New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1872-11-17
FANNY FERN.
One of Her Little Levers.
From the Hearth and Hene.I

| IFr0m the Hearth and aeme
Oace upon q time, when little country
girl came to New York to make her first
visit, her first thought was to manage to get
| directory and look out the number of a
| certain house. She forgot, for the time the
park, the stores, the pictures, the theatre,
but stole oft quietly, looking up the names
Of the streets until she foUnG the right one,
| then pursued it until she came to a brown
| stone house whose windows were all thrown
| open, where flowers were blooming on the
| window lodges, and a canary singing gaily
| in q gilded cage. Walking rapidly on until
| she saw the number, II knew it, she said
| delightedly. "Of course her home wouldn't
| look like the rest. It's just like her. She
| always said she liked flowers and birds and
| cir and sunlight"
The little girl walked up one side. down
| the other, paced back ward aud forward
watching the windows. Presently lady
| came to one, bent over q rose in bloom,
gathered few leaves and disappeared.
The little girl had stood perfectly still,
| watching her with eager eyes, and when
the lady was gone she started back to her
hotel with feeling Of satisfaction, and yet
filed with longing.
Where have you been wandering through
the streets OF this great city alone p was
the inquiry.
I've been to see where Fanny Fern lived,
and I saw her too; she came to the window.
She lives in a big brown house, with the
windows all open and the rest of the people
have theirs all closed. / knew it was her
house, too, before got there. The bird and
the flowers told NE she lived there Oh! [
do wish | could 90 to see her But then,
I'd just be like any other little girl to her,
and, of course, she can't see them all"
After that. whenever the little girl came
to the city, she went over and walked be-
Broadway, half its attractions were missed,
for she had heard that there the bold, free
step and genial manner of Fanny Fern often
distinguished her from the crowd of prone
naders, and so she fruitlessly kept her
watch, but never accomplished her desire.
Finally the word came, Fanny Fern is
dead! 1t seemed that it could not be so.
Death, and the Fanny Fern the children
knew, SO bright, 50 loving and SO gay,
seemed far apart. After the sad news, she
who had paced up and down before that
cheerful house little girl, retraced her
steps. The blinds were down, the emblems
Of mourning draped the door, but the flow
ers still doomed upon the lodges. AS she
walked up and down, how windy came up
before her that bright sunny afternoon,
and the lady bending so benderly over her
flowers.
See remembered. too, what heaven of |
delight was opened to her in that dreary |
age Of childish literature, when one Christ |
mas morning she drew from out her mothers |
long stocking Little Ferns for Fauny's |
Little Friends"
Who ever so entered into children's sym
pathies and feelings beforeG Morals we're
thrown to the winds. Indeed, Fanny
seemed to hate them as much as the chill
Gren did. But, instead, every childish leaf
thrown Oft by her happy pen breathed the
purest, largest morality. Chitdren's hearts
expanded under her words like buds under
the warm sunlight. Love was the fruit Of
every line.
The world never seemed so fair before.
nor earth SO delightful, as when she drew
her sunny pictures. The vision Of that
aoating island, green to the waters edge,
IN which she wished TO gather all tie chill
ren and make life beautiful and bright
for them, haunted nay childish dreams
q Wouldn't it ever be ~ To-day, even, il is
with sigh of regret. Every
5hild who read Little Ferns" felt the beat
ng OF her great warm, loving heart
There was a love that could inclose every
little waif Ranks and conditions were IN,
Known. The etarveling from Five Points,
gIiIny with dirt and stepped in vice, showed
o her his possible good the little, glinning,
naked negro was a child, and therefore heir
o her love.
E0 impressions of common brotherhood, |
10 realization that We are all children of
he one Father. have ever been expert
need comparable to those awakened by the
'ashetic Iittle sketches that caused our
earts to ache with SORROW and glow with I
owe for poor little uncertainties. Nor was f
t that patronizing c0ndcscension Of pity E
or the poor THAT taints our older phIIan. I
hropy. {
II is great thing Go SO Impress the
lindg Of children, to till them with beauG-
al thoughts, to inspire them with universal
,ye, and to lift them above al! that is petty '
nd unworthy. Such impressions are last {
Ig, and to-day the world is brighter, hap {
Ter, and better that there once lived upon
Eauny Kern I