Hanna Lay

At the foot of the Alleghany Mountains stands the flourishing villageof Hollidaysburg. On the banks of the blue Juniata, that winds on tillit buries its waters in the rolling Susquehannah, stood the elegantmansion of Esquire Clinton, the village lawyer. He had lost his youngwife many years since, and Henriette, his only child, shared largelyin the affection of her father. Her every wish was gratified, and shewas educated in the fashionable etiquette of the place. She was theguiding star in the fashionable circle in which she moved, and ageneral favorite.

hanna lay

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