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.,"aaim Ofc-N1o 10 G" iS"lt .". P: "HOW BEAUTIFUL ARE THE FEET OF THEM THAT BRING GLAD TIDINGS OF GOOD THINGS I" Trms.--our Domm Per Annuam, in Alvmo. VOLUME I. NEW ORLEANS, SUNDAY MORNING, JANUARY 3, 1869. NUMBER 48. .-m MOrNING STAR AhD CATmDU.TO IcS .um, NEW ORLEANS, SUNDAY, JANUARY 3, tse. The tenderness-and natural feeling, as well as poetic sentiment, embodied in the following lines, commend themselves to every heart. We shall be pleased to hear frequently from the fair authoress. For the Moriting Star and Catholic Messenger] Anniversary of Our Daby's Death. Memories of a Mother's Heart. I am thinking of thee, baby, And my terasare falling fast Of the time I first beheld thee, Of the time I saw thee last; Of the many, many hours When thy little nestling head Lay upon my loving bosom, Till they took thee frets t-.deas. lam thinking of thee, baby ! OneI lay oe weak and pale, That the very lie.blood's gushings In my heart had seemed to fall; When they broeught my new-born treasure, And I looked on thee and smiled, Thinking life most sweet and precious For thy sake, my child. I am thinking of thee, baby, When thy life had numbered days, And each coming day had added To thy beauty and thy grace. Waking, sleeping, I can see thee. Restless, eager in thy play Birdlike, moving and un~jring, Through the live-long day. I am thinking of thee, baby Ifow. when eve was drawing near, And the day's last rosy lingerings In the west would disappear. How thy bright eyes would grow misty, As It sympathy with earth, Till the snowy lids would covbr All their radiance, all thy mirth. I am thinking of thee, baby oh! my bursting heart will break, As it all comes up before me. All its grieving for thy sake! When those eyeswould, pleading, seek me, Asking for relief from pain; P'lending-asking of thy mother Pleading-asking-all in vain. I am thinking of thee, baby They had robed thee all in white They had laid thee down most gently, Covered o'er so very ligtli Coldly, colding were thy fingers, Folded on thy little breast No more lifted to thy mother From that painless rest. I am thinking of thee, baby, As my Bible says thou art Clasped in tender love and kindness To thy Saviour' heart. Oh! I could not bear it, darling, Were it not taught to me there Such as thou the gentle Shepherd Makes HIis choicest care. I am thinking of thee, baby Life to me is not so dear All my hope and all my object Is to meet thee there. Pitying Saviour! when the hour Of my death shall come, Send my blessed angel baby To escort me home. Platquemine, La. L D. TWO BOCKS FaRO THE CHRIITWAS FILRE BY CAVIARE. (Concluded.] Some minutes must have elapsed before I awoke to consciousness. When I did I felt very cold, and very confused, and forsome time rnmble to realize the full extent of what had occurred. Was it all a hideous dream ? Yes; there was the chamber, still filled with the white Mroonlight; there was the accursed portfolio. Who could that nmtn be f Luey had no brother; and I was intimately acquainted with the en tire circle of her relatives. What rendered it necessary that he should hide like a thief un der an honest roof f What devil hadprompted Iinm to come there and sow bitterness between 1ie anld her, who was dearer to me than even life lint, Lucy ! how had I merited this out r:ge-Low came it that she should strive to win my heart, and cast it away as a thing not worth the keeping f I heard a bell-leard my Lame called; arid collecting all my strength and resolution, stalked into the house, up into the drawing-room, where Lucy was sitting with a hypocritical air of iunocpnce at the pia no; where Fid with his future wife nestled pleasantly in a corner; where Major Whitley and Mr. Davis were discussing coffee and poli tics. Striving to smile, I stole to a corner of the room, and mastered by the sense of my own misery, sat down far from every one. Lucy was singing. Her voice was brilliant with its ac eustomed buoyancy; her nimble fingers chased the keys with their usual rapidity; her very air was instinct with a sense of happiness. Listen : " Up and down the world may go, The stars die out. sns cease to shins ; But a lowly cot and a passionate heart. Sweet sage, are mine, and enough for mine. There's music in his lightest tone, HLs breath is like the lighted clove. Give others power, nd thrones anberowns, Bnt give tome content sad love. La! Is! is! content and love." "Parkson," said Mr. Davis, as Lucy ended and with a shake of luxuriant curls, turned Kate, " go down on your knees and "The prisoner is entitled to a'copy of the in dietment. Am I not, sir?" " And you shall have it, my boy," he replied. " How dare you absent yourself all this time without permission t" "Oh! I beg to offer the amplest apology. The truth is, I took the liberty of breathing a cigar on the lawn." "Wrong-against all regulationes," observed the Major. " The truth is," Lucy said, " Mr. Parkson is learning grievous habits-becoming, indeed, a coniarmed truant." She said this with so much playfulness, and looked at me so reproachfully, that I gave her the credit of being one of the most consnmate diplomatists I had ever met. " Hie's not right this time," said the Major; " I demand a court-martial." " And I would suggest," cried Fid, " that Miss Davis be namied President." " Voted unanimously," cried the Major. " Miss President, I charge the prisoner with de sertion from his post." "And what is the prisoner's defense ?" asked Lucy. I gnve her a keen, cold look. "His only de fense," I replied, is-" silence." " Well," said Lucy,, with a mock- heroic air, " considering the extreme youth and general good conduct of the accused, the conit ..itll be lenient, and only condemn him to a line of-a The decision was graciously, received, and went to the piano. " Comic or seutiniental, Miss Whitley, which do you prefer 1" " It is Miss Davis's privilege to choose, I be lieve, Mr. Parkso,;." "Not this time," I said, with an affectation of gaiety. ".Pray choose. I never differ with a lady on a point of taste." I saw Lucy start from her chair, and walkto the mantel-piece. "Oh, thank you. Well, let it besentimental." I touched the piano. "Stop, stop! my young friend," excraimed the Major. " Give us the argument of the song first; Pope always does so. What is it about 7" I turned round. Lucy was leaning thought full" on the umantel-piece, her face aroundfrom to say, a very common argument. A kmght loves a lady, and she pretends to return his affection. lie discovers that she is false; and that, in his absence, she encourages the address es of a rival, to whom she conveys letters by stealth." I saw Lucy's bosom heave quickly. " One night he discovers her secreting a letter addressed to his rival in a rent-roll-queer, isn't it -anid, on returning to the banquet where the ladies bards, and knights are assem bled, he takes a parl and sings this lay." " What a capital dea," said Mr. Davis. " I hope the lady didn't die." "I hope not," I replied; " but the affair is only a small fragment from an every-day his tory. Here it is" " The glory of the summer time deesys, And broken moons around our planet range; Leaf, tree, and brook, and even love are. types Of one, slow-paced eternity of change. A little speck of canker in the flower, A little rim of darkness on the moon From narrow things, the fruit of fate or chance, The myriad changes of the earth are hews. Do I reproach her if she shores the fate 0 sat sweet natural things that breathe or blow? If from the common to the rare she turn, ie I reproach her as inconstant 1 Po! Mine is a love that wakes to sacrifice, And moves obedient unto her desires. If she would uworehip one, abjuring me, I'd cast my heart upon his altar fres. 'icae go with her and blossom at her feet - J'Pea.e go with her whom I love none the less. Dumb all reproach s but. now and evermore, The benedtiction of forgetfulntess." " Rather heavy,-that," observedl Major Whit ley,-~v-le I had enlded. " Why are young peo pie so fontl of raisimig ghosts-even at Christ mas 1' " You forget, papa," said Kate, " that Mr. I Parkaon was requested to sing a sentimental song, and that before complying he explained its purport at your desire." " Right, my dear," replied the Major, with an abashed air and a penitent 'tone. "Right always. Come and box my ears, Kate." " Wasn't the knight very forgivingt" asked Mr. Davis. "Now, if I cared for a lady, I couldn't find it in me to let her off so easily. For instance, I should challenge my rival to the combat, unhorse him, and cut off his nose as a trophy." " The age of chivalry is gone," said Fid, "and God be with it," he added; " its cant and fu sion would not hold water in our days." "Right, sir," observed the Major; "and yet, when we were stationed in Ceylon, and had nothing better to do, we revived it a bit. We had duels over disputed cockatoos and camp kettles. Some were wounded-some killed in those little affairs of honor ; but anything rath er than be blase." I seized on the first pretext, and descended to the Green-room. A light was burning on the table at which Lucy sat, writing. She lifted up her head as I entered, and tears were visible , r es. I was about to retire wgheaPhe re qunested me to remain. . " Three hours ago, Mr. Parkson," she said, rsi , "I-implored of you not to judge me hru . I as muooh as told you that I was bolindto follow circumstances, and asked your good opinion to help me. You have broken your promise. When my heart is filled with anxiety for the fate of one to whose welfare I cannot be insensible, you came to strike me down with severe words and mortifying accu sations. I know what you have ne, I-k w all." " Lucy," I said, " will you pardon nme for say ing that there are limits to the blindest credu lity ? Perhaps I had no right to think I had an exclusive claim to your affections. The proof is plain that I had not. And yet, fool as I anm, I have enough generosity to resign all my hopes, to bless my rival, and accept the de feat." I sat down ; I leant my head on the back of the chair, and gazed abstractedly into the lire. " le is no rival, I assure you," she said. " Then who is he-what is lie Why does he hide like a criminal, afraid of the light f Who is he ?" "That," she replied, in a tone of trembling inhecision, " I cannot tell." " You will int tell ?" "I implore you not to ask me-now." " Miss Davis," I said, with a calmness which a tonished myself, " we will say good-by.e this night. Under the circumstances, it would be ltiair to embarrass you and humiliate myself." " No, no," she exclaimed, " we shall, indee.d, not. Trust me a day longer--one day, Rich ard." " To-morrow morning I shall leave for L-. May his love make you happier than mine ever could." " And if," shepleaded, " the suspicions which you entertain shall be explained, and yoell shall know you have wronged me, where will the atonement be ?" - " In the consciousness," I replied, "that I have acted from no morbidfeeling of jealousy that I have used mly senses, and been convinced that my conduct has been just and honorable." " And yet you have been deceived." " )i ).r.e.il'l diu navis. Is it deception that I accuse a lady of carrying on a secret corre spondence with a gentleman, and she acknow ledges it f On your honor as a woman, did you not kiss a note, and hide it in his portfoilio an hour ago f" '" That is true-true." " Well, let' the quarrel end here. God for give you." "' Hark !" cried Lucy, springing from her seat and fixing a look of terror on the windows. " My God I! he is 16st." The tramp of horses' feet, and the dull crash of grounded arms on the graveled approach to the house startled me. " Gwad all the appwoaches to pwevent es cape," cried a shrill, half feminine voice, in a commanding tone, outside. I heard the tread of men filing into the avenues that skirted the lawn, and the commotion which-the circum stance caused amongst- our friends overhead. Peering out througls'a slit in the shutters, I could distinctly see the black uniforms and bright bayonets of the police, drawn up in a double line facing the house. "Lucy !" cried Mr. pavis, who had rushed down stairs, and stood agitated and pale in the hall ; "can anything be done to prevent a cap ture I" The crash of a musket-but against the door resounded through the house. " They will break in in a moment, Lucy; is there no hope ?" She knitted her hands across her forehead, and for a moment was lost in retlection. "Papa," she said, with startliqig snddenness, " he must swing from the nursery windows into the walunut. Uo, go-oh! save him." A second crash of musket-buts at the door made our hearts leap with anxiety. Rushing up Siaiirs we found Miss Whitley, Fid, the Major, and the-pale young man collected in a whisper ing group on the drawing-room landing. " Up," cried Lucy, taking the latter's hand; " unfasten the nursery window and leap into the walnut." " God bless you," he cried, and kissing her hands, darted up stairs. "Ellen," said Lucy to a terrified domestic, " take all the books and rapers you will find in the Blue room, and hide them in the air-bed. Be sure to fill it." The servant disappeared, and returned in a few minutes loaded with papers, amongst which I recognized the accur sed portfolio. Shortly afterwards the hall door was throw open, and the police entered. There was a great clatter of feet in the hall, and a loud banging of doors, in the intervals of which the hum of coarse voices, modified by an occa sional shrieking order, reached us. In less than a minute, a delicate knock was given at the drawing-room door, and a man of some thirty summers, of slender person and affected air, entered. Placing a glass to his left eye, he swept the room, when, seeing Mr. Davis, he ex. claimed. in a mincing, snobbish style of de livery : "Beg pawdon. Ve'y disagweeable, Mr. Davis, but my dooty, sir--"- "I can anticipate all your apologies, Mr. Inspector," said Mr. Davis. "Pray discharge your duty." "My dooty, sir, is of a pecoolarly painful nature. But A man must not shrblk, as you know, on that account." Our host bowed. "I am indtwucted that you harbwa' a rebel here," he continued, directing a look, meant to be facetious, at the ladies. hereplied, with the least tinge of irony, "never harboured a man who was ashamed to show his fate to honest people." SVe'y pwobable," observed the inspector; "'spose I am to unde'stand that you have no rebel in your house." . " You have my answer, sir," said our host. " Doubting that, have the goodness to satisfy yourself." " Because my inst wuetions are," the inspector went on, "that-- who has taken up arms against the gwuvment of our gwa:ciousqueen, has been hiding several days in Southbank Cottage." "Act upon your instructions, sir." sanib Mr. Davis. " You shall have every facility if you wish to search." " It's pwainlul-very itwainful," solloqunised the Inspector, as he til, ed his dress boots with his dress sword. " Ilave the nurn folnnd any twaces "' he a:sked, turningi to a constable who stood, nmnket in hand, on the door mat. "Noone, sir." "Poked all the beds, fired u"i all the chinmeys. tapped all the walls-have they ?" "Yes, sir," replied the umian, with an ineffectual attempt to suppress a laugh. "Sergeant Watson pinked anl air hled with his bayonet, and you should hear it squeak. My eye!" " Ah. Then dran off and repo't in the morning." With these words the inspector placed his sword under his narm, bowed separate-, ly to each of us, and stalked out of the rooe.. The men, who Ihad tumbled ledowni stairs frCtm all parts of the house, quickly followel him; and, in less time than it takes to tell-it, peace and quiet was restored to Sonthbazrk. "I breathe freely again," said" Lucy. "Mr. -has escaped. There ii no one in the walnut." / " Major Whitley," said our host, " I may tell you, as an honorable jrtuan, that a brave young felitgiftuedalhjs lis -ears, the husband of a charming and Accomplished woman-a man whose only crime is that he has been too faith ful to his unhappy country, has been nmy guest for the last two days." " Goud bless him," exelaimed the Major. " God bless him." "Does the circumstance compromise Major Whitley f" asked Mr. Davis, ith some anxiety. " Kate." cried the j , " box Mr. Davis's ears." We all ied. "I hope bsnay escape thepatrols," said Fid. " And his papers," cried Lucy. " Oh, papa, I fear he has no money." " I have taken care of that dear," said Mr. Davis. " I kimdw he was proud ; but I con trived to force ths acceptance of fifty pounds on him this morning. His papers will be safe inyour custody, love." "Heaven prosper al brave men," cried the Major, enthusiastically. "Whether they forge, or weave, or fight, or write, Heaven prosper them." " And a double blessing," exclaimed Lucy, with an inspired light in her eyes, " crown the men who are not ashamed to forge, and weave, and fight, and write for Ireland." "' Bravo !" cried the Major, striking the table. " That's the stulf that makes revolutions- bravo !" and he struck the table again. " Papa " exclaimed Kate, " I declare you have broken a sugar bowl." "Then bo. my cars, darling," said the Major, thrusting his noble head into his daulghter's lap. Did Kate box his ears f No, she kissed him tenderly and reverently. Fid ituniediately gave her his arm, and led her and the Major out on the verandah. Lucy--touched the bell. " Oh ! I have such a wicked secret to tell you, papa," she said, knitting her hands on the old gentleman's shoulder, and looking at him ap pealingly. - " Pray, don't go Mr. Parkson. Our friends share our confidences." " A secret, dear 1" " Yes,. papa. I have b~in so naughty, so imprudent, you willnever forgive. Ellen fetch that portfolio." " I think Lucy is getting n a Christmas mystery for our edification, Mr.Parkson," said. Mr. Davis. " Indeed she is not. Now you will judge and Mr. Parkson will plead for me. Poor Mr. . You know " " Yee. I hope he is safe by this time." "Well, papa, a hundred little things, which only a woman sees, made me think he had no money, and I pitied him from my heart. This morning you gave me a ten-pound note as a Christmas-box. I enclosed that note in a lette to Mr.-, begging of him to acsept froa one who wished him well. I placed it in i letter and- and- ," Lucy hesitated. "Well, what did you do with the letter " "I kissed it." * "Was that allT" asked Mr. Davis. "Oh, pap, that was a great deal. But I kissed it only for the sake of dear Ireland, and then hid it in his portfolio." " You darling," said Mr. Davis, passionately, as he pressed the noble girl to his bosom, " yes darling" " And, papa, and pray, look, Mr. Parksen, there is the portfolio, and here ia the note. Read it, I beseech you. the bank-note, and read as follows: "DEAn Mn.-- WilI you forgive the fkee dom I know 1 am guilty of in begging your acceptance of the enclosed ? Even shouldc you not keep it for yourself, do so for the sýe of others who have incurred the displeasure of government, "and have no means to escape it. With this go-wherever it goes-the beet wishes of LucY DAVIs." I heard the lItter read, inr a sort of half, dreamy stupor, through whichthe recollections of my reproaches and suspicions flashed with painful force. I was penitent and humble. Brave, generous, devoted little woman, nobly hand slie suflerced, nobly had she triumphed t-' Overwhelmed with shame, I turned my eyds away, oly to encounter hers, deep, limeI Ous, and ftrgiving. We were alone. A ligtouch on cmy shouldecr, a low voice-in my ecr: " Dear Richard, you are blame '. Hadyou been less provoked I could sce ly think that you-you cared for ime." " Lucy," I said, and th ir niimo thickened in my throat, " you ar) all goodness, you are all greafness, all ycnerosity. I-0 God pity me ! am unwortlh. to know you longer." " No, no, she sobbed; "the: trial was. bitter -it was 4ntel ; let it strengthen while it humblestis. Who is it that has not had some thin . to regret-something to atone for t We a /need forgiveness." -'" I know." I said, " how you must despise me-how the insulting words I uttered must have stung and hurt you. Let my forgiveness he your silence-my penance your forget fulness." "No," she whispered, Were it a hundred times worse I could forgive you.; forget you I could not. Dear Richard," and she laid head upon my shoulder-" can you love d speak of forgetTulness " " Dearest,did I not love yo uld never have suffered this terri ebasement. With you have been a sted all the plans, the hopes, the s ions which have grown up within ince I shook off the wishes of a boy a sd-med the caresof manhood. If I have iimbitionesxlchss, iAndependence, whatever the world respects and applauds, it was for you, that you might share them. For many years I have been building up a home, than youmight sanctify it. To part from you would indeed be misery ; and yet I deserve it." " Look st me," she whispered. I raised my head-I gazed into her forgiving eyes. All resolutions, all dreams of parting dissolved in their pure light. Dear Lucy there was no parting. Whom God has united by such tender sympathies though one should err, let no one separate. Place thy dear hand in mine, and trust in me." " Dear, darling Richard !" " Only think of it " cried the Major, bounding into the room, and drawing in Mr. Davis by the hand. "Up comes the young rogue, sir, and asks me for Kate-to nay face. And up comes Kate, sir, with a look which threatened that she would box lay ears if I refused. What could I do but strike colors and surrender?" " Well," said Mr.. Davis, rubbiug his hands and smiling, " I supRlse you did the best for tin' young cullprits.'" ere Fid; looking very his arm, flushed and diffident. " SMr. Davis," I said, taking Lucy's hand, " I am afraid there are more culprits than our friends, present. Lookon us, sir, andbe merci fil." " y J.lJove, Major, this is too much of a good thing'saiatr s!st. " Why will no one marry me r' (Continued on Eighth Page. _~~~~~_~~~~~ _~_~ _. s-11IE