The weekly north Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1857-1867, 1858-04-14

really not indispensable"
"The camellia ! the beautiful camel
lia"
Little Jenny stood quietly by her sis
ter's chsir. while she bowed her head
upon hef hands and wept. The child
knew how anxiously Agnes had watch
ed it's gradual growth-how tenderly
she had cherished the pure bud, until it
now had blossomed into the perfect
flower. 1t seemed almost like one of
their little family, and Jenny tried hard
to keep back the binding tears. At
length Agnes looked up:
II am very foolish. Jenny I know it
is wrong, but indeed. I could not help
it. You are right. dear-we must have
a morsel Of bread, and all these luxuries
must go 10 purchase it. But, oh Jenny,
when We have sold our little singing
bird-"
And Agnes fairly burst into tears
again.
But it did not last long-it was over
almost before Jenny could stroke back
the golden brown hair, with her soft,
childish hands.
"Put on your bonnet, Jenny. and see
what you can do. Here is your shawl
stay, let me pin it securely, for it is
chilly evening. But who will buy a
camellia-where will you go?"
Il will 60 and sit on the steps at
Stewart's, where I sell my flowers
The beautiful ladies come and go there
in their rich dresses. and some one will
buy the camellia, I am sure, for it is so
lovely p
Jenny spoke promptly and cheerfully,
for she was of bright, hopeful nature.
Her beautiful sister stopped to kiss her
forehead, silently, and then, going to
the window, she took the magnificent
flower from its simple shrine. in the
sunset light, and stood for moment
with her brow bent down over its emer-
aid leaves, and when she raised her head
she left a short, earnest kiss upon the
white blossom. and sparkling tear in
its pure folds
And so little Jenny Carlisle crept
forth. bearing the beautiful plant. with
the fragrance of her sisters gentle kiss,
and the baptismal dew of the tear drop
still lowering around its bloom.
How gloomy the narrow room appear
ed, when child and flowers were gone !!
How sadly the gray shadows Of twilight
came down over the path Of the red,
bright sunset! Agnes dropped her
head on the vacant spot where the plant
had stood, and sighed, oh SO sorrow
fully
He gave it to me =" she murmured,
between bursts of low weeping "he
gave it to me. year ago, and told me
it was like my own beauty. l was a
rich heiress then, with diamonds fash
ing on my bosom. and sparkling jewels
in my hair; and l thoug int he loved me.
though he never said so in words. And
then he vent across the sea to his Eug-
lish home--what was it he said about
returning to claim the bright American
blossom TO gladden. his stately halls p
Then came my fathers death-and rain
and bankruptcy. and now am alone
all alone with poor Jenny in the wide
world. and even my beautiful camellia
is gone! l loved it because he had
given it to me I loved it because his
hand had touched its glittering
leaves y
She rose hurridly. and walked up and
down the room with her small hand
pressed tightly to her brow.
Il am sure it was he that passed me
in the crowd the other day. with proud
woman by his side. He did not look in
my direction-I did not even see his
splendid eyes, but I remembered how
lie used to bend his stately head to hear
my girlish words, and it was thus he
was listening to her voice. Ihave passed
away from his memory. like dream
Oh !! if could but learn to forget!"
She was white and calm, even them
the woman's pride was strong in her
throbbing beast. and she stood with
the port Of queen, before the vacant
| window.
LET the poor blossom go-it is but a
living memory Of the dead love! And
yet. It was very dear to me ! When l
looked at it's green luxuriance. it spoke
to me of woods and hills-I could al
most see the forests in their crimson
autumnal robes. with golden leaves
huttering softly down upon the velvet
moss beneath Oh! when shall ever
see them again -
The maiden paced her little room.
with trembling, agonized manner.
which reminded you Of some fair. tropi
cal bird. beating its wings wildly against
the relentless bars Of it's cage. Alas +!
it was a dark shadow which had fallen
on her young life.
Little Jenny sat patiently on the mar
bic steps Of that lofty temple of fashion
in Broadway, with the magnificent white
camellis besile her. waiting for a Gus
toner. People stopped to gaze upon the
curious pair. as they went by: wrinkled
business men now peered through their
specsacles. and forgot Wall street for a
moment, and sauntering ladiea looked
back, even after they had passed the
spot. But still no one spoke to her. and
the hope grew dim in her heart, even as
the red sunset began 10 fade in it's vivid
glow along the West.
Just then party Of ladies swept
forth. in silks and laces, and nodding
plumes. and one of them stopped to adj
mire the blossom.
"Oh. what an exquisite camellia -
Only look, mamma. Is it not lovely :?
Oh. l must have it for tomorrow
night"
She was stately creature. with large.
black eyes. and shining bands OF jetty
hair ; hers was royal. imperial style
Of beauty. and the rich velvet mantle
round her throat. and the scarlet roses