Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1857-03-07

before me in all its beauty and when pluck
ed it, | have found treacherous ihorns but |
do not forget the flowers without ihorus, which
gave to me nothing but pleasure. There was,
however; turning from this well.beaten track
"A passage IN my lifes history which redeems
il from monoiony, and which may win you as
listener for little while. This one passage
which, through long vista offorty y-nine years,
quivers this aged frame with sickenng hor
ror, will send a thrill through your young heart
which will be recompense sufficient for any
trouble on my part.
My life began in the State of Georgia, where
my father owned large plantation. lie had
started in life with but little, but by those
strange turns aud quirks of fortune had anass-
ed an immense property. 1t is not worth while,
as it has nothing to do with my story, to enter
into a description Of the personal appearance,
character, and mental qualifications Of my deaf
father Suffice it TO say, that he was a noble,
| hgh-souled Southeruer, warm hearted and
generous TO degree which had Dame Fortune
been less constant, would have made and left
him beggar. 1t might with truth have been
said of him, that he was without lttlehess of
feeling, and it makes my heart swell with hon
est pride 10 call him father.
My mother Oh, what streams oficnderness
flow in at the very name, refreshing and MAX.
/ ing nc young once more What do not re-
call of her that is beautiful and loving with
her soft brown hair and smooth pure brow,
trayersed, even as first remember it, by lines
of care the deep blue eyes, too, with the
shadow over them, showing that life had not
been without its strifes 10 her.
She had rejoiccd in the birth Of many chill
dren, but bud after bud had dropped unblossom-
ing from the parent tree until alone was LEFT
and upon me was lavished all the tenderness of
her loving heart There was one other mem
her of our family whom must meniion-it was
a ward OF my fathers young orphan girl, left
to him by an intimate friend when she was but
an infant. She was the only heing who ever
attempted 10 rival me in the affection of my pa
rents, aud wc loved each other too fondy for
jealousy. From being pure, fairy-like little
being like, indeed, TO fair flower, we called
her Lily. The name suited her well she
was just one TO smile and rejoice in the sun
shine, bu, bend and droop before the slorm.-
She was younger than myself, and well re.
member the pride took in protecting her
She was afraid Of everything, and ! do not be-
lieve that any soidier's heart ever lhrobbcd il
the excitement of the baule-f field with more
pleasurablc emotions than did mine when Lii,
would look to me for protection against som,
imaginary danger. Sometimes il was a rabbit
as tlmid as herself; sometimes merely a stuml
which, in her eyes, was certainly an old ant
very ferocious man; and sometimes it was bu
harmless denizen of the poultry yard walkin,
teTnTe sHy exdfcnse 5rcGrfagt 70 eI'ndAts liner
pleasure 10 my boys spiiil; but it was rca
happiness 10 feel that looked 10 for relief, al
! felt myself mon in giving II. lnu> Gu
happy childhood passed away, Wit not clou,
to obscure lis brightness, uulil Was flcel
years old and Lily twelve. Then i, WAS ihnugl
advisable that should go from home TO school
aud take my first lesson in the minds and man
nor of my feilowm,n. | shall never forget ou
grief in the separation; how Lily clung aroun
my neck, and subbed as if her ltIIe heart woul
break and how my dear father took her in hi
arms, and aughngly bade her cheer up--th'
Willy would soon come home 4 man. and sh
should be his little wife. ! saw the surprise
eyes and blushing face of the little girl. hear
ny '"'"N' hN"''y '"NkHi va u
TO the world with a new idea in my head, an
a new love in my heart. The suggestion wa
never absent from me afterwards.
| looked upon her with different eyes al
peopled dreamland with her image. We wro
TO each other and when | went home at m
vacation, | found her grown more lovely, b,
was conscious of Il change in her manner
me. In her letters she would recall old seen,
and bring up old associations, but when in a
tual presence she would avoid all renewal
them. ii wanted 10 walk, she was sure to
in an industrious mood /; if proposed priva
and confidential conversation, there was sure
be an interesting passage in some book, whic
| must read 10 her. She was ever ready vii
an excuse, some device to prevent a renewal
our old familiar intercourse. With my faith
and mother she was the same mschievous, pla
ful child, but with me she was suddenly tran
formed into the grave, dgnifed woman. III
manner puzzled, annoyed and distressed me.
1t was the day before was TO start for +.
: rope, where | must stay for two years. HI
tried in vain to find an opportunity TO tell Ii
- of my feelings towards her. With the utmc
freedom, as had been accustomed 10 do fro
child, told my mother everything. 1t W
ne my fist real sorrow. Even now feel the pre-
,ir sure of her soft had smoothing my cheeks as S
e. tried 10 comfort me. 1t would be different.
on Lily was shy; had grown so TALL and S
is. had lost my identity with the Willie of form
er- years. She advised me 10 seek an explanalic
m As left her room met Lily crossing.lbe ha
he went mp to her, and said, in playful wa
,es "Come, Lily, want you to go to walk wi
I me this last evening, We will awaken h,
me of recolleclions by stroll in the grove. M
w. go get your bonnet, and come on
ec. 'lndeed, Willie, canno, go this evenn
IRE ! am sorry to deny you, but must finish Il
,se piece Of work."
&c. was provoked, and said, almost angril
so. Lily, you are caprcious, and, almost bele'
so cold heared never did see anybody so change
The She looked at me in astonshmeut. I
/ crimson tide rushed over her neck and face
The Ill the very roots of her hair seemed set in bo'
an SIT is you who are changed" said She "Y
-. 4 u