صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

FOR THE CHILDREN.

[ocr errors]

In sunshine and gladness,

INCREASE OF PRICE.
Through clouds and through sadness,
Bridal and burial have passed away.

The price of all two dollar papers and periTell us life's pleasures with death are still rise ! odicals was raised, some time since, to two dol.

lars and a half or three dollars, excepting the Tell us that death ever leadeth to life!

Ladies' Repository, which we hoped to be able Life is our labor, and death is our rest;

to continue at the old rate. The continued rise If happy the living, the dead are the blest.

in paper from twelve to thirty-five cents, the

increased cost of printing, the note from our Many beautiful legends of the Catholic Church binder, saying, “ I must charge you one-third have been embodied in verse ; but few are pret

more for binding," and lastly, the lately im. tier, or better worth perusing, than the follow- posed government tax of five per cent. on gross

receipts have dispelled our hopes, and we have ing two which we offer the children,

been compelled reluctantly to fall into the line THE SWALLOW.

with our neighbors and increase our terms of When Jesus hung upon the cross,

subscription. The birds, 'tis said, bewailed the loss

The price of the Ladies' Repository will be, Of Him who first to mortals taught

$2.50 PER YEAR, That God of every one hath thought; after January 1st, 1865. All persons remitting Guiding with love the life of all,

the amount of their dues previous to that date And heeding even the sparrow's fall.

will have their accounts balanced at the old

rates. In the January number, we shall send But as old Swedish legends say,

out bills, and all who are then owing us will Of all the birds upon that day,

be charged at the rate of $2.50 per year. The swallow felt the deepest grief,

We think all our friends will admit the necesAnd longed to bring her Lord relief,

sity of this move on our part, and cheerfully And chirped when any near would come,

acquiesce in our terms. Hugswala, swala, swal’honom,

T. & Co., publishers. Meaning, as they who tell it deem, “Oh, cool, oh, cool, and comfort him!”

NEW SUBSCRIBERS. O soul, O life, I love! whene'er

SUBSCRIPTIONS will be received for the Repos. A sufferer in this world draws near,

itory commencing with the January number; How Jesus died in bitterest woe?

and as an inducement to our friends to procure That thou in every brother's pain

new subscribers, we offer the following Mightst see thy Saviour live again. Then, drawing from the living stream,

For One Subscriber, “Oh, cool, oh, cool, and comfort him !"

Any of our 65c. books.

For Two Subscribers,
Then Jesus walked in Jewry, then

Any of our $1.25 books.
He hungered oft like other men ;

For Three Subscribers, And quaint old monkish stories say

Any of our books to the value of $2.00. That, in a baker's shop one day,

For Four Subscribers,
He asked for food. About to bake,

The Repository free one year.
The mistress took a generous cake,

For Five Subscribers,
And said, “ All this I mean for thee;

One copy of Cobb's New Testament.
Wait, Lord, until it ready be!

The cash must accompany each list of names “ It is too much,” her daughter cried, at $2.50 caoh, and the premium will be sent to And put one-half the gift aside

the person who procures the subscriber.
With angry air. He nothing said,

CLUB RATES.
But by the fire lay down the bread ;
When lo! as when a flower blows,

Four or more Subscribers, at $2.25 each.
To a vast loaf a manchet rose !
In angry wonder standing by,

And a copy free, for one year, to the person
The girl sent forth a wild, rude cry, who gets up the Club.
And feathering fast into a fowl,

We trust our friends will render us their as.
Flew to the woods, a wailing owl.

sistance. Tompkins & Co., publishers.

!.

PREMIUMS.

THE OWL.

Eight's

“ $2.00

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

CHAPTER I.

- You

THERE

you, sir.”

THE CURATE OF LANSCOTT

unhappy woman, who sought counsel ? LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.

These questions passed like lightning

through the minister's mind, as he rose By Miss M. Remick.

and placed a chair. “. Be seated, mad.

am, ,” he said, courteously.. WHERE be a lady who wants to see The lady threw back her veil.

remember me?” she said. “Show her in, Mrs. Hawes.”

· Lady Lemwall !” His face expressThe rector sat in his study, his freshly-ed pain and astonishment. begun sermon for the morrow spread out It was a beautiful countenance which on the white sheet before him.

confronted him, - clear blue eyes, tresses It was a quiet parsonage in one of the of sunny gold, features cast in the finest pretty villages of Herfordshire. The mould of patrician loveliness, - it was a study-windows opened on a broad level of beautiful countenance now, even with the lawn, green fields, bordered with trim tracery of care and sorrow; how wonderbedgerows now in bud and blossom, for it fully fair it must have been in the freshwas the early May, tender harvest slopes, ness of its morning! leaving oak copses, and a little in the dis- Alas! Alice Seaton's beauty had been tance, the thickly-scattered white cottages the most unfortunate of dowers. of the tenantry.

“I do remember you," said the minisMr. Lawrence threw down his pen, and ter, speaking slowly, and lip and cheek turned to the door to receive his visitor. blanching as he brought the words out;

It opened, and a lady, deeply veiled, but I thought you were dead.” entered.

He told you so !” burst out the woWhy it was he could not say; but the man, passionately, " he told you that first sight of her figure gave him a start. falsehood !” It was not the dress, which, though mark- “No," said Lawrence, hesitating, “not ing the distinctions of rank, showed him in plain words; but they bore that meanit was not one of his humble parishioners, ing.” or hardly the agitation which, under her "I waited and waited," said Lady enfolding veil, shook her with a deep and Lemwall, her voice sinking to a strange powerful emotion.

calmness," through all his uncle's life. Was it a penitent, who had come to You know when you married us that was seek comfort in confession ? Was it some the condition, - Our marriage must be

TOL XXXIII. — NO. VII. - JAN., 1864.

no answer came.

kept secret, because it would ruin my Alice turned with a sudden gesture. husband's prospects. I waited and wait. Her eyes wandered around the room, to ed, six long years. Eight months ago, he the green fields and lovely vales spreading came into his inheritance. He was then outside the window, the spire of the church abroad. He had not written me for long; rising tall in the distance.

“ You are it was an understanding between us; he bought!” she said, bitterly. “ He has feared the interception of his letters. I paid you for your silence." heard of his return, but still silence. The minister's face flushed. His secret Weeks went by, and I wrote him; but heart told him the taunt was not so utter

I wrote again — weeks ly undeserved, and get there whispered — months — hope died within me. I the plain voice of reason. could bear my weight alone no longer. I “What can I do for you?” he repeatwent to my poor old father with my story. ed. “I have no means and no friends to He wrote to Lord Lemwall, this time to undertake your cause. The certificate, receive an answer — an insolent reply - even, is in your husband's possession. in his own hand! O my God, I shall go The witness is dead." mad!”

“ Fulfil your duty,” said Alice, firmly. She rose up and leaned against the win. “ I cannot believe in all this wide land dow, locking her hands together. there is no man generous enough to under

“What did he say to you?said Law. take for the innocent." rence, hardly less moved than herself, as Lawrence shook his head. “ You do the tightly corded veins on his forehead not know the world. They would believe and the bloodless hue of his lips showed. Viscount Lemwall.”

“Yes,” she said, “I came here. I was The lady wrung her hands. A smothsick first, and somehow the story of our ered cry burst from her lips. connection got about, —I don't know “ Then there is nothing left for me but how, perhaps in my ravings, — they all the life of the street, or the grave." thought me an accursed thing, even my “Not so, madam; have hope! God proud old father ; it bowed his white will help you, and I can do something of head to the dust. Oh, sir, you don't his will. I will see your husband; he know what it is to see the faces you have will certainly grant you an allowance.” known from childhood turn away from “I will not take a penny from his you.

I came here. I would see him; hand,” said Alice, “ to accept the black I refused to send in my name; he was lie he thrusts upon me! No! I will beg alone.”

or starve." She stopped, and bent her face upon Lawrence sat silent; a troubled conher hands.

sciousness, press it down as he might, was Lawrence waited in breathless atten- deepening upon him. tion.

“You refuse to help me?" she said, " He said I was not his wife, – it was her hand upon the door. all a boyish folly, a mock marriage. I- “ Lady Lemwall, I have told you. I knew better. I have come to you. What can I do?" You are a Christian minister; you mar- She stood still for one moment, the ried us; you will help to right me.” latch in her hand, her face turned toward

The perspiration stood in drops on the him. Through their interview, his eyes poor man's temples. “I? Lady Lem- had been cast down, - riveted on the wall, I have no friends. The viscount is floor, — but now, by some strange magnetrich and powerful. We should be ac- ism, he felt them raised to face her. For cused of conspiracy, you and I, if we an instant their eyes met, then, as if readdared to carry this matter before the ing her answer, she turned, the door courts; they would not open to us. You swung after her, and he was again alone. are his wife, unfortunate lady, his legal The song of the robin still floated in wife in the sight of God, friendless as you through the open window, the perfume of now are,

the roses in the little garden beneath rose

up as sweet, the dew lay as fresh on the and sunshine; the bright drops impearled landscape, the morning sun glistened as the thick sward of the lawn, and glisbrightly on the tender leaves, but a deep tened on the white May hedges, while the shadow had stolen over all.

robins and thrushes kept up a gush of Lawrence took up his pen again. He melody annidst the bloom of the orchard. started as he recalled the text,- “ Lead The bridegroom had come; they heard as not into temptation," — the pen slipped his voice below. Mary stooped to her from his fingers, his face dropped in his sister's trembling fingers to fasten her bands.

long, flowing veil. A well-known step on One week from the morrow, he was to the stair — she came out, her downcast bring home a bride, after eight long years face glowing under her lace veil with of weary waiting, - years which might smiles and blushes, and hardly heard her well have stolen the roses from his Mary's lover's voice, or felt the pressure of his cheek and the smiles from her ripe lips. hand, as she took his arm to enter the A boy and girl love - when had they not carriage. loved ? but poverty had stood between A moment more, and they were passthem. Viscount Lemwall's gift, this new ing up the aisles of the gray old church, living, had changed all his lot, had filled and the aged minister stood before them his heart with an overflowing gratitude; in his flowing surplice with his open but, oh, he had never dreamed of its book. cost! But how had he erred after all ? “ If any man know just cause or imWhat could he do ?

pediment," — The voice rung clear and He raised his head and looked out on distinct through the lofty aisles ; a shudthe smiling landscape. Far as his eye der convulsed the frame of the bridecould reach, and beyond, shut in by tow- groom; the ring which he had taken in ering hills and wooded slopes, lay the his fingers slipped to the floor. broad lands of Lord Lemwall. How Mary started; her eyes stole a glance vain the dream of entering into fierce at Lawrence's face, marking with surprise and hot competition with so powerful a its agitation and pallor. A cold chill fell man, to force upon him an unloved wife! upon her, she could not tell why; all the And yet -- if Lord Lemwall should see fit innocent joy and gladness seemed to die to marry again, this first union undis- out of her heart. solved ? — No! no! he dare not do that! The bridesmaid drew the glove from

"I cannot write more,” said Lawrence, her hand, and her bridegroom took it in rising and thrusting his papers into his his to place the ring. Both started at desk; “how this visit has unsettled my the icy contact. It was over in nerves! I may as well make my call to ment, and they knelt down for the benMatthew's cottage; the old man is very ediction. ill; he will last but a few days. How The bells broke out in a merry peal; fresh and warm this sunlight is, coming friends crowded around them. It should out of that dark room.”

have been the happiest hour of Law

rence's life, should have been, and why CHAPTER II.

was it not?

Their short bridal tour lay through the Was there ever a fairer bride than beautiful scenes of Devonshire, This pretty Mary Clemant, as she stood before was Lawrence's birth-place, and here, in her mirror in her little chamber, while one of the little hamlet-towns, his aged her bridesmaid — a younger sister who mother still lived. He brought his bride strove every now and then to hide the hither, to wander with her, for the first tears which would well up in her soft time, amidst the picturesque places in brown eyes— twisted a handful of shining which his childhood had been spent. white rose-buds among her pale brown One evening, they wandered out into braids and fastened a spray in her bosom ?” the old graveyard where his father and

It was a clear, fresh morning, all dew brother lay, and lingered some little while

mo

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

by the graves, many of which, side by I've lived in the world coming on to side with neglected mounds, showed the seventy years, man and boy; he'll have tender cares of the villagers.

his reckoning, I can promise you.". The sexton was there, plying his spade, Lawrence turned away, and held out

an old, gray-headed man. He nodded his arm to his wife. She felt that it to Lawrence, who drew near to speak trembled as she took it; an icy shiver with him.

ran through her own veins.

What was Many changes since I was here last, her husband's connection with this woMr. Moses ! Half the people I used to man? It was not an ordinary tale to know are lying here!”

him, — common as such things are, and “Yes, sir, great indeed! Death spares common as sad, — she loved him too well, nobody."

knew him too well, perhaps we should say, “Who are you preparing a last bed not to have seen that. for now, my good man ?

They went on in silence, Lawrence too “I don't know, sir; a poor young absorbed in his own distress to notice the thing who came here as a stranger. She stillness of his companion. died only last night. She was taken with The aged mother sat by the window a fever."

of the sitting-room, looking out on the A strange thought seized upon Law- gravelled walk. The air of the room rence; he held his breath. A feeling he was scented with the fragrance of the could not restrain urged him to further sweet-brier' which grew under the low inquiries.

windows. “She was a stranger, then ?” he ob- Mary sat down beside her, and Law. served.

rence, abruptly quitting them, went up to “Yes, sir,” said the old man, stopping his chamber. and leaning on his spade; "and between The old lady looked after him.

« Elyou and me, asking pardon now she's bert seems strange,” she said, “speaking gone, I think she was none too good, out the thought which had somehow unfortunate, - that's the word, you un- forced itself into her mind. “ He looks derstand? She took lodgings with Mrs. ill; I fear he is not well.” Pendleton when she came here; she gave Mary thought it was a mental rather no account of herself, only said she want- than a bodily affliction under which her ed to stay a few days. That night she husband labored; but she said nothing. was taken sick;

I think she felt it com- “The duties of his profession are very ing on. She told Missus Pendleton to wearing,” resumed his mother ; "he tells call her Miss Bernard ; but that name me his parish is large.” don't agree, they find, with the initials on "I always thought his heart to be in her clothes, which are . A. S.' She looked his work," said Mary, speaking rather like a lady, and was handsome, too, as a faintly. She felt that some reply was expicture; she was one of the gentle-folks." | pected from her.

Lawrence leaned heavily against a gray Yes, my dear; he has entered into stone by which he stood for support. He his Master's work with his whole soul. felt his wife's glance turn upon him; he Always, from a boy, his thoughts run knew the warm blood was dying out of that way, - to the ministry. Not all his cheeks and lips. The old sexton re- the poverty and narrowness of Cramsumed his spade, and threw up fresh ford, with the self-denials it involved, shovelfulls of the mould.

could damp his spirits. How thankful I Lawrence tried to recover himself. am that Viscount Lemwall remembered “ It's a sad story,” he murmured.

him when he came into this new property! Yes,” said the sexton, looking up and They were old friends at school. Elbert pausing with his spade ; " but the sad told me he had not seen his lordship bedest is for him who deceived her. She's fore for five years! You see what a kind at rest, poor thing; but he'll have his heart he must have to remember his old reckoning; I've never seen it to fail, and friend !”

« السابقةمتابعة »