The Vermont transcript. [volume] (St. Albans, Vt.) 1864-1870, 1868-04-24


Of remorseful tears and thousands rush
from its pitilessness and seek deeper
woe, deeper wretchedness, tasting on
earth the torments of hell.
Woman, reared daintily, clad in pur-
pie and in fine linen" the blood of your
sisters are on your skirts-it cries out
to heavenl How will you still that
cry? How will you answer for it be-
fore that tribunal where all shall here
after stand?
Man, look to it, fouled with impurity
your hearts reeking with evil, the blood
! of innOcents on your sOuls-sOciety yet
welcomes you with a smile and caress.
Look to it, that in the hereafter your
| condemnation may not be an hundred
fold
Darker and darker doomed the clouds
above the political horizon of our cOun-
try; mutterings of fiery-tongued war
/ grew louder, until they rolled in start
| ling thunder tones, and still the North
slept. Then came the firing upon Sum-
ter, and with one heart and one voice
| the country awoke. The cry ''To armsl"
| pealed out, and thousands from the East
| from the North, and from the West,
/ hurried to snatch the sword, to gather
| at the beat of drum, to march forward
| emn melodies, that echoing through
| the land, stirred the blood and kindled
/ the soul of every man who had not east
/ his manhood down to be trOdden under
| foot. And now Wentworth Hunting
/ don sought Allie. He knew where TO
| find her As she kneeled between the
graves of father and mother, in the dim
twilight, he leaned modify against
ightning-shattered pine tree. 1T was
fitting" he exclaimed, ''that he should
lean there while she prayed" He could
not pray, but he watched her as she laid
her fearful face on the violet-specked
sod of her fathers grave. When she
arose, he went to her, his face CHASTITY
white in the moonlight.
''Allie -
She caught at the headstone for sup
port.
"AllieN she scarcely knew his voice,
it was so changed, II am not fit to touch
the hem your garment, and yet dare
to love you still-and / lCiH. It's the
only thing that keeps me from being
devil. RemOrse is eating away my
heart. I've become an old man, since
since that night. | shall go to the war,
my country calls, and Nemesis puTsues.
/ wanted to seeyOu before / went. Allie!
say again that you forgive me-will you
not pr
Wentworth you turned my day of
laughing into mourning; you embitter-
ed my life. | thought | stood on rock
and 10 it crumbled beneath my feet
and yet | do forgive you!''
He caught her in his arms, and placing
her on the grave, sat beside her. Long
he talked; he felt that it might be the
last time. he looked after her wistful-
~ as she returned through the moon
light, then he went back to home he
hated. He had sold himself for gOld.-
He reaped even as he had sOwn. a
bouquet, with a note crushed in, bearing
the only word, Goodbye" told Allie
of his departure for Washington.
She moved gently about the house as
time wore on, she eheered the weary,
comforted the sorrOwful, wept with
mourning ones; and, as accompanied by
Sophie, she wendell her way from house
to house, the blessings of the poor, the
destitute, the stricken, followed her.
Doctor Lewis called her his eO-wOrker.
She was this, more than ever, when the
diptheria ragged, couple of years later,
in the same vicinity.
She was out one morning, taking her
usual rounds, when she heard pattering
steps behind her, and felt her dress
pulled. \ little voice, old and strange
for a child, said:
"Please won't you come ,"
. Come where, child?" and she
smOOthed back the elfish, black locks,
straying from the little things old
hood.
Cup there"
Allie looked. 1t was the Simonson
mansion. Proudly it stood, almost dis
daining the sheltering arms of the great
trees waving around it. As she looked,
a GOODNESS crept through her frame. But,
bending quietly over the child, she
questioned:
For what do you want me?"
Cause she's sick, and there's no.
body"
"Nobody?''
Nobody but me; and I'm too little"
How long has she been i'll ~ Allie
further inquired.
"A few days. She was took with q
headache and sore throat"
where's Mr.. SimOnson ~
'Gone away, over the water. He
won't be back in ever so long. He took
me from the Island-he did"
'And the servants ?"
''Skedaddled. They said il was catch
in. COachman's gone, an all. / can't
do much-and, oh, she's so sick ~
The little, oldish voice quivered, and
the black, elfish eyes, shaded by straight,
black, eltish, hair, filled with pain, as
she begged:
"Oh, won't YOU cOme-wOn't yOu?"
Allie hesitated no longer. Taking the
cold, trembling fingers within her own.
she hurried with the child to the en-
trance of the mansion. She followed
her through silent halls, up soft-carpet-
ed stairways, until her little guide final
ly opened a door, bObbed her quaint
curtesy, and slipped across the room to
the bedside.
II found somebody, ma'am.r
The sick woman looked up-IOoked
with a gratitude, as Allie bathed her
temples and arranged her more eoInfor-
tably, that sank deep into her heart.
Evidently Sarah did not recognize her.
1t was well. Her presence there could
add no pang to her last moments, for
Sarah Huntingdon was dying. Moth
ing could save her. 1t was too late Had
Allie known ii sooner, "she might. per-
haps, God willing" she thought, for her
heart melted towards her. Alone, de-
serted, save by one wee human waifI
And she watched over Sarah, teuderly.
lovingly. Tenderly, because she was
Wentworth's wife /; lovingly, because
the words she had read that morning.
'DO unto others as we would that others
should do to YOU" threaded, Ikea gold
en- cord, in and out the canvas of her
thought. Suffering, too, had made her
Christ-like. He was, indeed, her elder
Brother.
1t was pitiable, but Sarah could not
speak. The disease had made too much
progress, and when Allie asked her if
she would have doctor, she only shook
her head. There were lines ofsuffering
not of the body-wroughti in those fair,
beautiful features. The face of the wo-
man who bent over her blanched as her
soft hand traced them, and she remem-
bered the bitter prayer of that bitterest
day OF her life, II wish she might be
unhappy with it all ~ The sufferers
eyes held a look of yearning that Allie
could not satisfy, until she read to her
from the Word.
And so she cared for her until the last.
Cared for her-lovingly, tenderiy-so
that Sarah closed her eyes with the
grateful look lingering there, and died
with her hand clinging to Allies.
And now Allie wondered what she
could do. III only she might see Doctor
Lewis. But she could not leave the
child alone. At last her mind became
clear.
''Do you know the way to the yard 2"
she asked the child, who stood gazing