Cleveland morning leader. [volume] (Cleveland [Ohio]) 1854-1865, 1859-02-17
From HarDer's New Monthly Magazine.
HESTER GRAHAME: ONE WOMAN'S LIFE.


"Every face is either history or prophecy"
I think that of my friend Hester Grahame was
both; for 1 studied it many years since, and each
year proves the truth Of my reading.
Hester was born in little wood eolored
house halfway up Red Mountain, in a town and
county known to all tourists. The father and
mother of the child did not possess, to any con-
siderable degree, that thrift and energy which
characterizes most Yankee farmers; for they
were always in trouble. Nobody's cattle had
such genius for running away; no other fem
ces fascinated the wind to such an extent as did
theirs; and it was certain that they were always
little too late for any good fortune that befell
their neighbors. They had been blessed with
many children; but, as Mrs. Grahame said, "No-
body was ever so unlucky with their children
as Job and her." So, when little Hester was
born, there were but three boys left. If you
were ever in house where the article most
needed could never be found; where the person
most depended upon was never ready; where
the neighbors knew much better than the pa
rents where the next meal was coming from,
YOU can form some idea of the influences that
surrounded the childhood and girlhood Of which
am eDdeavoring to tell you
Schools and churches were not SO common
then as now; and by the time Hester could walk
the four miles that lay between her own hill
and the one upon whose top the school-hOuse
was perched, the poor inefficient mother had
fallen into decline, and before the child could
| spell the word death, the mother knew to the
| fulle extent its wondrous meaning. Of course
there was no more school for Hester. She must
see to the house-must take care of father and
brothers; and her natural quickness and energy
coming to her aid, in the course of few months
she did far better than her mother had ever DONE
So all her daily work was done well; but when
she looked down upon the lake bathed in the
| glory of sunset; when she watched The grand
old mountains as they threw off their robe of
mist and stood alone against the sky, there came
longIngs to that child's heart for another, a
broader life-One that should be as beautiful as
that smooth lake-as great and self-reliant as
those noveless mountains.
| They were not altogether vague yearnings
either; for as the years gave her strength and
| Judgment she saw that she must contrive some
way to know more, and so do more than she
could now; and the how to do it was soop de-
eided. One day, after the housework was done,
she went out and picked basketfull Of the
large raspberies that elung to the sides of the
mountain. This time she did not make them
into pies, but walked to the nearest village and
| tried to sell them. do not know about faint
heart never winning fair lady; but sure / am
| that faint heart never succeeded in selling ber-
ries; and poor little Hester was almost discour-
aged as she knocked at the door Of substan-
| tial-looking house and asked the old gentleman
who opened it the oft-repeated question. She
] thought he was pleasant-looking and while he
went to ask his wife, peeped timidly into the
large entry, and then into the room beyond
almost screaming with delight as she saw long,
deep shelves lined with books. By-and-by the
old gentleman and his wife came hack, and
when the latter had examined the berries after
the manner Of steady house-keepers, concluded
to take them "But the price. What would
| the little girl ask I" 30 one knew less about
the price than the little girl; they might give
her what they liked
This amused the good man; and he soon
found out that the child wanted the money to
buy book with; and after a few more ques-
tons, he told her that he was Mr. Center, the
minister, and that he would pay her for the
berries and give her a book besides. Never
child climbed Red mountain with lighter heart
than did Hester that afternoon; the stern
heights above her seeming to smile their con-
gratulations as she held up the long-coveted
treasure. But it must not opened until the
supper was ready-lntil the dishes and milk
| things were washed, Then down upon the
broad, Fat stone that serve1 for doorstep she
spelled out the title of Mr.. Center's present
It was that old, old book, the Pilgrims Pro-
gress;" and not until the long summer twilight
was ended did she lift her eyes from its pages,
It was bard work for her to read: she had to
spell many words; but still she gathered some
what of the meaning; and before Saturday
night she closed the covers with tear at the
thought II have no more to read" When the
Sabbath came, size thought if she could 60 to
the village for book she could surely walk
there to church; SO, prevailing upon one of her
brothers to accompany her, they started, and
very much to his astonishment Mr.. Center saw
his little brown-eyed friend walk into his meet
! ing-house E, Z
After service he came and spoke to her and
upon the next day his well-fed nag anbled to
the foot of the mountain, where Mr.. Center
dismounted and left the beast to his own pleas-
ure while he climbed the rugged pathway you
thought 30 picturesque last summer.
The child Hester had finished washing so
she sat down with him and told him some Of
her dreams and plans-he listening kindly and.
promising to befriend her OF course Hestsrs
/ father did net object Alas Job Grahames
character is told only too clearly when say be