Year: 1869

THE patter of the rain on the roo


L tonight carries me back to day
in the far past.


Weary with uncongenial toll, and bit
ter against the conditions of my life,
closed my door with sullen satisfaction
and listened almost gratefully to the
driving rain which promised TO shield
me for time against the intrusion o
brighter faces and brighter hearts than
mine.


lit no light, but sat in the sombre fire
light pondering the old, ever new riddle
of existence-the questionable blessing
of life-until grew weary of my own.


recalled all its longings unsatisied
its capabilities dwarfed its hopos-not
deferred" merely, but blighted. went
the way of all, morbid, misguided souls,
nursing and magnifying my discomfort,
until it rose TO the height of ingratitude
and rebellion against the Author of life,


cannot tell how long sat there, UNI
conscious of my surroundings, going
over the well remembered story of my
life.


In looking back to its very beginning
recalled pityingly, the image of lone
ly, sensitive, thoughtful child, living
among those who gave her little love or
care, and growing up with no guardian
ship except that of Gods good angels.


Farther on saw myself in that dam
gefous transition State, the debatable
ground between childhood and woman
hood, where wise influences are so nc
cessary to the formation Of a true char
acter,


But was alone, ignorant and weak,
without person or principal to guide
me, abandoned to the direction of my
own natural traits. My only reliance
was an unconscious one, in the self adj
justing power, which Providence be-
slows upon every human creature.


And thus 1 lived innocent = as the
world interprets nnocence-negatively
good because not tempted within or
souls who "do Gods will and know it
not"


The years which passed over me
brought little change for good or i'll, un-
less they may be charged with confirm
ing the apathy which an uneventful life
had engendered within me. The torpor
that was stealing over me worse, as I re-
member now, than the misery of after
years.


The awakening came, however, in tho
shock of death and desertion.


There came day when not one of
those whom had called friends remain
ed to protect or assist me.


Helpless and ignorant as 1 was, the
struggle against the world was long and
bitter.


had none of the spirit which "makes
drudgery divine," but weak, luxuri-
GUS nature, which, though strengthened
inevitably by rough usage, grew harsh
and unlovable. My faith in all that is
good and beauti full was obscured, and 1
fell into state of skepticism concerning
everything except the existence of uni
versal and unavoidable evil In every hu-
man nature.


Yet let me not be unjust to myself
HLrsh and irritable and sad as was 1
had grim pleasure in remembering
that had not always returned evil for
evil to fate, and usually gave the world
its due.


thought, rs I watched the fire burn
low, that I could have forgiven all, the
neglect, the unfriendliness, the hard
toll, the disreputable poverty that had
borne.


Even the condescension that savored
of contempt might be thrown back upon
those who now thought it well to notice
me; but this last disappointment was
more than 1 could bear.


had been but poor cleaner in the
harvest of happiness, following the rich
reapers afar off, and gathering A" moro
tares than wheat" But among my
sheaves found one treasure, moro Low.
ed and valued because there was but
one.


And now have been robbed, 1 who
was already so poor.


In the world claimed but one friend
and for n time he had none but me. But
fortune loved him too, and graced him
with all her favors, and learned that
i'll the intoxication of fame and powerhe
gave no thought to the friend who fond
ly watched his earecr, and patiently
waited his coming, in her humble little
home.


My friend, my love, had forgotten mel
they even said some one else was in my
place.


tried to think of him no longer, but
to turn my thoughts to the dead, barren |