The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1886-12-01

. 1
4 love o God! Il seems sO-that must flow
. | Far a. thou heest. and wrap Iay soul and thee.
| HencelOrth thy love must be q yearning charm
Drawing me after thee. And 50 iareweil-WI ILLS
The windows were all open, but shaded
, fold after fold with muslin Transparent
as dew drops, and snowy as the drifts o
a summer cloud The floor was spread
with East India mating, and in the cor
ner of a chamber stood a couch shaded
with clouds OF delicate lace and clad il
snow white even 10 the hoor-a grea
easv chair. covered with chaste dimity
stood close by the bed, and further of {
miniature couch, snow white also, save
where the soft rose tints Of an inner cur
tain, light and silken, broke through
the waves of snowy gossamer that flowed
lover it.
Upon the pillow of this pretty couci
lay bouquet of flowers, tied loosely by
an azure-c0lored ribbon, and more beau
tifuI still, a sleeping infant, with one
tiny hand resting, like torn peach
blossom, on its little bosom, and 1t:
sweet lips parted smilingly, as bud un
closes to the warm sunbeam.
There, in its snowy nest, with the fra
grant flowers sending their breath IL
and out through the misty draperies
and half snothered in delicate lace, lay
the beautiful infant; and little way
of, upon the larger couch, reposed an
other being, in the first bud and bloom
of womanly beauty, not asleep, but with
her large eyes wandering tenderly to-
ward the infant, and from that to q bou-
quet of orange blossoms and moss roses
that, feebly clasped in her delicate fin
gers, was yet falling apart and dropping
its blossoms over the cOunterpane.
An air of gentle languor lay upon this
young creature, and there was some
thing more than that affectionate tender
ness with which a mother regards her
young child, in the look that she, from
time to time, cast upon the slumberlng
infant-a shade of sadness, that but Tor
her feeble state, might have taken the
| strength of passionate regret, seemed
ready to break from her eyes IN flood
of tears, whenever they dwelt longer
than usual upon the babe,
But when her grief was ready to
| break forth, she would allow her eyes to
droop toward the flowers, that seemed TO
| have some pleasant association connect
ed with their fragrance, and a sweet
smile-not the less sweet that there was
sadness .in it-would part her lips,
while a faint sigh hoated through them.
All at once the infant began to nestle
in its crib, and opening its large brown
ewes. turned them upon the recumbent
| female. As if her tears lay SO near the
! surface as to require only this motion to
set them flowing, the young mother, as
she encountered the infantile glance,
shuddered family, and large drops gath
cred in her eyes, and fell one by one
over her full but pale cheeks.
81 must not look at it, / must not
learn to love it So she murmGred, turn
ing her head away, and shading her
fearful eyes with one hand. "Ahl why
should l, a mother so young, and with a
| husband like him, always find every
feeling, every impulse shackled as it
springs from my heart? Why was there
no one to shield my youth from the
| blight, that feel, too surely, Will cling
| around me 20 the endT
The infant began to cry, and there
came into the room a colored woman,
tall. and with that superb luxuriance of
| form that so frequently characterizes
the dusky-hued woman of the South.
She approached the crib and took the
child in her arms, hushing it with a sort
of caioling attempt at tenderness, that
seemed to annoy the young mother not
little.
"Give the babe to mel" she said, fee
bly, reaching forth her arms.
"Better not, better not, missus," re-
piled the woman, pressing her full lips
upon the velvet cheek resting on her
bosom-a most unnatural pillow, as the
unhappy mother felt all too keenly.
"Nurse said last night that young missus
must be kept quiet, and the baby not
left to fret her so much"
"Fret mel my child fret me! Give it
to me, | say" cried the young mother,
so passionately that the color broke over
her pale cheek, like the abrupt opening
of q rosebud. at is cruel, it is unkind,
thus to keep a babe from its mothers
bosom. He never ordered it. / know
well enough it is. not his wish that
should be tortured in this manner"
'Take the child to its mother. Why
do you hesitate in obeying your mis-
tress?p cried a firm and manly voice
from the door; and with his lofty step
somewhat subdued, a gentleman entered
the chamber, whose air of authority
awed the negress at once.
He approached the young female, who
had started eagerly up from her pillow,
with every manifestation Of deep ten
derness in his voice and manner.
"Have you been waiting for me, Zuli-
ma p he said, bending down to kiss the
fair forehead of his wife. 81 was kept
longer than usual at the counting-house
this morning"
"OhI / knew that you would be here
soon," replied the young wife, taking his
hand between both hers, and kissing it
with degree Of passionate tenderness
that thrilled through her feeble frame,
| till, in her weak state, excess of feeling
became almost painful.
"Whati because / scattered my path
to your bedside with the flowers you
have been wastingP was the smiling re-
ply.
s.They were welcome and very sweet,
| for they told me that you were soon to
follow said the young wife, gathering
the scattered flowers together with her
hand. sSee, your little daughter has
kept hers in better condition. She is
not old enough TO tear her flowers to
pieces the moment they come within
reachl'
sLike her mother, hal Zulimar' said
! the gentleman, shaking his head, but
smiling fondly all the time. 'sShe must
have more patience and less pride than
her mother, this pretty child-or she
will be-"
Gas unfortunate and as unhappy as
her mother has been,' said the young
wife, her eyes filling with tears.
81 only hope she viii be as lovely and
as innocent, whatever her lot may prove,
and as truly beloved, Zulima, he added,
after q moments pause; and with an
expression of deep feeling, mingled with
q shade of sadness, the proud husband
| gazed upon his wife and child till the
tears clouded his own fine eyes.
For a moment there was silence be
tween the husband and wife. Both
were gazing upon the infant, and both
were occupied with thoughts where pain
and tenderness were almost equally
blended. Pride, stern and lofty pride
tinged the sweet current of his refiec-
tions, and she-impulsive young crea
ture-thought of nothing but her suffer
ings, her passionate love for him, and OF
the beautiful child she was sheltering
upon her bosom with one fairy arm
from which she had impatiently flung
back the loose sleeve of her night-dress
| as If detesting the delicate lawn fol
looming between her and that little
form.
| ssYou will not send her away said
/ the young creature, lifting her eyes te
the face Of her husband, which was be
coming more and more thoughtful eacI
moment. aAhi if you knew how much
love herI'
IT know know, Zulima," said tht
husband, interrupting the beautiful
Ipleader with an accent which, though
not unkind, told how the slightest oppo
sition ehafed his proud nature. It i