A Book for the Young | Page 4

his old acquaintance Who borrowed from his
strength, when in the yoke, With weary pace the steep ascent they climbed? Where are
the gay companions of his prime, Who with him ambled o'er the flowery turf, And
proudly snorting, passed the way worn hack, With haughty brow; and, on his ragged coat
Looked with contemptuous scorn? Oh yonder see, Carelessly basking in the mid-day sun
They lie, and heed him not;--little thinking While there they triumph in the blaze of noon.
How soon the dread annihilating hour Will come, and death seal up their eyes, Like his,
forever. Now moralizer Retire! yet first proclaim this sacred truth; Chance rules not over
Death; but, when a fly Falls to the earth, 'tis Heaven that gives the blow.
--BLACKETT.

COQUETRY.
It was in one of the most picturesque parts of South Wales, on the banks of the lovely
Towy, that two ladies sat working at an open casement, which led into a veranda, covered
with clematis and honey-suckle. The elder of the two might be about fifty, perhaps not so
much, for her features bore traces of suffering and sadness, which plainly told, that
sorrow had planted far deeper wrinkles there than time alone could have done. The
younger, an interesting girl of nineteen, bore a strong resemblance to her mother; they
were both dressed in deep mourning. The room which they occupied, though plainly and
simply furnished, had yet an air of taste and elegance.
Mrs. Fortescue was the widow of an officer, who died of cholera in the East Indies,
leaving her with one daughter, and no other means of support than a small annuity and
her pension. An old servant of her own had married a corporal in the same regiment, who
having purchased his discharge, now followed the trade of a carpenter, to which he had
been brought up, previous to enlisting, and was settled in his native place, and the faithful
Hannah, hearing of the Captain's death wrote to Mrs. Fortescue, telling her, not only of
the beauty of the spot, but the cheapness of living in that part of the world, concluding by
saying, a house was then vacant, and could be had on very reasonable terms. Mrs.
Fortescue immediately wrote and engaged it. Though a common looking building, yet by
putting a veranda round, and making a few alterations inside, it soon, with a little painting
and papering, was transformed into a pretty cottage. The work required was an advantage
to Mrs. Fortescue, inasmuch as it occupied her mind and thus prevented her dwelling on
her recent affliction, in other respects too, she felt that a kind providence had directed her
steps to the little village in which we find her--and the good she found to do, was the

greatest balm her wounded spirit could receive: for though her means were so limited,
still, a wide field of usefulness lay before her.
Mrs. Fortescue had a strong mind, and though her trial was hard, very hard to bear, she
remembered from whom it came, and not a murmur escaped her. Devotedly attached to
her husband, she deeply lamented her loss, still she sorrowed not as one without hope:
she had the consolation of knowing few were better prepared for the change; and she
strove to take comfort in reflecting how greatly her grief would have been augmented,
were not such the case. But she felt that her shield had been taken from her; and knowing
how precarious was her own health, she saw how desolate would be her child, should it
please God to remove her also, but a true Christian cannot mourn long; and as the tears of
agony would force themselves down her cheek, and her feelings almost overpower her,
she flew to her bible and in its gracious promises to the afflicted, found that support and
consolation, the mere worldling can neither judge of, nor taste. Some delay, though no
actual doubt, as to ultimately obtaining her pension, had caused inconvenience, as all
their ready money had been absorbed in the alterations of their house, though they had
observed the utmost economy, and demands were made which they had not at the time
funds to meet. Ethelind was miserable, but Mrs. Fortescue bore against all, trusting
something would turn up,--and so it did; for while discussing the matter, a letter came,
with an enclosure, from an old school fellow, begging them to procure her board and
lodging in the village for a few months, intimating how much she would like it, if they
could accommodate her themselves. The terms for the first quarter were highly
remunerative and they gladly acceded to Miss Trevor's proposition, and the few requisite
preparations being made, we will, if our reader pleases, go back to the evening