The Pascagoula democrat-star. (Pascagoula, Miss.) 1878-1920, 1892-03-25

they were happy homes.
Onward We went, over ricketty
country bridges, through fields Of
fresh, green, sprou'ing corn, now
aud then into a deep brook where
the bridge had fallen in. The
sp'ashing Of the waters seemed to
sing Phyllis. The radiant butter.
fly mad pu, on II newer garb. The
hummlng birds were flying from
flower to flower, supping new hon
ey for our Phyllis. The forest Of
magnolia trees was in full bloom
and seemed TO give IA ,lcher per.
tune and nvaIed the hawthorn.
All nature welcomed Phyllis.
| Twas Wondering il she was pret.
ty, and il my faithful aunt would
love me less now she had a little
girl herself
Al last we reached The line of
weeping willows that gave to my
annt's home The name of "The
! Willows" The old carriage lum.
bered up 10 the open hospi,able
doors. The master and servants
received US, and after IA delicious
country supper We were shown
Phyllis. On a white pillow she
lay, her head was covered with
brown curl:, her eyes looked Won
deringly. She was sweet, she was
dainty, she was beautiful. We
then visited our dear aunt, how
lovely she looked, but so changed,
her eyes were filed with tears,
she WAS restless, with a strange
light in her eyes. She was dis.
trait and seemed weary cf every.
thing, even Phyllis. She scarcely
noticed US, hardly seemed to recoy.
nize us. We turned from the
room sad aud troubled anl on our
way home were greatly troubled,
wondering what could have so
clouded her bright young life.
4
Here comes another scene in
my GOALS. Old Mingo again, and
every nook and corner OF the big
old house was filled with summer
guests. Ii was August, ard all
those sweet, dainty blossoms in
the orchard have turned INTO
peaches, apples, plums and pears.
The bees are drowsy AMI hum
around The ripe figs; the cool well
is more inviting. The corn has
changed its color. In the trough
by the well luxurious melons are
cooling. So crowded is the place
with visitors that tie children are
obliged to sleep upon maj tresses
thrown upon The floor OF the par.
lor. The night had been one of
pouring rain 4; we had been luiled
asleep by The patlering ON The
windows. When l awoke day
had dawned, and the light in The
room was clear enough Tor me to
distinguish any object. saw be.
lore me the form Of a woman with
"A child in her arms; she seemed
to say, Come! Come!' and lean
ed over my pale, and tried to pu,
her babeln my arms, then vanish
ed. | was SO overcome with fear
that | sunk into insensibllity. The
next day came the awful lidings
from The Willows that our lovely |
aunt had gone hopelessly mad, and |
that We must come al once for
Phyllis! |
The little love was brought to
MS. Our aunt WAS confined and
cared for at The Willows. Phyllis
grew TO be Years old. She was
a strange little creature. She was
ever with The butterflies, or talk.
ing with The birds. She would
make great wrealhs of flowers and
twine them about herself. She
lived in The Kingdom oI Dreams
and Shadows, and when she would |
grow tired and we would miss her
she could always be found asleep
under The white rose bush near
the gate. She was not one OF us.
She lived IN far.away world of
her own and would smile and talk
10 unseen persons. Those won.
drous velvely brown eyes looked
upon US, bu, knew and leIt us moi.
but all tlie world, human ard di.
vine, loved Phyllis, our spirit
child.
y
Now my Goals seem 10 burn
brighter, fiercer. The great civil
war is upon 'hc lair south. OLD
MlngO has felt The shock. The
cyclone Of adversity swept us far
and wide; friends perished, homes,
property lost, love dead and shat.
tered but still at The Willows re-.
that wrecked mind and
her child. Fifteen years pass, aud
atler many wanderings return TO
Old Mmeo. All, indeed, those
lines come back to me:
''All arc parted now and fie.l,
Sons arc married, some aro dead.o
The house stands there, half .al-
len 10 the ground. The orchard
has been invaded by cattle and the
Irees are no more. The we'll has
fallen in and he locust trees have
been blown away by storms. In
|he carriagc.house | picked up an
Did iron strap, a bit of decayed
|eather, all that was left OF that
grand old family carriage, and The
driver Sandy, he, too, had passed
,way. Mingo was a desola,,on
born Of desolalion. Far over lhe
hills stood the lowers Of tha new.