The Council Bluffs nonpareil. [volume] (Council Bluffs [Iowa]) 1857-1867, 1860-10-06
THE OLD GARRETT.

SaTCaStlc people say tnat poets uWcli IL
garre,s, and simple people believe it. And
others, neither sarcastic nor simple, send
them up aloft, among the rubbish, Just be-
| cause they do not know what to do with
them down stairs and "among folks" and
so they class them under the head of rub
bish, and consign them to that grand recep-
tacle of dilapidated "has. bcens," and des-
pissed ''used to -be's''-tbe old garret.
The garret is to the other apartments ni
the homestead what the advcrb is.to the ped
agogue in parsing every thing they do not
know how to dispose Of, is consigned to the
list Of adverbs. And it is for this precise
reason that we love garrets; because they
do contain the relics of the old and the pas,
souvenirs Of other and happier and sim.
pier times.
They have come to build houses now
a-days without garrcts. impious invoca-
ton !
You man Of bronze. and "bearded lik e the
pard," who would max ke people believe if you
could, that you never were ''a todl,ng wee
thing" that you never wore ga rife dress,
or iingled rattle box with infinite delight;
that you never had mother, and that che
never became mn old woman, and wore caps
and sprctacles, and may be took snuff go
home once more, after all these years of
absence, all booted and whiskered, and six
feet high MS you are, and let US 20 up the
stairs together, into that old fashioned, spa
cious garret, that extends from gable to ga
be, with its narrow, oval windows with a
'pider- Of u sash, though which steals
ga dim religious lighp' upon museum Of
things unnameable, that once figured below
stairs but were long since crowded out by
the Nandal hand Of these modern times.
The loose boards Of the floor rattle some
what as they used to do-dont they?-when
beneath yoar little pattering feet they clat
tered nforetins, when of rainy afternoon,
"mother," wcared with many-tongued i'm
portunity, granted the s'Let us 70 up garret
and play" And play2 Prrcioas little of
play have you had since, We dare warrant,
with your looks OF dignity, and dreams Of
ambition.
ret. The old barrel-shall we rummage it?
Old files of newspapers, dusty, yellow, n
little tattered! "Tis the Columbian Star"
How familiar the type looks! How it re-
minds you of old times, when you looked
over the edge of the counter with the "Let-
ters or papers for father 20 And these same
Stars, just damp from the press, were car
ried one by one to the freside, and pernsed
and preserved as they ought to be. Stars 2
Damp? Alb! many star has set since then,
and many a ncwturfed heap grown damp
with rain that fell not from the clouds.
Dive deeper into the barrel. There! A
bundle-up it comes, in a cloud of DUST
Old Alnanacs, by all that is memorable
Almanacs, thin-leaved iedscrs Of time. GO
ing back to-=let IS see how far: lS4-, 1s3@,
lS2=,-before our e-l60-, -,when our
mothers were children. And the day book
how blotted and hlearcd with many rec.
ords and many tears!
There, you have hi':gour bead against that
beam. Tine was, when you ran to and fro
beneath it, bat you are nearer to it now, by
more than the "al,itude Of a chopine." That
beam is stro~n with forgotten papers of
seeds for next years sowing distaH, with
some few shreds OF fax remaining, 10 thrust
in . crevice OF the rafters overhead; and
tucked away, close under the eres, is ssthe
little wheel,n that used to stand BY the Ere
in times long gone. Its sweet, low song
has ceased; and perhaps-perbaps she drew
those fa1en ,hreads--bnt never mind-you
remember the line, DOM you!
Well, let that pass. Do you see that lit
tie craft eareened in that dark corners IL
was rcd once, and il Was the only ca.kst in
the house once, and contained 8 mother.
jewels. The old red cradle, for oil the world.
And you occupisdit once; ay, great as you
arc, it vac rour world once, and over it, the
only horizon you beheid, bent the heaven Of
8 mothers eyes, a. you rocked in that little
barfue Of lore, on the hisher shore Of time
fast by . mothers love to mothers
heart.
And there, attached TO two rafters, are
the fragments Of an untwissed rope. Do
rod remember it, and what il was For, and
who fastened il there? 'Twastbe children's
swing. Fon are here, indeed, but where
are Nelly and Clarieys There hangs his
little cap by that ~indow, and there the lit
tie red froek she used 10 wear. A crown L
resting on his cherub brow, and her robes
are sPoiiess n the better lasd.