The Jeffersonian Democrat. [volume] (Chardon, Ohio) 1854-1865, 1860-12-07
Our Old Grandmother.

al find the marks Of my shortest stops
beside those Of my beloved mother, which
wore measured by my own, says Alexan-
der Dumas, and so conjures up ono of tho
sweetest images in tho world. He was re.
visiting tho home of bis infancy he was re-
tracing the little paths around it in which
he had walked and strange flowers could
not etface, and rank weeds could not con-
ceal, and cruel plows could not oblterate
bis shortest footsteps" and his mothers
beside them, measured by bis own.
Aud who needs to be told whose footsteps
they were that thus kopt time with the
feeble pattoring of chidhood's little feet -
1t was not the mother behind whom As.
canius walked "wth unequal STEP" in Vir-
girs time, but strong, stern man, who
could have borno him and not been bur.
dcned folded him in his arms from all dan.
ger, and not been wcarird everything, in
deed, he could have done for him, but Just
what he needed most--could not sympathze
with him {; he could not be child again.
All J rare art is that, for indeed il is an
art. to Set back the groat old clock of time,
and be boy once moro. Mans imagination
can oasi!y s"o the child man; but how
hard it is for il to 500 the man child; and
he who had learned to glide back into that
rosy time, whom no did not know that thorns
were under roses, or that clouds would ever
return aftor the rain; when he thought u
tear could stain check no moro than u
drop of rain flowor; whom he .ancicd that
life had no disguise, and hope no blight at
all. has como as near as anybody can to dis.
covering the northwest passage TO Paradise.
And it is, porhapa, for this reason. that 1.
is 50 much easer for a mother to entor the
kingdom of heaven than it is for the rest of
tho world. Sho fancies sho is leading the
children, whom. after all, tho children ure
leading her and they keep her. indeed.
where tho river is the narrowest and the air
is the clearest; and the beckoniug of ra-
diant land is so plainly seon from tho other
side, that II is no wonder she often lots 90
| tho clasp upon tho little fingers sho 10 hold.
ing. and goes over to tho neighbors, and the
children follow like lambs TO the fold, for
we think it ought somewhere to be written
-"Whero the mother 10, there will the
child be also"
But it was not of tho mother that we
began to think bot of tho dear, old fashioned
grandmother. whose thread of love spun
"by hand" on life's little wheol, was longer
and stronger than they make il now, was
wound about tho children shc saw playing
In her children's arms, in true lovo knot
that nothing but the shears OF Atropos could
sever; for do wo not recognize the lamb,
sometimes, when summer days arc over, and
autumn winds are blowing, as they come
bleating from the yellow fields, by the
crimson thread we wound about thoif necki
in April or May, and so undo tho gate and
lot tho wanderers in
Blessed bo the children who have an old.
fashioned grandmother. As they hopo iol
length Of days, let them love and honor her
for We eau tell them they will never find
another.
, There is large old kitchen somowher,
in the past. and an old-fashoned fireplac,
therein, with it's smooth old jambs of stone
smooth with many knives that had beer
sharpenod herewith many little fingers
that have clung thore. There arc and
irons, too the old andirOns with rings in
the top; wherein many temples of fame
have been builded, with spires and turrots
of crimson. There is broad, worn hearth.
broad enough for three generations to clus
ter on worn by feet that have boon torn
and bleeding by the way. or boon made
beautiful" and walked upon floors of tos.
selated gold. There are tongs in tho corner
wherc Sith wa grasped the coal, and "5lowing
for a little l.o," lighted our first candle
there is q shovel, whercwith wero drawn
forth the glowing embers, in which We saw
our first fancies and dreamed our first
dreams tho shovel, with which we stirred
the sleepy logs till the sparks rushed up
tho chimney, as If forge were in full blast
below, and We wished that we had SO many
lambs, or SO many marbles, or so many
something's that we coveted; and so it was
that we wished our first wish.
There is chair; a low, rush -bottomed
| chair; there is little vince! in the corner,
big wheel 10 the garnet. loom in the
chamber. There are chests full of liner and
yarn, and quilts of rare patterns, and
samplers" in frames.
And everywhere and always tho dear old
wrinkled face of her whose firm, elastic step.
mocks the feeble sauGter of her childrens 3
children-the Oldfashioned grandmother OF
twenty years ago. Sto, the worry Provi-
dence of the old homestead; she who loved
US all, and said she wished there we're more
of US to love, and took all the school in the
Hollow for grandchildren beside. A great,
expansive heart was hers, beneath that
wooden gown. or that moro stately bom-
bazine, or that sole heirloom of silken
texture.
We can see her to-day. those mild blue
eyes, with more oi beauty IN them than time
could touch, or Death do more than hide
those eyes that held both smiles and tears
within the faintest call of every one of us,
and soft reproof, that seemed not passion,
but regret. A white tress has escaped from
beneath her snowy cap she has just re-
stored q wandering lamb to its mother; she
lengthened the tether of a vine that was
straying over a window, as she came in. aud
plucked a four.leaved clover for Ellen
She sits down By the little wheel-a tross is