True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1856-02-20

is dead she is dead!' and sank faintng
to the floor. Long and dealhlike was the
swoon that followed but when, towards
morning, she opened her eyes upon the
mourning mother who had left the dead
TO watch over her, the blessed light Of
reason again shone forth.
Mother, mother, such fearful dream
as have had! Where is Ella, mother =?
| thought, Her voice sank into a
whisper, then died wholly away, and she
slept--a quiet sleep, that reused The al
most extinguished hope in the hearts Of
the watchers that she would recover her
reason.
Long, long she slept; but when this
saving rest was over she walked with
new life in her veins; and the afflicted
mourners, with the dead body Of one
darling ch lid yet unburied, felt that an.
other had been rescued from worse than
death. g. '"
Slowly and by degrees, the full recol.
lection of her dcsolaton returned TO her.
She remembered the meeting beneath the
birch trees, and the frghtful secret reveal.
ed 10 her there; but with frmncss Of
character undiscovered before, she locked
the trnlh in her own heart, that she might
comfort the afflicted ones about her.
When the spring flowers blossomed on
Elias grave, Selome had formed her res.
ouIion. NonG had questioned her of her
strange insanity; but now she was re.
solved on her future course, and prepared
to act accordingly.
Mary had gone with her father 10 Wis
it sick friend in the neighborhocd, leav
ing Selome alone with her protectress.-
'Molher,' she said, abruptly, turning frou
some flowers she was arranging, has M,
father been here this winler?' The kin,
ady's voice trembled as she attempted Il
reply, for she had sad lidings 10 commu
nicate, and was fearful of the consequent
ces; but Selome saw at once that all wa
not right, and relieved her embarrassment
by assuring her that she could bear The ii
dings, however distressing. My dea
child said Mrs Carleton, you have com
lorled and consoled me much in my af1lic
ton; comfort me still more by endurin,
your own with calmness. We could no
tell it you before but I think you cal
bear it now. Is it not so, my childr
is my father dead ? wss The reply
and so quietly was the question aske,
that her companion looked wonderful,
upon her, TO see if she did indeed com
prehend the reality.
No tears we're shead, no mournings in
dulged. For few brief minutes neithe
spoke; but Selome again broke the 81
lence, and with deiberation and sell
possession that she had been nerving her
self to assume, told her mother the tai
of Evans.
DO not in mistaken kindness try to de
ceivc me- she said; my own remem
brance of my early years is quite vivi
before me, though | never understood
ill now and know that his words wer
true. Mother, you have been 10 me {;
more than words can express. For lie
, years have basked in the sunshine
. your love, which has been lavished ;
3 freely on me, quadroon though | am, as
r could wish. Your husband ha. been
father to ME, your children more tn;
: sisters; but, mother, il was an errir
> kindness; these happy, happy years W
but serve to darken more deeply m
gloomy future. II were better that I h;
+ heen left with my slave mother, to
come myself slave
e Vainly slrove the weeping friend
2 speak words of consolation.
!, 1t is useless was the answer. 'Tl
# education, mind, and taste, which ha
made me see and understand how great
It my humiliation, have nerved me 10 II
/, endurance
The midnight hour had struck, II
. night, ere the once happy circle sepal
!, ted. Neither prayers nor enireaties cou
"a change the decision Of the quadroon gi
,e and with extreme reluctance the doctor
last consented to her plans. A lett
of which had been received some months
ID fore from her fathers lawyer, was plac
m in her hands. stating that he was comm
Il; stoned 10 pay to her, yearly, the sum
IN five thousand dollars, which he wol
I'd transmit to any place that she should
m point.
ne A huge package accompanied his |
ly Ter, directed in her fathers own hal
he but the poor girl, guessing too truly