Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1873-11-06

nd which effectually checked all famil- |
.iarity; for though she did not repel notice,
she never courted it, and it seemed to me |
! she grew daily more winning and beauti-
full. .viir.tf e;a Cd 8 --s.ea a5 aa
1 have said Twas confirmed old bach |
elor even then, and this is to be no school |
BOYS tale of youthful love. l was long
pas. all the enthusiasm of my youth. Ger
tainly / did admire her, possibly l was
learning to love her, but it was the calm,
unimpassioned love one bears to beauti- !
full and innocent child, or 10 some unpro-
tected dumb thing whose very helplessness
is constant appeal to our kindly nature.
BIT let me describe her rs she was when
I first saw her. | have said that was
old then--ay, old, no doubt, as her father
might have been, or even, it may be, as
her grandfather, if she had one But yet
she was not young-I mean she was not a
girl, not in the first bloom of youth, and
her beauty was not of the rosy, pink and
white, Olushing type that poets sing and
lover-like boys rave about No; hers was
the early maturity of loneliness, perfect
in repose, with mild, thoughtful eyes, in
telligent and tender, a trihe sad at times,
but lighting up with quick brilliancy as
some new object met her view, or some
vivid thought darted its lightning flash
through her brain-for she was wonder
fully quick of ception-with an ex-
quisite figure, splendidly full and sym
metrical. yet swaying and supple as a
young willow, and with unstudied grace
in every quick, sinewy motion.
She spent little upon dress Ct was sure
she was not wealthy but though there
was little variety, her dress was always
exquisitely neat and in perfect good taste
of some soft glossy fabric. smooth as silk
and lustrous as satin, and of the softest
shade of silver-gray, that color SO beautiful
in itselfand SO becoming to beautiful wear
ers; simply made, but fitting with nicely
more like the work of nature than of art
to every curve and outline of that full and
stately figure, and finished off round her
white throat with something scarcely
whittier; made to trail slightly. with grace
full sweep as she walked, but carried with
an easy unconciousness which gave it
dignity. Ihave always looked upon trains |
as awkward and most unwomanly appen-
daQes, but must own that as she carried |
hers it was graceful.
She never wore ornaments of any kind, |
no chain, no brooch, no ring or pin, not
even wedding-ring, that | ever saw
with nothing upon her well-shaped head
but her own thick, glossy hair, always ar
ranged with scrupulous eXactness-no
meretricious additions, no false braids, no
waterfalls, no. ringlets, no crimpings:
she wore her hair al naturel, conforming
as closely as possible to the shape of her
graceful head. Was not that the style in
which Grecian beauty was wont to adorn
itself in the days when Grecian art gave
to mankind the peerless statues destined
through future ages to "encllant the
world ?" But have spoken Of the alb
sence Of y wedding ring and that reminds
me that have not yet told you that she
was q mother. She had twins-two rolly-
poly blue-eyed things wonderfully like
herselE-little shy. graceful creatures, al
ways together, always playful.
used to see them trotting through the
passages, or climbing up and down the
stairs, but they always evaded me, and ii
was long time before / could get near
them. They would stand peeping out at
me from behind a half-open door, with
shy, startled glances of furtive curiosity;
but if / called to them, or reached out my
hand, or took step toward them, they
would dart away, and would hear. their
little footsteps scampering down the pas
sages ~ if fear lent them wings. But at
last, by slow degrees, I won their conf
dence, and then they would come to me
uncalled and climb upon my knees, and
rest fondly in my arms, or lay their bright
heads upon my shoulder in fearless con-
tent. Ay, they liked to have the old man
toss them in the air, and rumple their
glossy hair, or admire the plant grace of
their young supple limbs; but never from
their lips, or from their mothers, did /
ever hear any mention of their other par
ent.
think she was evidently fond of her
beautiful little ones, and proud of them too.
She would often lead them out into the
garden, where, seated on bench, in the
shade of its one tree, she would watch
their untiring frolics with calm maternal
tenderness; and sometimes, sheltered be-
hind my window blind, l have seen her,
when she thought herself wholly unob-
served, join in their sports with a graceful
abandon, and zest apparently rs unaf-
fected as their own; but if a chance step
or sound betrayed an observer, then she
was in one moment calm, dignifed, and
reserved again; and if either of the little ,
ones, led on by the eagerness of play and /
the exuberance of animal spirits, became
in the least rude or boisterous, she knew
in moment how to check and subdue the
little offender, and never let them go be-
yond the bounds of propriety.
Often, as | watched this pretty by-play, |
or saw her moving about the house in quiet
dignity, had puzzled myself with vague
conjectures about her. / had made up my
mind that she wasAot a woman of wealth, |
and it seemed to me that she stood very
much alone in the world. No person ever
came TO see her: no letters were brought |
to her. did not think she had husband
but-was she a widow? | did not know
that she was, and could not inquire She |
never spoke of her own affairs; and affa-
BILE as she was, and gentle in manner,
there was something about her which re-
PEELED intrusion. l had, indeed, no right
to inquire, and | think no man living
would have had the folly to ask her such
question, expecting to obtain an answer.
At least had not. Sometimes ! battered
myself had almost won her confidence,
as if she wanted to make friend OF me.
Once In particular, when had addressed
to her some few words of simple kindness,
| fancied she was moved. She half
turned in her chair, fixed her great lus-