The daily gazette. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1874-1883, 1881-05-12

DEPTHS or tall tin canister, and was
rewarded by o few grains of rice. /
was Just on the point of returning to
mamma, when ! espied, far above me
on the topmost shelf, an old-fashioned
china pitcher of exquisite beauty, an
heirloom in the family, having been
the property Of all my grandmothers,
and which / had not seen in a long
time. In q moment my foot was upon
q candle. box; the next step brought
me to the head Of barrel then came
the frst shelf, which also mounted,
and then grasping the kindly offer of a
projecting ledge, stood suspended in
the air, while with my right hand l
brought down the object Of my ascent.
It was formed of the richest Dresden
china, and / verify believed in my
youthful days that all Prussia did not
contain its equal. Often had / heard
its history, and now, as gazed upon
its painted flowers, forgot my air po-
sition, and was lost in day-dream.
Iwas q little child once more, and 1
sat ON my grandmamma's knee, with the
pitcher before me ON the smooth oaken
liable (another relic of the past), while
she told me, In her kind and gentle ac-
cents, how this very pitcher had once
been the property Of q fair aud lovely
lady, many, many years before, longer
than she could remember; and how tnis
lovely Lady Grace--ior such was her
name-had pinned away and died, just
for the love OF q gallant knight, who had
gone to the wars, and had been found
dead on the battlefield; and how this
pitcher had been given to one of our
English ancestors by the dying lady, as a
token of remembrance. / had often
mourned over the sad fate OF the Lady
Grace---fo- her story was favorite
theme In the long winter evenings, and
my kind relative willingly INDUCED me
with its recital; and now,as gazed upon
her beautiful memento, 1t came again
fresh to my memory, although l had not
heard 1t In years. The Lady Grace had
held that very pitcher; the polished
handle, now within my grasp, had been
pressed by her ivory fingers.
was no longer In the dark pantry,
but In the very chamber of the old
castle, where she hsd lived and died.
looked from the deep mullloned win
dow, and the wide park, with its red
deer bounding away beneath the noble
elms and wide.spreading oaks, stretched
before me. turned to the coach. with
it's massive drapery, and there lay the
dying maiden. She gazed upon me
with her soft languid eyes, and L saw
beneath tbs folds of her snowy robes,
the faint beat OF her broken heart. Her
taper had rested upon the dark dsmask,
and the blue veins were visible through
the transparent skin. She spoke to me,
and her tones were low, and sad, ard
wild, like the music OF that mysterious
Tyre whose voice Is only wakened by an
invisible touch. i knelt beside her, and
took the fair hand In mine. II was cold
NJ marble, and as did So
1.-THE eggs" said mammals voice, at
the door; "you will fiud them"
"Wonderful trausitioD! The ancient
chamber, the dying girl, the English
landscape, all vanished in an instant. i
started, made one spring to the ground.
and found myself within the barrel In
stead of beyond 1t, and my feet plant.
cd upon the very eggs had been In
quest Of, and which, with true house,
wife's care had been snugly laid away
IN the most unimaginable place. Nor
was this ail-tho china pitcher, the fami-
~ inheritance, which was to have been
my own, lay shattered in q thousand
pieces, having slipped from my hand as
descended. Poor mamma, with up
lifted hands and uttering most pathetic
lamentations over her lost treasures, sur
veyed tbs scene Of ruin, while 1, over
come with shame and grief, clambered
from my unpleasant position, dripping
with the broken eggs, and wishing most
heartily that had never seen the china
pitcher or heard the unhappy history of
Lady Grace.