Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1855-03-21

own hands. Ana she IS sltllnS ny lhe VIII
dow, her foot gently touching that same
dear little cradle; and her eyes, lifted from
her sewing, now and then, to see if that dear
husband, on whose love her heart rests, is
coming How deliciously her heart is stir
red 10 the music of sweet thoughts. 1t is
her first born, her darling Johnny, sleeping
in the cradle. Never yet have his dewy,
rosebud lips murmured mother" his dim
pied arms clasp her neck; his velvet cheek
nestles against her breast, his clear blue
eyes look lovingly into her own. She is the
mother again, as memory paints that sweet
baby face. She hears the bees hummng in
the little bed of piuks, below the window
She sees the shadow.Ieaves of the Virginia
creapers, playing upon the grass in the sun
light, as the breeze stirs the long cla:ping
arms that cling about the rough logs.
She hears the rivulet's ripple as it winds
through messy spots, and laves the roots of
the old sycamore, whose shadows fall upon
hef roof. She hears the birds singing, away
off in the woodlands She sees, on! best Ct
all, her dear husband coming home from his
daily labor His step is on the sill, his mer.
ry voice speaks her name, and then little
Johnny is clasped to his heart.
Another picture. She is a little older
now. 1t is winter; there are drifts Of snow
on the caves; AID, as far as the eye can
look, one unbroken mass Of snow. She
hears the winds moan through the sycamore.
The flowers are dead; the rivulet frozen;
the bwds silent. But there is 4 bright fire
on the hearth, and the cabin home warm
with its crimson light. Johnny is playing
with father; and baby girl, the little Liz
zie, is in the cradle fragile, delicate, beaut.
fu; she has dark eyes, like her mothers only
they wear a sadder, softer look, and her
baby's smile seems sad also; her hands are
clasped and thrown above her head, and she
smiles in. her sleep, as if the angels were
whispering to her.
Another picture. 1t is in the May month,
and all out of doors is so beautiful. Flow
ers aud birds in the woodland joy-music ey.
erywhere. Everywhere? No, there is sadness
in the cabin home. There is another babe
in the cradle 1t is robust, and the blood
of health flows through its veins 1t is Char
lie. Why are they sad then Johnny sits,
with his face hidden in his mothers bosom,
and she is sobbing. Under the front win.
dow is something covered with white. The
neighbor women are moving noselessly
about, speaking but little. Lizzie is in her
cetfia. There is an empty grave waiting
for its victim, right up Oh the hill, where
bulteroups dot the grass. Dea' little Lizzie !
Joy that the angels took thee home so early.
Another picture. Johnny has grown up
to nearly manhood Charlie is a stout,
merry boy, and there are others about the
6re-side. The mother is good deal older
now. Her hair is streakrd Il little with sill.
yer; her brow iurrowed and her cheek very
faded. There are fair daughters and sons,
that have been born unto her since Lizzie
died Grace, with her dazzlrg blue eyes
aud golden hair. Mary, with sad dark eyes
like her dead sister, Annie, with her lips
ever dewy with love and joy. Reginald,
with eyes aud brow so like his fathers, and
Louis, the youngest, the pet and The darling.
An unbrokcn family; but not for long.
Another picture. She is a widow now,
Her beloved sleeps with little Lizzie. GOO
knows how bereit she is (; to Him she looks
for balm; to Him she prays for her dear
children, and most of all for Reginald-lhe
proud, the passionate, wil(ul Reginald. Ab,
the mothers heart! How it goes with her
children. How it would bear every pang
that they might be saved. Yet, how often
it is torn, crushed, broken, by those she has
sheltered in her bosom God pity tho
mother whose heart thus beats against
thorns
Another picture. o God, have pity
The household alter is almost desolate.--,
Years have gone by--sad years. No won.
der the palSied hand trembles, as it clasps
the cradle, No wonder tears fall where
sunny heads once nestled. No wonder the
old Grandmother cries out, "Father, have
mercy!' for she feels the need Of strength
and love. Johnny is still with her; he is
growing wealthy. Mary is in the grave,
stricken in early womauhood, when life
seemed so bright. Beautiful Grace isgone,
she knows not whittier. Beauty, to her,
was curse, aud she fled to distant land
with one fascinating as the serpent, but al.
ready welded. Annie joined her fortunes
to one, alas unworthy; and died, far from
her mothers home, Of a broken heart. Regi.
nald went into the gay world-was tempted
was lost !-and the grave of the drunkard
and bauchee closes over his bright head.
Louis, the pet, the youngest, is winning
himsefa name beneath Italian skies the
beautiful life of the poetpainter is his own,
and his face is inspired, almost, by the beau.
tiful associations about him. Over the ocean
do his mothers prayers often 60 to him.
Another pcture-Oh mol it is too real.
The old garret-the to.day-the empty cra-
die. She is living with Johnny, in his cost,
" home. She is considered an intruder by
the daughterin.law andher son-her John.
ny-the first.born, whom she has watched
over and Graded on her breast, and loved so,
says:
"Mother is getting to be quite trouble
some; she is growing childish"
The desolate old grandmother knows this,
and longs for the grave. She has outlived
all that makes life attractive. God compass
that weary, almost worn. out heart, with His
love, an5 take her homo to His House OF
many mansions. s."-Arthur's Home Mag
azine.
W AN editor became martial, and was
created captain On parade instead OF, "two
PAGES in front-advance," he unconsl'uSy y
exclaimed, Cash-two dollars year in