Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1897-01-14

fAHT i.
Nothing but leayes-the spirit grieves,
Over wasted life.
Sin committed, while conscience slept;
Promises made-but never kent:
Hatred. battle and strife,
Nothing but leaves"
look back tonight through the
narrow aisle of years to that time
in the dim past which has burnt
itself into my memory. The book
10 open before me, and there are
whole sentences that rise, shape
themselves between the lines, and
point out the time with a tired fin
ger. Reader do you wish to know
my history? 1t is weary waste
of years and dreams with tangled
meshes, and briars overgrown.
There are graves too, of blighted
hopes, covered with garlands of
withered flowers. When the great
book is open in Heaven on that last
day, will the tangled web be there
disclosed, or will the prayers and
tears have wiped it out forever !?
God knows, but the one prayer of
my life has been that / may be par
doned for my girlhood's folly.
THE STORY.
It is New Years eve. The old
year is sobbing out its weary pill
grimage. rhe wind is signing q
solemn requiem through the bare
and leafiess trees, while the stars
peep out here and there between
the hurrying, scurrying clouds,
throwing a soft, shimmering light
over the crisp, new fallen snow. I
stand in my room alone, with the
light of the stars upon me, and the
moaning of the midnight wind to
break the deepening solitude.
The old year is dying! dying,
and it seems to me as now look
back upon that night that oil the
goodness and purity of my young
life was dying too : s..sn...s:ss.s..
There is but little to tell of my
past, for to me, this night filed as
it was with my hearts vengeance,
which was to darken so many lives,
seemed but the beginning OF ruin
ed life, so l will only give brief
sketch of my childhood which
found my younger sister Mural
and myself orphans at so young an
age and cast upon the charity of
my mothers only brother. Uncle
Ezra Gordon. l say charity, to
show the reader that we were penni-
less, but never once since the time
we had come to him had he allowed
us to feel our dependence. He had
never married. / often thought
he must have had disappointment
in his life, but he was q rather ret
icent man, and never talked on
those subjects.
Most of his life had been spent
in a foreign country, and when
again he returned to his native
land, he brought with him a we'll.
earned fortune, which really be-
lieve he found his greatest pleasure
in lavishing on his nieces.
What is the use of having money
if you do not spend it? he said
once when Mural, in her gentle
way, protested against the purchase
Of magnificent necklace Of pearls,
which he presented to her on her
sixteenth birthday. Nothing costs
too much that gives my children
pleasure, and he laid his hand car
ressingly on the child's fair head.
Inever quarreled with Uncle Ezra
for spending SO freely his money
on me. l knew he enjoyed it, and
then was fond of beautiful things.
The set of rubies and diamonds he
gave me when I made my debut
gave me the keenest pleasure. Some
how jewels always suited me; they
seemed to challenge my eyes to
equal brilliancy and add a deeper
gloss to my raven locks.
'You should always wear jewels,
my DEAR Uncle Ezra said, draw.
ing me under the full light Of the
chandelier as l stood arrayed fol
my first ball, She looks like Z
grand, beautiful queen, ah, Muri
alp
And then a little hand was laii
in mine, some golden curls brushed
my cheek, She will always be m,
beautiful queen, Uncle Ezra
Her queen! Oh, Mural, hov
your words come back to me to
night, my darling, come back lik'
the whispering of an angel to haun