Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1885-02-19

an Aohest living, Dy naru laDor, IN pref
erence to being dependent upon others.
Now we must remember that she had
been reared in home Of wealth and
luxury, in warm country, where all the
surroundings were calculated to ener-
vate both body and mind; she had just
buried her only sister and friend; but
above all, the strange and unnatural
treatment Of her father was enough to
drive her to despair. Now many women
in like circumstances would have COM
mitted suicide, or sunk into a life of
shame and misery. Let those who are
tried and tempted take encouragement
from the the heroine of this true story,
remembering that honest labor, next to
faith in God, is the best antidote for all
sorrow.
Frances was industrious and trusty as
an operative, and had the respect of
those who knew her; she was economi-
cal in the use Of money, and m anaged to
lay up most Of her earnings against sick
ness or any other calamity.
When she had been at the factory
awhile she made the acquaintance of
young man, which acquaintance proved
a great misfortune to her. John M
c. was one of those worthless char
acters found in all classes of society; he
had a handsome person, and pleasing
manners, but was tickle minded and un-
principled. He took a fancy to the
pretty South American girl, and paid his
addresses to her. After short acquaint-
ance they were married; this was the
most unwise step taken during the years
of her trial. Her husband diserted her
in less than a year, without acquainting
her or his employers of his departure.
No one knew where he went, nor was he
heard of there again.
His young wife was greatly shocked
and grieved; this was the most bitter
trial yet. she had loved and trusted
him as her only earthly friend; no won
der that she felt crushed and broken
hearted; but the promise Of God came to
her aid; her brave and hopeful spirit
rallied, and she took up the burden Of
life again.
About this time she became an inmate
OF my grandfather's family, and it is
from this circumstance that became ac-
quainted with her history. Here she
remained for months, and here her son
was born. The support of the child was
an additional burden, but it was a bur
den that love made hight. Her affecti on
for the child was a tie to earth which
otherwise had but little attraction.
She went to the factory again, and
worked patiently for years. The hours
for labor were longer then than now,
and wages much smaller. In the sum
mer time, when the long days work was
over, she might have been seen going to
my grandfather's leading her little boy
By. the the hand. hand There was an oak tree on
the hillside half way to the house; here
she would stop and rest, and while the
child played she would look away to the
south and ask herself if she would ever
see her childhood's home again.
There is no portrait of this young wo-
man except what tradition has given US.
remember Of asking my mothers aunt
how Frances De Harte looked. fShe
was rather short Of stature, said she,
''and had dark complexion, but her
eyes-I shall never forget how they
looked; they were very dark, and had
deep, and far off look" She seemed
much affected during thunder storm,
usually shedding tears. When asked if
she felt afraid, she replied: mo, but
the storm makes me think of home, for
we have them every day in Demerara. !
Here little John M c. grew up
tall and handsome boy; be had the fine
form, blue eyes and fair complexion Of
his unworthy father. but the pensiye
smile reminded the beholder Of his
mother and her sorrows.
After several years had passed Frances
determined to visit Demerara; she had
long desired to go. She had now a lit
tie sum of money, the fruit of her toll
and economy. She accordingly pre-
pared to visit her native country, and
that father whose strange conduct had
made her an exile from her childhood's
home.
The voyage to Demerara was long and
tempestuous, and it seemed an age to
her before the vessel came in sight Of
home. With what feelings must she
have watched the approaching shore
There was the familiar trees, the cocoa
palms, lifting their stately heads along
the coast. Yes, it was home, but would
it be home to her.
It would be interesting to know the
particulars of the meeting between this
father and daughter; it must have been
something like the meeting Of Jacob and
his son Joseph; like them OF old, De
Harte and his child had been separated
by the villainy Of man
That infamous Captain b had told
De Harte that his daughters were dead,
after first obtaining large sums Of money,
which he claimed to have spent for
them. The father Of course believed
him. and, like Jacob Of old ,he mourned
for his children as dead.
Great was the grief and indignation of
De Harte when he learned what cruel
imposition had been practiced upon him
ond lso loved o,,na A. He 1c,sf-,g1 . ! 4 -