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Stowe contributed to the "Atlantic Monthly" a touching little allegory, "The Mourning Veil." In December, 1858, the first chapter of "The Minister's Wooing" appeared in the same magazine. Simultaneously with this story was written "The Pearl of Orr's Island," published first as a serial in the "Independent."
Meanwhile she had been tempted into beginning a story for "The Independent," which proved to be "The Pearl of Orr's Island," a story good enough, if she had been left to herself and not overridden by greedy editors and publishers, to have added a lustre even to her name. It is to this she refers in the following letter when she speaks of her "Maine story."
Orr's room, present my credentials, and obtain the money while he wrote the letter with which his mind was full.
How this friendship ripened into love, and love into courtship, it is not for us to inquire too closely. Something has been told already in Mrs. Orr's 'Life of Robert Browning; something more is told in the long and most interesting letter which stands first in the present chapter. More precious than either is the record of her fluctuating feelings which Mrs.
That it has been brought out once more, well illustrated, is something which will give pleasure to thousands who have long desired an opportunity to read the story again, and to the many who have tried vainly in these latter days to procure a copy that they might read it for the first time. THE PEARL OF ORR'S ISLAND. A story of the Coast of Maine. By Harriet Beecher Stowe. Cloth, 12mo.
The sight of a toiling wagon supporting a huge barrel caused her to change the subject rather abruptly. "That's Jacob Merrill's team," she said, craning her neck. "What on earth has he got in that hogs-head?" "He's headed for Lydia Orr's spring, I shouldn't wonder," surmised Mrs. Daggett.
Other books followed from her pen: Dred, a powerful anti-slavery story; The Minister's Wooing, with lovely Mary Scudder as its heroine; Agnes of Sorrento, an Italian story; the Pearl of Orr's Island, a tale of the New England coast; Old Town Folks; House and Home Papers; My Wife and I; Pink and White Tyranny; and some others, all of which have been widely read.
Orr's Island, with its blue-black spruces, its silver firs, its golden larches, its scarlet sumachs, lay on the bosom of the deep like a great many-colored gem on an enchanted mirror. A vague, dreamlike sense of rest and Sabbath stillness seemed to brood in the air.
"So your thoughts were gloomy; well, I don't wonder at it. There are gloomy things happening. I was out driving, and thought I would look in at Mosquito Reach. It has been razed to the ground." "You have been to see and help young Orr's mother and sister? I know it.
So when, at the end of three years, he arrived suddenly at Brunswick in the beginning of winter, and came, all burning with impatience, to the home at Orr's Island, and found that Mara had gone to Boston on a visit, he resented it as a personal slight. He might have inquired why she should expect him, and whether her whole life was to be spent in looking out of the window to watch for him.
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