The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1875-04-24
THE ONE MISTAKE.
BY "NEp UNDERWOOD"

The two children looked back wistfully
through fast-falling tears, as the carriage
whirled them away from their old home;
the dear old fashioned farm house, out
spreading its messy, wing like roof in the
midst of golden grain fields, the green hills
waling it in on the east, and the sun going
down at eventide over CLEAN of distant
waters.
But it's proprietors, the noble hearted doc
tor, and the meek and blue-eyed woman,
who for years and years had been his true
and tender wife, had both gone to their last,
long sleep, lying side by side under the rus
Ting, golden branches of the old chestnut
tree.
There, their two orphan children, could
see the double mounds, with the yellow
leaves drifting over them, in the dreary
October sunlight, as they were wbirled
down the bread carriage road, and away
from all their hearts had learned to love,
in their short, bright childhood. Going to
their new home, to live with their uncle,
the Rev. Thomas Templeton. Their father,
had left them to the charge of this uncle,
he being a minister of Christ, and as
matter of course, would be kind and just
to the children.
Thus argued the little doctor, whose heart
was as true as heaven, and as tender as
Gods mercy, and calling his boy to his bed
side; "He'll be good to you, Rob-" he said,
land you must be good to little Mag"
Rob said nothing, only wept in his pas
sionate, impetuous way; and he wept again
now, as his unce's carriage whirled him
away like the hand of relentless fate, from
the home of his boyhood; but little, blue
eyed Mag sat pale and quiet.
Mems homes are very often indicative of
their character; the Rev. Thomas Temple
tons home was certainly indicative of his
A gable-roofed cottage, standing on
one of the prim, clean streets of a New
| England village, the granite doorsteps and
the broad gravel walks wholly guiltless of
| any thing like earthly soil; not a vine or
shrub, or a bit of superfluous green any
where to be seen. Within, spotless walls,
| and dustess floors; chambers white with
| nice-ironed linen, and great, weary sit
| ting room, which always suggested an idea
of vaults and charnel houses. One turned
| to the culinary departments with a wistful
longing for some glympse of human negli-
gence and disorder; but it was nowhere to
be found. Prim, Stiff uncompromising
! order was the rule of the reverend gentle
mans home, as it was of his own life.
His wife must have been a rare woman.
we were about to say, but the Rev. Thos.
| Templeton was too self-important, too dom
inant a man, to have an actual, bona fide
wife; she was myth rather-a kind of off
| shoot of his own peculiar nature.
| The chilling atmosphere of this prim,
| stately home so utterly unlike the happy,
cheerful home from which they had been
torn away, frozl the hearts of the children,
| as no Arctic breath could have done.
Poor little Mag settled down into dull,
hopeless apathy; Rob inheriting his faith
er's passionate nature, broke out into fierce,
uncontrolled protest.
He could not, would not, endure such an
existence; he meant to go back to the old
farm old, free, happy life.
"You are headstrong lad, | perceive,
nephew" broke in the clerical uncle, and
then he drew the reins of discipline little
tighter, until their fierce CALLING made the
! boy desperate. And then and there the dis
cipline began: cruel, enduring, and relent-
less as the grave; yet it failed to break, Or
even subdue the boys proud spirit. Ten
years later found him the same Rob that
he was that October afternoon-a veritable
chip of the old block.
He was clerking in large warehouse
then, in which his uncle held large inter
ests, for the worthy divine, while feigning
death to the world, was not slow at turning
an honest penny. Consequently, he had
invested certain surplus funds, and had got
his nephew in as clerk, when his education
| was completed. Rob dislked the whole
! thing; and but for one consideration, he
would never have acceptedit. Little Mag,
grown into sedate, silent maiden, with a
shadow of unshed tears ever darkenng her
sweet, blue eyes, was toiling away as gov
erness in accordance with her uncle's COM
mand; and Rob had set his heart on max
ing her independent, not only of her hated
occupation, but of her uncle. After that
he meant to 60 to sea, taking Mag with
him of course, on q long, happy voyage,
far away from all the hard, loveless asso-
Citations that surrounded him; and then
well, he would come back, and buy his
fathers old homestead, and he and Mag
would settle down, and enjoy themselves to
their hearts content.
So his dreams ran. Air castles, sure
enough, but they caused him to consent to
his uncle's plans; and day after day he sat
in the low, noisy warehouse, behind his
dusty desk, his limbs cramped, his brain
on fire, and torturing memory ever be-
fore him of broad sunny pastures, and
happy home of love, where Gods sunshine
gladdened the fields, and where no one ever
worked, or said prayers, or listened to tire,
less lectures on justice and duty.
Poor Rob! he tried hard to be a man-to
bear with quiet foIttude his better lot; but
at times his strongest efforts failed, and his
wild, fiery nature burst out in perfect
thunderstorm of passion and indignation.
At such times, his uncle looked on in
pious horror, until the storm had blown
over and then he subjected his nephew to
more rigid discipline.
Shut ont from all home pleasures and
influences, genial, fun-fellow like Rob
must find amusement some where. Drawn
by kind of irresistible fascination, Rob
plunged into the evils against which his
uncle so solemnly and repeatedly warned
him. Indeed, the good mans warnings
acted as suggestions, and drew the poor
boys feet into many snare that he would