True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1857-03-18
! z l! !R..AGAN, !. Editor and Proprietor.


are very welcome
But it is not to tell you of that summer
though look across the gray years to its
green picture in the Maryland of my
memory, that | have taken up my pen
this morning.
Suffice it, the mountain breezes of
Meadow brook did their work well and
when, in the early autumn, my mother
came for her child, she could hardly den-
;ify the rosy checked girl that rushed in,
with her curls dangling about her face,
and put up her rosy lips for kiss.
I think it must have been nearly two
months after my domestication at Aunt
Myras-lor so called my mothers cous
in-before Uncle Charles Brace, her
husbands brother, visited US. He was a
minister and Cora and icipaled the
genteman's advent with anything but
pleasurable emotions.
Our preconceived notions of the gen
tleman's elongated visage aud solemn.
Puritanica manner, which I'VE regarded
as necessary concomtants of the profess
sion, soon vanished before the kindling oi
his smile, and the winning gentleness oI
his manner. He was Uncle Phil's
youngest brother, not more than twenty
eight at that time and his religion had
deepened and harmonized his fine poetic
temperament without checking the out.
flow of that under-current of humor whicl
sparkled through his character. Un
Gle Charlie" was soon our companion il
our rides and ra!nbles, and our confdan
in all our gIrlish plans. r#a' Il,
"You don't really mean SO, Unc Ie
CharIe!" and Cora's bright face W "a
lifted from the roses and geraniums w
were weaving into boquet for the par
lor mantel. "You don't really thinI
what you just said, that in every heal
there is some fountain, some bios
som in the human wilderness of ever
soul ?"
He put down his paper, and came to
ward us. ~ haven't doubt of it, m,
little girl. The story was just reading
of the hardened old man who cried be
cause the child gave him bunch Q
marigods' corroborates my remark. Th'
light that is in US can not quite becor
darkness; the heart that might bring fort
fruit hundred fold for the harvest o
=. heaven, will never yet become such des
l er., but some good seed might take roc
5 therein"
E" I don't believe 'twould though in fal
: mer Keep. You don't know him as we
!. as / do, Uncle Charlie. He's one Of tn
# richest men in all Meadowbrook,. wort
thousands and thousands. He's an oil
r bachelor, you know, and lives in th;
: great red house on the road to Woodbur
you remember? Well, he never goes
e church he never gives cent to the poor
he never loved human being, or did
kind thing in all his life. Now. don
}, you think Farmer Keep-why, Crane
o ma Dsane, how do you.do ?" %
n The old lady, whose entrance put tn
e sudden period 10 my cousins earne
n peroralion, came slowly toward the rocl
It ing chair Cora drew out for her. 81
was the Oldest person in the villag,
!, The hair under her cap, white as hi
5, side snow, had imprisoned the sunshin
s of four score and ten summers. But 81
i still remained much of the physical al
E, mental stamina which, with her acti'
'e temperament, had made her SO ygorol
'r woman for many years. ,s
: What's that you're saying, chill
(, about Farmer Keep?" said the old lad
le with pleasant smile, as she pinned h
"a Knitting sheath to her waist.
II /" Why was telling Uncle Char
g. what a cold kind of man he is. You
ir always known him, Grandma Dean
'r Now, did he ever do a good thing,
is ever love any body in his life :"
4" Yes;'he loved once young girl,
% remember" ."a .iaa .t2aS af9 n sa
or d" Farmer Keep loved girl once
repeated Cora, with half-contemptuo
at and wholly skeptical curl Of her berry-r
IN lip, f" "She's forgotten she added, in
" undertone toher uncle and me. GrandI
" Deane was slightly deaf 9F2
"a N" No,I haven't forgotten either" r
IN cling her hand on Corai's hair. 7" ha
% held Lucy Reid'Oa my lapltoo often, a