Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1857-11-21

flock, had di,houored his name and
brought sorrow on the head of his pnor
old father. The sun sEone as brightly,
the birds sung as joyously, lie eIms whs-
pered as muscal!y, YET 10 him all nature
he'd changed.
The soft summer breeze stole through
the open window, and hfed he thin, while
hair from his aged temples, and The IIle
house dog came and pulup his SILKY
paws on his knees for his accustomed
kind word and carrss, and turned away
whining pieously, as if he knew that
something had gone wrong.
The glad sunbcams came dancing in
and nestled lovingly among his dear old
books and manuscripts, yet he needed
Ilhem not. He had known uals-had
with his own hands closed the eyes Of
three sons, and one darling daughter, the
light Of lis houscho!d-and last OF all had
crossed the hands on the dear bosom, and
folded back the grey locks on the brow of
his cherished wife, the partner of bis
Joys and sorrows, and laid them away to
rest in the quiet churchyard. He could
look from !hal very window and see the
humble graves, as The cold marble CLEAN
ed in The sunlight, and in the still autumn
nights he could hear tie murmur Of the
willow bonghs, as they waved and sighed
in gentle musical tones above tile green
mounds.
lie would think that the plain white
slabs were but placed there to tell him
that those dear ores but rested from earth
and lis cares, and he knew that they all
died pure and good, and that when tie
frost Of death gathered on bis brow, and
dimmed the lus,re Of his eye, he too
you'd sleep with them, and join them in
their ceaseIeSs anthems before the throne
of the invisible, mighty eternal One.
But this last stroke was harder than all
the r,sl, for he had much rather have pla-
Iccd him with The dead band, than have
heard that he had proved unfmttlu to his
trust; and his bravo old heart, that had
never given way beneath all his affections.
was bowed, and The firm, enduring spirit
/ that he'd never bent through the long bat
! tie of life. gave way-and crushed, and
broken in spirit, the aged pilgrim cried a
loud for hel p and support.
/ For several hours lie satthere-then
| rising, he went to his. Old seat on the
porch, and opening tho bible, read as in
| the morning. No one would have known
/ that aught had happened, save lhat there
was look Of deep, helpless sadness a
round the usually placid mouth, and the
lines on the vcncral brow had dee2cned,
and the meek counlenance was shade
pa!er than it was wont 10 be.
The news had spread through the viii
Iage and one by one the neighbors came
dropping in--somc of them bearing
basket of strawberries or some .ililc Gift,
aud their tones we're lower and more ten
der, and though they spoke no word Of
sympathy, yet the good man felt il all, and
blessed item for il.
The next day was Sunday, and as the
clear church bells broke the sabbath still
ness, the minister cane forth, but his
step " as slower and feebler, and lie lean
cd more heavily ON his stout oaken staff,
and as he toueIod up the aisle, the deacon,
slrIck by the extreme paeness Of his
countenance, stepped forward to assist
him up the pulpe, steps. lie shook his
mead, and uEaiLed clia.bed 10 lie desk ;
after wipjng his brow, on which the per-
aspiration stood in large beaded G.ops, he
rose, and stretching ont his wllhered
hands, repeated the morning prayer aud
gave out the hymn.