Oroville daily Butte record., 1856-12-01
Ouuille DaiIg Batte RetarN.
Kate Lansing.
by PERDITA,

I shall be on my way to California, -
were the words addressed bv Young
widow TO her sister, somewhat her sen O..
ior, and also wido, as they sat in their
humble dwelling at the twilight hour.
ooh, never think of such a step. y
vas the reply; "all that I have urged
against it is not circumstance to what
I can urge. Think for one moment
that the change Of climate alone will
be hazardous to one of your delicate
constitution"
"Ha, ha, ha! fuss and nonsense.
sister; any change must be for good
Have you forgotten the cold, dreary
winter, from which we are but lust
emerging, that has been severe enough,
almost, to freeze the milk Of human
kindness in the warmesl breast I
have not forgotten it, nor yet how hard
it has been to do without wood in this
JeaqStif@l climate of ours"
"Sister, do not jest, consider tle in
convenience and danders to which you
will be esposed,"
"The dangers, nay sister, are aN in
your imagination. The Istlmus is the
worst part of the route but remember
that, in addition to being good horse
woman, shall have the advantage of
riding male de FAomme Ny costume
you will see, it fits exactly, and is ex-
ceedingly becoming. | almost fell in
love with myself in the glass.
"Sistcr, lay aside fryolty, and real
ly consider what you are about"
"Consider why, have considered.
am going TO California to make a for.
tune. DO not shake your head. aim
high is my motto, if you do aicht in
the dust {; and | aim to free not myself
alone, but you, from this CALLING power.
ty, | would see YOUR CHI dren plenti-
lully fed | would see them educated
rs becomes the descendants of revou-
tionary heros; | would see your face
free from that pallid anious, overtask-
ed look. / can do nothing here. 1t
was but yesterday Mr.. Scsrl stnt me a
package of shirts TO make, with word
that | must make them for twelve cents
a piece. When he gave me fifteen
cents before, and labor as hard as |
could, it was all that | could do to live
God knows | am not ,houshtlcss nor
heartless. See, | have even parted
with my wedding ring, the gift cf my
sainted husband, to buy medicines for
my sick, dying babe To me this, the
house of my early years, is but the
land of buried hopes, visions Of hap
py childhood, surrounded not only with
the comforts but the Injuries Of life,
my footsteps watched and tended by
the best of mothers, my wants more
than supplied by most indulgcnt faith
er, and these ever haunt me now. Oh,
how were my childish sorrows soothed
by their ever ready sympathy; oh, how
| remember what stimulus their words
OF encouragement gave, to my childish
heart And then there was our young
or brother, the bright-faced happy fell
low, who gathered all the broken CHI
ma to deck my playhouse with And
when dolls and play houses were laid
aside, and hard lessons had to be learn.
ed, there was one who explained and
made those lessons easy 70 me, and af-
forwards took me home from school up
on his own hand>sled and then, in af.
ter years, how many an hour We spent
together beneath the old elm tree. Eve
ry thing reminds me of the happy sea-
son of early womanhood here are the
very paths we used to tread /; there are
the books we used to read, the memory
of his kind and manly voice is with me
still. Then, too. | found that | had
learned new lesson, for l had learned
to love. Years rolled by. | will not
speak of our joyous wedding, nor the
trembling benedicton Of our kind old
father, nor the blessing of my mother,
as her tears fell fast and hot upon my
head. A short season of happiness
was ours sucb ne opr first ,,arpnts