The Southern Enterprise, 1854-12-15

-- ? stooping down sho took it up, and wraping her handkerchief around it, without farther looking at it. But how surprised, nay frightened, was Emily on coining hom<^ showing it to her mother, sho discovered now for the first time, that it was a magnificent worked bracelet, covered with the most valuable stones. Neither mother nor daughter for a moment entertained the thoughtof retaining this valuable ornament as their property.? They carefully put it up, expecting soon to hear who was the ownor of it, and after the lapse of a few days, the above mentioned friend of Emily's, told her that it was advertised in the papers, the person who had found a bracelet, according to description, would meet with a reward commensurate to its value, on leaving it at the mansion of Gen. Count De Thurneek. [concluded next week.] oM q Iir e'3 ScgJ b. Some years ago, an individual wellknown and highly re*pocted in the religious world, uarraled in my hearing the following incident : In early life, while with a college companion he was making a tour on the continent, at Paris his friend was seized with an alarming illness. A physician of great celebrity was speedily summoned, who stated that much would depend upon a minute attention to his directions. As there was no one at hand upon whom they could place inuch reliance, lie was requested to recommend some confidential and experienced nurse, lie mentioned one, but added, 4You may think yourself happy, indeed, should you be able to secure her services ; but she is so much in request among the higher circles hero, that there is little chance of finding her disengaged !' Tho ndfrator at once ordered his carriage, went to her residence, and, much to his satisfaction, found her at borne. lie briefly stated his errand, and ro- j quested her immediate attendance. 4Hut.'

ing pretty piece of inoasic, lying amid a multitude of those less attractive : . > ' "No snow falls lighter than the snow of age; but none is heavier, for it never melt*.* The figure is by no means novel, but fhe closing part of the sentence is hew as well as emphatic. The scriptures represent age by the almond tree, which bears blossoms of the purest white. " The almond tree shall flourish," the head shall be hoary. Dickens says of one of his characters, whose hair was tprning grtry, that it looked as if Time hncMightly plashed his snows upon it in pacing. "It never melts"?no, never. Age is inexorable ; its wheels must move onward, they Know not any retrograde movtfnent. The <jld man may set and sing?"I woukl I were boy ngnin," but be grows older as'be sings, lie may reap of the elixir of youth, but Tie cannot find it; he may sigh for the secret of the alchemy which is able to imiko him young again, but sighing brings it^ot. He mays gaze, backward with an eye of longing upon trie rosy schemes of early years, but as one who gnzo* on his home from the deck ofn departing ship, every moment carrying him further and further away, l'oor old man ! he has little more to do than die. "It never melts. The enow of winter comes and sheds its whito blotsom* u?oryg&> ley and mountain, but soon the sweet pfiWTg follows and smiles it all away. Not so with that upon the brdw of tiio tottering veteran; there-1* a o Spring whose warmth can penetrate its etormd frost. It camo to stay: its single fiakea fell unnoticed, and now it is drilled there. WosltaU see it increase until wo see the'old man in his grave; there it shall he absorb*! bv due erariml darkness.

isccn a young may attractive enough in person and mind to offer his heart and hand, but heaven had blessed him at last in recognizing and appreciating tho loveliness and accomplishments of her daughter, and she alone deserved to become his wife. MYes, my de.tr Mrs. i)e Waldon," he continued, "I love your daughter, her graces have enchained me, and it is impossible for me to exist without her, I give myself up, therefore, to the secret hope, of your aauction to our union, and that you will now look upon mo as you* future son-in-law, making me such in .fact as soon as convenient to youand with these words this silly and conceited person glanced with a complacent smile at his rellected form in tho opposite hanging looking glass. Although Mrs. De Waldon had suspected his intentions, and that the beauty of Emily alone had melted the ice around the heart of this old man, she never expected to hear it avowed so soon, but having tact sufficiently to listen to his proposal, she nnswered him with her native dignity and kindness tliat an offer of marriage to a young lady was a very important event in her life, and aught to be well considered, that he would uot expect her to give him a decided answer now, but having spoken to her daughter about it, sho then could let him know the result of it in the course of the day. ?Mr. Dcmpsky was a rich man, posAfesing, besides his houso in the city, a fine'country residence in the environs of Prague, which yielded him a good round sum of money in rent every year, so tlmt a marriage of her daughter with him, could have secured to her a life free from care and want. But leaving alone the disparity in years, he being Mllilr. Mr. Dpmn?l-? wna tim-i-n lm <>

gan to relent. Well, lie went on, 'Charles was always a good boy, a little wild or so at college, but 1 indulged him ; and he was always good to his old father, for all, but ho disobeyed mo by marrying this poor girl; yet as my old friend and fellow soldier, Tom Bonner used to sa3% we must forgive. Poor Tom! 1 would give all tho old shoes I have got, to know what ever become of him. If T could but find him or ono of his children ! Heaven grant they they are not suffering ! This plaugy smoky room, how my eyes water!? If I did but know who this girl was that my Charles has married; but I have never heard her name. I'll find out and? 'I think it's likely,' said tho old man. Ellen led into the room a beautiful boy, about thrco years old. Ilis curly hair and rosy cheeks could not but make ono love him. 'Who is that ?' said the old mau wiping his eyes. 'That that is Charles' boy,' said Ellen, throwing one of her arms around her father's neck, while on the other she placed the child* on his knee. The child looked tenderly up in his face and lisped out: 'Grandpa, what makes you cry so?' ? The old man clasped the child to his bosom, kissed biin again and again. After this emotion had a little subsided, ho bade the child tell his name. 'Thomas Bonner Whcatly,' said the l>oy, 'I am named after grand pa.' 'What do I hear ?' said the old man, 'Thomas Bonner your grandfather V 'Yes,' lisped the bov, and he lives with ma, at- ; 'Get me my cane,' said tliQ old man, 'and come Ellen ; bo quick chilJ.' They started otf at a quick pace, which

rw t-FWII i n IIWH l l??o uiniwcM VI ivu . "Jh? inifd^v flowers are fair to gather? llairbclla, and daisies, sunny-eyed. And cowslip, child of -AJf>ril weather; Ivitig-cnrvs ana crocuses, thnf fling A golacn gKmmeroYr the meadows; And Tillies, o'er the glassy epriug. Hint bend to view their own white shadows. "Rut. unavailing tlieseire flung, In blcsbing bloom of peArly whiteness, Tlu- w hile for me so idly hung Tho& buds of blue celestial brightness, . That gem the ware's opposing shore, L*]<on my grasp w hich fair 'would measure Tltnt glittering space of water o'er, Bespread like some attaiulees treasure," "The boon be thine, fair love!" he cried; And, through that glittering crystal dashing, He wended fast where o'er the tide The blue gleam of those flowers was flashing. He reek'd not of the treacherous flood. Outspread in deepening paths before him ; While on, in eager, ardent Vnood, Unto the flowery prise he bore bhn! Alas! nlas! the watery cone Around him olnng with mightier clasping; Hut the goal u rescued, the prize is won. Triumphant in his reeolutc grasping! lie turned him proudly to the strand. And cries', while o'er the o'crwhelming river, *' lie flung the flowers with dying hand? 'Forget me not!" and jiaasea forever! Forget me not! and ?? lier feet, Where ne'er had lore bid truer token, They lay, whose task was now but meet To wreathe a heart whose hope was broken 1 Thence ever grew that name to bo So dear unlo affection parted? . "Hie flower of lore's fidelity, .. . Hie motto of the eousiant-bearUd. tLB.)L Original Craralatioii. a

danger. Their likeness to each other was truly surprising. Both devoted themselves to the line art*, painting esj>oci;iUy. When sixteen years old they were considered as masters; but about that time a crisis took place in the disease attacking both. The physicians decided that the young men must separate ; they objected for a long time* but at last overcome by the supplications of their mother, they left to chance to decide which one should depart. It fell upon Alfred, and lie started to visit Greeec and the East, to be absent about a year. Regularly were transmitted by hiuff to bis mother and brother left behind, pictures, sketches, of interesting and beautiful scenes ill his travels. But these pictures, taken from nature, were so exactly the counterpart of what had been painted by tho brother at home during the same time, that tliev could not ho distin^tiishdd the one from tho other. While in Upper Egypt Alfred died, and the physicians wrote to the mother an account of the circumstances attending his death. Upon the same day, and at tho sainc hour, the brother in Italywalso lied. The same circumstances attended his death?the last words uttered were the same. The distracted mother relumed to Germany. Two years after she again gave birth to twin sons, tho exact Qpunterparts of those she had lost. She gave to them the same names. The same symptoms of feeble health showed themselves, and change of climate was again ordered. Tho mother repaired to Spain. The twin sons again devoted themselves to painting. When sixteen tliey weie also taken sick, and a separation was order -

' J * the innn to fulfill the concluding wish of Mr*. De Waldon's letter. On the next day, alrenJy, ho called for the money duo' to him, yet, informing her, either, consent to the mnrriage of her daughter with him, or not paying the money due to him in six days, he would enforce the rigour* of law against her. She knew him too well, to expect anything hotter from him, but how to avert and relieve her distresses,1 withbut sacrificing the happiness of her! daughter, was a riddlo to her, as just now \ her means were entirely exhausted, her ein-; barrassmcnt and cares enlarging every hour and with anxiety of heart, and weeping eyes, sho saw a dark, troubled, cheerless future, open before her, but, where affliction's great' est, God's saving hand is nearest 1 Accustomed to domestic life, Eniilv never desired any other pleasure, than to be near her mother, attending and enlivening her weary hours, occasionally leaving hor to. the care of a friend, she wont to a neighboring chapel, hearing mass and praying to God for tho recovery of her mother's health. On the day that Mr. Dempsky made known his final determination to her mother, she had gone, as usual, to fulfil her pious duty, and moss being over, she slowly retraced her steps homeward. It was getting dark, and she was just on tho point of stopping over tho threshold of the chapel,when,accidentally casting down her eyes, she saw lying on tho flnnr lM?nr (Kn rtonr onmn aliininn

'neither have I,' he continued, 'done anything but a duty encumbent ou every human being with these words he went away almost bewitched by the glances of those dark aud lustrums blue eyes of Emily. Emily went home and related to her sick mother all that had happened. She was at first terrified,.but at the conclusion of the story she thanked God in a sincere and heartfelt prayer for the preservation of her dear child from swell a horrible deatfff The emotions of her heart having subsided a little, Mrs. Du Waldo n reproved her daughter for neglecting to learn at least the narno of the officer, that she too might have expressed her gratitude to him ; to Emily life name was of coureo unknown, bqt the image of her preserver was for over engraven on her young and innocent heart She jvas always ! vividly recalling the particalars of the scene to her imagination, when %vor she crossed the bridge or passed near tho spot of her disaster. Emily was now in her sixteenth year, and nerTersonal charuw more and more unfolde^tue treasures of her cultivated minJ to such a degree, that she was called the belle of Prague everywhere. Appearing in public wa? sure to excito general homage to her angelic loveliness. There w as an indescribable enchantment about her that o?n h*>r m.aK -