The farmer and mechanic. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1877-1885, 1878-03-14

tion. As she lay on hef lnNaiiu
couch. unable to exert herself III any
way. She had ample time Tor
and in those thoughts she iived oN"'
again all her past happy NE. from tht
tine h knelt at her mother knee
and lisped her baby prayers to the
hitter present. How wildly before
her rose that mothers image as sue
Law on her death-bed, blessing her
weeping husband and child. Then
followed the four or five years she had
sDent with her father IN their elegant
home ON the banks of the hudson ere
his second marriage. We're had not
been prepared TO welcome her new
mama and step-sisters, younger than
herself. with any degree OF cCrdlaiitv :
hut for the sake of the father whom she
loved. Mrs. Herbert was kind to the
daughter. so this new arrangement
made very little difference In Neres
life Then came the time, only a snort
wear ago. when she had put schooi
booksawav and come out into the woIlo
the beautiful. courted helress and belle.
There was no laugh o Joyous, no
eve that shone brighter. no heart more
oenerous and warm. With her frank,
merry ways. she was the centre OF
every circle, and the idol OF her fath-
er's heart. Then her mind came nearer
tbe present. and she thought of how.
mid last NAYS blossoms, her heart had
learned it's first tender lesson of love.
She met her old playmate, Willie
Grey. fresh from his European travels,
and. after teasing him for weeks with
her thoughtless, willful ways, had Civ
en- her heart to his keeping, believing
he would be "tender and true But
now she knew that, though he might
have cared for her in a degree, 1t was
her money which had been the chief
attraction that vas gone, and with IL
his love, and with all her woman 5
pride She scorned his tickle. mercenary
heart. and thanked God that the fell
blow which had cost her wealth, home,
friends, father, love-aye, and even
hODe-had not been dealt IN vein since
it had shown her, in his true colors,
the man she had endowed with II
qualities Of a god
YEARLY the weeks wore away, ana
by the close of autumn We're was able
to walk to her fathers grave, In the
village church-yard. AS h knelt by
the quiet, lowly mound, and thought
of the great unselfsh heart lying be-
meath it, and how desOlate her life was
without him, she prayed in her agony
that she might die and gotO HIM but
God does not listen to such prayers.
81 must do something" she said to
her Step-mother, Il cannot live here
in idleness and let you support me /:
besides. if my thoughts are not occu-
pied | believe | shall go mad !" And
so it was arranged that she should
take the place of the governess, whose
term was out. and teach the children.
She entered thankfully upon her du-
ties, since they kept her mind from
dwelling on her sorrow, and took from
her a CALLING of dependence
which she had been made to feel IN
many little ways. Sadly and YEARLY
the winter passed, and spring at last
began to emerge from it's icy shadows.
Possessed of a lively imagination.
We're conceived the idea Of expressing
some of her conceptions upon paper,
and already many Of her articles were
in the hands of eminent editors, as
accepted matter and her name De-
can to be known in the leading papers
of the day.
With the spring a faint tinge of color
came into the wan cheeks, and her
step lost somewhat of its accustomed
ll6tICSSIlSoS. ~ lIC ~ ISi1Soo iisbo
gone forever from her life, and the
merry ring from her voice. Thoughts
of the past were fraught with suffer
ing SO, with a resolute will, she put
them away, determined to live down
the dull pain throbbing at the heart.
Toward the close of May, Mrs. Her
bert's brother returned from Califor-
MIA, loaded with wealth, and offered to
educate his neices, and leave them his
property if their mother would make
her home with him in his elegant
house in New York. This was a
tempting offer, especially as Mrs. Her
bert was growing very weary of her
quiet life in the village, and she
accepted it with joy.
"Of purse you will go with us,
We're, my brother wishes it." But
We're declined, decidedly the children
would no longer need her services,
she said. and she had no claim upon
their uncle. Besides, a return to the
city could only be full of painful asso-
Citations, for her winters had always
been spent there. and she could not
bear to return a mere dependent whore
she had formerly lived, courted and
admired. The children pleaded hard
for her to go. but she was firm, and
Mrs. Herbert. seeing the evident adj
miration with which her bachelor
brother regarded the sad, sweet face.
and dreadlng the consequences that
might result from too close a compan-
ionship, urged her no more.
But what will you do, my dear:
Il DO not know" answered the girl.
YEARLY you know l have promised
to go to Amy for the summer. and bv
the fail | shall get something to do.
Amy begs me to stay with her. but |
cannot accept a home from her any
more than from you any labor is bet
ter than dependence :"
And SO the trunks We're packed. the
good-byes said, and the last link broken
that bound We're to her old. bright life.
As the lonely girl paced the deck OF
the little vessel which was to carry hel
to her friends for the summer, she
tried hard not to think of her desolate
situation every thino was ca cba,roJ