THE THIRD LETTER.
POOR RICH LITTLE EVA.
For Anna.
Dear Anna:—I have lately been reading a book full of pure and beautiful thoughts, called "Vernon Grove," and the other evening I became acquainted with the authoress. She is a most lovely lady, dignified and graceful; and I had a very delightful conversation with her about books.
In Vernon Grove there is a short story about a dear little girl, which story interested me so much, that I asked permission of the authoress to copy it out for you. Here it is, somewhat enlarged and altered, but the main parts just as she wrote it. I know, dear Anna, it is exactly such a tender, sweet story, as will most gratify your affectionate heart; so it is yours, with a kiss from your loving
Aunt Fanny.
"POOR RICH LITTLE EVA.
"On a curtained bed, in a darkened chamber in the city of Charleston, not many years ago, lay a beautiful lady, pale—almost dying; but, oh! how happy, for her earnest prayer had been answered, and God had at last given her the blessing of a child, and the little tender life was even now nestling soft as a rose-leaf in her bosom.
"It was late in the sweet spring-time, which in that southern country is so beautiful. A hushed and joyous stillness reigned in the house, but every lip was smiling, from the good old black cook, who was 'so grad missis ben got her heart's desire,' to the funny little fellow with his wool standing up in kinks all over his head, who ran of errands, and who evinced his delight by walking on his kinky head all about the yard.