The Potter journal. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1857-1872, 1860-03-01

went away, and far cut on the lonely
moor sat down to think. Like weird
magician, Memory led me back into the
past, calling up the hopes aud passions
buried there My childhood, fathorless
and motherle$s, bot not unhappy for no
wish was ungratified, no idle whim de-
nied. My boyhood,- wish no shadows
over it but those my own wayward will
called up. My manhood when the
great JOY Of my life arose, my love for
AGNES, midsummer dream Of bloom and
! bliss, SO short-livcd and so sweet felt
again the pang that wrung nv heart when
she coldly gave ME back the pledge |
. thought 50 sacred and so sure, and the
music Of her marriage bells tolled the
knell of my lest love. | seemed to hear
them still waited across the purple moor
through the silence Of those fifteen years.
My life looked gray and joyless as the
wild waste lying hushed around me, un-
blessed with the verdure of single hope,
a single love; and as looked down the
coming years, my way seemed very soil
tary, very dark.
Suddenly lark scared upward from
the heath, cleaving the silence with its
jubilant song. The sleeping echoes woke,
the dun moor seemed to smile, and the
blthe music fell like dew upon my gloomy
spirit, Weakening a new desire
What this bid is to the moor might
little Ef1ie be to me-" | thought within
myself, longing to possess the cheerful
spirit which had power to gladden. me.
Yes" [ mused, "the old home viii
seem more solitary than now ever; and
! if | cannot win the lark $ song without a
golden fetter, will give it one, and while
it sings for love of me it shall not know
want or fear"
| Heaven help me | forgot the poor
return | made my lark for the sweet lib
erty it lost.
Ali that night pondered the altered
future Jean had laid cefore me, and the
longer | looked the fairer it seemed to
grow. Wealth | cared nothing for; the
worlds opinion l defed ambition had
departed, and passion believed lay dead; !;
then why should deny myself the con-
ISOLATION which seemed offered to me? |
would accept it; and as | resolved, the
dawn locked in at me, fresh and fair as
little EtHo'S face.
/ met Jean with smile, and, rs she
read its significance Alright, there shone a
sudden peace upon her countenance, more
touching than her grateful words.
Efie came singing from the burnside,
as unconscious of the change which await
ed her as the flowers gathered in her
plaid and crowning her blight hair.
! drew her to my side, and in the sim
plest words asked hcr If sac would 90 with
me when Jeans long guardianship was
ended. JOY, SORROW, and surprise stirred
the sweet composure of her face, and
quickened the tranquil beating of her
heart. But as | ceased, joy conquered
grief and wonder; for she clappcd her
hands like a glad cuiId, exclaiuing,--
Go with you, Sir? Oh, ifyou knew
how | long to see the home you have so
ottcn pictured to me, you would never
doubt my willingness to go"
But, Fife, you do not understand.
Are you willing to 90 with me as my
wife ?' | said,-with secret sense Of
something like rcmorSe, as | uttered that
word, which once meant SO much to me,
and now seemed such an empty title to
besIow on her.
The flowers dropped from the loosened
plaid, as Effie looked with startled
glance into my face; the color left her
checks, and the smile died on her lips,
but a tinlid JOY lit her eye, as she softly
echoed my last words,-
Your wife 1t sounds very solemn,
though SO sweet. All, Sir am not wise
or good enough for that -
A chlld's humility breathed in her
speech, but something Of a woman's fer
vor shone in her upliftcd countenance,
and sounded in the sudden tremor of her
voice.
Ethe, | want YOU as you arc" [ said,
- no wiser, dear, no better, | wal
your innocent affection to appeaso the
hunger Of an empty heart, your blithe
companionship to cheer my solitary home.
Be still child to me, and let he give
you the protection of my name"
Effie turned to Aer old friend, and, lay
ing her young face on the pillow close be-
side the worn one grown so dear to her,
asked, in tone half pleading, half re-
gretful,-
Dear Jean, shall [ go so far away
from you and the home you gave me when
had no other 2"
My BARN, | shall not be here, and it
will never seem like home with old Jean
gone. 1t is the last wish | shall ever
know, to see YOU safe with this good gen
tleman who loves my child Go, dear
heart, and be happy; and Heaven bless