The weekly Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1854-1861, 1857-08-06

whose home is with US, and whose children
shout and sing about our door every hour of
the day, has the deep sympathy that Graham
shares in that mothers heart. 1t is strange
to me, but l know she knows best the wants
of her children, and I try not to wonder.
When he comes home to the roof tree, full
Of cares and business, talking earnestly with
Edward, Sarah's husband, on the rise Of
stocks and the fall of cotton, the news from
Europe and a hundred other things at once
when he reads with frowning brow the
list Offailures among merchants, plying this
condemning that-when he tears open busi-
ness letters, and runs them through in a
twinkliDg. always hurrying, can see the
mothers eye watching every careless move.
ment, with sad, sweet sympathy in them
why is it!
Sometimes, when Robert briggs his beau.
tiful wife home, and Paul dondles with the
curls of his adored bride, her head in his lap ;
when Sarah sits down on the footstool by
her husband and laughingly tumbles the
hair of her first BORN sometimes say, when
Graham helps to mdkeup the fumily party.
and chatters OF the markets, ofpoltics. and
Of the farm. have seen silent tears fall
from the quiet eyes OF Ruth, as If all this
hurry OF her boy was u mask. Perhaps il.
is. Ruth told me once that fairy young
being whose soul was twined with the soul Of
Graham. How the changing years carried
her away to sleep in green grave, and left
the boy alone. May be memory is goadng
him to this incessant action, this constant
labor. Who knows! We all have name
written some. where in the records of the
heart, dearer than all other names beside
a name that brings with it either pure enjoy.
ment, or bitter, bitter yearnngs.
Itmust be SO with Graham, for have seen
him stand silent as snow, for hours, leaning
over the banistcrs and G, zng on a simple
picture hung in the wall, with the name OF
"Rosumond" written underneath it. "Rose
of the wcrld" and yet the world only knew
of her beauty as she had ripened under fif.
teen summers suns. She was my cousin
and fu!er face never boomed out on the
bleak winter airs Of New England, but
was not suffered to marvel at her exceeding
lovliness long, for God took her, and the sin.
| pie picture and an old'mans memory are all
| that remain of her now. Perhaps, only
say perhaps, the rare vision that steals
through Grahams silent hcurs, and even
gides between him and the rustling ledger
bore the fragrant name of Rpsamond; il she
did, or il my young cousins fuce bears fain;
likeness to his "lost one" wonder not thai
the boy loves TO linger on the stairs and
watch the eastern red sunlight steal in and
glow suddenly all over the bright beamina
countenance. How sad and how strange
that so many of our best, beloved memories
are scented with the perfume of cypress and
of shroudS.
Ruth says, the reason Of this is because
such memories would Jose their sweetness
had we the power to make them oft recurr.
ing. Those we love 60 home to their Faith.
er, when we remember only what is beuuti
full of them-years of long life might rob
them OF what makes US cherish their memory
so fonIiy; ',5W their beauty will remain un-
fading through the lapse of an unapsng eter.
nifty, and no stain on their purity can make
us love them less. She has whispered the
same words to Graham in the twilight's pur-
pie hush, and he has gone 70 his city home
more cheertully.. All! I'll dare to say he has
gozed down memory's long gallery with less
regret as his eve drinks in the beauty OF
beautiful 'fRose." He THINKS oil the change.
less years beyond the narrow sea, and OF the
changeess form watching beside its bank
for him. He has often closed his day. book
and ledger, doubt not, with the unuttered
wish that he might step across the narrow
sea, ns easily as he can cross the busy
streets.
Ruth and ! have whole troop Of lovely
and much love grand children, whom she per.
sists in spelling, and whom persist in bring.
ing up as they should be brought up. i, tru.
y enough, the young rogues are always hun.
ting my large pockets for sweetmeats and
stray bits with which to buy toys, and my
wife sometimes tells me am spelling the
whole troop instead of herself.
But children are children, and I have toe
green memory not to know that plums ane
candies are so sweet TO small lips. Deal
children, they are all Jumps of pure gold
and cunning must be the artisans hand that
can mould the gold Alright. Paul's young
wife, with azure eyes and amber curs, looks
far too young and frail to guide the stou
youngster, whose saucy black eyes are fol
all the world the exact counterpart of hi.
old granpa's.
J.. Who, then, like Ruth and /, can feet
small lips and dandle baby limbs? Who
though-her hands have grown unsteady anc
weak, can fold the tiny form in drowsy
robe like my dear old wife! All, me! how
| L .Ess- - Al.