Liberty advocate. [volume] (Liberty, Miss.) 1835-1866, 1843-09-23
From the Ne,O York Mirror.
OCCASIONAL THOUGHT
AT ODD HOURS ON OLD TINES.
BY MRS. v. X. II.


And in his courtesy he would have IN
.,rpc,ed me in all the changes which hav
,sksn Mace in Boston since left il and m
childhood, for | seemed 10 lose both Z
them together; but would not have hear
him for The world. ! haze longed TO re
viSi, It but now, unless we're going 1
live there so that in time might learn {,
love it as it is, would not 60 there to dis
strange il from my mind just as It va
when | was a child. There is one advan
tage | have over those who remain still
in their frs. home--nsne o. those alter
atoms and improvements, so delightful
doubtless 10 those who make or profit BY
them, but which so soon sweep away al
old associations, none Of these effect me-
10 my minds eye it still remains the same
dear old city.
Even before quilted it, however, ar
iron railing had displaced the comfortable
wooden one, on the top Of which | had SC
often sat TO see fireworks. "One can't
sit on those sharp spikes" that was my
thought at the improvement. II Rome
could belong TO Yankee population for q
year or two, what Improvements they
would make; how many smart, new brick
buildings would be erected on the sites Of
its present ruins!
wonder--mind, don't want to know
---bu, wonder if Hancock's house stands
yet? 1t should be bought by the town,
and carefully preserved as curious mon
ument OF "Those brave days of DID,"
Would the tongue had been dumb that
told mo that the old-fashoned wooden
house in which | passed part of my
childhood is torn down, and handsomer
one erected in its stead. Oh! how many
pleasant memories are connected with
that roomy old house! To begin, Gas
houses are not often begun with,) at the
top, the little attic whore the rocking horse
stood--oh, what merry hours were spent
there! A. in the saddle, as was his
right both from primogeniture and pro-
prietorshiP, myself and cousins seated on
the rockers--a substantial concern was
that rocking-horse, none Of your modern
gimcracks that would have broken all to-
pieces with our weight: would that | had
It now, (all worn as II was, pieces of its
hide stripped up, and wanting an eye,)
Tor my boy to ride on! No rocking-horses
here for love or money.
Then the parlour, with its large mir
Yors and its pictures! Oh those pictures
Of 1--we stately ladies, dressed just in the
present fashion, with their long-peaked
waists, though painted nearly two cen'u-
ries ago! Beautiful they were too, espe-
cially her with her hair parted simply on
her beautiful forehead, and osebuds on
her Sosom! And the mild, benevolent
looking old gentleman, father, belive, 10
the beauty and that other, yet older
looking, though grandson to him first
mentioned, how well remembered his
pleasant smile, and almost looked TO have
the hand drop the book and be stretched
out kindly to pat my head! would give
more than their value for these old pic
lures, as, besides my liking for them, they
were my (ar.back ancestors. Then the
breakfast room, how full-how full it is
Of the far off and tho dead! The kind,
placid aunt, and that good grandmother,
handsome, upwright, and digni6ed, with
Q colour on her cheek, and bright blue
eyes, eighty-four years Of age! Young
ladies', will give you cosmetic IN one of
kcr lectures to me: ''sit straigh: in your
chair, child, and don't sit with your face
to the fire; sit away from the fire if you
wish to preserve your complexion! But
''they are gone, they are all gone!' The
old house is gone, even the good old name
Of the street is gone--it is all fremont
street now! You remember Nassau-streei,
Friend Willis?-Ah, and you remember
the quiet old house Of the Miss Byles', IN
the same street, with its velvet lawns
and its magnificent trees; that, dare say,
10 gone too, with all Other relics oil old
times! A mysterious old mansion was
that to us children, with no inhabitants
but those fat old women, who, to our tan
cies, resembled wax figures escaped from
their cases! Every body has heard oil
Dr.. Byles, Of revolutionary memory; a
violent tory was the Doctor; it was he who
mounted guard over himself at his own
house; he was poet, too, and composed
that hymn at sea, so ludicrously parodied
by Joseph Green; he was more than this
--more than poet, and preacher, and tory,
was the Doctor--he was humorIst, and
as great lover Of mischief as the veriest
echoclboy. His puns were acted out.
heard my granmother, who was well ac'
quainted in the family, tell many queer
taleaof his eccentricities, which | have
seen in print; perhaps, if they were "just
naade-uP stories," as the children say,
they would scarce be worth reading; but