Burlington hawk-eye. [volume] (Burlington, Iowa) 1845-185?, 1851-04-10
Early Friends.
Where are they? @

EafIy FflenGS. saa
Where are they? o5 ..1e ..,sv@ ...&' a.. s
I / cannot sit now as once, upon the edge
of the brook, hour after hour, hinging of
line and hook to the nibbling roach, and
reckon it great sport. There is no girl
with auburn ringleis 10 sit beside me, and
play upon the bank. The honrs are short
er than they were then, and the little Joys
| tha, furnished hoyhood till the heart was
full, can fill il no longer. Poor Tray is
dead, long ago, and he cannot swim into
| the pools FOR the floating sticks; nor can
| sport with him hour after hour, and think
it happiness. The mound that covers his
grave is sunken, and the trees that shaded
it are broken and messy.
Little Lilly is grown into woman, and
is married; and she has another little Lii
ly with ilaxen hair, she says-lo looking as
she used TO look. dare say the child is
pretty; bu. it is not my Lilly. .@She has a
little boy, too, that she calls Paul "a club
by rogue, she writes, and as mischievous
as ever | was. God bless the boy
| Ben, who would have liked ride in the
coach that carried me away to school
has had a great many rid. s since then
rough rides and hard ones, over the road
Of life. He does not rake up the falling
leaves for bonfires, as he did once; he is
grown man, and is fighting his way some
where in our western world, TO the short
| lived honors of time. He was married
not long ago; his wife remembered as one
Of my play mates at my first school: she
was beautiful, but fragile as leaf. She
died within year Of their marriage
Ben was but four years my senior; bnt his
grief has made him ten years older. He
does not say it, but his eye and his figure
show it. saE @a
The nurse who put the purse in my hand
that dismal morning, is grown feeble old
| woman. She was over fifty then; she may
well be seventy now. She did not know
| my voice when / went to see her the 9TH
er day, nor did she know my face at all.
She repeated the name when told it to her
Paul-Paul, she did not remember any
Paul, except little boy long while ago.
TO whom you gave purse when he
went away, and told him TO say nothing 10
Lila or TO Ben?' @@
Yes tha, Paul'-says the old woman
exui,ingly-'do you know him.
| And when I,old her-'she would not
have believed it!' But she did and then
took bold Of my hand again, (for she was
blind, and then smoo,hed down the plaits
OF her apron and logged her cap strings 10
| look tidy in the presence of the gentle
man. and she told me long stories abou.
the old house and how other people came
in afterwards, and she called me sir some
times, and sometimes Paul but ! asked
her 10 say only Paul; she seemed glad for
this, and talked easier, and went on TO tell
Of my old playmates, and how we used TO
ride the pony-poor Jacko!-and how we
gathered nuss--such heaping piles; and
how we used 10 play at fox and geese
through the long winter evenings, and how
| my poor mother would smile--but here
asked her to stop! she could have gone on
much longer, for | believe she loved our
house and people better than she loved her
| own. ~-r@ a@*@4 a@5 aaa .a
As for my uncle, the cold, silent man,
who lived with his books in the house up
on the hill, and who used 10 irighien me
sometimes with his look; he grew very
feeble after had left, and almost crazed.
The country people said That he was mad;
and Isabel with her sweet heart, clung 10
bin, and would lead him out when his
step ,o,tered, 10 seat in the garden, and
read TO him out OF the books he loved TO
hear. And sometimes they told me she
she would read to him some letters that
had written TO Lilly or TO Ben, and ask
him if he remembered Paul who saved her
from drowning under the tree in the mead
ow. Bn, he would only shake his head,
and mutter something about how old and
feeble he had grown. -. ...c
They wrote me af,erward that be had
died and was buried in far away place,
where his wife once lived and where he
now sleeps beside her. Isabel was sick
with grief, and came TO live for time
with Lilly; but when they wrote me last,
she had gone back 10 her old home
where Tray was buried where we had
played together SO often, through the long
day Of summer.
was glad should find her there when
| came back. Lilly and Ben were beth
living nearer TO the city, when | landed
from my long journey over the seas; but
still went to find Isabel first. Perhaps
had heard so much oftener from the 9TH
ers, that felt less eager 10 see them or
perhaps--U did think i,)--perhaps ]
loved Isabel better than them all.
So wen, into the country, thinking all
the way how she must have changed since
left. She must be now nineteen or
twenty; and her grief must have sadden-
ed her face somewhat but l thought
should like her all the better fer that
Then perhaps she would not laugh, and
tease me, but would be quieter, and wear
a sweet smile-so calm and brautiful l
thought. Her fguretoo must have grown
more elegant, and she would have more
dignity in her air. ...5 AZ s..-s.
/ shuddered ali,tle al this; for ! thought,
she will hardly think SO much of me then
perhaps she will not like me a. all yet
knew very well that should like her.
had gone up almost TO the house;
had passed the stream where We iished on
that day, many years before; and thought
that now, since she was grown to woman
hood, l should never sit with her there
again, and surely never drag her as did
out of the water, and never chaie her lit
tie hands, and never, perhaps kiss her, as