Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1875-03-25


branches dropping over them and waving
to and fro with every breath of wind.
What lovely framing this would be for
the gay, fragrant blossoms that should
have that sunny window all to them
selves. Back of the house the grounds
sloped down to a clear, running brook,
that just here was broken into a success
sion of little cascades. A rustic bridge
spanned the stream, and just beyond was
a beautiful piece of woods.
Within the house the arrangement was
quite as satisfactory. A coy little parlor,
and back of it delightful sitting-room
looking off upon the woods, while the old
elm-tree stretched its graceful shadows
over it. Around this room 1 would gather
all the comfort and brightness possible.
Here was my precious library, beyond
all price to me. Its miscellaneous
character might have provoked
smile from ''wise and reverend heads.
l had all my life bought the books l
I wanted-not those ought to want. All
had been read and re-read, and were
precious from association as well Is for
their intrinsic worth. Each volume was
covered with hieroglyphics, to which 1
only had the key, and each was like the
face of an old friend.
My cabinet, too, was there. From
my earliest childhood / had mania for
collecting all manner of odd things it
had followed me through life, until now
had many valuable specimens and rare
curiosities, the gifts of friends who had
humored this fancy. In fact, my little
cottage threatened to be as much of
curiosity in its way as was that of Miss
Hellevi Hausgieble, that oddity of Miss
Bremer's creation.
But there was one room, the sanctum
of my little home, where no foot but
mine ever crossed the threshold. A
strangers presence would have profaned
it. This was sacred to the memories of
the olden time, and the dear ones who
had gone. Here was the secretary
my father always used, and which was
such wonder to my childish eyes. 1t
was fine, old-fashioned piece of furni-
ture that came into our house before /
was born /: and its odd little drawers and
cupboards, and the arched recess into
which clock was nicely fitted, and the
one private drawer always locked, were
to me an unfailing source of curiosity.
Bearer to me far than any modern ele-
gance, this old secretary / held as the
most precious treasure my house con-
tanned. All the furniture and belongings
of this room were relics of the dear old
days of my childhood, to which this spot
seemed the only link that bound me. To
those dear ones all the love of my heart
had been given, and these were the only
earthly memorials of the love and the
loved.
When came to this room, there was
always an involuntary pause at the door,
This is holy ground, something always
seemed to whisper, and warned me never
to take over that threshold the discon-
tent and strife of spirit at war with the
world. And whatever of good there may
have been in my life, whatever of noble
purpose and true endeavor, was brought
from that little room where an angel
presence seemed ever to dwell, and a
greater than angel presence stopped to
hear the lowly cry that went up for help.
Two or three years after coming into
possession of my delightful home,
malignant fever becoming an epidemic
swept through the place. On the out
skirts of the town, among other victims,
father and mother both died, after
short illness, leaving little orphan three
years of age. Some friends laughingly
proposed that l should adopt the little
waif. Absurd rs the proposal seemed,
it would force itself again and agair upon
my thoughts.
Now 1 had good deal of self-denial
and generosity in my nature, but I'M
DERIVING them was plenty of the "old
Adam" / would have no joint owner
ship in the child She should be wholly
mine or not mine at ALL But after dill
gent inquiry, found there was really
no one to claim the child, and she would
be sent to an asylum So i took her to
my heart and home.
"Poor child" said my enemies for /
had enemies-I suppose mostpeople with
strong individuality have them, "what
a dreary life she viii have OF it, with no
one but that old maid to care for her
She will ruin her by severity"
"She viii spoil her by indulgence, said
my friends who knew me better. No,
would do neither. would steer straight
between the two extremes. The little
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