Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1877-02-15
MY EDEN.
BY ADDIE F. VAN x.

tains, wrapped to their knees in {
robe OF soft green verdure, at north
and west,and south, and before teal
way and Away, night and morn,
the waves of the Hudson fled, lik.
herd of silver deer, up and down
up and down, before the changing
tides
Ny Eden had tiny atom of 6
home nest. wide-eaved, brown paint
ed, with bill risiag sharply behind
il, where the wild roses blnshed {
rosy cloud, and the grape-vines tang
led themselves at will. That hill
loved from the time when it seemed
patch of summer sky, so thickly
were the violets strewn upon it, until
the samacs, each with its crimson
touch above it's head, dressed them.
selves in their gaudy garments, and
strove TO rival the naples at their
eide and as lounged there, ]
thought, Here we will dream cur
lives away ; we will not forfeit our
Eden
We? Yes, Eden had It's Eve, you
know but this was better off, for il
had two my mother and Kate. We
had been up here but little while
when Kate came TO as, and mothers
head was still bowed with the stroke
that left me fatherless, and it happen
ed that our lights would shine out
very late ofttimes, for ours were 10,
the light hearts that make sound
slam bers How often have thank
ed God for it since!
why, john said mother, as we
sat together one night. L certainly
saw a face at the window
Impossible. You are nervous, lit
tie MOTHER touching the little white
hand caressipgly as | went out to
look.
Crouching under the window, and
almost hidden by the tail phlox
blooming there, was a child of not
more than twelve. | think
What did you want, nay child !?
said |. taking her little cold hands 10
mine, more with view of OBTAINING
her than thought of caressiug, for
was not fond of children in those
days sand don't you know you
shouldn't look in peoples windows in
that way p
Il don't care 7 che said, sullenly, i
wanted to see the lady = the lady
with the silver HAIR. But I'll &C
home I'll not trouble you again.
No, come in > and than as she
struggled to get away, | gathered
her up in my arms and carried her
into the sitting room with out more
ado.
She was an odd-iooking enough
bit of humanity, | thought, as she
stood in her faded calico dress, with
a shawl pinned over her head. Hel
thin little face was dark and sallow,
and looked thinner and smaller from
the mass OF blue black hair that hung
IN elfin locks about it, aud her large
dark eyes would have been hand
some if there had not been such an
unchildish look OF sorrow in .hem
and a nameIess something that sale
their owner had tried the world ant
found it too much for her. Mother
drew the outlandish little figure tC
her side, and uDfastened the awkward
shawl.
Did you want to sac me, dear I
she asked, as she threw it on the ia.
BILE; and where did you come from
at this time of the night? 2
From Breakneck, ma'am.
Not across the river, and alone
Well, you must be my little visitor
tonight; shan't let you go back
again. Why, child, don't you know
it is dangerous2 You might be rur
down by the Albany night boats, anc
th river is so deep just here
She clasped her nandssbefore be-
with little GESTURE that told of rest
while her eyes filled with q quick ap
probation of care to which she wa
unaccustomed and than said, in {
quiet, unchildish way, as if il were
lesson she had just been coming.
Il came from Breakneck, ma'am, tt
see you, and l run away. l saw you
at Coldspring one day, and you lcok
ed so kind and gentle | thought per
haps-' She hesitated little ant
than went on more quickly : Il hav'
lived at Aunt AIMS since father ant
mother died, and / thought perhaps
YOU would let M stay with you, fol
/ bate her, Ihate her / stamping hel
foot passionately. And just here al
her little hedge of dignity brok'
down. and she threw herself at moth
er's feet and sobbed out, % ma'am, i
YOU will, III do anything in th'
world I'll work all day long, only
don't please don't, send me back to
Aunt AIMS 7
Mothers gentle hand, still soft, ant
iewelled, passed back and forth ovel
the tangled hair. How | loved Il
watch it.
Why, child she said. musingly
why don't you like your aunt? IL
wrong to hate any one, you know
sBut say unto you, love your en-
emies, bless them that curse you, d.
good to them that hate you, aut
pray for them that despitefully us'
YOU and persecute you, that ye may
be the children of your father which
is in heaven
Mother had forgotten the child
and was looking through the biaz
of the Clio wing logs upon the hesrtl
to some ether country, and her eyes
had far-awsy look in them thats
could not bear to encounter. IL
seemed 10 speak of q portion 10 tia
aheaveniy country" whittier. 10 thos
days, my footsteps we're not tend
ing: so rose nneasiiy and lit tb
bed lights on the mantle. Her eye
came back sgain, end the child said
in so awed half-whisper -
Il try not TO, ma'am, but--must
60 back tonight 2
No, dear NE will see what vi
can do Tomorrow. We might keeI
I1hy, ,