Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1855-03-28
FOR THE SPIRIT OF THE AGE.
The Social Circle.

Home again! L can scarcely realize Ii, so
long have | been absent from the dear home
of my heart. l doubt not, my dear friends,
that at som period of your lives, you have
roamed from the dear place, and on your
return experienced the same pleasure that
filled my heart, as | again ran up the steps
after an absence of several weeks. We were
all SO merry that night it seemed as if we
would never weary. But ten o'clock found
us in separate apartments. There was one
JOY in store for me yet. Can you guess?
dare say not. Well, just see that pile of dear
: Spirits placed so nicely on my little table.
l count them over. Seven of my ~favorite
papers, had been absent from home, but
not from a mothers memory. The last in
junction of her first born was needed, and
weekly a new Spirit was added to the pile
Fond mother, did you think to place seven
numbers there ere the daughters return?
But l chase all thoughts ava save the
delightful one of CHANGING over tn numbers,
for it is late, and l must be satisfied with a
gerry superficial knowledge of their contents.
| turn to the second page, to Our corner and
before l read a line, my heart rises with
thankfulness to the Editor, for deyoting time
and space to our correspondence. | read
Lilly Lees sweet little letter. How could
she doubt for a moment that we would well
COulC uGE W tiA6 SlIClc /! l. LdlICy l. Cdu DcuU1U
her now, with a sad sweet smile wreathing
her lips, but a world of trusting affection
beaming from her radiant ewes. / wish we
could all meet, Mr.. Editor. Our hearts have
been long beating in unison, but it is so
pleasant to dwell, if but for a moment, with
those we love. If we could all meet, and
take Lilly by the hand, and tell her to trust
always to Our Father Though storms OF
adversely may howl around thee, sweet sis
. ter, still we bid thee hope. Brighter days
; are dawning, perhaps, but,
! Act, act in the living present,
| Heart within and God o'erhead.
t 1t is a cold stormy night, and the wind is
whistling mournfully but somehow | zee
y not its GOODNESS, for the past looms zap befor,
K me. Childhood memories and association;
e are crowding around me, and | feel agar
the balmy influences of other days. Th'
y friend of my sad and lonely hours, my jour
nal, lies before me, but cannot add anothe
- life scene,' though such was my purpose
lie tonight. l turn the leaves carelessly. All
N there is a little rosebud, and Mary writte
/; opposite. Shall | tell you of Mary, dea
lie friends?
IN 1t was a bright, sunny morning in Apri
lust such a day as gladdens the heart by til
We genial warmth of the sunshine, the gay flow
IN ers bursting forth, in smiling gardens, a
On the merry warbllng of forest minstrels.
IL had wandered from flower to flower, an
lis Mrs. Davie had been culling the beautie
y. from her beautiful garden, to send to m
5e, home, as a return for my long visit to Mar,
ut as little William will have it. Kind lad,
he how you are spelling your garden was m
re mental exclamation, as | threw myself on
of seat in the arbour. My thoughts wandere
ch on, far into the future; of the time when
'er should again be welcomed to The Arboul
Is, Mary, my dear friend, would be marie
nd before / should be with her again az
ed Freddie might bear her off to a distant Ian
DIV We would part in a few hours, perhaps new
to meet again. Oh, the painful thought!
int could only utter a prayer for her welfare.
ID, My friend, ! cannot forget thee. As sure
Ky dreaming to the very last, l declare
ny and the beautiful face of my friend was glo
os- ing with the exercise she had taken, in h
ion search for me. / remember thinking s
emit was most lovely then. Her glossy raw
1ly hair was braided around a small but we
re- formed head, whilst her sparkling eyes
ing vealed a world of fun sleeping there. ERE
md die sent me this" she added, " but l am
ire, ing to give it to you. You must keep it, a
on when you chance to see it, think how hap
we; we will be. This is for you"-and she i
life on my hand a little volume Of poetry.
pom 1 opened it, I" From F. g." was traced
not the blank leaf. l laid the bud within
ess leaves, and slowly we proceeded to the hou
ing Mrs. Davie, was already there. / CLAN
ore at the many flowers she held in her ha