Delaware weekly Republican. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1841-188?, 1857-03-12
From Peterson's Mdgazine..
HENRIETTA BACON.

+ CHAPTER /.

|
held In her small, delicate hands.
She had sat for a long time gazing intent,
into the bright blaze that sprang ftfuly up tn
black chimney, upon the sparks that flew cheer
lily upward still further, and then at the re'
Goals glowing beneath. 1t was a pleasant fir
"a cheerful, substantial fire, sending 1t
warmth far out into the room, but this was no
all; it boasted something more-something tina
irradiated the heart. What this peculiar pro
perty was Henrietta Bacon was striving to find
out, vague, half defined idea already ilumi
ned her mind, and had called forth the above
query.
What do you mean, childp' answered the
matter.ot-tact mother, stopping the busy whee
to supply herself with another roll.
SON, hardly know myself, mother; bu
does 1t never seem to you as if your WORK
amounted to nothing, just as if you were toe
but"
"Well, what of it 2' interrupted the mother
seeing Henrietta heSitated for words to expires:
her meaning. " ] suppose we were made tc
work; what would you and your father do if il
were not for the labor Of my hands 2''
&c know it mother. l've been thinking all
about itas sat here--how little could do, and
how 10th sometimes feel to do even that little.
Then thought ii | could work as that fire
does, it makes us warm, and somehow it makes
us happy in another way. l love to sit here
and watch it, it is just as good as a picture
those bright GOALS, can make them look like
anything please, as l do the frost on the win
dows. Don't you suppose, mother, some things
are made purposely to look at 2''
W hat strange questions-but come, you
must learn to talk and work too.''
The little girl sigued, and once moro resumed
her knitting. She remained very quiet for
some time. AT last new thought broke the
silence.
| al,
| yarn q little finer, do so like pretty stockings,
and would take such good care of them, as
fear do not always now.''
| :" am glad to hear you own your faults, my
daughter There is some hope of you yet
but you must allow me to be the best Judge of
your stocking yarn"
| The glad, hopeful expression faded slowly
from the child's face. She stopped down to
| pat the old house dog, one, two, three bright
tears fell on his neck. Just then the outer
door opened and the master of the low cottage
entered. Hewas thoroughly wet, for it was a
| rainy evening, and he had walked a long mile
from the village post office, where he had been
for the weekly paper. He took off the we'll
worn hat dripping with water, hung it on the
end ofa long pole extending nearly across the
room, and apparently made use of for various
purposes; spread his great coat on the back
of two chairs, calling upon Henrietta for the
boot7jack, he soon found himself comfortably
seated before the ample fire, where he had a
fine opportunity of warming and drying his
ample dimensions. Henrietta took her termer
place in the corner, half hoping, and yet not
expecting to hear some word of endearment
| from the newcomer.
Mr.. Bacon was person of ardent feelings,
but belonged to that M staken class who think
| it denotes weakness of character to express
any warmth Of emotion. So they both sat mute,
father and daughter, each feeling that that un-
] social homo circle lacked much to make it a
lit a tail, tailow caadio sunk deer in its lISn
4 socket, pulled out the round tablo, placed
| there on three blue-edged plates, lot OF beans
and some cold biscuit--a cup of hot tea being
the only luxury indulgod in. Henrietta took
her accustomed place, " The beautiful and the
useful,' murmured she, half aloud.
"What did you say :" interrupted her father.
'sDid you speak Z"
| 81 say am not hungry tonight" answered
the little girl, and pushed back her chair
She kneeled down by the old house dog, who
looked pitifuly into the face OF his young m is
tress, as if he understood it all.
"You,' said Mr.. Bacon, addressing his wife,
as he finished his supper. Neither had spoken
during the short meal. Sc saw Mr.. Tsmpkns
tonight, the thrashers will be here early in the
morning."
"Eariy in the morning ~ repeated Mrs. Ba-
con, '' what shall have for breakfast i'
"Oh, pick up something, You are good for
that" said he, bestowing one of those satisfied,
happy expressions that so tell on a good wife's
heart. The answered look told him he had
nothing to fear, for ifever woman could cre-
ate victuals and clothing from apparently
nanght, Mrs. Bacon was the one.
| Perhaps our readers may conclude from the
above remarks that Mr.. Bacon was poor man;
in one respect he was, in another far from it
out OF debt, owning large farm of two humid
red acres should have made him independent.
| Mr. Bacon iabOred hard, folio wing in the foot
steps of the reyered paront, from whose hands
it had passed into his own. He made an hon
est livelihood, but nothing as yet had been laid
by against day of need modern improve
ments he looked upon as so many humbugs,
nor would he dispose Of a single acre, though
| twice the value of it had been repeatedly Off
cred. 81 can but barely live now,' he would
| often say to his wife twhat could do with
a smaller farm ~ OF course it was not more
than half titled; white weed choked his grass,
| lean cattle filled his hovel, fences went unre-
paired, and the rudely constructed cottage was
fast losing its respectablity. Thus stood Mr..
Bacon's affairs at the commencement OF our
story We will now return to Henrietta.
"Ideclare - said the mother, as she got up
to wind the clock before retiring, sc is that all
you have done this long EVENING" Why,
could have knit twice as much in half the time.
| You may stir up some hot cakes for breakfast !;
blow out the light-you hear and don't go to
reading.'' With these words ringing in her
ears more strangely tonight than ever before,
| Henrietta was left to her lonely meditation.
8" The beautiful and the useful cannot go to-
| gether," solioquized she. cas- nay father and
| mother have pledded, so must /. 1t is not that
care for the work, could knit forever if /
could only weave into being, with each added
round, leaf or flower, l could sew, if 1 might
but learn to embrOider such fairy figures as
edge grand ladies' collars; | could brush and
scrub, sweep and dig if could only go deep
enough to find beauty. Oh, had rather die,
die, die, than to live so, and buryi her face
in her hands, she wept long and bitterly. AT
last, brushing back the tear stained masses of
hair, she rose, pushed back the dark curtain
that shaded one of the narrow windows, and
with Eer cheek pressed to the col glass, looked
out upon the night. The scene was one that
harmonzed well with her own feelings. The
rain had ceased falling but the clouds, he wy
and black, were angriy chasing each other
across the leaden-hued sky.
The dead leaves whrled and fluttered about
the door: now and then gurgling drop fell
| from the low caves. The picture was a dreary
one. The curtain fell back heayiy-with
troubled brow and tagging step Henrietta crept
| up the rickcty stairs to her little chamber
| But what brings back the sunny smile7 On a
rude shelf, beneath the small window, stands
broken piece of crockery, and from the rich
earth which it contains, all unmindiul of the
deformities that surround it, springs bcauti-
full tea-rose loaded with blossoms. &c Mine, all
mine,'' cried the little one, stopping down to
kiss and admire the treasure. She passes her
fingers over the velvet petals-dreamiy she
gazes upon the rich clusters, oh, ga thing of
beauty is joy ferever;' the sentiment filled
her whole heart, changed entirely the tenor of
her thoughts. g Dear Karl gave me this,' she
murmured. =" / remember he told me if l
waited patiently, it would one day repay me for
all my care, and that must he like the beautiful
ros that would burst from these buds-that l
must make those around me happy by cheerful