Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1854-10-26
For the Fayetteville Observer.
And this is what is left Of Youth.
"BY BILLY B."


Yes, and all that's kft-said a
poor drunken sot as he sat dreaming
over the dying embers Of his last
armfull Of wood. Only <shink--just
twenty short years ago, hnd l was
sehool-boy; trudging backwards and
forwards to school-young, light
hearted and happy, with prospects
much brighter than one-half of my
school mates. ] had a wealthy and
indulgent fat1sf, fond and boating
mother, and being the eldest was
somewhat of a favorite, of which /
took much advantage to exercise my
own will. Could the events of the
past twenty years be summed up and
stricken from the book of memory
could the wheels Of time be rolled
backwards and I be made boy
+again-ten worlds like this, were
they mine, would freely give to be
once more a child. And we'll do /
remember the last day I spent at
school. That was a sorrowful day
for me. The master, just before dis
missing US. bid US all adieu in the
most touching and affecting language
| ever heard from the lips of any
man. True, ] was young then and
more easily aft ected than / would be
now; but the wealth of this world, if
laid at my feet, would I freely give
to shed those tears once more. AS
We left the sch dollhouse, we, one by
one. shook hands with him, and each
I in turn received some friendly admo-
milton and kind advice; but few Of US
howey er we're able to make any reply.
Our young hearts we're too full for
uttera nee. AT length my turn came
to bid him farewell; and as i APP
preached him ! inwa rdly resolyed to
make some reply to whatever he said
to me; but I reckoned beyond my
power. When he took hold of my
hand with his cordial grasp, he said,
William! all through life's coming
years remember that you do nothing
that would give your mother pain. !"
He knew me-and also knew be
could not have touched tenderer
CHORD. My overweight feelings
now burst forth like volcano, md
Selling my hat | rushed out of the
house and sat down at the root of all
cid elm tree that stood against the
side of the house, and wept freely for
some time. All! l was happy then,
for all those tears seemed childish.
Would to God / co uld shed them
again. But those halcyon days are
gone now, and l am thirty-two years
of age. ] have a wife too, whom /.
dragged from wealth to poverty
from responsibility to the vilest dis
grace; who feeds and clothes me,
even drunkard that ] am. She
too has shed tears, as numberless as
the stars, for my reformation, but like
the wave upon the rock they made
no impression. Would the knowl
edge of this pain my mother? Ger
tainly it would. Then let her rest
in ignorance-fo for the heart knows
no pain half so sickening as the
consciousness Of a child's disgrace
"And this is what is left of YOUTH
said a gray-haired old man as he tot
tered feebly down the road of life,
upon whose shoulders the weight of
years sat heavily. Infancy, with all its
prattling, childish innocence, gave
place to youth with wild dreams of
ambition and fame, which in tuln re-
tired before the numberles cares and
perplexities Of manhood:
at is the past that maketh my despair;
The dark. the sad, the irrevocable past.
Aiasl why should our lot in life be made,
Before we know that life? Experience comes,
But comes too late. If Icould now recall
All that ] now regret, how different
Would be my choice? At besta choice of i'll;
But better than my miserable past;
Loathed, yet despised, why must think of it?''
Every youthful "Reminiscences seems
fraught with twice the pleas ure it
ever gave before, and now that I am
old | can but look back over the sun
ny memories Sf days gone by,and see
n thought That | once enjoyed in
reality. Phus, young reader, it may )
'ne day be with you. Every day you '
ire adding some spice to embalm the
Of the past, or gall to make
bitter its recollection. And so things
move from generation to generation, q
md from century to century, for all e
Kings earthly must change.
Winchesfnr Tenn Oct 10 '5d |.