Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1857-07-17
Mtisfella
A BEAUTIFUL sKETcH.
A ME GREY f.


She was winsome girl. Never was
one more SO. Her home was in thu
opening of gorge Of the mountain where
the ravine spreads out into the valley,
not very wide, watered by stream that
dashed wildly over the rocks little far
Their up. The broad, low cottage OF the
Widow Grey Gas will call her by your
leave, although / need not say use a
fictitious nancy was concealed from view
in the day time by dense mass of trees
and shrubbery, except on one side,
where the lawn sloped down to the bank
of the creek. Here were usually moored
two or three little skiffs, which might
easily be forced up the rapids quite into
the mountain gorge, and which were Of
ten seen bearing Annie and her brother
down the current, returning from some
expedition on the hills.
Had you passed along the road which
crossed the mouth of the ravine below
the cottage, you would not have suspected
that house was in the thicket above you,
unless it had been in the evening, and
you saw the CLEAN of the light, or pau
sed, as / often paused, to let your horse
drink at the edge of the broad creek !;
and then perhaps you might have heard
a song floating out of the dark wood and
if you rode on till midnight, it would
linger in your ears, and you would fancy
you had heard a spirit.
That man must have had hard heart
that did not love Annie Grey. She was
the impersonation of loveliness. never
could describe face or form; l do not
remember friends by their features, and
] have not the remotest idea of the color
of their ewes or hair. in nine cases out of
ten. But do remember her with dis
tinct memory. She was tall, that is,
rather above the medium height, and
slender, but gracefully and beautifully
shaped. Every motion was natural and
unaffected, and her footstep was as light
as her heart-and that had not a heavi-
ness. Sweet Annie Greyl The music
of her laughter rings from out the lone
some years like the melodious carol of a
bird in the arches of ruined temple I!
Her eye was dark, quick as sunshine in
its changes, and full of unspoken poetry
You might read all manner of beautiful
fancies and holy thoughts there. But l
linger too long on this description of her
Her brother was a fine fellow, year or
two older than she, and one of the mer-
riest boys in all the country. He loved
his sister, too, and, as ! have before re-
marked, love has rejecting force which
makes the lovely.
j am completely lost in wbirlwind Of
memories now that | return to those days
and scenes. There we're a thousand in
cidents Of my early life that are brought
wildly before me the moment / recall
the old cottage in the glen and its be-
loved inmates. How startlingly does
the trite remark, that we live in chan
cling world, recur TO our thoughts every
day. In fact, it cannot become trite.
The very stars we worship as change
less, sometimes fall, and the eyes that
we worship with moro Of devotion than
the stars, grow dim, and the hearts that
we fancy are immutable, charge mourn
fullyl There is nothing immutable but
God. It's the attribute Of Deity which
includes all others, and TO which mortals
do homage because they cannot compre-
bend it.
A score Of years has removed the cot
tage from the Garth, and its inhabitants
have separated here, have met again up
yonderl One by one, their lips muir
muring hymns and prayers, and their
white hands folded together, the friends
of my younger days have passed away.
and but few remain Of all that company.
Annie Grey died thus. One glorious
summer evening, when the moon was in
its full, she and Ned had been strolling
up the mountain side, and coming down
together, had nearly reached their boat
as twilight gathered around them. 10th
to return from the forest. she badc Ned
push the little skih almost under the fall,
and standing on a rock in the very mid
die Of the water, she shook her tiny fist
at the cataract, and held mock CONVEX
sation with il.