THE FARMER'S MONTIILV VISITOR. 



91 



honorable labor, and to consider thcmselvps de- 

 signed for something- above country life." It was 

 galling toiler pride that their father permitted tliom 

 to attend a public school, where they must associ- 

 ate with the children of farmers and mechanics. 

 But 'Squire Hale would have it so, and she was 

 forced to submit to it. At home she e.terted all 

 her influence to counteract the ideas she feared 

 they would acquire at school, and every one knows 

 a mother's intluence is great over affectionate, in- 

 experienced daughters. They both imbibed many 

 of her feelings and opinions, and suffered the love- 

 liness of their sunny age to be clouded by useless 

 ideas of consequence and superiority . 



Years rolled by, and they became young ladies. 

 They were both called handsome, though their 

 style of beauty was very different. Lucinda, the 

 eldest, was a little of a brunette, with large hazel 

 eye, dark hair, and a shade of thought upon her 

 brov,'. She resembled her father in person ; was 

 taller and less volatile in her movements than her 

 sister. Caroline was a fairy in figure, and a na- 

 tive grace was seen in every motion. Her blue 

 eye and fla-ven hair proclaimed her relationship to 

 the Osgood family ; and sweet was the smile which 

 played over her features in hours of joy and sun- 

 shine. The minds of the two sisters were still 

 more unlike than their figures and complexions. 

 They had attended the same school ; received the 

 same degree of instruction ; mingled with the same 

 society, yet they were essentially different in their 

 tastes and inclinations. 



Two seeds germinate in the bosom of the earth ; 

 their growth is accelerated by the same sunshine, 

 air and moisture; yet although growing side by 

 side, they become plants totally different in their 

 natures. To these products oi' the soil we mitrht 

 compare Lucinda and Caroline Hale. Both were 

 naturally amiable in temper; but the one found 

 her highest enjoyment in cultivating her under- 

 standing and attending to her duties ; the other in 

 ornamenting her person, and enlarging the circle 

 of her acquaintances. Lucinda had always been 

 strongly attached to her fath-r, and perhaps it was 

 from him her mind received its early bias. It 

 might be possible, however, that a careful observer 

 would have traced it to another source. 



AS we mentioneu before, the two sisters in their 

 childhood and early youth, attended the public 

 schools of their native village ; such schools as are 

 ever open to rich and poor in happy New England. 

 In the one they attended was a talented, high spir- 

 ited youth, older by a year or two than Lucinda 

 Hale. He was the only son of a virtuous and sen- 

 sible fanner in the neighborhood, and was destined 

 by his parents to follow the plough, and procure 

 his livelihood from the same grounds which had 

 been owned in the family through three or four 

 generations. His intelligent eye, cheerful counte- 

 nance, and native intellect, made him the favorite 

 of every new teacher, and many a gentleman's son 

 t'ound himself outstripped in his studies by the in- 

 dustry of Nelson Ncwhall. Adeline, his sister, in 

 many respects resembled him, and both were belov- 

 ed bv their companions and commended by their 

 instructors. 



"With the children of the laboring class in gen- 

 eral, Mrs. Hale contrived to prevent her daughters 

 from associating too freely, but in the case of the 

 two Newhalls it was a little beyond her control. 

 'Squire Hale, who felt an interest in every thing 

 connected with the rising generation, frequently 

 spoke of the promising children of his townsman, 

 and expressed a wish that /1/5 children might be e- 

 qually a credit to the school, and equally honored 

 among their companions. Ilis wife rather sneered 

 at the idea, but did not think it prudent to inter- 

 pose, so Lucinda and Caroline were allowed to 

 treat the Newhalls with a little more respect than 

 they were wont to do the children of farmers in 

 general. Adeline and Lucinda sat in the same form 

 at school ; attended to the same studies ; were as- 

 sisted by Nelson to find the answers to difficult 

 questions, and at playtime were indebted to his in- 

 genuity for one half the. r amusements. He seemed 

 almost equally a brother to both, and in the thousand 

 sports and occupations of their innocent years, 

 was their adviser and constant companion. 



As they grew towards womanhood, the two girls 

 became still more intimate, the one probably influ- 

 enced by liity, the other by gratitude. Thelovelv, 

 interesting Adeline had become an invalid. She 

 was still able to occupy her usual seat in the school 

 room, bat the peculiar delicacy of her look and 

 languor of her appearance, led her friends to fear 

 that the blossom was wilting on its native stem. 



At the cUse of that school, Lucinda and her sis- 

 ter were sent to the academy in B. When the 

 first quarter [ended [they visited home, and Lucin- 

 da, true to her school-day friend, mode her first 



call at the farmhouse of the Newhalls. Mrs. Hale 

 rather encouraged her than otherwise, for even sin- 

 had learni-d to look with interest upon the str;cken 

 girl. She saw that. 



She was waning to the tomb. 

 The worm of death was in her bloom : 

 .'\iid her naturally kind heart led her to pity both 

 the parents and the child. It never once occurred to 

 her mind that a daughter of hers could look with lar- 

 tiality on the handsome Nelson ; therefore Lucinda 

 was suffered to spend as many hours with .'\deline as 

 she cho.^e. Nelson was the idolized son and broth- 

 er, and when his occupation.'! permitted was ever 

 in the iiouse to cheer his mother and amuse his 

 sutfi ring sister. 



Perhaps Lucinda's frrquent calls made him more 

 attentive than he would have been otherwise, for 

 notwillistaiiding he was little more than seventeen, 

 he regarded her with a feeling very different from 

 the usually partialities-of boyhood. That feeling 

 was reciprocated, and though never analyzed and 

 never spoken, was daily gaining strength on both 

 sides. 



It was in Adeline's sick room that Lucinda's 

 mind first received the impress of early piety. The 

 Newhalls were not only descended from our Puri- 

 tan fathers, but they felt in themselves that trust 

 in God which had comforted their ancestors while 

 inhabitants of a wilderness. .Adeline had been 

 taught to worship the God of her parents, and even 

 at her early age, had sought and found the Saviour 

 " whom to know aright is life eternal." She fre- 

 quently conversed with her friend upon the reali- 

 ties of the unseen world, and upon the stronp- con- 

 solations granted her when heart and flesh were 

 failing. Lucinda saw her patience under suffering 

 and her willingness to leave the world when all 

 was bright around her, and she was led to reflect 

 upon the value of that faith which could so buoy 

 up the spirit in a day of trial. 



The vacation was over, and she returned to 

 school. It was with deeper feeling than is com- 

 mon to her age that she looked back upon her na- 

 tive village, and thought how long it would be ere 

 her return. She felt for the first time that the 

 world before her offered nothing to compensate for 

 the deprivation she was about to experience. Eve- 

 ry object around home was clothed with new in- 

 terest; her parents seemed more than ever dear to 

 her; and the vine-covered farmhouse where Ade- 

 line was fading and Nelson springing into manhood 

 was regretted perhaps more than all. Let it pro- 

 ceed from what cause it might, from that time her 

 character seemed materially altered. She evinced 

 a firmness in her opinions, a benevolence in her 

 disposition and a gentleness in her manner which 

 she had never done before. 



Ere the Spring of the succeeding year had put 

 forth its leaves and expanded its thousand blos- 

 soms, Adeline Newhall rested beneath the shadow 

 of the village church. ,\s is customary in the 

 country, she was followed to her long home by 

 nearly all the inhabitants of the place Many a 

 feeling of sympathy was elicited by the appearan- 

 ces of subdued sorrow on the part of the father 

 and mother, but Nelson's irrepressible grief, as he 

 looki'd into the open grave into which Adeline's 

 coffin had been lowered, caused the tear to spring 

 in almost every eye. 



As t'or Lucinda' her heart was almost broken 

 She had never before known grief herself, or felt 

 more than momentary sympathy with that of oth- 

 ers. She felt then that she could willingly resign 

 all the luxuries of her affluent home to supply the 

 place of their lost daughter to the stricken parents, 

 and be a sister and friend to Nelson, whose usually 

 elastic spirit was now bowed to the earth. 



It was soon after the funeral of Adeline that the 

 fir.st suspicions of an attachment between her 

 daughter and the young farmer entered the mind 

 of Mrs. Hale. All her native pride and ideas of 

 family consequence rebelled at the thooght. At 

 first she could scarcely think it possible, but tlie 

 more slie reflected upon Nelson's handsome figure 

 and interesting character, the more she feared its 

 probability. "Vet could it be that Lucinda, so well 

 instructed, with a taste so carefully cultivated, 

 could think for a moment upon a youth who wore 

 a frock ! " Oh," said she to Caroline, as they were 

 alone in the parlor, " if you ever live to many, 

 be sure and never marry a man like your father. 

 You don't realize how much trouble he has occa- 

 sioned me. 1 have always endeavored to bring up 

 my children as they should be, but he has thwarted 

 me and vexed mo to death. I was always opposed 

 to your being sent to a common school, where you 

 would associate with every thing, but I could not 

 have my own way. No. He lliought the children 

 in S — were generally orderly and well instructed, 

 »nd his children must not be taught to fee! above 



their neighbors. Such aristocratic notions would 

 never do in a republic. Now he may see what his 

 republicaniHoi has brought upon us. I wish he was 

 here, for 1 w.intto know what he will say when 

 he hears aliout this." 



"Motiier," said Caroline, "I would not tell fa- 

 ther anything about it. Just as likely as not he 

 would think it w.as a fine thing. You kiiow he says 

 a great deal about industry, and it may be he would 

 think it was a pretty notion for Lucinda, with all 

 her accomplisliinents, to be tending a dairy and 

 turning a spinning wheel. He is always al>aid we 

 shall not be kept in the kitchen enough, and I ex- 

 pect he would like to have us marry farmers or 

 mechanics for the good of the countrv, as he telli; 

 about." 



Caroline's reasoning had its effect. Mrs, Hale 

 reflected upon it, and finally crime to the conclu- 

 sion that it would be better to say nothing about 

 it, but send her daughter to a boarding school in 

 Boston as soon as they could make the necessary 

 arrangements. There Lucinda and Nelson would 

 not see each other, and probably their foolish par- 

 tiality would in ashort time be forgotten. 



A ffw evenings before the two sisters were to 

 leave for Boston, 'Squire Hale and his wife were 

 absent, and Caroline deeply engaged in reading a 

 new novel in her chamber. Lucinda was alone, 

 and as she saw the hues of sunset fading in the 

 west, her mind recurred to the circumstances o 

 Adeline's death and burial. She involuntarily re 

 peated the words of a favorite poet ; 

 " Oh my friend, 

 ■When I recall thy worth. 

 Thy lovely life, thine early end, 

 I feel estranged from earth." 

 A feeling of melancholy crept over her, and she 

 determined to visit the churchyard. Both Caro- 

 line and herself had been there frequently in the 

 daytime, and passed away an hour in reading the 

 epitaphs. She had been in the habit of walkfnga- 

 lone at twilight, and was not aCcustomed to feai\ 

 Beside what could there be to fear in visiting the 

 grave of the sweet and pious .\deline ? She hasti- 

 ly arranged herself for the walk, and thoughtfully 

 followed a footpath across the fields. Daylight 

 was fast deepening into a shadow, and the song of 

 the evening bird had a pensive, melancholy sound. 

 As she drew near the wall that enclosed the buri- 

 al place, a feeling of timidity stole over her, and 

 she wished she had asked Caroline to be her com- 

 panion. Ere she reached the wall, she paused, 

 and was half inclined to return. But the recollec- 

 tion of her school-day friend, of her sweetness, 

 her gentleness, and above all her affection for her- 

 self, made her ashamed of her fears. Adeline's 

 grave was in the corner of the churchyard nearest 

 to her, and after some mental effort, she succeeded 

 in passing over the wall, and in a moment stood 

 trembling beside the grave. She scarcely realized 

 where she was. All recollection of her friend had 

 vanished, and fear and awe usurped the place of 

 every other feeling. She turned to make a preci- 

 pitate retreat, and a voice broke upon the silence. 

 In a moment she was calm. 



" It was his voice, she could noterr. 

 Throughout the breathing world's extent, 

 There was but one such voice for her." — 

 It was indeed the voice of Nelson Newhall. Af- 

 ter the labors of the day were over, he had uproot- 

 ed a little tree, and had come. to plant it by the 

 grave of his sister. He said that when living, she 

 loved to see the green trees waving in the breeze, 

 and he would place one to wave over her while she 

 was mingling with the dust. He spoke of the 

 bright world where they hoped her spirit had gone, 

 and of the vacuum her death had made to him in 

 the world she left behind. 



It is not our design, however, to let our readers 

 listen to the conversation of the young lovers, as 

 we must call them after this. To them it was full 

 of interest, but to the public their expressions of 

 mutual aff'ection would be uninteresting and un- 

 meaning. Let it Buflice to say, that when they 

 parted, each felt a confidence in the endearing af- 

 fection of the other, that time and absence never 

 had the power to destroy. 



For the two or three succeeding years Nelson 

 and Lucinda seldom met. She was sometimes at 

 home, sometimes at school, and frequently visiting 

 among her distant relatives. ■\Vhen at home, they 

 attended the same place of worship on the Sabbath, 

 and we would not say that their eyes and their 

 thoughts did not sometimes stray i'roiu him who 

 occupied the pulpit. Every time she saw him, Lu- 

 cinda looked on him with pleasure and pride, for 

 now that he had become a man, his commanding 

 figure and e.xpressive countenance distinguished 

 him from all other young men in her native town. 



^ 



