Fremont journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County [Ohio]) 1853-1866, 1857-06-19
The ola Mirror.

There 1t hangs, that old mirror, Just as 1t
hung long years before | can remember
There is nothing costly about it, with its
simple mahogany frame, which has grown
almost black with time; and yet it is very
full of voices and memories to me.
l suppose there is nothing artistic or
beautiful in the painting which occupies
nearly as large a space as the glass beneath
it, and vet, have gazed upon landscapes,
flushing the walls with their rich tropical
sunsets-upon glorious visions of turreted
castle and rolling river and cloud-wrappcd
mountains and my eyes were not dim with
such tears as fill them now, while look on
that picture framed in the top of the mirror.
There is the yellow, two-story house, set
down on that strip of land that reaches out
bravely into the sea, there is the little boat
with its white sails spread to tho wind
coming close to the shore; and there are the
deep blue waters reaching off to the pink
sunset clouds, that lie low in the distance.
How many hours in the ''long ago.
when was too i'll to read or play, have
sat in the old armchair, where so much o
my childhood was passed. and dreamed
dreams Of that "house by the sea" shore :
There is no sign of life about it, except tht
cloud of birds that are sweeping off toward
the horizon; and used to wonder how tn,
people looked who lived close TO the water
and how terrible it must have been in
storm, when the great waves beat and thun
dered against the shore, and fringed il with
long lines of foam, and the wind shrieked
and painted through the populars that stood
close to the front door, How l wondered il
there wero any little childrdn " that house
boys and girls who event sailing" in thc
little boat, on pleasant afternoons and gath
cred up pink and yellow shells on the sand
when the tide was out!
/ wondered, too, if the father and moth
er did not lead life of foreboding and anx
iety lest some of their children should fal
into the water, and get drowned, ant
whether they ever allowed them to wall
down that narrow slope of land that seem
ed to step right into the sea
How used to long to see a little curly
head suddenly brighten one of those small
window pancs, or thrust itself through thu
halfopen door; but it was no great matter
after all my childish imagination pcoplet
that old house with visions fairer than any
its artist ever dreamed Of
Then the "od mirror" brings me back
memories of other and brighter days; wher
| used to stand before it, weaving my hal
into all sorts of fantastic braids, and dream
ing other dreams, in which mot the peo
pie in the old house--was to be the chic
actor. Oh, land of the Future, with tn,
| fair gardens, thy sweet flowers, and thy sing
ing waters-who hath ever found thee
Sometimes she would come and stand b,
my side putting her little rosy check
against mine, and looking in the glass to
gether-what a contrast there was! "Ont
shall be taken and tho other left" Who
looked at us both as VIC stood there together
thon, would have prophcsied she would bc
the taken. And yet, six times has tho
moon risen and set over her new made
grave, and the cheeks whose bloom Knocked
the summer roses, lie cold and white under
the shroudfolds, with the springing grass
and the singing birds her only companions
That sold mirror like most antiquatet
household furniture, is history, a biography
poem in itself; but much of this is toc
sacred to translate. Sometimes looking W
to it, sigh for the old days, and say, "If
could only go back to that time again.
And yet, if an angel stood here, while
write, and promised to lead me very tender
ly down through the pathway of the years
that lie between, should shivcr and shrinl
back. How few Of us would be ready t.
live over all our lives again.-Arthur's Mag
| d ziie