Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1865-07-07
Too Severe.
"a STORY SAD AND TRUE

| hock' 'Tock-rock--hoW last she springs
her rocking~chair backwards and for
wards, her tongue flying even faster, wait
ing not one instant TO heed what other:
said or TO make answer. And so, hour
after hour, till all who heard her were
weary and worn out, but no one would
ask her to cease, for fear of displeasiag
her and increasing tho terrible fever
which goaded her on.
She was woman of forty, well shaped
and fine featured, with light hair, large
blue eyes, and the fairest of complications
One could see that she had been hand
some, though now SO thin and haggard
her eyes so wild and her hair SO dry and
disordered. listened to her uncontrolla.
BILE stream of talk in silence, but with a
heart breaking in pity for her, for in all
she said there was not one word of joy,
or hope, or comfort.
AT last her excitement seemed to have
spent itself, and her physical nature be-
gan to sink. She complained of exhaus-
ton and sought her bed. Then, when
she was gone, asked who she was.
They said her name was Harriet Hen
ley. Her father was an honest, industri.
Gus mechanic, who had brought up his
children to be honest and industrious.
Harriet was a good girl respected by
every one, but she was delicate, and early
trouble had disturbed her mind. She
was a tailoress, and when she had over
worked, was apt to be crazy. Then she
suffered as / haYe described.
When I next saw her she was more
quiet and self.controlled, though far from
being well. She was still talkative, and
told me the story Of her ruin +; and as |
know it to be true, l tell it again as
lesson, warning to well-meaning but Sc
we're and uncousiderate mothers, who,
confident 10 the excellence Of their inten-
tions, run headlong into injustice and
even cruelty; who, while they magnify
the value of truth and rectitude, forget
the surprising eloquence of love who
over estimate their care, and watchfulness.
and firmness, and depreciate their tender
ness which is not only the best grace Of
the mother, but very often her most
sacred duty. Such mothers are always
the last to see their faults, and acknowl-
edge, and forsake them. Seldom, until
it is too late, will they give heed to caution,
and check the intensity of their own feel.
ings, to consider that they may be guilty
of greater sin than they reprove when
they are unjust to the young, the weak
and the respondent; when they refuse
to be pitiful TO human weakness, or mer-
ciful to human sin. 1t is for such tell
the story of poor Harriet Henley in her
own way.
"You know" she said to me, "perhaps
you know am a tailoress. Though /
learned my trade when quite young, l
understood it well and used to work in
some Of the best families in H. /
worked a great deal for Mr.. Stanley, who
was the richest man in the place aud had
a large family of boys. His eldest son
was handsome and agreeable young
man, but somewhat dissipated. II is
manners with young women we're much
too free, and he often displeased and
panied me with familiarities which |
thought he would not have dared to show
me, had | not been a poor seamstress.-
But felt that it would be unwise for me
to do more than repel them in a quiet
way, on account of bis parents, on whom
| was dependent. But somehow ru-
NOR that / was too intimate with him was
set ahoat, and soon spread through the
town. 1t was mortifying and hard for
me 10 bear, and harder still for my
mother, who did not know my entire in.
nocence as l did, and was, perhaps troub.
ed with doubts as to the propriety of
ny conduct. Her questions, reproofs
md warnings humbled and distressed 1
ne, but perhaps they were proper.
have never been mother, and may not
De Judge. But suffered terribly and S
llone, without sympathy or comfort. II {
made me almost sick. Still kept on my |
work. / was sewing then at one of the t
ailor's shops, for the work in families |
vas done for the season. Sometimes, i
vnen there was a press for a custom o
made garment, took it home with me to 4
ihish after shop hours.
One night l was carrying home bun {,
lie of work, when George Stanley came y
p beside me, and snatching my buudle,
brew it ahead of me into the snow.
prang after it, as was natural, but he d
aught it first and threw it again, and in
pite of all could say, kept up the frolic :
i'll | was almost home. Then as he gave
ne my bundle, without my suspecting
THAT he was going to do, be flung his "
rm around my neck and kissed me. i e
ant transport bundles for nothing he n
aid, aud walked off laughing. was it
ngry at bis rudeness and distressed on L
ccount of my reputation, for we were in t(
ght of half dozen houses, and l knew o.
lere would be fresh rumors afloat only D
70 soon. knew my mothers disposit- tf
N too we'll to disclose to her anything et
what had happened, and silently sat m
own TO my work. My fingers never p'
sw so fast before as they did that night, Sc
I'd my work was finished before l went W
bed, though l had told my employer le
at it was impossible for any one to do it 81
7 the hour appointed for its delivery, IN
ext morning. Of course did not sleep sv
ucb. The next day as 1 had feared, iii
ere was great deal of whispering and ro
tering among my shopmates at my ex> an
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