The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1876-08-26
FANNY-A SKETCH.
BY AN OLD LADY.

world; met its griefs, enjoyed its happiness
made friends and connections, buried then
all save one son, and came back here alone
to review and muse over my joys and my
sorrows. OF the joys the memory now il
pleasant, and delight to recall them. Fol
the sorrows, my heart has received consola
ton in the mercy of Him, whom l hat
never forgotten in my prosperity, and who
in adversely, never forgot me. This may
seem like boasting; but it is the simple anG
sincere approval of my conscience. 1t ii
not boastng. The boaster looks to the cal
and to the praise of men. But nobody
knows, or will know who makes this decla
ration. Personal vanity forms no part o.
my motive in writing the simple truth con-
corning myself.
l can see from my window the willow
tree which droops over the graves of my
father and mother. And | recognize il
every object near me some memorial Of
them. Here, in this old house they lived
their peaceful lives; and here they calmly
| died. The very chair in which | sit was
my mothers favorite seat; and l have
caused my fathers chair to be brought
back to its accustomed place. In the old
church sit in the same pew in which as a
child | used to wonder if He, in whose
honor | was told we met, was as weary
with the long sermon as poor little was.
1t was childish thought. But if some OF
the elders could entertain it, they might
remember also what the Good Book says
about "much speaking"
But it is not entirely of myself that l sat
down to write. Solitude makes US selfish;
and lonely person, such as have been,
who takes pen in hand, is apt to be diffuse
concerning herself have but one cores
pondent, and he my only surviving child,
can only reach me, by letter, two or three
times year during his long absences. He
is surgeon in the navy. l post letter
for him regularly on the first Monday of
every month; and it takes its chance to
reach him or not. You will judge, from
the day of writing, what special religious
to the dead. To meet the last, wait in
hope. To write to the living is my i'm
provement of the train of sad yet pleasant
reflections which are awakened by the SOL
emn commemoration.
Having but this one correspondent, my
absent son, you may conceive that l was
quite surprised to receive letter without
the usual marks of transit over sea. 1t is
now five years ago, and l remember the
little incident as we'll as if it were yester-
day. Well l may remember; SO many
things have grown out of it, and the mo-
notony of my life has been so much relieved
by them. When the letter came to my
hands | INDUCED in the usual wonder,
which people unused to letters prolong, in
stead of closing it by breaking the seal at
once. | looked first to the signature, when
the seal was broken, for my curiosity could
not wait. And yet the signature did not
satisfy me. l did not know the name
Why cannot ladies, when they are writing
to strangers, put the prefix which indicates
whether they are matrons or maidens; or,
if they do not like that, tell you whose
married wives or whose unmarried daugh-
tiers they are? Despairing of guessing who
the writer could be from her signature, l
next read the letter diligently through to
see if that would reveal the mystery.
The purport of the letter was to apprise
me that young lady and her invalid brother
had been directed to our village for the
double advantage of healthy situation
and place where moderate income would
support them. The writer said that she
had been emboldened by tour old friend
ship" (who could she be? to give them an
introduction to me. But there were GER
tain things she could not say in an open
note which she wished that should know.
She gave the strangers the very best char
acter. Their family was highly respectable.
Their culture was of the highest order; but
the death of their parents (too frequent a
cause had left them without the means to
maintain the style of living to which they
had been accustomed. Connections had
rendered assistance; but it was in such a
way that their independent spirit rejected
what would have been an oppressive kind.
ness. d" In fact, said my correspondent,
"they are dreadfully poor. This makes
no difference in my estimation of them,
and know you too well to suppose that it
can in yours. But it is as well that you
should know their antecedents.''
Who could this be who knew me so we'll,
while had not the slightest knowledge OF
her? l thought when l should see hel
friends would inquire. But may as wei
say here, that at the first interview did
not like to ask, since it would seem to be
questioning their credential. And after
slipped my mind altogether. had not te
wait long to see the persons recommend dec
to me. In day or two after received ar
envelope inclosing the young lady's caro-
and the letter of introduction.
1t was an event for me to go into the
street except on Sundays. l had usually
taken exercise in the fields and woods where
had played as child. My old playmates
are dead or removed, and did not wish t.
make new acquaintance. Had the strang
ers proved commonplace, like nine in ter
of the new people you meet, a call, and it,
return stately performed at polite inter
walls, would have been the sole results o.
the letter of introduction. do not mear
to say that nine in ten people are common
place to those who know them. But they
fail to interest strangers.
The house in which Miss Fanny Il sup
press her name had taken lodgings, plainly
indicated that she consulted economy.
was of the most humble. But the goot
woman to whom it belonged was of the sal
of the earth. The moderate price which
she would receive from her boarders was t.
her great matter: and thus all parties
were suited. For l was sure there wa
nothing that kind heart could sugges
which the hostess would leave undone.
was very much pleased with Fanny
| NV heart ALWAYS GOES ont to the refine,