The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1876-03-16

tne ofe cbafca fonder ahd gave hefsel
! to him.
lie was good looking man, but never
over smart, the neighbors whispered
. and Always thought that Il was hii
fathers money more than anything els,
: thai kept him mp.
J But Justin, GrAndma DeAnc W bat be.
! came Of himi
There Il dark look about the whol,
matter. Lucy was made The victim ot
soine terrible fAlsshoOd. never blamed
Der father, for the losing OF the Old
homestead seemed completely TO sbatler
him.
only know that Squire Wheeler and
his son we're al the bottom Of Is, aud that
Lucy Reid vent to the altar believing
Justin bad been false TO her.
/ Dear me, how dreAdfnll--did he ever
come back
Yes, the next May Lucy bad been a
vile TIVE nsonths. Justin had not heard
OF her marriage, She Was At home visit
ing her father. WheH she first saw him
she fell down lie one stricken with a
1t. But be carried her into the house
and there learned all. Both had been
deceived.
II was terrible scene the old front
room witnessed. Justin swore vengeance
and il was not till, with elasped hands
and streaming eyes, the young wife
knelt to the only man she ever loved,
and pleaded for the life of her husband /,
that be promised for her sake to spare bis
life.
But from the day OF Justin's visit,
Lucy was changed woman. All the
light and gsdness of her being seemed
dead in her. She moved about her house
pale and quiet, with a look of patient
suffering 10 her once sunny eyes, that
made my bear. ache TO behold
And her busbaud-did she ever tell
him what she had learned.
think not, His father aud Lucy's
had died in less than two years after the
marriage. The Squire was much less
wealthy than was supposed. The next
spring Lucy and her husband moved out
west, and somehow people lost sight OF
them.
And Justipl
You know The rest, my child. He be-
came a moody, unhappy man, asking no
sympathy and giving none. But he was
always smart at bargain, and in few
years he had laid up enough to buy
Deacon Platts farm when his son went
south.
Ever since, be has added acres to his
lands and hundreds to the bank but for
all that, be Is man soufed toward all
his race, man who was never known to
give little child smile, or beggsr a
crust of bread.
have sometimes thought bis heart
was like a desert, without a tree to shade
or stream to gladden. IL. And yet u
bore bright blossom once; and believe
me, children, for it is the word OF an old
woman who has seen and knows much
of the ways Of man, 1t is always so.-
The heart may be great wilderness, but
in some of its by-ways there has grown
q flower.
Cora and looked at each other, and at
Uncle Charlie. just then Aunt Mary
came in. She had been out, and had not
heard OF Grandma Deane's visit.
But Cora stole up to her uncle, and
winding ber arms about his neck, whis-
pered: E.r grs
shall believe it always, Uncle Charlie,
now have heard the story Of Farmer
Keep, that there is blossom in the will
derness of every heart.
1t was sultry August day, in the
sommer passed at Meadow Brook The
wind, low aud slamberous as the hush OF
q mothers voice al nightfall, crept up
among The corn, and down among the
rye and wheat fields, that lay like broad
green folds about the dwelling OF Farm
|br Keep,
There WAS no poem Of flowers about
The front yard; no graceful harmoDizing
touches Of creeping vines or waving OF
curtains about the old red homestead;
aud yet il had quiet, substantial mat
ter OF fact physioguomy, that somehow
made q home feeling about your heart.
think 1t must have been this uDcon-
Gcioas feeling which decided the course
u The girl who stood at the point where
The roads dverge, and gazed wistfulIy
about her that afternoon.
She seemed very tired, and her coarse
straw bonnet and calico dress were GOV.
cred with dust. II you had looked in
her face yeu would not have forgotten IL.
IL conld not have seen more than fifteen
sumnefss II was very pale, and its
sweet, sad beauty made you think OF
nothing bnt summer flowers drenched
with summer rains.
Her eyes were Of that deep moist blue
that rolls out from under che edge Of
April clouds, and her lips, ripe and full,
had that touch Of sorrowiuluess about
them, which tells you always the hear
beneath is full of taars.
The girls hand clasped tightly the little
boy 8 BY her side. The resemblance be-
tween them would have told you At once
they were brother aud sister, bat bis life
could not have covered more than third
of hers.
The little fellows eyes we're full Of
tears, aud the bright eurls that erept