Pomeroy weekly telegraph. [volume] (Pomeroy, Meigs County, Ohio) 1860-1866, 1861-05-17
anisrellanu.
T H E E G H o.
AN INTERESTING AND PROFITABLE STORY

Mr. Harlow sauntered listlessly about
his garden walks; the long summer
twilight was drawing to close, and the
moon had hung her silver bow in the
east. The hour was Eeautiful, and the
place i'll which he walked one to delight
the heart. But seeing, he saw not, and
hearing, he heard not, for his mind was
with his ledger and tangled business af-
fairs.
Mr.. Harlow did business in Boston
and resided in one Of the adjoining su-
burban towns. He had recently pur-
chased a pretty little place, and his
family rejoiced in the exchange from a
narrow city street, to the lovely gardens
surrounding their new home.
At the foot Of the garden was little
woody dell, which had been purposely
left in its natural state. a brook
leaped musically down its rocky bed,
and then, taking sud en- turn, wound
placidly through green meadow
Here the five children Of Mr. Harlow
were playing, and their shouts Of glee
rung out upon the evening air.
Papa, Papa!'' cried sturdy little
Harry, appearing at the top of the bank
'come and hear our echo. Ellen says
it is the sweetest echo she ever heard, we
have called to it again and again, and it
answers back just what we say
Mr. Harlow followed his son mechan-
ically, but when he stood in the midst
of the laughing troop of children, he
came out of his troubled reverie.
''Oh, father! we have found an echor'
they cried, together. "Hark-it shall
call 'fa+her,'" said Susan. Father ~
and the echo answered "Father?'
"Isn't it PLEASANT said Ellen, the
eldest, thoughtful girl of twelve years.
''If we stand in this spot, the echo
speaks just once, clearly and distinctly;
but little to the right or left, it is re-
peated two or three times
81 always like to hear an, echo, said
the father with a smile.
s'Hallo, old echo!' SHOUTED Harry
jumping up and down, and the response
made him shout and laugh again.
where do you liver called Nelson
''Sweet echo! sweet echo?' cried Su-
san, and the woodland -sprite grew quite
wild in answering to their merry calls
"What is it, papa?' asked Eddie, the
three-yea old pet, as he clung timidly
to his fathers side; "who is it thai
speaks?"
at is the nymph of the stream, or the
goddess of these woods said Nelson
with a patronizing air. He had been
reading mythology.
"Don't you be afraid, Eddie" said
Ellen, kindly taking her little brothers
hand; ',it is the sound of our own words
coming back to u.s.
"The dew is falling, let US go into the
house" said the father, and he turned
from the place, followed by his children
Ellen walked by his side. "Father, the
echo reminds me of something [ read
the other day 1t was a piece about
moral echoes-it is said that if we spoke
kindly, almost always we should hear
the echo in kind reply; and everything
we do or say awakes echoes in onr owr
hearts, and the hearts of those bout US.
Very true, dear Ellen; you are quite
a moralist."
In the society of his family the shad,
ows were charmed from Mr.. Harlow
brow, but when he lay upon his pillow
busy, troubled thoughts banished sleep
He had been speculating somewhat aside
from his regular business, and was con
sequently harrasscd with too much care
AS the day dawned he sank into itfu
slumber, which gave no refreshment te
his wearied mind and body.
A cheerful group gathered around
the breakfast table-fve smiling, happy
children, and their gentle mother