The Carolina Spartan. [volume] (Spartanburg, S.C.) 1852-1896, 1860-09-06
From the Ladies' Repository.
Deacon Pallnel,'S Family

From the Ladies' Repository.
Deacon PallneX,'S Family,
THE sound of the stage horn flowed in
sweet mournful currents in and out of the
hollows, and the echoes among the hills
caught them up and tossed them back and
forth through the forest, and they ran in
long, silvery eddies up the turnpike, and
over the meadows, and across the orchards,
till they reached the ears, and stirred the
hearts of the quiet little village of Wood.
sock, whose farm-houses sat in the valley
at the foot of long chain of hills, like
company of pilgrims gathered to worship
before the shrine of a vast temple. 1t was
Just at sunset, and somehow those long,
mournful minor tones seemed the fitting
close of the day sservice-that autumn day
which had arisen on the IN ,untain in gar
ments of sunshine, and marched through
the hours in beauty and rejoicing, living
"Glory to God - the Creator of its good
and perfect gift.
But it was day fraught with dread and
forebcding to thousands OF homes aud hearts
in the land, for tne voice of war was
abroad in the earth, and mothers had strain
ed their brave sons for the last time to their
bosoms, and seen them so forth to battle,
and husbands and fathers had laid aside
the plow and the scythc, aud shculdered
their muskets, and taken their lives in
their hands for the sake of freedom, and
in the name of the God of battles
So deep shadows lay on the quiet coun-
try thresholds of almost every home in
New England that autumn day, and al
most every hearth-stone was an altar where
anxious, loving hearts sent up cry to
God fer their beloved. Mrs. Palmer, wife
of Deacon John Palmer, of Woodstock,
stood in the wide, old-fashioned kitchen of
the dingy, yellow farm house, which she
breHght her husband ON her marriage
p1orning. She was an ample motherly.
pleasant-faced woman, whose whole physi
ognomy correspondent with the room
Strings of red peppers and rows of dried
apples were testooned aleng the ceiling.
while swinging board, fastened to a beam
which divided the hall overhead, was bur
dened with herbs and berries, hams, dried
beans, seeds, and a motley variety of do
mestic wares.
Mrs. Palmer's life had slipped over its
6ftieth summer, and her black hair was
thickly sifted with gray, and there were
iRes about her forehead, and the smile in
her faded eyes had something sorIowful
about it, for Mrs. Palmer had walked with
grief many times and of the ten fair boys
and girls who had been gathered to her
maternal heart, only two remained to her
cid age. 1t was small famil. ander the
roof OF the old gray homestead on earth,
but larger one in that golden upper
homestead whose blessed threshold is new
er .darkened by the shadow of death.
Mrs; Palmer paused as her ear caught
the faint sweet echoes Of tie stage horn.
aud she deposited half dozen freshly
boiled dcngauuts in the pan on the table.
murmuring to herself. 50 Now, for all the
world, if that isn't the nai coming in
Who knows but what there may be some
news from Reuben ~ All! if you had
heard how her voice fingered over the
name, you would have known she was his
mother
l wonder if that boy'll take any sort of
care of himself, continued the fond moth
er, dextereusly convolving several strips of
dough aud placing them in the large iron
Kettle which hung over the fire filed with
boiling fat, which Indignantly snapped and
spuuered at their intrusion
If there was fray, he'd be sure to be
foremost, for he al'ays was poking his head
into all sorts O. danger, and never seemed
to feel quite so content as when there was a
chance, o. getting his neck off his shoul-
ders. @
"I never could exactly see where he got
hls harum-scarnm turn, for his father was
ai'ays'a q sober-minded man but it was anna
GIN how he'd be sartin to come out straight.
L never had an easy hour for the first ten
years OF his life, for fear he'd be brought
home with broken limbs; but arter he d
gone through with what would kill doz-
'en'ordinary children, | kinder gave up. |
concluded he bore charmed life.
~" Bless his heart my brave, handsome
boy never gave his mother cross word
in the world aud / saw the tears shin
an under his lashes that n1ornin' when he
kissed me good by, afore he started for the
AynJ,sthough he talked SO bold and CHEEKY
about his coming back cap'n or colonel.
y" Poor fellow! | hope he won't get the
rhneamatls campin' out at night, and they
say they have to put up with fare such as
we wouldn have the face to offer to a smart
dog. wish could do up paper o. these
doughnuts for the boy, he al'ays was fond
OF em. Dear me them cakes are burn
IA, DIPPING her large tin ladle into the
Doihng lat but it alays illustrates me
when ! get to thinking O Reuben.-Im
reminded sometimes o what Parson Hunt
er said to me: Miss Palmer, you mustn't
make an idol ofyour son. He belongs to
the Lord. i know it's true as Scriptur, but
cant help thinkin the Lordll show mar
sy op my weakness, cos he's all I've got,
ana after a great many struggles I've given
up the others to Him but my very life is
bound up in that boy, and if anything
should happen to him, God knows it would
break his poor old mothers heart" And