Indiana American. [volume] (Brookville, Ind.) 1833-1861, 1857-06-19


And so on tho bright June morning
those, children have parted. Win
their life paths ever meet again? IL
was a question which neither priest,
or poet, or philosopher could have an
swered--known only to Hin who ta-
keith not counsel Of any, and who
holds in His right hand the thread Of
allhuman destinies.
Eleven years had elapsed. 1t was
q hoarse, wild evening, with stars pee
ping like pearls here and there out
Of the tangled skirts OF the wind
clouds. A solitary beam of light
went out into the darkness from the
bedroom window of Mrs. Days little
cottage, and if you could have put a.
side the single breadth Of white mus
lid, you would have seen the old lady
and her grand daughter that even
ing ~
Sweet Lilias Dayl Those eleven
years had well fulfilled the promise Of
her childhood. The fair, delicately
chiselcd features, the May-blue eyes,
and the plaits Of tho rich, shining
hair, formed altogether an exquisite
Madonna-picture, and yet there was
little pcnsiyeness about the crimson
lips which made you feel, somehow,
that tho young girls feet had come up
thro some dark shadows to the nine
teenth winter Of life.
You would hardly have recognized
Mrs. Day, those eleven years had SO
changed her appearance. Her dark
hatr was now white as December
frosts, and ii must have required a
long experience of physical infrmity
to have shrivelled those once plump
cheeks, and fnrrowed so deeply that
once placid forehead, around which
the light Of the tallow candle dimly
hickers, as she lifts her head from the
pillow and answers her grandchild-
"Lily, darling, do not speak Of that a
gain; II almost breaks my heart TO
hear you"
/" But, grandma, the youg girls
voice is low and soft, albeit there is n
little culver Of sadness running thro
it." you see, now our cottage is gone,
and the money is all spent, II is the
only way that we can live, twill be
very hard to leave you, i knew. -
Here her soft fingers were wrapped
closely in the old woman's wrinkled
ones. /" But il is oil we can do-and
then / shall come home once In every
two weeks, you know. Beside that, /
have learned from you that nothing
can degrade us, unless we degrade
ourselves; and after all you have done
for me, il is but right that now. in
your helpless old age, l should take
your p ace; don't you see, grandma2
They have advertised for girls in one
Of the Waterbury factories, and you
will not say no TO my going next
week." 80 - 81 80 = s1gi ofi %
The old lady laid back on her pill
low, and the tears fell fast down her
wrinkled cheeks, and the young girl
struggled heroically to swallow down
the great sobs that were heaving her
heart. l,.
my darling, my pet said the old
woman, lifting up her arms and draw
ing the golden head to her bosom,
chow can / let you go? How I shall
long for sight Of your blue eyes and
your bright smile, during the long,
lonely days, and when the night drops
down, / shall listen for your step, and
the sound Of your sweet voice, and
then l shall think Of you off there,
tired and sad, among strangers, who
can never feel or care for you, my
deari"
"But, grandma, "-Lilias whispered
amid thickly falliug tears =" you
know God will be there, and he can
take care of me-" af-
al know it--I know it;p the dim
eyes of the old woman kindled up
with new light" OH remember Thy
covenant with the fatherless and the
widow, and ker young feet whenthey
go out from her homelp -sa s...
And in answer TO the old woman s
prayer came a hush Of blessed peace
and love to her heart and that Of her
grandchild. z
Two weeks had passed. A young
Southern gentleman, travelling with
two of his friends through section
Of New England, and being in the vi
cinity Of Waterbury, he had visited
the city for the sole purpose of hav-
ing ocular demonstration Of the pow
or and extent'of her far famed manu-
featuring resources s''" p
Such was the brief statement fur.
nished by the trio of strangers to one