The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1857-11-19
THE MOURNING VEIL.
BY MRS. HARRIET BEEcHER STOWE.


melted il like the pearl in the golden cup of
Cleopatra, ard it lay in the West, fused macs
of transparent brightness. The reflection from
the edges Of 1, hundred clouds wandered hitler
and thither, over rock and tree and flower, Civ
ing a strange, unearthly brilliancy to the most
familiar things.
A group of children had gathered about their
mother in the summer house of the garden,
which faced the sunset sky. The house was
one of those square, stately wooden structures,
white, with green blinds, in which of Old timee
the better classes Of New England del GIFTED,
aud which remain to US as memorials of re-
spected past. 1t stood under the arches of two
gigantic elms, and was hankei on either side
with gardens and grounds which seemed de-
signed on purpose for hospitality and family
freedom.
The evening light colored huge boquets OF
petunias, which stood with their white or Grim
son faces looking westward, as if they were
creatures. 1t ilumiued fame colored
verbenas, and tall columns of pink and snowy
phloxes, and hedges of August roses, making
them radiant as the flowers of a dream.
The group in the summer house requires
more particular attention. The father and
mother, whom we shall call Albert and Olivia,
were of the wealthest class of the neighboring
CITY, and had been induced, by the facility of
railroad travelling, and a sensible way of view.
ing things, to fix their permanent residence in
the quiet little village of O.. Albert had
nothing in him different from multitudes of
hearty, joyous, healthily constituted men, who
subsist upon daily newspapers, and find the
world most comfortable place to live in AS
to Olivia, she was in the warm noon of life,
and picture of vitality and enjoyment. A
plump, firm cheek, dark eye, motherly full
ness of form, spoke the being made to receive
and enjoy the things of earth, the warm hearted
wife, the indulgent mother, the hospitable mis-.
tress of the mansion. 1t is true that the smile
on the lip had something of earthly pride
blended with womanly sweetness-the pride OF
one who has as yet known only prosperity and
success, to whom no mischance has yet shown
he frail basis on which human hopes ars
built Her foot has as yet trod only the high
places of life, but she walked there with natu
raj grace and nobleness that made every one
feel chat she was made for them and they foi
her.
Around the parents were gathered at this
moment charming group of children, who
with much merriment were proceeding to undo
bundle the father had just brought from the
city.
"Here, Rose," said little Amy, blue.eyed
haxen. haired pet, who seemed to be q priv
legged character, "let me come; don't be all
night with your orderly ways let nae cut that
string"
A sharp fash Of the scissors. a quick report
of bursting string, and the package lay opened
to the little marauder. Rose drew back,
smiled, and gave an indulgent look at her eager
younger sister and two little ones, who immedi.
ately gathered around. She was one of those
calm, thoughtful, womanly, young girls, that
seem born for pattern elder sisters, and for the
stay and support of mothers hearts. She
watched with a gentle, quiet curiosity the quick
and eager fingers that soon were busy in ex-
posing the mysteries of the parcel.
There's dress for Rose" said Amy, tri.
umphsntly drawing out delicate muslin "
can always tell what's for her"
How 2" put in the father, who stood re.
garding the proceeding with that air of amused
superiority with which the wesrers of broad
cloth look down on the mysteries of muslin
and barege.
"How! !" said Amy; "why, because they
look just like her. If were to sec taat lilac
muslin in China, ! should say it was meant for
Bose. Now, this is mine, know-this bright
pink isn't it, mamma? No half shades about
mel"
"No, indeed" said her mother; "that is
your greatest fault, Amy"
Oh well, mamma, Rose has enough for
both you must rub US together, as they do
light red and Prussian blue, to make neutral
tint. But, oh what ribbon Obi mother,
what love of ribbon Rose, Rose. lock at
this ribbonl And oh, those buttons Fred, |
do believe they are for your new coat Oh,
and those studs-fsthe1, Nnere did you get
them2 What's in that box? bracelet for
Rose, know! Oh, how beautiful perfectly
exquisite And here-oh 4"
Here something happened to check the volu-
biliy of the little speakers for ss she hastily,
and with the licepae of petted child, pulled the
articles from the parcel, she was startled To find
lying among the numerous colored things 8
black Grape veil Sombre. dark, and i'll omened
enough it looked there, with pink and lilac, and
blue, and gli,teripg byouterie, around it.
Amy dropped it with instructive repugnance,
and there was a general exclamstics-~
Mamma, what's this Q How came it here ?
What did you get this for?"
"Srapge F" said Olivia; cit is mourning
ueI. OF course / did not order it. How il
came in here nobody knows; it euat have been
mistake of the CLERK"
"Qsrtainly, it il q mistake" said Amy
"wo have nothing TO do with mourning, have
wep"
"No, to be sure; what should we mourn for ~
chimed in little Fred and Mary.
What dark, ugly thing it is =" said Amy,
unfolding and throwing it over her hesa; hoG
dismal it must be to gee the world through such
veil as this {"
veil like that one has never truly lived, said
fhar ,rsp he
"Ah, Father Pay on, are you there ," SAID
two or three voices at oncc.
Father Paysoa was minister of the village
and their nearest neighbor and not only their
nearest neghbor, but their nearest friend. In
the afternoon of his years, life's day with him
now stood at that hour when, though the
shadows fall eastward, yet the colors are warm.
er, and the songs of the birds sweeter, than even
in his jubilant morning.
God sometimes gives TO good men guile
less and holy second childhood, in which the
soul becomes childlike, not childish, and the
faculties, in full fruit and ripeness, are mellow
without the signs of decay. This Is that song.
ful land of Beulah, where they who have trav.
elled manfully the Christians way abide awhile,
to show the world perfected manhood. Life,
with its battles and its sorrows, lies far behind
them the soul has thrown off It's armor, and
sits il an evening uudrsss of calm END holy
leisure. Thrice blessed the family or neighbor-
hood that npmbesa aMoug 1t one Of these not
yet assembled saints! Gentle are they, and toll.
Grant, apt to play with little children, easy to be
pleased with simple pleasures, and with pity.
ing wisdom guiding those who err. New Eng.
land has been blessed in numbering many sulh
among her country pastors; and spontaneous,
instructive Difference, honors them with the title
of Father.
Father Payson was the welcome inmate OF
every family in the village, the chosen friend