Phenix gazette. [volume] (Alexandria [D.C.]) 1825-1833, 1828-11-11
JOS. AUG. BEALL.
Pi.calaway, Md Nov. 8, 1928.
From the atlantic Souusair, for 1929.

From the Atlantic Souvenir, for 1929.
am now an old man; but remember as il It
were yesterday, The last evening passed with
d family, who always welcomed me with the
fervor ofyouth 10 their mansion, where was
loved as | shall be loved no more. IL was dis>
tant from the public road and hall hidden by
grove o: white pines; after passing rude gale
among the trees, you saw the house before you
on spacious lawn, surrounded by hedge IN
closing flower garden, & formed OF the sweet
briar and the native thorn. That evening the
ia her was seated before the door, apparently
gazing at tn. red sunset light upon the pines,
VIII lie the children were playing near an uIe
military horse which was soberly gazing on the
lawn. AS | came up, The boy had just succeed
ed In mounting the charger, and had given the
word Of command TO march; 1t was obeved
with sue unlocked 10. spirit, that his poor ri-
der could mol recall the military praise 10 STOP
him, till the horse had cleared the gate, which
stood in the line Of march; when he s'ood as
still as marble a. the word halt pronounced by
the de- D voice Of the father. | came up in time
10 congratulate him uponrhe commencement
of his military career, which his father assured
him had ended more prosperously th-n his
own. The father related to US many OF his adj
ventures during the war which he seldom men
toned, 10 relieve the sadness which we all felt
in thinking of our approaching separation
When The evening was far spent took leave
Of the m; but as returned the manly grasp OF
the fathers hand, and the embrace OF the chill
drens, was oppressed with fore boding sad
ness; perhaps have strong leaning TO super
sutton; nut there was an expression that baum
ed me- long after, in the thoughtful and lovely
face Of be llt,le girl as she babe me an affect
| was returning TO his place after The long
absence have mentioned. The evening Of my
return seemed precisely like tha, Of nv depar-
ture. The sun cast ia long rcd glow upon the
pines; The rusy clouds we're as smoothly painted
In the waters OF the river as in the upper sky,
aud the smoke was rising above the trees,
seeming to the imagination, like that most &C
eeptable sacrifice, the incrnce OF domestic al
tar. Every thing appeared The same; but
knew all could not be he Same. The same 70.
rests were there, in their melancholy beauty; the
same UNCONSCIOUS iiyer as moving in its never
weary How; but there had been lime for fearful
changes 10 pass over he spirit and destiny Of
man. ltelt that strange reluctance 10 approach
the house, which, | believe, men always feel to
re-enter The homes oflneir youth, where his
tory OF sorrow and death may await them
the worst OF whic h they are jmpa lent TO know.
shook The fantnes, from my spirit, howev
er, and W. ked On. The gate was no longer
carefully secured. aud as | came nearer saw
thai the hedge was growing luxuriantly Wild
lew dead fiowrrs appeared here and there a.
mohg the vcrdure Of the garden, and ntima'ed
that the kind hand which cherished them was
gone Without rejecting that other tenants
might he there, opened the door, and on en-
iering 'he little parIour, saw young female,
by pillows, in chair near the win
dow, where the evening light was shining in
Her face was beautiful, though wasted by dis
Ease; death had evidently set his seal deeply |
upon her, the hand Of The statue is not paler
than the one she family extended towards me,
saying: III am glad ha. you are come" From
the movement and the words, knew il must be |
The pensive child had left in almost infan, low |
iness, and much as had been prepared for
changes, my blood ran cold at Witnessing one |
SO awful as this. My heart beat thick and fast |
when enquired for her father and brother: sh.
shook her head, and was answered. But there
was radiancy in her countenance which can.
,ot describe. Though have seen and. felt it
more than once, it gave ne the assurance that
he volume which lay open near her, had reliev.
"a here loneliness and sorrow, & would strengths
m hei 10 enter the vale Of death. She was the
90. VI "e' fanny, anu Iounu tne propneuC
ceiling tina, she was destined to misery, which
lad once haunted me, was now 100 sadly fulfill
ID.
She had known me the moment entered, &
liter recovering little she told me in low
'oIce how happy she was to meet me again.
lad often observed that she listened 10 my con-
ersation with her father, and the changes of
Ter counienance had shown how much she was
Interested Now found that she had embrace
d Christianity as her support; poor girl she
eeded 1t all, before her short journey on earth
vas done. In her childhood, when free from /.
are, she was pale and thoughtful; in the last
tage OF her sad life, she was calm; and but for
ne remembrance, happy, like some star, beau- {
l'ui IN the tears OF the morning, but far love- 3
er in the warm radiance Of the evening sky. q
She told me that her father continued the l
anne for some years after left them. His hair