Year: 1862

1t was raw, gusty, November morning,
with clouds of a dull, blush gray folded
heavily over the sky, and the earth wear
ing that sombre, dismal aspect, which told
as plainly as words could have done, that
her glory had departed that the old age
of another year had fallen upon her and
that nothing remained to her now but a
struggling through winds and storms into
December, ard then a shroud.


An old woman and a young girl entered
the cars which were plunging on to New
York. They were neatly but very plainly
dressed, and looking about them with that
halEshy, half-curious manner which indi-
Gated at once that they were not accus-
toned to travel; moreover, there was a
slightly foreign air about them, and if you
were student Of national pbysiognomy,
you would at once have settled it in your
mind that they were English people.


The old woman was very pale an9 deli
cate, evidently in i'll health, and there was
something touching in the silvery braids
of hair that were combed so smoothly over
her wrinkled forehead, and in the mild,
faded, halfsorrowful eyes, that told you at
once her passage through life had not been
a smooth one


But the younger woman, or girl-oh it
would have done your heart good to look
on her! There was such healthful bloom
on her cheeks, there was so much hope and
brightness in her blue eyes, so much inno-
cence and sweetness in the Quiet smile
which her lips fell into SO naturally. that,
gazing on her, good heart could hardly
help praying that the young English girl
might find happy life in the new land to
which she had come.


A few sentences must tell the history of
these people. The young girl was betroth-
ed to the old woman's only son. He had
been in America for more than year, and
as soon as the industrious young carpenter
had earned money sufficient to see his way
clear to provide them humble but COM
Portable home, he had written over the
seas:


MOTHER AND MARY Sell off all the
old furniture and come straight to me-"


And they had come-those two tender,
loving trusting women, the old and tie
young, for Mary was an orphan, and there
were no strong ties to bind her to the faith
erland.


The steamer had reached Boston three
days before. They had written to Charles,
informing him of their arrival, and expect
ing he would meet them But he did not
and so, fearing the letter had been delay
ed, they started for New York


The cars were not filed this morning,
for the travelling season was over The
young girl took up paper which some
passenger had thrown down on the seat
before her.


She ran her eyes half carelessly over
the columns, Suddenly they paused
moment, dark terror seemed to creep in
to their brightness, her face settled down
into white. deathly rigidness, cry, not
loud, or sharp, but deep, oh, so very deep,
with a broken hearts agony, wayered
over her lips. and she sank back, not IN
conscious, but stunned paralyzed with
the awful darkness those three newspaper
lines had brought down upon her life.


What is it? What is it Mary?" ca
gerly cried out the old woman, as the girl
turned her dumb, stony face towards her.
She did not speak, she only pointed to the
paper The old woman grasped it eager
ly with her shaking hands. In mo-
ment she too had read the lines which told
how young carpenter, Charles Davis,
had fallen accidentally from the roof of
high building in New York, and was taken
up dead dead ! dead


It is mercy that that the mind cannot
at once grasp q sudden evil, that great