Delaware weekly Republican. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1841-188?, 1857-05-21
nor the prr6Mtarl6; Rcrnl,llran.

" ASnngtonj out as you Will SEQ IN reaulnB IL,
he is by birth Wilmingtonian. l thought
he piece worth preserving, and cut 1t OUT
oresumng you had not seen it, enclose it to
GU, hoping, if it meets your views, to see it
occupy place in your paper. The weather is
low very delightful; crops very backward,
especially cotton. Farmers have had to re-
plant two or three times.
Tho seVerest winter since 1886, so said. The !
iron Schooner, Mahlon Belts, Of Wilmington. |
arrived at this place on Friday last, list inst,
in ballast.
Schooner ]. and B. Small cleared to-day for
your place, with lumber. Have just had a
hail storm, hail as large as the end of your
finger. Again goes the crops. The election
held in this city, on Monday, 4th inst, result
ed in the election of the entire American tick
eS,by handsome majorities.
When | began this letter, had no intention
To write the latter part Of it, but some how or
other my pen continued to run along the pa
per- Hope have your forgiveness for having
taken up SO much of your valuable time.
Yours, Resp'ty, W. M.
WASHINGTON, April, 1857.
We had determined, on our way home, to
rest for ono day, at tho place " where we were
born" We wished to compare old Impress
ions daguerreotyped, some firmly, some faint
ly, on childish memory, with the vivid reali-
tics as they would now appear.
When We stopped midway between Balti-
more and Philadelphia, and heard the con-
ductor's cry, it quite made us start, it was a
familiar sound. 10 hear that name shouted
ont at railway station seemed SO strange.
few moments moro, and we were joltng along
the quiet, sleepy streets, once SO familiar to
our juvenile feet. Aswe passed on, the sound
of the old &c Town Hall clock " fell upon our
ear. 1t must be-yes, it was-the very old
clock we knew,-so wonderfully old-and its
spire so W. nderfully high, tapering right into
the sky, and visible for miles. AL came back
as infinitely as a Dutch picture.
We visited that dear and lovely haunt Of our
girlish days" the Brandywine." We wished
to sea If the little sacred spots we had cherish
ed in memory were the same.
Years do not pass without leaving some
traces; for however nsiseless the tread Of the
grey beard, his footsteps are always discern
ible. He had, however, trodden very lightly
over the little village which bears the name Of
this far famed stream. Down on the waters
edge the same old moss grown flour mills and
on sMe Uaik " the brick mansions of
the propretors with their green blinds, and
grounds laid Out in fantastic curves, half-moons
and triangles. The same clang of the cooper's
hammer, ane now, as ever, bright fire in the
temple of Vulcan. The sc Bishops house," on
The " Race % was rather more luxurantly COW
cred with dark, rich foliage, but otherwise
it looked the same. The rose bushes climb to
the back caves, as they did in former times;
the spring-house had not moved an inch from
its old place over the Race. The old maple
overhanging the water was the identical one
to which wild little urchins owed so many tum-
bles when climbing up its jagged branches to
look for the nest of madame red breast.
We turned up the self-same path that our
childish feet had so often trod the placid stream
on one side, and berry bushes with their BRIDE
like clusters of delicate blossoms on the other.
We went on amid a wilderness of sweetness un-
der the same thick-shaGed naples and grace
full elms till we reached the Sc dam - that used
to be the grand boundary of our early walks.
High hills skirted by woods rose on the left,
and on the right slope terminating in deep
gorge, through which little brooks tngled aS
though myriads of fairy jewellers tripped it
there to the music Of their own silken bells.
There was the same old log serving for rus
tic bridge, where we had angled for minnows
many day. Along the borders of the stream,
were the same clumps of willows and wild
elms, shagged with green away down to the
earth, and ut their roots sprang troops of flow
ers, bending their blue and crimson cups to
the water, while in the shots of light breaking
through their branches, swarmed clans Of
bright-hued insects, dipping their gay wings in
the liquid gold OF morning. Our heart yearned
seat soft as the ri chest velvet carpet and bent
our head and pcered down into the water. A
fin swept by, with thin layer of silver over it,
and then followed a troop of little silver things
hurrying after each other, as though on their
way TO u fairy wedding. In one place the wa
ter was low, and little minnOw, in silver
pinaiore, lay weatheIbound, on the half-dry
stones, painting, with about tea-spoonful Of
iub.e-wa1m water turning lazily from its head
and creeping down its back at too slow pace
to afford the sufferer hope of emancipation. We
had laughed and shouted above this water in
our childish days. We had played beside il
when the days were years of summer time, and
the summers were young eternities Of bright
ness. Every pebble had familiar look to us,
every ripple, every murmuring breeze, and ev-
cry feathered thing spoke language that we
could perfectly understand
We crossed the Water Fall on the same step
ping stones, and hurried over the springy
ground beyond, until our feet were bathed in
the cold draught held by the deceitful soil
then we walked slowly up to the narrow path
between the alder-bushes, and paused beneath
the deep space of a broad-leaved bass-wood.
There was the same dear old woods, and the
same dingle of tangled vines we had left three
years ago.
Dear was the boyish hand that tied those
wild vines together, because little sister
sometimes wished for a dreaming place more
exclusive than the shadow of the trees-deaI
was that kindly hand, and none the less dear
is it now that it may never again rest upon the
head it has toyed with hours and hours togeth.
er, before the miidew of death spread ltse
upon our hearth-stone. His head has swee
pillow amor flowers, and streams, and beau
titul singing birds and budding vines, which
fold their arms about him like living sleeper
Many tale might the green-mossed stone
and tall grass that waves around tell of on
young gambols. OH those rare, bright days
| We tried to imagine ourselves in the first fresh
mes Of that beautitulseason. Again we seemed
| to clap our hands and laugh and shout il
childish glee, until the old woods rang will
ten thousand answering echoes. Again w
were trolicing among the dandelions and gold
en-hearted dasies. Again we linked the whit
petaled blossoms together, and decked gu
| torcheads like would-be duchesses. Again
we picked buttercups, and held them bensat
each others chins, till we made the surprising
discovery that both loved butter. Again W
sought diligently after four leaved clover
Again we take the {" pet scat" and tell LON
stories from fairy books to the little nestler
around us, sending many a dew-like lookn
heart-messengcr from rosy cheeks to the tip O
a clover leaf, on the beaded point of gras
blade.
Alas those days ate past forever and for
ever; bat we bless God for the rich memorie
clinging to every tree and hillock Memory i
an angel that comes in the holy time, and fold
ing its wings beside US, FORCES silently thos
golden links which as years wear away, connec
the spirit, world worn, with its first freshness
NJ. j. W.
-~-b-<-
HORRIBLE DIsoLosuREs.-Dead Bodies En-
humef and Burned Great excitementprevale
at Concord, N. g., last weekin consequence o
the discovery of the fact that the bodies of tw
little girls, daughters of respectable citizen
had been exhumed and burned. Suspicion
pointed to quack doctor named Nugent, ant
All excited crowd proceeded to his house, wher,
they found him in dying condition, and in
few hours he was corpse. He made state
meht, however, before death, to the effect thai
he had eXhamed about sixteen dead bodies il
fl,.act.rd and alsa,yhnr. nEtn- ,,ri.,.. a.,