Mountain Democrat. [volume] (Placerville, El Dorado Co., Cal.) 1854-1860, 1860-06-02

homes she whom he has spoken to few
timcS-She when he has looked upon and
loved
Like man who has accomplished mission,
he now walks steadily onward, rcpains the
highway, and begins the ascent 10 thr mourS
to the lower ones which lie at the base oi
the higher and more remote. Deeper became
the snow, wilder the sccnc--ncithcr Giau ncr
bird nor beast giving life to the whitcnrd
wastc.-lIr aud hl ho. comes to a t"w solitary
h0mcStcadS, and beyond these to a lonely
graveyard, where the dead sleep rtcrnalv
amid the great hush Of nature. lie must
pause a moment, for here lies II poor school
boy who died oI cold aud fever. Gray nurscd
him--iray loved him-t'ray cannot turn
away, pcriN j. forever, Without saying farewell
to the inSrntirnt dust.
As he DIVORCES tu the gate of entrance into
this lone burial-.rouul, II middlc-agrd gcntic-
man comes toward il from the rear of the
small thatrhvl rhnrl,, and, striving to undo
the latch, cailu"t; lii fingers may hr cold. He
may have entered the grave. yard 10y som"
other path. For days, pn>Hihlv there had
been no pa~>~r'n BE this as it inav, the
gentleman rauu"t make cgrr>S. Gray hurii"S
forward and from his side undncS the latch.
"Thanh You, SAYS the gentleman, raising
his hat, "a courtesy is always pleasant, even
ON lonely Yorkshire moor thank volta
happy Chli>tmaS-a good day. He is Il
handsome, thoughtful man, of middle tlc; his
halrJu>t touched with gray, his manncrprompt,
his words conrtlv, Ike y man whose dealings
are many with men aud the world. Perhaps
he is Yorkshire mauu'arturcr-who knows?
many li1vc Factories in the hOlloWS Uf tlcSc
mn"rS S-rl'h, exact, earnest men gathering
whole populations round them, and making
steam their willing Slave.
When the stranger is ont Of sight, Gray
passes in, and following the footsteps in the
snow, they lead him to a simple gravcStonc at
the rear ot the church, off which the snow had
recently been brushed on it is recorded the
death ot two old persons ii man and wife
who tiirttSrr'lrr tivrvrurs hrturp thrir uTrITrS
were Fielding; their marriage life Il long one
considering the years they lived.
thought H. much, says GRAY, to himself
" that gentleman was Mr.. FiclduE, the rich
spinner, and this the crave Of his father and
mother. have heard that he was as noble Il
son aS he i Il noble father. husband master
and man. Yes, thought there was Il likeness
IN his farr tu the boys that came To TuhbS to
he taught drawing, half year ago. How often
does the p:o~air hide the depths of poetic ma
turc. This is his visit To his parents grave,
ON the anniversary of their death an who
knows OF what worth such visitation aud self
communion may be? The virtues OF II year
may thus be >own in single hour"
iray passes on to the schoolbuv'S solitary
grave. No rrvcrrnt feet have visited it-no
rcvcrcnt feet have Scrapcd oil the dazzling
snow. The marks where the little red breasts
have hoppcd across it are plainly visible, and
yet it is not solitary the wind sings dirgr,
the snow prcSScS downiy, AMI at night the
moonlight sweeps over it aud Silvtrs it with
glo V. Under the arch of heaven no single
thing hut what has some hymn sung to it
some tears wcpt over it by nature.
The poor usher resumes his walk presently,
for he has far to 60 The cold is bcnuming,
the snow deeper, yet he presses on and he
stops to find small flask in the pocket of his
outer coat from this he sips n drop of brandy,
III holds but very littlc,l and then plodS ON.
The day begins to tadc-thc distance is yet
considcrahlc-hc grows anxious
Ut length the moor dips downward into the
valley, and beyond this is the higher, blcakcr,
lonclicr moor, across which lies the station he
wishes To reach through the valley sweeps Il
vast watrr-powrr, and here stands the won-
'lrouS mill i'll which daily work three thous-
and people, employed by John Fielding, the
great cotton lord. But the mighty giant of
spindle and mule sleeps to-day, the fires are
low, and labor rests her hands. Some mile
from the mill the mansion Of the cotton lord
stands rmhoSomcd in woods and here at the
foot of the fell is a cluster of cottages.
Descending to one of these, he asks woman
at door the nearest way to the OPP
poSitc fell.
"Why, cross the beck by the bridge and
take the road before thee. But ch, sir! its a
coming on wild night for the moorS and
now I'm thinking, if you % by the GRAY stones
MIR. Ficlding'S park anrm thrrc--voud Il find
it more shetcred'ikc, and bit higher still
You can't miss the way, if We keep this side
the beck to the mill then cross it, and a bit
beyond get into the park by Stilc; the path
then'Il take you by t;rayStonc rool--a mighty
piece of water, all frozen over now--and to-
ward the end leaps up the way to the moors.
You can't miss it, though its coming on u wild
night, | fear"
Gray hurrrS ON, passes the mill, the mill
hands, cottagc-a'moSt all of them trnantlrSS
to day--tinds his way To the pool, and 50 To its
lurthcSt side nearest the moor. As he an.
proachrS the road leading thereto, he sees a
man dressed as servant standing ON the bank
as though attending three of2iuur bows who
are skating up and down the pool. They are
all at them fine athletic lads, aud GRAY knows
them To TIC his old drawing pupils, the Field.
ingS Though he has no intention of approach
ing them, for they are skating some distance
from where he has To turn oil, he cannot re-
iraln from staying Il moment to watch them.
As he docs 50, bell at the hall lringS loud and
clear; its echoes are taken up in the solemn
moorS. ahd re-cch0rd back again.
Gentlemen" calls the servant, "thcre is
the first inncr'tablc; you had better return
now"
They prepare, as il seems, to obey, by Skat.
ing toward the shore; and Gray turns away,
not willing to he recognized aud detained, for
he feels deSolate and low in heart For him
no welcoming feast is spread, no cars listen
for him, no eye expects him. Snow before
him, snow behind him-a sad and solemn
Christmas day to him. Yet the SHOWS of
winter hide the buds of spring, and out of
SORROWS our trucSt joys are oltcncSt born.
lie has turned his face and his steps away
from the pool toward the moor, when crash,
followed by awful cries, met Lis ear. Looking
round, hurrying toward the pool, he sees that
the tallcst youth, in skating toward the shore,
grounded dangerous ice; it cracked, and he
fell through. lie is now struggling in the wa
ter-his head above it, his hands battling with
the ice; while his brothers, Fastening to his
rescue, seem in periEtoos The poor demcntcd
servant "a coward, perhaps, by naturc) stands
on the shore, wringing his hands and shouting
At a dozen athletic bounds Gray had reach.
cd the spot; in another moment he had thrown
of his coat, hat and knapSack.
A ~