The Cottage Girl [pp. 275-280]

The Cotllage Girl.
there is the name of another, who, in years gone
, by, trod this spot with the merry shining face of
youth. Thotugh not born to the higher walks of
, life, or accustomed to the dizzy whirl of fashion's
vortex; yet, she possessed that which no embellish, ment could enhance, or taste improve. She p)os sessed that native simplicity of manner, that must
have characterised our first mother before the for bidden fruit imparted a knowledge of evil. There
t was also that perfect roundness of proportion, that
defied the critical eye of the artist, or the fastidi ous taste of the roue. Her hair was of dark au burn, and eyes of the deepest blue. Her stature
was of the usual height, supported by a foot and
ankle that no alteration could improve. In dispo sition, she was soft and forgiving. Malice and re sentment were feelings that never defiled her heart.
Of the most fervent temperament, it was imipossi ble for her to love in part. On whatever object
she placed her affections, it was with all her energy
and soul, which approached nearly to a weakness,
because, blinded to all other objects save the one
that elicited her admiration. Such was Jane,
the daughter of honest Kit. Often have I seen
her at church, when listening to tl-e duties of chil dren to parents, turn her eyes fromn the pulpit to
her aged father; then, half lifting them to Heaven
as invoking a blessing upon his hoary head. How
f different in those days was the spot I have just
mentioned to what it is now. Then, you saw in, dustry in the fields, and neatness in the house.
Just there, on that little mound, stood the house, a
f single storied building, with two rooms on a floor,
t and a chimney at each end. In front, was a' small
portico with a large jessamine on either side inter twining its tendrils with two inultifloras. The
yard and garden were neatly enclosed. The latter
showed a taste and skill that indicated the cultiva tor to be one of no ordinary turn of mind; while
the flowers and shrubbery, bespoke in their arrange ment, the hand of a female. There stood in the cen tre a bower, composed of the jessamine, multiflora
and woodbine, that would have given a charm to
the gardens of the opulent. This was Jane's fa vorite spot; it was here she would retire at sum mer noonday, to study the books given by her fether
or minister. There is another old acquaintance,
which I had nearly forgotten to mention, and that
is, a large elm, which stood at the south end of the
dwelling. All that now remains of that once princely tree, is its trunk and a few of its larger branches
putting forth, when all other trees are in full foliage,
a few sickly leaves. It was under this tree, Jane
and her father wer* accustomed, in summer, to
take their noon meal, and where I have often stolen
when scarce old enough to wander so far, to partake of their repast, where I always found the
coolest cream and nicest fruit, and listened to in. structions that have followed me to manhood. Jane
was then about fifteen years old. She it was, who
2 i5
1843.]
No season of the year is so suited to the conteml)lative mind as autumn. Then it is we see the
green fields putting on their sombre mantles, the
gay flowers losing their brilliant hties, and the dark
forest assuming its yellow tinge-sad mementos of
their com. ii-,g fate. The very air seems to harmoDize with the scene, producing on the serious mind,
reflections upon man's transitory state, of which
the season is so typical. It was at this season of
the year, not many months ago, I came to a spot
that brought back recollections which had become
nearly extinct bv the lapse of time. It carried me
bacli to the days of my childhood-ttiat spring-time
of life, when the fields appear to be laroer, the grass
to grow greener, and the birds to SIDG sweeter. It
,",-as on an afternoon, just as the sun bad sunk bebind the distant woods, imparting a glowing tinge
to all surrounding objects. There was nothing
reinarliable about the spot to attract the attention
of the passer-by. A few half decayed apple-trees;
here and there a half recumbent post, and a slightly
elevated mound told that there once stood a house.
A little in the rear was a cluster of tall cedars,
denotin, a grave-yard. These relics of the living
and dead, stood in what we call in Eastern Virginia, 11 an old field." Though it be not my privilege to record the feats of the dubbed kni,bt, or
ti:e feudal lord, or the luxurious ease of the pampered nabob; yet, I feel it a pleasure to mention,
in my narrative, the name of one, who, though poor,
possessed more than a Itothscliild or a Girard
could purchased good name. His name was
Christopher Alatbews, familiar] called in his neigh y I
borhood, honest Kit. He was an example of the
comfort and happiness the poor m. i,,Tbt obtain, if
tliev would exercise industry and frugality. And