Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1896-12-23


E7M/E on to the next town.
~ 7 - Tho sun went down
" e. just as We assembled
the hill beyond the town, but left
such piles of golden glory behind him
that / scarce regretted his going,
until the twilight was fairly upon me.
There grew upon all things tinge
of solemnity which affected my nerves.
and wished myself back to the little
inn again, for was awed by the in
creasing beauty OF the evening. it
made me sad. / never feel gay by
moonlight. 1t seems to wear too
solemn beauty for light words to be
spoken beneath its radiance.
Before the very entrance OF 7the
town / stopped. For the last ten
minutes ! had fancied that { heard q
noise close to my horses heels. that,
had heard it in the woods-tbrough
which hal passed, would have driven
me nearly mad with terror. The noise
was like the pattering of small feet,
yet scarcely like any animals. l
grew bolder and looked around. Far
back upon my horses track. | cav o
little white figure, its shape fairly
defined by the broad stream OF moon
light that flowed directly across the
path where it stood. I fancied that 1
could see its arms thrown up. hes
itated. I tried to reason against my
superstitious fears, and said to myself: (:
s'Eustace Amnesty, are you q man of
full grown strength and stature-and
do you fear this wee, shadowy thing
that pulsues you no longer. but
stands as If lmploring you to return?"
And turned Napoleon's head and
went buck. In the middle Of the road
steod child, its little arms and feet
bare and glittering like snow in the
moonlight. ! spoke to it, and the
rich, soft tones that foated to my car
dispelled all my previous ideas of a
spirit voice.
"Who are you and where are you
going? How came you here at this
time of night?" were tho questions l
rained upon the little creature, ms l
threw myself from my horse and
alighted down beside it.
"I am q poor, motherless little girl,
and am going anywhere, from cruel
people," was her response.
Good heavens! thought ], are there
wretohes in the worl:l wicked enough
to harm this little innocent being? /
asked no more questions, for she was
shiyering with the night air, and ,she
had evidently hurried away from the
scene of her dist.FFrss With nothing but
night'GSi6t6es upon her shrinking little
fame.
took her up and placed her upon
Napoleon's back, covering her from
head to foot with q large plaid scarf,
which I had not felt cold enough to
put on; mounted behind and drew her
little form close, shielding her with
my arms, in which she nestled as if
with sense Of deep security.
Half an hour after, I was seated be-
side blazing fire, at my friend John
Wakefela's tea table, and still nesting
close to my arms was the child had
rescued, now rejoicing in fullsuit OF
little Caroline's. John happened to
know the ruHian into whose hands she
had fallen, and was prepared to give
even greater credence to the child's
story than myself.
A systematic course OF hardship and
exposure, and brutal punishment in
hicted for each inability to bear it,
seemed to have been her bitter lot
until, this night, goaded into unutter-
able madness and terror, after cruel
beating, she had risen from her straw
bed upon the garret floor, and crept
softly down stairs, escaping easily
through IN open window and running
off, she knew not whittier. She was
AFRAID to appeal to any one near, les.
she might be taken back; so she had
run on in the wildness Of her despaia.
We found that she had actually come
eight miles thus thinly clad. She had
walked beside my horse, not expect
ing to be taken up, but merely because
it seemed good, as she expressed it. to
be Lear anything alive; and when l
spurred him on, she said she thought
that she was dying; such pain went
through her heart.
Her name was Olive Rosseter. Her
father and mother died during an epi-
demic at the South, and she was
brought to New England by servant
of the family, they two being all that
survived. She wept bitterly when she
spoke OF this person, who Geemed 10
have been all that the kindest
mother could have been to her. She
brought the child home to ner friends,
but they wero poor, and Hannah
sewed for their living until she grew
sick, and renamed sick for long
time-probably she died OF consumr'
tioD.
Then man and his wife wanted her,
and they moved away from the town
where the child might have found bet.
ter friends among Hannah's poor re.
lations. Somehow she had forgotten
the name of the town. So many places
were in her mind that she could not
distinguish events which had passed in
each; SO we had no means Of knowing
except by trusting to the innocent
face. That was too truthful to dis.
trust. Passing over variety of cir
cumstances which she related with q
modest propriety that charmed us all,
must tell you how gladly the little
creature found refuge with my mother
at our family mansion in Thornfeld.
/ had inst left college, and was pre-.
pairing to study medicine as profes.
sion. I was glad that, in tho brief
years in which must leave my
mother, ] could leave my little Olive
to be companion to her.
But when at length I became the
medical adviser Of oil Thornfeld, iu
consequence of the resignation of DR..
Hammond's practice, Olive was the
happiest creature alive.
Che prac nou fiftoeD oDd davaloYoipn