The Port Gibson reveille. (Port Gibson, Miss.) 185?-1857, 1854-06-21

with tho middle aged. Of the Present, =. with
the young, Of the Future. We hope 10 have
tear for those who arc in tears to rejoice
with those THAT rcjoice.- to love those who
love and have kind word for the
down-trodden everywhere. With the Miss
We may talk # well. our confessional is
sacred from prying eyes, and VIC viii talk Of
what We please. for there are fountains in the
heart which never freeze oer, and garnercd
memories which are greenly growing deep
down from the worlds rude gaze.
Come in. then. we will mako ourselves
at home. If we laugh at the follics Of the
outer world, none viii be the wiser for it,
Some cars may tingle while we are together,
= but everybody talks about everybody, and
It viii 20 hard with US if We do not have our
say as we'll as the rest. Certain we are that
wo shall not meet any one with smiles and
ridiculc and abuse the moment the door IS
closed. Tobacco eaters and smokers earnest
y requested to leave their filthiness at the
door or bring their spit-boxes with them.
We arc not about to murmur, for We have
real bonafde troubles enough to murmur
about; but it does m, after the most patient
and careful consideration Of the matter, that
the clerk Of the weather has been Careless
Here il is going on to the last Of April,
and VIC have hardly had sunshine enough TO
warm our hearts. And yet We know that
there is some wise purpose in all this. He
doeth all things we'll" We are not CON-
planning = not whit. Only We cannot
help thinking how pleasant 'twoald bo to see
the clear blue sky. and feel its unclouded
sunbeams busy with their golden shuttles
weaving the fresh green garniture Of earth
and hanging il upon every bare fold and
branch. Whilo we write, the sky is dark
and gloomy and tho rain beats steadily down.
The robin, bis plumage dronched and clnging
to his body, SITS silently in the willow and ap-
pears thoughtful and downcast. The patter-
ing rain-drops have a measured and gloomy
tread as they beat on the panes We turn
from day dark and dreary" to greet,
with cordial welcome, the blaze which sings
upon the hearth. and then to the shell which
is within reach. That is moro than half in
clined to give out lonely air. but the
Spring time is coming - that air VIC must
have, or we viii "lay down tho fiddle and
the bow"
Tia here's fg for the rain and the clouds
without, and the sunshine which will not
peep out from its hiding places There is a
rustling by and a musical "ughr' and two
little worlds Of purity are opened upon us.
their blue depths as mild as the blue summer
sky, aud quietly flooding with smiles more
lovely than the golden sunshine. The smile
burst into silvery laugh and the little palms
are lifted impatiently. The room is now full
Of sunshine, and at the freside bud is OPEN
ing to bloom forever. The purely chiseled
features have the impress Of those not vet
forgotten, and mist gathers on the eye while
a bright and beautiful vision comes again
from the shadOwy past. As lovely as this,
bud once opened by our hearth. and VIC loved
il as well. It's fragrance is all that is left US
for il was broken from its stem and by angel
hands transplantcd May this be left long to
bloom by our pathway, for Heaven is full Of
such, and needs it not