The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1863-01-09
BIDDEFORD, MAINE, FRIDAY MORNING,

ceeueu III stopping tuc pfoStOoS VI sh0 h"ihN')'
anxiety for the safety of my husband and
child, and my inability to move, overcame me
again, and again tainted. When once moro
recovered was lying on comfortable bed
in the house Of friend, my babe beside me.
Then learned that my husband had been
badly burned. and had come near perishing;
for the house took frc again in the middle OF
the night, and, with several Others, was to-
tally consumed, but that barely an hour be
fore had been searched for and found, in.
sensible
'And how did you feel then2' snappishly
inquired Miss Frctt.
'Unspeakably happy that four precious
lives were spared; my children's, my hus-
bands, my own replied Aunt Atkinson
with reproving look.
These reverses dampened my husbands
spirits considerably, and for years he toiled
along, while we lived without luxuries OF
any kind, and with hardly convenience
NV daughter was born in the midst of our
deepest poverty. wondered. then, how we
should raise her, little, sickly thing, deli.
cate from her birth. But she lived, thank
od!-lived to be my comfort; lived to aid
me with her own hands.
Aunty grew silent, and the squre's lady
was pcrplexing herself with conjecture as to
the noble farm and handsome house which
the Atkinsons owned in the village. when
the narrator, after few thoughtful moments,
resumed her story.
Five years ago. she said. 'just as we
were struggling to keep the boys at school,
1--WE could not think Of sending them to col
lege,) my husband saw chance notice in n
daily paper, calling the attention of the rel.
atives of one John Atkinson, and requesting
an attendance upon certain lawyer as soon
as possible. Ho went, and tho result was,
he found himself rich man; the old gentle
man having owned immense estates in the
West Indies, and he, being his nearest and
most direct heir, inherited all. Since then,
God has blessed us more than we Deserve
We have known only plenty and gracious
ness from his hand
But how can you wear so clear brow,
asked the squiro's lady, replacing her spccta-
cles and taking up her neglected needless at
ter so many years of SORROW
Because I always felt that oil 'things
would work together for good to those who
love God. replied the dear old lady; that
Affections spring not from the ground, but
are sent for our good. Besides, | strovc to
be most Christian when was in trouble !;
to trust Him most when His providences
were darkest; to walk under the cloud with
he staff of faith in my hand, till God pleas
ed to show me sunlight. Which would you
love best-the child that fawned while you
caressed, and grew cold, revengcfnl and an
cry at your chastisement, or that one which
receives all things with meekness and sweet
submission, whether good or evil (seemlngly
evil to him) at your hands?'
The squirc's wife was silent.
Some people can bear anything, but l
can't, nor l never SHALL calculated Miss
Frett; 'it amt in my nature
Neither was it in mine; neither can it be
in any, till purified with that spirit which
the divine Ono wore,' returned Aunt Atkin-
son. But see how glorious the crimson of
the setting sun falls on the chestnut trees
Yes, and there is Cole to say supper is
ready in tho arbor, remarked the more prac-
tical lady OF the squire, as the honest face OF
the servant appeared,
NO, ma am, said Colo, with practiced
bow; 1--WE come to tell you that Kitty's broke
the great chany bowl Of the squire's.'
20, my goodness = cried his mistress, with
u face of absolute distress. I'D rather most
anything'd happened. What shall | do?-
What loss The squirc'll turn Kitty of
tomorrow. 1t does seem as if should die
with that girl! I'm just the unluckiest be.
ing in the world! To think-that the bowl
has been in the family for twenty-five years,
and the careless jade must 60 and break 1t (!
She might just US we'll have broken my heart;
for l.
She paused, meeting the merry twinkle,
strangely mixed with glance Of sorrow, in
Aunty Atkinsou's eye. In confusion, she
tried to apologize.
'Ahv said aunty, shaking her head,
'where the treasure is, there will the heart
be also.'
The squire's lady was silent; she felt the
rebuke, and no longer wondered why the
calm brow Of her friend was yet unwrinkled,
the soul unshaken. All her life she herself
had been fighting for and srievipg over tri.
fes, while aunty had fixed her eye solely on
heaven, and the storms Of adversely were oil
under her feet. Happy are you, reader, If
you go and do likewise. Mary A. Denni.
son.
wThe gunny bag Of our commerce is