The Lambertville press. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1858-1???, 1859-07-21

FOR THE PREss.l
Ruth May.
BY KATE w.

| went the other day to spend the afternoon.
and take tea with one Of my neighbors, Mrs
Ruth May
Mrs. Ruth May is a neat little woman, and
her only child little Willie, is "perfect beau
ty' of babe; and Miss Rose Wild Mrs. Mays
sister, is handsome young lady, with rich,
brown, curling hair, rosy cheeks, and such deli
cate white hands; have often looked at Rose
Wild's pretty hands and wondered how she kept
them so soft and white, when Mrs. May kept
no hired help, and there was no one else to as
sist her.
When l reached the little story -and-a-half
dwelling where they live, I found no one home
excepting Mrs. May and Willie, Rose having
just started +" for town on horseback, with her
cousin, Rufus Lee for a companion and to
tell the truth I was not sorry, for l preferred
being alone with Mrs. May, who entertained me
with the following little story, which I will re-
late as well as | can remember in her own way
remember it WE'LL that dear home of my
childhood, the old dark frame house, which stood
upon the bank of the Delaware oh when |
lift the misty veil which old Time has thrown
over the past, and look through Memory's tele-
scope what visions of the days gone-5ye do I
see what castle ruins, and faded hopes; what
a glimpse do get of childhood's days of limo
cent enjoyment, and young girlhoods hopes, and
disappointments. Often, and often, do I look
back over the days which have come between
the then and 1aoaO, and see again that old frame
house on the bank of the bright flowing Della
ware. I was born there, and all the bright days
of my childhood were spent there Twas there
my Mother pressed her first kiss upon my red
lips, and | all unconscious of the wealth of love
which streamed from her heart, through the
warm lips pressing my own; twas there my
Father cold and stern, as he was, first looked
with softened pride upon my baby brow and
twas there in the dear old home that my sisters
Rose and Violet were born, adding new joy to
the household. Summer after summer passed
over my young head and with my little sisters
for companions, played upon the green grass
in the yard around the old house, sometimes
stealing through the gate and going slyly down
to the little brook with its pebly bottom, and
sandy shores there where the weeping willows
bent over to look in the pretty mirror which ma
ture had placed SO near them. Oh it was de-
ghtful to play there by that shining little stream
under the shade Of the willows, where the warm
sun-rays only just peeped, as if playing with the
breeze that waved the green leaves; it was such
frr 70 10 n nd bo1-
ture ovens built Of sand and to take off shoes
and stockings, and there in the shade of the
willows, sit on the sandy shore, our little feet in
the sparkling water, watching the sun cast shin
ing jewels over the stream as it went singing
past enjoying each moment in a transport of
delight until gentle Mothers sweet voice would
call US back again to the greensward by the door
How I used to watch with pride the graceful
form Of my Mother as she planted the flowers
and trained the roses around the door, those
bright June roses, even now it seems to me that
their rich perfume is stealing around me. The
jasmine too with its delicate flowers, how often
have I watched my Mother trim and Irvine that
jasmine; and for hours together | have rested
upon the the door step, sat there dreaming In
the sunlight and wishing that when died, my
grave might be under that dropping jasmine, my
Mothers favorite flower Ah well old Time
carried me from the joyous sports of childhood,
to the radiant dreamland of young girlhood and
all that happy time had gathered flowers in
the sunshine but soon clouds gathered in my
sky, and shadows fell across my pathway.
plghted my hand to Archie Sane, and for a
while all went well; and then they told me that
he was faithless and soon learned all too well
that fair young girl, with her peerless beauty
led him captive, and was seemingly forgotten.
And yet there were still greater griefs to wiring
my heart; my loved Mother was called away
from earth sour sad tears could not stay the
handof death and them all, me my Father
too was laid down beside her in the church yard.