Port Tobacco times, and Charles County advertiser. (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1845-1898, 1859-03-03


there; for the song of the lark, the voice OF
the cuckoo, and the melody of the nightin-
gale. are all heard there in due season; and
day and night, in sunshine or in shade, there
is the never-ceasing music of rippling
stream, which has its source in the sparkl-
ing pool, and goes babbling on of the beauty
of its home as it wanders far away, over
many mile, to mingle its waters with those
Of a mighty river.
The little streamlet has no name, and is
not known in the great world but it runs
its daily course with gladness, and beautifes
and benefits whatever comes in its way.
Human eye gazes but rarely upon the
beauty of the scene have been attemptin g
to describe; but it is ever present to the
angels of God And those whose mission
it is to bear earth's incense Of praise to the
courts above, have also a tribute to collect
from the dwellers in this fair valley; for
surely joy and gratitude are due for the cool
il ing dews, the gentle showers and refreshing
breezes, not to mention the warm bright
beams of sunshine which the fowcr-buds
welcome so gladly.
But [ have to tell of time when sorrow
found its way to mar the harmony of that
lovely scene. No human eye could have
detected the first symptom Of evil. Out
wardly all was fair and beauteous; but 'the
trail of the serpent had passed even there,
and the guardian watcher knew it all too
well when the breath of praise rose not as
freely as it was wont in the still hour Of
eventide.
| There was mist of discomfort lowering
somewhere, which marred the fragrance of
that balmy hour; and the fower-s spirit sigh
ed sadly as he fingered on his mission and
waited for the hush of night to investigate
it's cause.
At length the song of the birds was still
ed. There was no voice save that of the
murmuring brooklet One by one the How-
erets closed their weary buds the beautiful
blue forget-me-nots and the fragile veronica
dropped their heads beneath the clear cold
moonbeams, and the lily nestled her tiny
bells closer to the sheltering foliage around
her
And then the solemn hush was broken by
"a sigh of discomfort, which arose on the
evening trggzs, anu rfse-a
the fower-spirit. He heard an unthankful
murmuring, and he knew whence it came,
for he marked solitary Forget -me-not and
a single spray of Lily bloom holding them
selves aloof from their kin, and eagerly list
ening to the night-winds whispering and
the babbling of the tiny stream. They were
discontented flowers: they did not care to
live on any longer in quiet obscurity they
wanted to see the great world, about which
the riyulet and the breezes had so often told
them. They felt cramped and confined in
that lonely, unfrequented pond. They
thought themselves wiser than their neigh
bors they had given more heed to what was
told them of the world beyond the hills.
The brook was sorry that his babbling,
struct them, should have made them unhap-
py, and good-naturedly promised to help
them in any way that he could to make their
lot more enjoyable; but the breeze-false
friend that he was !-counseled them to
leave all their old acquaintance and rela-
tives in the wood, and go forth together and
see the world for themselves.
This the brook did not consider wise ad-
vice; but the willful flowers were only too
ready to follow it, and as his voice of dissent
was drowned by the bluster of the breeze,
he said no more to disuade them, and was
persuaded to join with the latter in assisting
them to leave their home So the sturdy
little Forget-me-not tried more and more
every day to detach it's roots from it's fel-
lows, and stretched eagerly towards the
bank, that the streamlet might watt her
down its current; and the Lily, hour by
hour, bent more away from her sheltering g
vail of green leaves; and though her stem
began to get crooked, and her pure bells
splashed with mud as the little tadpoles
played about near them, she did not care for
that; for she knew that before many days
her friend, the breeze, would be able to snap
her slender stem, and carry her off,
She was not happy; and both she and
the Fo-get-me-not agreed that they want
ed change, and would be improved by trav-
cling.
They had not quite made up their minds
when or how they should return; but OF
course they meant to do so one day, to dis
play their knowled ge Of the world to their
unsophisticated relatives.
Some of their companions, who knew Of
their discomfort and their projected expedi-
tion, tried to persuade them that the Good
Father knew best where to place his child
ren; /; and the bees, who loved to nestle in the
Lily's bells, and the butterflies and beauti-
full glossy beetles, who courted the sun, sup
ported by the azure Forget-me-not, told
them how useful they were in their own
neighborhood, and how much they would
be missed if they really succeeded in getting
away. All to no purpose, however, the
headstrong things thought they should be of
far more use in wider sphere of action
Besides, the zephyrs had told them of beau
tiful Aowers-fetes and grand festivities in