The Union and eastern journal. [volume] (Biddeford [Me.]) 1854-1858, 1857-05-08
From pesrson's Magazine Tor Nay.
The Cottage on the Hill.
ny LOUISE CHANDLER rouLros.

shingled roof. Ihcre shouid DC uecs IL
front, and rambling, carele.sly-built stone
wall, overgrown with swcet-briar and wood
bine, shutting it OF from the highway. Or
the eastern side would paint garden
not great, well.kept garden, full Of gay
flowers and thrifty vegetables, such as you
often sec beside substantial country farm
house. but one with few blossoms and
herbs, and berries, such as woman's hand
could keep in order. In front of the gar
den, I should draw the same rambling look
ing wall. only, instead Of sweet briar ant
Soodbinc, gooscbcrry and currans bushes
should grow thick and green behind it, and
in their midst you should see, as l did on'
July morning, years ago, old mother Mar
gerry, as the villagers called her, busily gath
erins the ripe, red currants, and dropping
them, sprig by spris, into her tin basin.
was going to school with a companion
a bold, black-cyed girl, a year or two Older
than myself The highway was white will
tie summer dust. The locust blossoms
which wo were not tall enough to reach
dropped downward, over head, tantaliznl
us with their fragrance. 1t was so warn
the bird, had ceased to sing, perchins lazil,
with folded wings: and looking over th'
wall, there was something very inviting il
tho ripe curants, and dewy roses under th'
shad -trees Of the little garden.
Il do think the old woman Is 80 mean,
said Jane Anderson, as we walked along
She never gives us so much as q holyhock
and that dill and carraway would be rea
good this hot morning, to say nothing Of th'
currants. Hey, mother Margery' she OK
claimed in louder tone rs We drew near
you're pic king currants, l 'spose, for you
husband and children, and haven't any t
spare?
Mother Margery lifted her grey eyes ant
gazed full upon her. There was an angrl
glcam in them, chased away, in an instan
by an expression Of wounded feeling, bu
she made no reply.
pitied her, and pulled James arm Il
draw her away.
Hush = said, you shall not say any
thing to pain her. She is old and she il
alone. What if you should be, some day ?
thought there was a look of grateful
surprise in the old woman's face, but she
did not speak, and we went along.
For the next two or three days, IS W
passed by to school, we did not see mothe
Margery. But at last, one morning, as
was going by alone, she came out andSPok
| to me.
Wont you come in p she said, in voic
which, though cracked and musical, wa
still friendly. You are good child, ant
I'd like to give you some Of the roses se
you looking at. lam old, asyou said, ont
all alone. have more flowers and frui
than can use myself
thanked her warmly. had never en-
tered the little garden before, and like al
prohibited places, it seemed sort of Para
disc. The roses, Of which she gave me
large bunch, were reddcr and swcetcr thar
any which grew in other gardens, and tn
surrants ard carraway were enjoyed with
kcener zest.
After that went freq uently to sec her
for it seemed to give her pleasure, and 4
visit one of whom the world knew 20 lit.l'
was rare treat myself. Once helped he
in her tasks, and read to her the favorit'
hymns and yerses of Holy Writ, which w,r
no longer lcgiblc to her dimmins sight
She was always kind bat never communica
tive, though sho listened with pleasure t
the little incidents Of my own life, and
grew, at length into habit to condde IL
her.
At fifteen came my FIRST love dream. Th'
star which rose then set soon after, or rath
er, l discovered it to have been rnsh.ligh
after all anda breath blew it out. But q
tho time my feelings seemed very real, and
carried them ut once to my customary con
fesor.
DO you love this young man then "
much p asked mother Marsery, rather sud
", when had concluded my recital.
.Oh, yes,' I answered, fervently, 'thcr'
never was, and there never viii be anothe'
like him.
Beware child, of giving all your heart NJ
to a human idol. God never blesses such ,
love. will tell you my story. twill no
hurt me to call back the long past now
when the blood flows chill and sluggish IL
my veins, and my steps arc 80 near tn
shadow Of death; and perhaps, it will d.
you good to listen.
You cannot see in my wrinkled face ant
dim eyes any remnants Of youth or beauty
but was young and fresh and blithsom'
once. though was never pretty. Such a
| was, Harry Picrson loved me, and at sew
entoen. promised to bc his wife. Oh, how
! loved him. Twas an orphan and no va
all had. l could not sec God in thos
DAYS, because of His creature Of whom l hat
made an idol. Harry was ambitious, bu
hs was poor. At twenty-one he resolved Il
70 to college. College learning wasn't &
common thing then as it Is now, and hi
......s-..5. F. l.. .r.