BISSELL, AND BISSELL'S CAMP. 213
Without, everything seemed rejoicing in the beauty of the long, sweet, sun- ny day, from which the intense heat of the noon-time had already departed, leaving only a flood of mellow light, a delicious sense of sweet perfumes, and an unreal, dream-like music from myriads of delicate sounds filling all the air around, faintly shadowing the lingering coming of the cool, still night.
But the girl saw not the beauty, heard not the gladness, felt not the bene- diction of nature's great peace ; as walking swifdy, hke one pursued by some dread shadow, she traversed the well-worn foot-path across the meadow-lands, beyond which was a narrow belt of wood-land, and still beyond, the quiet waters of the sleepy river ran lazily by, as they went on to meet the sea. Here, on the shore, close by the gleaming river, Janet and Arthur had spent many happy care-free hours in their joyous sunny child-hood. Here too, when perplexed and disheartened the girl older grown, had come for comfort and for rest. And now, hardly thinking of whither she was going, walking mechanically on, with only an involuntary longing to leave the unrest and heavy heart-ache somewhere, she found herself once more by the lapsing waves that knew neither trouble nor care in their calm, placid depths. She sat down on the shore, and looking out on the tranquil happy river, she wondered vaguely why, when everything around was so peaceful, though the air was so still, and only the "lesser notes of nature " could be heard ; yet for her there was only this sense of utter weariness and awful desolateness.
Presently she became aware of a figure coming towards her along the shore ; a slight solitary figure, which at a glance she recognized. Would he pass on without seeing her? For a few moments she thought so, then the steps came nearer, and finally ceased at her side. At the first approach, the rich warm color had rushed in one great flood upon the young girl, dying cheek, brow, and even down to the slender, graceful neck, a rosy red ; but had as suddenly receded leaving the face of the silent watcher colorless as marble.
"Janet ! " At the sound of that little word, so tenderly, strangely uttered, the girl sprang up with a glad, sweet cry of recognition.
" Janet " the young man said slowly, taking both the eager, outstretched hands in his, with his glad eyes upon her face, " I am come for my wife, is she ready for me now, Janet? "
Well, it was only the same old story told again there by the smiling, happy river ; but hence forth there would be no more loneliness and desolateness for litde Janet, no more long, weary days devoid of hope ,dark without beauty ; for although the coming days might be like all foimer days in their tedious, endless routine, yet however toilsome life might be, it would still be beautiful, for love the harmonizer, love the beautifier, had touched it with his wonderful magic wand.
��BISSELL, AND BISSELUS CAMP, AT WINDHAM, N. H.
��RY LEONARD A. MORRISON.
AMONG the most eccentric persons who ever resided here was F. L. Bissell. The most romantic place was his camp, so famous when stand- ing in its glory, and so well remembered since its decay. The personage and the place have become historic.
In May, 1823. F. L. Bisseli, then nineteen years of age, came to Windham. He was an East Indian, or Malay, a native of the Isle of Sumatra, and came 2
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