned to her brother. He wa,
walking thnughtfully up and down the room.
"WeIl Ezra, what shall we do with the child p
She asked it in plsn. straightft rward manner
for Miss Hunter was pretical woman, aud
neve: had any sentinentalism with her benevo
, lence.
Then two rose up from the dead and plead
with the pastor for the little orphan. One was
gentle. far-hared woman, the wife of his youth fo
whom he had been a life mourner, and the other
the hlue-eyed babe she took with her when sh'
went from him. oh. they were trIly eloquent
plcaders for the little, worn, weary chill that az
sleeping soundy overhead.
t. Mehetabel, il may be God has sent us the cir
to be light and comfort to our old age. We viii
keep her." said the pastor, ,tenderly aud soemnly
a And so It was settled
Murel Heith had b en- at the parsonage abou
two months, when letter was received from Nor
man Guilds. The child had improved very rap
l. idly for new life was now being developed il
S this new social and moral atmosphere. She haC
r manv faults and OF course there much to
eradicate, much that required judeious guida, c.
and discipline in her nattire. But she had warm
rich affections and deep, conscious love Of truth
and where these two exists there is q foundation
a whereOn to build
Norman Guilds letter was brief, for he was OIL
the of starting for Europe with his mother
: whose delacate beath demanded an immediat
II change of climate.
/ And after apologlzng for his sudden departut
from the North, without seeing the pastor and hi
e sister he spoke of MureS "You will see her for NJ
sake" he said, "and do what you for her.
nanvincad thara tha oil tS nf nm
ii beautiful character in this wild, neglected child
: Pardon me for suggesting that taken to your ow
> home, surrounded by its refining and elevating in
20 fiuences, she would develope a rare and most in
teresting character. '''-
Miss Hunter read this passage to Muriel rathe
IT njudiciousy, perhaps, but out Of the goodnes
e Of her heart. Oh il you had seen the large eye
Il blacken and brighten with every word, and tn
little thin face, over which the warm hued hal
,r fell in curs, glow out she listened to tn
10 words you would have felt that Muriel, th
y child Muriel's soul, Gods finger had written tha
y burning word Genius. .
% Ten Years have passed. 1t is the late afternoo
= of an October day. Mountains OF rich gold an
III crimson C ouds are heaPed in the west, aud til
young lady that sits by the front chamber windo
c. of the old parsonage, where she has been assid'
10 ousy writing for the last three hours throw
rd down her pen and gaZes out on the sky.
Is Look at her now her face is study. 1t
III not handsome it never will be but it is delica
~ and refined, with infinite variety Of expire
o., sion. .
: The low, intellectual forehead is swept by banc
Of rich wavy hair-the eyes-Oh, were there ev
4. eyes like unto them so dark, yet so clear
S. mysterious yet so easily read in short, so wo
p derful and so beautifulH The face is dark, thi
Sc irregular, and the mouth rather cold and prou
perhaps sad in repose, hut tender sweet ehild-il
on when it nestles into q smile
tie The young girl looking off so abso' he'd in tn
rr, sunset is an authoness, and her name-but y,
ii know that already At last with a low sigh s.
I turns away opeus an elegantly bound journal Oh
W lies OIL tho table, and taking her pen once mo
lu- writes rapidly.
pc "To-day is my twenty fourth birthday.
'cc is two years ago this week since uncle Ezra "
lie, lain down by the wife of his youth, and on thin
ry ing of this the other has slipped from aunt Mets'
rht memory, dear soul
n, II have been walking down the pastand hu'
ros ing up old acquaintances, viz: the days that