Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1855-08-27

call Jenny, that fills very large place in the
centre of one or two pretty large hearts. ''Good
night lisps little fellow ia a plaid rife
dress, who was chri5tened Willie about six
years ago.
| Now lay me down to sleep.
pray the Lord nv soul TO keep:
| If should die before | w-a-k-e'-
and the small bundle in the t.undle-bed has
dropped off to sleep, but an angel will finish
the broken prayer for her, and it will 60 up
sooner than many long-winded petitions that
set out great while before it.
And so it was Good night all around the
old homestead; and very sweet music is made,
too, in the twilight, and very pleasant melody
! ii makes now as we think of il; for it was not
yesterday, nor the day before, but long time
ago--so long that Tommy is Thomas some body,
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 Jen-
ny has gone the way of the old prayer she was
slying-fOr saying another, she did as before,
| fell asleep as she said it, and walked no more.
Good night to thee, Jenny-soOd night!
And so it was good night all around the
/ house, and the children had gone through the
! ivory gate, always left little ajar for them
| 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 can 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 pitiless storm under the wall that is whole;
and yet now we think Of it, there is wonder
tul dignity about the old place. Its rooms
were not very spacious; precious little tapestry
4 Il Il IL Il
mossy, and gray; but did we not begin to live,
and to love, and to hope, there! Did not the
old homestead have very much to do with the
fashiOning Of our thoughts! Was it not as il
were, an humble mould, for the shaping of our
fancies! Did We not bear away with US
wherever we went, 4 cabinet of pictures that
were painted there? Have you forgotten what
shapeless thing II was that used TO lurk In
the dark at the top Of the stairs, always in wait
to catch you on your way to bed but never do
ing 1t And what long drawn signs used to
come moaning down the garret, and what trail
ing garments rustled along the garnet floor
How we fancied il was lady in q castle-a
lady fair and yOung-and we, so many cham
pions to sound the bugle at the gate, and bear
her safe away. For then we had read The
Scottish Chiefs" and ''Thaddeus of Warsaw
and the Duke of G!oSter saw fewer Richmonds
in the field than there were WalIaces of US
then--each one With MarmiOn or Helen to
bless him.
Then the tale that Dolly told Us round the
kitchen fire, when she had s'done up'' the work
and 'dOne up' her hair, and swept I'D the
hearth, and sat down 10 her sewing. Then il
was we gathered round, and besought her for a
story-Of ghosts, or witches, fairies, or little,
wonderful children that lived q long time ago,
and became very beautiful, or very brave, or
very something that re longed to be- How
we would have delighted to be Robin Hood,
and live in the woods, and wear an array of
Kendall green. How we wished we had been
Jack the Giant Killer, or Richard Wilmington,
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 were; of their laugh, how
glittering and CHASTITY it was-have you forgot
ten how we drew little nearer, as the tale
wenton, and thought the light was burning dim
and blue, and begged her to stir the sleeping
fire. and dare not look behind US where the
shadows were, and fancied something sighed
or spoke, and syliabled our names2 Each
voice subsidized to a whisper-all but DolIy's;
and she went ON, with castles grim, and spectres
dim, and dungeons deep, and ladies fair while
her glittering needle darted in and out along
the heightened hem. At last, one of us is
thronged upon her lap; and another begs to lay
his head therein; and still the tales go on.
The clock is on the stroke of nine and how
we dreaded the last shrill chime Itcame, and
we went reluctantly to bed. How dark the
hall was: and the door must be left open a
little; and dolly, are you there?' and Dolly
good night, and Dolly 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 something cold, or hear
something step, and how we all wished we were
asleep, or 1t was morning, or the sun shone all
night. How we suffered then and nobody knew
1t, and nobody bade US be brave.
Well, years have passed, but we build castles
as we did then, and feel just such great cold
shadows as used to lurk in the hail. and people
them with forms no eye has ever seen. The
memory should not be tomb, a place for
ghosts TO revisit the glimpses of the moon in,
but beautiful place, full of recollections OF
sunshine and loveliness.
There should be something beautiful about
homestead-a beautiful picture, a beautiful
brook, beautiful tree. A memory with glo-
riOus naples In il, and running stream, and an |
old well of crystal water, and a root with a |
vine on it, and caves with birds in them, and |
pasture full of daiSies-what a lovely place |
1t must be, indeed, TO think that in January |
we can always have a June; in an Arabia |
Petra, an ''Araby the Blest"
Mothers always look beautiful to children:
they make a picture for memory cabinet |
that ''old masters" never equalled. But then,
they should be in a beautiful setting. Let |
there be a broad hearth and an ample fire. |
place in the old homestead, if you do shut up |
the fire in iron boxes, or look at it through a |
CRATE. Get cord or two of old maple, aud a |
handful or two of old beach for feu de joie, |
and basket or two of old fashioned chips, and |
keep them all for winter birthdays and Christ !
mas ewes, and New Years nights; and get an |
Oid-fashioned body to build an old-fashioned |
fire, and blow out the candles or ''turn off, |
the gas, and grather within the circle Of the |
hearth light, aad tell pleasant tales and smile |
pleasant smiles. So you will give the children |
something beautiful to remember, for believe |
US such picture in such light will never 1
fade out from the God-wOven canvass that |
hangs in the heart