The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-12-22

sunneS apx vsih depestid had ythe
flowers become, that they fairly fhn Wild
and defied all boundaries; purple pansies
and golden nasturtians escaped by the
underground. messages they, had sfonpd
and LOOKED sSiSk iisd 81. II 4 on st,deIr & @eek
sisters, who tamely submitted to be
hemmed in by borders of green box; and
trailing convolvulus ran perfectly law
less, Haunting their scentless blossoms
be fore yod in the most M looked.fo
places; paaping through the gasden, pals
ings, clasping with their clinging tendrils
the stone door-steps, running races with
the jasmine, whioh quietly plodded on
toward the top of the porch-in fact,
setting all law and order at defiance in
the most rebellious manner, but also in
way that would have done Johns heart
good to see. But, alas! John had been
gone-these many days on q voyage to the
China Sea, bearing with him, to keep his
heart warm, the memory of a sunny face,
which smiled goodbye with fearful eyes,
one bright summer morning, standing at
the garden gate. Meanwhile, inside the
cottage all went on with the order and
neatness and regularity which rivaled
that OF the clock on tho mantel, which
seemed to take a delight in such bus
Ting. cheerful little mistress. Little
Hans. the poor, half-starved, forlorn
German boy, whom Robin had taken to
milk the COW and ahoo tho hnower.garden,
and run of errands to the village, grew
bright and cheerful under the influence
of her smile; while his face, grown wider
and fuller every day, till it resembled no.
thing 80 much as one of his own care
" daI l. A..
her marvellous skill in cooking. Mother
Danforth-a good sort of woman in q
melancholy way, who was much given to
frequent sighings and complainings,
whose most cheerful. recreation was a
funeral now and then, and to walk up to
Eagle Crag to inspect, after the time
honored fashion of mother-in laws, the
doings of its little mistress was fain to
confess, that even to her critical eye, the
household manage ment was perfect.
cher cookery is faultless, aud every
thing is scrupulously neat" she acknow-
ledged to her next-door neighbor, Mrs.
Gray. "But she doesn't seem to pine
after John bit. But then, what else
could one expect from such child; Ont
of sight. out of mindI' I suppose il
John is pleased, I ought to be. But I'm
sure 1t was never my way when Captain
Danforth was on q voyage. Many's the
night have cried all night, and the
house was more like funeral than any
thing else, all the time he was gone"
Mrs. Gray, wise woman that she was,
carefully abstained from limiting that
this might be the reason of Johns pre-
ference to merry, cheerful Robin, whose
unfailing good spirits were to him con-
stant source of wonder and delight.
II thought she always seemed very
fond of john" she contented herself
with saying, as Mrs. Danforth rose to
take her leave.
''SeemedP' echoed widow Danforth,
with her deepest sigh; ''let me tell you,
Mrs. Gray, when you have lived in this
wicked world as long as I have, you will
find that things are not by any means all
they SEEM"
And with this unintentional parody of
the sublime song Of the poet, Mrs. Dan
forth went her lugubrious way home
ward. So the summers came and went
in fragrance and song to the little cottage
on the Crag; and the white ships sailed
birds to the ''haven under the hill" and
the Ocean Bird, commanded by Can't.
John Danforth, now touching at this
prosperous gales, sometimes buffetipg
adverse winds, set sail for home. And
in the heart of the brave man who some
times in shine, sometimes in storm, al
ways cheerfully and hopefully paced her
deck, there dwelt picture of face
which, whether bright or sad with April
tears, had always been eloquent with love
for him, and which was fairer and dearer
to him than all the world beside. Dream
on, honest Capt, Danforth. For you the
Joy and the brightness of love are over;
for you storm is gathering which will
scatter your love-dream as easily as the
wind, which sweeps over the deck of the
Ocean Bird, scatters the foam that crests
the wave whereon she rides. The Dutch
clock ticks merrily away, surveying the
neatness and cosiness of the little room
with face shining appreciation. The
fire burns cheerily in the fireplace, the
canary dozes sleepily on his perch, and
the old cat purrs loudly in the corner.
Meanwhile, the little mistress, daintily
nttired in n merino dress, with lace at
the throat and wrists, sits before the
sparkling fire and gazes drenmily into it.
Her work lies illv upOD her Ian. tbo Loll