The Woodville Republican. [volume] (Woodville, Miss.) 1847-1853, 1850-05-14


ther reads to Peggoity aud me in there, how
Lazarus was raised up from the dead. And
! am so frightened, that they are afterwards
Obliged TO take me out of bed, and show me
the quiet churchyard ont of the bedroom
window, with the dead all lying in their
graves at rest, below the solemn moon.
There is nothing half so green that l
know anywhere, as the grass of that church.
yard; nothing half so shady as its trees;
nothing half so quiet as its tombstones.
The sheep are feeding there, when / kneel
up, early in the morning, in my little bed in
a closet within my mothers room. TO look
out at it; and l see the red light shining on
the sun-dial, and thiak within myself, as
the sun-6ial glad, wonder, that it can tell
me the time again."
Here is our pew in the church. What a
high-backed pew! With a window near
it, out of which our house can be seem
and is seen many times during the morn
ing's service by Peggotty, who likes to make
herself as sure as she can that it's not being
robbed, or is not in flames But though
Peggotty's eye wanders, she is much oflen-
ded if mine does, and frowns to me, as |
stand upon the seat, that | am to look at
the clergyman. But can't always look at
him-I know him without that white thing
on, and | am afraid of his wondering why |
stare so, and perhaps stopping the service
to inquire-and what am | to do? It's a
dreadful thing to cape, but must do some-
| thing. look at my mother, but she pre-
tends not to see me. look at boy In the
aisle, and he makes faces at me. | look at
the sunlight coming in at the open door
through the porch, and there see stray
sheep don't mean sinner, but mutton
half making up his mind to come into the
church. | feel that if | looked at him any
longer l might be tempted to say some
thing out loud and what would become of
me then! | look up at the monumental
tablets on the wall, and try to think of Mr..
Dodgers late Of this parish, and what the
feelings of Mrs. Dodgers must have been,
when affiiotion sore, long time, Mr.. Bod
gers bore, and physicians were in vain
wonder whether they called in Mr.. Chilip,
and he was in vain, and if so, how he likes
to be reminded of it once week. | look
from Mr.. Chilip, in his Suhday neckcoth,
to the pulpit and think what good place
it would be to play in, and what castle it
would make, with another boy coming up
the stairs to attack it, and having the velvet
cushion with the tassels thrown down on
his head. In time my eyes gradually shut
up, and from seeming to hear the clergy
man singing drowsy song in the heat
| hear nothing, until | fall off the seat with a
crash, and am taken out, more dead than
alive, by Peggotty.
And now see the outside of our house
with the latticed bedroom-windows standing
open to let in the sweet-smeling air, and
the ragged old rocks nests still dangling in
the elm-trees at the bottom of the front gar.
den. Now | am in the garden at the back
beyond the yard where the empty pigeon.
house and dog-kennel area very preserve
of butterflies, as remember it, with high
fence, and gate ard paddock; where the
fruit clusters on the trees ripper and richer
than fruit has ever been since, in any other
garden, and where my mother gathers some
in basket, while stand by, boiling fur
tive gooseberries, and trying to look unmo-
we'd. A great wind rises, and the summer
is gone in moment We are playing in
the winter twilight, dancing about the Iar-
lor. When my mother is out of breath and
rests herself in an elbow chair, watch her
winding her bright curls round her fingers,
and straitening her waist, and nobody knows
better than do that she likes to look so
WE'LL and and is proud of being SO pretty.
!, After while, this beautiful mother oi
David's dies, and he is brought from school
to attend the funeral When it was over
and he goes home, dear Peggotty tells him
of how she died. But let him tell his own
story.
1t is over, and the earth is filled in, and
} we turn to come away. Before us stands
; our house, so pretty and unchanged, so link.
ed in my mind with the young idea of what
: is gone, that all my sorrow has been moth.
ing to the sorrow it calls forth. But they
, take me on; and Mr.. Chilip talks to me
and when we get home, puts some water tc
) my lips and when ask his leave to 90 ur
to my room, disnlisses me with the gentle
4 ness of woman.
All this, say, is yesterdays event
; Events of later date have hoated from me
| to the shore where all forgotten things vii
} reappear, but this stands like high rocE
: in the ocean.
knew that Peggotty would come to me
: in my room. The Sabbath stiffness of the
3 time the day was SO like Sunday. have
!. forgotten that) was suited to MS both. Sh,
t sat down by my side upon my little bed
and holding my hand and sometimes put
5 ting it to her lips, and sometimes smoothn,
$ it with hers, as she might have comfortet
!, my little brother, told me, in her way al
I, that she had to tell concerning what hat
J, happened.
!. "She was never well, said Peggotty, "fo
" a long time. She was uncertain ia he
II mind, and not happy. When her baby wa
Any I he n