Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1857-09-05
OUR OLD GRANDMOTHER.

those of my beloved mother which were meas
urcd ty my own saws Alexander Dumas. and
so coniuic> up one Of the sweetest images in the
world. He was revisitng the home OF his iniau-
cy ; he was retracnr the little paths around it
in which he had once walked and strange flow
ers could not eficc, and rank grass could not
conceal. and cruel ploWs could not oblterate his
" shortest ioots cps" and his mothers beside
them, measured by his own.
And who needs to be told whose footsteps
they were that thus kept time with the feeble
patterng Of childhool', itlle feet? II was no
mother bchnd whom ASrauius walked with
unequal steps in Ntruils line, hnt a strong,
stern man, who could have borne him, aud not
been huriened folded him in lis arms from Ill
dinger aud not been wcatied everything, in
deed. he could have done for him, hut lust what
he needed mo>t-he could not sYmpathize with
him-he could not be a child agAln. Alb, rare
art is that-ior, indeed, it is an art to set back
the 1reat clock OF Time, and be a boy once moic
/ Mans Imagination can ea>ily see tie child man;
but how hard It Is for 1t tn see the man child
and he who hal lear.cd 10 Glide back into that
ro,y time when he did 10, know that thorns
were under the roses, or that clouds would ever
return after the rain ; when he thought a
/ tear could STAN a check no more than drop Of
ram a flower when he tanlied that life had no
disguise, and hope no blight at al-haS come as
near a anybody can to discovering the north
west passage to Paradise
And it is, perhaps, for this reason. that it Is so
much easier Tor a mother TO enter the kingdom
/ # Heaven than it is for the rest Of the world
She ianres She is leading the children, when,
after all, the children are leading her and they
keep her indeed where the uvcr is uarrowest
aud air is cearest ami the beckonlng Ui the ra-
didnt hand is 80 plainly seen from the other side
that 1t Is no wonder she 81 often lets 90 her clasp
upon the iiltle finger she i, holding. and goes
over To tn neiahbors. and the children follow
ike lambs TO the ioll. for we think ii ought
somewhere to be written " Where the mother
is, there viii the children be also
But it was not ot the mother we began to
think, but OF the dear, old fashioned grandmoth-
er, whusc thread OF love. bv hand on life ;
htte wheel was longer and stronger than they
make 1t now vas wound aru nd and about the
children She s,N PLAYING IN the chidren's arms,
ir true love knot that rothng blt the shears
OF Atropos could sever; for do we not recognise
the lambs sdmeimrs, when summer days are
oyer and autumn winds are blowing, as they
come hlealng from the yellow fiel 5, by the
crimson ii read we wolnd about their necks in
April or May, and so undo the gate and let the
wanderers in
Blessed be the children who have an old FASH
ionrd grandmother. As they hope for length
OF GAYS, let them love and honor her, for we can
tell them they will never find another
There Is a arre old kitchen somewhere IN
the past, and an od-tashionrd fireplace therein,
with lis smooth old jtmhs OF slone-smoolh with
many knives that have tccn sharpened there
smooth with many little fingers that have clung
there. There are andwons. too-ihr old andirons,
with rings in the top. wherein many temples Of
flame have been builled. with spires and urreis
of crimson. There is a broad worn hearth, by
feet that have heen torI aud bleeding by the
way. ur been made " beautiful" and walked up
on ilours OF iesscldted gold. There are longs IN
the corner wherewith we araspcd a coal, and
blowing for little life" lighted our first cam
die There is a shovel. wherewith were drawn
forth the glowing ember' in which We saw our
first tancirs aud dreamed our first dreams tho
shovel with which we stirred the sleepy logs
ill tie sparks rushed mp the chimney as il "A
forge were in blast below, and wished we had
so many lambs so manv marbles, or so many
something's that we coveted and SO it was we
wished our first wishes
There il a chair-a low. rush-hottom chair
there is little wheel in the corner big wheel
in the garret, loom in The chamber. There are
chests full of linen and yarn, and quilts OF rare
pattern, and samplers in frames
And everywhere and alNays the dear old
wrnkled face Of her whose firm elastic step
mocks the feeble saunter ot her childrcn's chll-
dren-lhe odtashioucd grandmother OF twenty
years ago. She, the very Providence of the old
homese ead-she who 10, ed us ALL and said she
2 wished there WIS more of us to love, and took
all the school in the Hollow for grand children
beside. A great expansive heart wa hers, be-
meath that WOODEN gown, or that more stately
bombaziue, or that sole heir loom Of sikcn text.
ure.
We can see her to-day, those mild blue eyes
with more of beauty IN them than time could
touch or death do more than hde-those eyes
that held both smiles and tears within the faint
est call of every of US, and soft reproof thai
seemed not passion but regret. A white tres,
has escaped from beneath her snowy cap; she
has ust restored a wandering lamb TO its moth,
er she heightened the tether of vine that wa:
strdyng over window, as she came in, and
pluckcd a tour-leaved clover for Ellen. She
, sits down by the little whpel-a tress is running
through her fingers from the disatl's disheveled
head, when a small yoce cries, " Grandma" from
the old red cradle and 4" Grandma" Tomm,
: shouts from the top Of the stairs Gently sht
lets 20 the thread, for her patience is almost a.
= beautiful as her charity, and she touches the lIt
tie red bark in Il moment, till the young voy
ager is IN dream again, and then directs Tom
my's unavaillng attempts t. harness the cat
The tick Of the clock runs faint and low, and
she opens the mysterious door, and proceeds tc
, wind it up. We are all on tlp-toe, and we beg
in breath to be lifted up one by one, and look
: in the hundrcdth time upon the tin cases of the
weights and the poor lonely pendulum, whicI
/ goes to and fro by its little dim window and new
er comes out in the world, and our petitions arc
= all granted, and we are lifted up, and we all
touch With finger the wonderful weights, and
the music Of the lillle wheel is resumed.
Was Mary to be married, or Jane 10 be wrap
: ped in a shroud ? So meekly did she fold the
white hands OF the one upon her still Iosom thai
there seemed to be PRAYER in them there and
so sweeily did she wrealhe the white rose in the
hair OF the other, that one would nor have won.
derrd had more roses budled for company.
How she stood between us and apprehended
harm how the rudest of us sofencd benea h the
gentle pressure Of her faded and tremuous hlnd
From her capacous pocket that hand was ever
Withdrawn closed, only TO be opened in our own
, with the nuts she hal gathered, the cherries she
= had plucked, the little egg she had found, the