Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1860-11-01

shore They escape the sorrows that blight
the trusting Spirit-the low sad wall of misery
shall never thrill their young heart-strings, for
they stand on the fOwery margin of the crystal
fountain Of life, and learn the glad song that
rings from the lyres of the blest, though the
| lapse of eternal years
I ct the head of that worn mother bowed
In bitter grief over those sweet young faces,
as they we're laid on the coffin pillow and
| her soul yearned for that rest which they had
! gained. Darker and darker grew the sky
above her, more desolate the wide world
around. The husband to whom she had
plighted her souls truth when life's young
morning smiled on the sweet flowers of hope,
and become thing OF terror and scorn The
! light of intelligence that once Ii; up the beam
! ing eyes, had given place to the rolling. va
cant stare of idiocy. The intellect that once
held the listening multitude in rapt admira-
! ton, had been shrOuded in pail of self deg.
radiation and he who bad sworn before the
holy altar to love, to protect and cherish the
/ fair girl by bis side, was now dependent upon
her labor for the scanty food which his abused
nature required.
! In the frightful period when the pestilence
went abroad on destroying pnon breathing
blight, and terror alike at monday or at the
solemn midnight. Horace Nelson was among
the first who fell a victim to the terrible
Scourge. When the holy stars looked quietly
down on the ripping waters, aud the huShed
/ breeze scarcely woke an echo amid the silent
| leaves, the dead cart bore from that miserable
I home the once loving, high-souled man of hon
or, to rest in the pauper's burying ground
/ But two days elapsed ere little Flora, the last
+ remaining daughter, was folded u the mantle
/ Of the shadowy angel, bat the beauty that
crowned the other dying cherubS and rested
/ on their cold still lips, even in the coffin was
not here The distorted features. the lirid
hne, that characterizes the fearful scourge.
made the mother turn in involuntary terror
( from the face that had nestled so lovingly 10
/ her bosom. She sunk n despair almost and
| nercr stirred when stranger hands bore forth
/ that bIightcd flower, to brighten no more the
dark pathway of her life But when their
footsteps died away, and the wheels were
heard rambling in the distance, she heaved q
quick EaSping sigh, and said Ike one Of old.
The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken
away Then the long sealed fountain Of
tears welled forth and the sore and throbbing
brain found relief, and the hurdened heart at
last grew still, baptized in the soothing dews
OF love and halowed trust kneeling bY the
cOuch Of her last remaining child, she silently
poured-out her sorrows into the ear of Him
who watches the YOInT SnarrOwS when they
.al! and wOru ont with S0gTOWlul ygls with
the dead and dying and wasted with hunger
and bitterness of spirit, she slept the weary
sleep Of exhaustion, with her head resting on
the couch Of her ouiy son. He awOke at
early dawn to find his mother reclining hv his
side. Remor>e smote that Young spirit
yoln- in years, vet too old in the blighting
/ experience that Shrouds the life of the soul.
/ He wcpt the bitter tears ofregret, shame, and
>orrow, as he thought Of all she had suffered,
and oi bis own misSpeut DAYS. More sinned
! against than SHINING. though he knew it not)
/ was that wretched lad who now saw the utter
de>Oation of that mother who had ever been
I 70 him an angel OF kiaines
. The stricken spirit struggled in that hour
/ Of grey twilight to rise above the dark iuA
enCeS that had ciolIed the young hearts pure
Trusting love, and molly innocence and he re-
solved to break the dark bands that bound
| him down to poverty. Strong hope sprung up
in his heart He would be man. be would
strive with the world, and win for his poor
mother a home and competence. Alas for
the resolves of neglected childhood and con-
iaminal 81 vC1,h. Few are the hands reached
forth a! the Tish: moment 20 rescue The fall
ing spirit.
For while Le strove TO stem the tide of
opposing Influences, bnt the mother was sick
tor long mouths, and attended bs the hand of
charity. and the louciy boy had none to cheer.
none to encourage him, save cntcasts like him.
self. In that lonely period habits long begun,
had gained an influence over him which could
never be cOuuteracted.
When Margaret arose once more from her
bed OF sickness, she yearned TO come back to
the old place. Il seemed to her sOrrowing
heart that she could find somewhat Of the hap
piness that blesI her youth, if sh1 could hear
the winds sing again through the apple boughs
aud listea to The robins carol among the cher
ry trees, or the whippoorwilrs plant in the
adjacent thicket. She piaed for the sweet
breath Of flowers that bl0Omed By the remem-
bered window, where often she had watched
the mellow twilight fading from the arching
SKY, and gathered rich lessons of wisdom from
the open volume, TIL gathering darkness yelled
the page Through the long days Of her sick
ness there had been intervals Of biissful ease,
a halfconSciousnesS that deluded the huttering
spirit with visions OF the olien times when sit
Ting by her mothers side she breathed the rich
perfume of lilac or rose and listened with
rapture to the chant of the fresh breeze that
bore on its wings the Wild moan Of the waves,
and mingled its dying cadence with the melody
of forest-lyres that aoated from mountain aud
Yalley, aud rose in harmonious swell like the
song of the lute or the light-tOned guitar
And when her health was sufficiently restored,
she came by weary and toilsome stages. to this
pleasant valley where her happy infancy and