The River Falls journal. (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1857-1861, 1858-02-03

had trudged through mud and snow, and
the shaggy outside garment, stiff with
sleet; taking heed likewise, to the com
fort of the faithful dog who had followed
his master through the storm! When
did lie refuse a coal to light a pipe, OF
even part of his substance to kindle q
neighbors fire? And then, at twilight,
when laborer or scholar, or N ortal OF
whatever age, sex, OF degree, drew chair
beside him, and looked into his glowing
face, how acute, how profound, how com
prehensive was his sympathy with the
mood of each and all. He pictured forth
their very thoughts. TO the youthful
he showed the scenes of the adventurous
life before them; to the aged, the shad-
ows Of departed love and hope: ana: if
all earthly things had grown distasteful,
he could gladden. the fireside muser with
golden glimpses of a better world. And
amid this varied communion with the
human soul, how busy would the sympa-
thizer, the deep moralist, the painter of
magic pictures. be causing the tcakcttle
to boil
Nor did it lessen the charm of his soft
familiar courtesy and helpfulness, that
the mighty spirit, were opportunity off
cred him, would run riot through the
peaceful house, wrap its inmates in his
terrible embrace, and leave nothing of
them save their whiteneti bones. This
possibility Of mad destruction only made
his domestic kindness the more touching
and beautiful. 1t was 50 sweet of him,
beng endowed with such power, to dwell
day after day, and one long, lonesome
night after another, Oh the dusky hearth,
only now and then betraying his wild ma
turc, by thru ting his red tongue out of
the chimney-top! True, he. had done
much mischief in the world, aud was
pretty certain to do more; but HIS warm
heart atoncd for all. He was kindly to
the race Of man; and they parloned his
,inperfections. I.r
The good Old clergyman, ny prede-
cessor IN this mansion, was well acquan-
ted with the comforts of the freside.-
His yearly allowance of wood, according
to the terms Of his settlement, was no
less than sixty cords. Almost an annual
forest WAS converted from sound oak logs
into ashes, in the kitchen, the paror and
this little study, where now an unworthy
successor-not in the pastoral office but,
merely in his earthly abode-s:ts serb
Ing beside an airtight stove. l love to
fancy one of those firesido days, while
the gCol man, cotemporary OF the rev.
olution was in his early prime some five
and sixty years ago. Before sunrise,
doubtless, the blaze hoycred upon the
grey skirt OF night, and dissolved the
frost-work that had gathered like curtain
over the small wiudowpanes There is
something peculiar in the aspect Of the
morning fircsidc;a fresher, br;sker glare;
the absence of that mcllowness, which
can be produced only by half consumed
logs, and shapeless with the white ashes
on them and mighty Goals, the remnant
of tree trunks that the hungry clements
have gnawed for hours. The morning
hearth, too, is newly swept, and the bra
zen an.lirons well frightened, so that the
cheerful fire may see its face in them.-
Surely it was happiness when the pastor
fortified with substantial breakfast, sat
down in his armchair and slippers, and
opened the Whole Body Of Divinity or
the Commentary ON job, or whichever
Of his old foios or quartos might fall with.
in the range Of his weekly sermons. 1t
must have been his own fault, if the warm
and glow of this abundant hearth did not
permeate the discourse, and keep his au-
dience comfortable, in spite of the bitter
est northern blast that ever wrestled with
the church-stceple. He reads, while the
heat warps the stiff covers of the volume;
he writes without numbness either in his
heart or fingers; and, with unstinted hand
he throws fresh sticks of wood upon the
fire.
A parishioner comes in. With what
warmth of beneyolenc-how should he
be otherwise than warm in any of his at
tributes docs the minister bid him wei
come. and set chair for him in so close
proximity to the hearth, thot soon the
guest finds it needful to rub his scorched
Sims with his great red hands. the mel
ting snow drips from his stoaming boots,
and bubbles upon the hearth. His puck
cred forehead unravels lis ENHANCEMENT
of crisscross wrinkles. We lose much of
the enjoyment of freside heat without
such an opportunity Of marking lis genial