Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1862-01-30
VOL. xxx.
LUCY HINCHCLIFF THE DAILY Gov
ERNESS

bOO4 hlNOdCIJltt TILE OhIb1 WV
BRNBSS.
The lark went up to heaven, seeming to beat
his breast against the ancient sky; yet, tiny
spcck as he was-scarccly disccrnable to the
keenest vision-his song was audible to Lucy
lIinchclif in her mothers little garden. Lucy
was a daily governess, and was in the act OF
plucking a rose to adorn her bosom, before she
set out to enter upon days routine. She cast
her eyes around the modest garden-lt was
a very modest, very little garden-lookcd uD at
the lark once more, received the last note of
his song into Der soul smiled at the gray
headed mother in the pinched widows cap,
who was standing at the window, waved her
adieus, and closed the small gate after her.
There was not in all the suburb in which we
lived better girl, pretIier girl, more loving,
more dutlul daughter than Lucy llinchcliif.
She first attracted our attention when we went,
with our salchel on our back, willing enough,
to school. She was younger by two years than
ourselves--a little tmid thing, as we remember
her. She had father at one time, but we could
see that the old man was poorj and once we
were prompted to offer her some Of our vctuas
which we bore in our bag, 1or we dined at
SCHOOL, fearing that she had not enough to cat
at home. 1t was only boys thought, and now
we are more happy that we did not commit our
selves by the insult, than if we had realized our
early dreams those bubbles bred in child's
active brain.
Her father died, and they became poorer
a rich relation took Lucy away to bestow upon
her a superior education. 1t was all he could
do for her, he said though he kept his car
riage and his servants. and cast bread to the
dogs. She returned to her mother after three
years, to aid their mutual support by teaching.
Who knows besides themselves, the bitter
ness of the bread they ate? The fine mistress
may not irown too severely upon her cook or
footman. They would resent it, and would
seek another place. But the poor governess !!
That she will resign her engagement is not
TO be apprehended. And are there not dozens
scores who would be glad to succeed her, if
real life more sad to witness than any histrionic
art, and the life of the day governcss, in
meager circumstances, is one whole tragedy.
Lucy Hinchcif closed the gardSn gate, ard
passed from her mothers sight. 1t was fine
morning, and was early. She had, therefore,
no occasion to hurry, as she was sometimes
obliged to do. She felt very glad that the
morning was fine, for to tell a homely truth,
her shoes-well nigh worn ont--were far from
being water proof. She had sat all day with
wet feet once before from the same cause, and
much need she had to be careful Cf her health
for her mothers sake. She had few acquain-
tances on the road She traversed-though she
was familiar as their own children's faces to all
the small tradesmen--they saw her PASS so reg
ular, morning and evening. The green grocer
would frequently tell his wife that it was time
to get breakfast for the Young lady with the
music paper was abroad. The toll gate keeper
was Lucy's only speaking acquaintance of the
male sex. He had always a kind word for her.
Nor did Lucy fail to ask him after the child
that was scaded-a trightful accident that-or
whether his eldest girl was at service yet, and
other little queries. "Thero she goes" the man
would say, when she had turned from him.
"Her's is hard life, poor thing"
"Not hard at all Mister Marten," rctorted
Dame Wringlinen on one occasion. Hard,
indeed think she has got a very easy berth
OF. Put her over washing tub, and give her
three or four old counterpancs for morning
work, and see what she's make ot."
"Ah, you don't know all :" said the toll keep
er, Significantly. And he was right.
The lady at whose house Lucy commenced
the instructions of the day, was very nervous
person; she was extremely irrascble. Lucys
knock offended her. She hated single knocks.
Why had they a bell, if it was not to exempt
the house from the vugarity of single knocks ?
once, III II III Ol lOlRtllulutSS, Tue RONGIutSS
gave palpitatiug double knock, and then Mrs.
Robert Smith was ustonished at her presump-
ton. "Miss-, Miss, | forget your name
Mrs. Robert Smith often coutrved to forget a
name which was the property of an humble de-
partment, and was SO much better than her
| own.
"tiinchclif, Ma'am,' prompted Lucy on the
occasion referred to.
"Ah, linchclif, Well, Miss lIinchclif, if, for
the future, you would not give double knock
you would am very diShabille, it set me ali in
a tlutter. You obliGe me. l really thought il
was visitors, and as should consider my nerves.
Miss Hinchcf."
Poor Lucy! If she could have afforded to
be so much in fashion as to own TO the posses
sion of nerves, the lady's nervousness would
have infected her.
"Now, Miss IIinchcliA," said Mrs. Robert
Smith, when the governess had taken off her
bonnet and shawl on the morning we made
her acquaintance "are you up in those new
quadrilles yet ?'
81 am very sorry, Ma'am, but have been sc
much enSaeed-l took them home the day be.
fore yesterday, and 50 little of my time is my
Own"
"Well, Miss IIinchclif of course, if YOU
have too many engagements, and my dear chill
dren are to be neglected on that account, it will
be Mr.. Robert Smiths duty 20 seek another
responsible person, whose engagements are not
so numerous you cannot object to that / am
sure"
'Oh Ma'am," was Lucy's lalterng reply;
am too happy to be employed by you. vii
be sure to get the quadrlles ready tomorrow
God pity her. She spoke the truth. She wal
too happy to be employed by Mrs. Rober
Smith.
81 will excuse you this time, Miss IIinchclifi,
said the lady, conciatcd by Lucys answer
"but shall certainly expect the quadrilles TO
morrow. think you said when we first en-
gagged you, that you taught Italian? Priscill
is to learn it,"
81 shall be most happy, Maom," replet
Lucy, Frightening up.
"Mr. Robert Smith says he has read-he i
great reader you know-that there are som
very pretty poems in Italian, though he cale,
one by shocking name--a kind Of playhous
thing"
(Which was that, Ma'am ?" inquired Lucy
mentally reverting to Godoni and Metasta,io
you ought to tell me-" replied the lady
"You know Of course-the pretty Italian poem
with the playhouse name"
"Do you mean Dantes Divine Comedir
Ma'am P"
"Yes, that is it, a very pretty poem is it not ?
ut is considered very fine poem, Ma'am.'
! eyes, prettyo or fine, that's what Mr. Rober
Smith called iii though think if It's com
edy it shouldn't be called Divine"
! Iucy assured the lady that the Divine Come