The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1869-06-03

"Oh, we'll, it will come in the LORD
good time"
! "You have not been here for
oog, thought Of going to see you."
u had rather bad attack Of diptb
r'a' the first of last month";" she r,
Piled. ''lt brought on dyspepsia, ao
then topped off with quincy, aud
nave been having rare time prumt
Ing over the ills that fish is heir to
der manner was SO very opposite
grumbling that it provoked a smile.
II thought Of you yesterday" sal
Margaret, "when reading namlet's lis
OF grievances, of reasons for shuflin
OF this mortal coil and seeking quiet.
"Hamlet was a coward" replied tn
poor client, "and lived for himself
dad he gone bravely to work to sooth
the sorrows of others bis whole cata
logue Of ills, even without his fear
would not have made him ask leave o
absence an hour before the Master call
ed"
When after a half hour of converse
ton, Mrs. Cranson took leave, Marga
ret drew a sheet Of paper and render
ed her Impressions OF that conversatio,
thus:
Who'd bear fortunes scorn and the laws long della,
Tho feaz1 Of the night and the tells of the dav.
Inc coming old age and the going old friends
1ne eone' Tor whose loss none can make us amends
Tho forgetting Of services rendered in need,
" payment which comes in the contrary decd
That alchemy dark which converts to crime
In you, what in others is virtue sublime
With selfshness seeking its own little ends
In the hand which withhclds and the hand that az.
tends
welcome to scenes to which memory lends
Tho rainbow of hope, which 80 joyously bends
Over childhood and youth, and from which there
depends
Anpromise' Well, would and do and just bark
There Ia not spot this green earth that's dark
VINO makes one must burrow down into the clay
And scoop him cave to shut ort the suns r.v.
MY Light is 60 clear that I'm often afraid
Some other poor worm must be left in the shade.
And thus it would be, but the boundless supply
Il measured alone by its infnity.
Tho light falls serenest in long nights of pain
I'd live every hour Of these over again!
No fancy of youth ever climbed half SO high:
Yet then al my ladders were hung in the sky:
And now, would you know, can tell you just why
Through life have labored, and not for myself
1ve counted as servants this " rid and its pelf.
Each day brought it, labor ana gaveits reward,
And my treasures are laid up above with the Lord
Thieves cannot purloin them, the rust cannot mar
They're safe from the changes and chances of war
And worlds could not buy them if sign the deed.
Here nothing have; there nothing shall need,
No i'll in the future ere costs me fear,
But that of being left as q cumberer here;
Lies this or aught else in the path of my fate,
He will teach me to LABOR or teach me to wait.
SO You might add the whole array
In Hamlet's sentimental Law.
Of ills which this poor lif. down weigh;
Yet in this old world would stay,
As happy as the birds in May,
Until heard the Master saw.
'Thy work is finished! Como awayw
The next week brought that decis-
on which made the contented widow
Independent. and the next year brought
Freedom's first national victory at the
American ballot bcx. Lincoln and
damlin were elected, and Judge Ken
lon was returned. He, his wife and
our children still boarded with Mrs,
derlyn, because she could not keep
louse in Arabia Petrea aud him live
nth half the time 10 Washington.
One afternoon while the Republicans
we're rejoicing over their victory,
arge, plain carriage, drawn by two
tout, sober. looking horses, aud driven
y sedate man passed a group of la.
lies on the steps Of house near the
ity.
"There," said one, "goes that car
iage again. This time the quaker wo-
nan is in with something less than a
lozen children. They say she takes the
'rphans at The Home out riding turn
bout, so that they all get ride once
month. Sometimes an old lady and
'oung man are in it, who appear to be
'lind, aud two or three girls. I won
Ter who they are ?"
"Why," answered one of the group,
it is Margaret Merlyn, that woman
awyer who writes about politics for the
,apers. She used to be a chamber
maid and has made a fortune. She's
N abolitionist, and a woman's rights
nan, and all that sort Of thing; so Of
,ourse she's an old maid"
As they drove around the lake shore,
MIR. Tvinzy sat in the slanting SUM-
light pulling up tufts of grass and
throwing them at the beating waves,
while talking to new friend. Look
lng up as they passed, he nodded to
his companion and said:
ian old fame of mine in the days
when I was sowing wild oats"
He paused, lifted his hat, laid his
hand msditatively on his top-knot, with
bis thumb 10 the quirI, aud sighins,
continued: "Poor little thing! The
.ffair was likely to prove serious to her
yes, serious. She thought good deal
Of me; liked me drst-rate, you know
aud when the connection was broken
off she took it hard. She kept up un.
til after my marriage, aud since that
has turned Lady Bountiful p
He arose, replaced his hat, took the
arm Of his friend, turned his head on
one side aud looked at the clouds in
his bird.like way, beat time gently to
the measure OF the softly splashipy