The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1860-11-08
WINTER EVENING THOUGHTS
BACHELOR


its songs Of birds, its delicious perfumes,
and its dcliciouser Strawberries and
cream, is delghLful-dccide y--and
has been very justly embalmcd forever
in this Gambler Of poesy" Summer,
with its wide spread paviions and end
less corridors cf cool deep green, its
luxury Of blushing fruits, and its old
fashioned apple-dumplngs, is not to be
spoken Of lightly; while Autumn, with
its grand and gorgeous drapery, its
golden harvcsts, its dreamy quiet, and
its pumpkin pies, is-Some, CHATS
classical, cery) But, after all, give me
rough old Winter which is now setting
in, with his merry twinGling eye, his
rosy check and frosty beard, See
with what II boisterous mirth he capers
over the hills and plains, shaking the
teathery, cddying snowhakcs from his
garments, and playinga thousand fan
tastic pranks, some of which, too, |
am forced to say, don't SAVIOR altogoth-
er of a very refined school OF politenoss,
such as pnching the pert nose of every
pretty maiden he meets upon the high
way, tipping the dgniied majors hat
from his august Uranium, just as ho is
in the act Of making his protoundest
obesance to the handsome widow, and
piping his shrill whistle through every
crack and keyhole about the house -.
But he is u privileged character, you
know, and after all Il right jolly old
wight. And although he makes hi:
headquarters amid tho ice-locked re
gions of eternal snow, he sallics forth
once every year, to Il moro genial
cline; perhaps just to thaw his jolly
nose little, at tho tount of warmth ;
or perhaps again, like true upper
crust at u watering place, simply to cut
ddSh At any rate, hc never fails to
give US Il call, and to make his presence
known and felt too But we must not
forget that beneath all his rough oban-
don Of prcsel &c, there lies concealed u
very fine taste for the beautiful, which
sometimes displays itself by hanging in
u single night the whole Universe in
brlliants. All this is dono, too, 50
noisclcssly, perhaps, that You know
nothing Of it untiI you put aside the
window curtains in the morning, and
the vast panorama of dazzling scenery
that lies flashing and palpitatingi in the
crystal sunlight, bursts upon your en-
rapturcd view. He possesses, too, Il
most exquisite sense Of architecture
taste, rs the delicatcly wrought fabrics
upon the window pane, and tho myriad
crystal columns that shoot from tho
earth in such sparkling brilliancy and
endless variety will amply testify. But
am writing Ikea school girl about the
"beauties of Winter" when | only
wished to say, and do now say, that
there are nono who enjoy his gonial
presence more than the old bachelor-
he, mean, who has passed tho halt
way house, on the stnmpy road of life,
alone. Now dccry this idea as much
as ye will, all yc who are "wise in your
own conccits" but it is unaltcrably y
so. "You certainly forget suggests a
friend, "that Solomon Wiscacre, in his
learned and elaborate treatise on the
normal condition OF man, asserts plain.
ly and dogmaticaly, that the old bach
elor is ncceSSdrjIy II cold and selfish be-
ing-a barren tree in the great ground
work ofsociety-an isolated distinctive
unity, without II counterpart in the
vast universe of nature, besides many
other things equally as severe and
quite as logical" Bah. Solomon Wise
acre, say |, and all such dwalfish min
nics rs imbibe his doctrine, should lead
asses to water al the days of their stu
pid lives. They can never comprehend
tho broad measure ofsympathy and be'
ncvolencc that wells up from the hon
est bachelors soul, and overflows his
very nature like Il sea. lie lives for
humanity at large, and take upon
myself the fearful responsibility OF as
scrting now, that he is the best and hap
piest being that lves--yes, | repeat,
the happiest. am young bachelor
myself, and but for my nasal protuber-
ance am pretty good looking, and have
a right to lift up my voice in these mat
ters. The light Of woman's eye, her
cheering smiles and comforting words,
are all very pretty themes for love-sick
swains to build their pyramids of jing-
ling rhymes upon, and it is really a
pity they should ever know any more
of human nature than they do at that
interesting age, when everything that
sports potticoat (oxcusc me ladios,)
to them, wears the color de rose. But
when ago shall have licensed thom to
peep behind the curtains little, as /
have done, pr,sto reto: But | fear am
trcading in tender places, and will at
once desist.
| was saying just now, ! believe tha'
no one enjoyed winter evening mo,.
"a n