Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1869-07-14
The Chase after the Butterfly,

The Chase after the Butterfly.
By FRANCES A. SHAW.
Already the watchman from the tower had
cried the hour of midnight. Silence reigned
over the little town, and the lights were out
in all the houses save one, humble cottage,
where through the heavy foliage of grape vine
before the window, came the pale glimmer of
lamp. Here dwelt poor sick widow, with
her daughter Maria, girl Of sixteen years,
lovely in mind and heart.
After a long silence, the mother opening
her eyes and gazing anxiously upon her only
child, said feeby " Go to rest, dearest :"
but Maria still worked on, and tried to per-
suade her mother that she was not weary.
viii you not lie down a little while ?"
urged her mother. This is the third night
you have been deprived Of rest for my sake.
Go to bed now, my daughter Perhaps God
will send me, too little slumber."
Then Maria rose silently from her work,
threw her arms around her mothers neck
and hiding that bright head on that gentle
breast, she said lovingly;
"Oh if | could only give you a little rest,
sweet mother, how willingly would | keep
awake until the birds sing to welcome the
dawn !"
"My darling" replied the mother while
she caressingly stroked back the fair curls
from her daughters forehead, al shall be
greatly troubled if you sit up any longer.
! Lie down and sleep, dearest, under the pro-
lection of our Heavenly Father Trust in
I r I. IL
Then Maria rose, kissed the white lips of
her sick mother, and was about to lie down
to rest, when a light knock was heard at the
cottage door. Greatly astonished, she walked
to the window, and timidly asked,
"Who is there?"
| 81 have lost my way, and cannot find my
mother" returned sweet childish voice"
"Come in, poor child" said Maria "Ah,
what fearful night this is for little one
like you to be wandering about alone There
is not a star in the sky" So saying, she led
the child into the only room the house con-
tanned.
He was fair, beautiful boy, with large
blue eyes, and blond hair, soft as silk, which
fell in long curls over his shoulders. His
dress was rich and tasteful, giving evidence
VI WEALTH. dlu VI AilAA lhNAiiE NdAI MlllNu Abhi
mothers are wont to bestow upon their dar-
lings. 1t was JOY to look at him. and as Ma
ria laid her hand upon his shoulder, and full
of sympathy, gazed into his bright eyes, she
asked:
"What is your name, dear child ?"
"Gustave,' answered the boy, bursting
into tears.
"Don't cry, little boy" said Maria. "You
shall stay with us tonight, aud tomorrow
you can find your mother
"Ah, my mother my sweet, darling
mother !" sobbed the boy. But Maria took
him in her arms, wiped the tears from his
checks, and sought to comfort him.
"When did you leave your mother2" she
asked. Then little Gustave told his story.
1--WE came from my grandiather's," he
said +" He lives very far from here in a
great, beautiful house. We were going to
our own home, which is ever so many miles.
At noon to-day, when we were passing thick
wood, the road became very rough, and one
of our carriage wheels got broken. Mother
said it would take the driver and our servant,
| Henry, a long time to mend it. At last,
when had got very tired waiting, a beautiful
butterfly alighted near me. tried to catch
| it, but it flew away into the thick forest, aud
ran after it. Mother was giving orders to
the servant about fixing the wheel, and didn't
see me. | chased the butterfly until was out
of breath. Pretty soou, it went far, far away
out of my sight, and thought | would 90
back to my mother. But had lost my way.
| cried and shouted but no one answered.
wandered around the wood until dark, then |
. ..t. H. rla In,,s
barked and | was afraid. At last, got to
this village All the houses were dark but
yours saw the light in your window, and
came and knocked at your door. Let me
stay here tonight, for it is very dark, and |
~-,,fdjfed,,loGen,@o yltutbersS
tonight" said Maria You must be hum
gry. Let me bring you something to eat"
Then, the young girl FASTENED out, and
brought the little wanderer the remnant of
her scanty supper, which she had put away
for breakfast. The boy, who tasted since
morning, ate with great relish. Then she
laid the tired child upon her own bed, where
he soon feel asleep. She herself lay down
upon the hard floor, having first prayed the
dear God for her sick mother. Soothed and
strengthened by the childish confidence in
her Heavenly Father, the good girl sank into
gentle, refreshing slumber.
Slowly the dark night gave place to the
clear dawn. The clouds dispersed, the twi-
light shadows fed, and the rising sun lit up
the eastern sky with purple and gold All
nature awoke to fresh, new life and the
birds sang to greet the newborn day. But
moor Maria had a sad awakening from her
sweet morning dreams. She rose with the