San Andreas independent., 1858-06-05
HOME MADE CHIPS.
By E. F. TAYLOR.

like casket Tor Jewels, all alone by itself
in huge hearse, melancholy with plumes,
and gloomy as frown, and we have
thought, not so should we accompany
those little way, who 90 in the morn
ing. We have wondered why they did
not take little coffin in the carriage with
them and lay it gently on their laps, the
sleeper there lulled to slumber without
bosom or a cradle We have wondered
what there was for tears in such a going
in the early morning from home to
home like fair white doves with downy
wings emerging from neither night, and
futtering for entrance at the windows Of
Heaven Never yet has there been a
hand waiting to take the wanderer in,
and shut out the darkness and the
storm.
Upon those little faces, itnever seemed
to US, that death could place his great
seal there is no thought of the charnel-
house in those young listeners to that in
vltatlon whose acceptance we are bound
not to forbid; there should be morning
songs and not sighs; fresh flowers and
not badges of mourning; no tears nor
clouds, but bright dews and bright dawn
ings together.
People are not better for being indispo-
sed, than when they call themselves sick
are they? If you intend to have the
girl, why not marry her in plain English,
instead of leading her to the altar, as
Abraham led the sheep? Gentlemen do
not 90 to bed, they only retire. Ladies
never dress they only make their toilet;
they dispose their coihures, but bless us,
they never comb their hair. 1t is always
good evening, and never good night.
The old Gardenl What need to write
more ? The thought of "Sweet Will
liams" come to US again, and the little
grass pinks are sprinkling the borders
with rubies, and the blue violets cluster
meekly along the fence, and Ponies
Heaven restore the day we called them
" Pienesys filled up the corners, and
over these is row of Bachelors But
TONS" white, purple and blue; gay and
varied enough for the roundabout of
poor Joseph.
1t is morning, and the sweet bells of
the Morning Glories toll their per-
fume alongside the vine it is mid-sum-
mer, and the old Bell Rose, forever sa-
cred to memory and affection, bushes and
blesses all the air; it is September, and
the starry China Asters rise in rainbow
lighted consultations in the grass
The red plumes of Love lies bleed
ing" are waving in the wind, and the
Marigold of French velvet glitters on the
ground, new coin of gold just struck in
the mint of June.
There too, were the Hollyhocks, small
orchestras every one, for the summer
bees many a time, gathering the edges
of the leaves of his tinted chamber to-
gether, have we made prisoner of the
sole singer. And there, all by itself, the
broad disc of the old fashioned Sun
Flower turns to the light, while brown
bird, the Crusoe of the rocking world,
picks fercely at the rare Mosaic Of its
close sown field of seeds.
There, too, are the Lilacs beside the
garden gate, hinging their fragrance in at
the open window, and out in the dusty
street; and there, with its broad grasp of
roots fast hold of square-rod of earth,
is the Balm of Gilead, that each year out
lives the threat of the axe and the fire.
Down the main walk, were dozen
tufts or SO of Garden Sorrel, and over
there were the feathery plumes of the
Asparagus; and who would ever forgive
US for forgetting the Carraway and the
Dill that made the old meeting house
fragrant of Sunday, blended with the
breath of pink and white roses.
And how, as we think of the garden,
can we fail to remember the green, fla
ring boxes of wood, always green, and
notched at the top-the little green hop
pers, wherein, upon the Lilliput acre of
earth, Spring poured its sweet treasures of
sunshine and rain? The little green
boxes with the Geranium race-the Lem
on, the Rose and the Strawberry; and
the Dew-plant, with its tiny pink flower,
patterned after the dew by each rich,
glossy leaf; and the Ice-plant, with its
frosted verdure, that both dwelt in these
niue green boxes OF gardens.
And where are they all, the old fash
loned Gardens and Flowers? Gone with
the Mollys and Pollys and Betsys-"a as
lovely and leeting as they" Gone with
Coronation and "Mear," with "Wind-
ham" and Wells" Gone with the
old mossy roof and the old messy bucket
e that hung in the we'll"
There are new names, and new tunes,
and new flowers; the gardens are splen-
did with statue, and fountain, and vine ];
shrubs, gorgeous with the glow of tropic
suns, tower up to skies the glazier made,
and furnaces diffuse birdless June and
prolong it through the shivering year.
PERSEvERANCE.-L Nature, we
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