The Xenia sentinel. [volume] (Xenia [Ohio]) 1863-186?, 1863-12-22

then, more than l had ever before, that We
we're alone-We were apart from all with
whom we mingled. 1 was so sadly sensi-
bic of our having no claim-tEat IS, no
rightful claim-upon the kindness Of those
who surrounded me, and the love Of
strangers was a cultivated sympathy, a
love kindred to pity. No, I could not
take It as such. and / wrapped me in my
cheefless isolation, ard crushed the yearnF
ing in my Woman,s heart. ] felt, too
that I would need assistance, for the NOS
hattering hopes could not deceive me. l
had watched my mothers falling health
too long, and her cough had come with the
falling Of the leaf for the past two years
such terrible warning to me. 1t was
the only voice that spoke Of her suffering
she never complained. And her face
had worn a new expression that others who
loved her and myself had seen, but would
not acknowledge it even to ourselves; 1t
was as though each day she had, in coming
closer to the white throne, caught some
thing Of the glory Of the presence, and
that, in. approaching the portal of the
Gperfeot day" its light had fallen upon
her countenanc0.
was afraid that even my love could
not render me capable Of the proper care
she would need, and had obtained the
promise Of purchased assistance in the
morning. 1t made me feel sorrowful
.anew-to feel this was my only right I
said it to myself over, and over, as a child
cons her lesson, and as my mother slept
TRANQUILITY, persisted in being left alone,
and their kind hearts most reluctantly
gratifed-I was going to say my wish,
but looking back through the dim vista Of
years, perhaps because of the distance,
perhaps because Of a brighter experience
in sincere friendship, l substitute the
word-pride. It was quite late now.
The night was sultry, not a breath of air
seemed to stir the cuHains of the window
at which I sat 1 leaned out to look down
the forsaken street. The few and solitary
pedestrians always went by. I can not
account for my expecting some one, but
did. Twas continually looking out into
the night, and waiting for the swift foot
fall to stop suddenly, but 1 was always dis
appointed, And whom I looked for, or
why, remains as great a mystery to me at
the present time. Ever and anon I caught
the distant music of the band playing in
the grounds of the college building, and it
had weird sound that surely was not
part cf these ogoU Measures, and which
the widest Scottish air has not assumed to-
me since Ihe clouds drifted over the
face eat white moon, so cold, so
dumb, whose glory, like that of the stars,
seemed far off. There was no voice in na-
ture. No comfort. Life seemeda dreary
waste without an oasis, a SOULS Sahara
Looking at it from this Commencement it
was like standing upon a dreary shore,
whose base the black waters Of a dead sea
erept and lay motionless. [ contrastsd
the day and the night. It was 50 opposed /
to the rosy flush of. dawn that pervaded
the day, when the fatigue of examinations
creditablysspassed, was over, and acquaint-
ances and strangers pressed about me to
bestow applause and congratulations 1
buried my throbbing brow upon my
clenched hands, and hoped the Hangel
within" might soon break the prison
bars. In a moment Of weakness I
prayed that God would let me de-
part with my mother I implored Him
often afterward, in swordless prayer, as
the events Of my life came, recalled like
those of a drowning person are said to o@be,
and I found that all happiness, all joy, all
real pleasure was centered in her, and that
with her, a beauty from nature, all glory
from the Seasons, an indwelliDg spirit of
delight, glitteripg from earth would have
passed away forever.
The band played low, plaintiye air,
that broke upon the startled atmosphere
like a benediction. There was a stir in
the streets Carriages of all sizes and de-
scriptions rolled noisily away over the
pave. The mingling echoes of footsteps
near and distant, and the greeting of,
voices, at the very door below, reused me.
My mother moaEed softly in her sleep. I
approached her bedside, but there was
nothing my impatient hands could do.
must wait Gods time How the prompt
ings of our poor miserable human loves
shrink back paralyzed in such seasons.
While I stood waiting the first command
that might be given by the lips that posi-
bly, would be fixed in last smile ere long.
the merry laughter in the hall below
grated upon my trained ears. I turned
away t. pace the floor, and in doing so,
suddenly found the arms CT Clara about
me, and her head fell upon my shoulder.
Then I wept my first tears We wept
together over our grief Did I say our
grief2 Well, let it remain so. Clara, to
sincere hearts like thine, friends sorrow
comes as beavily. Orr grief, God bless
her. Our grief, the burden-lessened,
Gods mercy overshadowing us The
stone rolling away from the hearts sepul-
cher, and angels sitting within the dark
ness, clothed in light
"Clara," I said, thank you for com
ing " that was all. She never knew the
rest; it remained with God Darling,
darling" was her only response. and it
touched me beyond any ether expression.
Then We put our tears by and looked away
to mocking brightness She told me all
about the exhibition, and I listened with
partial eagerness Then she slipped away
from my side, and out of the room, return
ing in a moment with a most beautiful
boquet of moss rose-buds and geranium
leaves, and with a smile she held it before
my admiring eyes, and bid me guess who
had sent it. / made several vain endeav-
ors, more to beguile her to smiling than