Delaware tribune. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1867-1877, 1867-08-15

thiuSl III thC ihuiIJs 0hc Aoh hNAN AsSSSNs
Wynyard in her arms, an infant, and she
had streaked him for his grave. Nobody
had known him SO long, loved him so blind
ly, excused him SO unwearyingly as she.
While the coffin remained open, she watched
by 1t unresting; and since the morning
when it closed, she had wandered to and fro
the house, muttering her vain lamentation
to any hearer or none. 1t was quite uncon-
sciously that she moaned now, almost In the
widows ear; He's gone-he's gone! Oh,
woe is mo that could ha' lived to see it,"
"Yes, Jennie, he is gone = dead and
gone" said the widow, in low response; F;
sand Eastwold must pass from his children.
The time is fully come no foot of it is theirs
any more" The sound Of her plaintive
voice restored Jenny to sence of where she
was was; and when she spoke again it was
| in d less dreamy and abstracted tone.
"My hearts sore for them and for you,
mistress. They don't favour much O. their
father, but love 'em as well as if they did
I've nursed you every one, BARNS, an now
you'll go an leave me"
At this touch the girls tears overflowed.
You will come with us, Jenny" sobbed
Anna.
"No, no, no; sal never, never part from
TIL auld placer
Mrs. Wynyard shut her aching eyes as
Lois pressed up to her with tender caresses,
and sweet whispers of, Mamma, Mamma,
which broke soon into a loud cry of ire
pressible childish anguish.
"Hush, husl," murmured the mother,
fondling the fair head against her bosom
"oh, hush, my Lois, my darling! You were
his pet, his treasurc--he loved you best"
The boys stole one by one away. John
Hutton, Squire Raymond, and DR.. Philip
followed them, and the women-folk were
left to ease their oppressed SOULS and to wal
out in the deepening gloom of the New
Years Eve.
An hour ortwo later they all met again
except John Hutton and the Widow. He
was closeted with Mr.. Hargrove in the Ii
brary, and she was gone up with Jenny tt
the stiffness of her own chamber. Squire
Raymond took Squire Vineyards seat, which
he would never take more, and soon routet
out the miserable chill air Of the drawing
room, by heaping the fire with massive log
that threw ruddy CLEAN into its furthes
corner. His rubicund presence was com
fort to the forlorn children. Good cheer ant
kindness shone from his face as from thu
iovial fire. "It is what we must all CONF
to- was his sole reference to the day
events, and than he began to talk to the boy
of their future. All, what consolation, wha
store of splendid hope in the future of tn
very young! In ten minutes every counte
nance was clear, and every eye was brigh
( and steadfast.
Robert Wynyard's blurred and anxiou
, visage was not perpetuated in any Of his Chi
dren. They took after their mothers PEE
pie. Maurice and Lois owned the beautif'
Vineyard eyes, but boys and girls both, the
: had all the stout, resolute Hutton tempel
DR.. Philip Raymond, who had never see
all his young kinsfolk together until the da
before, glanced from each to each as the
sat grouped about the hearth, and silentl
thanked God that if He had set a hard figf
before them in the battle of life, He had nj
: left them without vcapons. Tn counts
nance, air, and gesture, they all showed th
same natural vigor. Even Maurice, th
youngest boy, though slightly deformed, ,ha
breadth of frame and breadth of bro
!. that determined him no weakling either
= mind or body. He was less self-governe
!, than Francis or Gcoffrey, but he had the
= wit and their courage, and more. 1t was
Maurice that the learned doctor looked lon
:, est, saying to himself: s" He shall be n
:. boy" Indeed the others were already b
" spoken. Squire Raymond had given Fra
! J, els his commission, ana John Hutton h,
!, promised him his outfit; Geoffrey had be-
y offered start in the house of Forsyth al
!, Company, American merchants at Live
: pool. Mr.. Forsyth, the head OF the fri
. was married to Tom Martineau's sister; al
= the proposal to take Geoffrey into his Off
!, was considered very handsome.
= AS the young pc ,ple talked they grew
- cited, wild. Impossibilities put on the gui
~ ~ of quite likely things.
:, Francis must win the glory, and Ge'
:, : frey the money, and we will get Esstwt
again before we die!' shrieked Lois, t
~ most sudden, enthusiastic and glowing
~ them all.
=, "And what share shall mine be in the
~ storation!" asked Maurice
10 "Oh, your share shall be to put 1t all il
W. a song"
- "You have lived too much to yourselv
and have too exclusive bringing-up amo
" moors and books" said the Squire. ST
=, discipline of the outside world will do so
IS of you good"
r. "You cannot imagine the monotony
:. this house-the dulncss and oppression oi
- for the last four years, Anna sighed. If
=, had been Catholics and French, / sho,
o have taken the veil in some convent, q
=. Lois would be growing up to the same ia
n. but we are Protestants and English, Q
:" rn there is not that refuge for us. dread
~ change from the associations here VIII
U have kept us so long Our clothes are sh
va bier, and our meals homelier, than mi
'ha yeoman's children are; but there rem
wv about us a thousand signs of what we Ii
'aa been, and all the restraints Of honor I
aeo good blood"
"Those restraints do not belong to pl
only, Anna"
Francis may keep his name and
'"e sword bright together, and wear his coat
NOR with an air but Geoffrey-will
80, gather no sordid dust amongst his cot
bales? In few years he will have le'
ins a new language. He will laugh our old
tions down; he will think that money,
oAs money only, makes the world go.
w 1t is great power, Anna"
,a II know what the lack of it can do.
l., boys are escaping; but mamma, Lois
~. must still starve on as decently and
hov creetly aswe may. We cannot work
a., beg we are ashamed
"Women want very little, /" said Fral
!, who had sat long while silent with N
-, tative glance on the fire.