Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1876-03-09

he wrapped shawl around her when the
weather was damp; he spent sIeeples,
nights IN devising means 10 make her look
as she used to in past years. and yroaned
III spirit as he thought of the picture of the
evening when he surprised Uncle Fred M
play with his children. And vet it never
| occurred to him that he had chilled the
spirit which lit up her face of old. She
knew he loved her. and was grateful for
his care; but the cold gray oil his lite set.
tied over hers, and all its warm. rich col
oring faded gradually away.
But daughter was born, and the moth
er's heart grew young again. Uncle Joseph
looked with puzzled delight upon the babe.
and his heart went ont with a deeper
affection to the fatherless boys, toward
whom he had certainly performed a par.
ent's love.
AIrt Madeline desired 10 called the baby
Alice; but Uncle Joseph, who had been
much exercised in regard TO her own name.
and wished it had been Martha. made seri-
Gus objections, and proposed to substitute
Eunice the name of his mother, "a weivhtv
Friend, as he expressed it, and an occa.
sional speaker in meeting. Aunt Madeline
sighed and yielded the point, and the child
was named for its worthy grandmother.
In lew months heavy sorrow fell up-
on Aunt Madeline. Fred. her eldest born
the first fair child that woke the mother
love In her heart, the image of his father,
and her idol, sickened and died. II was a
terrible blow to the poor mother. and she
almost sunk under IL, There was one ne
culiar trial which bore heavily upon her.
With their deep seated dislike to the
poDp> and yanIties Of the world, and As a
sign that they bore their testimony against
such things, Friend, had gone to the other
extreme IN regard TO the burial of their
dead, and the graves OF the best beloved
were unmarked and weed-grown. A little
more lenlencv had been exercised of late.
by the more liberal menberS. aud small,
plain stones had beel permitted Such a
stone marked the grave OF Uncle Fred
No weeds We're there. but myrtle marked
the spot, ami a white rose rev al the
head, Aunt Madeline wished A similar
stone al the grave OF her son: but Uncle
Joseph could see no reason why we
>hOnd cling 10 the cast off tabernacl,
when the spirit had gone To that better
land, where ileshly wants and heshlv feel
iu-s were unknown. That was an end of
the matter. Aunt Madeline watered the
grave oi her first born with her tears.
pressed her cheek against the cold stone
that bore the name OF her buried love. and
~ f'N N'tA al AMY liIt IupIe Iultu>t from
MS very powcrleSsness. She went about
her daily duties, her eye lit lc more dim.
her cheek little thinner her step less elias
tic. while [ ncle Joseph looked on with a
paug at his heart, and redoubled Kindness
to The wife who was his idol
In the glorious October days, with their
golden sunshine and gorgeous forests, the
peaceful haze toniug wood and sky. and
settling like balm over the mothers spirit
another daughter was born. Uncle Joseph
looked ii the pale mother and proposed to
call the babe Alice. \ flush suiiu>ed the
face OF Aunt Madeline; she pressed h's
hand and lay perfectly quiet the great tears
rolling down her checks. Uncle Joseph
cleared his throat with 80 loud Hem"
that Cousin Patience ordered him out of
the room. But Aunt Madeline claspcd his
hand firmly, and he remained. He wiped
hi> eye with the corner OF his red six
handkerchief. aud cOmmuned with himself
in perfect silence. The great loving. blum
dcuug heart began to perceive il had made
cropping il, way 10 the light.
Euuice was her fathers counterpart the
quainte>t, prlmme>t, oldest little thing
that ever lived. She SAID thee" among
her first words; Wore drab as naturally as
mouse doe, its fur; went to meeting with
her father, and sat the silent hour and "A
hair with her grave blue eyes never wink
ing but rowing sedatcly from one to anoth-
er OF the silent worshippers, occasionally
peeping under the broad brim of her ia
~ 80, ~. - thtn settling into rest. Over
aud fed lambs and chickens with a -.
lineSs that was amusing. She never stray
ed from his side, nor tore her dress, nor
tangled her hair, and was ALWAYS ready to
20 10 bed when desired.
But Alice-the beauty, the darling Of her
broihets,-what pest She was The rosy
checks, the laughing. black eyes, the little
rings OF jet that nestled close 10 the pretty
head, made a picture OF faultless beauty.
She stained face and clothes with berry
juice; she picked the brightest flowers and
fruit she selected tie brightest colored an
imal, for her pets tell asleep ia meeting
and tumbled of the seat, startling the 81
lent company with her >hrill screams and
to make up Tor her sleepiness there, had
her hit, black eyes wide open at bed
time. She would walk into the stable
among the horses. or 90 ankle-deep 10 the
water 10 help Phil sail his boat needless of
the remon>trauce of the quiet Eunice.
"Fatherwil be displea>ed with thee Alice
But now it came Uncle Joseph's turn to
suffer. lie was awakened one night by
the cries ot his darling. aud in moment
she wa in hi arms. The strong man grew
faint a lie felt the burning cheek, and
heard the plaintive moan for water. An
hour later. Jncle Joseph laid his hand on
the doctors arm ami led him to another
rUOu,-
What does thee hink of my daughter
he asked, his lips twitching convulsiveiy.
The haired DOCTOR shook his head;
1t is scarlet fever of the most malignant
type. The Lord Jesus be your physician;
| can do nothing for either OF YOU"
Uncle Joseph wrung the doctors hand
aud groaned aloud. Then he sought the
bedside of his child and sat with a white
face, gazing at his idol. SO the day and
the night passed. and another morning
dawred. LITTLE EI.icc moaned family and
looked eagerly around, tossing her head in
deirum.
Father she cried in distressful tones,
father"
Uncle Joseph pressed his lips to the
burning brow ana SAID, Here. my dau.h-
ter, father is here
Father" cried the child again. the pur
pie hue of her face fading, and an ashy
paieness succeeding; II can't See father"
Aunt Madeline turned the light full on
his face and started at the ghastly look
she saw there.
Il hear music said the child, ''beauti-
ful music and 1t is all light here; but it is
dark where thee stands, father. Mother is
here, and Father Fred and all but thee"
81 am here ,Eunice my daughter" groan-
ed the father
Come to this side, father" entreated
the child ''here where the music is. We
are here and can't bear to see thee alone in
the dark. Why don't thee come, father?'
My child, my child" said the poor fa-
ther, lifting her up and laying her white
cheek against his, almost rs white.
Thee can get over" urged the child.
''Oh, see now," she cried with a smile,
thee has no harp to make music with.
Here. take mine; I'll lead thee over"
She stretched out her arms and clasped
them around his neck, and there was si-
lence. Then he gave a groan as if his
heart was breaking; laid his dead child up
on the pillow; leaned his head upon Made
lines shoulder, and lifted up his voice and
wept
Side by side with her brother Fred lay
little Eunice, white rosebush the only
distinguishing mark of her grave.
III 70