Tribune and telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1855-1856, 1855-07-19
Prom the Chicago Journal.
Give them something beautiful to remem
hcr

Give them something beautiful to remem-
Der.
"Good night!' loud clear voice from the
top of the stairs said that; it was ToMsiY's-
I "Dood night murmurs little something from
the trund!e bed--a little something we call J EN-
one or two pretty large hearts. Good night
sps little fellow in plaid rifle-dress, who was
christened WILLIE about SIX years ago.
Snow lay me down to sleep.
a- pray the Lord my soul to keep;
/ If should die before / w-a-k-e"-
and the small bundle in the trundle bed has drop
ped off to Sleep but an Angel will finish the bro
ken prayer for her, and it will go up sooner than
many long-winded petitions that set out great
while before it,
And so it was GOOD Night all round the old
homestead, and very sweet music if made too in
the twilight, and very pleasant melody it makes
now as we think of it; for it was not yesterday
nor the day before, but a long time ago--so long
that Tommy is Thomas somebody Esq, and has
forgotten he was ever boy, and wore what the
bravest and the richest of us can never wear but
once if we try-the first pair of boots So long
ago that Willie must stoOp when he crosses the
Threshold; so long ago. that Jenny has gone the
way of the old prayer she was saying, for saying
another, she did before: fell asleep as She said
! it, and never walked more. Good night to thee
Jenny-goOd night
1AHu 81 ~ WIS Eoou night All rOunu the mouse,
and the children had gone through the ivory gate
always left little ajar for thein-through into
the land of Dreams; or through the golden one,
they call Beautiful" into the land of Angels
| So they are all scattered and gone, and the old
house is tenantless, and there is nobody there to
say good night, and nothing but the rain to come
| IN, and the birds that have built them nest
among the broken stones of the hearth and the
| sheep that take shelter from the pitiess storm
under the ono wall that is whole; and yet, now
we think of it, there is wonderful dignity about
| the old place. Its rooms We're not very spacious;
| precious little tapestry adorned the walls; the
caves were low and messy and gray, but did we
not beg in TO live and to love and to hope thercl
Did not the old homestead have very much to do
with the fashioning of our thoughts? Was it not
as if an humble mould, for the shaping of our
fancies? Did we not bear away with us whcr-
ever We went, a cabinet of pictures that were
painted there! Have you forgotten what shape
less thing it that used to Turk in the dark at
the top of the stairs, always in wait to catch you
on your way to bed, but never doing it! And
what long drawn sighs used to come moaningdown
the garnet, and what trailing garments rustled
along the garnet floor. How we fanced it was
a lady in a castle-a lady fair and young-and
wc so many champions to sound the buglc at the
gate, and bear her safe away. For then we had
read "The Scottish Chiefs" and ''Thaddeus of
Warsaw" and the Duke of Gloster saw fewer
Richmonds III the field than there were Wallaces
of us then-each one with Marion or a Helen
to bless him.
| Then the tales that DOLLY told us round the
kitchen fire, when she had ''donc up the work
and ''donc up her hair, and swept up the hearth
and sat down to her sewing. Then it was we
gathered round, and besought her for n story
OF ghosts, or witches fairies, or little wonder
full children that lived long time ago, and be-
came very beautiful or very brave or very some
thing that ace longed to be. How we would have
delighted to be Robin Hood, and live in the woods,
and wear array of Kendall green. How wcwish-
ed we had been lack the Giant Killer or Richard
Whittinton, or Cinderella, or somebody she told
us OF. But when she told Us of ghosts in white
that made no football when they walked; OF their
hands, how cold they We're; of their laugh how
giittering and CHASTITY it was have you forgotten
how We drew little nearer, as the tale went OH,
and thought the light was burning dim and blue,
and begging her to stir the sleeping fire, and dare
not look behind us where the shadows were, and
tancied something sighed or spoke, and syllabled
our names. Each voice subsidized to whisper
all but Dolly and she went on, with castles grim
and spectrcs dim and dungeons deep, and ladies
along the lcngthening hem. At last one of us is
throncd upon her lap; another bcgs TO lay his
head therein, and still the tale goes on.
The clock is on the stroke Of nine, and how we
dreaded the last shrill chime. 1t came, we went
reluctantly to bed. How dark the hall was; and
the door must be left open little; and Dolly
are you therc?" and Dolly good night, and Dol
" something, Just to hear her speak, came from
under the quilts we had drawn over our heads,
and we wondered what ratified the window, and
what shook the bed, and didn't You feel some
thing cold hear something step, and how we
all wished we were asleep, OF it was morning, or
the sun shonc all night; How suffered then
and nobody knew it, and nobody babe us be
brave.
Well, years have passed, but we build castles
us did then, and feel just such great cold shad
ows used to Turk in the hall, and people them
with forms no eye has ever seen. Tn" memory
should not be tomb, place for ghosts to rcvis
it the glimpses of the moon in, but beautiful
place. full OF recollcctions of sunshine and love-
illness.
There should be something beautiful about
homestead-a beautiful pictures beautiful brook,
beautiful tree. memory with glorious naples
in it, and running stream, and an old well off
crystal water and roof with vine on it, and
caves with birds i'll them, and n pasture full Of
daises-what a lovely place it must be, indeed,
to think that in January we can always have
June; in an Arabia Petrea, an 'Araby the Blcst.
Mothers always look beautiful to children they
make picture for memory'S cabinet, that "thc
old masters never equalled But then, they
should be in beautiful setting. Let there he a
broad hearth and an ample fire place i'll tho old
homestead, if you do shut up the fire in iron box
es, or look at it through CRATE. Get cord or
two of old maple, and handful two OF old
beach for a fen dc JOE, and basket or twoof old
fashioned chips, and keep them all for winter
birthdays and Christmas ewes and New Years
nights and get an old fashioned body to build all
old fashioned fire, and blow out the candies or
"turn off " the gas, and gather within the circle
of the hearth light, and tell pleasant tales, and
smile pleasant smiles. So you will give the chill
dren something beautiful to remember, for believe
us, such picture in such light will never fade
out from the God-woven canvas that hangs i'll the
heart.
Lightning's Doings. "a
Pending the storm on Sunday evening the