The star of the north. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1849-1866, 1857-08-12
From, the Kniekerboeker.
THE WIDOW LEEDOM'S LAST LOAF.
BY MARY E. rHRorp, OF VALLEY roRor, PA.

"Calm and deep peace is this wide air,
These leaves that redden TO the fall;
Aud in one heart if calm al all,
If any calm, calm despair.
"Calm on tue seas. and silver sleep
Aud waves that sway themselves in rest,
And deep calm in that noble breast,
Which heaves but with the heavirg Deep"
1smlyson.
II was evening" beautiful autumn even.
ing. The red leaves yet danced, rejoicing
in the mild air; the yellow sunshine yet gild-
ed the hill tops, and the soft shadows were
creeping silently up the valley, as the gentle
widow Leedom. with her child in her arms,
wended her way homeward. She was tired,
for she had toiied oil day in farmer Woods
kitchen, and though it was Saturday even
ing, she had not been paid for her labor
The kind hearted house maid at Farmer
Woods h ad urged her 10 wait for her supper,
but she thought of her lilllo hungry ones a,
home, anG she could not stay. She had no
eye for the glory of that superb October sun
set as she walked weariIy on her tired arms
scarcely able 10 hold the little joyous creature
that laughed and crowed, and ever and anon
peered into her bonnet, lisping his sweet
toned "mamma, mamma" She thought
only of her expectant little ones, and the
means OF obtaining bread for them to last
over Sunday. AS she neared the village,
she seemed irresolute whether 10 enter il or
pass or; but vision of her lonely, fasting
children, rose up before her in Imagination,
and she stopped, her lips moved a momen,
or two as If in prayer, and then quickening
her step, and hurrying on like one who has
nerved herself to sudden resolution, she
turned into the main street, and was soon
standing belore the counter of the bakers
shop. The bakor was an austere man, but
it was not in human nature 10 resist the
Widows pleading tone and touching expres-
sion as she talleringly asked him 10 trust her
TO loaf of bread for day or two. The man
handed the loaf reluctantly, and was about
TO insist no prompt payment, when glance
at the Widows painfully flushed face and
embarrassed manner deferred him. With
scarcely audible thanks, she concealed the
loaf under her tatteIed shawl, and drawing
her babe closer TO her bosom, fastened
home.
"Moher's come m Others come !" cried
couple Of young, eager voices, as she enter
ed the gate, and her seven year old Robert
and his little sister came running TO meet
her. They were pretty children. The little
Mary inherited her mothers mild blue eyes
and delicate complexion, and The boy his
fathers handsome face and honest brown
eyes. Poor children, they were accustomed
10 being lel. alone, for the widow went out
to work daily, and the night was always
| welcome that brought their mothers loved
| return. They had thousand things 10 ask
and tel which fell unheeded this time on the
ear of The sad mother, though she Instructive
ly answered them yes and no as occasion
required. She gave the loaf 10 Robert, aud
taking little Mary's hand, they entered the
house together. The table was already set
out by the little expeclant housekeepers, but
there was nothing on ii that could be con-
strued into anything eatable save cup of
molasses and some salt. The mother cut
slice of bread for each of her half famshed
children, and sat quietly by nursing the
youngest while they ate it, tor she had no
heart 10 ca, herself. She was very sersow-
ful as she looked at those little dependent
beings and thought of failing strength, and
shading her eyes with her hand, the tears
stole silently down her pale, patient face, and
fell among lhe bright curls of the little uncon-
scious head pillowed so peacefully on her
bosom. She had been sorely afflicted. The
husband Of her youth had been stricken
down by falling beam, while attempting 10
save sick child, that had been overlooked
in the hurry and panic from burning build
ing. The child was saved. but he who per-
ied h,s life for it, The strong, brave hearted
man had perlshed. The fruit OF this unioE,
her eldest born, the pride of her heart, the
noble boy whose every movement and ex-
preston had been so many smiles of his
buried father, was wanderer she new not
wilher.
Years after the boy had left her, when
Robert Leedom came often 10 see her in her
loneliness, and veniured TO tell her at length
how he had loved her from the lime they
had played together at school, and hoN ne
had remained single for her sake, and came
back always TO the same old port that he
might breathe again the same air that she
brsathed, and besoueht her to lei him sustain
and shield her, to comfort her in sickness
and sorrow, she gladdened the honest sailors
faithful heart by conserving to become his
wife. No wonder The young sailor loved
her, she was so neat in her habits, so gentle
and industrious; and her calm, eweet face and
holy eyes sbone with 'ihe beauty that dwet
in her soul. She had learned 10 love her
second husband, and had borne HIM three
fair children, when the sad news came that
the gallant vessel in which he had sailed,
was wrecked oil the dangerous coast near
Absecom. and in his generous efforts 10 save
others, Robert Leedom was lost. She had
been a widow the second time only six