The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1857-01-15

aware, had let two or three tears fall upon
the pages of the lady's book, which l had me-
chanically picked up, and held in my hand.
glanced at her in fright, but she did not
notice them she only put out her hand, closed
the book, and looked towards the minister Ny
eyes followed hers. 1t was the same kind man
who had laid his hand on my head in blessing,
at Ollie's funeral, and though understood very
little Of what he said, liked to look at him, and
sat very still and quiet through the sermon.
When the service was over, and the lady put
on my bonnet, the lilac was missing. She-held
,,c cut thea she tool. tie veil, lat thro71E.
i over my shoulders, led me By the hand down
tho SOD.
What made you cry?" she asked. in low.
pleasant voice, as we entered the porch.
] was thinkin of Ollie, ma'am."
"Olie where is he?''
There, ma'am;" and pointed to his grave,
ct no great distance, to the east of the church.
"Aunty!" said the young boy, turning his
fair, handsome face towards her, and speaking
eagerly, " don't you remember that | spoke to
you about seeing lame boy and a little girl
down at the pond last summer, when we were
here? This is the same girl"
And the boy is dead ~ said the lady.
Yes, Yam"
Whose child are you? Where do you
liye?'
The last question was easily answered.
With Sally Hunt, at the pond"
'1s she your MOTHER"
NO; ha'nt got no mother
Who is your father, then ?"
| hesitated and she repeated the question
don't know" | said. Mrs. Sally alters
says I'm child of Satan"
The boy seemed inclined to laugh, but the
lady's grave look checked him, and she added,
still as kindly as before
VIII you tell me your name?"
"Ierlina Day, ma'am; and, added, proud
that there was anything l could tell her, point
ing to the graveyard, "my grandfather is there,
too, and he died on the town, as Mrs. Sally
says | will"
She stood silent a moment then, seeing the
people locking back at us curiously, she led me
along toward the street, saying
" Do you know the place called Fernside
Cottage?"
Yes, ma'am. It's over the hill, below Bill
Williams's place"
dyes. l live there at present. Will you ask
the person with whom you live to LET you come
there some day? l shall be glad to see you
readily promised and stood ap1 watched
them until they turned the cornef By John
Averys store, then, with one glance at Ollie's
grave, turned my steps hOmeward.
But did not return as lightly as had come.
That veil troubled me. l knew had no bust.
ness to take it. | thought the lady must have
been aware Of this, when she looked at it so
gravey. / feared to meet Mrs. Sally's eve
and before | reached home, took it from my
shoulders, and held it in my hand behind me.
watching an opportunity TO step into the house
unobserved. thought | had found one, for
Mrs. Sally came ont and passed roGnd the cor
ner of the shed. | ran through the gateway.
turned the corner of the raain building, and
1.-THE, sppie spront &c IN n ne. isac5 She haa lsng
ceeded to lay on my shoulders without further
ceremony.
had long since learned the uselAssress of
attempting to dodge, and now, intent on con-
cealing the veil, stood and took the lashes in
silence.
There, madam! " she cried, as she paused
for breath, "neXt time you take it into your
head to run away, you can have as much more
OF the same sort
What was it that moved me at that moment
to draw forth the veil, and confess nv fault?
Was it the kind lady's words, or the poor Grip
Piled Ollie's spirit, pleading at my heart to
choose the right? do not knows bUt drew
forth the veil, and said, very respectfully and
as steadily as 1 could, for the pain
You said l might go, bat ! know it was
wrong for me to take the veil. You can whip
iae for that, if you choose, as much as you are
a mind to-"
" And | will whip you within an inch of your
life you good-for nothing little bag What
business had you to touch one of my things ?"
she cried; IS she jerked the veil from my hand
q Where have yog been?'
" To meetin' "
" To meetin' to meetin' In that rlg -"
i" OF said might 90, ma'aml"
" It's lie! / never said such q word an
you know it! !"
e You did, ma'am. You SAID but
never finished my sentence. She dropped her
switch, caught me by the shoulders, aud shook
ne until my teeth ohattered in nv head.
" There she cried, as she let me go, and
pushed me reeling toward the house. "TeH
me that lie, viii you Into the house with
you. guess you won't want to go to meetin
again IN a hurry
" Hilo old lady! You seem to be havin'
lime of it What's the row." and Tom Hunts
burly figure appeared in the door.
" She's been to meetin'. Ask her." sneered
Mrs. Sally, as she stalked after me.
And this is a part of the blessin Is'pose,
mother, you haven forgot your old knack, iudg-
n by the way you lay it on. Well, some is
nome, and it's all the same in the long run.
But, Madam Parson, if you've been to meetin',
'upposin' you give us piece Of the sermon; "
and he caught me by lock of hair, and pulled
ne after him into the house.
" No kickin', miss. Your pious people never
zickl"
did kick, and strike too, for the good spirit
was gone. | could bear blows from Mrs. Sally.
but neither the touch nor the ridicule of this
man and, jerking away from him, flung my
seti upon the floor, and screamed aloud.
is it any woader that did not see the kind
ladys face again-that i never made known
her request? Any wonder that / forgot nv
promise to Ollie /? No, not forgot it, but de- |
SPARED Of keeping it, and thought bad thoughts,
and said bad words-tkat l almost deserved the
epthet Tom Hunt bestowed upon me- of " lit. |
tie devil"
Indeed, l might have quite deserved it, had |
it not been for that one angel which God had
set over me. He would not quite leave me to
myself.
Tom Hunt was often ct home this summer, !
and, very soon after the scene have described, |
Mrs. Sally said she must GO to New ] ork, too. |
What to do with me was the question. She |
would be absent some days; she would not
ask Mrs. Smith to take me home, she was
ODt t" with that person that is, her capricious. |
Jealous temper was always finding some cause |
for quarrel with the neighbors, and there would
be weeks and months during which she would !
not speak to person, though no one but her
self would know the cause of her anger, I'M
less, az sometimes happened, it was so hot as
10 boil over; then, 30 to the offender who
to be in her way. When che was
out" with Mrs. Smith, she was doubly in"
9th Mrs. Grant; but the latter had her sick
laughter &c look aftsr, and did not like to be
bothered with children. At last, suggested
Steve Leete's. She caught at the idee. Polly
Maria had asked her to let me come ana see