The Van Buren press., 1872-02-13
MISCELLANY.
A Pleasant Story.


1t was a cottage Don't tell me that |
don't know Haven't | been there to
gather roses and feast on Strawberries Z
No it wasn't cottage oraee--there was
nothing Frenchilied about it. 1t was
purely American, and harmonizcd sweet
ly with the deIghtful scenery. No. it
hadn't fat roof, nor a pOrtlco; moth
ing at all Of the kind. But then it had
rose vines running all over the windows,
and whole colonies Of wrens that bu,!.
their nests and sang beneath its caves
70 the right was field Of clover, red
with blossoms; on the left was an or
chard whence every vs.nd scattered 4
snowy shower Of bloom; in the front
was green lawn, shaded with some mas
sive walnut trees; and to the rear open
ed a long grass land through which the
cows walked every morning to thei: pas
ture beyond, and returned by the same
way at night
knew well enough to whom this cot
tage belonged. No, it wasn't TO school
teacher, nor preacher, nor an author
no such thing! il was built by the hand
Of him who owned it, and lived in it, and
had always anmired his excellent taste
in blending the useful to the beautiful,
though had never seen him, my visits
having always been made to his wife, and
during his absence had heard Of him,
though; heard enough to make me in
tensely curious to see him; for not a fe
male tongue in the neighborhood approv-
ed Of his wife's choice.
"What is the matter with him y !
asked sis he imnoral?'
Not that know of. " was the rejon.
der But to tell the truth, Dolly, he's
insufferably ugly-his face is all SCARED
and cicatrized, | should think by fire,
and you know it always makes me ner-
vous to look at anything Of that kind. "
"Poor man perhaps he got burned
in rescung some child or feeble wo.
man from the flames 2" | said.
Don't hnow; never heard; never
made inquiries; you know they only
came to live in the neighberhood last
summer, and ! never dare ask her what
disfgured him, but | wish you would
oh, | should like to know?'
~ am considerably acquainted with
Mrs. Winslow," replied; Il thought
of calling on her this morning; perhaps
she will tell me without my asking.
"Do! that's dear good Dolly ~
And did.
The whole atmosphere seemed redo
cnt with music and fragrance;
couldn't tell why all the birds had taken
it into their heads to sing, warble and
build their nests there; and | didn't
know why it was that the mosses, but
tcrcups, violets and daisies, should pre-
fer that place to any other; but they
seemed to, judging from the profusion
in which they grew.
The whole prospect was delightfully."-
rural and picturesque, and over all lin
gered an influence of dreamy quietude
and repose.
A narrow footpath, crooked as foot
paths always are, wound along through
the lawn, beneath the shadows of giant
walnut, aud by this approached, enter
ed the little gate and ascauded The gray
elcd walk, bordered by beds Of flowers,
to the door. 1t was open, and went in.
Alonc--a serene peaceful hush rest
cd within. The balmy wind nestled in
the wreaths of snowy drapery hanging
at the window, where great white and
red roses bowed their graceful heads,
and the warm, rich sunlight came in, and
lay in bright bars of radiance upon the
floor
Not quite alone cither--a cradle was
there; and it required no conjuring TO
tell that the cradle had an inmatc--a self
digniiied, thoughtful, inperturhable little
baby WHOSE quiet calmness | could not
quite understand. 1t was wide awake,
and its great blne eyes were staring with
infant persistence at something. ]
couldn't tell what; then they turned up.
on me, aud returned tho gaze. But it
made no difference; the baby had not II
foul or evil thought to hide; it was not
conscious Of sin ia word or deed
hence there came no blush TO that round
cd check ~ falling to that calm, quiet