East Saginaw courier. (East Saginaw, Mich.) 1859-18??, 1861-04-11
NUMBER 81.
A Picture Of Home.

i recall home long since left behind
in the journey Of life, and its memory
floats back over me with shower Of emo
tions and thoughts towards whose preci-
Gus fall my heart opens itself grsedily
like thirsty flower. It's . home among
the mountains--humble and homely--
but priceless in its wealth Of associations.
The waterfall sings again in my ears, ss
it used to thro' tho dreamy, mysterious
nights. The rose at the gate, the patch
of tansy under the indow, the neighbor-
ing orchard, the old slm, tho grand MA
chinory of storms and showers, the little
smithy under the hill that famed with
strange lights through the dull winter
evenings, the wood pile at the door, the
ghostly white birches on the hill, and the
dim, blue haze on the retiring mountains
all these come back to me with an ap-
peal that touches my heart and moistsns
my eyes. | sit again in the doorway at
summer nightfall, eating my bread and
milk, looking off upon the darkening land
scape, and listening to tho shouts of boys
upon the hillside, calling or driving home
the reluctant herds. watch again the
devious way of the dusky nighthawk along
the twilight sdy, and listen to his meas
nred note, and the breezy boom that ac-
companies his headlong plunge towards
the earth.
Even the old barn, crazy in every tim
Der and gaping at every joint has charms
for me. l try again the breathless flesp
from the great beams in the hay. sit
again on the threshold of the widely open
doors-open to the soft, south wind tof
Spring-and watch the cattle, whose
faces look half human to me, ~ they sun
themselves, and peacefully ruminate,
while drop by drop the melting snow on
the roof drill holes through the wasting
drifts beneath the caves. The first little
lambs of the season tottle by the side Of
their dams, and utter their feeble blsst-
ings, while the flock nibble at the hay
rack, or a pair Of rival wethers try the
strength of their skulls in On encounter,
half in earnest and half in play. The
proud old rooster crows upon his dung
hill throne, and some delighted member
of his silly family leaves her nest, and tells
to her mates and to me that there is an
other egg in the world. Tho old horse
whinnies in his stall, and calls to me for
food. l look up to the roof and think of
last years swallows-soon to return again
and catch glimpse os angular sky
through the diamond-shaped opening that
gave them ingress. How, l know not,
and care not, but that the old barn is
part of myself-it has entered into my
life and given me growth and wealth.
And / look into the house again, where
the life abides, which has appropriated
these things and finds among them its
home. The hour Of evening has come,
the lamps are lighted, and good man in
middle life-though very old he seems to
me-takes down his Bible and reads .
chapter from its hallowed pages. A
sweet woman sits at his side, with my
sleepy head upon her knees, and brothers
and sisters are grouped reversntly around
me. do not understand the words, but
l have been told that they are the words
of God, and believe it. The long chap
ter ends, and then we all kneel down, and
the good man prays.
/ fall asleep with my head in the chair,
and the next morning remember moth
ing how went to bed. After breakfast
the Bible is taken down and the worship
repeated, through all the days Of my
golden years. The pleasant converse Of
the freside, the simple songs Of home,
the words of encouragement as bend
over my school tasks, the kiss as lie
down to rest, the patient bearing with
the freaks of my restless nature, the gen.
tie counseis mingled with reproof and ap-
proval, the sympathy that meets and as
suages every sorrow and sweetens every
little success,--all these return to mo
amid the responsibilities which press up
on me now, and feel as if had once
lived in heaven, and straying, had lost
my way.
Well the good man grew old and weary,
and fell asleep at last, with blessings upon
his lips for me. Some of those who call
ed him father, lie side by side in the same
calm sleep. The others are scattered
and dwell in new homes, and the old house
and barn and orchard have passed into
the hands of strangers who have learned,
or are learning to look upon them as do
now. Lost, ruined, forever left behind,
that home is mine to-day A. truly as il
ever was, for have | not brought il away
with me and shown it to you? II was
the home of my boyhood. In it found
my first mental food, and by it was my
young soul fashioned. To me, through
weary years and many dangers and sor.
rows, it has been perennial fountain OF
delight and purifying influences, simply
because it was my home, and was and is
part Of me. The rose at the gate blooms
for me now. The landscape when sum.
mon it, and / hear the voices that call
me from lips which memory makes i'm
mortal.-Dr. j. q. Holland,