Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1873-02-13
stItfteD Storn.
From Dickens Household Words.
Ny Fortune.

A GREAT many years ago-two-and-
twenty years tonight well remem-
ber what cold, wet night it was, with
thick sleet driving agains; the win
dows, and melancholy, moaning wind
creeping through the leafess branches.
1t had been quite sad winter time to
US at home-the only sad one had
ever known, for it was just two or
three weeks after the accident had
happened that first laid me on NV
couch, and only a few days before, nv
father had told me that should never
be able to rise from it any more. 1t
had been heavy blow to us all.
We sat together in the drawing
room all the long evening, my father,
and my mother. and my sister Kate
had gone the day before TO some
friends of ours in the country. Ole
gets SO soon used 10 misfortunes and
dlsappointments when just little
time has passed; but, at the first, they
are often so hard to bear, and l think
that never, at any time, did feel such
sorrow at the thought that must be
an invalid my whole life as / did that
night. / was only a girl-not fifteen
yet: and at that age We are SO full of
bright dreams about the future, look
ing forward with such clear, joyous
hopefulness to the world that is just
beginning to open before US, stretching
out our hands so eagerly to the golden
light that We think we see in the far
distance, 1t was SO hard to have the
bright view shut out for ever, to have
the bright dreams fade away. to have
all the hopes that to me had made the
thought Of life SO beautiful, torn from
me for ever in one moment.
had borne the knowledge of it all
quite calmly at first; it was only now
that thought 1 really felt and knew
all that l was losing. But, thank God,
my life has not been what in my faith
lessness thought, that night, it would
be; thank God, that the whole bitter
ness Of those few hours thought has
never come 70 me, as it did then,
again.
Early in the evening my father had
been reading to US aloud but since he
ceased, no word had been spoken in
the room. He had been writing for
the last two hours my mother, sitting
by the fire, was reading. The whole
house was silent; and from without,
the only sounds that came to US were
the wind bowling through the trees,
and the cold rain dashing on the win
dows-both cheerless sounds enough to
hear. 1t was indeed night for melan.
choly thoughts and to one ill and
weak as l was then, perhaps it was to
be forgiven that, thinking of the future
and the past, looking back upon the
happy days that were gone, and for
ward to where the sunless clouds hung
so heavily, should scarcely be able
to press back the tears that tried te
! blind me.
t For when We are very young WI
shrink SO from feeling prison-bOund
we pray SO earnestly, that if sorrow
must come to us, it may rather burs
in sudden storm upon us, and, passing
! ! away, leave the blue SKY clear again
d than that our whole life should b,
wrapped up in a cold gray shrouo:
through which no deep sorrow cal
ever pierce into our hearts-no deeI
JOY ever come 10 gladden. US.
And in that gray shroud | though
that my life was to lie hidden an
withered and now, while as yet it wa
only closing over melville with pa'
sionate resistance l would still hav
struggled to tear it back, felt ths
my hands we're bound.
A little thing will sometimas serv
IN divert or1r th0n0hta aven Wh0n the