Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1870-10-25

.OuC vi bLOlI 1OAlOH Wv vi AAO
father" she said after a pause, "and
is a wanderer | know not where
The other-my noble, brave boy Ben
ny-went into the army, and the last
| heard Of him was that he died at
Andersonville. Oh! that broke my
heart The poor boy went into the
army to help me as well as to help
the country; for work fell slack, and
before that we were getting along so
nicely. Sometimes lie awake nights
thinking of him, till | am most crazy.
Oh! I would have gone in the midst
Of danger only to see him before he
died; but the good Lord of heaven
only knew whether he starved to
death or went mad; they tell such
horrible stories you know, Then
there's Anne-she left M because |
would not let her have anything to do
with wild young man who wanted
to keep her company. One day we
had high words, and she said things
no child should say to mother. |
told her to leave my house. Heaven
knows they were thoughtless words
but she went The next day she was
not to be found, nor haveI heard from
her from that day to this. All! that
was year Of suffering! l travelled af-
ter her-I advertised-I wore myself
sick-buC she was gone !lostperhaps,
in more terrible ways than that one
of running away from home.
There you have all my hbtory-a
poor, heart, broken woman's history
but you can't know, only from the
words l speak-you never could
know-what awful anguish l have
suffered and that has made my hair
turn gray before | am an ola woman.
Would you believe that | am only
forty-one? and every year Of that life
has known something Of the bittercst
anguish. Do you wonder that | say
and icel that l have been deceived
from my youth up? that somtimes I
have no faith in God?"
But never, never lose faith in Him,
my friend" said the visitor il fearful
earnest. Remember what he has of
thine in keeping, and can thee not
trust One who has taken to His own
heaven the good and pure chid?"
you have given me comfort, mur-
INJURED the pale 8eamstress. Others
have been so cold and me-cenary,
seeming to look on me as if ! were a
machine, little dreaming thatI have
known as well as themselves what it
was to have some luxurieS at ny com
mand, an elegant home, anda kind
father. But | know it is wong to
mourn so; something tells Inc that l
should be less rebellious. and so hap
pier. You see, however, that one
/ trouble comes crowding on another.
Now in what way shall bring ny
poor child home; and bow support
her and the children wher they come ?
Trust in God" WHISPERED the 9th
er, with shining eyes in which tears
glistened.
There was thoughtful pause, then
feryent answer.
n will try; | promia you will
try"
Two days after that I letter came
to the widow enclosing Sufficient mon
ey to pay for the removal of her
/ daughter and the children.
On the afternoon an exprcssman
drove up to the door, inquired for the
widow Clarke. and lifed from the
wagon a large parcel, which he placed
in the small, neat room The widow
declared that there was some mistake.
''Thcre's the name said the man
bluntly, "and all charges paid" and
off he went.
A neighbor helped lRr unpack the
box, and there under alIthe wrappings
stood a beautiful sewilg machine. 4
card lay on the shining plate, and tht
widow, STOPPING, read with tear-dim
med eyes;
Trust in the Lord and do good
So shalt thou dwell in the land, an(
verify thou shalt be fed"
at is the first time | ever trusted
Him." she sobbed; my heart ha
| been full of reyengeful thoughts ant
| accusations. Oil from hencetortl
Will | not trust that Power | have s,
misjudged"
A plain, neat house was that il
which Sarah Winchester lived.
was true as the poor sewing woman
had said, friend Sarah had neve
known want, and in her life there ha
been few severe trials. She alway
seemed placidly content, and thos
who knew her best were we'll awar
that most of her small income wa
spent in charity. She was alone
she had neither husband nor child
but she was never unhappy, and ne,
er idle.
"There's a splendid carriage dri
up, Hiss Sarah, and the lady's in th
parlor, this minute asking to see yol
; It's a splendid carriage Miss Sarah.
"The carriage seems to have in
! pressed your Imagination, said Sara
Winchester, smiling at the girls wild
bright eyes; "did you never see
splendid carriage before ?"
"Never none so nice as this, Mi
Sarab,' replied the girl, as frien
Sarah united her black silk apro
, preparatory to going into the parlo
AS she went down stairs she trie
) to conjecture who it was that bad ca
I led upon her in such style, for she ha
few acquaintances of that sort.
i The parlor was darkened a littl
: but she saw the outlines of a woma
= fashiona0ly attired-a young woms
who arose from her seat as frier
Sarah came forward.
"You will excuse me, | know 81
said, in a quiet, low voice, "callil
upon you SO uncerimoniously, but
}. was certain you would not know Il
v name if sent a card, as | am stra
g ger here. Yesterday | came to tt
e city from New York, and l am scare
d ing for my mother. From what
It have learned, l think you can he
r me find her,"
+ ''Thy mother, friendl" said plac
u Friend Sarah, quite disturbed.
( eyes, a Mrs. Mary Clarke;
h don't think sne has lived here ma