Wabash express. [volume] (Terre-Haute, Vigo Co[unty], Ind.) 1841-186?, 1860-06-20

ven would not be considered worth struI
gle, scarcely worth Thought. Edith, hi
man love is but broken reed at best;
you lean upon it, il you depend upon Il
you will find that it will pierce 20
through with many q sorrow. / sympa
thize with you in your disappointment
and hope, to use the language of another
that you may find, by experience, that il
the ashes of human love the Divine offer
plants the sweetest flowers of existence" >"
CHAPTER VIII.
"Dinah, wish you would close tn,
door and stay with me little while. I am
so glad this grand wedding is over, with
all Its attendant festivities, and that can
rest at home once more, where people will
not see me and tell me all the time that /
IN SO thin--that the lily has taken the
place OF the rose in my face, and that am
so unusually quiet, and so changed that
too when am exerting myself to the ut.
most to appear cheerful and gay. How an
noying such remarks always are. How
lmPolite it is in people to scrutinize one
so closely"
Use rale glad to see you home, honey,
and Use sorry you bent so strong as you
used to be; 1t am fac, Miss Edith, that
you are berry much Ichanged. You used
to 60 singing through the house like a
bird; you used to make us all so happy,
cause you was SO yourself; in the Spring
you used to be out Gin the garden among
the flowers; but it is not SO now. You
rarely speak to any one, and you walk a.
bout de house, as if you we're all the time
SO tired. Dis all comes of your 'pllning
your mind by study and books. Glib it
up, my dear, glib it up; de good book says
dat much study is weariness ob de flesh.
Hadn't you found it so %
"No, that is not it. l am SO weary, so
tired all the time. Dinah, do you think
that if l should die now / would 90 to
Heaven o.
"Ob course you would. Be took right to
Abrams bosom. Don't talk of dying
now you are not gwiue TO die, child, yet"
"No, there is no such happy prospect
for me. People never die when they long
for death to release them from suffering.-
How gladly would / close my eyes now, if
knew they would never open again on
earth"
"How unaccouutably strange you do
talk and act. What is de matter wild your
~ am so wretched; am afraid by my
harshness have lost forever beloved
friend; that / have wronged one who is
dearer to me than all the world beside"
"For sake, hear dis chile talk. You
wrong anybody1 'Taint in natur' for you
to do it. Don't let such thoughts 'sturb
your mind. I hoped you had done gone
forgot Frenchy long ago. We didn't edi.
cate you to hab you break your heart ober
man, what goes around the world dig.
ing for roots and YARDS, and lookin' for
stones, aud who has no spectacle calling
in life; pusson who is not minister, nor
lawyer, nor doctor. nor cant 'preciate the
blessin' of 'sociatiug in de fust 'cie;y.-
Speaking OBJ dat reminds me OBJ an observa.
ton dat my ole Pete made de night your
Aunt was married to de;Doctor. You see
den We were slaves. l 'longed to your
grandpa. and Pete to Dominic Bourke.-
Wheneber de Dominic went to wedding,
or funeral, Pete allus walked behind
him, carried his book, and when they
reached the church or house, he took his
massa's cane and hat. Well, Pete, whose
'sosiations were mostly 'mong de ministry
was often in de habit Of tellin' over our
blessin's. De evenin' de Dominic married
your Aunt, Pete cnm wild him. After de
ceremony was over, Pete cum down stairs
where 1 was and says, "Dinah. when de
Dominic and 60 TO solemnize weddings
minister de consultations iof 1igion to do
dying, and officiate at funerals, ! can alIus
tell whether the folk long to the 'stocracy
or not, by de very air .hsy breathe. Di-
nah, we should be thankful for ali oul
blessin's, specially dat we is born in dc
fust 'siety." Oh course, marry who you
please, you would 'sociate wild de best 'ci
ETY., cause you long dere; but den you
oughtn't marry man dat didn't. Den il
you had married Frenchy, suppose be
should hab wanted to hab taken you Il
France, where dey hab dat dreadful rain
heard missus talk of, and where as long as
it lasts, dey tink no more of taking harm
less people, and chOpping dere heads of
wild de gully. dan do of wringing chick
ems neck.
If you had gone. no one could reasonably
'spect you back, and for me, who has
watched over and loved you ever since
your eyes fust opened in dis world, to hat
giben you up, would hab been like Partin
body and soul. wild two sided sword, al
de scriptur' say. Tank de Lor', chile
and t'ink dere is special Providence in it
L
cause you didn't marry dat man."
Ten years have passed away. To some
rapid has been their fight; to others lead
en- has been their wings. In her library
in the room where we last saw her, is tn
now orphaned Edith. Time has not lai,
his hand heavily upon her. Instead o
finding her a student, we now behold her
solitary watcher, by the bedside of he
aged uncle. The invalid has just awaken
ed from sleep.
"My child, come nearer to me. | shal
soon pass through the deep waters ths
separates time from eternity.
Edith approaches the sufferer, an
clasps his emaciated hand in her own.
Dear Uncle. shall be so lonely with
out you. When father aud mother wei
taken felt that you were the only lin
that bound me to earth. When you al
gone / will have no one TO cling to, q
! one to console me, no one TO teach me ho
to live as ought, no one to love me as 20
a have loved me-"
Live, my child, as you always ha'
a