The Evansville daily journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ia. [i.e. Ind.]) 1848-1862, 1856-04-23
GBe 9ailg JonrnaI
THE BLOSSOM IN THE WILDERNESS.
By VIRGINIA F. TOWNSEND.
T fcoNcLUDRD.l |

with Squire Wheeler. There was some flaw
in the title; and people said it was plain the
old man must let the ho1nessead go. They
said too he'd never survive it !; and better,
perhaps, he never had, than kept it. as he
did But one day Squire Wheeler, to all the
astonishment. rode over to the
farm.
What he did there was never exactly
known, but in little while it was rumored
that the suit was withdrawn, and, come spring.
Lucy Reid was to be married to Stllman
Wheeler And SO it was. One bright March
day she went into the old church, and gave
herself to him.
"He Was d good looking man, but not over
smart, the ncighbors whispered and always
thought it was his money more than any thing
else that kept him up"
But, Justin, grandma Desne-Whas became
of Justin ?'
There is dark look about the whole mat
ter. Lucy was made the victim Of some ter
rible falsehood. | never blamed her father, for
the thought of losing the old homestead seemed
to shatter him.
81 only know that Squire Wheeler and his
son were at the bottom of it, and that Lucy
Reid went to the altar beliving that Justin
Keep had been false to her"
'Dear me how dreadful! Did he ever
come back 2"
Yes, the next May. Lucy Ia been wife
two months. Justin had noI ncaiQ mar
riage. She WAS at home, visiting her ta.her.
When she met him at the door, she fell down
like one suddenly stricken with fit.
But he carried her into the house. and
there they learned all. Both had been de-
ceved /!
1T was terrible scene that old front room
witnessed. Justin swore terrible oath of
vengeance; and it was not till, with clasped
hands and streaming eyes, the young wife
kneeled to the only man she had ever loved,
and pleaded for the life of her husband, that
he promised for her sake to spare him.
g But from the day of Justin's visit Lucy
Wheeler Was changed woman. All the light
and gladness of fier being seemed dead in her,
and She moved about her house, pale and quiet,
with look of patient suffering in her once
SUNNY eyes that made my heart ache to be-
hold ---z
"And her husband Did she ever tell him
what she had learned p
II think not His father and Lucy's died
in less than two years after the MARRIAGE
The Squire was much less wealthy than peo-
pie supposed. The next spring Lucy and her
husband removed west, and somehow people
lost sight of them"
"And Justin ?'
"You know the rest my child. He became
a moody, unhappy man, asking no sympathy
and giving mono. But he was always smart
at bargain, and in q few years he laid ul
enough to buy out Deacon Platt's farm, wheI
i his son moved to the south.
"Ever since he has added acres to his lands
4 and hundreds to the banks; but for all that
he's man soured towards all his race-a mar
who was never known to give little child
smile or beggar a crust of bread hav,
sometimes thought his heart was like grea
4 desert, without tree to shade or stream t
gladden. it. And yet it bore bright blossom
once; and believe me- children, for 1t is th'
word of an old woman who has seen and known
much of the ways of man, it is SO always
4 The heart may be great wilderness, but a
some of ats by-aoays there has groom Fower'
Cora and / looked at each other and at un
ele Charlie. just then aunt Myra came ln.-
She had been out, and had not heared
Grandma Deans visit
i But Cora stole up to her uncle, and wind
i ing her arms about his neck. whispered, ''
shall believe it always, uncle Charlie, now
have heard that story about farmer Keep, tho
!. there is blossom in the ,Vildeyness Of eve;
heart.'' ~
It was suItry August day in the summe
I psssed Meadow brook. The wind, low an
= sIumberous as the bush of mothers voice q
nightfall, crept up through the corn, and dow
: among the rye and wheat fields, that lay lik
broad green folds about the dwelling OF farm
y er Keep. There was no poem OF flower
: written about the front yard; no graceful hal
monizing touches of creeping vine or waytn
curtains about the old red homestead; and ye
lit had Quiet, substantial, matter Of fac
:, physiogomy, that somehow made home Zee
ing about your heart.
ot I think it must have been this unconscior
feeling which decided the course of the giI
= who stood at the point where the two roaC
IN diyerged. and gazed wistfully about her tn
: afternoon. sg- s-
{. She seemed very tired, and her coarse stra
bonnet and calico dress were covered Wi
dust. If you had looked in her face "
Isl would not have forgotten it. 1t could N
: lhaye seen more than fifteen summers. ltw
j, very pale; and its sweet, sad beauty made y
think of nothing but forest flowers drench
:. with summer rains. Her eyes were OF tn
deep moist blue that rolls out from under 7
edge of April clouds, and her lips ripe and II
for as meadow strawberries, had that touchil
sorrowfulness about them which tolls you
lay ways the heart beneath is full OF tears.
:. The girls hand clasped tightly the lit
- hov,s by her side. The resemblance betwe
the them would have told you at once they we
eo- brother and sister, but his life could not ha
ent covered more than third OF hers. The lit
,sr orv felows large eyes were full of tears and
sas- bright curls that crept from his hat We
but damn with moisture. He was hungry a
IN !; in tired and motherless! What sadder histo
the can one tell of little child?
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