The southern enterprise. [volume] (Greenville, S.C.) 1854-1870, 1860-11-08
THE otD CLOCK ON THE srAras.

n sSAs AxA<S oAA4ho.
| And 60 Ellen Wilford has consented
to leave her home with Stephen J.enard.
No bright moon shines upon him, as he
lstands in the garden Visiting for her.
The eyes of night have hidden them.
selves, and a dull, drizzling rain palters
down amongst the dry dead leaves un-
der the old beach tree. 5 a.
oh Stephen Lenard. Stephen Len.
ard I! do you know that to morrow's sun
will rise upon aching hearts and bitter
tearsl Have you thought Of the hap.
py home and kind loving faces, from
which you are Turing that gentle one
Cannot those dark eyes of yours peer
into the mirror Of futurity. and look up
on a lonely wife pining insome gloomy
barrack chamber, hearing nothing bu,
the coarse jests and ribaM talk Of the
soldierv ! Lock again: Is this slight
frame fitted TO bear the wearying night
marches and the horrors Of battle
plain J Av, the arm you are waving is
strong ADD muscular, Stephen, and you
think not of the:time when it shal! be
weak and powerlcss as an infants, when
the lips upon which you are gazing
shall call upon you in vain, when the
head you are holding SO near your own
shall rest indeed on your bosom, and
the hands yoa arc cln-ping lie thrown
wildly round you, but the embrace shall
not be returned. -. ..
And Ellen stands at the door. As
she passed il, the old clock on the stairs
struck twelve the echo has died away,
bnt its pendulum is swinging backwards
and forwards with its dull, mon otonous
tick tick, seeming every moment to
grow louder and more solemn. Ellen
shudders; she is thinking how, since
her hand had been large enoug gh, her
mother has never suffered airy other TO
wind that clock, and how ofen she has
gazed on its curious old face with won.
Ger. Who will wind it up to night 2
and, in atone of bitter anguish, she ex.
claims: "Oh! mother, mother p
But the door is open, and Stephen is
there. They little think how often in
the dead of night, in trial, sorrow, and
even privation, will shat cry 60 up from
her heart, though it passeth not her
lips. Oh, mother, mother !" and the
clock ticks op--on, through the solemn
hours Of night; on, through the dull
sorrowful days that succeed on, in
mournful monotouy through hours. and
days, and years on. and on. aud on!
- = e
Ellen, my own dearest wife. do not
leave me! know you now-have
known you many days, only l feared to
say Sc. But see I am quite calm
now do not go away from me I"
Hush dearest. Remember YOU
arc not TO talk, not to excite yourself
You look better. dear husband, better
than you have looked since the baIlwa
ex,ricated; you will soon be well,
but"
- "Elleu. my love, my wife, come hish.
ef; put your hand IN mine, and let me
hold itowllile l fell you they are de.
ceising you. shall never leave this
bed alive. NAY. dearest, for my sake
bear up against this. Listen 10 me, for
my time is short, and | am weak, so
very weak. 1 have injured you, my
Ellen, but not willingly, Heaven knows,
not willingly. When think of all I
have made you suffer, Of The home and
the loving hearts from which took
you, oh p! Ellen, I could curse my own
selishness Nay, let me spenk--it was
selfish and dishonorable.; and now, now
/ am leaving Vol, alone and nnprotect-
ed, In strange place but have writ
ten 10 your father, and oh surely he
will be nerciful now: Ellen Ellen |!
| am dying forgive me--put your face
down 10 mine once more. cannot see
you; hos a cloud passed over the moon .
1t is very dark"
g q ~
Again the old clock on the stairs
strikes the hour of midnight and again
its solemn echoes revibrate through the
old hall. A carriage drives up-there
are subdued sounds OF welcome. and
compassion, and love but above all are
heard, distinct in their low choking
tone, the words, "Oh mother! moth.
erp Aud they lay her where she can
hear the ticking Of the old clock. She
Is 80 weak that she suffers the tears to
trickIe down her emacialed cheeks
Without an effort 10 wipe them away
And the clock ticks on, and tho bonrs
pass il is night again, her pale face
looks paler still in the clear cold rays
Of the foil moon. Suddenly a cloud
obscures the light, a shudder passes over
her. and, turning to the loving watcher
by her bedside, she excTaims in that
same low choking tone, "Oh, mother,
mother !" 80. ......S
There is silence in the. sick chamber,
for Ellen sleeps. Suddenly her eyes
open, the look of anguish has left her
features, and she whispers, II have
Seen him I am going 10 him." ~
l..
Again the moon breaks forth
from the clouds and looks upon the
lonely watcher in that silent room. -
The mothers head rises, and she gaze,
On the face Of the sleeper it is. very
pale--it is even ghsstly in that solemn