Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1858-09-30

:. But youth is ever hopeful, espeeiall
when it has few pounds in its pocket. S
Frank continued to write cheerful letter
to Lucy, and in return received the mos
afectionate ones; but to her repe Ited in
quiry "whether he had settled down." b
always returned an evasive answer.
His second literary effort was a novel
which met the same fate as his learned
composition. Then he betook himself to les
pretentious sources, and failed in them all
Occasionally he earned a few pounds
which inspired him with hope for time;-
but at the end OF couple of years he wa:
almost penniless. In despair he accepted
an offer TO be amauuensis to blind author
but the latter suddenly dying, in a short
time, he was thrown on the world home.
less, tattered and destitute He was seen
no more by any of his metropolitan ac-
quaintances. f7a@t o"
So much for the man who came to Lon
don without a profession or an aim, and
rot possessed of any experience or natural
gift for his selected calling; for authorship
not only requires preparatory special
training, but large share OF that csmmo-
tdty, which. il not precisely talent, is a
blending of ability, with unabashed CON-
-fdence. But Frank was only one among
thousands who enter the metropolis with
bright hopes aud high aspirations, with the
certainty of having them scorched and
blighted. Success in any department OF
lie requires espaciIy for it, and a plant
adaPtability to Gil cumstances as they rise.
Genius will force its way anywhere; but
mediocrity must be trained to follow some
peculiar calling, and that alone. Like. the
shadow on the sun dial, it must 60 its allot-
ted round. SEQ "a, ys-z.- --.
And what Of Lucy all this while1 The
poor lonely girl had no very ambitious Wis
ions OF the future. She was practical lit
tie body; and instead of saying what she
was to do. or what she should like to do,
she asked hersef, "Wh hat can ] do!" We
commend this wisdom to all young per-
sons. 1t is one IF the secrets OF success in
life.
"What can do!" she thoue hit. 81 can
teach children and | can sew--well, wha'
better can DO than thisl-I can DO it, and
will"
So, smoothing her rich auburn hair, and
arraying herself in her neatest attire, she
waited upon the rector's wife, and to her
~ was promised every assistance. The
good lady went round among the villagers,
and in less than month Lucy had twenty
chubby faced little children for scholars,
and the promise of more. She also took in
plain needlework, and having diligently
studied the higher branches of the art,
soon began to have orders from ladies' in the
who admired her for her in
dustry and praprieiy of conduct. In the
course of year her business increased, Ind
a. the end Of two years more was so flourish
ing. that she was obliged to have assist
ants, and transfer her school to young
who, like herse f, had been left to
make her own way in the world.
Chow rich ! am gcting!" she innocently
one summer evening. "What a
nice surprise for Frank! wonder he don't
have been sure 10 let me know if he was
Perhaps he is so busy that he has not time
to write to me. will send him long
sweet letter, and post it myself"
Lit e did she kiop that at that moment
Frank was approaching the village, way
worn, haggard, hungry, and almost shoe
less.
In the morning, as was susual with her,
Lucy looked out ol the window tor the post
nan, and as the window commanded a view
oi the churchyard she observed meanly-
clad person leaning on the sun-dial, appa-
-ently deeply absorbed. Surprised at such
an occurrence, for the villagers were by no
means addicted TO such contemplate she
regarded him with great attention..
Some poor highway Pilgrim she thought;
'if he comes this way ! will give him Ealf-
a-crown for Franks sake, for it was there
we par ed. But ] had better send it." And
forthwith calling her maid-of-all- Oor
Lucy Dixon now kept servanD she des-
patched her with the coin.
. Frank Webster--for as the reader may
have guessed it was he-was leaning on
the pillar in a sad reve.ie. seq
MY words we're prophetic" he said to
himself; "my destiny is but destiny; it
began and is ended; and there is an end Of
it Shadows begin at nothing and end at
nothing. Three times three hundred and
sixty-fige suns has this dali recorded, and
yet there is the shadow stiIl-silent, sombre
slowly moving as ever. So with myself,
have gone the round of the years, and
have come back only to gaze on the symbol
Of my own fate. Roll, on, shadow time
and tide to thee are as nothing. Thy dumb
authority ends whe re it began, and begins
where il ended
While he was thus morbidly meditating,
a giri addressed him. saying, "Please sir,
uissus sent you tLis,' anG she presented
hali-a crown.
Gains! - he cried, as the red blood mantl-
ed his forehead, stake it away!
His look frightened the girl, SO, throwing
down the coin, she scampered away.
"And has ii come 10 this," he groaned,
"and on this spot, too, sacred to the memory
OF my happiest days! Oh, Lucy, dear Lucy,
may you never know the misery that has
fallen on me :"
He was about TO hasten away wien the
girl returned, saying her mistress did moi
mean TO affront the gentleman.
"Who is your mistress" he asked.
"Miss Dixon sir" replied the girl.
"Miss wko" shouted Frank Webster.
Miss Dixon. the milliner," salG the girl.
"Lucy Dixon" exclaimed Frank, inter
negatively -. -