CROPS AND PROFITS. 211 



From these causes it is, that Dorothy will very 

 likely be a weazen-faced old maid, hopeful of any- 

 thing but the tender longing of Overbury s &quot; Faire 

 Milke-Maide.&quot; Too instructed to admire the sharp 

 roughnesses of her wiry papa; too liberalized, it 

 may be, by her reading, to bear mildly his peevish 

 closeness ; not kindling into a love of the beauties of 

 nature, because none will sympathize with that love 

 dreaming over books that carry her to a land of 

 mirage, and make her still more unfit for the every 

 day duties of life ; not recognizing the heroism of 

 successful struggle with mediocrity and homely du 

 ties; yearning for what is not to be hers, she is 

 the ready victim of illnesses against which she has 

 neither the vigor nor the wish to struggle. 



&quot; So, Dorothy is gone ! Squire,&quot; says the country 

 parson ; &quot; Let us pray to God for his blessing.&quot; 



The darkened parlors are opened now; the far 

 mer s daughter is a bride, and death is the groom. 



The gilt-backed books are dusted ; the cobwebs 

 swept away ; the black dress-suit rebrushed ; the 

 twinkle of the eye is temporarily banished ; the 

 neighbors are gathered; the warning spoken; the 

 procession moves ; and the grave closes it all. 



The Artemisias bloom on, and the purple tufts of 

 Hydrangea ; poor Dorothy s flowers ! 



It is a little picture from the life of certain money 



