"Of all the joys that brighten suffering earth,What joy is welcom'd like a new-born child."—MRS. NORTON. A merry scene in the nursery at Viamede, where the little Travillas are waiting for their morning half hour with "dear mamma." Mammy coming in smiling and mysterious, her white apron thrown over something held carefully in her arms, bids the children guess what it is. "A new dolly for me?" says Vi; "I'm going to have a birthday... more...

"For wild, or calm, or far or near,I love thee still, thou glorious sea."—Mrs. Hemans."I bless thee for kind looks and wordsShower'd on my path like dew,For all the love in those deep eyes,A gladness ever new."—Mrs. Hemans. It is late in the afternoon of a delicious October day; the woods back of the two cottages where the Dinsmores, Travillas and Raymonds have spent the last three or four months are gorgeous with scarlet, crimson... more...

CHAPTER I. It was about the middle of November. There had been a long rain storm, ending in sleet and snow, and now the sun was shining brightly on a landscape sheeted with ice: walks and roads were slippery with it, every tree and shrub was encased in it, and glittering and sparkling as if loaded with diamonds, as its branches swayed and tossed in the wind. At Ion Mrs. Elsie Travilla stood at the window of her dressing-room gazing with... more...

CHAPTER I. The shades of evening were closing in upon a stormy March day; rain and sleet falling fast while a blustering northeast wind sent them sweeping across the desolate-looking fields and gardens, and over the wet road where a hack was lumbering along, drawn by two weary-looking steeds; its solitary passenger sighing and groaning with impatience over its slow progress and her own fatigue. "Driver," she called, "are we ever going to arrive... more...

CHAPTER I.                     "How happy they,Who from the toil and tumult of their livesSteal to look down where naught but ocean strives." —Byron. "Well, captain, for how long have you Uncle Sam's permission to stay on shore this time?" asked Mr. Dinsmore, as the family at Ion sat about the breakfast-table on the morning after Captain... more...

CHAPTER I. It was a beautiful evening at Viamede: the sun nearing its setting, shadows sleeping here and there upon the velvety flower-bespangled lawn, and filling the air with their delicious perfume, the waters of the bayou beyond reflecting the roseate hues of the sunset clouds, and the song of some negro oarsmen, in a passing boat, coming to the ear in pleasantly mellowed tones. Tea was over, and the family had all gathered upon the veranda... more...

CHAPTER I. Crag Cottage was almost overflowingly full the first night after the arrival of its young mistress and her friends, but with a little contrivance all were comfortably accommodated. Most of them, weary with their journey, slept rather late in the morning, but Captain Raymond and his eldest daughter were as usual out of doors—out in the grounds—early enough to enjoy the beautiful sight of the rising of the sun over the... more...

CHAPTER I. It is a busy, talking world. —ROWE. "I think I shall enjoy the fortnight we are to spend here, papa; it seems such a very pleasant place," Elsie remarked, in a tone of great satisfaction. "I am glad you are pleased with it, daughter," returned Mr. Dinsmore, opening the morning paper, which John had just brought up. They—Mr. Dinsmore and Elsie, Rose and Edward Allison—were occupying very comfortable quarters in a... more...

CHAPTER I. "O married love! each heart shall own;  Where two congenial souls unite,Thy golden chains inlaid with down,  Thy lamp with heaven's own splendor bright."LANGHORNE. "There, there, little woman! light of my eyes, and core of my heart! if you don't stop this pretty soon, I very much fear I shall be compelled to join you," Edward Travilla said, between a laugh and a sigh, drawing Zoe closer to him, laying her head... more...

Chapter First. "Meantime a smiling offspring rises round,And mingles both their graces. By degreesThe human blossom blows, and every day,Soft as it rolls along, shows some new charm,The father's lustre, and the mother's bloom."—Thomson's Seasons "Mamma! Papa too!" It was a glad shout of a chorus of young voices as four pairs of little feet came pattering up the avenue and into the veranda; then as many ruby lips were held up for the... more...