Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1854-04-13

FANNY FERN IN THE ToMBs.-Fanny
Fern has visited the Tombs. Hear
what she says about it, in the N. Y.
Musical World and Times:
i am weary of this hollow show and
glitter-weary of Fashions stereotyp-
ed lay figures, of smirking fops
and brainless bellies, exchanging their
small coin of flattery and their endless
genuhexions: Let us go out of Broad
way---somewhere--anywhere. Turn
round the wheel, Dame Fortune, and
show up the other side.
"The Tombs!" we never thought to
be there! nevertheless, we are not to be
frightened by grated door or stone
wall, so we pass in; leaving behind the
soft wind of this Indian summer day, TO
lift the Autumn leaves as gently as does
a loving nurse her dropping child.
We gaze into the narrow cells and
draw long breath. Poor creatures,
tempted and tried. How many to
whom the world now pays homage, who
sit in high places, should be in their
stead? God knowest. See them with
tehir pale faces pressed against the gra-
ted windows, or pacing up and down
their stone floors, like chained beasts.
There is little boy not more than ten
years old; what has he done?
Stolen pair of shoes!'
Poor child! he never heard of 'Swart-
wout' How should he know that he
was put in there not for stealing, 5ut for
doing Il on so small a scale!
Histl Do you see that figure seated in
the farther corner of that cell, with his
hands crossed on his knees? His whole
air and dress are those of a gentleman.
How came such man as that here?
For murder? how sadl Some where
in the length and breadth of the land
mothers heart is aching because she
spared the rod to spoil the child
There is coffin, untenanted as yet,
but kept on hand; for death laughs at
bolts and fetters, and many poor
wretch is borne struggling within these
gloomy walls, only to be carried to his
last home, while none but God may
ever know at whose freside stands his
vacant chair. H'
And here is womon's CELL There
are two or three faded dresses hanging
against the walls, and a bonnet for
which she has little use. Her friends
have brought her some bits of carpet
ing, which she has spread over their
stone floor, with her womanly love of
order, (poor thing) to make the place
look honas-Iike And there is cruci6x !
in the corner. See, she kneels before
it. May the Holy Virgins blessed Son.
who said to the shining one, neither do
l condemn thee,' send into her stricken
heart the balm of holy peace.
Who is that? Mol it cannot bel
but, yes it is he-and what wretch
See, he shrinks away and bright flush
chases the marble paleness from his
cheek. God bless mel That R
should come to thisl Still intemper-
ance, with her thousand voices, crieth,
'GiYe! giyel' and still, alasl it is the
gifted and generous, and warm-hearted,
who oftenest answer the summons.
More cells?-5ut there is no bed in
them; only a wooden platform raised
over the stone floor. 1t is for gutter
drunkards-too dull, too loathsome to
be placed upon bed-turned in here
like swine, to wallow in the same slough
Oh, how few, who, festively slipping the
rosy wine, say ing mountain stands
strong e'er dream of such an end as
this. 1afa. r;.7 I sH sur3 z
3 Look therel tread softly: angels are
near US. Through the grated window
the light streams fall family upon ut.
tie pallet where sweet as dream oil
heaven lies sleeping babel Over its
cherub face a smile is fitting. The
cell has no other occupant; angels only
watch the slumbers of the prison Graded.