The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1872-10-11
Miscellaneous.
THE RECTOR OF RIVINGTOY.
BY ESSIE B. CHEESDORO.

The rector of Rivington sat in his
study. He was vencrable-looking
man, on whose pale face some deep sor-
row had left its trace. AS he sat lean
ing thoughtfully back in his chair, his
dark eyes fixed on the glowing Goals in
the CRATE, his countenance wore troub-
led, anxious expression.
lie was not alone; his daughter, a
girl of eighteen, was with him, and her
face, too, was clouded with sadness. AS
she tossed back her bright curls, and
raised her eyes lovingly and trustingly
to her father, who had so tenderly sup
piled her mothers place, proving that
men, too, have a deep fount of tender
ness in their natures, which, at times,
can even be matenal; the parents heart
smote him for the pain he was inhict-
ing.
But the rector of Rivington never
paused when he had duty to perform;
however painful that duty was, he
walked up unilinchingly to it, even as
the brave soldier walks up untlinching-
ly to the cannon's mouth. Turning his
sad eyes on his daughter, he said.
"My child, you know that your hap
piness is as dear, even dearer to me than
my life, and l cannot willingly consent
to your throwing it away"
"Yes, father" she said, while the
tears gathered in her eyes, and fell
slowly down in great drops on her lap,
81 know how tenderly you love me,
how you have been father, mother,
nurse, and friend to me, throwing only
sunshine around my way, and shield
ing me from every sorrow, and"
"Yes, yes, my child" interrupted
the rector, with emotion, ,"and will con.
tinue to do 50, if you will only permit
me. My child, my child, cannot stand
quietly by and see you throw the jewel
happiness away, and not put forth my
hands to stay you, my voice to implore
you"
His tones were full of emotion, while
his frame trembled with the intensity
of his feelings.
"My child" he continued, "if ever a
parents heart is stirred to its deepest
depths, it is when he sees the daughter
he has tenderly nurtured link her fate
with that Of drunkard. / cannot stand
by and see this sacrifice without crying
out, My God, my God, give me
strength to bar out from my home this
terrible evil; give me the power tC
shield and to save my child from this
gigantic misery-a misery so deep t hal
no plummet can sound its depths-its
fearful depths"
Alice Carington'5 face grew deadly
pale as her father spake, and she CRIED
out, in tones of agony,
SO, fat her, spare me all this; hav,
not the strength to send from me th
only man love save my father. 1t Isl
dreary thing, dear father, for woman
to tear out from her heart the love o
her girlhood and her womanhood, ant
to walk forevermore alone. How cal
my lips ever say to the man love, 'Go
| cannot marry you.'"
"My child, you must"
81 love him, father"
"Tear your love out Of your heart
before it rends your heart" he SAID bit
terly.
80, father" she moaned.
"Better that, my child, than hug a
affection which can bring you only sol
row-a grief whose talon claws will
rend apart your very body and soul
Alice, Alice, you know not what ii is
be a drunlSard's wife,"
81 will reform him after we are MAJ
ried," she said, eagerly.
"Reform him first, and marry hiI
afterwards, my daughter but II woma
sadly overrates her strength when sh
marrles a drunkard to reform him."