North Branch democrat. [volume] (Tunkhannock, Pa.) 1854-1867, 1863-06-10

own age but then she was 80 good 80 amia-
BILE, SO amusing, that they approached, then
listened and then loved her. Now, indeed
our little one was happy.
One day Mr.. Moore went home in violent
passion, and became, in consequence of some
trifing prevarication, highly incensed against
his wife. Their domestic felicity was troub-
led for eight long days,-for eight long days
Mrs Moore was continually crying. Rosan-
ma in vain racked her young brains to discov-
er why-but her father still continued angry,
and her mother was still continually weeping
At last she reflected in her mind how to
rec oncile them.
They were all three seated in the parlor-
Mr.. Moore was arranging the fire when this
was concluded, he threw the tongs from him,
matched book from the mantle, and opened
it abruptly but, after moments perusal,
he elesed it again, in violent humor, cast a
fierce glance at his trembling wife, and hur-
riedly rose from his chair
Rosanna, deeply moved, clasPed her arm S
about his neck as he was about to rise and
affectionately caressed him. He could no
reject her innocent coaxing, and the little
girl thinking she had succeeded in touching
his heart, took in her hands the moistened
handkerchief wherewith her mother had been
drying her weeping eyes, and dried them a
second time Herewith she then tenderly
embraced her mo ther, who returned her af
tectionate caress with all mothers fondness
The parties being now favorably disposed'
naught remained but to establish the peace
This was no easy matteI-neither would
make. the first overture-and without the
penetration of little Rose the reconciliation
| would not have taken place.
She took her fathers hand between her
own little hands, and pressed it to her DO,
som she then took her mothers hand and
Joined 1t to her fathers as il lay on her heart
Human pride could resist no longer-the al
lcnated parents rose at the same moment and
| embraced each other.
From that hour Rose was the idol of them
| both.
| Six years after this, Re Sanna, the ugly Ro-
sanna, was the ornament of every society to
which hel mother presented her. Aniable,
witty, and observing her conversation was
universally courted.
One summer evening, the sun, which, dur
ring the day, had shed over nature an intense
heat, had just disappeared, leaving the hori-
zon covered with long wide bands of red
clouds more and more dark were heapng
themselves on the eastern sky-the atyaos-
phere was sufiocaLing, and one would deem
the earth returning to he sun the heat she
had been receiving during the day. All was
heavy and weary-the air inhaled seemed
rather to suffocate than nourish. A drowsy
languor overcame every one.
In saloon, whose every window wa
thrown open, might be seen gliding, here ant
there, in the darkened light, groups Of young
females, whose white dresses, slightly agita
ted by the rising breeze of the evening, offer
ed something mysterious and poetical where
en- the imagination loved to dwell. A low
laughing whisper was then heard, like th'
soothing murmur of some distant rivulet.
young woman, seated before piano was ex
pressing her hearts sentiments by an extern
porary melody, now smooth and tender, nov
deep and trembling.
No more whispering, but general silenc
took place, for here was a celestial sympho
ny, seraph's song.
; Lord Underw ood, fine blue eyed youn;
nobleman, was so deeply touched by the melo
dy, that his frame seemed agitated by a me
mentary convulsion. He listened to the an
gels voice, so softly harmonizing with th
tones of the instrument, and felt an indies Glib
able sensation thrill through his frame.
The music ceased, but the sweet voice still
vibrated on Underwood's ear, and there was
charm in the witty and original tritie &
which he listened, that transfxed him where
he stood.
"How beautiful must that young girl be,
thought Underwood. "Happy the man o.
whom may fall her CHOICE"
and he involuntarily sighed.
Suddenly lights were brought in. Th
young woman was the ugly Rosanna.
Lord Underwood was stupefed-he close
his eyes, but the charm of that voice haunte
his memory. He gazed on her second tim
and he found her less ugly ; and Rose wa
indeed, less ugly. The beouties of the min
, seemed transferred to her person and he
gray eyes small as they were, expressed wor
derfully well her internal sensualities.
1 Lord Underwood welded Rosanna, and b
e came the happiest of men in tne possession
the kindest and most loving Of women.
Q Beauty deserts US, but virtue and talent
e the faithful companions of our lives, accon
t pany us to the grave. e. f,-E-
EEThe editor of the New Orleons Tim
| L. 10 lodi oF