Cincinnati daily press. [volume] (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1860-1862, 1861-09-05

BY Lucy a. RANDALL.


the parors Of his widowed sister-in-law.
But the respectful attention paid him, even
in all his antiquity, denoted him to be q
parsonage Of no small consequence in that
domestic circle.
"Fashionably educated h2' was hiscom-
mcnt, as he surveyed the two young ladies
who had just entered the apartment "Well,
girls, | suppose you think there's nothing
more to be learned in this world"
81 assure you, brother Joseph, they grad
uated with great honor interposed Mrs.
Medworth. Emma, my love, bring your
diplomas here-perhaps your uncle"
mo, you needn't" :" interposed Mr.. Med
they know well enough-piano playing,
flower painting, embroidering, and all that
sort of trash, I'll warrant"
"French and Spanish, uncle !" chimed in
Miss Isabel.
"German and Latinl" added Emma, the
younger.
Fudge and fiddlestick l' echoed the old
man, irritably. "Can you make shirt2
that's more important thing altogether,
let me tell you if you ever intend to catch
making, and pie-baking, and house keep
Il
need in this republican countryW
Miss Isabel gave q faint shrek. Even
Emma looked horror-stricken, as Uncle Jo-
seph folded up his spectacles with deter
mined air.
"But my dear brother" urged Mrs. Med
worth, gently, "these requirements are no
longer judged necessary"
~ ~ ~ don't care" assented the old man, "I
oane;Jo,, to,,, I'D;
"But you do not mean"
81 mean that, if you care about consult
ing my wishes or advice, Bell and Emma
will go to work and learn something sensi-
BILE, instead of French fandangoes and pi-
ano-music. That's what l mean"
Uncle Joseph got up and bristled out of
the room as he spoke, as if the matter were
finally settled Mrs. Medworth and her
daughters looked at one another in blank
dismay. At length the former broke the
silence.
''NIy dear girls, think you had better
follow your uncle's advice, disagreeable as
it may at first seem. His judgment is ex-
cellent, and-and beside we are totally de-
pendant on his generosity"
"I never, never can, mamma" sighed
Isabel 'To think of going into the kitchen
like servant girl, and all to crafty whim
Of Uncle Joseph's."
"Now / think it would be great fun, said
Emma, gaily; II believe Uncle Joseph is
right, and our education has been neglected,
and l mean Immediately TO set about re-
forming the defect"
"You can do as you like" said Isabel,
haughtily. al intend to wed rich hus-
band, whose wealth will preclude the neces-
sity of my becoming a kitchen drudge"
eyes," said Emma; "but knowledge of
housekeeping will not be of any disadvan-
tage to u.s. rich or poor, Bell?"
Isabel tossed her head. ....
q Just as you choose but Pm not to be
domineered over any longer by Uncle Jo-
sephP 49,.
"You have made very sensible decision,
my dear" said the old gentleman, when
Emma announced her intention to him that
evening.
'Het Bell marry a second Cr9sus, if she
likes-in this world of reverses and change,
she may one day discover that there are
some requirements more precious than the
winged gold she values so highly"
Emma Medworths fashionable acquaint-
ances were shocked by the tidings that she
had began the study of kitched-lore; some
pronounced her o little deranged, others
wondered at her vulgar taste, and few, a
very, very few, thought secretly that she
was a sensible girl Isabel and her wealthy
lover, it is needless to add, were not among
these last.
Two years afterward, one of those devas-
tating commercial crisis, before whose sim
moon breath fortunes melt away, and the
boarded treasures of years are scattered to
the four winds of heaven, swept through
the country. Mrs. Medworth's small COM
petence was involved in the general whirl-
pool of ruin, and this was not all. Her
widowed daughter Isabel, whose palace of
wealth had been shattered by the misfor-
tunes of one disastrous week, returned to
her mothers house, dependant and heart
broken, burden to those who were ill-able
to support her.
Uncle Joseph quietly watched the course
of events and smiled to himself, as he OBJ
served Emma's mistaken courage and viva
city, and the excellent application she made
of her household complishments. Now,
indeed, she had learned their value.
"Nice girl thai" solilOquized Uncle Jo-
seph, on his way to the bankers; "not the
sort to break down and melt away, like a
snow-wreath, at the first touch of calamity.
l like little Emma. Twenty years old to-
day, is she? Well, l must see if the old
man can't find some sort of an acceptable
present for her."
The carriage which was to convey old
Mr.. Medworth to the railroad depot was at
the door-he had bidden each member Of
the family adieu, with the single exception
of his youngest niece-and as he gave her
a parting kiss, he said frankly;
"My dear, I'm getting to be an old man,
and these visits to the city begin to seem
like weighty undertakings, so it isn't at all
likely you will ever see me again. Don't
interrupt me, child know you're fond of
your old uncle but shall love you just as
we'll then, even if / don't have chance to
tell you SO every day. I haven't forgotten
that this is your birthday" he added, slip
| ping little box into her hand; "and | don't
think can do better with my money than
to purchase the happiness of the favorite
neice whe followed my advice years ago"
And before Emma could ask an explana.
ton, the old man was gone, leaving his sis.
ter-in-law and daughters in perfect mazt
of bewilderment.
"What can he mean," exclaimed Mrs
MedwOrth. "He was always strangely &C.
centric"
"Do open the box, Emma" said Isabel
eagerly 81 am dying to discover this mys
terry !"
But Emma still stood mOtionless, anc
Isabel snatched the box from her hand ant
unclasped the lid.
IN is emptyl" she exclaimed, in an &C
cent of disappointment and vexation, toss
ing the box from her.