Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1858-08-06

She looked wistfully up at me, and her
| tears began to fall.
."You have been so good, so kind !" she
murmured. "Oh, what shall do without
you?"
God bless her IF they had but left her
with me for those autumn months, and had
felt it not dishonorable to make the attempt,
she would have loved me, am sure.
When l had seated her in the coach beside
her aunt, she leaned from the window and
put back her veil.
"James.' -
turned back when heard my name, and
went up to her. There were no careless by
ISLANDERS looking on, none but those who
knew and loved her, and who were incapable
of misconstruing anything her loving heart
might make her do As stood beside her,
she put her hand upon my shoulder, and
whispered in my ear, DO not forget Lucy =
Something warmer than the sunshine, some
thing sweeter than the south wind and quite
as pure, just touched my cheek, and the stage
ratified away, and bore her from me.
| put that timd, innocent kiss away with
in my heart, and going to my room in bust
ling hotel, locked myself in for the remainder
of the day. Many years have come and
gone. and my cheek has grown pale and thin,
>
vvidly as in those first hours after had lost
her.
Who will wonder to hear me say did not
keep the promise | had made? did write
once or twice, but the letters got in return
only wrung my heart and 1T was a relief to
me when l left Woodstock, and so could let
my wanderings plead as the best excuse for
my silence. Her quiet friendship was no
return for the love that panied every fiber of
my being, and knew it was best to sever
every tie that bound me to her, at once. |
wrote the farewell dared not trust myself to
speak, and made it as cold and calm as
even her lover could have wished. Then |
went for the last time to Gan-Eden, and
spent one whole day in the places we had
loved. My last visit was to the house, which
still stood empty. / did not enter by the
usual way, but crossed the brook, from the
hill, and went round to the back ofthc house
At low window, through which Tiger
used to escape when his mistress had confined
him to the house, lest he should follow us.
stopped, and raising the sash, looked in. The
oak garlands which she had hung with her
own hands upon the walls, rustled drearily as
the cold wind blew | saw single faded
rose lying on the floor. She had worn it in
her hair on the evening Of her departure, and
iihu ecCu llCl tdhc ~ Oub anu lllTOW IL uSluc
before she tried on her hat. | had intended
to secure it then, but something had drawn
my attention away, and through all these
weary weeks it had been waiting for me, that
it might speak to me of her. Poor faded
thing | entered the room, and put the dead
rose carefully in my breast. My footsteps
made hollow sound upon the decaying floor,
and the squirrel, fat and sleek as ever, ran from
a hiding place behind the door, and vanish
ed through the window. 1t was pleasure,
at least, to think the little fellow had not
fallen into negectful hands since she had
gone. | leaped out upon the ground again,
took one long last look into the dear old room,
shut down the window, and turned away.
From that hour there was no Gan-Eden for
ME, save in my dream.
| went away to the land of gold NY for
tune was already sufficient for all my wants,
but felt that stirring and striving within
me which must be silenced, and knew no
better course to take. plunged into the
widest speculations, and bought and sold at
such daring risks that those who had known
me in my quiet and steady days, said had
pered, because success was nothing to me.
Like King Midas, every thing | touched
turned to gold-till the sight Of it became
almost hateful to me.
Now the time came when might have filled
Lucy's place, had | wished it. Beautiful
women looked kindly on the butterfly, who
would have spurned the caterpillar, But
had grown moody and reserved, and their
smiles and Establishments fell on me like sun
shine on granite. If ever sat by my lonely
freside and thought of marriage, the words
of the gentle Ella came to my mind 1.-The
children of Alice call Bertram father" and
l sighed and stirred the Goals, and let my
thoughts wander away.
1t was a selfish life, as well as n lonely one.
But one day there came change. 1t was
ushered in by a terrible illness, and suffer-
ing like unto death. When it passed | was
another man. The angel had "troubled the
waters - Hand which was not mortal had
laid me in the pool my eyes were opened,
and my infirmitics were healed. saw that
if all that could make earth glad and beauti-
full, had been taken from me, it was only
that | might learn to lay up treasure in
Heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth
corrupt, and thieves cannot break through,
nor steal. | heard the poor crying out on
every side for succor, and when | was able,
| gave it, for the sake of Him who held the
poor in loving remembrance. 1t is most
true that no good work, which is done in the
name and for the sake of God, can never lose
its reward. Even while | was thus holding
the cup of cold water to the parched lips Of
His little ones, His grace was filling my heart
with new and living light.
1t was then that first sought some tdings
of her The friend to whom wrote gave
me brief answer. She was dead Carried
away by the raging of the great pestilence
and the young husband had already filled her
place with second wife
From that day have never written her
name until now but she has always lived
within my heart. My affections are no
longer placed on the things of this world
they bud and bloom in brighter one, and |
hope one day to gather their blossoms there.
The MAN OF MANY REMEDIES. The inva lid
who takes hold of the drug list as if it were
bill of fare, and is continually changing
from one item to another like a green guest