Monmouth weekly herald. [volume] (Freehold, N.J.) 1854-1860, 1859-10-21
fauiIg Gutle.
LITTLE CHARLIE;
OR,
A Plea FOR Gentle Words. |
A SKETCH FROM THE REAL.

| HeFo III is 1mpOSSlDie LOT J GU 10 keep sum
minute;;" and hand came down with
no gentle touch upon the cheek of beau
tiful boy who stood timidly shrieking be-
meath the angry glance of his passionate
mother.
II am SO sorry mamma, I didn't 60 to
do it, the hot flush of shame mounting
to the very curls that nestled upon his
brow. sys e*s
Eyes, you are always sorry. but you
never mind" These words, though
spoken quickly, were much more gentle
than the first angry exclamation, for the
mother saw she had been unjust, that the
accident had been caused more by her
own carelessness. than the child's': wri
ting late the night before, she had left
theinkstand open upon the table, where
he had accidentally overturned it in
reaching for his cap; like all quick tenn
pered persons she felt her fault most
kcenly, but was averse to acknowledging
lit even to herself. Come Charlie, it is
time you were going to school, and then
L shall have quiet moment" Slowly
gathering his books he started for the
door, the grieyed look telling of the in
ward pain. Where is my good bye
kiss, Charlie 20 This was pleasantly
said but there was no answering smile,
only deepening of the flushed cheek as
he replied, 81 thought you were angry
with me, mamma and was afraid to
trouble YOU" Obi poor short-sighted
mother, why was not that little head pill
lowed upon your loving heart, tender
hands put forth to pat the clustering
hair, and shower kisses upon lip, cheek
and brow, until those sad eyes would
beam with happiness again. Alas the
hot blood of anger had stained your
cheek, hasty words have escaped your
| lips in that pure presence, and both pride
and shame withhold the fond caress.
Furitively glaneing up and catching
| the seftened expression of his mothers
face, in moment little arms are twined
about her neck, tears fall thick and fast.
while rosy lips close pressed to hers, mur-t
mur, am not bad mamma, only so sor-
ry." This was too much for the mother's
heart; he was her darling, her only one,
and she loved him with all the ardor of.
her impulsiye nature, and yet heN, was
made to feel again the bitter effects OF
her passionate temper.
Kisses are withheld no longer now, but
with quvering lip and tear brirnmed,eye
she fondly clasps him to her heart and
inwardly VOWS with the help Of God to
curb the impulsiye temper which rules
her, to so much pain and sorrow. There
pet, you must run to school or you will
be late;" SO the bright .ringlets we're
smoothed again, mammals last goodbye
kiss given, and Charlie bounds away with
smile on his lip; but the long lashes
still damp with the tears that glistened
upon his check.
1t was lovely spring day;the air was
scented with dewey freshness, the warm
sunlight softly beaded in,~the opening
cups of the prowsy flowers sought with
eager kissing lips to unbihd~t heir winter
dreams; light winds coquetting with the
orchard boughs sent. shower of snowy
blossoms to the ground ;eevery thing was
bright and. beautiful. Then why this
sadness upon the mothers brow? Where
fore this uncomfortable choking sensa-
ton in the throat. as watching the last
glimpse of her darling boy, and marking
with a mothers pride the careless grace
of his bounding limbs ? A cold hand
seemed clutching at her heart dark
shadow to vail-the sun light, and with
tears glistening on her cheek she slowly
turns and wanders from room to room
restless and unhappy
Hurrah schools out; merry shouts
ring through the air, as troop after troop
of noisy boys come rushing into the street;
faces blooming, eyes bright with joys and
smiles, for school is out an hour earlier
than usual and they are brim full of fun
and glee.
Hark there is a clamor, scattering
of timid boys, as frightened horse comes
dashing madly through the streets-a
wild piercing shrek and little Charlie
has fallen beneath those murderous hoofs.
There he lies, his sunny ringlets trailing
in the dust, their glossy beauty sadly
married by the crimson drops slowly fall
ing from that cruel wound; stiAed sob,
an upward look Of the gentle eyes DER
which the death film has already gath
cred, and those rosy lips still warm with
mothers kiss are stilled in death. Alas
who will dare tell that desolate mother
the fearful tale 8
The house is very quiet now, so very
quiet, cold and dark, although the warm
sunlight comes dancing through the vines
that drape the window; the sunny slopes
are rosy with the blossoming peach, the
cherry trees have put on their SUPPLIES
of snow, while bird notes come ripping
through the leaves like the "prattle of
merry children" But he whose voice
was sweetest, whose artless talk music
in that darkened home, lies hushed and
still, his golden ringlets tenderly laid
back from cheek no longer blooming
but cold and damp as marble; his hands
| like folded lilies placed upon his breast
with dewy buds between"
His useless cap hangs in the hall, books
and toys are tossed upon the stable as he
had left them in his childish play; few
violets, the first Of the season, which
Charlie had found and broughtin to man
ma, are smiling in their beauty as fresh
and joyous as if the little hand that pluck
ed them was not cold in death.
Dear little Charlie, you will neeer. be
sorry again, the smiles that dwells upon
those placid lips tells of glorious home
in Paradise, where there shall be no more
sorrow no more tears