St. Charles City Republican intelligencer. [volume] (St. Charles City [Charles City], Iowa) 1857-1861, 1860-11-15
MoraI GaIe.
From Peterson : Magazine for November.
My Step-Mother's Brother.
BY MARY 4 CLARKE.

l was Just sixteen when my father
married for the second time, and new
cr was seen happier maiden than
was when the letter imparting the
welcome news reached me. had
never known a mothers love or care,
for my own mother died in giving me
life. From one nurse | was handed
to another till my seventh year, and
then | was placed at large boarding
school until my fifteenth birthday,
when my father summoned me home
in languages and music. All through
my lonely life had lonely life had
longcd with weary longing for a
mother. | saw how every other love
in my young companions hearts faded
before their love for their mother :;
in the visits had made to the houses
Of my school-mates, noticed how the
hand and love of the mother brighten.
ed all things, promoted JOY, and soOth-
ed sorrow. My father was kind and
induIgcnt, but he was not used to
children, and the love that would
have been lavishcd upon him, was
thrown back upon my heart by cold
kisses, and inquiries which were kind,
but seemed to me formal and eXactcd
by duty.
My father had been absent upon a
long journey, and hc wrote to me TO
have the room my own mother had
occupied, opened and aired to be in
readiness for his new bride. Joyrully
| obeyed. The dream of my life was
coming true, the longing love was to
have an object upon which to lavish
its tenderness, | was to have 4 mother.
The happy day upon which was
to expect them came at last. They
were to arrive in the city at five
o'clock, and, as our house was short
distance ont OF town, | could not rea.
sonabIy expect them before six.
had prepared the room for my mother,
oh how my tongue loved to speak
the name. The snowy curtains were
loupcd with dainty ribbons, the cool,
white mating, and the pretty rose
wood furniture were clean and glossy
with the care we had given them
The table, mantlC-picce, and bureau
were decked with vases of fresh flow
ers, and the drawing-room, too, was
filled with these fragrant offerings of
my love. | had ordered the most
tempting tea | could invent my own
fingers picked the rosy Strawberries
and piled them on the glass dish and
had made, too, dainty cakes, and
decorated the dining-table with roses,
woodbine and starry jessamine.
With my own mothers portrait in
my mind, pictured my fathers wife
as having blue eyes, and soft, fair
hair, banded down upon pale cheeks
and l donned my prcttiest white
dress, curled my hair with elaborate
care, and looked long in the glass tc
see if my face and attire were calcu.
lated to meet with her approval.
had inherited from my mother only 9
fair complexion and my nut brown
hair and large hazel eyes were the
copy of my fathers. Glowing as my
cheeks did with rude health, was
most unlike the portrait over the par
lor mantle of my mother but still
hoped that the resemblance to IN,
father wonld make my face attractive
to my new mother, and l took "a mos
unusual task with me- great pains t,
have my dress neat and elegant t,
please her eye.
At last the carriage, which | hat
sent into the city to meet the travel
lers, drove up to the door ran on
to the porch. First my father got out
and then he handed out a tall lady il
, a gray dress and cloak ; | saw a
| one glance that she had fair hair, pail
/ checks, and blue eyes, and then dash
t ing across the porch l sprang int
her arms.
"Mother! ! darling mother, | am St
D glad you have come !" cried, kiss
!. ing her rapturously. A cold kiss fel