Nashville patriot. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1858-1860, 1858-06-12
Of the day had passed by, and the sea-breeze

aiOne, nef Signs, ncr attempts at speech, nef
little wilfulness, her caresses, her ceaseless
claims no my aid and attention, withdrew
me as nothing else could from constant
brooding over my loss. Later, when l could
bear it, could not, for long time-I used
to take her to the chataigneraie, where l was
wont to watch for Suzanne, and sitting there
as of old, leave her to play on the grass be-
side me, while with halfshut eyes, gazed on
the glowing spot at the end of the green walk,
dreaming, with gnawing at my heart, of
the shadow that used to cross it of the foot
step that used to come along that shaded
alley. of the pause with the hand on the
wicket Then / remembered that now not
all the yearning and craving of my soul
could, as fancied it did of old, bring her
one step nearer to me; and then my grief and
desolation would find vent in passionate
tears and the child, who was too well used to
see me weep to be alarmed, as childrec
mostly are, would climb up on my breast.
and draw my hands from below my face, and
kiss and soothe me with her sweet baby ca
resses.
1t was great though secret joy to me,
and though gentle and tractable to all. she
could be said to love no one but me. / think
the excellent pastor guessed the existence of
this feeling; for, fond as he was of the child,
and strong and natural as were his claims to
her affection, he ever avoided to put them
conspicuously forward, and no attempt In any
way to interfere with her management. Foc
this, even more than for his many other
proofs of regard and kindness, / was deeply
grateful l encouraged the child to be
familiar with him. But though she showed
Difference and duty, and even returned his
caresses, could see with secret triumph that
her heart was not in her acts. and that as
soon as she thought she ought without offence
return to me, she would glide from his knee,
and stealing to mine, nestle on my breast,
content to rest there until we were alone
again. Then the repressed spirits would
break roI ia, s.r1 chs uas once more Sivriui
and joyous.
Early in the morning would wake, and
behind the half-drawn curtain, watch her
playing, silently, lest she should disturb me,
in the dewy garden. Wandering to and fro,
with her hands crossed behind her, now
pausing before this or that flower. smelling
1t, sucking the pearled drops that lay in its
cup; then racing away suddenly, wild with
strong young life, prancing and plunging in
imitation of high mettled steed, or chasing
the kitten that was not more graceful or little
of limb than she.
And so on, till the opening of my lattice
announced that | was astir. o, the sunshine
of the radiant face. She had her mothers
wondrous eyes, but with fine fair complex
ion and warm, light brown English hair.
Then pit a-pat up the narrow staircase, came
the quick step, the door was flung open, and
in two bounds she was ON my bed, hugging and
kissing me, laughing, patting my cheeks,
laying her sweet cool face against mine and
chattering the strange mingled dialect
between the French and English. that was
sweeter in my ear than purest Tuscan.
Then off again. like a butterfly, opening
my books, putting my watch to her ear, and
looking solemnly curious at the sound; turn
ing over my clothes, scribbling wild -four
ishes on my paper with pen or pencil, and
quick as the flight of bird, away again to
Mamie, that lie grand chere," the great dar-
ling, was awake, and SO hungry, SO hungry
for his breakfast.
And so through the day, however l might
be occupied, she was never away from me for
an hour. Light and restless, like some wing
ed thing, she was to and fro, up and down in
the house and garden all the lifelong day;
dancing, singing, talking to herself when |
was too occupied to attend to her; no more
disturbing me in my busiest hours than the
sunshine that streamed in at my window, or
the swallows that built and chirped in the
caves above it. Long walks we used to take
together, h bounding by my side. now cling
ing to my hand, now sprngiag off after
wild flower or berry. till lap and arms were
full; all beaming and joyous until beggar
came in sight; then the bright face would
lengthen, the step slacken, and the small
money l always carried in my pocket to pro-
vide against such emergencies. was brought
into request and given with willing hand
and gentle words of pity and coincidence,
and for some PAGES further the little heart and
brain were yet oppressed with the impression
of the sight of suffering.
In the evenings, by the dying sunlight or
the winter fire, she would climb to my knee,
claiming a story; and, while | related some
remembered history, or improvised some
original one, there she sat, with raptured
face, gazing in mine, those eyes so full of
wondering interest, those ruby lips apart,
showing the glistening teeth; putting in now
and then some earnest question, pausing long
at the close of the narrative to muse over it
and fully digest certain points that had made
a deeper impression than the rest of the tale.
Then, as the light fell and the stiffness of
evening deepened into night, the head droop-
ed on my breast, and, like folded flower,
the blossom that frightened and perfumed
my lonely life, slept quietly while L, sad and
silent, wandered mournfully over the past
1 look back now to that period of my
life, and again it is not l whom | see sitting
there before me. 1t is one | knew, whose
Affections cares, and troubles were as my
own to me; but whose thoughts. opinions,
aud aspirations were quite other than those |
now hold, and on which l now act. The
child seemed hardly real, distinctly as L
remember every-the slightest-detail con-
lonely hours like the remembrance of some
vivid dream dreamed long ago; some vision
sent to cheer and brighten my pathway
through some long past stage of existence
that then seemed drawing on to its close.
We know so little what we can live
through and over till the present is merged
in the things that have been! till the pages
on which are inscribed in black letter the
great griefs of our lives are turned. and
81 tbat oil MI
laid over them!
Mabel hada chieved her tenth year before
had reached my thirtieth birthday; and all
that time we had never been a day separated,
had never lived any other life than the life
have been describing.
had taught her to read and write, Mamie
had taught her to sew; but other accomplish
ments she had none. Partly that strange
jealously of other interference, partly hOr-
ror / could not control of subjecting my
fairy to the drudgery of learning, made me
shrink from calling in other aid to advance
her education. 1t was better that it should
be so. l am always glad now to think that
did as had done.
Ny child had been lent me, not given. For
ten years her blessed and soothing. purifying
and holy influence was granted to tame and
save me. For ten years God spared one of
his angels to lead me through the first stages
to Heaven.
The task accomplished, He saw fit to recall
the loan.
1t is thirty years and upwards now, since
Mabel died.
have buried another wife since then. and
two fair children; and four more yet remain
to me.
They are good, dear children TO me, none
better; and handsome boys and girls too. But
they are none of them like my Nab, my lit
tie fairy queen:-and | am not sorry; il is as
well as il is.
The "Capot" is the head-dress peculiar to
La Rochelle and its neighborhood. Ii con-
sists OF a framework fixed up right on the
head round which is loosely folded q stray
some three or four yards long, and about half
yard with of clear muslin, bordered at each
edge with lace, and terminating ina rounded
end; pinned in front Considerable skill and
practice is necessary toattach the capot prop