Year: 1876

Scene on Board a Virginia Train Of


The Charleston (West Virginia)
Courier relates that recently on the
morning train from Pittsburg cast
ward there was a lady closely yeiled
in the cars. She was dressed in
the purest white, wore gold brace
let's and evidently belonged to the
higher circlesof society. Her figure
was delicate and exquisitely SYM
metrical and when she OCCASION
ally drew aside her richly embroi-
dered veil the glimpse of her fea-
lures which the beholder obtained
satisfied him Of her extreme lowell
ness. Beside her sat a gentleman
in deep mourning, who watched
over her with unusual solicitude,
and several times when she attempt
ed 10 rise he excited the curiosity of
the passengers by detaining her in
her seat.


Outside the cars all was confu-
sion ; passengers looking to bag
gage, porters running, cabmen
cursing, and all the usual hurry
and bustle attending the departure
of a railroad train. One shrill,
warning whistle from the engine
and we moved slowly away.


At the first motion Of the cars
the lady in white started to her feet
with one heart-piercing scream, and
her bonnet falling off, disclosed the
most lovely features ever contem-
plated. Her raven tresses fell over
her shoulders. Clasping her hands
in prayer she turned her dark eyes
to heaven What agony was in
that look! What beauty, too, what
heavenly beauty, had not so much
of misery been stamped upon it.
Alas! that one glance told a melan-
Choly tale.


Her brother, the gentleman in
black, was unremitting in his eff
forts to seat her. lie led her back
to her seat; but her hair was still
unbound, and her beauty unveiled
The cars ratified on, and the pas
sengers in groups resumed then
conversations. Suddenly a melody
arose; it was the beautiful maniac's
voice; rich, full and inimitable.
Her hands were crossed on her
heaving bosom. and she waved her
body as she sang With touching
pathos-


She is far from the land where her young


hero sleeps,


And lovers are around her signing
But coldly she turns from the grave and


weeps,


For her heart in his grave is lying
She sings tho wild songs of her dear ma.


tive plains,


Every note which be loved aweking-
Ahl little they think, who delight in her


strains,


How the heart Of the minstrel is break


ing2


Her brother was unnamed, aud
wept as only a man can weep. The
air changed and she continued:
Has sorrow thy young heart shaded,


AS clouds DER the morning fleet!
Too fast have those young days faded,


That even in sorrow were sweet
II thus the unkind world wither,


Each feeling that once was dear;
Come, child Of misfortune, come hither,


I'll weep with you, tear for tsar."


She then sung a fragment of a
beautiful hymn


Jesus, lover Of my soul,


Let me to thy bosom fly.


Another attempt to rise up was
prevented, and she threw herself
on her knees beside her brother,
and gave him such a mournful, en-
treating look, with a plaintiye
"Saye me, my brother save your
sisterl" that scarcely passenger
could refrain from weeping. We
say scarcely, for there was one man
twas he man?) who called on the
conductor to "put her out of the
car" He received the open scorn
of the company. His insensibility
to such a scene Of distress almost
de6eS belief; and yet this is in
every particular an "o'er true tale
Should he ever read these lines may
his marble heart be softened by the