The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1869-03-13

I
out early and come in late, and now she
could sit within the whole day long if
/ it pleased her. Instead of the three
plants in fower-pots, which the first
frost always killed, Miss Jennings had
her own garden. And to make her
happiness complete, Miss Jennings
could now indulge in what had been
the day-dream of her latter years,-a
painted glass window 1t is all very
well to, deride such simple longings,
but you see they often come when
others depart. Miss Jennings had had
brighter dreams once,-drcams of hus-
band, home, and children, and when
these withered away before the chill
breath of old Father Time, she took
refuge in harmless fancies. Of these
the painted glass window was the last,
and Miss Jennings was a proud and
happy woman when it was put up in
the landing, and gold and ruby and
sapphire hues fell on her staircase car
pet. Il shall always think of my poor
uncle when I look at that window
thought Miss Jennings in the warmth
of her gratitude to the dead. And so
she did think of the old gentleman,
faithfully if not tenderly, and thus the
little landing window got to be a sort
of memorial window, and perhaps
it was as true and as religious in its
way as many of its more ambitious
brethren, displaying their dim gor-
geousness in solemn cathedrals.
This pleasant, selfish little life had
lasted through the summertime, and
winter was beginning with a new series
of delights, under the shape of cosy
evenings by the Preside, bright lamp
on the table, and three-volume novel
in the fat white hands of plump Miss
Jennings, who leaned back in the most
comfortable of arm-chairs to read it,
when next-door neighbors stepped in
and blotted out the fair picture. On
dreary, snowy evening, when the
wind, blowing so gustily without, made
the comfort within doubly pleasant,
Miss Jennings, who was gently nod
ding over love scene, was reused by
the limitations conveyed by her little
maid, that Mr.. Brown, the poor gentle
man next door, whose wife was so i'll,
asked to speak to her. Mr. Browns
errand was sad one; his dying wife
wanted to see Miss Jennings, whom
she had never spoken to, and for whom
she had conceived sick woman s fancy.
Such wishes are not to be resisted
Miss Jennings at once put by her
novel, rose and followed Mr.. Brown to
the next house She never forgot the
scene that awaited her there's dis
ordered household, seven woe-begone
children, most melancholy looking
husband, and dying woman, whose
eyes burned like fire in her wasted face.
At once she seized Miss Jennings's hand,
and held it fast
Il knew you would come" she
whispered,-"I knew you would. l
am going to die You know, we are
strangers here; my poor husband is a
clerk at the bank, you know, and my
poor children are all going to ruin. l
know YOU will take care of tlem when
l am gone; you are good know
you will"
my goodness !" cried Miss Jen-
nings, looking around her in dismay.-
But the sick lady did not mind her
She kept on saying, II know you WILL y
as if it were the burden of song; and
still uttering those words, she died as
ten struck that night. The fire was
not out when Miss Jennings came
home; the lamp still burned brightly
the open novel still lay on the table
the chair seemed to await it's mistress,
but Miss Jennings sighed drearily as
she sank into it. Seven children how.
ever would that poor nervous Mr..
Brown, who was out ali day, and did
not know a soul in the place, how
would he manage? Miss Jennings had
not the least intention of accepting the
dead lady's legacy, but still how would
he manage, you know? He managed
tolerably well, thaks to Miss Jennings
You see there was more love in her
heart than she knew of, more tender.
ness than the painted-glass window
could absorb. At first she only went
in to direct Mr.. Browns one servant,
"untill he should get some one;" but
that some one never coming, for many
excellent reasons, Miss Jennings gave
up that illusion, and said to herself that
she must "give look to poor Mr.
Browns children every now and then >
this, too, was another illusion Miss
Jennings found that children will not
be looked at now and then, but require
constant gazing. And so she looked at
them so assiduously, that the circula.
ting library Indignantly sent in for the
second volume, and would rather de.
cline Miss Jennings's subscription than
have books kept SO long, if you please.
Indeed, there was Miss Jennings's an
cry rejoinder they were welcome to
the second volume, stupid trash she
remembered quite well she was falling
asleep over it when poor Mr.. Brown
came in, and she had something else to
do now,-thank Heaven! So she had
good Miss Jennings she had seven
children to mind and house to take care
Of Mr. Brown, a poor nervous man.
in state of chronic depression, thanked
her much, and was apt to become over
powered with gratitude at times, but
he did nothing to relieve her burden
"Poor fellow!" thought Miss Jennings,
as she now and then gave him visit
full look, "he is as helpless as baby,
you know. And so he was, so much
so that, spite Miss jennings vigilance,
many matters would, and did, 60 wrong.
The evils at length became so serious
and so serious and so crying, that Miss
Jennings ventured on remonstrance -
Mr. Brown groaned and knocked his
head distractedly against the parlor
mantel-piece, but said it could not be
helped. They must all go to ruin, he
and the children; it was very sad, but
it must be so. my goodness ex-
claimed Miss Jennings, he was not to
say that! But Mr.. Brown would say
that Miss Jennings was very kind, but
of course she could not be in two places
at once,-in her own house and his his
door u,;fo h Il told hin, fo n, rrv oroin