Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1859-06-08
3aairs' Department.
w~mrTfSEtnN u srfRlT or THE AGE.
SUNBEAMS AND SHADOWS:
Temperance Versus Intemperance.
ny ANNIE GEORGE.
CONTINUED.
CHAPTER TX.

IhN NIA0N AVaha 1N@I
The ~gladness given to Spring:
And yet upon thy brow is wrought
The darkness Of THAI deeper thought,
Which future time shall bring.
What cal have traced that shadowy line
Upon a brow 20 young as timer
Three years have elapsed, bringing sun
shine and Joy to the hearts of some; casting
clouds and shadows upon many others
Time is fleeting, yet every moment is an item
every second brings with it some duty,
and carries with il some neglected task eve
~ instant brings with it some important
event and consequence. We do not sufi-
GENTLY appreciate this that each moment, as
II is noio, the present, has hanging about it
some momentous incident, and if unfulfilled,
takes into Eternity another sin against US.
If we rightly appreciate this truth, we would
learn to prize each moment and profit by it.
Youths hours aIe short. They speed along
ON golden wings set with precious gems; for
they are generally laden with happiness,-or,
at least, with Hope. Like a pleasant dream
II glides away, leaving for ripper years 'sweet
memories Of the asst.
Thus II was with Minnie. These three
years had passed like a ray of sunshine; so
happy were they. Not a cloud had arisen to
obscure the horizon Of her happiness. All
had been Joy and contentmeut. In her stud
les she had excclled, and now stood the high
est Of all the pupils OF Mrs. Durand's Semi
nary. She had assembled with comparative ease
the 'hill of knowledge" by patient industry,
having a quick mind to aid her. With Mrs.
Durand she was yet the ~favorite pupil, in.
deed more loved than ever, for each day
proved the purity and loneliness Of her char
racter. Her vacations had been passed at
home,-the happiest hours of her life were
those, when nestled close to her mothers
side, she listened to her counsel, and, unlike
many daughters, profited thereby. She
loved intensely that i'sweet mother" and
looked mp to her as the best, the most exem-
plary, as well as the l~oveliest of her SEX
She had Of late spoken Of her father, and
asked Information concerning him for she
did not remember any Of the incidents of her
life prior to moving to her present home with
Aunt Hannah" save n dim, dreary ~recollec-
ton of 'Nurse Ruth" and Of a beautiful
house with elegant furniture. She also re-
membered indistinctly the tall, dark form of
her father but knew nothing of the painful
events recorded in a former chapter. When
she preached the subject to her mother, Ella
turned very pale. Sire had dreaded this, and
many conversations had taken place between
herself and Aunt Hannah" concerning it
Now she only answered, my child, l cannot
tell you of your father. He went away ma
ny years ago, and | have never since had
news, whether Of veal or woe, of him. Do
not speak Of this again, my dear. It distress
ss me. Let us drop the subject"
So, though Minnie was by no means salts
lied, she d~esisted, seeing it so greatly griev-
cd her beloved mother. But the gentle, af.
iectionate girl would fain have known her
mothers early history. She did not, howev-
er, again refer TO il, and nothing more was
spoken on the subject. Ella and Aunt Han
nah thought it best not to reveal to her the
character of her athe', knowing it would
grisve the sensitive girl, and make her un.
happy, They promised themselves at some
future time 10 .ell her all,-when she should
grow older and better able to bear it.
Minnie was pow seventeen, and realized all
the promises Of loneliness her childhood had
given. Hers was that rare, touching love.
illness so seldom beheld-so much more beau.
tiful than the brilliant style. She was but
little changed, save that her eye had taken a
soft, tender light, like violcts stepped in dew,
and wore that thoughtful expression, as Il
consciousness were lost in some sweet
dream In fine, she loved, and was engag.
ed TO willie Harley. According to the prom.
Use made by her mother, she had for several
years been receiving and replying to, letters
from him. At first they only breathed Of
friendship, showing a deep interest in al
that concerned her, and informing her of al
concerning himself. Then in about six
months they grew more tender, and wher
she visited her home soon afterwards, during
q vacation, he told her Of his love, and wa!
assured OF its reciprocation. Then they
were betrothed, with the consent Of all par
ties. The Squire and his lady tenderly kiss
ed their future daughter, and sanctioned thei
love. Ella, however, insisted that thre
years must elapse ere they married. 'The,
were both too young to think of marryin
yet, she said. This seemed a long time t
Willie, but as Minnie conceded with be
mother in this, as in all things else, he wa
compelled to submit, though, we must col
Tess. not very gracefully.
Willie was one Of the most noble, as we
as handsome, Of young men. He had M
yet reached his majority, but would in a fe
months. Tall, manly and graceful, he pc
sessed a lace all beaming with the light fro
the soul within. That was generous, hoI
orable, AID aii Of nGbie and kind impulse
lie was fascinating in his boyish. eracef
manners, combining the intellect of the m,
with the simplicity and frankness of DO
hood. His was a dangerous gift that ra
fascination of manner. Young and old f
the charm OF his smile and tenderly beami
eye. tie was ever a welcome guest in eve
homo circle, and all trusted him. knowing
his bosom rested neither deceit or guile.
college he ranked high. He passed throu
the Sophomore and Junior classes, and M
stood at the head Of the Senior class.
mired and loved by all his companions, W
ever called on "Hnrley" when any pleasu
was ia contemplation, or in more serious D
times. IN less than a year he expected
graduate, and looked forward with fond
ucipauons to the time when he could lea
those college halls with laurcls browning
brow and settle at home once more. A
then, he thought, in less than two yea
Minnie will be mine" This animated
studies and gave zest and ardor to his mil
And Minn!e-yourg, loving and below
full Of bright hopes,
-"her hearts content,
To every lighted lock its lustre lent"
Her heart was overlooking with happine
and she often asked herself the question
"Can all this happiness lasti" she feared
dream was all too BRIGHT the bliss
great TO endure. But her studies were
neglected. On the contrary, she applied /
sell the more assiduously to them, endeay
ing now ln this last session, to carry off
nrst prize, and graduate with honor to !
self and friends.
one sunny day in June, when All nat
seemed parched and athirst, SO intense
the heat, Mrs; Durand gave the young
AAAn 49, AAAAN-