The Belmont chronicle, and farmers, mechanics and manufacturers advocate. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1848-1855, 1853-03-04
COMING HOME.

Glad words! The waters dash upon the
Prov Of the gallant vessel. She standsi on
the deck and the winds WOO her rinplets a.
she looks anxiously for her head lands of home.
In thought there are warm kisses on her Inns.
soft hands on her temples. Many arms press
her to throbbing heart, and one voice sweet
er than all the rest whispers, "My child."
Coming home! Full to bursting is her heart,
and she seeks the cabin to give her oy vent
in blessed tears.
Coming home! The best room is set apart
for his chamber. Again and again have low
ing hands folded away the curtains, and shook
out the snowy drapery. The vases are filled
every day with fresh flowers, and every even
ing t:emulous, loving voices whisper, ale
will be here tomorrow, perhaps" At each
meal the table is set with scrupulous care.
The newly embroidered slippers. the rich
dressing gown, the study cap that he will like
so well are all paraded to meet his eye.
That student brother! He could leap the
waters, and fly like bird home. Though he
has seen all the splendor of olden time, there
is but one that fills his heart, and that spot
he will soon reach. "Sweet home.,''
Coming home! What sees the sun brown
ed sailor in the darklng waters! He smiles
There are pictures there OF blue-eyed babe
and its mother. He knows that even now his
young wife sings the sweet cradle song:
For know that the Angles will bring him to me-
He sees her watching from her cottage door:
he feels the beat of her heart in the pulse of
his own, when familiar footfall touches only
the threshold of memory.
That bronzed sailor loves his home, as an
eagle whose wings seek oftenest the tracks
of the air, loves best his mountain eyry. His
treasurers are there.
Coming home Sadly the worn Californi-
an folds his arms and sinks back upon his fe
veret pillow. What to him is his yellow
gold. Oh, for one smile of kindred But that
may not be. Lightly they tread by his bed
side, watch the dim eye, moisten the parched
lips.
A pleasant face benls over him-a rouph
palm gently pushing back the moist hair, and
a familiar voice whispers, "Cheer up nv
friend, we are in port, you are going home"
The film falls from the sick mans eve.
Home, is it near! Can he be almost there,
A thrill sends the blood circulating through
his limbs-what Shall he see those dear
eyes before the night o. darkness settles down
forever! VIII his babes fold their little arms
about him and press their cherry lips to his?
What wonder ifnew life and vigor gathers in
that manly chest! He feel. strength in every
nerve, strength to reach home-strength to
bear the overwhelming joy of meeting those
dear ones.
Coming home! The very words are raptur-
GUS. They bear import of every thing sweet
and holy in the domestic lile-nay more, they
are stamped with the seal OF heaven, for the
angles say Of the dying saint, ale is coming
home" -
SUICIDE OF A LONDON MERcHAsr.-Mr.
Leschallas the paper maker, says an English
journal, who for many years carried on an
extensive business as paper maker and whole
sale stationer, in Bude Row, Waiting street,
London, committed selfdestruction on Monday
morning, by shooting himself through the
head, in his warehouse in Sse-ane During
the last nine months MIR Leschalas, who
was about 81 years of age, has labored under
a deluson that his business was going to
ruin and hirnselfto poverty, whereas, in fact,
matters were the reverse, for his affairs,
recently gone into, exhibit large capital in
reserve after all claims and liabilities had
been cleared. 1t was stated that he had
ES0,oOo in stock, besides 100000 in bills in
hand; yet he was cOGstanl,l complaining of,
aud persisting in his approaching insolvency.
Twice or thrice during the time specified he
was thwarted in attempting to shoot himself,
An inquest was held by Mayne, the coroner
and verdict of temporary arrangement
raturned. a..