The Nevada journal., 1852-02-21
H U N AN LIfE;
Or, the First and Last Minute.

Minntes Pass--The anxiou hus-
band PAGES slowly across his study
He is father--a man-child is born
unto him. Minutes pass; and the
child has been blessed by parent,
whom l cannot recognize, and pressed
to that bosom, to which instinct alone
guides for sustenance the young wife
too has family answered to husbands
questions. and felt his warm kiss on
her forehead.
Hours pass: The low meanings
from the closely covered cradle, tell of
the first wants of its infant occupant.
The quiet tread of the nurse speaks of
suffering around her; while her glad
countenauce says that the very suffer
ing which she is trying to alleviate, is
a source of joy; and the nameless ar
ticles, which from time to time she ar
ranges on the hearth, tell of a new
claimant for the courtesies and atten-
tions of those who have progressed
further on the pathway of existence.
Days pass: Visitors are thronging
the chamber, and the mother, pale and
interesting after her recent sickness,
is receiving their congratulations, and
listening proudly to their praises Of
the little treasure, which lies asleep in
its rocking bed at her feet The scene
shifts, and the father is there with her
alone, as the twilight deepens about
them, while they are planning the flu
ture destiny OF their child.
Weeks pass: The eyes Of the young
mother are sparkling with health, and
the rose blooms again on her cheek,
and the cares Of pleasure and home
engage her attention, and the father is
once more mingling with the world
yet they find many opportunities each
day to visit the young inheritor OF life );
to watch over his dreamless slumber
to trace each others looks in his coun-
tenance, and to ponder upon the fell
city. of which he is the bearer to them.
Months pass: The cradle is DESERT
ed. But the chamber floor is strewed
with playthiEgs, and there is little
one lettering among them whose half
lisped words, ard hearty laugh, and
sunny countenance tell you that the
entrance into life is over pathway of
flowers. The cradle is empty, but the
last prayer of the parent is uttered
over the small crib, which stands by
their own bedside, and their latest at
tention is given to the peaceful breath
ings of its occupant.
Years pass: Childhood has strength
ened into boyhood and gambolled along
into manhood. Old connections are
broken; parents are sleeping in their
graves new intimacies are formed; a
new home is about him, new cares dis
tract. He is abroad, struggling amid
the business of lie, or resting from it
with those whom he has chosen from
his own generation. Time is begin
ming to wrinkle his forehead, and tho't
has robbed his looks Of their gaiety,
and study has dimmed his eyes. Those
who began life after he had grown up,
are fast crowding him out Of it, and
there are many claimants upon his in
dustry and love for protection and sup
port.
Years pass: His own children have
become men, and are quitting him, as
he also quilted the home of his fathers.
His steps have lost their elasticity; his
hand has become familiar with the
staff, to which he is obliged to trust in
his walks. He has left the hustle which
fatigued him. He looks anxiously in
each dave paper among the deaths +;