Sioux City register. [volume] (Sioux City, Iowa) 1858-1871, 1859-11-12

BY LOUIS CHANDLER MOORE.

The March night had darkened down
the little New England village OF Ashdale.
1t was q pretty place i'll summer, lying be.
tween two hills, on whose summit The ash
trees lifted their green arms to the sky all
the long, bright days, Is if imploring a
benediction, or spread out lovingly over
the white houses nestled round the one
church in the vale below. .... .....
But 10 night it wore different aspect.
A storm was upon the hills. A little
snow and hail was borne upon its wings,
but not much. Chiefly i. was the force OF
rushing winds shaking the leadess ash
trees, hurling against closed windows /;
swinging the bell in the old church tower,
Till it gave forth now and then drge. like
peal, as it the dead were tolling their own
requiems. -.y
Many homes there were where the wild
scene without seemed but to heighten by
the force of contrast, the blessed calm
within-homes where smiling infants slept
warm and still, through the twilight, in
the soft hush of mother bosoms, and hap
py children gathered round the knee OF
some father or grandsire, 10 hear again
some simple story; or thoughtful ones
looked into the fire, and fashioned from
the embers brave castles, III which they
were to dwell in the coming time, with,
over all, the sunshine of youth and hope.
Twenty years from now they will look
again into the embers, aud see these fair
castles, in which they had never come to
abide, with ruined windows and blacken-
ed walls
"The twilight memory all,
And the siIe,te OF Death within'
But IN one house no stories were told to
gladly listening ears-no soi. evening
hymn hushed slumbering babes to rest
no children's eager eyes locked into tie
embers. 1t was the stateliest house, by far,
in the little village-a lofty mansion,
cleaning white through the trees, with
the roof supported by massive pillars
Nowhere did the evening fire burn bright.
er but into it looked only two old people,
worn and sorrowful, with the shadows of
grief and time upon their shrivelled faces
two who had forgotten, long ago, that
their youth fair castles, who looked back
over waste fields OF memory, where not
even setting sun rays gilded their monu-
ments built to their dead hopes.
They sat there silently. They had sat
silently ever since the darkness gathered.
The lofty, well furnished room was light
ed OILY by the wood.fres glow, and in the
corners strange shadows seemed to gather
with beckoning hands and white hrows
cleaning spec,rally through the darkness,
Toward them, now and then, the wife look
ed with anxious gaze then turned back
again toward the fire. and clasped her
hands over the heart that bad leaned
through many trials the hard lesson Of pa
tience.
Judge Howard was stern. selfcontain-
ed man. In his native town whore he
had passed all bis life, none stood higher
in public esteem. Toward the poor he
was iberal--toward bis neighbors just and
friendly; yet for all that, he was n man,
whose will was iron, whose habits were
granite. His wife had come to know this
even in her honeymoon. The knowledge
was endorsed by her sad, waiting face,
and her restrained manners.
His daughter Caroline, his only child,
had learned it early, and her father be-
came to her almost as much an object OF
fear as of tenderness.
Aud yet he loved those two with a
strength weaker, more yielding natures
could not have iaihomed. v hen bis child
WAS FIRST put into his arms, when her frail
helpless hands groped blindly at his own,
he felt the strong thrill Of fatherly love
sweep over him. For the moment it swell
ed his soul, irradiated his face, Hooded his
heart, but i. did not permanently change
or soften his heart. As she .rcw TO WON
anhood, and her bright head glancing il
biz path was the iairest sight earth e,el
beheld, her singing voice the sweetest lnu
sic, he never gralltied her whims, nor al
ways yielded to her reasonable wishes.
At length love came 10 her. She gave
her heart 10 one whose father Judge How
ard had ha,ed. James Hnntly and b.
had been young together. and ieud hac
arisen between them, which Rufus How-
ards stern nature allowed him neither tt
furget or forgive. He had yet to learn th,
the lesson, holier than philosophy, loitieI
than all The teachings ot seers, and ssges
the lessons our Savior lived aud wrought
aye, and died to teach, ot forgiveness ey-
sn of our enemies---prayer Tor those who
have de-pi.eiuliy used and persecu,ed US
His former en-, my was dead now, but mo-
SO the Judges Late. Il had been Trans
mitied like real estate, 10 the dead man.
hsir, aud % he forbade his daughter Il
marry him, and aternly b.de her choos,
between parents and lover. She inheriles
her fathers strong will, and she put he
hand in Richard lIuntly's and went fnrtl
she would not have been her father
child if She had not.