Not many years since--and yet long enough to have been before the
abundance of railroads, and similar speedy modes of conveyance--the
travelers from Amboy village to the metropolis of our republic were
permitted to refresh themselves, and the horses of the stage had a
breathing spell, at a certain old-fashion'd tavern, about half way
between the two places. It was a quaint, comfortable, ancient house,
that tavern. Huge buttonwood trees embower'd it round about, and there
was a long porch in front, the trellis'd work whereof, though old and
moulder'd, had been, and promised still to be for years, held together
by the tangled folds of a grape vine wreath'd about it like a tremendous
serpent.
How clean and fragrant everything was there! How bright the pewter
tankards wherefrom cider or ale went into the parch'd throat of the
thirsty man! How pleasing to look into the expressive eyes of Kate, the
land-lord's lovely daughter, who kept everything so clean and bright!
Now the reason why Kate's eyes had become so expressive was, that,
besides their proper and natural office, they stood to the poor girl in
the place of tongue and ears also. Kate had been dumb from her birth.
Everybody loved the helpless creature when she was a child. Gentle,
timid, and affectionate was she, and beautiful as the lilies of which
she loved to cultivate so many every summer in her garden. Her light
hair, and the like-color'd lashes, so long and silky, that droop'd over
her blue eyes of such uncommon size and softness--her rounded shape,
well set off by a little modest art of dress--her smile--the graceful
ease of her motions, always attracted the admiration of the strangers
who stopped there, and were quite a pride to her parents and friends.
How could it happen that so beautiful and inoffensive a being should
taste, even to its dregs, the bitterest unhappiness? Oh, there
must indeed be a mysterious, unfathomable meaning in the decrees of
Providence which is beyond the comprehension of man; for no one on earth
less deserved or needed "the uses of adversity" than Dumb Kate. Love,
the mighty and lawless passion, came into the sanctuary of the maid's
pure breast, and the dove of peace fled away forever.
One of the persons who had occasion to stop most frequently at the
tavern kept by Dumb Kate's parents was a young man, the son of a wealthy
farmer, who own'd an estate in the neighborhood. He saw Kate, and
was struck with her natural elegance. Though not of thoroughly wicked
propensities, the fascination of so fine a prize made this youth
determine to gain her love, and, if possible, to win her to himself.
At first he hardly dared, even amid the depths of his own soul, to
entertain thoughts of vileness against one so confiding and childlike.
But in a short time such feelings wore away, and he made up his mind to
become the betrayer of poor Kate. He was a good-looking fellow, and made
but too sure of his victim. Kate was lost!
The villain came to New York soon after, and engaged in a business which
prosper'd well, and which has no doubt by this time made him what is
call'd a man of fortune.
Not long did sickness of the heart wear into the life and happiness of
Dumb Kate. One pleasant spring day, the neighbors having been called by
a notice the previous morning, the old churchyard was thrown open, and
a coffin was borne over the early grass that seem'd so delicate with its
light green hue. There was a new made grave, and by its side the bier
was rested--while they paused a moment until holy words had been said.
An idle boy, call'd there by curiosity, saw something lying on the fresh
earth thrown out from the grave, which attracted his attention. A little
blossom, the only one to be seen around, had grown exactly on the spot
where the sexton chose to dig poor Kate's last resting-place. It was a
weak but lovely flower, and now lay where it had been carelessly toss'd
amid the coarse gravel. The boy twirl'd it a moment in his fingers--the
bruis'd fragments gave out a momentary perfume, and then fell to the
edge of the pit, over which the child at that moment lean'd and gazed in
his inquisitiveness. As they dropp'd, they were wafted to the bottom of
the grave. The last look was bestow'd on the dead girl's face by those
who loved her so well in life, and then she was softly laid away to her
sleep beneath that green grass covering.
Yet in the churchyard on the hill is Kate's grave. There stands a little
white stone at the head, and verdure grows richly there; and gossips,
some-times of a Sabbath afternoon, rambling over that gathering-place of
the gone from earth, stop a while, and con over the dumb girl's hapless
story.