Kentucky Gazette

A WEDDING.

The bride turned a little pale, and then a little flushed, and at last had just the right quantity of bright becoming color, and almost shed a tear, but not quite, for a smile came instead, and chased it away. The bridegroom was warned not to forget the ring, and all were assembled around the altar. "I will," was uttered in a clear, low voice, and the new name written-and Sophy Grey was Sophy Grey no more; and she turned her bright face to be looked on, and loved, and admired by the crowd of relations and friends surrounding her; and they thought that Sophy Stockton was still dearer and prettier than even Sophy Grey had been; and then the carriages were entered, and the house was reached. Sophy walked into her father's house, her childhood's home, her home no longer —and the bridal dress was changed, and the travelling dress took its place, and all crowded around her-her father, the mother, the sister, the brothers, all crowded round her to say good-bye, to look and look on that dear face once more, to feel that her fate was sealed, to pray that it might be a happy one-to think that she was going away, away from home, away with a stranger! and tears and smiles were mingled, and fond looks and long embraces, and a father's mingled tear of joy and sorrow was on her cheek, and the sister's tear, that vainly tried to be smile, and the mother's sobs--and Sophy Grey left her father's house, left it with the bright beam of joy and hope upon her brow, and in another moment the carriage door was closed, the last good-by uttered-and Sophy was gone.

Oh! how melancholy! how lonely does the house appear, where but a moment before all had been interest and hurry! Who has not experienced the deserted sensation, when those we have been accustomed to see are gone-when the agitation, the interest at parting, is over- the forlorn, empty look of the room-the work box, the drawing materials, the music, all gone—or perhaps one single thing left to remind us how all was-a flower, perhaps, that had been gathered and cast aside--the cover of a letter which had been scribbled over in the forgetfulness of the happy conversation.-U. S. Gaz.