Lewistown gazette. [volume] (Lewistown, Pa.) 1843-1944, 1867-06-26
a GOOD STORY
ROSANNA, THE UGLY ONE.
FROM THE FRENCH

But look, then said Mrs Moore. tc
her husband, 'how ugly that little one
is. Is she not, William
And Mr.. Moore, who was sitting in
rocking chair, amusing himself with
poking the fire, laid down the tongs he
held and gravely answered his wife:
But, my dear, you have already
said SO one hundred times, and were
you to say it one hundred times more.
Rose would not become less ugly for
your saying So
Rosanna was little girl Of about
fourteen. She was their only child,
and to do her mother justice, was real
ly very ugl ly-nay, almost revolving
with her little gray eyes, fiat nose,
large mouth, thick protruding lips, red
hair, and, above all, form remarka-
bly, awry.
Rose was, then, very ugly-but she
was a sweet girl, nevertheless. Kind
and intelligent, she possessed a mind
Of the highest order Nature seemed
to have compensated her with every
good quality of the heart for the want
VI every DcduIS Vi person.
The poor little thing was profound
ly hurt, as she listened to her mothers
observation Oh, you little fright, you
will never get a husband
Eight o'clock struck; Mrs. Moore
was sorely vexed
go to bed, Rosanna.'
Tremblingly the little girl approach.
ed her mother, to give her the kiss of
good night
'Tis useless, you little monster said
her mother.
A tear rolled from the little ones
eye. She hastily wiped it away, and
turning to the father, presented him
the yet humid check
He kissed her tenderly
| am not altogether miserable she
murmured, leaving the room.
Retiring to her chamber, she com.
menced embroidering a scarf and
worked thus part of the night, for she
desired to present it to her mother,
when she arose in the morning.
The clock struck twelve She had
just finished, and putting it by, the lit
tie girl calmly resigned herself to rest
He repose was undisturbed
On the morrow Rose presented the
scarf to her mother. What was the
pain the little one experienced, when
her mother received it coldly, and ex
pressed none Of those tender sentiments
which were to have been the sweet lit
tie ones reward.
Her eyes, by chance, glanced over
a neighboring mirror.
Yes, she said, internally, L am
ugly-they are right and she sought
in her own head to find remedy for
ugliness.
And then in the world-ncw pangs
wounded the little ugly ones heart a
first impression alienated all the young
girls of her own agc-but then she was
so good, so amiable, so amusing, that
they approached, then listened, and
then loved her. Now, indeed, our lit
tie one was happy.
violent passion, and became, in conse-
quence of some trihing prevarication,
highly incensed against his wife Their
domestic felicity was troubled for eight
long days; for eight long days Mrs.
Moore was continually crying, Ro
sanna in vain racked her young brains
to discover why-but her father still
continued angry, and her mother was
still continually weeping. At last she
reflected in her mind how to reconcile
them.
They were all three seated in the
parlor--Mr. Moore was arranging the
fre-when this was concluded, he
threw the tongs from him, snatched
book from the mantle, and opened it
abruptly; but, after a moments peru
sal, he closed it again, in a violent hui
NOR, cast fierce glance at his tremb-
ling wife, and hurriedly rose from his
chair.