Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1859-08-31
WRITTEN ron THE SrnIT OF THE AsE.
The DruRkard's Daughter
CHAPTER
BY SARAH J. c. wHITTLEsEY.

ePoor tbingin an
Ny heart echoed the words as / looked at lau
the object Of the speakers compassion. She =
was miserably mangled, and her coarse gar we
ments crimsoned with the dark tide that drt
flowed from the wounds, while groans and My
sobs mingled with the screams of the fright col
ened little ones clustered around her.
"Hellol what's the fuss p squeaked the ha
cracked voice. Of an elderly gentleman, with rel
an astonishing circumference, and head so
that it looked ashamed of being set up FL
on the conspicuous end of so big a body. His W.
short legs seemed indignant at the little pro-
gress they were only capable of making at no
each successive stretch, and as if to make of
amends for the narrow space to which they CT
were limited by nature, they piled with a We N
llocity that brought him to the spot, putting Ell
and blowing like a steam engine. K
In spite Of the sad spectacle of the woun-
ded woman and weeping children, a sensation n
out of character with the time and place was n
aroused in the most sensitive region under c
my blue cape. never could forbear smiling a
at a rotund piece of humanity in big trowsers, j
with a short neck swallowed up by a NAM
moth coat collar, with a small breastpin in a
wide frill, and watch chain, like the Atlantic
cable, swinging far below his last vest button,
with a handful of heavy seals, keys and peach
Iseed baskets, nicely wrought out with a pen
knife, dangling at the end, in the ample folds
lof his double-fall pants. Pm always remind
ed, on beholding a corpulent frame of bones
and sinews, of the I~sraelites whining for the
4a--a-pvvs Of Egypt a
sThrown from the wagon-Ieg broke-l
horse skeered by q drunken beast-going to
= market-she's done for"-were snatches of
information, gathered from the increasing
crowd, as Julia and l turned away from the
awful scene, and resumed our evening walk.
She was silent and deathly pale, as we rom
ded the corner of the city garden, and procee-
ded slowly towards the green banks of the
shining Potomac. =
She was very beautiful-just eighteen, and
an orphan. | wondered, secretly, as watch
ed her white, lovely face, and large, burning
black eyes. l thought of the Poetic senti-
ment-"a heart to feel for others woe" as |
observed her sorrow shaded, marble-like brow,
and small, compressed mouth, about which
quivered an expression of acute pain.
do you suffer so deeply for others misfor-
tune ~ l asked with assumed lightness.
yrs the little monosyllable was firm as
granite and icy as the North Pole.
l marvelled at the strange air and tone of
the girl
IF you grieve for every calamity you wit
ness in your life-march, you'll have your
: hands full, and soon be ina strait-jacket with
{ your black curls cut short off"
"And sooner the better. Lunacy is a night
Of years, and maniacs sleep through it, free
c from all sorrow"
If I crushed down my CONSERVATION, anc
suited my tone to the necessity of the case
II don't know about that-and if it wer'
true, l hope the Lord will permit me to wall
into the unknown land across the mountain
q of mortality, with the eyes of my intellec
wide open, and not 90 stumbling through tn
y dark. Eternity is too long, to think wit
n complacency of tumblipg into it withou
k first looking through the spyglass of full cor
e. seriousness, and knowing precisely wher
we're going to land when W e let go the COZ
70 dage Of life's ship, and drop to the deck
y the broad Beyond. Let me suffer every POI
Sc Sible torture here, rather than slumbe
through the voyage across the life-ocean, ar
then wake up at o strange port without ha
70 ing made preparation for a secure landing {
he the sunny side of a foreign country, and iii
myself on a strange shore where there are
liabilities w:gE----sSS- - pacoeVFdig
We on to heaven-mine isn't-and if | must 81
yic fer awhile in a middle state to be refined / al
tried by fire. let me put off the evil day al
suffer all in purgatory-not here"
re HIM l don't believe in but two purgat
al ries-one is terrestrial and the other eternI
70 If the broad-axe of Death is laid to the 70
ola crooked tree, on earth, it won't be straigi
We. ened out after it falls, if my Bible is trr
and | wish to retain the line and plummet
consciousness, to train my spirit by, ere t
od night cometh when no man can work."
~ 81 know our religious faith differs, FL
" ence, but our hearts are alike-time has e
1il- denced that"
nd Eyes, | love you just as we'll as though
had been christened at the same font, a
u taught by the same Gamaliel. 1t is impos
he hla thof oil cho,,ld fb,pI alba eror, tha M
the nature of our constitutions, and it is absr
uo for one to say to another, because of indiv
ual belief: 4 am more righteous than tho
and a religious prosecution, or proscript
of of one sect, is inconteStible evidence that
tbo very spirit is wanting that avowedly prom
.' the crusade, or denunciation."
tne A smile, like the faintest glimmer of 81
nay light through a broken night cloud, fill
the over her bent face, and the deep shade
closed over it again. 1 was perplexed
her unusual seeming, and mentally resol
NV to unlock the shut door of that sorrow-f
the heart
lust We had reached the terminus of our W;
line and stood now upon the dusky edge of
Point beyond the Light House, with the d
purple waters of the Potomac tinged
with the red sunset rays, sobbing up Fl
was the deep channel, and moaning and ripp
oor, among the rocks at our feet. The south wi
=. made slumbrous melody among the Il
tam leaves overhead, and far away flashed out
glittering spires ofthe various church stee
VIZ in the last feeble spark of the days ex
guished fires. Above, around, beneath
oil was subdued tenderness-earth was rocl
hich her tired children to sweet repose, in the
wed curtained cradle of the Night, with the dro
60 chant of the winds and waves for a soott
e1S lullaby.
wing never could stand in the solemn shad
ice; of closing day, with the slumbrous bre
nile. ings of infant twilight ripping up thro
IN. the great hush of pensive Nature, will
having the lachrymal fountain of the
tude stirred and shaken up by an indefnable
the ing of sadness
THAT is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow, only,
As the mist resembles the rain"
yer. sat down on an old mouldering, n
= covered log, upon the rivers rim, and lo
away down the wide, watery path cut thrt
hrst green ridges of grass and bordering t
aren't with here and there a snow-white hut 81
,b;cb ing the distant, hazy banks, to hide the
- ering tears, just ready to drop at the sligl
uasn shifting of the surcharged lids. I did
arkle wish to add to her own heart.heaviness,