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                           GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.
               VOL. XXXV.      October, 1849.      No. 4.


                           Table of Contents

                 Fiction, Literature and Other Articles

          A Year and a Day
          The Engraver’s Daughter
          Jasper St. Aubyn
          The Recreant Missionary
          Minnie Clifton
          Ibad’s Vision
          A Harmless Glass of Wine
          The Village Schoolmaster
          An Adventure of Jasper C——
          Effie Deans
          Wild-Birds of America
          Editor’s Table: The Means of a Man’s Lasting Fame
          Review of New Books

                       Poetry, Music, and Fashion

          Alice
          The Fountain in Winter
          A Parting Song
          The Light of Life
          The Bride of Broek-in-Waterland
          Song
          Northampton
          A Thought
          Speak Out
          The Willow by the Spring
          We Are Changed
          Le Follet
          I Love, When the Morning Beams

       Transcriber’s Notes can be found at the end of this eBook.

                 *        *        *        *        *

[Illustration: L. Clennell, pinx.       A. L. Dick sc.

THE BAGGAGE WAGGON.
Engraved Expressly for Graham’s Magazine.]




                           GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE.

         VOL. XXXV.     PHILADELPHIA, OCTOBER, 1849.     NO. 4.

                 *        *        *        *        *




                           A YEAR AND A DAY:


                              OR THE WILL.


                      BY MRS. CAROLINE H. BUTLER.


                               CHAPTER I.

There was once in the city of Philadelphia a poor author whom chilling
disappointments and the biting stings of adversity had brought nigh the
grave—whose high hopes, ardent ambition, and glowing aspirations for
fame, were all quenched and broken beneath the pressure of penury and
wo. The wife, too, of his bosom had passed on to the shadowy land before
him, and now beckoned him to that blissful home beyond the grave where
sorrow and trouble are unknown. One fond tie still bound him to life. He
was a father. No other guide—no other friend had that fair young girl,
over whose innocent head scarce sixteen summers had flown, and for her
sake he still clung to a world whose charms else had long ceased to
attract.

And there was an old man whom the world called unfeeling and miserly,
who day by day passed by the humble home of the author. And day by day
as he passed along, saw at the window a pale young face bent over the
endless seam, and a small white hand never tiring busily plying the
needle. Or sometimes marked the child’s own feeble strength tasked to
support the tottering steps of suffering manhood to the open window,
that the air of heaven might revive that languid frame, while the
hollow, racking cough, and the fever spot on the cheek, like a rose
rooted in the grave and blossoming in beauty above, told too plainly
consumption had made its victim sure.

And then one day when the window was darkened, and he missed the pale
young face, the heart of the old man smote him as he passed along, and
turning he gently sought admittance, and from that time over the bed of
the sufferer the thin, white locks of the old man mingled with the
golden ringlets of Florence.

Heaven surely had first softened his heart, and then guided his
footsteps thither, for, like a ministering angel he came to the house of
sorrow to soothe the last moments of the dying man, and protect the
fatherless child.

Cheered once more by the voice of kindness—his feeble frame invigorated
by healthful nourishment—surrounded by comforts long unknown, or
remembered but as a dream in the dark night of poverty he had passed
through—what wonder the sick man rallied, and for a time gave way to
the flattering hope that he might yet leave a bright legacy to his
child—a name crowned with imperishable fame. His mind, long shattered
by sickness, caught back something of the fire of youth, and once more
his trembling hand seized the pen as the powerful instrument through
which riches and honor were to flow in upon him. But, as the meteor
which for an instant shoots over the wave in sparkling beauty, and then
sinks in the darkness of the fathomless gulf below, was the momentary
out-flashing of that once brilliant mind, ere the darkness of the grave
encompassed it.

When he felt the