Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1855-10-03
Inmber s.
The old Home on the Hill.

Lie Olu IAOno vi buC 1AAh
As the shadows begin to shorten towards l
the high noon Of life, we all love to look back
and linger on the beautiful morning of our
pilgrimage, when the sun shone through
clouds hcmmed with silver, and when birds
sang never so sweet. A thousand pleasant
and nevor-to-b e-forgotten memories rise up
In the heart and hold the pilgrim a sileut,
spell-bound dreamer until moments, and min
utes, and sometimes hours, fit softly by.
The old Home on the HILL Though we
may be a thousand miles removed, its scene
ny rises up like a pale phantom or n vision.
There was little Theddy and little Lilly, who
every day filed the homes hearts with pleas
ure, and the old home itself with music such
as never was heard before or since. So the
older hearts thought that throbbed only for
them. All it don't seem long, but it must
have been u long time ago-a long, long time
ago for little Theddy has gone out from the
old home and become Theodore What'shis-
name, Esq, and would blush to remember
his little check trowsers that filled him brim-
full of happiness. All a long, long time ago
for there is a full length grave, all grassy
=-aaAgreen, in the old churchyard, and on the
pure white marble slab is written Lilly
Sweet Lilly she fell asleep one evening in
April and walked no more. Lilly will wake
no more till the Angeltrumpet sounds from
the shore where the land and sea doth meet.
Goodbye, Lilly-a long, long Good-bye!-
So, you see, a long time ago little Theddy
went out from the old home through the mos
sy gate a life dreamer, and Lilly went up
through the golden street to the City of BEAU
TY, and lives and sings with the Angels.
1t may be all who were with us in child
hood have left the old home on the hill
some to the rich new lands of the far West
and others to Heaven-but a vision of the
blessed old home still creeps in at the door Of
the heart-always ajar-and we live long
days Of childhood over and over again. None
Of us have forgotten that grim old, ugly boo
gar that we always thought lived in the dark
closet in day time and perched on the top Of
the stairs at night, always ready to catch us
by the heels as we crept off to bed. is the
old picture our Grandmother drew on the
leaf Of the heart of that terrible Raw Head
and Bloody Bones yet dimmed in the dust o
the Past? No, no; the old pictures 0 fchild
hoods morning will grow brighter and bright
or as lifo's shadows lengthen out into the eve
ming.
Oh! have you dared to forget Jenny for
moment Good, simple hearted Jenny, whC
loved us all as though we were her own we,
ones, and who gave us sweet meats with lib
cral hand. Has any one gone so far ava,
as to forget the stories that Jenny told u
around that old kitchen fire, when she ha,
done up the work, brushed dozen the table
swept up the hearth and sat dorm to her knit
ting. Oh how we shivered and crept close
TO Jenny when she told us Of ghosts in tn
grSse yard, Of witches in the chimney. and G
fairies and elfns everywhere. And then hoy
our little hearts grew Drawer and beat stror
ger when she told of little children in olde
times who were very beautiful, and who ha
wicked grandmothers that folks said wer
witches, who became very brave, very rio
or very something that we would have give
oil the sixpences in our little purse to hay
been. What would we have given to hay
been Jack the Giant Killer, Cinderella {
Robin Hood, and live in the big woods an
wear an array of Kendall green? But Oh
when Jenny told us of ghosts and COLLINS
ghostly white, whose footsteps made no ecl
as they went and came, how we drew neart
and nearer TO the marvellous Jenny, as Il
tales went on at a garrulous rate, and v
fancied the Pickering fame on the hickol
forestick was burning blue, and dared N
look back where the shadows were the THO
est, lest we should see-something!
Bye and bye we all grow sleepy, and t
head feels heavy, and one or more little hea
are nestled in the folds of Jenny's che
apron. Then Jenny tells us big story abe
those brave little children and puts us aw
snugly in the little trundle bed. And
drew the warm quilts over ourinnocent hea,
and lay wondering and wondering what IL
was that went "pitta pat" on the windo
or what it was that raised up the bed. o
we wished we were asleep or that it "
morning with the bright sun shining
shadows away And when the bright mo
ing came, and a great feck of sunshine ca
in at the window to wake us, Jenny came
and helped us on with our checked trows
and our little boots, and smoothed our he;
and told us Of the good things for breakfa
Good Jenny, if thou Invest yet, God keep
memory green!
Years have gone by, but the vision of
old home on the hill yet fingers in the he's
We built castles then and peopled them W
giants, ourselves the greatest giants of tn
oil. We build castles yet and find tn
trembling down in ruins. We wish all
pictures Of our childhood had been beautif
for believe us truly such pictures as are gi
us then never fade out from the Heaven-web
canvass that hangs in the heart.
Alack how our pen has run at random
writing of the blessed old Home on the il
"PURE LIQUoR."-Dr. ii. Cox, the Insl