The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1867-06-26
PRISCILLA'S LOT.
A Story i'm Three Chapters.
BY GEORGIANA N. CRAIK.

OItROIy duO Ills 0d 0S Ii
ter Priscilla had for many years lived
alone in cottage standing at the ex-
tremity of a struggling village, and re-
moved by some little distance from
any other dwelling. Hutchinson was,
as far as means went, above the rank
of an ordinary laborer. The source
from which he derived his living-for
he carried on no visible occupation
was indeed unknown in the village,
and formed amongst the neighbors a
subject of unwearied and endless spec
ulation, but it was at least certain that
however acquired, money was not
scarce with him. He lived quietly, for
he was not man given to hospitality;
but he lived in comfort. The few who
were ever invited to cross his thresb-
hold, were accustomed to speak with
envious admiration of the signs Of
worldly well-being which met their
eyes within. l saywith envious admi
ration. for Gregory was not popular
man amongst his neighbors. He was
a close, surly, cross grained fellow,
who even in his best moods, had sell
dom a pleasant word for any one; with
"a british love of drinking too, which
led him to sit for hours daily mud
ding himself alone, duly and stupidity
adding glass to glass, till his eyes
would grow bleared and vacant, or
he would drop off as he sat into
drunken sleep. 7l9l1iagj
He had lost his wife before he came
to settle in the place, shes buried
far enough away" he told a neighbor
one day, In rare moment of conf
dence, hundreds an hundreds O.
miles across tn sea. She'd never ha'
lived in this country. She were an
American-south country hand
some CELL as ever we saw, Somethin
like Pris, only Pris is long and lean,
and she were as plump when first /
took up wi her as young gigeon.''
1t was three and twenty years ago,
he said, since she had died, and Pris-
ella was four or FIVE years older than
that. A silent, reserved woman; very
quiet, very handsome. but liked by
few people. She's as proud as though
she were queen O. the whole country"
the neighbors used to say. ruffiing
their plum ge in angry agitation when
they spoke of her. But they were
wrong. Proud she was, but not the
way they thought. Hers was sor-
rowful, crushed pride, not queenly
pride at all pride born of shame,
not of honor. There was scarcely
one of those towards whom she was
the haughtiest that she would not
have changed places with if she could.
But she was not liked, because she
would neither endure pity nor give
confidence; and most people, with
very little knowledge of the truth,
spoke i'll of her.
Even the men of the place, hand
some as she was, seldom ha ] much to
say in defence OF her. When she first
came to the village, splendid gypsy
looking girl, they had gathered with
rustic enthusiasm about her, and she
might have had dozen lovers at one
time if she had liked, but she had,
with cold Indifference, repulsed them
all. She had ether things to think
about. she told them sternly. Old
Gregory, too-when some one or two,
holder than the rest, bad tried to force
their way into the house-in half
drunken rage, yet, with a glimmer of
cunning sharpness in his old blear-
ed eyes, had reused himself, and
routed them from the field with Wig
or that left them little courage for
new assault. SO Priscilla lovers had
by degrees dropped off, and at the
Nv" his story begins, when she was
eo,.u-u,i,.- twenty, she had not one.
nor had she had for years Yet she |
had never been handsomer than she
was now. She was too tall and spare,
perhaps, but she was a woman whom
no stranger could have crossed unno-
ticed. You would have turned 20
look at her if you had passed her in
the street. if you had spent FIVE min
utes with her you would have been
haunted afterwards by her face.
1t was seven o'clock on a Summer
evening, and Gregory and Priscilla
sat together in the kitchen of their
cottage. 1t was a comfortable, WE'LL
kept room, the furniture excellent of
its kind. the whitewashed walls bright |
withwell -scoured tins, and the whole
place scrupulously clean. There was
little enough decoration of any kind |
about it; in the whole room perhaps
there was only one thing that was not
of use--a y solitary geranium plant
standing upon the window-silI.
Priscilla sat by the window, making
a cotton gown; her father was at his
usual occupation. He was not drunk
as yet, butwa only preparing himself
to be so; or, in his own way of con
sidering the matter, beginning to
be comfortable" and was, as
occasionally happened at this
stage of his condition, inclined |
to be what tor him might be |
considered talkative and good
hu mored. ,fss s
There's Jim Stokes, up Mill way;
his wife's got lass. Did We hear that.