Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1858-10-13


aowerets, you and your Paul have watched witt
an appreciative solicitude since their first bloom
ing in May,-see them withering beneath
scorching sun, and tell me truly if thou art no
thankful for summer showers? Yes, yes, 70
showers in June! O, the rustling of the leave
and the murmurings of the rain
We have been writing all the morning abou
this, the last day of June, but now, gentle reader
with your kind leave We will 60 back four o
five weeks in the day.book of our life at tn
Farm, and turn to the first day of the month
1t is early in the morning Judging from tn
shadow of the old oak in the walk to the gate
it must be somewhere between the hours of tel
and eleven. A six.weeks drought has parchec
up the whole earth, and come well nigh scorch
ing up the little bit OF soul within you. Exceed
ingly hot and .sultry is the air-not a breeze i
string in the tree tops, and the only plac
that one can breathe with tolerable comfort i
underneath the old oaks, in the back yard, OF
the shady side of the house. Thither you re
pair with volume of poems or your sewing
with Mr. Bryant or your knitting, just as 90.
please; and there you find Papa Lindsay lool
ing so beautiful in his gray hairs, as he BEND
over the columns of the latest newspaper; On
close beside him on little rustic table, lies {
hoary eather.bacled Bible which always open!
to the MN Psalm perhaps last year!
Almanac. A slight breeze stirs in the air, and
throwing the paper aside, he arises somewha
impatienty to lop off huge bough Of the ole
tree that has been cumbrously sweeping thu
ground at his feet. A fine looking old man i:
Papa Lindsay, though seventy.two summer;
were registered for him by Meta Morris, hi:
dear little granddaughter, upon his last birth
day cake. Upright, sturdy and firm he stands
with limbs and snewS that were colossally dc
yeloped in field and fox.chaise. A more lusty
arm cannot be found in all the country around
aud clear and strong still flows the life current
within his veins. Into many story Of wood
and field, and stream, he might be tempted, that
would make you laugh for month to come
but the weather is warm, and in his heart oi
hearts he is praying for rain; so we will spare
him this time.
Paul Randall, the college bred Paul l-Meta's
Cousin Paul who always comes in vacations
sitting by, in all his schoolday felicity, with a
volume of delightful Kit North's Essays in his
hand, which he pretends to read very assduous.
ly. Ever and auon the old main turns to him
with one Of his quaking exclamations about the
weather, and just now Pauls face looks quite
sorrowful in behalf Of the old mans showery-
desires, yet he, in truth, is thinking neither Of
the old man Lindsay nor of the sweet and
" Holy Child Of whom he has been reading
since breakfast but Of the dear, blue.eyed little
Meta Morris, Of whom we spoke in the begin.
ming. All blushing and frightened she ran from
him moment ago, pretending that her hair
was all down and needed braiding, and he is now
thinking that she is grieved at his impertinence
and rashness, whilst size is aconderiag in her
heart Of hearts phat Paul eouldmean by squeez-
ing her hand so hard achen he told her she eqs
" the re,y dearest to him Of all his Cousins"
Away up stairs she is now all in lutter trying
to weave head of tangled hair into de.
cent braid. But no, the incorrigible tangle
seems to be one of those knots that are to re-
main forever tied at it she pulls, Justify, with
both brush and comb, out pouts the rosy little
mouth, and she really would get quite angry if
her dear Cousin Paul was not so near at hand.
It was cruel in Paul to have said anything to
make Meta blush and run away, and then tangle
her hair too. At length, however, something
like braid is made and put up around the
crown of her head, and forth to the oak shade
she goes, looking as radiant as a May morning,
with the pretty blue and white morning glories
in her hair, as she sits down beside Paul. Of
course he is delighted to have her again at his
side, and behind Kit North's volume which he
holds up in his hands, he tells her she is looking
very lovely in her bushes and crown of morning
glories. His alteration increases with her bushes,
and he starts 10 whisper something very sweet
in her ear, when Papa Lindsay looks up from
his paper and makes another one of his start
ling exclamations concerning the weather. 1t
seems to me that the good, and worthy old man,
ought to be ashamed of himself to be always
soaring away Paul's pretty speeches to little
Meta just by his whims about the weather. But
clouds were to be seen this time also. At first
they lay in hinge masses, rolling and smouldering
around the horizon-now they we'll up higher,
and higher, and higher still, and thicker and
faster they gather, until the whole sky is one vast
volume of cloud.-The landscape darkens--low
moaning and muttering thunder is heard in the
distance ut Intervals buzzing wind sweeps
through the tree tops-whistes fercely around
the gable ends slamming the window shutters
and doors throughout the old Farm house-thc
swallows come in hundreds, as it were, from
the four ends of the earth, and are distinctly
heard huttering and nesting down in the chin
neys. At length come thunder and lightning,
and anon few huge drops of rain; SO slowly
and so large they fall at first that you might
count them, but quickly vivid and stunning
flash of lightning darts athwart the heavens
q deafening peal of thunder succeeds with q
sweeping blast of wind, and now thick and fast
the torrent pours down upon field and wood,
rushing at the same time in such filror from
the caves Of the long piazza, that Meta and Paul
are driven from the rose vines, behind which
they have taken shelter, to the parlour window,
to watch thssstofm.
And sucb q commotion NO tbora 10 ,p;tb;n