Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1874-01-03
TRUE UNTO DEATH.

0j6Os J
resting-place, and the sounds OF
labor have ceased for a brief season.
How blue is the vault of heaven
how clear the stars that look so sol
emn when, in the hearts that are
weary of life, we lift fearful eyes to
pray for pity from Him whose COM
passion is over all His hand created,
Memory stands firm at her post
as accuser or comforter, and turn
back the pages of life that has been
sullied BY sin and washed with tears
and read when the world is not
by. l am a Southern refugee. Far
away, where Summer sits queen
the long bright year through, my
home lies q mass Of blackened, un-
slightly ruins, as yours were when
that terrible night whose date is too
recent to be foFgotten-herce mer-
ciless flames rioted like fiends amid
your household gods. There was
another-we were but two OF thou
sands-who had not where to lay
her head when they drove us like
thieves, from the luxury amid which
we are born. Sweet Annie M,
wild grasses grow over her pulseless
heart, while mine thFobs on. The
proudest blood of the South ran blue
in her veins. While her father was
yet penniless man, without profes-
sion or name, the beautiful heiress
of the old estates eloped with him
from school, and they Were married
without so much as "by your leave"
to a pompous suitor, whose white
locks and venerable years, backed
by q million dollars, appealed more
strongly to the favor Of her family
than her own.
Blinded by the alteration she be
slowed upon her husband, he young
wife hastened with him to her faith
er, with never a doubt but that they
would be welcome, or at least for
given, to. find her discarded, dis
owned outcast, disinherited and for
saken, the door of home closed to
her forever, and the curse Of disobe-
dience resting upon her shelterless
head.
In a wild and rugged section of
one of the Southwestern States,
stood a poor dwelling, half farm
house, half cottage, where the moth
era kind and generous woman,
used to bardships and priyations all
her life-cooked the frugal meals,
washed the homemade linen, and
secured the hard, white floors with
her own hands; and the father, stur-
dy and independent, toiled upon his
seanty acres, and literally earned his
bread t'by the sweat of his brow. -
This was the birthplace and home
of Annie's father; & here her moth
er, the late heiress and belle-pet-
ted child Of Fortune, whose lightest
whim had been law-found re-
fuge. No show and pomp met the
.disheartened and huln4ll@ ted fugitive
bride, but love gave her tendereSt
greeting and welcome to refuge
from which she never went until her
last home was made ready and, she
borne out to sleep in the valley.
The idaintily reared girl became the
idol of the household, and in that
iEine7coYered cot, where love, trans
formed poverty into luxury, and
content sweatened hardship, were
passed the happiest days of her life.
Little cared she-this bonnie
bride, this ,loye-crowned Queen Of \
her husbands heart-for the palaces
wherein Kings dwelt. Soon a new
Joy stirred in her bosom, and day
BY day she busted her cunning
white fingers with embroidery. and
bits Of muslin; and here, a year af-
ter her marriage, she sang soft, |
sweet lpIlabies over her frst-born, a
little daughter, whom she named
Annie. Surely :, she said, with sol
m mnnlly-tendeF J, eyes, Hmy cup rurnnleth INN #
: Sweet little mother-I seernto see
her now, as she lay, with her baby
on her arm, studying the pink, pla-
cid, expressionless face of the sleep
ing, mite of humanity, persuaded
that it was the S''Yery picture" of the
dark, handsome, bearded face that
bent smiling over his treasures.
But a shadow, dark as the grave
in its gloom, hovered over the dear,
new home--the shadow of the An
gel of Death, who stood at the por-
tai, and softer grew the voice of the
young mother, and slower the step
that tended downward to the valley
of shadows. A mighty yearning
was In, her heart to see her father
once more, to hear his voice pro-
nounce her forgiveness and give as
surance of protection to her babe,
SO soon to know, as she had, the
want of a mothers love and guid1
ance. 81 cannot die, if I may not
see him; 1 could not rest in my
grave at last if 1 do not hear him
promise" she pleaded, as she tossed
with feyer-crimsoned cheeks and
lips. So he came in time to hear
her last eloquent appeal to grant
her petition with tears and sobs,
and to pour out unavailing prayers
that her life might be spared him,
True to his prejudices against her
husband, he stipulated that the child
should never bear its fathers name,
but adopt that of its mother, Annie
M.
Objection could not be made at
such time; but when, with her last
words, she asked that it be left to
the care of her husbands mother,
his wrath blazed fiercely; but the
will that never bent before yielded
to the pleading eyes of his dying
child as they followed him, and he
sealed his consent upon the lips that
would ask no more of him on earth.
An hour later, with her hands clasp
ed in her husbands and her head
-pillowed on the bosom where it had
lain in its infancy, she slept the
sleep that knows no waking.
Mr.. M returned home after
the funeral; but slaves were sent to
/ II L a Al ,.n,