The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1850-1873, 1871-11-03

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of childish laughter called forth by
some mirth-exeiting sketch, or, more
likely, caricature, for children are
naturally satirists. One morning
; missed the usual honest, jolly laugh.
ter, and my ear was offended by an
uncouth sort of gibbering and gig.
Cling, which was as offensive as il
was unaccountable. l rose to re-
prove my pets for indulging in such
folly, when they suddenly entered
my room, looking startled and
troubled.
Mamma" said Nellie, my baby
artist, "whlt is that funny noise
We heard it before, and j don't like
it, mamma, for just now 1t was close
to our door.
This piece of strange intelligence
was confirmed by the elder girls,
and as had never known them in
their lives to deviate from the truth,
| / confess | was quito as puzzled as
was the Children themselves. They
bad fiever before exp ssssli a fear OF
tanything. Having them always un-
der my own supervision, they had
escaped that dangerous association
with servants which so often forms,
, vi rather ieIorIns the characters OF
children. The ignorant delight in
the marvellous, and a story loses
nothing by repetition. | have al
ways observed the more ignorant
the relator, the larger the spectre and
the louder the supernatural footballs
always the accompanying horrors
of servants tradition.
There is no born fear in children.
What they have never heard OF, they
certainly can never fear. | laughed
at the little ones, aud then laughed
,cih them, at their underlined suspi-
cion of something startling and un-
usual. But when after while | re-
tlected | began to think there was
something wrong-something !
could not fathom-and | made up
my mind that, on recurrence of the
mornings events, | would leave the
house at once. felt convinced that
some one was practicing on our ere
dulity, and was determined that the
chirdren should be neither annoyed
nor terrified. Then The question
presented itself, Who is the mischie-
vous elf playing of this farce, and
what the motive? Was there no one
save ourselves under the root, but
the Doctor, his wife and daughter,
and a servant-maid, a stout, steady
Scotch woman, who seemed TO live
amOst entirely in the little wing OF
the house, and who, though evident
ly a sort of servant housekeeper,
looked to staid and sensible to in
dulge in any prank OF this sort. Be
sides, she seemed too fond Of chill
dren, and when. on one or two oc-
casions, she had encountered my
"wee bairns," as she called them, her
manner was exceedingly kind and
tender. | had always entertained
the utmost contempt for practical
joking, and to play upon the fears of
any one, especially children, was a
crime in my eyes never to be forgiv-
en-. Now, then, what to do for |
felt that something must be done,
and that Immediately. My suspi-
cions leaned towards the daughter;
and as suspicion is always very mar
row and illiberal, | attributed her
reserve and melancholy manner 20
this extraordinary and untecling
phase of monomania into which her
mind had drifted. My resolve was
formed. / sent the children for
ramhlc, knowing there is no nerve
tonic like fresh air and sunny skies
and prepared myself to sec Mrs.
Marston at once. While making
some little addition 10 my morning
toilet, again heard the same mean
ingless laughter. This reused me,
and turned to leave the room pre-
cipitately, when sight met my eyes
which | shall never forget. Stand
ing in the doorway were two chill
dren, | should Judge from ten to
twelve years of age. The girl was
entirely without clothing, but her
beautiful dark hair, reaching nearly
to her knees, covered her like veil.
The boy had some light garment on
i could scarcely tell what, for it
was in tatters. As they stood, their
arms cncircling one another,
thought never oehcld anything so
exquisite. AS soon as | recovered
myself sufficiently to speak, / ex-
claimed, "Who arc you?" In mo
mcnt my lovely vision was dispell-
ed. a burst of idiotic laughter was
my only answer. In a moment
perceived the cause of the tranSfOr-
nation in the faces which an instant
before had seemed almost supGrhu-
man i'll their beauty. They were
toothless! l made a step or two
towards them, when, with another
peal of horrid mirth, they fled. |
could not follow. | was transfiXed
to the spot. One mystery, however,
was solved. These poor, toothless
idiots were inmates of the house,
and, until this moment, unknown to
me. sat down for awhile, to re-
fleet how | could break to that poor
mother my knowledge of the secret
she had so striven to guard from me
how to tell her that | had seen hen
poor, bcnightcd offspring, whom /
knew, now, were the cause of her re-
serve and sadness, thought of my
own darlings, so precious to me, in
glowing health and unusually devcl-
oped intellect, and | felt that in graf
itude to God and in humanity to a
suffering sister, must in the fullness
of my own treasures, deal gently |
with this poor bankrupt in ali that |
makes mothers hope and happiness !
The return of the children put an
end to my reverie, for my mind had |
wandered from my first feeling,
which was anger, to the wre5chcd |
woman who was doomed to witness, |
every day and hour, the humiliating
spectacle, slight glimpse of which |
had inspired me with SO much hor-
ror. The more j thought of il, the
more | shrank from the task / had
undertaken. / thought, tomorrow |
will do; | shall then be more COM
posed. 1t was a relief to hear the
young voices of the children as they
the house. They did not
return from their walk as cheerful
as was their custom. They had evil
IDENTIFY been talking the matter of the
over among themselves, for
as soon as their hats were thrown off.
Julia, the eldest of my girls, took a
chair by my side, and, after looking
up gravely at me for moment, said
"Mamma, / think we have found
out who it is that laughed so strange
ly, though she never did it before.
"Shci Who?" | exclaimed, my
mind instantly reyerting to the
daughter of the house.
"Why, we all think it must be the
old lady our Nell calls grandma.
"Old lady! What old lady?
There is no lady in this house older
than Mrs. Marston. "
cob! yes there isl" replied my lit