The Republican journal., 1880-12-02
Asenath Burns.

Asenath Burns.
Most people of Asenath Burns acQuain-
tance would wonder at the idea Of calling
her a heroine. She looks with her pale,
plain face and gray dress rs if all the
glow and warmth and sparkle of her life
had settled into dead ashes; Yet her his
tory has been most ordinary and tranquil
nothing has ever happened to her, So
those tell us who have always known her.
She was born on the hill where She still
lives, in the small house but a stones
throw from the larger one; the hill is long
and steep. and there are no other dwell
ngS within half a mile. Fifty wears AGO
only the small house stood there. A rude
school house occupied the site of the
academy at the foot of the hill; opposite
was a store, and a little further on a
blackspiths shop, This was the nucleus
around which has formed the village of
Akers, and there was no other within
fifteen miles Down the hill to the school
house AScnath Gilmore, a grave, thought
tul child Of ten or thereabUuts, with the
same look upon her face that she has
now time has not changed, only deepen
cd its expression walked each day. Her
father and mother were hard working,
practical people, who had emigrated from
a rocky farm in New Hampshire to this
hill-top in Pennsylvania some years pre-
viously, and oht.was one Of seven chill
lren.
Every one who has taken the trouble
to climb Gilmore Hill know that the view
from the summit is delightful. In the dis
tance lies blue hills, some wooded, others
smooth and cultivated. and both to the
north and south You know village mes
ties in theil embrace, from the spires that
stand out like warning be&cons against
their misty sides: nearer are patches ol
Woodland, waving meadows. fields of
grain, and green pasture lands: in and
out Il Silver creek winds its sparkling
way, and white tarmhouses and grazing
cattle dot the scene on every side, while
Akcrs clasps the hillside as if TO worship
or lmplore protection.
Fifty years ago the spires were want
ing, the woods stood thicker, and the
houses We're fewer, vet it was still most
lovely: but no one on Gilmore Hill
thought much about it except little .Ase-
ndth the rest merely wondered what She
could see in it all, and laughed at her en-
thusiasm over a beautiful sunset or the
sunset hues in an Autumn leaf, and call
ed her moonstruck when she looked so
long and earnestly at the sky on the win
ter nights, wondering how far away the
stars must be
AS She grew TO womanhood there were
She found no sympathy, and gradual
ly was formed the habit OF repression
which hencetorth should walk beside her
like a shadow. She was the best scholar
in the district school, and had read every
book for miles around; but it was only as
4 drop Of water to her soul, that thirstcd
for intellectual fountains, painted to see,
to know, to he something in the great
world OF whose mighty din she could
catch but the tantest echoes. Had she
been one OF her brothers she would prob
ably have tied her worldly goods in a
handkerchief, slung it across her shoulder,
and started down the hill.
Had she been borne fifty wears later
She would probably have dritted or drudg-
ed into some seminary, perhaps worked
her way through college, perhaps studied
a profession, perhaps shone as a star in
some literary circle. But she was fifteen
miles from even a village, she had no
money, she had no one to advise her;
her father and mother loved their chill
dren with singleness of heart; but their
idea Of
"A perfect woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort and command
vas one who was "smalt for business, j"
bad q good disposition, and who-got
married.
Geniuses can paint pictures with cats
hair brushes, write books with bits of
coal, and sail around the world in wash
tubs. Asenath was not a genius, so she
spun and Wove, and cooked boiled din
ncrs, went to apple-cuts and cuttings
occasionally, and in odd minutes read and
thought and dreamed She was not yerv
attractive to the young people whom she
knew. They all liked Asenath, but she
seemed, only in different way, as much
out OF the range Of their sympathies and
interests as their own mothers. 1t was
due in a large measure to her superiority ;
but this she did not know and the fact
was something Of q grief to her. and she
aScrlbed It's cause to some personal de
feet. She had one sister, Hetty, four
years younger than herself, sprightly
and exceedingly pretty child, whom she
loved and cared for as though fourteen
Years ms cad Of four lay between chem.
The summer she was eighteen she first
taught the school at the foot of the hill
1t might perhaps be a stepping stone to
something higher, she thought, but it was
an arrangement which left very little
leisure; for Hetty, like many another,
held the opinion that as long as she was
50 ornamental it did not matter 50 much
about being useful, and the family, half
concurring, made little opposition to her
'poicy,' so Asenath had plenty Of home
tasks both night and morning.
In the autumn, after she had received
her wages, she coaXed one OF her broth
ers to take her to Rushleigh, where there
was considerable book store, at which
place she left most of her earnings. Her
father grumbled that she had better in
vested them in a COW, and Hetty, knit
ting her pretty forehead, said it would
have bought silk dress for each Of them,
and it was 'just abominable." But Ase-
nath read while her knitting needles flew
during the long winter evenings, and was
content.
She had taught school for three sum
mers, with much the same experiences; !;
when the fourth season came she found
herself training under the banners Of a
new unusual school commissioner, a young
man of marked ability and much enthu
siasm. The spring examination was I'M
usually severe, but she bore it so credit
ably that at its close she was warmly
commended by her chief. He was of free
and engaging manners, and before she
knew it she was talking with ease and
animation. He was pleased and sur
prlsed at her intelligence, and showed it
in his face; for a really well-infOrmed