The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1877-05-31


Than Mnllia aat On tina dnnrsAana In
the moonlight til 10 o'clock, f6 spite Of
her mothers remonssFances, srthss s},s
would Certainly take cold out there ia
the damp" Mo!lie felt az ifshe hid
"taken cold" already, s cold whcse sh,lI-
dering chill had benumbed forever de
whole warmth and hope Of her aIfe. Nos
till long after 1t was manifestlyl absurd 10
expect Dick, did ahe go reluctantly 6u
ataira, to toss and turn YSr the first time r
not ehe last, alas-in feyered wakefuln6es
| through the watches C. inc night-to en-.
| tertain grim spectres of doubt and sorrow.
In plecs OF the airy viuions wo4t to glori
| fy her imaginings.
ing makes her Aurora Leigh say:
Ten layers OF birthdays on q woman head
Must somewhat foasilirs her girlIsh mirfh,
! And tnaks her wiser; and that perforAs
| means aadder.
What have Eve DOPE for Mollie9 She
is sitting by windoT, book dropped
"a her lap, her BEAD leaning OH her baud,
looking ou. With wide open, unseeihg
away, from present scenes. The room
where she sits il evidently not In the old
farmhouse. It IS very high. ye.y nar-
row, the unpapered walls very white and
hard, with much the air of neat prison
cell, but for two or three pictures, and n
| few Rnick-knacks scattered about. that
take off something Of the rigid, convept-
like look, and impart touch Of individs
uality to the surroundings. Through
the window, which is high up in tEo
fourth story, are seen, frat, few brick
housts with square little back yards, then
o wide eSrsnse Of green meadow. In
the Distance, broad beautiful river, up
and down which white-sailed chips are
always gliding. It Ia that noble stream.
the Delaware. The view is lovely, bu4.
to the New Englandor, not perfect. His
eyes turn involuntarily to the low hofi.
zon where the sky stoops down to meet
the level land, and he yearns, not with
out slight pang of hoane-sickness, for
the irregular, picturesque line of noun.
tain tops, behind which, cat home," the
aun goes down. q
This ia Wilmington, aud Mollie is e..
tablished here es Miss Mary 8. Brown.
assistant teacher In tho minerva Insti.
tute for Young Ladiee." These ave
years have brought many changes to her.
as years are wont 70 do. SO many thines
she never thought possible have entered
into her life. Sorrow and she are no
longer strangers. Two years after Dick
won't West she lost her mother. Mollie
had never realized that her mother could
die. She knew death comes to all, but
she always regarded it as far.off calami-
". She was wholly unprepared for the
time. when the willing feet, the helping
hands, should lie weak and helpless,
waited on by others, at last, for the
darkened room, the goftened footsteps,
the hoping when the heart knows too
well all hope is in vain; tho listening,
with. no power to help, TO the feeble
gasping breath, and the awful silence-
the solemn, rigid whiteness of the dehy
fnce that had never refused to smile On
her befo-e. m
Than there was funeral. People
said Rev. Mr.. Thomas egcelled himself
that It was powerful discourse. Per.
hspa y was. Mol!:e was on!y conscious
OF @ throng of people crowding into the
which was alike Indifferent TO friend Or
stranger; of dreary pornp md parade.
of long flow Of words that did not pend.
tsate her grief-bewildered senses. of the
going out for the last tirne over the 3amil.
iar threshold. Life never looks quito
the same again after such experiences ed
this. 80 =
Then came the unyfonted burden al
household responsibility,7 the trying 10
make The darkened home cheerful for
tatheTai npke. Bnt, as is often tho case
with % couple who have "climbed the
hill together," when one Is taken, tho
other soea follows, and they "uleep to-
gethef &c the foot" At twentY.shres.
Mollie found herself alone in theilSorld..
with very little money ina! world where
one might almost think 10 the one thina
needfhl. Squire Brown wan too easy
and good natured, too willing TO aign ;a
friend's aote, to leave much property.
After soiourning with various relativSs
until tired Of dependence, uhe had OBS
tanned this situation in che minerva IN.
stitnte." She has Known the various ex.
periences expressed by the poet:
What households, though not alien, yet
not mine
l. What bowers Of rest diyine: FL
To what temptations In lone wildernesses 4
what h,nine OF tho heart, what pain and
The bearing OF what eress!" Z,
| This little room in the. f6arth story Of
Minerva Institute" is the truest "boyer
OF rest1 ahe has found. because it 10 her
own. Here che escapes the miseries Of
dependence; hcre, for q little while each
day, ct least, che is her own niistreas. free
to think her own thoughts, to 1.-Two her
own life. These hard years have marked
ono or two faint lines across her forehead
have sunken slightly the rounded con.
TOUR of her oheek, have given ysther a
a sad dr0op tC her mouth, when &C ress.
Ge now And vet ft In an affyacf;vr S.ca
ia face with eaaTantar ia IL. Her express.
ION now 10 not confident, osger, expect.
lsat; It ig peaceful, and yet bright and
tstFong. It ID the face one would like In
their friend, their wife, ka..i iss4tl
4 As ehe sits here, che is.think;nr of n
talk abe and Elmer had, only Last yaca.
ton. Her vacations nro nencras,y epent
lin Chicago, With Elinor.g one s.ssht.
when John, Senior, Nzs safely down e
she store, (for even the best of husbands
may he dispensed with ecuesimes,) and
John, Junior, was snugiy tucked ayyav Ia
his Glib, sitting in that tyyiliphs - cori.
ducave to condolences. thsy had taen dis.
cpureing a variety Of topics, and finally.
raatrim0ny. IN fact, This was q tonic
Pretty sure to come up bet1een Elinor
and aay unmarried friend. She yas 50
happy with her John, chat she carid NOT
rest easy until ell her friende ,1sefe equal.
~ blessed. - / : ai'Ss go
| She had been saying to MoliiessS"I do
not understand you, at all. It is IA sirl
and o siiame for you, of;alllpeople. to bar
l. vhward tf. asn.,y->. H.. y g 4, - -