Port Tobacco times, and Charles County advertiser. (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1845-1898, 1860-11-16

is the after summer that makes the Love-
trees of our lives blossom with home Sweet
and dear is the hearth blooming of the Frost;
the coming back to the freside of our affec-
tions and hopes and memories, from the
meadows, and the grain-felds and the vino
yards and the flower gardens, into the sweet
security of the radiant solitudes men caA
Home
"Since Eve came blushing into Edcn's bowcr'
Sweet is the Harvest-Home of all things
sweet and human that garland the altar of
domestic Peace. Now the Fire-the Won
derful Fairy who makes our faces radiant
and enchants to warmer life the hearth and
heart blossoms -reigns as chief of the Lares,
taking its summer-vacant places in our
houses. And the little children, whose
butterfly chases must now be in their hearts,
crowd around the Fairy Fire whispers won
derful and merry and wise and witching
stories to them sometimes translated from
the Fairy languages by Lizzie the house
maid, and sometimes paraphrase1 by little
Alfred. the poet-laureate of the HEARTH and
it makes their ''eyes see pictures when
they're shut" by its warm whisperings and
showers them marvellous fortunes from the
world not realized that await them there
= conjuring up the genii of the heart by all
kinds OF loving incantations to do their bid
ding. All, the Fire is wonderful Fortu-
tus. And the little lovers ''see" in the
Fairy's picture gallaries and find the prin-
cess with golden locks sometimes invested,
in the world "realized" Of years to come, in
pantaloons,. and sometimes in the paper cur
rencyss{a }sank stocks and railroad scrip);,
rrrey see hEr- n Ulle =
one with his own eyes-and they whisper,
''give me the original, divine Fairy And
10, to strange. low, ''unheard music" she
comes, and each one clasps her and lives a
long and serene life in the palace that AL
ladin's Woodworking architects build for
them. And the lonely Annie, whose ro-
nance is yet in the phantom ships that sail
The twilight seas of thought to and from the
land of Legend slowed by all kinds of Now
improbable but Then-possible champions,
and rides with her chosen knight through
Fairy -land-a little Fairy-Queen herself
sometimes a Britomart fighting in disguise
for her lover.
So they hear the Fire and-cach one rubs
his OR her wonder-eyes and the gentle mo-
ther whispers "You must go to bed now,
my children" All yes, ~
ssTo haunted pillow, haunted then s,z1
BY costs that never came again
Pagcantres of childish eyes,
From sunshine of the heart they rise" =
All beautiful, middle aged reader, is<the
Fire-play of young dreams around the old
face and the old heart that the Fire plays of
childhood hung with enchanted paintings
that will not fade away, but always and al
ways re-bloom from the dusk walls of memo
ry in the fame-light Beautiful are the
real Arabian Nights of Childhood ; do they
not seem sometimes 1.-THE fountain lights of
all our Day p
1t is very hard for child to grow up and
have child soul still 1t is hard to be and
not be President or Congressman or an
editor or postmaster or an omnibus driver
or something otherwise than the Fire For
tunatls whispered in the long nights of fun
to little Jimmy, little Stephen Douglas, lit
tie Horace Greeley, and the million, million
little blue and black and grey eyed dream
crs. But
stWe will gricyc not; rather find
Strength in what remains behind, s- =-.ss. 5
In the primal sympathy =
Which, having been must ever be-
For, perhaps, after the visitors have left
the White House empty of all except it's
owner, and his home, the fire. play bright
ems his dreams and the weird Fire Fairy
sings to make the hearth sadly enchanted;
perhaps during the dullest speech of the
session little Stephen Douglas is at homo
again. tits easy to grow young gin dreams,
you know.
Dear reader (dear here means the sweet
est eyes that ever were soufs blossoms),
if you would know why we are SO enthusias
tic for the Frost-work and fire. play, please
imagine us sitting in our barren thoughted
room in country tavern, while the cold
dreary morning of fog-rain knows neither a
memory Of hope or sunshine And we have
no fire. Hang the 10y where is he ?"--
But the bell is rung in vain. Ah, we'll
there ARE bright faces in the world else
where. And for the frost-work on the face
there is fire-play in the heart.
.G.-A generous mind Identifies itself
with all around it; selfish one Identifies
all things with itself The generous mind
seeks happiness in promoting that ofsothers;
the selfish man reduces all things to his own
interest.
re When minds are 1t in unison. the
words of love itself are but the rafting of.