The Penn's Grove record., 1886-10-16

az plulCh AAANAAAo Wv"
bered hymn:
"Must I be carried TO the skies
On howery beds of case.
While Others fought to win the prize,
And sailed through bloody seass"
In fact it was the only poetry in
which he ever INDUCED. One look,
however. at the stern, solemn face OF
the good, sincere, earnest, old man
would have convinced any n present
that not with his lips only did he utter
these words, but with all the strength
of his heart.
Deacon Bassett kept the village store
as his father had done before him, but
things were diffe ent now from then.
There was no need for him to measure
out sugar and molasses, as his parent
had done. There were busy clerks to
do it now, for the store had grown
with the village, and with the excep-
ton of the squire there was not a rlcher
man for miles around than Deacon
Bassett. His fortune had been honestly
made, too, for the smallest child could
be safely trusted in huying at his store.
Yet with all, a harder, sterner man
could not be found. With him If a
thing was not right, it was wrong.
There were no halfway measures, as
every man employed In his establish
ment distinctly understood.
Perhaps if his fair, gentle wife had
lived it might have been different. Sac
was the only one who ever understood
his rugged nature. But early one
March morning. when the snow was
melting ON the hills and the birds began
to chirp a little, she laid her tiny girl
in his arms and said, OIL so tenderly,
and in such low, faint tones: "Zadok,
dear, take care of my little blossom.
Keep her for me, unspotted from the
world" She died that night.
"Unspotted from the world" He
never forgot those words. Over and
over he said them TO himself. How
was he to keep his little girl in the
world and yet not of the world?
Everybody thought the deacon would
marry again. That he would marry some
good, sens BILE woman, herhaps, who
would take care of his little motherless
child; and there were some of the good
sisters of his church that would gladly
have consented to console him and at
the same time take charge of his hand
some house opposite the store.
But the deacon himself neverdreamed
of such a thing. How could he think
of another wife when before his eyes
always was that lonely little grave on
the hillside, covered in springtime with
yiolets as blue as her eyesp No one
ever guessed thai beneath that hard,
stern exterior he carried a heart that
was well-nigh broken when the great
clods of earth were thrown on the coffin
of his loved one.
He sem for his sister, Miss Priscilla
Bassett, who certainly carried out his
views IN regard to raising children. She
dearly loved the little Prudence, but
like her brother, she never allowed her
affection to show itself. Strict and
stern had been the religious training
of both the deacon and herself. There
was no compromise with Satan IN re-
gard to either dress or department.
Anything that savored of worldly de
sire or feshy Yanities was stricken out
of their lives.
"Levity in manners leads to laxity In
principles" was a part of her creed.
So she sternly glowed at the bad little
boys who sat on the back benches.
The possibility that there might be
some good ones among them never en-
tered her head. OF course they were
all bad. How could they help it, with
such raising as they had?
Yet; when the fever ragged in the vii
lage, and few were found willing to
enter the infected homes, Miss Priscilla
came to the front. From house to
house she went, with nourishIng food
and medicine, and tenderly bathed
the flushed, burning brows with a cool,
steady hand.
Prudence Bassett grew to woman
hood, pure and sweet like a fair lonely
little harebell, clinging with all its gen.
tie might to the great stony rocks. A
dainty little lady, with eyes as blue and
soft as her dead mothers She never
had a companion except the squire's
young daughter. and site had died
when she vas fifteen. So from that
time Prudence had gone on her way,
lonely and quiet, for the deacon was
very careful Of his daughters friends.
Deacon Bassett had one great desire.
Unless that was gratl6ed, he could not,
he thought, devote his time to any
thing else. Years before he had made
up his mind just how many thousands
were necessary to',make Prudence a
rich woman before he could waste one
moment in pleasure. So all his energies
were directed to that end.
1t came to pass n bright morning
that Zadok Bassett was surprised by a
visit from his cousin, Harriet Went
worth.
"I'm going to take your little girl
home with me, Cousin Zadok," she
said, emphatically. Prudence does
not look very strong, and certainly
neeos a change from the humdrum life
she has been leading"
Humdrum life? Deacon BasSett
started in amaZement. 1t IA the same
life that he had always lived, and his
father had lived before him, and there.
fore 1t was good enough for her.
"She is the age of my Alice" con.
tinued Mrs. Wentworth, ''and / am
sure they will both enjoy the visit"
At first the deacon was strenuously
opposed to the unheard OF proceeding
He thanked his cousin very stihly, but
said he preferred to keep his daughter
at home, and away from the follies Of
city life. But Mrs. Wentworth was
not TO be baked.
LET her come with me. Zadok," she
pleaded. Indeed. it Is for her good.
She grows more like mother every
day."
This last suggestion made him falter
He remembered how her mother,