The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1850-04-13
For The Cecil Wing.
Straw Lettors.-N0. I.

~ u RAINY uAyS uedI amy anu
work is out Of the question. After break
fast looked after all my pets; first the
plants-the Gsraniums, and Roses were
watered, and the dry leaves picked care
fully off-then, old Nero asked for, and re-
eeived his accustomed pat, and "good dog
Nero" for which, he aff.ctionately licked
my hand and accompanied me to the nur-
sery. Little Charley clapped his hands
with delight a, he saw US enter, doubtless
anticipating ride up,n Nero's back.
After leaving the nursery I came to
my own little room, seated myself in my
large armchair, drew the cricket for my
feet, and took up the purse am netting
for birthday present to Henry-bu, the
gay twist and bright beads made my eyes
ache---and the pattsring rain falling upon
the roof below my window, wosd me, in
such a musical voice 10 shut my eyes and
listen, that could not refuse. So the
rain drops, told me pleasant stories, OF long
ago recalled sweet remembrance Of
childhood-brough before me bright faces,
and murmered loving words IN my ear,
and did not tire OF listening, but they,
the waywald things, grew weary of,falk-
ing to gray haired old lady, and thei:
gleeful clatter soon changed to more
quiet tone, and by degrees died away INTO
perfect silence. But they left me not
alone-they had conjured up, thousand
memories; spirits Of the past were all
about mel loved their presence and
would not they should leave me. So, I
opened my casket and brought forth my
gems my jewels-my relics OF the past
old letters, faded flowers, locks Of hair,
and many a token OF affection and remem-
berance. Oh Fanny! love dearly to
scatter them before me, and listen to the
tales they tell me. Perhaps one Of these
days l will repeat to you some Of their
muFmur'ngs-sac, they may sometimes
be. but still sweet Oh! how prize them !!
The's 10Y ksepsakes, and my tokens.
Ar look them Ger aud ar,
Swse,ly, sadly do they IN mo
OF the friends loved Of yore---
Of the lostthat are no more.
Here are letters without number
Rom the dear "ncssgon away,
SOrne in deaths cold arms 10 slumber,
Some IN distant lands 10 stay
.3N are with the here to-day.
Tor they ipe in these naementoos,
And there never meet. my eye
w,ther-'; f"wer--a lock-a letter.
But deem that each is nigh;
Round me, ~ in days gone by.
Th. little lock Of curling hair,
As gaze upon it now,
Springing lightly up before mo
lsa girl with sunny brow
All! she is All angel now!
We were school mates once together,
And we loved cnch other well;
She was always gay and happy
TIL, at length, there cane . spell
OfI her heart a shadow fell.
Then she faded slowly-sadiy,
Az the flowers in Autumn die,
ZACH day grew her cheek 1t il! palsr,
Aud still brighter grew her eye
Then wc knew that she must dire.
All! Fanny my old eyes have not for
gotten their childish trick OF weeping.
Poor Mary. it is more than forty years
since they laid her fair head IN its resting
place. The leaves from the old willow
that bends over her have fallen, Oh 80
many times, upon her bed; the SHOWS of
many winters have covered her grave, the
flowers bloom-d, and the birds sung above
her Tor many summers, yet see her TO
day, as l saw her SO long ago. Her gold
en- hair falling about her sweet innocent
iace-her blue eye bright with laugh
ing tenderness, and her heart, Oh !!
% light and happy. And here, Fanny,
let me stop, ere sorrow, disappointment or
treachery, have shadowed her brow,
dimmed her eye, or made her heart hea w.
Sems other time we may look at the sad
pictdre-now we will remember only
the bright. ELLEN Cray.