Connecticut western news., 1883-10-10
THE LILY OF THE GLEN.

In one of the most beautiful of New England's shady dells, far away from the din and dust of the city, musical with the song of brooklet and bird, and fragrant with breathings of trees and flowers, hidden almost out of sight by the old gray mountains, lies the fair lit tie village of Glen. And in one of it's sunniest spots, sheltered by elms of 8 century's growth. messy itself with un- counted years, over-run with luxuriant vines and embosomed in roses, stands the fairy little cottage where dwelt the pride of the village-its fair young Lily .-an orphan from the hour of her birth, but so loved by her aged grandparents that the name had never meaning.
 Beautiful as the flower whose name she bore was the Lily of the Glen, and as holy and shrinking in nature, too, breathing out her sweetness in lonely places, and coveting ever the lonely seat Scarce more was she idolized in the hum- ble home whose life and light and beauty she was, than in every other one of the scattered village; for wherever she went she carried blessing, and from every threshold bore one, too, now from the growing lips of a baby face, and then from the quivering ones of wrinkled age. Pure in heart, not dazzlingly but softly brilliant in intellect, gentle and loving, for eighteen years the maiden had led that happy life which only the good and true can know-a sunny life, scarcely darkened by single cloud-a fowery one, scarcely pricked by single thorn holy one, scarcely touched by a single sin.
 But her heart was saddened then. First one and then the other aged rela- tive grew sick, and for many weeks they lay side by side on the same couch, moaning in feverish dreams. Patiently and tenderly did the young grandchild nurse them, needing their slightest wish. and giving up cheerily the de, mands of her pulse, that she might be ever with them, and striving, with al love's earnestness to win them back from the valley whose shades seemed vailine them. And even in the last fearful hour though her heart was sore and bleeding she calmed herself and sung in sweet though tremulous strains, the hymn the, asked for, that on the breath of musi their souls might be waited into heaven
 But then, when all was over, he strength gave way, and for weeks she Ia, like a frost bitten flower; her cheeks lik snow and her lips voicelss. Yet, thougl invalid kinder and more considerat care. There was none in the whole vii lage that did not render her some SCI : vice, happy to pay back debt of love and sad that it must be paid in such
 way. And when at length she recoy cred, and on the arm of the gray-haire pastor, slowly passed up the aisle of tn little church to the seat that had bee vacant for nearly year, there went u from every heart a thanksgiving to tn Father in Heaven, and when her sweet lute like voice rose and fell in waves ( thrilling melody, as she joined in tn grand old hymn, tears of joy streame fast from many eyes, and when the SCI vice was over, and the little erou passed out of the holy place, every rigI hand was kindly clasped by her, an from every lip there fell blessing.
 But one among them did not gre, her, though his gaze followed her intent from the moment she entered till sl left. It was stranger, tourist, wh charmed by the rural beauty of the gle
 had resolved as the stage left him the
 on Saturday evening, to spend fe days in rambling about in sunny spo and sketching it's picturesque rivers:
 highly-gifted, noble young man, do, cred with a princely fortune, who, ha ing completed his collegiate course, h, nought to do but while away his time
 the most agreeable way. But, no,
 surfeited with the pleasures of fashion
 ble life, be had turned away to seek