Litchfield enquirer., 1857-07-09

t'SiSAA dinner, engaged--notwithsta his many Virtues, we must confess it--in smoking. But no man is perfect. Kapten Hjalmar's eyes are so intently fixed on the vacant seat of the porch opposite to him, that one might imagine he IS neditating the practicability of having a rss-a-ras in his delightful occupation but men do look so uninterestng when they are putting smoke in each others faces-and the Swedes do so with such polite compIacency--that own l would rather see the other seat of that pretty porch occupied by some oue who would prohibit the practice altogether. Whether the solitary Kapten knows what passes in his observers thoughts or not, he appears to act somewhat in accordance with those thoughts he rises, throws away the halfsmoked cigar as if resolving never to smoke another the movement is so energetic, that he must be ta King resolution and hs goes into the house calls the active young woman who, with hel husband, forms its cstablshment--and telling her he is going northward to hunt, and will not be back for some days, slings knapsack over his shoulder, takes a stick in his hand and sets out towards the distant mountains, whose heads rise above the dark foreground of forest lying between tliem aud him.
 Captain Hjamar is by no means fighty or inconsideratc person he said he was going to hunt : horse is not required for that in Swe- den, but gun or dogs usually are and Hjal- mar has neither. In fact. a letter, which the Stockholm post brought him two hours previ- ously, appeared to be 8 more necessary accom- paniment to his hunting expedition than either of these /; it was mere lengthy scraw! iron, a brother officer, who sent him the gossip of the capital to amuse his solitude. A Swede seldom thinks of riding except for half-hour's gallop, just to tire horse, and bring him in again. It answered the captains purpose to go on foot, rather than to take his gig but it was a tedious walk, more especially as towards the close of the following day. torrent of rain commenced. Evening had drawn on when he emerged from the gloom of the monotonous fir-forest, close to the banks of pretty lake, On the opposite side stood a ccmfortable-look- ing red wooden house, at the back and one side of which were seen all the evidences of tol- erably thriving farm. The fire had been just kindled to dress the evening meal the large logs crackled and sparkled on the open hearth, their blaze danced in the many windows; and through the open door revealed an inviting scene to the wet and weary pedestrian, who came slowly over the soft grass that lay be- tween the house and lake, In this r,gion, dur ing summertime. the words spoken of better land may apply There is no night there The ght is not like that of the sun, nor yet of the moon it is something between both light of poetry and dreamincss. But this evening torrent of rain drew the mountain mists into the pretty vale, and the unusual gloom without rendered the interior of the red wooden house more distinct, lighted up as it was by the blazing logs on the elevated brick hearth, while it concealed the person of the spy who, wi.h the top of his stick pressed hard on his lips stood seemingly breathless at the porch.
 He saw the kitchen was occupied only by two women--an old and young one The first was preparing the supper the girl was sitting at the spinning wheel--an implement which, banished from other lands, fnds refuge and employment in almost every Swedish home the small hands and little foot were quite busy at work but tie pleasant hum stopped, and, looking towards the old woman, as she bent over the hearth the spinner re- piled to what had been said Yes, mother, it was hard, very hard at first, for you see I was not used to it had forgotten all the old ways, ard had learned heap of things, and a great many habits that were just of no use up here and then; ack yes, mother knows one must think sometimes and perhaps I was a little dull, and seemed not quite as if l were at home here that goes better now.'
 My hearts child 7 said the mother, thou hast always been good and kind, and clever toe and going or staying, thou shalt have thy mothers blessing
 But, mother, now that finders is married, thou wilt not live here longer, think. Thou wilt come with me, mother, where I can do more than l can do here will work for thee then, and thou shalt rest
 An, child dear, 1 thank thee-heartily do 1 thank thee but see now, my girl how this is Tour ssnted father brought me here when We first married he was good man to me, and a good father too He died here, dear, and was buried not so very far off in the parish church yard. Now, if our Lord SC please, 1 will die here too, and will be buried with him, where he lies in our church yard and so will l therefore live out my days hero aso.'
 Then I will stay here too, mother-stay till God takes you to heaven said the girl and bent her head on the spindle, pressing hel cheek on its soft burden; perhaps to wipe off { tear.
 Gods peace ? said rather husky voice, entering the door, with salutation not quite out of fashion among the countryfolk of Sweden The old woman looked up to return it, and utter the customary word to the guest Be welcome But the young one uttered low cry, sprang forward, and Hjalmar's arms caugh her to his breast There were no uuestiOn asked, no explanation given the kiss he pres sed on her forehead told her al-she was be loved, forgiven, happy. To find her there wa enough for him. And wet. dripping wet, ran in Anders ant his red checked bride from their out door em ployments. shaking their clothes, laughing, aas complaining.