Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1856-01-03

OF her parent, and answered after pause J.:
have nothing to grieve me, dearest mother,
save the thought that you and my father-who
were once rich and honored-must now toll like
peasants. And my father has no wine to cheer
him when hc is faint. l heed not poverty
but it is bitter to him.
: 1t is our lot, and we must submit said the
dame, mournfully.
Madame Perota, the rich lady in the hamlet,
wishes young girl like me, for an attendant;
if | might go and earn money for you and my
father
Speak not of it, Roswitha thou wouldst
find the great DANES humors harder than la
Dor. And couldst thou leave us! No-no--we
will bear penury together. Better days have
been, and may come again
sosaying, the dame wiped her eyes, and re-
turned towards the cottage, followed by her
daughter. Roswitha had not told all her
thoughts. She said not how the old tale she
had heard so oft in childhood, of treasure, bu-
ried in the mountain of the Schalkstein, had of
late dwelt upon her mind She told not how
she had dreamed twice of walking on the noun
tain, and finding the mysterious flower, and the
treasure and how happy it made her parents.
Nor how she had watched for the eve Of st.
John, and prayed all day to her Maker, till her
heart was strong within her, and she was re-
solved to face every danger for the sake of those
to whom she owed her life. All this, and her
resolution, Roswitha kept within her own heart.
She smiled as she bade her father good eve, and
meekly bore his petulant chiding for lingering
SO late, and assisted her mother in household
work, talking cheerfu]ly the while, until her
parents, after evening prayer, retired to rest
Her own little chamber was next to theirs She
seated herself by the easement, leaning her head
on her fair hand, and watched the glorious
moon going up the sky, till the orb hung like a
crown of silver over the mountain. Then Ros-
witha softly opened the door, and went forth.
The whole valley was light as day. She walk
ed rapidly, without looking round her. till she
reached the mountain of the Schalkstein. The
woods here were not dense the moonlight
streamed through the foliage to the ground !;
and bending forward as she walked the maiden
sought the strange flower. There were pale
marigolds in abundance, and e-bells, and the
golden buttercups, and St. Johns wort, and the
lowly daisy, and phlox, and the wild violet !;
but all these were familiar. In vain sho sought
one she had never seen. Intent on the search,
she wandered for hours upon the mountain. At
last the !bleached, bare yack of the Schalkstein
rose full before her, white in the moonlight
All was still as death and as the utter lonel-
ness Of her situation, miles from home, occurred
for the first time, to Roswtha, she felt her heart
sink within her. The spot WIS banned by Spir-
its--it was the hour Of their sway! What did
she, wandering alone in their domain, seeking
treasure over which they alone had power Or
might not evil men be lurking, at midnight, in
these lonely woods! How could q helpless girl
if she CHANGED upon robbers, escape or fy!-
Then her parents-should they wake and call
to her-what would be their alarm when she
answered not, and they found her chamber soli-
tary' Poor girl her courage had departed
she only wished to reach home in safety. Walk.
ing as fast as possible, she took the nearest way
homoward but bewildered and frightened, lost
herself in the woods. After wandering about
some time in uncertainty, she sat down, utterly
exhausted, and weeping bitterly, at the foot o.
a tree. Nature soon yielded to fatigue and sor.
row, and she fell into profound slumber.
The moon was just decending behind the
mountain opposite, when dark figure, wrap
ped in clock, entered the wood. 1t was tht
stranger from the hamlet. He too had beer
wandering around the Schalkstein, in his phslo
sopher's search. Beguiled by the beauty of thu
night and the romantic views that presente
themselves at almost every turn, he had roamet
farther than he intended. The sight of a whit
object at u little distance caused him to quicker
his pace. Beneath the shelter of tree,
young and beautiful girl lay asleep. Her cheel
rested on the dark moss her loosened hair, il
long light curls, lay on her fair neck and bo
som. Tears still hung on the slken eye-ashes
and now and then-though her slumber wa
deep as an infant's-a sigh heaved her breast
as if in sleeping she had not forgotten her griei
Never had SO exquisite picture of youth an
grace and lovelness, met the gaze of the stran
ger Taking. off his mantle, he laid it softl
, over the unconscious maiden, and seated him
self beside her.
T Hours passed, and still the stranger watche
the sumbers af the fair girl. At length, tn
gray dawn began to steal over the sky til
mountain tops were crimsoned with the firs
, rays of tho sun. Roswitha opened her eye,
started up, and shreaked when she saw q mar
SO near her.
Be not alarmed, fair maiden said he, {
found thee sleeping, and made bold to guard tn
, rest, and to shelter thee with my mantle frol
/, the night air.
. Roswitha timidly murmured her thanks, ar
q began to walk quickly homeward The strang
followed her. They soon passed out of IL
+. wood; but the sun had risen when the your
t girl came in sight of the cottage. Her paren
e had already missed her, and were calling h
# name in tones of terror and anguish.
% | am here-mother Father--I am htr
answered Roswitha, broathless, and runuir
towards them. The dame met her, wringir
her hands and weeping violently.
d Where hast thou been, Roswitha ask
her father almost sternly.
vs. The maiden confessed all her foolish dream
and vain search. She had done 'childisely
but it was to serve her parents
Nay chide her not, interrupted the strang
advancing towards the group, as he saw hc
10 severe q reproof the moor girl was tn hear