Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1870-04-07

biood-dyed foxgloye glowed in the G.,
contrast 70 briar-rose, hollyoak, and -
quibannas scented clusters az
But there wins stranger in our mid.
He came, none knew whence. M.
added to the interest awakend by n |
isolation. 1t was said that the msidens.,
our village lent ready ear TO bis fat.
ing speech, and these were, by turrs Il
object of mis- devotion. 4 spirit Of riv,'-
grew up among them, and this sdventu,s
was indisputably the cause. No one cou.
| tell why There were Handsome a..
youger men among them, but wonsr
nature is something beyond the ken Of J,
old pilgrim like me, and have never bea,
able to determine wherefore this strangs
SO much attracted them.
Let me hasten to the close of my tsl.
for time wears apace, and dare not dv.
on every incident transpiring during tl
period. Four children had successiyal, |
bloomed and died beneath my roof trs.
Their sad-eyed mother had swept ava,
her youth in sorrow for them-her youtt
not her beauty, for that was somethir,
which time could not touch, and sui
looked in mild illumined eye, the queen,
form and eloquently worded speech. VI,
were lonely with that desolation in lh
amid garden scenes, when no youn,
flower peeps up amid withered grass, an
butterflies sport unperceived amid lesass
shrubbery.
had an only brother; our paths !,
life had been widely sundered. He tG
among men supreme in the might Of b
natural gifts and soaring ambition. BIZ
he died young-having married early /
life, following his own instincts, the ",
man of his choice, regardless OF conss
duences. She was early widowed, al.
her heart broke over the tomb of him 81;
loved. One grave received them-Lions
and Miranda. Their child was confdej
to me. All, fair, sweet Julie how thou
didgt smile on our solitude, and how
dearly thou vast loved Child Of nv
adoption, thy early blight brought desc
lation to my heart more dreary and Joy
less than former losses had ever dOls
Thou vert sole rose in the garden OF liz
and with thy whitening died out the las
hope of an old mans love. She was beau.
tiful-this bright Julie-a parentless
flower, and loved her the more because
she seemed redeeming link between Ii
and my dead brothers opposing sent
ments and career. But Julie was this
mysterious strangers victim. To her be
directed all the power of fascination
rarely resisted.
Nv avocations took me often from
home. 1t was only by snatches that
saw this ripened flower of lOveliness
Rumors were afloat that the stranger had
won our jules love, and one bright Nay
morning she was found no more in on
midst. Then is was that, reused by
love paternal in its watchful solitude,
sought her far and near. No tidings re.
warded my search and sat down in nv
rified home with no consolation save thgt
which beamed from the meek eyes OF nv
wife. There, indeed, l found, as I had
ever done, the only balm for my wounded
spirit. Yet there was mighty desola.
ton in our midst, understood only BY
those who, having few to love. lavish the
hearts tenderness in boundless measure
upon them.
Summer had lapsed into autumn
Again strong-voiced winds sang along
leafess groves, and / felt that the hour 4
my trial was approaching. The day hsdI
been misty, and loud howled Novembsrs
blast over dun fields and lesfess groves.
We were seated in our parlor, a bright
fire blazing on the hearth, and ever IS
tinkling rain drops battered on the win
dow-glasses, we drew nearer our comfor'
table ingleside," and thought compas'
sionately of wayfarers.
There was a quick, convulsive pull al
the bell. Another moment and our lost
Julie stood before us, but so altered by
aT Sr4
vened since we lost herr, so altered was
she, say, that nothing but the keen eyes
of love could identify her.
"Ah, dear child, whence come you
and why are your great soul revealing
eyes heavy with uushed tezrs."
Talk not to me-" said she wildly, an3
color came to her pale cheek like g.
tumnal red in stormy sky. Talk 1
to me after the fashion of better dayit
dear uncle; see my heart is withered. he
whom l loved, oh, so passionately that
even now my soul clings TO his memory,
he is dead to me-"
The conclusion of this sentence was n.
tured so piteous that a heart of stesl
might have melted at its soul-harrowing
sound.
"Yes, dead! plunged in an abyss q
mystery and crime from which there L
no redemption. Ask me no questions
enough, my idol was made of clay. Il
has been shattered at my feet have
come home to die"
Her words were prophetic. In one
short month we laid her away in the
sunny country churchyard, where her
parents slept.
1t was a chill November afternoon
when, in silence and sorrow, our Julis
covered from light and life, was consigned
10 repose in peace till awakened humanity
is summoned to the last assize. Years af-
terward. discovered the fact that he who
crept like serpent into our paradise, and
blighted the young life of our Julia, wa:
one whom have named-my evil genius,
the dark-browed host of the inn.