Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1875-11-10
Muufn ANffAs
H26.


written on marble in the little graveyard
............s............a.
Mumfn ASifA,
K6
if..-,s.4..ts+..+ssss+sssst+
Not sad, since death, coming however
early. cannot mar The proportions Of o beau
tiful life. The power Of the iconoclast stops
with outward form-the fair ideal remains
forevemore a part Of the worlds incorrupt-
bic treasure
Anita's sweet, foreign name suited her
we'll Perhaps its choice had been guided by
some subtle mother instinct, springing, ar
butus-liko. out of the rough soil and amidst
the stern SHOWS of circumstance.
Her features were a rare study, combining
the beauty and nameless grace for which we
do not often look among those whose very
life seems continual war with hostile ele-
ments. But nature, in touching the face OF
her child to a marvellous perfection, had
acted in tender obedience to the great law OF
compensation traceable through all the works
and ways of God-for Anita was hopelessly
hunchbacked. Her deformity was the key
to her life. Doomed to certain solitude
aud isolation from the work and play of her
sturdy brothers and sisters, debarred from
active participation in SO many of their in
terests, the child was thoughtful and sensi-
tive far beyond her years.
Some natures thus shut in by bodily in.
trinity have contracted upon themselves like
the old torture-chamber of the lnquisition.
| shudder even now TO recollect how once,
upon solitary journey, as our stagecoach
drove up 10 the lonely inn which marked a
little country station, | saw, standing in the
roadside, with averted face, small figure no
taller than an ordinary child of five or six
years, but strangely broad-shouldered, |
thought, for one so young; and as | still
looked curiously, it turned about with slow,
defiant movement, and woman's face gazed
up at me, dark bitter, despairing-the black
eyes, under their heavy brows, full Of the
fierce fire which marked the gradual starya-
ton Of a soul
Auita's face expressed far different his
tory. The sorrowful mystery of her lot
sometimes weighed very heavily upon her,
but could not shake her simple trust that
God who made her remembered and loved
her still The rough fishermen, who often
looked after her with tender whispers as she
passed, felt, perhaps, that her brow grew
sanity under its crown of suffering, although
they would hardly have put the vague fancy
in words
The long, low reach Of sandy coast, ex-
tending for many miles along the Cape, is al
ways peculiarly dangerous for vessels dis
abled by a northwest gale but the oldest
sailors could remember no more fatal season
than the fall and winter when Anita was
| eight years old. As many as twenty sail
were known to 90 to pieces in single dread
| full day upon the bar outside the harbor of
the little fishing village. There was no
lack of brave hearts and willing hands to
give aid if possible; but too often human
strength and sympathy stood poweress on
| the Shore and saw the ptiess surges engulf
their victims, leaving no trace behind.
Sometimes an incoming wave, like some
! huge feline creature, would toss its helpless
/ prey, in cruel sport, far up the sandy beach
aud so it happened that one night spar,
| with the form of a woman lashed upon it,
was dropped at the very feet of Anita's
1 father sturdy John Grey. When the piece
| Of sailcloth fastened about her was unwound,
a child was found tightly clasped in the
arms of the poor, dead mother-a little boy,
a wear old. John Grey, feeling hastily for
the little heart, thought he discemcd some
lingering thrill of life, and set off for his cot
tage at swinging run, leaving his compan
ions TO follow more slowly with their saddeI
and heavier burden,
Anita, who had been standing at the win
dow, straining her eyes into the darkness
and listening in an awe-struck silence 10 tn,
boom OF the breakers and the rush aud roal
of the storm outside, met him at the dooi
with outstretched arms, and look whicl
seemed TO comprehend the situation in
moment. Scarce knowing why he did so
the fisherman laid the child i'll her arms
A wonderful light broke over her eager face
"Oh, mother mother You can saw
him r. she cried
The fsherman's wife, as was needful, wa
well versed in all the love of restoratiyes
and before two hours had passed, the poo
little waif thus snatched out of the teeth o
the sea, slept peacefully in Anita's arms
A royal child he was, strong-mbed and beau
tiful, the blue network of veins showing
with startling distinctness through the white
: transparent skin Of his temples. His httl
garments testified to the proud and tende
care which had been taken of him; but moth
Z ing found upon him or his poor mother, CAV
: any cline to their identity. The sea kept it
secret well, for no other token of the helples
7 wreck ever came to land,
"Well, mother" said John Greys grut
but not unkndly voice, one day, "that littl
! un must go to the asylum, s'pose !"
! 81 don't know" was his wife's hcsitau
answer, the universal mother tendernes
/ looking through her eyes; may be we coul
J keep it ourselves, John"
! "No I" was the decided reply. "Nol
Z the child'll be well took care OF there an
4 you've got an extra pair o hands for bab,
b tendn', let alone its bein' hard enoug
) sometimes to put bread into the mouths {
oar own"
Anita rose up from her low seat by til
] ..rttI ta Ial ,t1a IN la
throbbng heart, and stood before her fathe
Some great change had come over her; T,
one brief moment the soul within seemed
wrest from an untoward fate the boon
erect grace for the childish, misshapcn forr
/ The sparks like fire glowed in her eyes, an
r her lips were pressed tightly together.
. Anita Hess me what ails the child
| Father she said, pointing over h'
! shoulder; "father, am not like other chi
G dren. never can do what they do, or hay
I what they have. Sometimes I've thought
wasn't of any use Give me the baby
/. The fisherman tried TO draw her dow
: upon his knee There was world OF III
p spoken tenderness in the rough caress.
I Child" he said "what could you d
. with it--a little thing like you Z"
"Oh could take care OF him--l kno'
i know | could !" she answered, her yoic
= falling into low recitatiye, the underton
, of resistless emotion. No one need min
. him but me, and | would never, never /
/ tired oh, father father God gave hin
a to me out of the roaring seas--to me, father
+ You won't take him away 2"
lie drew his coarse sleeve across his eye
What do you say, mother 7"
$ His wife was weeping.
; Anita's handy little thing, and powe
J. iul womanly for her age. guess we migl
Y let her try, father"
: The unnatural glow faded from the child
face, the little strained figure relaxed, an
( she sank down in her place, sobbing hyste
r ically. As her tears fell ON its forehead, ii
! babe turned uneasily but at its first 10
! moan Anita was quiet in an instant
| marvellous expression OF age and self-rel
e anoe came into her face. She held the chill
+ closer, and commenced low, grooming lu