The daily Green Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1861-1865, 1861-04-22
nlisfellalln.
For the Vermont Christian Messenger.
Not Friendless.

-
is it then five years since your i,usband's
death, and have you, in the interval, provided
for yourself and your two children, unassis-
ted -? If so, shall believe that heroines are
not tabled characters, bat that in MY once
timd school-matc, Mary Lee, to whom tho
toi! and contest of life seemed from aIar, SO
fearful, the martyr spirit has been developed
to the wonder and admiration Of all wit
nesses
MY dear Madaine, you cannot judgs
correctly of what | have attempted and ac~
compshed. You are surrounded by the
comforts and eleganciey Of life; all your
wishes have been grat,Ged as soon as they
have b en- expressed. 1t is no wonder th,t
my unaidcd efforts seem Of such magnitude
to you. 10 the little J. have performed,
| have been impced by affection. What
mother could behold her children dying in
her arms while she had strength to labor Tor
their support
Spoken like yourself dear Mary. But
bowed your once delicate 10 IN. and changed
your blooming face SO that scarcely q vcStlge
of the olden look remains Your father was
not poor Why have you not followed him
to his Western home, and been welcomed to
its abundance I?
Because he has nothing to offer me-
Abundance fled from him, even as it desert ted
me
Poor Mary left without single friend
in this world where the strong trauple upon
the weak and detoncoIess Daring the hap
py years which have fed leaving no impress
OF sorrow upon my heart, how the knowledge
of your mistortunes would have panied me!
pray Heaven that you may feel no longer
the bitter pang of being friendlcss.'
Again, Madalino, are you wrong
Fricnde s? Who is SO that God has ere
ated? l have yet to explain the incidents
OF tho past, and you shall understand what
now to your mind seems vague and myateri-
GUS. You say rightly that there was album
dance in my fathers house. left it with
many regrets, but my heart was strong in its
love and confidence. My new abode was the
paradise of my youthful dreams, and my mo-
BILE Edward the angel that rendered it 50
beautiful. Years passed away, and three
lovely children had beon given us and still
peace brooded like dove above our dwell
ing and we dreamed not of the hour, then
SO feariully near, when i, should take its
flight. Edward died, and at his grave | left
all MY weakness. How admirable is that
design of Providence by which sorrow, while
it crushes, makes us strong. From tie first
overwhelming weight Of my grief imagined
should never rise. Creditors were claim
ing tho property for which poor Edward had
toilsd, and which, had he been spared, would
soon have been his own. My father had en-
gagged in ruinous speculation, and was even
then tasting the bitterness Of poverty
Would not death have been welcome in such
an hour Of grief aud despair? Yes, but Tor
those little hands cinging to me for protec-
tion---but for tho childish voices breathing in
my ear that hallowcd name mother Oh,
when did such tones ever appeal vainly to
maternal love?
became conscious that my own weak
arm must bear them above the threatening
bilows Of lie. Hope and strength sprung
suddenly into my heart, as, with prophetic
eye, | saw my babes orphaned anew, thrown
upon the cold charity of strangers, p rhaps
upon the mcrcies of thoe who delight in
cruelty and oppression. One glance reused
the mother within me, and changed my