Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1856-11-06
Gboite Mist&llallg.
OUR OLD GRANDMOTHER

There is an old kitchen somewhere in the
past, and an old-fashioned fire. place there
in with smooth old jamb stone, smooth
with many knives that have been shsrpened
there, smooth with many little fingers that
have chung there. There are andirons with
rings in the tops, wherein many temples
Of flame have been builded with spires and
turrets of crimson. There is broad worn
hearth, broad enough for three generations
to cluster on, worn by feet that have been
torn and bleeding by the way, or been made
"beautiful" and walked upon floors of tesse-
lated gold. There are tongs in the corner,
wherewith we grasp coal and blowing for
little life," lighted our first candle; there
is shovel, wherewith were drawn forth the
glowing embers, in which we saw our FIRST
fancies, and dreamed our first dreams; with
which we stirred the logs until the sparks
rushed up the chimney as if forge was in
blast below, and wished we had so many
lambs, or so msny marbles, or SO many
something's that we coveted; and so it was
we wished our first wishes.
There 10 a chair-a low, ru.h-5ottemed
chair; there is little wheel in the corner
abig wheel in the garret, a loom in the
chamber. There are chestfull of linen and
yarn, and quilts of rare pattern, and samplers
in frames.
And everywhere and always the dear old
wrinkled face Of her whose firm, elastic
steps mock the feeble saunter OF her child.
reR's children-the old-fashioned grand.
mother of twenty years ago. She, the very
Providence of the old homestead; she who
loved US all, and wished there were more o
M TO love, and took all the school in the
hollow for grandchildren, besides. Agreat
expansive heart was hers, beneath that
woolen gown, or that more stately bomba.
sine, or that sole heirloom of silken texture
We can see her to-day, those mild, blue
eyes, with more beauty in them than time
could touch or death do more than hide
those eyes that held both smiles and tear.
within the faintest call of every one Of us
and soft reproof that seemed not passion bu
Esgret. A white tress has escaped from
beneath her snowy cap; she has just restor
cd wandering lamb to its mother; sh'
heightened the tether of a vine that wal
strsying over a window, as she came in
and plucked four leaved clover for Ellen
She sits down by the little wbeel-a tres
is running through her fingers from the dis
tsff's head, when small voice cries
aGrandms," from the old red cradle, an,
"Grandma," Tsmmy shouts from the top o
the stairs. Gently she lets 60 the thread
for her patience is almost as beautiful a
her charity, as she touches the little re-
bark q moment, till the-young voyager is il
dream again, and then directs Tommy
.unsvailing attempt to harness the cat.
The tick of the clock runs low, and sh
"opens the mysterious door, and proceeds t
~ind il up. We are all on tip-toe, and W
beg in breath to be lifted up one by on
and look in for the hundredth time upon tn
tin cases of the weights, and the poor lionel
pendulum, which goes to and fro by its litti
AIN windows, and our petitions were a.
,ersnted, and we are lifted up, and we a
touch with the finger the wonderful weight:
and the music of the wheel is resumed.
Was Mary to be married, or Jane to b
wrapped in a shroud. So meekly did sh
fold the white hands Of the one upon he
still bosom, that there seemed to be praye