Weekly Trinity journal., 1861-11-30
\ IgrnseulbrI.

A pair of blue eyes -leng sunny brown curls
and lips that wonld make you think OF ripe cher
ries, us mach as those cheeks would OF roses,
remember pair OF dimpled arms and shdnt'
ders u large straw hat wreathcd with flowers -
aud crimson frock trimmed with white braid /
"A pair of red morocco shoes aud pinalore.
| remember little brown cottage among tho
maple, where n laughing, babblng stream mean
dcred by, aud the birds sang all day loag-the
steep hill at the right-the garden with its
wealth of marigolds.' touch-me-nots' and
evening beauties," the porch fesooned with
"mornng glories," the graveed path bordered
with pinks leading to the gale-the old well
with its iron bound bucket aud unwicldly sweep
and moss-ned cutb-and martin boz, and tho
white curtains at the parlor windows.
Iremambar the blue skies and doNny clouds
nacked with crimson, and starry nights when the
moon shOnc, and water nights when the snow
Law on the ground, when there was Ginning OF
bells and peals OF laughter. remember snatch
cs of rhyme and plttering of little lect-and the
noiie of playful chattering To dolls-and tho
chime of broken dishes and certain performances
on Jews harps
remember great deal more than all this. |
remember day when toys and dolls were gnlh-
cred up and put away by careful hands-when
the little worn rcd shoes and crimson rock and
white pinalore were laid away, almost sacredly
In an unused drawer up stairs when there was
no langhcr-no patterng OF footsteps. When
the crib was showed back against the wall, and
the little empty chair was put back in IL distant
corner. | rcmcmber-tears and means and
little, calm, dead face in Il co'lia.
De1ai did say deM! No. no, Hat cannot
be you are living in my heart in my memory,
darling; living whore no sickness or pain can
come, no death destroy, In HeapsA, thank God
There is a little grave, out under the naples
there are many such little graves there are very
many broken hearts, well it IS there Is one who
can neal them,
There are mauy vacant cribs. and empty chairs,
aud desolate homes. What should we do ii he
had not said:
Suffer little cldllten to come into me-
Lot me see the little crib, and chair, and Grim
son dress, aud the red shoes, and the the white
pnafore don't hide them away Sucw tho
pavthings that she loved, the bits Of broken
china, the Jews harp, the dolls, and paper dresses
all around. may shed tears over them but
they'll not be bitter ones, The prints Of little
fingers upon the furniture dom erase them the
marks Of little footsteps here and there, don't
cliace them; the little hat with faded llower5
twisted around it, let II hang where her little
hands put it that won't greye me now don Z
turn up the d0g.eared leaves OF her little sollcd
primer her fingers made them. Put plate at
the table where she used to sit, aud high chair
at its place-t will seem the more as If she was
at play, or running in the gardeni not as II we
had shut her out not Us If she were dcdd
! remember aye, and who does not remem-
berY Who is there on the wide earth who has
not some sacred memory hid away from the pry-
ing eyes Of the world d?-some recollection he
tween which and mammon 3 worshipper veil IS
forever drawn Who could quite forget If he
would aye, who would quite forget if he could