Connecticut western news., 1883-10-10
VOL. XIII.

hearted children that congeniality fol which his spirit had longed but had not found, either in his aristocratic home ol his wealthy friends.
 His mother had been one of those spirit. ually organized beings to whom holiness of life and devotion to duty are as necessi- tous as breath, and though spared tc him but seven brief years, she so in- wrought her nature into his that all the I unfortunate circumstances of later years could not eradicate 1.-the angel sung so sweetly in the far depths of his bosom that the syren voices of temptation sounded to him ever like hideous dis cords.
 The proud lady who, ere two years had left their greenness on his mother's s grave, was installed as mistress of her home, gave no affection to the pining boy, while his father, stern, grave, taciturn man, though deep in his heart there welled strong waves of passionate feeling, manifested them only by seeing that his temporal condition was well cared for, and so he grew to manhood, filled with affectionate yearnings, but with none to breathe them upon, and only uttering them upon the low grassy mound where slept the gentle being who had given him life.
 Once indeed his spirit thought it had found its mate. There fitted into the brilliant saloons of fashion 8 radiant young creature, who seemed the incar- nation of a poets dream, and whose spell soon bound the youthful Reuben. But ere many months the charm was broken. She proved but gay coquette, and after toying with many hearts. final ly surrendered to wrinkled age, barter ing herself for gold. Reuben had be- lieved he loved her, but when the dream was so rudely broken, he found his heart was fetterless-he had 1ovedno her, but the creation of his own soul who he had fancied was embodied there. For time indeed he scorned the other sex, but ere long the vision of his own sweet mother came to him in such vivid light, that he felt he stained himself with sin to think even harshly of those to whom she was bound by the ties of sisterhood, and he said within himself, "I will seek her counterpart, and finding it, be happy. 7" So Lord Burleigh-like, he vert about as a travelling artist, and in the wild or beautiful of nature, as chanced the scene, his spirit drank in peace, and the angel in his heart sang dearer and more thrillingly.
 Such was he who, in the little church of Glen, had watched so closely its frail Lily. Her loveliness, ever bewitchingly delicate, was enhanced by the paleness of convalescence, and she seemed to the young man like one of those sainted ones of whom he used to dream when in his boyish sorrow he nestled on the couch where his mothers spirit had de- parted. There was no guile, he felt, in those heavenly eyes, no mocking taunt would ever sing from lips like hers-nay, there was purity of soul visible ill her very mien.
 "Who is she ?" asked he, as he walked home with the inn keeper; "who is that fair young creature who seems the adopted child of the church? She walks before us with the old pastor"
 "She has another name, but we only call her Lily or the Lily of the Glen, a homeless girl now, without relative on earth, and yet she will never want for anything, for, humble as we are, we will ever make room for her by our hearths and in our hearts, for she is an angel whom we cannot entertain without a | blessing !"
 The young man shut himself in his room and musedupon her. In his wild est dreams he had fancied nothing earth ly so ethereal, and he felt that could he but clasp that fragile Lily to his heal it's low murmuring moans would be hushed forever.
 | The sunset flooded the Glen with bril- liancy as he stole forth again, and long | ing for silent communion with the human foweret who had entranced his soul, he turned from the pleasant village stree and followed the banks of little stream
 that went singing along as though eacl
 wave was melody. Whither it led ht
 knew not, but keeping the worn path he
 found himself ere long opposite little
 graveyard, whose monuments had noth
 ing to arrest attention, but whose quie
 beauty entranced one at glance. Reu
 ben leaned with folded hands on tn, white stiae and was soon lost in fresl thought. Memory carried him back t, , the day his mother died, and he say himself again in childish grief, bending half in wonder, half in awe, over tn , open grave, and then kissing whit
 rosebud from neighboring bush an'
 casting it on to the coffin, and then h
 thought of the after visits he had paid i ! whenitwas green and fowery, and remem bered how many times he had wished h could have slept beside her. Tear , streamed down his cheeks as he leane there; those holy tears which come un , bidden to wash the heart of the dus ) that has gathered on it's beauty. Suddenly he started. A low, swee strain fitted by on the evening breeze 3 and to his highly wrought feelings l seemed at first like the angel voice ( : her he mourned. But he soon rallie 9 himself, and listening closely, discerne [ that it came from locust grove in distant corner of the yard, and he fe
 intuitively that it was the night hym t of the Lily sung over the grave of he