Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1861-04-16
NO. XVI,
For the Spectator.
Old VS.. New.
BY MRS. eEoRG1E A. HUIsE MCLEOD.

Old VS.. New.
BY MRS. GEORGIE A. HULSE MCLEOD.
The adjective told" is certainly one of the
most suggestive in the English language. What
q varied train of thought does it awaken as q
prefix. "Old Grimes"-"Old Mortality"-"Old
Duncan Grey" and away far off, the aged Mich
olas are suggestive of different ideas certainly
With the last named venerable we do not care
for closer acquaintance, preferring to give him
all the benefit of that enchantment which dis
tance lends to the view.
ssOld Grimes" is associated with our earliest
"reminiscences of childhood, and lingering sur
prise why the coat appertaining to that individ-
ual, should be immortalized as "all buttoned
down BEFORE" when we could not remember
one that buttoned any other way.
With "Old Mortality" we became familiar in
later years, and gazed long upon his semblance
in "Laurel HILL" The old mans self-appointed
work was one dear to every heart which has its
place of graves.
'Old Duncan Grey" poor fellow we forgaye
him when we heard bird-like voice song of the
parting with his bonny bride, whom he called
his so brief q time. Rather 8 strange preface
this to dedicate new writing desk, and pro-
pitiate the muses., who, by the way, do not
grow old.
never liked bran new articles from my ju-
venie years up to date. Were they dresses, I
felt uncomfortable as though on a propriety vis-
it, until rent or an iHk spot brought back the
home feeling. Were they shoes, they invariably
cramped my pedal extremities. Was it bonnet,
i nearly rolled my eyes into fixed stars at first
wearing, in my mad efforts to admire the brim.
New scenes--l soon grew weary of them, and
found greater charms in lays of 1.-THE Old
Homestead" New friends, now could learn
to love them as / Gid those who had so long
made beautiful for me lifes joDrneyinga New
books-I waver here; | search them earnestly,
but after all are they not echoing thoughts of
those who wrote long years ago9 The same
silken string which held q necklace with but
the golden beads exchanged for pearls.
Old and new! With some pleasure, too,
examine this new writing desk, to replace that
used for SO many years. 1t is very fair to look
on, in its polished case its dainty appointments,
(selected though by an old, tried friendly its blue
velvet lining, which will keep unsullied fair
sheets committed to its keeping; the chased
handle for my per, and the new, well-flled Ink
stand. All is ready for the record of my
thoughts, but they are following its battered
predecessor, laid aside as unfit for use. Ahl
well-a-dsy, one reverie INDUCED in to its men,
ory, and then to work again. 1t was bridal
gift from one who fonGly cared for the girlish
scribbler, and can remember with what child
ish eagerness l examined the treasure. / was
far away then, in an English home near the sea.
But wearied of looking upon the vessels bear
ing the banner of st. George. When sometimes
chanced to see the American flag, upon some
barque from my own native land, my heart
grew almost still for joy, and / could have wept
as at the sight of q long absent friend.
We have had many talk, old desk, because
of this, and very safely didst thou shrine the
thoughts my trembling fingers penned. Thou
hast kept many treasure since, and some /
leave with thee still, for thou, too, shalt be
fondly guarded for the memory of the past
With reverend touch life them one by ONE
Here is letter from fair young bride. Beau
tiful, gifted, dearly loved. Another later, from
the same pen. Aye, she was a proud and hap
py mother. And yet another-it wassthe last
bringing me tidings of an angel born in heaven;
for the young child-wife was motherless. That
was years ago. know not whether she is still
of earth for have vainly sought tidings OF one
whom do not forget
Here are flowers pressed, yet retaining traces
of the beauty which prompted me to Gull them
in the land of flowers, fair Florida. How many
bright dreams blessed me then, whose waking
came TOO soon. My native land, still dear are
thy garden paths, and sacred the memory of
some, for my most loved there sleep, but wake
not.
This envelope has nought of words, but speaks
volumes in its mute eloquence. The light falls
on a; silken curl, and makes it golden Ahi
how often and fondly has its soft sheen twined
around my fingers; now, its tendrils clasp about
my heart, as with chain that may not be bro
ken. Little faded earth-fower, I see thee now
through binding tears, dropping thy bright head
for the last time on thy mothers bosom, but she
knew it not. She had heard of death, but it had
never come SO near her heart. She did not
know that as the baby head dropped lower the
young lite ebbed. sit is WE'LL" she said, ''my
darling sleeps" and the curls fell over the pale
pure face, yelling it from her sight
Very beautiful, he was in the last sleep, with
snowy buds about him when Graded for the
tomb.
There are little robes that were fashioned with
80 much care, laid away with reverential touch.
There are broken toys, picture on memory's
wall of brightest beauty, and this one ringlet,
from above that marble brow; there is a white
tablet in place of graves, with its broken lily,
and pure white dove, and these are all that love
may cling to here below
But there, up there, beyond the stars, a form of
light awaits our coming, where ''their angels do
look upon the face of the Father"
Old writiDg-desk! take back into thy keeping
talismans that call forth tears When / ana old
| will add to these others, not less dear. "When
am Oldp All ! idle words. Perhaps ere then
stranger hands may clasp my treasures: Those
who knew me not wonder why such things
were garneredl
Southern Literary Instituted
Baltimore, Md.