The home journal., March 17, 1859, Image 1

About The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?

Image provided by: University of Tennessee

                
m
" W
tlJjj
Volume III.
ountitl
HI.ATTJilt.
"rie44 Prt' rbllrry nwiiy,
W AilMir Train where'er he Irud (tic way.'
AO LINTS I'OU THE JOUKXAL.
W, M. l'i:lTINHII,L&.CO Mow York.
JOHN P. 1IEFNKK WinchoKtor.
T J. CUMA1IN0S J'ullaliomii.
JOHN fl. RHODES Slieilivvillo-
C. A. HUNT .Sale,,,.
h. I. GtLDERSf.EEVK Favettcville.
A. M. TEN WON Nashville.
Hfigr Subscriptions for a shorter time
ill an one year must bo paid in advance.
S5" Hereafter no club subscriptions
t Teas than the rogulnr price ($2) will
bo received. However, when n club of
five subscribers is sent ua, wo will allow
on extra copy gratis to the gotler-up of
the club.
jrS2T'Single copies sold nt 10 cunts.
When crcilit for the paper ispiv
en to the end of lho year three dollars
Will be invariably charged.
Clubbing. We will supply either
Ilarpor's Magazine, or Grahum's, or Go
doy's and the Home Journal, one year, for
four dollars. Arthur's Homo Magazine,
or Peterson's, and the Home Journal, one
year, for 3 25.
NOTICE.
Subscribers receiving their papers with
o red cross mnrk on them will understand
it to mean that unless they pay up their
dues to us their paper will be discontin
ued. We have about 75 names that will
undoubtedly be erased unless this cross
mark is heeded. Paper alone costs about
$11 por week, cash, and we are umtblo
and unwilling to submit to this drain up
on ouf pocket unless we are sure that our
submisson bo appreciated.
Postmasters throughout the country will
do us a favor, as well as be doing their
duly, to inform us when a subscriber re
fuses his paper, or when the paper lies
dead at their office.
Some writer says marriage is like
eating an onion you shed tears and
at again.
A lady being told that the world
was shortly coming to nn end, ex
claimed '0, what shall I do for snuff 'f'
ONLY A TEACHER.
How many a noble, pure-minded
and true-hearted girl, from choice,
as well as necessity, have left, the
comforts of an affluent home, with its
thousand sweet associations, through
a warm devotion to the most useful of
all professions accessible to woman,
a profession which has for its special
object and aim, the elevation and re
finement of her sex, to meet in a
strange place and among st rangers
only the cold, prying look of curiosity,
and to hear the whivpered words from
one to another, ''She is only a teach
er!" It is true, the most sacred and
responsible) of all duties is her's-the
developement of immortal minds.
But what of that? the door of fash
ionable society must be slammed in
her tace, lor sue is -oniy u mac-uci,
and must not expect to be admitted
within the charmed circle. She may
be eminently qualified to mould the
plastic mind of a dear daughter,
capable of imparting even her own
gentle manners and queenly graces to
a dear sister, but with the parent this
shall profit her noth ng, for she is
"only a teacher."
She may be possessed of wit, beau
iy, intelligence, but even these shall
not relieve her from the odium which
a false and hollow-hearted circle
would heap upon her, for alas! sho is
"only a teacher." The dashing belle,
with a heart as unnatural as her
false curls, will turn up her nose as
she passes and simper 'only a teacher;'
the brainless dandy, the joint-work of
the hatter, tailor, and boot-maker,
even while expressing his admiration
by his ru 1c and insolent gaze, will
append to this note of admiration his
pity, that she is "only a teacher."
Sordid papas and fortune-hunting
mammas will guard the self-impor--tant,
lymphatic hope of tho family,"
,by .whispering in his car, "sho is only
p. teacher." Dut, thank heaven, there
Are many without that self-styled,
ashionable circle, composed of hoi-Jow-Uarted
bells, brainless dandies,
sordid papas, fortune-hunting mam
mas, and self-important "hopes of the
iamilv." Yes. there is a world of
( .
generous spirits outside of this ex
clusive circle, full of noble generosity,
with intellect and exalted merit,
ready to pay its tribute to the worthy
wherever they are found. Wit, wis
dom, and beauty command the fealty
of these loyal hearts, even when "only
the teacher" is the embodiment. They
bare the discrimination to see, und
jbe feelings to appreciate the noble
spirit which impels the gifted teacher,
instead of tho ilattering, gay butterfly
of an hour, amid the allurements and
dissipations of the ball of fashion, to
go forth in the world and leave her
impress upon the tablet of the immor
tal mind. Ah! who is it that is to
fashion the future lives of our little
sisters and daughters? "Only the
teacher." Who is to impress the
opening minds of tho future genera
She "'gfow
13V W.J.
tion? Who is to endouvor, not only
by example, but by precept, to sow
the seeds of virtue, honesty, and truth
in tho minds of tho gay. young, and
thoughtless, while perhaps their fashionable-
mammas aro spending their
time at some gay dinner or evening
party, theatre, or somo other place
of amusement? "Only the teacher."
Who is debarred from the select cir
cle, whoso presence is looked upon as
an intrusion, and if by chance, she
happens to be present on one of these
occasions, sho is made to feel that sho
is with, but not one of them, while
sho only waits to steal unobserved
to somo quiet corner, some seerel
nook, and there, pour out the tears
that swell up from her heart of hearts?
for its the tniinoso toofudely touched,
folds up its leaves, so if you approach
a sensativo nature in a rough and
heartless manner it closes tho avenue
to its infections and shrinks tremb
lingly from your contact.
Stranger teachers wo often meet
from the North, the South, the Hast,
and the West, who perhaps, like come
of you, reader, of the elite, the bon ton,
and the aristocracy, have once rev
eled in all the comforts and luxuries
that wealth can afford, until by some
freak of fortune adversity came and
compelled them to go forth in the
worldmany of them far away from
the loved ones at home ami for what
purpose? to teach your children; to
instruct and guide them up tho rug
ged steps of knowledge, without even
mi encouraging word, friendly call, a
pas-ing interest in your hearts and
homes, or a look of kindness and
sympathy to cheer them in their toils.
Aii! no! says one for "i-lie is only a
teacher," und cannot be admitted into
our circle. She is agreeable and
looks well enough, but teachers must
be. made to feel their position and
keep their place. The streams of
small pleasures (ill the lake of happi
ness; the kind word, the soft and
gentle tone, even the friendly glance
of the eye, may sweep with tremb
ling felicity tho chords of many a
sorrowing stranger's heart, and you,
kind readers and patrons of tho elite,
the hou-toa, &e., would feed all the
happier for having done a uood action,
for benevolent impulses enact many
a scene of beautiful wonder amid
plaudits of angels; an I it is a duty
that we owe to those less fortunate
than ourselves, not merely to sympa
thize with them, but to let our sym
pathy lead to acts of charity and
kindness.
Some good writer has said, that a
virtuous person struggling with mis
fortunes and rising above them, is an
object on which the Gods themselves
look down with dehghl, .and also, that
wuiiuvui i;u luuim juinij i.i iiwii.
nature, nor humility in tho unworthy
....,! ....f I..I....I I. ..II.. 1.1 .1 ,1.1 1 11
mind. Of all trees we ob-ervc that
God has chosen the vine a low plant
that creeps upon the wall; of all beasts
the soft, patient lamb; of all birds tho
mild and gentle dove.
When God appeared to Moses, it
was not in a lofty cedar, nor the
spreading palm, but a bush a hum
ble, slender, abject bush. As if he
would by these selections, check the
conceited arrogance of man. Noth
ing produce! h love like humility;
nothing hate like pride. And we
feel gratified I hat there aro still many
kind, noble, and true hearts ready and
willing to extend the. hand of sympa
thy and encouragement, who are
above all such vanities and frivoliies,
and who are not ashamed to be seen
in any circle, conversing and even
associating with "O.ilv a teacher."
Why arc mankind like cows?
cause they have calves.
Be-
A writer on swearing, says, "An
ath from a woman's lips is unnatural
and incredible. I would as soon ex
pect a bullet from a rosebud.
In Professor Mitchell's last lecture
on astronomy ho explained the astro
nomical inquiries in the hook of Job,
and concluded by saying that he had
been amazed as he studied God's word
to see how accurately its language
accorded in every partiular with the
later revelations of science.
Within the last fifty yoars steam
power and labor-saving machinery
have wrought a mighty revolution in
industry, nnd rendered almost super
fluous manual labor in the great de
partment of mechanical industry. In
tho'Ilritish Islands the work done by
machine power is computed by Lord
Brougham to be equal to tho labor
of eight hundred millions of men.
A miser grows rich by seeming poor;
the extravagant man grows poor by
seeming rich.
Ifrirtue is its own reward, there
will be persons who will Lave little
enough,
W.LNC.L-n:ST.K"n, TKNN"., MAR
Wrltton Mr Ilia Wliicticiter Homo Journal,
STANZAS TO
DV HELEN TIIUESDKLL.
I d'i not ask a single pledge,
From thuii a single vow
I'd only lo)k upon thy face
As I nm looking now.
.
Ign.oupon thy lofty brow
Where gniiius sits ensbrinol
And read the truth of all lluu'st said,
The purpose of thy mind.
I'd scorn to hold jheo by a chain
That thou migliM wish to break,
Nor will 1 in ihis pulling hour,
One word or prouiiso tnko
Nor shall my woman's woakncsi prove
Itself in words or tears
But still the siinio thou wilt bo to mo
Through dim and disUnit years.
Such love as mine, when once aroused
It never more can sleep,
But ever hovering round thy shrine,
A tireless watch shall keep.
But should tho future prove that hope
Has circled me about
With dreams rou loud, one word of thine
Would quickly blot them out.
My wouuin's pride would aid my heart
To break the feiuTuI spell
And bidding back cjcIi ruggling tear,
I'd fondly say lure well.
MARKING I'OU MOMY.
'Annie Maurie !" The lady looked
up, she started, her eyes tilled with a
sudden light of joy, that died as rap
idly as it came, and left them sadly
mournful. Sins half arose from her
seat, and gathered up the waving
folds of her rich satin dress.
"J)d not go I crave an audience;"
fi ! :i ! m i n .r li , ml u-m til t -I ii'i I II nn. I
ly on the snowy arm of the lady.
That touch thrilled through her frame
she trembled, then sank, pule and
silent, on the crimson couch. The
gentleman seated himself beside her;
he ga.cd earnestly upon the lovely
cheek, the trembling form, and there
gal splendor with which it was at
tired. "Your diamonds dazzle me,
Annie." She looked imploringly into
his face, but spake not. "So you are
married; how long have you been a
huppy bride?'' Happy! did he know
that he was mocking her? She turn
ed her eyes away from him, and said
sailly, " six months."
"Six mouths! why you have scarce
ly had time yet to look at your bridal
gifls," and the genl lemaii look up the
elaborately jeweled fan that lay on
the lap of the lady. "And yi.ur bus-
band, tell me a!l about him: he is
. . .i
soiiie, or you could
I feel you do; rich
II ,. ,. .r,,;,.;, liim iw ;
I know he is, or you
coul l not lux inate in saiiu an
nd ilia-1
nionds. 1 cannot forbear com
it ula-
I
ting you oh your brilliant match ,,and ;
" J '
I wish you all the happiness it can
L.ssil.lv bestow." Tnero was it
i 1,;. !........ t:. ,r,.-l..m ,.,- iniii.
h()t ilt0 tu)
Annie Maurie- they fell not,!
"
but lay glittering oti the lashes. The
gentleman continued, "adieu ii )W to
our long walks an 1 linger tales; our
morning readings an I our eveiiin;
songs; henceforth, your time, your
thoughts, your actions, yoursell, lie
long to another; but, in the mi 1st of
all your splendor and happiness, will
l 11
you not gi
,'IVU a lilOU-lll, lO llie MSl
.i i.. ... .i i
that mist with its haimv hours!" An -
nie Mauric's red lip quivered, still she
spake not. The gentleman continued.
and his voice and words were full of
pathos, " over that past you shed a
-lorious light, but my future vou have
darkened with shadows interminable.'
Slowly fell the burning tears from the
lady's eyes upon the rich satin of hrr
dress, but she blirred not, spake no'.
At length, moved by a passionate im
pulse, she threw her white arms upon
tho marble table beside her, and, lay
ing her head upon them, sobbed con
vulsive, in all the abandonment of
despairing sorrow. Her golden curls
swent over her face and covered it
a
from sight. The gentleman looked on
silently, but not unmoved; he longed
to soothe the wild storm of grief that
he himself hail called up, but pride
and wounded love kept him sib-nt.
It was a just retribution, too, that she
should suffer; however wild the tem
pest might sweep through her heart,
it could never march with such deso
lating fury as it had through his.
Had not the iron heel of sorrow tramp
led on the young flowers of his life,
and crushed all their sweetness out?
What now remained? Alas ! alas !
The b ill, with all its glitter M joy,
its melody and light, its fun and folly,
was progressing without; within was
the deep gloom of the heart, sobs and
anguish. Borne on the nir melodious
strains reached the young couple; the
merry dancers were "chasing the
glowing hours with Hying feet," and
joyous bursts of merriment echoed
around. But they noted not these
sounds, alive only to their own misery
and gloom. Poor Annie Maurio I in
marrying for money, she sowed the
seeds of sorrow, nnd was now reap
reaping tho bitter harvest, despair.
At length sho stilled he r sobs, and
looking up, laid mournfully
young, or lie coin. I nut snare in iniij1""1"""' - ,
ardor of your youthful feelings; hand- j w '' t!lilt Charles Lawrence turn- I
'0, why did you come hero to
mock me? You know that I am
wretched."
"You are a wife, Annie," was the
cold reply.
"Yes," sho said bitterly, "a wife,
and God pity mo."
"You made your own fate, Annie,
nay, tho world says you nought it; you
gladly bartered yourself for gold; you
would not listen to the voice of true
lovn that dwelt in your heart, you
trampled on your holiest infections,
and
"I am miserable," she said, looking
up at him sadly. "0, the bitterness
of being the wife of one you despise,"'
she ceased suddenly, the light muslin
that draped the arched doorway was
moved aside, and a gentleman entered.
"Come, rfnnie," ho said, "the car
riage awaits you."
"My husband," she murmured in a
low voice. Charles Lawrence bowed
nnd smiled, lie danced at Annie
Maurie, she was busily engaged in
clasping and unclasping her diamond !
bracelet. She arose hastily and stood i
beside of her husband. What a pie- I
le.li'.niwl,;,,,. l.ir I 'n,.,l
one figure plain to excess, bearing all
the marks of npprr.ac.hiiig nge, awk
ward, unsightly; the other radiant as
the sunlight with youthful beauty;
graceful its the fawn, charming in the
iovousness of early girlhood, llevol
w j .L, I
I
t i" IT
picture! liusliand and
i ii .1 .....I .. . .....
W leri! iv.K l ie live lilt III I U S sa-
cred that union where the sympathy
that renders it endurable where the
congeniality of a.:e, of tas'.cs, of pur
suits Where found the music of
that young heart an echo? Not in the
old man's surely. 'Type of a worldly
marriage, there they HtooJ; youth link
ed to age with golden yet galling
fetters.
In the. DiHscldnrph gallery there is
a painting bv llililebrant of Othello
and lli'sdemona. The painter has
represented Othello as a negro, blind
ns ebony, and repulsive in the extreme.
I'pon this Kthiopiaii gazes the refined
and lovely Desdcmonn, her eyes filled
with the light of admiring love. As
n work of art this painting has been
pronounced exquisite, we nevertheless
turn away from it with feelings of
i immitig;
Ued Uis,;ust. I lie reason is
. .1.. ., it hi 1 1 w ii . 1 1 ii.i'i mirsj
. . i i j i
e away Irom tlie picture Deiore mm.
As he saw the look of ill-concealed i
disgust witn which Annie iMaurie
'"" '"'r hash uhI's arm, he felt that
. I. .... . i 1 1 i
miserable present mnv aw.-ngeai.iN
.i.i ..i . i i i
, wreieueu pasi. -o,
, "be clear of that day. when ... your
! girlish t'oiiduess you let ine sever this
K,,d tress, as a talisman to keep
love pure and true," and he twined
around his linger a long gleaming
I curl. A mournful smile passed over
face ho gazed at the glittering
, treasure, then advanced slowly to tin
L'lowimr irrate. Ilefore it he stood ir
resolute; the past was upon him with
a power he could not throw off I hat
wun us love, us joy, us ucspa.r.
if i i i i i i .... t ..... ..I : .l.
. i . , . i.i .
low ne ii. in loven nor. Li e m a mm,
; - -
"" ms uoynoou, am
. i i t I
I, oil! wretelieil
j knowledge, fraught with bitterness
"J shame, how beloved her still!
; H' carefully re-wrapped the curl in
! ''H"'H li:iFr. and, opening his
! ' "'' rcpiaceti H v, nn a m(.-u.
lt is all I have left of her,' he sighed: j eons nl in one.
henceforth, h-t my life's battle be to 'Ob, hush!' said Annie Maurie im
forget that I have ever loved.' Cow- ploringly, 'reproach in not; I could
urdly beginning to the weary conflict, j weep away my very life. I am so ut-
i n.. 1...U- ..:..i.i:.. ... ,i... ,w...,..r.
Hill llll Ul 11 II i IV. Ill III WL HIV
ful enemy! Why does he not crush
every memorial of the past, wipe out
love's name from the tablets of his
heart, and flee from the presence of
the beloved one? Because human
passion is strong and human resolu-
tiou weak. Already we hear the ut my adeetion. they called it a child
luutterings of (he coming storm. j j.sh fancy they sai l it was like the
Hearts are young and passionate,
temptation strong and powerful, and
no God is called upon out of the
depths to succor and to save. Heav
en help them! without religion, with
weak principles, they must sink and
perish in the rushing waves.
The night was serene arid lovely;
the moon floated calmly in the heav
ens, silvering the earth with prodi
gality of light. No sound broke the
deep stillness, not even the rustling of
a leaf stirred the quiet air. Annie
Maurie paced the balcony with unqui
et steps. She felt restless, tho moon
light saddened her, the deep silence
oppressed her. Sho was compassion-
less! her husband was nt the ciuo.
He had married late in lilo and could
not be expected to resign his old ways,
Lis old haunts, and Lis old compan
ions. 'You have your piano, my dear,
your books, and you may have com
pany whenever you are in tho mood;
but it is most unreasonable to ask me
lo stay at home with yoj.' The young
wife did not ask it, to far from that,
she did not desire it. U was one of
OIL 17, 185!.).
those cases where absence is 'Lethe's
quiet,' but not its 'gloom.' 'Then, you
see, my dear, at the club I meet our
best men.' 'You menu tho worst.'
'mind comes in 'contact with mind,' he
continued not , noticing the interrup
tion, and i"'
'0, pray offer no apologies,' sharply
interrupted Annie; you aro pleased to
go, and I am pleased that you are
pleased. The Club House was built
by men, for men, let men frequent it;
let the married ignore domestic life,
and find their chief delight away from
home, but do not let them embarrass
themselves with excuses, nnd plead a
necessity that does not exist.. Go
where you please, when you please,
and stay just as long as you please,
there is a carte-blanche for you,' and
Annie Maurie picked up a book, which
implied that the audience was at an
end.
'My dear, really your Kind permis
sion amounts to positive indillerenc.c,'
and Mr. Maurie walked uneasily out
'- Thiw if WiW ,ll,U Aiml('
M"" l,'ft nl,m,! ev'r' "'''""f
: jwand.-n-.l solitary through the
l',y walks of her garden, the temp
i ter stole in. nersuaded. ami
Annie Maurie at length ceased her
weary pacing and leaned sadly over
I the balustrade. What would bring
her peace, ' w hat quiet the restless
I yearnings of her heart? The tears
rose to her eyes, then fell
i oi : n..
in slow ; i
urons. e w i m-r id e
I
utlerlv,
hopelessly miserable. A voice san
beside her, 'Alone, ami in tears, idle
tears: She started she was not sur
prised, she knew that he would come,
and she answered, quirt ly dashing
away her tears:
'Idle tears! let me finish your quo
tation:' "I know not what they ninaii,
Tears from the di'plh of some ilivinu de
spair lli.so in the heart and gather to tho eyes,
lu looking on iln' !i:ijiy Autumn fields
And thinking of the days that are no
mine
0, iliMth in life, lho days that aro no
1 1 1 1 1 1 L' .
She clasped her hands upon her
aching heart, and murmured again
and again, 'the days that are no more,
no more."
Ahl those days that are no more.
Whose years tire without them, who
i has not joyed even unit) eslacy in
j them, w ho has not mourned them
I even unto despair.' Yet who, who
I would blot I hem out forever from the
tabids of memory? t Hi. no; let, them
stay, even though like Annie Maurie,
we press our hands upon our aching
hearts, and cry, with a bitter cry, "the
days that are no more."
"And what made the happiness of
those days, Annie.'"
"Love and youlli," she answered.
"Nothing else'"
"Yes, truth."
"Aye, truth when you banished
Iter from your heart, you lost peace
and happiness forever, was it not so,
Annie?"
"Yes," she said, in a voice almost
inaudible from emotion.
"A!i! Annie," was the mournful re-
, , , . . , , ,,
"."- :
this sooner? Wealth is the cruel Alo-
loch to whom you have sacrificed
love, happiness, and truth. What
peace now remains for us we arc
both made miserable by the unright-
ter v. so liopclesMV wrctclicc
v
'Then why ilid you marry him,
Annie? You know you did not, you
could not hope to love him.'
Sim answered sadly, 'I married him
becau.so I knew not lho strength of
love. I was but a child; I hey laughed
silver-tinged clouds of summer, beau-
tiful, but fleeting.' Her voice trem
Her
bled, her slight framo quivered with
emotion. 'Yes, I was but a child, and
they treated me as a child they lured
nie with golden baubles, who.e worth
Icstiess 1 knew not. They (old me I
could not marry Charles Lawrence,
he was poor it was madness to think
about it- But, I said. I lo-e him. My
father laughed, and answered wilh a
trite proverb, "When poverty comes
in at the door, love Hies out of the
window. 'O, no!' I said, 'love clasps
love .the closer.' 'Live longer and
k'row wiser, Annie,' he replied, coldly.
Poverty is the dark magician, whose
wand changes love into weariness,
disgusf, nay, even, dislike.' "Impoi
iblc, 1 believe it not; that is tho creed
of the money-grasping world, but not
tho loving human heart.' 'Hush! you
area silly girl, my child.' 'I have a
woman's heart, my fither, I said,
bursting into a passionate lit of weep
ing. 'We'll not discuss tho matter
any longer, that is enough, go" and!
went tomy room to weep, oh what
. t ..i.t.
hitler tears. Day by day I was urged
to do what every feeling in my heart
loudly protested against. Tho hor
rors of poverty wrro held before my
gaze; its repiuiiigs, its toils, its hope
less despair. I was told to contrast it
with the charms of wealth, with its
luxury, its Importance. 1 listened, I
wavered, and then I consented. I was
a mere child ti Weak child; I had
not sounded the depths of my heart.
1 knew not the love of which it was
capable and yes, its very scorn mid
hale. I married. I was surrounded
by wealth. At first, I was dazzled,
amazed. It seemed as if some gener
otis fairy went before me to pour gems
and gold upon my path. Possession
siekeneil into satiely. 1 had rich fur
nil lire, cosily plate, and a regal equip
uge. i was clolhed in vt I vet and sat-
n I I 1' I . II... 1
in, ami uasaeu in iii.'iiuouus. nm i
grew surfeited with my feast of rich
things. 1 became rest less and unhap
py -one craving lho heart's holy
craving was unsatisfied; then indiller
enee to my husband darkened into
positive dislike, but I wan bound by
fetters the world called them holy
whose iron links my weak hands had
not ihe power to break. Then you
came, and with you caino again my
girlhood's love my first, my holy
love. Oh! that you had never left ine,
that you had remained beside me to
make me strong, to stive me from all
ins
elelieduess, this woe!' She
ceased, overcome by lho violence of
her feelings, and Charles Lawrence
uttered a broken cry, 'oh, Annie!' 'Go
now,' slie said, 'lielme 1 sm liirlber; I
must conquer this love, or I shall die.'
'Go!' said I'harles L iwrenee, 'yes, but
you shall go with me. Let us lly from
ibis baleful spot, and break these fet
ters that, bind you with such cruel
force.' lie sp.ake eagerly his words
came fast iiiul hurriedly, as if his very
life depended on their rapid utterance.
She listened, so did live when the
serpent (railed his hateful form through
Ihe sun-lighted glory of Eden. Her
bosom heaved wilh a wild tempest of
fei ling, the words sprang to her lips, ol ).o;i, t.i0th. Again, as ho look
then died away in silence. She (rem- at lho busy, beautiful group below,
bled, broken sighs burst from her bis heart kindled with the memories
oiibled hivi t. Yill she consent? I
will love, s trong- as a giant, overmaster
principle weak as a child? lie urges
wilh wild.lierv Words, still she liesi-
talcs, a 'still small voice' whispers, ,
'stay; belter a lile of unloved solitude,
than the wildest raptures of unholy
love.' She raises a faint expostula
tion, 'it is wrong, but 1 am very mis
erable, and we love each other."
Weak child! wretched wife! seal thy
lips forever to confessions such ns
these. 'Let us go, let us go,' he urges
in heart-broken tones; 'think of ihe
long days of love that stretch far
away into ihe ful lire; think of the joys
shared logelher, think of living over
again the past the blissful past, An
nie.' .o longer she hesitates, bhe is
resolved; satisfied now shall ho the
cravings of her heart, upon that faith
ful bosom she call throw herself, and
weep out all her tears, soothed, pitied,
consoled. 'Oh! at lafct, at last,' she
sobsout, 'shall this weary heart ii t ul
joy here, joy deep as the ocean, peace
perfect as that of heaven, rest, endur
ing rest.'
Poor Child! how blindly we rush j
into thp pit of destruction and despair,
and think it must be heaven because
n few fading flowers grow on the
brink. 'Charles, I' she stops. A
voice says, 'Annie;' 'my husband!' and
die falls insensible at his feet. Thus
passed away the all but conquering
demon; and the good angel interposed
to succor and to save.
Years have sped, and death, the
desolator, has laid the bright head of
Annie Maurie low in the grave. Her
husband preceded LT into 'the silent
land.' One daughter, beautiful ami
lovely as the first Annie, remains to
weep over her mother's story, and to
profit by her mother's oft-repeated
warning; '.'fir- marry for money,' jt
cannot fill up the deep depths of the
human heart, or still ono note of the
music of a former love; if it does, then
thou art less than woman more than
human !
WHLUli'S Till: DIFFERENCE ?
I1T MRS. M. 1. UE.N1S0N.
.A poor man sat at his window no,
I am wrong; it was the window of bis to the neighbors! Poor, nit his noble
hired house. It was a small mansion, f ness was but dross in their eyes.
a little tenement painted white, and Bich! and his weakness would be
surrounded bv richer establishments heavenly lustres, since their offset
. . . . . ... l I ...i... .l.ii...
that seemed to look down with a sort
of crimson contempt upon ihcir hum
ble neighbor. The occupanU i of (hose
stately houses were very much annoy
ed by the simple little house, and the
simple little children that played on
the steps, and generally kept .is cur
tains down on the sido that looked to-
.ar,l (hem.
jjut, as I said before, a poor man sat
at one of the windows overlooking the
street. Ho was a thoroughly noble
looking man, too, with handsome Ho
roan features, and an eye like a hawk.
INumbcr 10.
With tho exception of his coarso
clothes, ho was much more gentleman
ly and dignified in his appearance than
uny merchant in that iirincely row.
A pile of bricks hid been emptied
quite near his doorway; they were for
repairs. As this man looked out, ho
saw two or three children with his
own little ones, humming and buzzing
about the bricks. Their dainty little
hands were eager to fashion houses
and bridge, and all sorts of momen
tary architecture. Suddenly the poor
man bethought him of a pastime of
his own when he was a child, nnd his
heart having rctnii.ed t! e pure and
sweet emotions of youth through th
cares and hardships of mature life,
he hastily threw on his hat, and going
down he taught them anew trick. It
was this : to place a row of bricks on
end, quite near to each other, forming
a long line; by touching the last ouo
an impetus is given to every brick by
its next neighbor, and (lie row is pres
ently swept down in regular order.
The children clapped their hands and
shouted so loudly that some of the
rich neighbors, coming to their win
dows, saw how their little ones were
employed, taking lessons in amuse
ment from a poor and almost unknown
man.
'What a fool!' said one, sneering!)1;
'I should think the man was an over
grown baby. See him laugh! See
him playl "Shame on him! n grown
man; we must call our children in.
And lrom all those windows went
the laugh and the sneer. Men with
trold-tasscled caps set on perfumed
locks, laughed the poor man to scorn;
women in beauliliilly embroidered
rubes turned down the corners of their
pretty lips, and the children were
speedily called in.
Years passed tho poor man had
grown rich. Wealth had come to
him, not through toil, but it did not,
corrupt his good heart, his simple
tastes. Still be loved children and
theiri poits. lie built himselfasplen
did mansion, however, and lived in tho
style, bis great revenues permitted.
'.V.:ain, as in days of yore, there wna
a great load of bricks left in the vi-
einily of his home. Again little chil
dren gathered to "play house," and
ngTiin
the man sal watching them at
Ins wuulow. l i s, ii was his wiuuow
unw a window v, hose glass wati
cost ly plate and he sat there no lon
ger the tenant of a hired house, in
iwiiiiun i.liiiliei. but. attired in the rieh-
. . . i .... i
f old, and he lelt l.imse I compelled
lo go (low ii anil teach the juveniles
his brick game. So, in a moment af
ter he stooifin their midsl, and stoop
ing, picked up the brick ;, and arrang
ed them, and then set llieni ill motion.
How the children laughed, and their
bright eyes sparkled! The noiso
brimgh the aristocratic neighbors to
their windows.
'Well, to be sure I Theie's Mr.
, that wealthy gentleman op-
I posile; playing with the children.
i lsn'1 it a pretty sight, dear!'
Yes, and what a tine looking man
he is, to be sure. W hat freshness of
heart lie must have to enjoy their lit
tle game with so much zeal! 1 declare
it's quite touching!'
So it is; I hey say ho w all of two
million. Hasn't he a fine figure'
'Splendid! Do see him clap his
hands! 1 declare it really brings the
tears to my eyes."
"Wipe. 'em away wipe 'cm way.
Mattic, they're crocodile tears!' cried
n young stripling of seventeen.
His sister, a maiden lady of an un
utterable age, looked round indignant-
"Fact, sis; theyr'e real crocodile
tears, and I'll prove it. When I was
seven years old that same gentleman
. .- i-.. i . ...I 1 .l
('".111(1 Dill I'l a nine Wlllli; iiiihsit mm
taught us children that same trick'
And' sis, you and mother bolh called
him an 'old fool,' ns 1 distinctly re
member; and I, for one, received a
tremendous injunction not to speak to
his children or notice them in uny
way."
Nonsense, Fred!" said his sister,
turning red.
"1 knew it was nonsense, but you
did it. You called him all sorts of
names a 'ridiculous old goose," a
'grown up baby.' and I don't know
what. A'ow here's the samo old fel
low up to the same old trick; and oh!
gracious, there never was such a
beautiful, charming, ileltghtlul scene!
Ueallv, I ought to write a poem on it
guess I will, and entitle it 'Then and
Now,' or 'The Fool grows iser us ho
grows Richer,' which would ho the
best, sis."
"Hold your tongue," snapped the
l:.v. . , .
Fred's sarcasm was not misplaced.
What is called the poor man's sim
plicity, is entitled the rich mans sub
limity. It was the same noble, ten
der, loving, great heart standing by
the little ours in the coarso coat,
jeered at and insulted with impunity,
by tho rich, that now bends his lino
hroadeluih to the dust in order to be
n a level with the little ones; but not
was the almighty dollar.
Kissing a pretty girl down South, a
young gentleman asked her
"What makes you so sweet'
"Oh," she replied, in utter innocence,
my father is a sugar planter."
If you see a wife carefully footing
her husband's stockings, you nw ex
clude that be will not find i f,mcu
to foot her bills. ,
1
U.
m
1
i'
m
iff
!r !'
ft 3
il
m
HI
' J )
I- !:
I
ill
III
If
I J 7
it
SI
9 I. i
V