The Ebensburg Alleghanian. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1865-1871, 1869-05-06

an artists enthusiasm, her grand old ular-
! bles and inspired paintings, over which
| the dust and decay Of ages rest, Ike the
grey shroud on the bosom Of the dead
! In eloquent language he described the won
dcrs Of disentomed Pompei. He pictured
| temples, theatres and dwellings, where
lived and and loved the people Of two
thousand years ago. He told her, in glow
ing language, of the graceful minarets,
feathery palms and grand and solemn nsr-
a1nide, aud while listening, sl.o seemed TO
scale with him the dangerous passes OF
the Alps, andtt5od in breathloss we look
ing up the dizzy heights crowned with
ice and snow And in imagination she
wondered down the golden Nile, and ad-
mired the rich beauty OF It's fertile val
| leys, rendered gloriously beautiful by its
frequent inundations. His voice took q
deeper and sweeter tone when he des-
cribed the ruined cities Of the far East,
the frettsd arches and vast cathedral aisles
of the Old World, made grand by the
work Of art. and rainbow painted windows,
whose artists, dying, left immortal names
behind them, way marks for other gifted
spirits, who are destined to follow them
down the broad aisle OF coming ages.
She drank in the tones Of his softly
modulated voice. making no note al time.
When supper was announced he led her
to the table. During the repast she
watched him narrowly, and when wine
was served she beclme pale with excite
ment She offered him a glass with
smile: he gave her a searching look and
refused it, calling for water in its stead.
a. r,,,+ nEod.r, ,-,,, 7
DO not drink 1t but with this glass of
water, Natures purest beverage, drink
to you. May love and happiness be your
portion in life"
Thank you" 1t was all she said, but
a bright smile rewarded him better than
words Mira had indeed met her affinity
Love budded in their hearts that night,
and ere the year had passed it biossJmed
into hymenial wreath.
1t was moonlight upon the Hudson.
The home to which Warren Dagon took
his young bride was beautiful with vines
and summer blossoms. He and Mira
were walking arm i'll arm Oh the ea-si u
,,pz, conv..,--.-r, = H. I.~ ,iTC&Illn5
bright dreams Of the future-long years
to come, crowned with earthly happiness
/ i never could comprehend the reason
that your friends called yoa marble heart
3D. You were never cold to me, darling"
, sad he, drawing herdown to i scat by his
side
1t is a sad story, dear husband let
US sit here in the moonlight, and l will
tell you OF my fair young Sister who died
three years ago. / shall never again meet
a spirit like hers, SO proud, SO pure and
/ free. Elsie was but seventeen whed she
| gave her heart to Atwell Chandler He
! loved tie wine cup better He was no
/ ordinary man; many and rich were :"
gifts bestowed upon him By nature Jja
was dark haired man, with eyes o.. rare
depth and feeling. He was very hand
+ some: in manner he was gentieGIaaly and
/ pleasing. We al loved him father loved
/ him rs son, and so gave him Eis:e.
! They were married and went to dwell IN
his beautiful home in the South, and f3r
few years they were happy.
Then Atw-il began t. neglect his i-s.-
ness ior a downward pa;h, which eld5l
in the dlunkard's grave. Five years from
her bridal Elsie came home brol,en-heart-
cd. Atwell died by his own hand, for
they found him in the summer-ho house
with his brains blown out by pistol shot !;
and my dear beautiful sister came to her
girlhoot,'s home broken hearted came
home TO die.
III was just such night like this, a
beautiful uIght IN midsummer, when hlsie
ed. She lay upon her pillow looking SO
white and fair. She was perfectly calm
10 fear Of death thrilled hcg pure spirit /;
fgr face would have charmed IA pi1;fze=ll,
was 50 spiritual in its childiiko beauty.
It tIc angels Oh the other shore are flirer
than Este in her dying hour, then Indeed
viii heaven be glorious in lis brig shtneas
Il knew that she was dying, for | saw
the hue Of death steal over her features
Her brishtcyes we've growing dim to Garth
ly sight, Yet they had a s:1angc inward
light, as though her spirit had peneira'ed
tie gloom OF the immortal day, which
shines with c;erUai summers in the city
OF God AS | stood by her bedside moist
eniug her lips with water, acd wipiLg the
cold dews Of death from her forehead, her
lCas silken eye-lasheo were lifted tor a
numeut aua hXlag her eyes upon me with
an expi icssou OF carnestuess and tender
ness, she saiJ:
"Nira, sister, this is death. Ny weary
feet are even now treading the brink OF the
river that rolls between the other world
and this l do not fear to die; It's JOY un-
u,terable to know that | am almost home.
Poor Atwell | shall soon meet him again.
The morning of his life was very fair, CIV
ing promise of long and useful day /; but
his sun went down in darkness before 1t
had reached the meridian, and his own
hand hastened its untimely setting. l
trust l may find him in the land to which