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, We saw Paul tremble with emotion.”
GOULD & EL
VOLUME XVIE +
‘Portland:
: “BY ‘WELL, .
Office (80 Middle, Roar. Corner of Exchange 8t.
PORTLA
AW INDEPENDENT FAMILY JOURNAL OF LITERATURE, news: BEe
ND, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1852.
ybaraa ys a NUMBER 36.
POETRY.
ouUR LITTLE BOY.
“When the evening shadows gather
Round about our quiet hearth,
Comes our eldest born.unto us,
Bending humbly to the earth !
“And with hands enclasped tightly,
.» And with meek eyes raised above,
This the prayer he offers nightly: !
To the Source of ligut and: love,
“Bless my patents, O my Father!
». Bless my little sister dear:
White I gently take my slqmber,
Be thy guardian angels near
Should no morning’s dawn e’er greet mo,
Beaming trightly from the skies,
is) Thine the eye of Jove to meet me ~~ |"
In the paths of Paradise!”
Now agiad “good night” he gives us; .
1 And he seals it with a kiss;
Naught of earthly sorrow ares,
In an hour so full of b
* Now our arms about him wreathing, |
One fond kiss before he sleeps ;
Soon we hear his gentlé breathing,
Ip a slumber calm and dee]
A SAPITAL STORY,
) From the United Service Magazine Magazine.
THE UNKNOWN BRIDE.
A REMINISCENCE OF THE WENINSULAR WAR.
NOLUDED.
: “They fight like lions,” general, in detence of
those whom they love and respect.”
“But how did all this happen 2”
>: “Thus, - We were twelve of us at breakfast yes-
terday. Derville had brought with hima youn
painter of great promise, named Paul.
fast we went to the Cafe de la Regence. | Ata ta-
ble near us were four young men talking loud an
in a disagreeable tone, wearing long mustachios,
and dressed in the extreme of fashion... ‘These gen-
tlemen seemed to take pleasure” in heaping abuse
on all those generals most esteemed by the country.
One especially, the loudest in’ these calumnies, ap-
peared to think that cach brilliant exploit perform-
ed by another was so much! renown of which he
himself was robbed. ‘We were losing
and our looks bespoke our indignation, when the
youth in question came to facts and utteréd a.name.
“The painter 2”
“Yes; the brave Jad is an énthasiast for the em-
peror, and his veterans, and it, happened” that the
name pronounced was that of one with whose ex-
ploits he was most familiar. Ie half rose, when
the scoundrel asserted that the general i in question
‘had made his fortune by the plunder of Italy, and
Spain’; the sentence was not finished before the
slanderer had received a couple of resounding blows
‘on the face.”
“Very goud!
did ir?”
. Yes, general. This morning’he fought in de-
fence of his hero, whom by the, way he has never
seen, and wounded his antagonist, but carried away
by his ardor; he ran apon his opponent's sword,
and received @ dangerous wound on ‘the breast.”
. What a misfortune! Why, I love the brave boy
already. .You must introdaee me to him.”
“Yes, if he survives.”
“But who was the general’ insulted “sett,
and so boldly avenged: to- day ”
ope general.”
And it was the Tittle painter that
‘ ’ -
The general bounded like a wounded lion.
“I! morblea! Why did you not tell me direct-
vf dy? (This brave boy is dangerously wounded for
my sake, and I sitting quietly at breakfast! Quick’!
Norbert. Baptiste, my hatand gloves! Let us be
off at once to see the painter.”
Duvernay ran down stairs, followed by Nobert,
. and jumped into a coach that was passing.
“Rue du Buffault,” said the captain.
, “And gallop for your life,” cried the general.
“Jf you kill the horses, { will pay you for them.”
In less tan five minutes they were at their jour-
* ney’s end. The two friends climbed six flights of
stairs, and the general, Puffing for breath, entered
. | noble forehead !
After break: | "4
The artist was on the bed, pale and covered with,
blood. The. surgeon, who: had Just dressed - his
wound, was still with him.
“Tow is -he, doctor?” toqaired parvernays anx-
iously, | “Is he dead 2 Is he aliv
“He will recover sir, with rent care.”
“Care! care! ‘That shall not be wanting.”. The
general approached ‘the bed, shuddering.» “Why.
be i is dead !”
“No, sir, I will answer for that. ‘IIe fainted with
loss of blood, and has not yet recovered his senses.”
Davernay gazed on him for a.moment. in mute
emotion.» Then pressing ‘Nobert’s hand, he said,
pointing to the wounded youth, “A fine head! A
Whata misfortune if he had been:
killed, and for me!, We must.take him’ to my
house.” .
Tn three months time, the. general sat gayly at
breakfast with his young friend almost convales-
cent.. Leaning his two elbows on the: table, und
looking full at the youth, he said, “Let us be frank.
what is your name ?”
“Paul.”
“That is all?”
“That is all.” 4 ‘
“It is short; but no matter. “ Yoursparents ?”
“T have none.’ I am an orphan.”
“And you have nothing 2” ;
fOnly hope and resolation.. I fiave been told
that I have talent, and hope with time and latior—”
“Yes, yes,-a great deal of both.” ‘And while wait-
ing for fame and wealth, you live in a gurret, and
with inspiration on your brow your poor toes will
be nipped with the frost. That will never do.—
Come, how did you get to know me 2”
“Like everybody. Besides, two years ago I was
intimate with a neighbor, an old officer, who served!
ler you, named Bertrand.” °
“T recollect him. He died a short time ago.”
“He told me your story, all your deeds of cour-
age, of daring, of goodness ; without knowing you,
I Joved and admired, I heard you insulte~d——”
“You rushed like alion upon the calumniator.
Good! Tlike such enthasiasm Under’ Napoleo
you would have made a smart officer; but now
days to keep’ guard in an ante: ‘chamber, itis better’
to forget that you wear a sword atall. Now listen
to nie, ‘my lad; Lain getting old,'am’ a bachelor
without. children, or near relations ;" } you must re-
gnain with me.”
“But, general-
“There are no buts in the caso. “I am your tom-
manding officer; obey, , Besides, you may work
and still beéome a great painter, a Raphael if you
Tike; Ishall not object, *Your first pictares shall
adorn my drawing-room. : You shall have a sepa-
rate suite of apartments with a painting-room ;—
you shall be as free as air—to | work when you
like”
= “Oh, but general :
“Fiddlestick ! no buts. Have you a right to ex-
pose yourself to be killed for me, and have I not a
right to enable you tolive? ‘Jadopt you for my son.
You have no name. Well, here is one ready-made
for you—Paul Davernay. It is as good as another.”
’ Tears of emotion suffased the young. painter's
eyes. “Oh, general! my blood, my life, allgis
ours, I accept your name with joy and pride,
and J swear to you to try.and make it . as glorious
in the arts,as you have rendered it in war, ard
even then I shall have done | nothing towards repay-
ing you.”
\“Parblea! Iishould “Tike to: know if it i is not I
who am the person gbliged ? Living alone, with
t
pe We pty
Jno one to care about me, yhen I could nog reernit
a few old soldiers, I was obliged. to dine alone in
front of thése old bottles, I was unable to empty.—
Now yon shalt help me. In a word, I wanted
somebody to love, somebody to love -me.”
“Like a son,” cried Paul, and giving way to his
feclings; he embraced his benefactor, °
' Henceforward Paul was regarded in the general's
house a3 his son, and though the malicious steered
at the adoption, and regarded ‘it as an atonement
for a peccadillo of ‘his youth, the worthy soldier
langhed, and gave Namselt™ no uneasiness on that
account.
Time flew on. Paul made great progress in his
the painters eine hes
art, and his pictares displayed a richness of volor
and splendor of execution; the reflection as it were
of his happiness.
Some friends of, Duvernay, witnesses*of the suc
cesé of the young artist, recommended a journey
through Italy.“ “Faith,” cried the general, “you
are right. I have seen Italy, it is trae, but it. was.
amidst the noise and smoke of battle, and when the
fight was over, I thought of little else"than. the
prétty girls and good .wine., Now, in Paul's * com-
pany, I should see things with different eyes, What
do you say, Paul ?”
! “Indeed, general, I am afraid to form awish, you
‘reso prompt to gratify me; but, to say the truth,
Ihave long wished to visit aly, that: holy and,
where artis revenled in all its splendor. |’
“Tn three days we will start,” said the general.
The slight tinge of melancholy, which often
shaded the brow of Paul, gave way to exuberant
joy. Who can be sad at twenty years of age, with
the imagination of a poet, the head of ‘a painter, a
good traveling carriage .and:the prospect of mak-
jing the tour of one ofthe most beaatifal countries
in the world, with the best of friends and lensy of
money in his pocket?’ -
© They talk of Rome, Yes,” said: “the general, one
evening preceding their departure, “we shall ‘seo
the eternal city, as it is called ; but you will allow
me, I hope, to make alittle halt at a° place where
my heart wonld rot have objected to taking np its
winter quarters.”
“TTow so, general 2” inquired Paul.,
“may as well tell you. Loni soit qui mal y pense.
Two leagues from Lyons, on the Swiss road, there
is a little country house by-the water-side, a beaa-
tiful spot.’ Ia the troubles of 1815, I eommanded
a brigade at Lyons, and was at one time compell-
ed to make’ the villa in question my head-quarters.
Its mistress, the Baroness de Luchon, was a wid:
ow, She could not have been more than-twenty-
twoycars of age, Beautifal as an angel, full’ of,
wit, perfect in her manners, she did the honors of
the house with a graceful melancholy,;
a deep impression upon me. I remained there six
days, and my poor heart became more and ‘more
on
‘Jenthralled. : It was for the first time in my life—
Bat this woman, with her gentle smile, her pensive-
ness, which I attributed to the recent loss of her
husband, and large dark” eyes,’ which smiled. so
he when I tried to speak of love, closed my
. I left her to return to Lyons, asking permis-
sion to visit her occasionally, She consented, and
previonsly to my quitting Lyons, I had seen her
several times.”
: “Then you spoke'to her of your love .,
“Why, yes, bat Iwas as bashfal as a recruft—
After a few skirmishes I found the fortress wjthout
a’ weak point, and felt that there was no hope for
my forlorn-hope.”
“But, general, with such a name. as ‘yours——"
“Yes, myname, if Thad been free to ‘0 give it,
t——” a ,
“Bat bat?” . Se .
“Oh, that is a long story ; I will tell it some day
At present Iet us drop the subject. Since ‘then 1°
have seen her several times; last autumn ‘I paid
her a visit, and'I think she is as handsome, as wit
ty and as agreeable as ever. Itisto’see-her that
we are going. Ihave written-to her about” you,
told her of your gallant «ondact } and! she has
warmly ‘congratulated me on finding a son to
smooth the approach of old age.’ I have promis-
ed to prosent you to her.”
We pass over the ‘details of the j journey “ti our
travelers approached the villa of the baroness. The
general could not conceal his emotion. He laugh:
ed and talked loud, and seeing ‘a ‘slight ironical
smile playing on the hips of his rome companion,
cried,
“Well, sir, so “ou are Taaghing at mea gray:
beard of fifty, an‘old patched,repaired soldier, yen-
turing to let his heart beat on approaching a ‘tady’s 's
bower, \ Well, it is droll ; j it is not exactly ‘love,
but something better, Ithink, @ good solid friend.
ship.”
; At length the little chateau appeared in sight.—
In five minutes the carriage stopped, and’ the gate
was opened by an old ‘servant, who received the
travelers as expected and weleome guests, |
~ “How are you, Pierre? ? said the general, “and
. “60h, general, my mistress will be s so o glad to seo
you! I think she is coming.”
Duavernay rushed up the steps, and Paul follow: ~
ed, smiling at his juvenile ardor. * As the former
placed bis hand upon the glass handle of the hall
door, it opened and the baroness appeared.. She
was radiant with joy, and held out her hand to hia,
which he carried to his lips quickly. .¢ ’
hich made .
“At length, my friend. You were wrong to re-
main sq, eng. without coming to see Your poor “Te-
cluse.” ,
She said ‘this as she returned to the arawing”
room, without thinking ‘of even looking at. her
friend’s adopted son, .
Paul, meanwhile, saw that the general's praises .
of ‘the baroness were not exaggerated, and hae she
P vias really a beautiful woman.:
Though thirty.six years of age, she ‘might easily.
have passed for twenty-cight, her manners were 50
admirable, her air ’so charming.
“And my poor Paul, whom I had almost forgot.
ten,” said the general,: taking ‘the young man’s’
hand; “my son, madame, my beloved son.”. : 4
The baroness smiled sweetly gs she turned her *
eyes towards Paul, but scarcely had she beheld. ,
him, when she uttered a cry, rashed forward, aad
then stood motionless before him, and gazed stead- ~
fastly but painfully upon his agitated face. .
Durernay looked ‘on with amazement, and his _
adopted gon could * make nothing of the strange
scene, : \
“In the name of Heaven,” said she, i ina . trombe,,
‘
ling voice, “who are you m Your mame! you
namie !
. “My name—Paut’ » replied ae young man, agi-:
tated, though he knew not w
“Paul is not a surname— yout mother 2"
“I scarcely knew her,” answered Paal, wal, and
I never knew her name,”
“You were not born in ‘France Mtn Thos
“No, madame? j..0 0 toy ato
“Where then 2” woes
“Spain”;
“Oh my God! near Bergara”, “ésntinned - the «
baroness, whiose violent emotion was every moment
increasing. atte
ax es, madame, near Bergara.”
“To a poor inn, where you remained ‘until “three:
years old?”
“Yes, yes, it was there hat I twice “returned ia '
search of my mother:” : ‘
> “Oh, my.son! my Pablo my son r we
; “My mother }”,
.The baroness sank into her child’ ‘sarms, to whom.
she clung in a sort of rapture, and then fainted. 5
sete! help !: cried. the general, palling the:
tee
=
7 servants ran in, terrified.
* “Parbleau !” erfed he, “you move I tke. tortoises ; ;
your mistress has fainted away.”, ..
\ Paul had carried his mother’ to the sbi, andy | ‘
knecling before her, wept, and called npon her , : :
name. By slow degrees she recovered, and, pass-
ing her arm around her son’s neck, covered him.
“with kisses and tears. a
SMy son ! my adored child! Thou whom I ‘have :
mourned for daring eighteen years, How could I,
be deceived ! i Theliving image of his father—his
father so. mneh’beloved, so pitiless as ta rob me of ,
thy child! 7, let me | behold thee! + After s0-
mach sorrow, I cannot “believe ,in. such bappi :
ness.” :
+ Big tears trickled ‘Gown the general's cheeks. 7
’! At length the baroness arose, and, stretching ont
ber hand to Duvernay, cried— ;
“For these two years, general, you have deen ae
father to him; my affection was well placed on the”
man destined | to restore me my child.” .
“Parblea ! Baroness, you make me too happs :
» “But tell me, my “child” continned Madame |.
Luchon, “why-did you leave Spain %- Your father ro
ooMy father ! Thave only seen dim. once in my :
Tifey”
© *Only once in your life What do you say? ”
i“My history i is a short one, AImast have been
about five years old the morning you Teft me alone 2
fora moment. A man.came to fetch meas if from
you; ‘since then I beheld you no more. - oT was 'ta- °
ken to a fine house, in. Madrid, I beligve 5 ; they gave.
me toys and caressed me much, but I was ever ask-. - .
Iyour mistress, my good fellow? r
. } ing for, you and weep! ing. Every morning the at
