Fanny Fern

“ Had cousin John no war to wage with self? Could the long-hoarded hope of years be relinquished without a struggle? Could blissful days and nights, in which to breathe the same air with Rose, win even the faintest smile, were reward enough for any toil,—could such memories cease at once to thrill? Could he see that smile, in all its brightness, beaming upon another?—hear that voice ten fold more musically modulated whispering (not for him) words he would have died to hear—and not feel a pang bitter as death? Tell me, ye who have made earth-idols only to see them pass away? ”

“ As Dolly slammed the door to behind her, Rose sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, leaned her head on the table, and wept; she was growing older, and more capable of judging of the gross injustice done her.
Bitter, despairing thoughts came into her gentle heart, for it seemed as if the more patiently she bore her cross, the heavier it grew. She wondered if she could be worse off if she ran away, with the earth for her pillow, the skies for her shelter? Surely, strangers would not be more unfeeling than Dolly. ”

“ I seized my pencil, and I triumphed even with the blood-hounds on my track, for God helped the innocent."
"Oh, teach me that, strong-hearted, noble Gertrude, teach me that! for I have no stay this side Heaven!" and, with sobbing utterance, Rose poured into Gertrude's sympathizing heart the checkered story of her life.
Did she whose courage had parted the stormy waters of trouble, and who had come out triumphant, turn a deaf ear to that wail of despair?
Is woman always the bitterest foe of her crushed sister? always the first to throw a stone at her? ”

“ He smiled the old smile; he said, 'Right, my girl, a short life and a merry one; there is no future—we die and there's an end!' My tortured soul gave these false words the lie; but I smiled back—he was to be my victim now! Peace was lost, heaven was lost; what should hold me back? The wine cup went round. 'Pledge me,' I said, 'here's to your happy future!' He drained it, poison and all, to the dregs—why not? Men make the laws to suit themselves, so they make no law for the seducer. ”

“ I had a sister once; but whether living or dead I know not. There are none to interfere between us; let us be all the world to each other.
"Charley! plead for me," said the doctor, as he raised the beautiful child in his arms; "who shall pilot your little bark safely? This little hand is all too fragile," and he took that of Rose tenderly in his own—"Nay, do not answer me now; I am selfish so to distress you," said he, as Rose made an ineffectual attempt to speak;—"think of it, dear Rose, and let your answer be kindly; oh, trust me, Rose." ”

“ Rose sat over the untasted morsel, looking vainly from one face to another, for some glance of sympathy for the new comer.
They were once new comers—some long since, some more newly; their hearts, too, like Rose's, had yearned for sympathy; their ears ached, as did hers, for one kind tone; but that was all past. Many suns had risen and set on that hopeless search; risen and set, but never on their sports or plays.
The moon sometimes looked in upon them asleep in their little narrow cots. She saw the bitter waking from some mocking dream of home. ”

“ Twice a day they were walked in file round the paved yard, through which not a blade of grass dared struggle; walled in from the little children outside, whose merry laughs and shouts startled the little prisoners as if those tones were unnatural, and only their listless life real. As evening came on, they sat drowsily stooping over their tasks, or clicking the monotonous knitting-needle, till weary lids would droop, and tired fingers resumed their task only at the rap from Markham's ferule.
Rose saw it all now—she felt it—the torpor—gradually creeping over her, and numbing her senses ”

“ It certainly can be no secret, for if Time deal gently with them the family register will not; and if the finger of vanity obliterate all traces of the latter, some toothless old crone yet hobbles, who, forgetful of every thing else, yet remembers the year, week, day, minute, and second in which (without your leave) you were introduced to life's cares and troubles.
"Beside, old age need not be repulsive or unlovely," said Gertrude; "look at that aged couple, yonder! How beautiful those silver hairs, how genuine and heart-warming the smile with which they regard each other! ”

“ The young girl draws a glove from her small hand, and applies her knuckles to the sun-blistered door. Old Mrs. Bond toddles to the threshhold. With what a stony look the stranger meets her curious gaze! With what a firm step she crosses the threshhold; as if, child-mother as she was, she had rights that must not be trampled on. But see, her eye moistens, and her lip quivers. Harshness she was prepared for—kindness she knows not how to bear.
"You must be very weary," said good Mrs. Bond to Rose, as she held out her matronly arms for little Charley. ”

“ I want to make a picture of him like those that you see," said Gertrude, pointing to her sketches about the room;—"he is as handsome as an angel; leave him with me, never fear, I can charm babies like a rattlesnake, and bite them too," she added, touching her lips to Charley's tempting shoulders.
"But my missis—" remonstrated Chloe.
"Oh, never mind," said Gertrude, with her usual independence; "no mother ever was angry yet because her child was admired. I will bring him down to your door when he gets weary—there, do go away—he grows more lovely every minute, and I am losing time." ”

“ Imprisonment for life is none too heavy a penalty for such an offense. It is odd," said the old captain, reflectively, "how a woman will forgive every thing to a man she loves. Now that poor little Rose—she clung to the belief that her lover had neither betrayed nor deserted her—isn't it odd now? and isn't it a cursed shame," said the old captain, striking his hand down again on his knee, "that the most angelic trait in woman's nature should be the very noose by which man drags her down to perdition? Hang it, I could almost foreswear my own sex when I think of it. ”

“ Those old poke bonnets of the Cramm girls, trimmed with that pink ribbon they have worn two seasons, and Mrs. Munroe's rusty-looking black mantilla—it is perfectly disgusting."
"So it is," said the sympathizing Kip, "I am tired to death of them, myself. I really wonder, Dolly, you can make up your mind to stay here in this dull place. Why don't you move into the city?"
"Perhaps, I shall, one of these days," said Dolly, with a toss of her head. "I feel as though I was born to better things. It is dull work for a woman to live all her life alone." ”

“ Oh, lay thy lovely dreams aside,
Or lift them up to Heaven!"
"You are a good girl, Gertrude," said her brother. "I am no Puritan, but your song has soothed me. There must be something more satisfying in another state of existence than there is in this, else were our very being a mockery."
"Poor John; he will arrive at the truth by and by," said Gertrude, as he left the room. "I think it is easier for woman to lean upon an Almighty arm; it is only through disappointment and suffering that man's proud spirit is bowed childlike before the cross. ”

“ Rose suffers, but she no longer loves. There is a deep sense of wrong and injury, a hurried look back upon all that is lost, a shuddering look forward, from youth's blighted threshhold, at the long, dreary years yet to come—a helpless folding of the hands at Fate—a hopeless, tearless, measureless grief.
Blessed tears come quickly; lighten that heavy load; moisten those burning eyelids; unclasp those icy hands; give to those dumb lips speech; take from young life death's stony semblance!
Speak to her, Charley. Stir the deep fountains of a mother's love, poor fatherless one! ”

“ Rose's tears make her quite miserable, so she says to Bridget, in her soft kind way, "I should think you might help wash the baby's clothes, Bridget."
"Not for the likes of her," retorted the vixen, with her red arms a-kimbo. "Thank the Virgin, I am an honest woman."
Rose snatched Charley from the floor and darted through the open door, with the fleetness of a deer; not weary now; strong to bear any thing, every thing but that coarse, cruel taunt. Away!—away from it! but where? Oh, Vincent, will it always follow! Strong, is she? Poor Rose! She falls earthward with her tender burden. ”

“ The eyes had closed again, the head had drooped, and the poor thin, outstretched hands fallen hopelessly down upon the frosty pavement.
"Run in, Charley," said John; "the air is bitter cold. Move away, dear, and let me take this poor creature up."
It was a light burthen, that bundle of rags, though the heart beneath it was so heavy.
Rose and Gertrude sprang forward and arranged pillows on the sofa for the dying woman, for such she seemed to be, and chafed her hands and temples, while John and Vincent dropped some wine between the pale lips.
Slowly she opened her eyes. Warmth! light! ”

“ No, dear Rose, the world is a selfish one, and degrading as it is to human nature to assert it, it is nevertheless true, that there are many, like those summer friends of mine, who would stand by with dumb lips and see the slanderer distill, drop by drop, his poison into the life-blood of his victim, rather than bring forward, at some probable cost to themselves, the antidote of truth in their possession. ”

“ Daffy, is the Bible on the light stand? and the hymn-book too? Hand me my silk apron trimmed with the pink bows, and get my breast-pin quick, for goodness' sake; men prink forever themselves, but they never can wait a minute for a woman to dress; how do I look, Daffy? I do wish people had sense enough to stay away of a Monday morning. Don't let these calicos lay soaking in the tub, now, till I come back; give 'em a wring and hang 'em out."
"Good morning, Mr. Clifton," said Dolly, dropping a bobbing courtesy; "it is quite a pleasure to see you." ”

“ How easy to 'obey' when the heart can not yield enough to the loved one? Ah, the chain can not fret when it hangs so lightly! I never heard the clanking of mine. Oh, the deep, unalloyed happiness of those five short years! I look back upon it from this distance as one remembers some lovely scene in a sunny, far-off land, where earth and heaven put on such dazzling glory as dimmed the eyes forever after, making night's leaden pall denser, gloomier, for the brightness which had gone before. These are murmuring words; but Rose, if you ever loved deeply ”

“ I should not talk to you thus," said Gertrude, observing Rose's tears.
"It eases my heart sometimes to weep," was Rose's low reply. "Go on."
"I left the roof under which no sound of discord was ever heard, my child and I. The world is full of widows and orphans. One meets their sabled forms at every step. No one turns to look at them, unless perhaps some tearful one at whose hearthstone also death has been busy. ”

“ Simple, straightforward Rose! as if half the friendships in the world would not snap in twain, placed on any other basis! If each heart, with its disingenuous trickeries, its selfish purposes and aims, were laid bare to its neighbor, if the real motives for seeming kindness, the inner life, whose pure outward seeming is often in direct inversion to the hidden corruption were as transparent to the human as to the Omniscient eye, who could stand the test? ”

“ Maria, where's Rose? Maria, what makes you call your mother grandmother? Do you know Dolly? Dolly is down stairs; I don't go down stairs. See here," and she touched her old faded gown and shawl, "I can't, you see, Dolly wouldn't like it. Oh! dearie me—dearie me! I am so tired," and the old lady laid her wrinkled face against her granddaughter's.
"Voices! and in Rose's room! what new treason now?" and Mrs. Howe applied her ear to the key-hole. The thin gray locks rested lovingly on Rose's glossy auburn tresses. Rose's arm was about her withered neck, and tears fell trickling from her eyes. ”

“ Let me feel Thy presence near!"
"Poor Rose," sighed Gertrude, as she kissed her closed lids, laid her head gently back upon the pillow, and released the little hand within her own. "If she could only bear up under this new trial; she is so pure and good that the thought of the sin the world wrongly imputes to her is wearing her life away. This journey, which I hoped would do so much for her, may fail after all. Poor wronged Rose! how can it be right the innocent should thus suffer?" ”

“ Anne, you should be prime minister; you have a talent for diplomacy; femininity is too circumscribed a sphere for the exercise of your talents. You did that well, Anne—Madame Vincent thrown completely off the track, Rose crushed and out of your way forever; the baby ditto. Madame Macque is very careful of her reputation in this country, because she never had any in France. Ha—ha, Anne, you are a genius—and this brown silk is a proof of it. Now, look out for presents about this time, for your star is at its culminating point. Rose has beauty—has she? ”

“ Rose had put Charley in his little bed to sleep, and sat at the open window, as she had done many an evening before, watching and listening. It was now a fortnight since she came to New Orleans, and still no clew of Vincent. She could not always live in this way; she had not the purse of Fortunatus; she must soon again seek employment. Rose's heart grew sick and faint with hope deferred. ”

“ Its first smile, its first word, its first tottering step, are trifles all to the busy world without; but ah, not in the little home circle: not to him who contending all day long with the jostling world of trade, sickened and disgusted with its trickeries and overreaching, selfishness, and duplicity, weary with the clamorous din of traffic, crosses at length his own peaceful threshhold, and sitting down by that little cradle, bends a brow seamed with care, over the little sleeper, with heaven's own smile upon its lip, heaven's own purity on its baby brow. ”