Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1874-06-10
IsadOre's Secret.

"Heprayeth well, who loveth well.r
Grandpa called her the Winter Sunbeam,
--Grandnia only called her Pet,---but TO
the people Of the village, she was esquire
Gray's heiress, the queenly Isadore
Esqtire Gray was the one rich man in a
small village. His stately mansion, with
its lawn 10 front, filed with fine trees and
ornamental shrubbery, its conservatory Of
elegant exotics, its--well, why do we stop
to picture all the luxury which money gives
to tase aud skill, we all recognize the pic
ture. We have all seen Squire Somebody's
house aud we all know that it is at once the
source Of pride and envy to the villagers.
The occupants of the lowest cottage will
point / out to every visitor, and the weary
laborg will pause in his homeward walk to
look upon its fair surroundings.
But all have not seen the beautiful Isa-
dore, the 'Squire's grandchild and heress
So you all may imagine her likeness accord.
ing to y'ur taste,-blonde or brunette.
Her e,rriage stood at the door. Its noble
Steeds stamped and foamed, aud paved the
gravelet path, impatient Of delay. Her
coachmm was in his place, awaiting with
some iuPatience the coming Of his gentle
mistress Yet there she stood, forgetful Of
them all as she strove with dainty morsel
to lure back her pet bird, escaped from its
gilded cage amid the warmed and flower.
filled rooms to the sunshine which allured
without.
1t will never do, Dicky, my birdie"
she said, the outdoor world is cold,
though it looks so bright and pleasant so
you and | must stay in the cage"
Was it the little sigh that just parted
the red lips, the little cloud that passed DER
the fair brow, or the unwonted depth Of
thought in the dark eyes that led grandpa
to pause at his library window and look so
earnestly at his fair heiress, his daughter
and his pride
A moment later the bird had flown to her
hand, and had been restored with many
caresses to its palace cage, aud the steeds
were dashing through the principal streets
Of the village at pace which would have
rivaled ohm Gilpin in his reckless ride.
"A proud equipage that" said a stranger,
as it passed the one hotel of the little village.
AYE, aye, sir, answered mine host"
4" the team is well enough, but Miss Dora
is not SO proud Of herself as we all are of
her. The old Squire calls her the Winter
Sunbeam, because she came into his house
and heart one winter day in the midst of a
furious snowstorm, and like the sunbeam,
she will 60 into the poorest cabin as quickly
as into the stateliest mansion"
Where was Isadore going at that rapid
pace that bright Spring morn To the
Deighboring town of NJ, the nearest
railroad station.
And whom did she expect the whizzing
locomotive to bear to her awaiting welcome
That is the one great secret of her life, and
thereby hangs a tale"
The large mansion had not always lacked
the sunshine of happy smiles, and the music
Of merry voices. Three mirthful and mis-
chief-loying children had filled its rooms
with laughter and song. One loving and
manly boy, two gentle and loving girls,
had passed away from the hearth and home
One, lsadore's mother, who had died in
her infancy, leaving ber as priceless bless
ing in the lonely house, from which the two
had gone forth to sadder exile than that
Of death