The Conservative. (M'connelsville, Ohio) 1866-1871, 1870-10-07

From the Springfield Republican.
Had any one asked me if / was acquaint-
ed with Emily, / should have replied,
''Very well, indeed" Emily and l had
taught in the same school for nearly two
years. We had sat at the same table and
occupied the same room. We had inter
changed our thoughts and opinions freely.
We had read, studied and sung together.
We had sometimes dressed alike. Emily
had told of the people whom she had known
and had acquainted her with the few who
had ever lighted or dar kened my pathway.
We were what the girls in our school cali
ed very intimate friends. Yet it came
about one evening that found 1 had not
known Emily at all.
have since sometimes wondered how
many of those people whose paths have at
different times run close by my own, and
whose words and deeds have been inter
linked with mine, l know much about
When / remember that to know what a
person is now, without considering how
circumstances have wrought on his char
acter, or 10 judge one by his external acts,
ignoring the inward moyings, the tempta-
tionsxthe trials, the failures, or successes,
that have given birth or shape to the out
ward act, is to follow superficial observa-
ton rather than acquaintance, then the
people that know seem very few.
But thought that 1 was acquainted with
Emily. understood her temperament and
disposition as it was then, perfectly. /
knew that her home had once been among
the hills of one of our western counties. j
knew well how that home looked, for EN-
iIy had often described it to me. She was
much in the habit of calling my attention
TO little story and halt cottages with plain
yards, and pointing out fheir similarity to
the one which had been her home. She
spoke of il as hers still.
See, that is like our house in the porch
over the front door," or chat grapevine
trellis in the yard is like ours" she would
say.
knew that Emily had never had broth
er or sister, and that her mother had died
three or four years before met her. Stand
ing under the trees in one of those rare
June twilights when the invisible world,
where those wait who have gone before,
seems very near, Emily had talked with
me of her mother, and pictured the peace
full closing of her life for me knew that
hersfather was living, and that he wrote to
her sometimes, but she never mentioned
the contents of his letters. She spent her
vacations in the little room which she and
I shared during term time, or she visited
here and there among friends. Her father
boarded, she said.
1t was one Sabbath evening that learn
ed more; the evening of the Sabbath pre-
ceding the great October freshet. We had
attended two services in church that day
and afterward been reading. As the dark
ness came on we closed the books and sal
thinking. The rain beat heavily and drear-
lily against our windows and ON the plank
sidewalk below. The trefs in the yard
gmaued and creaked, and gave forth ali
those varying ziI0urnful sounds, which tht
east wind has always trick of playing OF
half-decayed old trees. Our room wa
damp and chilly. We had builta fire, hop
ing to make it more cheerful, but the fire
wouldn't burn. We coaxed it with bits o.
paper, kerosene, and matches. 1t weu
out persistently. The stove was q new.
fashioned one, and Emily and are accu
stoned to old-fashioned things. Finally
We gave up the fire and wrapped our shawh
about us
the low stove hearth, and Emily was OF
the school-teaehing dignity, which cling
and be children when we are at home. =
Emily's fayorite seat is on the floor by m,
side, sometimes leaning her head bacl
against my knee.
We had not spoken for some minute
that evening, when 1 became conyineet
that she was softly crying. Tears wer
unusual in our room. put my hand dow
to her, and she grasped It tightly; thel
turned and laid her face IL my lap sob
Ding.
1T seems to me on such nights as thi
that can't bear my trouble and live, Per
sis, she said.
could not ask her what her trouble was
but laid my hand on her forehead ant
stroked back her hair. She understoo'
the motion.
"Hhe wind, the rain, and the dark al
ways bring it all back, and I can't help it,
said she, looking up at the window wher
the wind was driving the rain most fierce
ly. 1T is about my father, Persis, and
can't bear to tell you what he is, becaus
he is my fatheI."
/ shan't write out here all that followed
for the world has heard the story vhic
drunkard's wives and daughters have {
tell until il has grown impatient at the II
hearsal. 1t has all leisure TO listen to fin
spun sentimentality, tears for thevlctlm
of supersensible sorroYs, and edmiratio
for the heroic men and women who sacrih
their happiness to hair-splitting theories
regard to right and wrong; but the trials
drunkard's family have become an oil
and hresome story; moreover, SAVIOR
grossness very unwelcome to q person OF n
fined sensibilities cliDgs to them. So, O
said before, / will not repeat all thos
words which seemed to me SO full of ps
thos.
Emily told me how happy her childhoo
was, how full of love and hope; and the
how the blight came, first upon her mott
er's life and then upon her own. Thi
mother adored her husband, and raise
him to an eminence In her thoughts ju
below her Makers, and when he fell 81
stood face TO face with the ruins and coul
neither doubt nor deny longer, all h'
strength went out other. She became or
of those care-vorn, broken-hearted VI
men, whom, since the curse of intempe
ance doubled itself in our land, we ms
meet at every street corner, and who hn
little sympathy or consolation, since the
sorrow is such q common sorrow.
0My father was a man of natural rein
ment of feeling" said Emily at one tim
ssbut he sometimes treated this angel W
man, whose life hsd became but sscrltiI
willingly offered to him, with the crosse
cruelty. Then came the reaction, Wht
his melancholy frightened US. Those we
the days in which the blood would lea
my mothers face ct the swapping OF q
FIRE, or the cracking of q dry twig IN u
yard, and she would say, THAT noise "
not q pistol report, was it, Emily?"
Those were the evenings in which 81
never retired nntil after my father W
asleep, when she carried her lamp into Il
bedroom softly, and carefully slipped
hand round under my fathers pillow. g
allowed one to sit up with her while q
served, and at these times / used to sta
at the bedroom door and watch her vi
bated breath. / should never have be
surprised to see the steel Of knife hs