The Council Bluffs nonpareil. [volume] (Council Bluffs [Iowa]) 1857-1867, 1859-11-19
SHADOWS AND NsHINE

/ The June roses were in bloom when my
father died, and before they were all gone.
our cottage home was closed, and |, 4 pen
nless orphan had found shelter beneath the
roof of a distant relative Of my mother.
/ Everything in and about the house wa,
bright, and grand and gay verythng bu'
me. | did not wOnder-indeed 1t WAS ii
deep relief, when Mrs. Etheridge suggested
to me the propriety of remaining in my own
apartment. or in the library. during the
first month of mourning The gaiety below
accorded lily with my feelings, and was
thankful to leave it for the solitude Of my
own room. The father, whose death haJ
left me thus alone in the world. had been to
me guide, counsellor, friend and parent
from my eariy childhood, until this, my
eighteenth summer, and when the support
was gone, for the first time realized how
perfectly had trusted to it.
The apartment which | was tofall ny
own was large, airy and well furnii led, fol-
Mrs. Etheridge. with fortune q more
than half million. had no need tosbe mig
.iardly in the appointments of her estab
gshment.
Mrs. Etehridge was widow, with fami
ly of four daughters, al. older than L.
They we're CAV. handsome girls, living such
life as | had often read Of, but never
agined possible in real life. They took
no notice of the pale, sorrowful stranger,
who was forced upon their society, except
ing such notice as common pollteness re-
auired. They always breakfasted in bed,
some hours after my day began, and We
only met at dinner. when there were always
one or more guests. From this one daily
meeting, l was after few days excused,
and allowed to dine with Miss Briggs, the
seamstress, and Mrs. Barnes, the house
keeper, at an hour which was nearer the one
to which had been accustomed.
1t was point was not long in learning,
that the moro aloof kept from the family,
the more satisfied they would be, and the
happier |.
Time never hung heavy on my hands. In
deed the days were far too short for the
accomplishment of all | wished to do
Ever since my earliest childhood music had
been my passion. In our little parlor, we
we had hapschord, once my graudmother's
afterwards my mothers then mine. On
this learned to play, without a teacher,
and in the evening twilights, when my
father, tired with his days study-he was
o clergyman lay stretched upon his lounge,
l would sit and play the thoughts that filed
my brain until often, he would raise him
self, and resting his head on his hand, say
tenderly.
"You play wonderful music, Dora, won.
derful music ~
Sweet praise from his lips so dear!
In the school-room at Mrs. Etheridge's
there was a piano forte, the one on which
her daughters learned to play, and here
had liberty to practice as much as pleased.
This was generally from FIVE to eight hours
daily, for i. was my purpose to teach music,
and thus be independent. My proud ma
ture shrank from such life as | was
leading.
With my mind fully bent on carrying ou,
this plan, it was not strange that improved
Sometimes | was astonished at my own
progress, and longed to have q good musi-
clan hear me play. wanted somebody to
tell me what was wanting. or wherein
failed-some one who would give me just
criticism or just praise.
But alas Miss Briggs and Mrs. Barnes
we're my only auditors, and both said it was
all beautiful, no matter what played
The only real comfort had with them wa.
one evening. when poor little Miss Briggs
sat and cried in the corner full hour.
because nv music carried her away back
into the country, where she lived when she
was little girl!
Dear, simple woman! She did not guess
that l, sitting at the instrument the while
and with dry eyes, was living over again 9
happy past. in the music my own sligh
fingers made.
! A Atwelvementh passed thus. 1t was Jun'
again, and Mrs. Etheridge and her daugh
! ter. were mapping out their summer tour
| They were worn out with the designations oI
the fashionable season, and yet eagerI,
! looking forward to the ceming gaities, a