The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1877-09-01
SHADOWS.

Pope tells us that "the noblest study of
mankind is man." and l believe Pope, with
an addition. | have always been convinced
that the study of mankind, when supple
mented by the study of womankind, is the
legitimate occupation of gifted souls like
my own, and consequently | have shaped
my life upon this conviction.
To be sure, | have not had large oppor-
tunltles for prosecuting my studies; yet
when was true genius ever fettered by the
narrowness of its surroundings Although
l was compelled to pass the first forty years
OF my life in one street, in one house in
that street, yet t!atter myself that made
the most of my limited field of observation
III every way, and that what | did not know
about the men and women and children
yes, and even the cats and dogs-of the
neighborhood was not worth knowing
Last year, however, circumstances I'M
connected with my present story made it
necessary for me to change my residence;
and all the Inconvenience Of removal were
overbalanced by the prospect of new sub
jects for study, and wider opportunities of
knowledge.
By the 1st of May was comfortably set
tied in my new home, and my small house
hold Consisting of two servants and my
self was growing accustomed to the new
surroundings.
OF course my opposite neighbors attracted
my first regards, and kept me almost con,
stantly at the window. The two houses
directly across the street were so entirely
different. One was a well built, spacious,
elegant mansion, with ample drapery of
lace and damask at every window, with an
imposing colored waiter and staff of other
servants, where grocers' and butchers carts
delivered daily their well filled hampers,
where well-dressed guests came and went
continually, where lights shOne brilliantly
every evening, and where every thing ind-
Gated the possession of ample means. The
other house was small, mean looking, too
narrow for its height, and apparently over
crowded, if one might judge from the
swarm of children it held. No curtains at
those windows, no visitors to speak of, and
only one servant, who brought home the
slender purchases in dilapidated basket,
and who certainly looked overworked.-
Evidently the Barretts were as poor as the
Browns were wealthy.
y few more days satisfied me as to the
occupants of these houses. Mrs. Brown
was widow, with an only son, to whom
she was quite devoted, and who was GER
tainly an estimable young man. Mrs. Bar
rett was also a widow, with an aged father
and eight children, of whom the oldest was
girl of twenty, uncommonly pretty, who
assisted her mother by teaching. A brother,
two years younger, was clerk; and Mrs.
Barrett sometimes did fine sewing by way
of eking out their scanty resources.
These details satisfactorily gathered,
began to turn my attention in other direc
tons, when mysterious circumstance
made it impossible for me to think of any
thing else than the Browns and Barretts.
1t happened in this wise: l was sitting
by my parlor window after dark, with no
lights in the room-as | am fond of doing
because the dimness is favorable to medita-
tion-when | CHANGED to see young Mr..
Brown come out of his own house and
ascend the Barretts' steps.
One of the children admitted him, and
he went into the parlor, where Immediately
a light appeared. Some one drew down
the shades, but they were very thin, and
could see the shadows of the inmates SO
! clearly that there was no mistaking them
as they were thrown upon the linen.
There sat Mrs. Barrett on one side of the
centre table, sewing diligently, and oppo-
site her, with their chairs close together
and their heads almost touching, sat Lucy
This discovery-for | felt it was nothing
less-amaZed and excited me beyond ex
preston. Here was evidently love affair.
and how angry Mrs. Brown would be if she
knew it. To be sure, the diligent use of
my opera glass enabled me to see some
books on the table, from which the young
couple pretended to be reading, but that
amounted to nothing. Poetry most likely .;
and was not poetry always the natural
language of love making?
Well, my sympathy with Mrs. Brown
kept me on the watch for nearly two hours,
and during all that time Mrs. Barrett sat
quietly sewing, and apparently unconscious
OF the way in which those two heads came
together over the book before them
But at last Mr.. Brown rose to 90. and
then the mother seemed to wake up, for
she went with him to the door, instead of
letting her daughter go, as quite expected
she would. But the moment his back was
turned, what does that girl do? Drops her
head down on her folded arms on the table,
and seems to be having good cry, as if
she couldn't bear to part with him even
then. Presently her mother returned to
the room, and stood by, stroking the girls
hair as if she was consoling her. Then
the light was extinguished, and l suppose