Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1855-08-29
- From the Nationsi Erel
a Short Story VTitllA EIo2al-
py ELLEN c. HoPRS.

q :
I. beautiful in its exenaplifeation IS glorious il
its conception 4. 4 mothers lips first breath
ed into our ears these words OF Hoy Writ
and explained their general import; and from
the time when The story of grayhaired Elijah
| and his youthful Knockers first excited my
! young Imagination, the respect then inspired
for the white hairs Of age, has grown with my
growth and Strengthened with my strength
/ we sigh as we think of the days when the
young we're wont TO bow before the hoary head.
and by gentle, uncalled-for assiduities, strew
roses in The old mans totterng path.
Bnt those kindly customs of cur Puritan an
cestors have passed awsy. The world grows
selfish as it grows old; and age-dimmed eyes
i must turn homcward for stays to their Temb-
i ling hands and totterng limbs. Here they
shonld find fulillment of the first command
ment with promise. .- .tt
! :. No true womanly soul. ever withdrew her
! gentle hand frcp Der poor old fathero moth qfth
eT3 No manly heart eyer forget the home loves
Of his wayward chi!dhood, or ceased to hear
the echoes Of fond mothers prayer. OFTEN
the cares Of this world and the &eceilfalncss
| of riches may choke up the inbornE affections
Of narrow souls; bat few and IA. between is
the fondIy loved child, who c-,n he SO rtntrte
to himself or his Ma.er as Wholly tU forget
the mothe- who bore him. a.as
Vet even with the hottest dictates of our
reasons and souls, as with the wider appiica-
tion of the commandment, has Fashion insin-
uated her poisonous infuence; and the son.
perchaice, who left his fond parents humble
home reluctantly and tearfully, to make his
way in the world, forgets, when fortune f1vors,
to welcome his rustic mother to his owp lux
ury with tle same cordial embrace withwliich
he left her N his childhood home. Her dim
old eyes, perhaps, do not catch readily the
meaningless courtesies fife, but they look
none the less lovingly upon her childs than
when they watched over his helpless infancy.
Her withered hands may be large and bony
and never have known iewel, but none the
less gently did they smooth theweary pillow,
or bathe the heated brow, in the dependent
days Of boyhood- Al! she's the same fond
mother still-her aged and worlS-bent form,
clad in rustic garb, conceIls a heart full OF
neyer-dying love, and ready for new sacri-
fee.
And, thanks.to the Great Being who gave
US the commandment with promise, now and
then there stands uPa notls nirl, true to his
inborn nature, who throws ofi'the trammels Of
Fashion, however wide The gulf which separ-
ates, in the worlds eye. from the humble pow
erty of his boyhood-who is not ashamed to
love, before his fellows, the humble mother
who gave him birth s--.,. ,as
s.1iy Mother, permit me. to present her to
you," said an elegantly dressed, noble looking
young man to a friend, for whom he had cross
ed crowded drawing room, with his aged pa
rent leaning on his arm. There was a dead
silence for full FIVE minutes.
The moral beauty Of the picture. .preyaded ey-
cry soul, and melted away the frost-worll from
world-word hearts. Twas the old foreground
ofa fashionable summer resort, whittier hosts
had come, with all Their selfish passions, to
seek in vain for health and pleasure. But
here was a variation-a bit Of truth to nature77-
in the motley mingling of colors,- sf..ss
From little brown farm house, Pent in the
forests, away up in the granite State, that
young man had gene forth with brave heart
and stalwart arm-strons, like his native hills,
he had already made name for himself. Polr
ished circles opened for him, and gentle lips
bade him welcome. Yet none the less care
fully did his manly arm support his homely,
tottering old mother-none the less softly and
tenderly did he call her, queer though she
looked, :.mg7noHer,' amongst the proud beau
ties who had striven for his favor. Her dress
was antiquated, for the gifts of her son had
been mutilatcd by rustic hands; yet only one
heartess girl Uttered, despite the broad frilled
cap and well-kept shawl. Her voice wasrough,
and often her expression coarse and inclerant
Used 10 the social mug at home, she asked for
her neig ghboras goblet at table, and was guilty.
of many like vulgarities.3 She was an uninteT-
esting woman, save in her vigorous age, and
her beautiful love for her son. -
Yet, for a week, the son watched over that
mother, and gained for her kindness and de-
ference, in the very face of fashion; walked
with her, drove With her, helped her, like an
infant, upa difficult mountain side of twenty
miles, hulnored her every caprice, and each
day found some new friend, whose heart he
might thrill by those gentle words, ssny moth
er.' To him she was the gentle mother who
rocked him to sleep in childhood; and, true
to the great, commandment she had taught
him, he was making the path smooth for her
dependent years.
One there was in the gay throng, whose eyes
flashed haughtilys as they rested on the home
ly, toil-worn woman, butshe was a noble sonl,
and truth and right gained an instant victory
over life long prejudices. Qnietly and ele-
gantl. she crossed the room, laid her hand