The Heiress.
{"newspaper_name": "The Columbian fountain.", "edition": "01", "page": "p1", "byline": ""}
{"character_count": 1372, "word_count": 246, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9807999730110168], "ccnet_perplexity": [1147.0], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
sprightly, rosy-cheeked, flaxen- haired
little girl, used to sit in the pleasant even
ings Of June, on the marble steps, opposite
my lodgings, when | lived in PhiIadel phia,
and sing over hundred little sonnets, and
tell over as many tales, in sweet voice,
and with an air Of delightful simplicity,
that charmed me many a time. She was
then an orphan child, and commonly re-
ported to be rich. Often and often sat,
after day Of toll and vexation, and listen
ed to her innocent voice, breathing forth
notes Of peace and happiness, which flowed
cheerfully from light heart, and felt por-
ton Of that tranquility steal over my bo-
som. Such was Eliza Huntly when first
saw her.


Several years had elapsed, during which
time I was absent from the city, when
walking along one Of the most fashionable
squares, saw an elegant female figure step
into carriage, followed by gentleman
and two pretty children. ] did not imme-
diately recognise her face, but my friend,
who was by my side, pulled my elbow.
Do you not remember little Eliza, who
used to sing for us when wa lived in Wal
nut street did remember--it was herself.


She used to be fond, said he, Of treating
her little circle Of friends with romances
herself. She came out into the gay circle
Of life, under the auspices ot her guardian,
It was said by some she was rich--very
'Flch-bpt the amount ofwealth did not ap'