Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1856-07-10
Gboite M(isteuanp.
BY ALICE CAREY.


ter fashion and display; but SO it is, and tht
blessings we might have, are lest in the eff
forts to get those whichlie outside OF tn,
possible.
We aie as one who sees the bright top of ;
mountain and climbs till his strength is gone
and the noontide heat burns him up, anC
then sees too late the cool deep shadows al
the bottom.
And what is it after all that we want
What is this reaching and working and com.
planning aboutl What is there we really
need which, by little honest endeavor, we
may not attain it! In the limited experience
of my life,- how many sorrowfully limitedipic-
lures have seen-pictures that might just
IS well have been turned towards the sun
shine as not.
Let me show you the first that rises 10
my mind. Ii is an old country house--the
roof all green with moss, the windows bro
ken, and the paint washed from the walls.
The trees that grow about it are upturned,
and the weeds in the door-yard have ch Jk-
ed out the flowers, if there were ever any
flowers there; everything Looks ruinOus.
The well-curb is shattered and leaning to
one side, the sweep broken, but in its use
less condition, standing yet; so that the
water is drawn by means of milk pail AMI
the clothesline; a few stunted currant
bushes, and bunch ofworm-wood, indicate
the spot were the garden had been. The
fences are down, and the briars are up. In
short, 1t looks thriftless and comfortless,
and whyl 1t was not always so!
can remember when all the farm and
the house were neat and trim, as you can
iragme-when the household was astir at
day break and the dozen Of sleek cows were
MIXED and turned into the pasture before
sunrise. Now the four or five scrawney
creatures are sometimes neglected until Tear
MONDAY, and stand lowing and switching
the flies about the milkyard, in place of
chewing the cud in the maple shadows.
The housewife that used t. look so tidv,
as she stood churning under the cherry
trees, at the door, is rarely to be seen now,
and when she is, it is in slovenly dress,
and with melancholy air. The doors are
close shut, and | suspect the spiders work
IN and about the place at pleasure. Some
times at ten o'clock in the morning, the
owner of these premises had been seen
yawning about the door with uncombed
hair, and in languid spirit seemingly.
He used 10 be blowing when the larks
began to sing, and whistling as they. And
what has wrought all this change! Why
are the children, that used to be skipping to
the free school, with faces so round and SO
merry, kept at home now to roam wild
through the woods and forget all that they
had ever learned az school.
This, and simply this, is the reason of it
all.
A rich man has come to the neigl,bor-
hood, and the shadow of his fine house falls
across the doorway os farmer D., as we call
the person of whom we are writing.
sour neighbors don't milk dozer cows
and make butter" says Mrs. D. "Supposed
we sell ours, and try some other way of do
ing!'' The farmer demurs little, but one
after another the cows are sold:-1t makes
the hands of the children SO big and awkard
to milk, said Mrs. D., sand if we want them
to be like anybody, (meaning the rich neigh
bor,) we must not have them milk"
They don't try anything else, however, in
the place of butter-making, and before long
the dresses of the children are too old and
too worn to wear to school,; there is nothing
with which to make new ones, and Mrs. d.
thinks it small difference whether they go
at al, as it is well to stay at home, ifthey
can't do any more like other folks; referring
of course to the rich neis shbor, whose child
rem go to the Academy.
The weeds grow up in the door-yard.-l
"Bless me'' saws Mrs. d. our hollyhocks
and sun flowers don't look much like the
beautiful flowers soma people have. don't
care whether they are planted or not" And
so things 60.
Sabbath morning comes, and the wagon
in which they used to rde to the church is
not drawn from beneath the shed. Mrs. D.
thinks people shat can't have carriage may
as well stay at home ard read sermon; be-
sides she noticed when she went last, that
her bonnet didn't look Ike some ladies' bon
nets And the rich neighbor goes by in
his carriage and the farmer wanders about
the fields, looks at the colts and cows di-
minishing in numbers and excellence, and
at last goes home dissatisfied with himself
and the world. Because they can't do all
the rich neighbor can do, they will do
nothing. when, if they had kept steadily
forward, they might have enjoyed many
things for which they are now vainly sigh
ing.
True, their door-yard might not have been
enclosed with stone wall, but white-wash-
ed picket fence they could have made, and
that. the hollyhocks and roses gleam-
ing through, would have been pretty if not
grand. They might not have driven a fine
coach, but neat and comfortable carriage
might have been theirs, and their children
might have been educated at the free school
as well as at the Academy.
As it is, the parents are unamiable, envi-
Gus, Jealous, while their families are grow
ing up in idleness and ignorance, and with
proud and ambitious notions, too, that they
will never be likely to have the means OF
indulging.
Again say, wish we were not SO much
afraid cf being poor, or that we were less
discontented at the opulence of others
Suppose our neighbor looks down upon us.
or that our roof is low-well and what of
it! does the storm beat through because of
the proud LOOKS! if not, / see not that we
are worse. If my dress be one of cloth and
the gown of my friends be of another and
costliest one, shall we cease to be friends be-
cause of it. Not if she be oneswhom | care
to have my friend.
If have not much gold and silver, can
narrow my wants if will, and after all the
best things are the free gift Of God. The
fresh air ard the sunshine are mine, as well
as the rich mans and though he may have
luxurious house, he may be blind to the
splendor of the sunset and the glory of the
stars. Under my low cottage roof at mid
night, have had visions that wealth could
but buy; from the simple wood-fowers, and
the hum ofthe bees and the song of birds,