The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1854-12-02
Grlrft Gkrtll).
From the y. Y. Tribune
THE LEAVES OF AUTUMN.

that live and move on the earth.
Sweeping, sweeping, every day are thou
sand .brooms to gather up the fallen leaves
that have fallen where they are not wanted.
They are never wanted when they fall, and
fallen leaves are always getting into some
body's way, and so the broom is set to work
to get them out of his path, but greater
broom is sweeping down, leaving the limbs
where they were growing SO green and beau
tilul only few days ago, stark and still as
things of death rather than life. Sweep,
sweep, sweep, and still the leaves come down
like the fakes of the first snow of autumn,
only that they have none Of that Wilderness.
And if they had, like city snow, how soon
all that purity would be lost-trampled under
the army of feet that crush the falling leaves
of au tl,mn down into miry bed.
Alas! it is not only the leaves falling from
the trees that are tramplcd under foot. Buds,
blossoms, and frut-the fruit Of human toll
yea, human life, all fall to the earth, and are
swept out of theiway, or tramplcd under foot
--troddcn down into the mirr, where they
perish as the leavcs-the fallen leaves of
autumn. Who counts the tallcn-who cares
where they fall, so they do not fall in our
path, or arc soon swept out Of it
Last ycar-no, it was the year before
when the leaves were falling, we were ont in
the country, where maple leaves, tinted with
gold, and all the variegatrd hucs that make
up the richness of the autumn, in an Amer
lean forest. Ills u glorious sight, which the
painter has often attempted to dclincatc, but
always ending where he bcgnn--in an at
tempt. 1t is Il beauty that must be seen in
the woods, not in the picture gallery.
Among the splcnlors of that scene ofpelcc-
full Joy. when the tinted leaves glittcred like
things of gold, silver, crimson and emerald,
lust before the season of falling leaves, we
met young girl just budding into womanly
beauty. Seventeen times she had seen the
leaves of autumn fall, and the flowers OF
spring blossom into life, and hers was all like
the latter, always blooming, never failing.
No frost had ever touched Il leaf Of her
tree of life-no bird that sings among the
green leaves and fragrant flowers of spring,
was more cheerful and happy than this
:'country girl"
But like nearly all her class she had II long
ing dcsirc-a burning curiosity to come to
the city.
Vainly we tried to satisfy that curiosity by
descriptions ofall that is most curious in this
most curious enchanted isle of Manhattan.
1t was soothing for time, but We fear it was
like the fresh fuel added to the fire, it only
burnt the ircsllcr, after it WIS left to itself
again to slowly kindlc into a blaze.
Because she wore so many tints Of tho ma
plc-bccause her hair was auhurli-hcr eyes
bluc-hcr teeth rcnrl--hcr skin so white and
smooth, and checks so rosy-her voice S"
silvcry, and heart pure as gold-wc called
her the Autumn Leaf.
Time is hccting. How quickly two years
fitted past and brought again the season OF
autumn leaves, but not the remembrance OF
her whom we had in sportvc mood called the
Autumn Leaf; for like others, cherished for
the time, she had faded from our rcmcm-
brancc; until one cvcning-lato hours we
sometimes wandcr-whcn the autumn leaves
drops Of the cold October storm that brought
them down upon our head, and carpetcd the
pavement at our feet, all at once the forgot
ten country scene of two years past came
way. What brought it back, and at such a
timer The falling leaves! Or was it some
magnetic influence connected with that Lc at
of Autumn
light and sunShinc-this all storm and dark
ness. Yet the sight Of that came back so
vivid that it absorbed all thoughts Of the
present, and we went on mechanically We
been waited to the city-had ever had her
curiosity Of city life satisfied.
Mercy Came that voice from earth or air
from flesh or spirit for it was her voice.
once heard, they arc never oIgotten-ncver
change-and no others ever ring upon the
same key.
1t was her voice, whether of earth or air,
and we looked hastily around to see whence
it came. 1t must have come as mysteriously
as the thought of her; and the sunny scene
of home came but minute before. for there
was no one present but poor thing of mise
ry-one of heaven and carth's outcasts, in
human form ard womanly--Once womanly
habilimcnts--cowcring and shvcring close up
in a door way, close to where there was a
warm fireside within, to try to gain little
shelter from the cold storm without. No 9TH
or living voice was near, SO it must have been
a thing of thought-a mere fancy ofthe night;
and so we turned again to pass on, but we
said, though we said it, we thought, too low
for mortal to hear-ssit was her voice."
sIt uas her voice. was echoed back. That
voice again! We could not be mistaken
now. That voice came from the covering
wretch in yonder doorway. That thing of
rags, and dirt, and miscry--so AFFECT, so ut
tcrly administrative the fallen remains of
our Autumn Lcaf-flllen, indeed, down from
her country home, among the tinted naples,
toEthc homeless condition of poor street
vagrant.
What brought her here
Curiosity-,the desire to see the city;--not
to live hero, only little while, till she had
seen the thousand wonders of our busy sire cts