True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1857-02-11

I TEUBENV VILLE, J OHIO, 7.

fbihgisbif hsfihssFt would break. 7. Oh
dear, Ilwish Thetford Hill was all burnt
up and then you would have to stay
here. "Siir. fnAi'a& 2 it Wap,
..4 lam afraidifit had not been for the
friends we have left behind, and that
strong nameless attachment that binds the
schoolgirls heart with hooks of steel''
to,lhe place where her happiest days are
spent. we should all have echoed little
Lizzie's wish. AS it was, we could only
watch the driver with soIrowful eyes as
ne carried out our baggage, and waited
for us 10 the hall. 4lb is
Those kind good-byes! They ring in
my ear even now, though six years have
passed away since they were uttered.
can see again the quiet figure of Susan.
and The plea SAINT smile Of her father, as
he asked US 10 /" come again. I can see
little Lizzie, with her kitten in her arms,
and the great tears rolling down her
cheeks, because {" Lutey" is going 10
leave her, and | can see those starry eyes
grow dim, and the young face grow sad
as the household. pet gives the last fond
,cafiesses to those she is about to leave.
J And remembering all this, i can but
wonder, as ! must, how that stricken
household have borne the heavy blow
that has fallen on them since. How
could they to whom so brief a parting
from the loved one was SO sad thing,
how could they give her up when she
went out alone on longer and darker
journey How could they take a last
look of that fair young face. and feel as.
sured that while they dwelt on earth
they should never see the light Of its
smiling any more !
Three years afterwards as I was hur
rying through the crowded streets o
Boston, | was startled BY alttle elegant
ly dressed lady, who droppe d a gentle
mans arm and came running up To- me
with both hands extended, Ilooked as.
kance at the delicate, primrose kids anc
was about to hint at a1mistake, when she
exclaimed saf u aa . hgaaea.4
l"' Why don't you know me! Lam
Lucy ~ l9
That, Lucy ? That pale delicate lit
tie thing, the rosy checked Lucy Of my
early days! Hooked at her in astonish.
ment, but the starry eyes and the quick
life like ways still remained to testify to
her identity. With a little becoming
blush and slight dropping Of the eye.
lids, She introduced me to her escort, and
excused herself from accompanying
him further, because she must talk tc
me. .aly r8el
= He raised his hat and said good NOR.
ming, and taking possession of my arm
in the old school girl fashion, Lucy
walked with me towards my. boarding
place. III .l Ati ,Sstai
"But will not your friend feel annoy.
ed Z" I askedy wondering little in my
own mind at her, avaliertreatment Of SC
dlgnifed parsonage ,H3i
Z" Not in the least" she answered
carelessly, Struggling her shoulders. He
Is willing 10 do all he can to please me-
as indeed he ought" she added with al
embarrassed laugh, " since am going tc
marry him"
!" You, little Lucyr-you going TO be
married g. / exclaimed in astonishmen
gglEalncing ggEl down on on her youthful face and
figure. Al,
!" So they tell me, and I suppose IL i
So" she answered naively. "He.. j:
fine looking. isn't hel But now tell me
all youlhave been about since / saw YOU
last. .H1nrlid ~ HrhsASfs i'r rHi bSgllSg
We were at the door OF my boarding
house, and taking her up into my private
"sanctum, 1--we sat down on thel0w sof;
aud talked for hours about the old friend:
and the old places. Again the contras
between our lots rose up before me. Fol
while Il had been making my way in I
rough uncharitable world the Sweetness
ofthat old home silence had kept hel
fresh and blooming like rose. s'79s
| It was our last inieryiew--our last on
earth, dear Lucy | had no fear for hel
when we parted. Young, rich, ant
beautiful, with fond parents and sisters
and a lover as true and good as hear
could wish.I What more was there fo
her to ask In aliltle while heard tha
she was married. \, ,,,,sa
| Two years passed1on. In the busll,
Of my city life / had lost sight Of Lucy
The friendships Of o school girl are Of
ten called transient--I think wrongly
Perhaps that excess Of sentiment which
prompts long correspondences and 70
mantle attachments may die away as on,
after another life's s,ernest lessons All
rced,upon us--bul I doubtmuch If an,
rightly ordered heart can ever forget thi
early times or the early friends that share'
them, lssa %g3s.
SoIfound il. Ineyer wrote to Luc,
II never heard from her but all Iii
time a chord was lying within my hear
that would have made sweet music at tn
mere mention other name. There wet
days and weeks, when, amid the care
ofbnsiness I never thought Of her---ani
then, again. soms song would ,be sung
lcr some street player, halting beneall
\ my window, would play a tune cha
would recall her TO mind, and ! wonl'