Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1840-02-17
ON A BAD SINGER.
'MISCELLA Ian ECU S.
From the Christian Keepsake for 1910.
TIE PURITAN SABBATH.

Sketch from Note Book of an elderly Gentleman
BY MRS. HARRIET q. STOWE.
The Puritan Sabbath--is there such thing ex-
listing now or has it gone with. the things that
WERE TO he looked at Il curiosity in the museum
of the past Can any one in memory, take himself
back to HE unbroken stiffness of that day, and re-
call the sense of religious awe which seemed to
brood in the very atmosphere, checking the merry
laugh Of childhood, and chaining in uhwonted
stiffness the tongue Ofyolatile youth, and lmparng
seven to the sunshine of heaven, and the uncon
sciols notes of animals tone of its own gravity
and repose? lfyou cannot remember these things
go back with me to The verge OF early boyhooj
and live with me one of the Sabhaths that have
spent beneath the roof ofmy Uucle Phinens F'etch-
er.
Imagine.the long sunny hours of Saturday
afternoon insensby slipping away, MS we young
sterS are exploring the length and breadth Of n
trout stream, or chasing grey squirrels, or building
mud mill dams in the brook. The sun sinks low
er and lower; but we still think it does not want
half AMI hour to shutdown. At last he SO evidently
is really going d0iCn that there is no room for
skepticsm or latitude Of opinion the subject
and with pany lingering regret we begin to put
away our fsh-hooks, and hang our hoops over our
arms, preparatory to irudgi bomeward.
'Oh Henry, don't you wish Saturday afternoons
lasted longer p said little John to me.
Il do saws cousin Bill, who was never the boy
TO mnce matters in giving his sentiments; 'and
4gvoul!'nt care ii Sunday didn't come bu, once q
year.
TOh, Bill, that's wicked, Pm afraid says little
conscientious Susan, who, with her doll in hand
was coming home from Saturday afternoon Wis
it.
Cant help it, says Bill, catching Susans bag
and tossing il in the air; / never did like TO s
still and that's why hate Sundays.
Hate Sundays. OBJ Bill! Why Aunt Kezzy
saws Heaven is an eternal Sabbath only think Of
thalp
sWell, know / must he pretty different from
whit am now before could sit still for ever sal,
Bill. in lower and somewhat disconnected tone
as if admitting the force of the consideration.
The rest of us began TO look very grave, and Il
think that we mnst get to liking Sunday SOM
time or other, or il would be a very bad Thing 10
MS. As we drew near the dwelling, the compac
and business like form of Aunt Kezzy was see
emerging from the house to hasten our approach
How often have | told you, young ones, not II
STAY out after shutdown on Saturday night? Don
YOU know its the same as Sunday, you wicked chill
dren you? Come right into the house, every on
of YOU, anu never let me hear of such Thin
again i?
This was Aunt Kezzy s regular exordium ever
Saturday night, for we children being blinded, a
she supposed, by natural deprayliy, always mad
strange mistakes in reckoning time on Saturda
afternoons. After being duly snppered and scrub
bed, we were enjoined 10 go 10 bed and reinemoe
: that tomorrow was Sunday, and that we must ne
laugh and play in the morning WIN many
sorrowiul look did Susan deposit her doll III IN
Z chest, aud give one lingering look at the patel
work she was peiclng for dolly's bed, while WI
liam, John, and myself empted our pockets of n
shperAuous fsh-hoolss, bits OF Irvine, pop gun
slices of potato, marbles and all the various item
ofboy properly, which to keep us from temp.'