The Abingdon Virginian. [volume] (Abingdon [Va.]) 1849-1883, 1863-07-10


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ssLittie ElIen''-The Refugees.
We extract the following interesting mar
rative and beautiful sentiments, from one Of
the letters Of as. L." the correspondent Of the
Knoxville Register
The victims of Yankee outrages are every
where. Fugitives from Tennessee and Ken
lucky, and from the Northern counties of Mis-
sissippi, are to DO met on every thoroughfare
and in every village and hamlet in the land.
Many are penniless who never before have
known want, and old and young alike have
been made helpless exiles. Neither age, sex
nor condition has been spared. This morn
ing there passed through this place a penni-
less family. The father, an old man, his wife
much younger, and six children, all weary,
poorly clad, begrimed with dust, and foot
SORE More fatigued than the rest, there lin
gered behind q fair-haired little girl, slight,
sweet and fragile like her type, the lily of the
valley. Her little hand, as / took it in mine,
seemed almost to melt within my clasp. She
had large dark eyes. Her cheek was very
pale, save when an allusion to the hated race
of Mortimer lent it a passing flush; her fair,
open brow might hare defied an angels scru-
tiny; her light football was voiceless as fall
ing snowflake, and her voice was 'ssweet and
low and musical as the last note of the bird
ere it folds its head under its wing for its
nightly slumber." When the wagon halted,
little Ellen lshe told me her name afterwards)
sat down on a tuft of grass, and as she gazed
across the wide prairie, saw her crushing
her bright ringlets in the palm Of her tiny
hand. Her large eyes glowed, her cheek
was flushed and then grew pale. Her little
breast heaved, for the gorgeous west was one
sea of molten gold. Each bright tint seemed
to thrill her with strange rapture. She al
most held her breath as the changeful lights
and shadows deepened, faded, and then died
away, and now the last beam disappeared be-
hind the distant forest, and the soft grey twi-
light came creeping on. Amid its gathering
shadows, one bright star sprang suddenly to
its place in the heavens. While Ellen gazed
upon it, asked why she wept. She said that
she used to watch that very star when she sat
in the doorway of her own home. Her eyes
shone brightly through her tears that came
coursing down her sweet face, her limbs
trembled and her heart beat fast, as if she
feared to break the delightful spell which
memory had woven. a
On the next day again met little Ellen,
weary and istless, when the humble train
was passing through the village. She looked
30 sad and unlike the bright little Angel of
yesterday that I hardly recognized her. She
still followed the dust covered wagon, and as
she went down the street kept close to the
wall, as if she expected an oath or blow
She seemed to think that the few idlers along
the street were making merry with her soiled
clothes. One would suppose that she had
never known kind word in all her life
Rosy little children passed her on the way to
school, well-clad and joyous with mothers
parting kiss yet warm on their sweet lips
There seemed happiness enough in the world,
but there was none for the homeless little ex-
ile
Two merry. laughing children came trip
ping along. Ellen looked at them with that
sad, plying look with which old age regards
che vivacity Of youth. They were attracted
by Ellen's sweet face, SO sad, so beautiful
They asked where she was going, whether
she had mother, and why she was leaving
her home. Ellen gave recital Of her mis-
fortunes. It is common story now, so often
repeated that it hardly moves the tenderest
chords Of human sympathy. Her Oldest bro
ther was in the army, the next, mere boy,
was sent to Northern prison; her fathers
house had been burned and his farm laid
waste, her parents were driven away and go
ing whittier she knew not.
With plying looks the two school children
heard Ellcn's simple, touching story. One Of
them said she knew her mother would love
and provide for Ellen, and that she should
share her toys if she would 60 to her home.
faint color tinged Ellen's cheeks. and her
eyes grew liquid as she raised them thank.
fully and looked into the face of her child
bonefactress. She said that her own sick
mother was in that little wagon, and that she
could not leave her.
The school children shared the contents of
their basket with Ellen, and when they part
ed Ellen's heart was lighter than before
Her form was erect, her step quick-the sum
I shine Of human love had lighted on her path
way.
Earth is not all darkness. The heart of
childhood is not made pitiless by the count
less woes, widespread desolations and heart