marble brow, the waxen lid closed over the once bright and laughing eye,
and the cold grave for its rest had won the child.




Chapter XIX


[Text missing.]




Chapter XX


If riches could bring happiness, John Anderson should be a happy man;
and yet he is far from being happy. He has succeeded in making money,
but failed in every thing else. But let us enter his home. As you open
the parlor door your feet sink in the rich and beautiful carpet.
Exquisite statuary, and superbly framed pictures greet your eye and you
are ready to exclaim, "Oh! how lovely." Here are the beautiful
conceptions of painters' art and sculptors' skill. It is a home of
wealth, luxury and display, but not of love, refinement and culture.
Years since, before John Anderson came to live in the city of A.P. he
had formed an attachment for an excellent young lady who taught school
in his native village, and they were engaged to be married; but after
coming to the city and forming new associations, visions of wealth
dazzled his brain, and unsettled his mind, till the idea of love in a