The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1879-08-18
MISS ARNOLD.
Another Story Of Love that was True.
- but Didn't Run Smooth.
BY THE AUTHOR OF 1.-TWO OLD MEMS
TALES" ETC.
CHAPTER VII CONTINUED.


In some things the old lady had lit
tie resemblance to Miss Martineau. She
had the same cheerful activity Of mind,
the same readiness of adapting herself to
circumstances, things in a great measure
constitutional. She was, moreover, very
shrewd, sensible woman, and deeply
pious-pious in the most excellent way;
really, vitality, seriously. She came of a
good old puritan stock, where piety had
been cherished from generation to gene
ration. Some Psychologists say, even
that the acquired qualities and habits
descend to the succeeding generation.
1t is possible an aptness for good Or evil
may be, and often is, inherited from
those who have gone before. 1t would
seem to have been so in this case. The
pious father and mother, children of as
pious parents, had left this pious
daughter, and her excellencies had de-
scended in accumulated measure to her
son. This old lady had been sorely
tried; death and poverty had done their
worst; except in as far as the cruel
ravager had spared this one boy-one Of
many children-all followed the delicate
man who had been their father. She had
borne it all. Strong in faith, she had
surrendered her treasures to the Lord of
life, in trust they should be found again
when He maketh up His jewels. Cheer
full as was her temper, life's course had
been too rough with her for her to value
it much, when those lovely promising
buds, but half disclosed, were one after
the other gathered. But she had escaped
that racking agony of the loving, but too
faithless mother, when all the sweets of
nature in it's abundance flew around her,
and they are not there to enjoy.
When SUNS shine bright o'er heavens blue vault
serene,
Birds sing in trees, and sweet flowers deck the
plain,
Weep for thee, who in the cold, cold grave
Sleep and all natures harmony is vain
But when dark clouds and threatening storms
arise,
And doubt and fear my trembling soul invade;
Ny heart one comfort owns, thou art not here;
Safe slumbering, in earth's kind bosom laid.
She was happier far than the author
of these lines.
She looked upwards; she almost saw
those she had lost, the objects of glo-
rious resurrection, already living in the
inetiable presence of the God they had
so faithfully endeavored to serve.
| need not tell you, after this, that
her spirits We're subdued to holy calm
ness and composure.
Her life had been one of the most
active endeavor after usefulness The
good she had managed to do can scarcely
be calculated. Grains of sand they might
be, those boarded minutes, but it was
golden sand; the heap accumulated was
large and precious, at the end of sixty
five years.
What money she had possessed she had
expended courageously in giving pro-
fessional education to her son. Her lit
tie annuity of twelve pounds year was
all she had saved for herself. Upon that
she believed, with her own exertions, she
could manage to exist till her son was
able to support both; but she had been
struck down earlier than she calculated
upon. She had at this time lost the use
of her lower limbs altogether, and was
visited with such trembling in her hands,
that she was obliged to close the task
abruptly, and to sit down dependent
upon her son before she had expected it.
| 1t had been very trying work until he
obtained his present situation, and he
still felt very poor, because he was
resolved every year to lay twenty pounds
or 80 by, that in case anything should
happen to him, his mother might have
some little addition to her means pro
vided. He was rather strangely provi
dent for the case of his own death, Sc
young a man as he was; perhaps he fell
the faltering spring of life within, which
he had inherited from his father.
Three years the mother and son hae
thus lived together, and Fisher was mas
ter of sixty pounds.
He had never allowed himself to cas-
a thought upon marriage, though of {
temper ardently to desire, and rap
turously to enjoy domestic felicity. HI
said to himself he must first provide TO
his mothers independence, and thel
think Of his own happiness. But tn
accident which had brought him anc
Lucy together had produced othe
houghts-thoughts which he had bu
the very day before the nursing so sud
denly closed, communicated to his moth
er, and she had said:
81 think you are quite right, John
Imprudent marriages, are, in most cases
very wrong things-a mere tempting 0
Providence; and, that no blessing fol
} lows such tempting, we know from tn
best authority; but this is most pious
benevolent, and very rational attempt t.
save feilow-creature from the brink c
destruction, aud ! think it would be
want of faith, as well as want of hu
manity, in either of us to hesitate; ] an
very glad she seems such sweet, innc
cent creature, for your sake, my darlin
John; | hope she will bring blessin
into your dwelling, and repay you fo
your goodness to me; / am sorry sh
must come and live with your old mott
er, for young wives don't like that; bu
| promise you will do my very best t
: be as amiable as an old woman can; ant
) moreover, will neither be cross nor dis
appointed if she is not always as'amiabl
as a young lady ought to be. Will tina
! do? Yes, yes; fetch her away from ths
sink of iniquity, and we ii all get alon
somehow or other, never fear"
And SO Lucy Miles, blushing like
, rose, and, as her young and delighte
, husband thought, more beauteous tina
5 an angel of light, was in a few weel
t married to John Fisher, and she wei
e home to the old lady.
Amid the smoke Of cities did you pass
The time Of eary youth and there you learn