St. Landry democrat., 1881-09-17

uOluiug. LII u lew hours my cUluuSl-
asm for blackberry picking had some
what disappeared. l was continually
getting separated from the party. for |
am soon bewi!dered in q thictet. and
the thorns scratched my face and hands
The ripest ones were i'll patches where
no shady trees spread out their friendly
branches to shield me from the burning
sun. So said in my heart, .. | will 60
no more. Oh, that my foolish tongue
had been silent this morning.
Johns smile was very knowing one
the next morning. when | said: Il
think had better stay at home with the
twins to-day He did not object to it,
however. as it would give him chance
to ''go fishing" a chance he coveted.
although the waters furnished nothing
but fish OF small degree.
While the twins were taking their
nap, book in hand | strolled into the
grove at the back OF the house Man
and nature had rendered the spot a
lovely one. Irving Cottage stood in a
little glen on one side of a quiet coun-
try road at the foot OF a hill. On the
other side of the road was an old wooden
mill, long since useless, whose weather
boarded sides, especially on the north,
were covered with moss and mildew
artistiraily laid on by the hand of
nature. Beside the desert mill, Il clear
and swift running brook had at one time
been damned up, but now the dam was
partially broken away, and down it the
waters rushed headlong, causing
musical sounds to fall upon the ear. as
1t came splashing, splasling, down i'll
one place, while in another, where the
water was shallow, the drip, drip,
of the water upon the stony surface
below, caused ut times sounds as of
the tinkling OF the bells of kline in I'M
seen pastures in the q stance A rustic
bridge had been bullt across the brook.
and leaning over its ends were syca
more and chestnut trees. Tall oak
and hickory trees, with their heavy
branches, formed a grove so dense.
that only a few rays of the sun could
find their way through the verdure
above. Birds sang and fitted above,
squirrels and rabbits rustled the dead
leaves upon the ground. Gould
Paradise be more calmly beautiful than
this lovely little glenn | said to my
self, as, seated on log, my head
resting against tree, | oDened my
book. | know not how long had
been reading, for my volume was u life
of Lord NJ -. when found myself SO
charmed, so interested in the memoir
of that wonderful man that | felt to have
only seen him. even at L distance,
would have been pleasure never to be
to f,,1I ~,
had seen him would have been a
qualification.
Just then pleasant voice intercepted
my musing, and an elderly English
lady, whom had met on former visits.
stood before me. This was Il pleasant
surprise at Just this time; 50, with my
natural impulsiveness, | asked her if
she had ever seen Lord Nj, and to
my delight learned that when q young
woman in England, she had heard him
speak at ''Hunslet in the borough OF
Leeds. ''lt was a political speech,
delivered out of doors, and the people
for miles and miles went on foot. on
horseback, and in carriages to hear
him. He was plain I. 3. NJ at
that time, but was well known as an
essayist and poet.
HAS we were starting for America
in 49, said Mrs. Himsworth,
''hower Edinburg ReUjew was received,
hand l was more than pleased to see
hin it one of Ms hessays; is subject
being Madame Observation-Disclosures
Frances Burnev to husband | hex
pected no small pleasure in reading hit
hon shipboard, but the old lady
hesitatcd.
You were too Sick" I suggested.
''Hat first, yes; but we were weeks
hon the hocean.'
Although Mrs. Himsworth had re-
sided o!er thirty-five years in America,
neither time nor association had wholly
eradicated the habit acquired in early
years, that of Withholding the IN
when most needed, to prefix it to some
word whose utterance was not rendered
more musical by the addition Of the
aspirate.
mo steamships in those DAYS, but |
met with great trouble hon shipboard.
You see, wen my 'usband wanted to
come hover to America, hat firstI would
not listen to it, but soon saw as e
were bent on coming, and if l wudna
come with i'm e were like to come
Malone. At first | said 'ope may
die if | ever leave hold England, and
many's the time thought it were la
Judgment sent on me for my wicked
ness wen my trouble come upon me.
1--WE 'ad two little children. Mary
Jane--we had always called Ter Polite
for short three years hold, hand
one of those hold-fashioned children,
more like woman nor a child; the
hother was a baby-a boy. Wen we
were leaving hold England with moth
er, father and sisters behind, | had but
one thought, hand that nov my misery.
1t were like dying to leave hall my rel
atives to come hover to ha strange