The Weekly Perrysburg journal. [volume] (Perrysburg, O. [Ohio]) 1861-1???, 1861-08-22
2rrrpshuyg 9unrnal.
SUMMER EVE MUSINGS.
LIFE P1CTuREs-oRIGiNAL.

EllOIt as luC present is, IL is US uTOou as
the universal 1t smiles on land and sea. on
prairie, mountain and desert, and it reaches
away up to Heaven And now as muse
by my window this bright moonlight eve,
my thoughts are wondering back over the
past, and though long, l think how short is
the time since l was little romping,
thoughtlcss child at school
Where and how are situated all those
little ones that then rovcd the fields with
me? They are all grown up and scattered,
or slumbcring in their graves. Many of
them are married, and are the happy hus-
bands and wives of loving companions, the
proud parents of prattling little ones, the
Industrious citizens of flourishing communi-
tics, the projectors of pleasant farms, the
mstresscs of happy homes! They are set
tied and they are happy; they live TO enjoy
lle--they live because there is an object
worth living for! May their lives be pro-
tractcd and their prosl Gets never bliGhtcd
Others again, are still ploddirg on an
single Bliss They, too, have seasons of
joy--thcy arc laborng in search of some
thing noblcr than mere food and ramcnt--
they are seeking the goodly pearl which a
waits the diiligcnt. They labor and wait
and live, because they fancy they enjoy life
Poor fellows. very few of them have homes
of their own. When the rain pclts or tic
or the SNOW drifts, it is not their roof that
protects. When wearicd and discouraged
with the labors of the day-whcn bcsct
with thick-coming troubles, it is not their
bed on which they rest; and, when ovcrtak-
Ell by care and sickness, it is only the hand
of friend that holds the aching head, or
screens the painful light only a friend that
speaks words of comfort to the troubled
heart; only friend who answers the thous-
andth call. There is no dear, second-self" f"
to hover round, watching the fcblc breath
and consoling the dcsponding spirits-no
doubly interested companion, seeing their
necessities before askcd--sccing, feeling
and relieving, because loving you! Poor
fellows, you have my sympathy!
Among those who used TO 'chasc with
me the flying hours" many have left "this
vale of tears" and taken up their abode
beyond the skies" Among this number
there was one little boy, with bright eyes,
lefty curls, merry voice and elastic step
He was an orphan child; but his adopted
father was proud of the promising son. He
was cherished as q real son; and the fond
care of the father was not in vain. The son
tried to repay the kindness by obedience
and love to the father. At school, too, littIc
Eddie was the pride and joy of his friends.
lie ran swiftly in the ways of knowledge -
his lessons were always mastered; and as
he grew older, his friends began to hope that
he would be brighter star in the literary
sky After time, Le fell victim to a IA
tai malady. His mind grew shattered, and
his reason fed! Many times have | seen
him as he sauntcrcd over field and wood
with his dog and gun, like one dcrangcd!
Twas sad, indeed, to see that form, so late
ly full of buoyant hope, now "like shadow,
slowly fitting by" Twas sad, too to hear
that hollow, grave-like voice, and remember
that it was SO lately "full Of llute-like music. y
But death came, at last, and now a neat little
stone is all that tells the talc-gone home!
There was another bright little boy that
| remember. They called him Johnny. lie
was younger than by some years; but for
some unknown reason or other, he took a
particular liking to ne. Every day he
would give me an apple OF peach, and he
would always lend me his book or slate or
knife, if he thought wanted it. Still, kind as
he was TO me, | was too selfish to return his
kindness. would always do my best to
shm him at playtime, and often refuse him
the least favor he would ask How | ever
managed TO be so cruelty selfish has always
been a mystery, to me! And now, while
am musing at my window, where is Johnny?
Johnny was absent from school one nom
ing rather rare thing for him. i thought
little of it then, only to rejoice that would
not be bothered by his questions. How
cruel Next day johnny was absent again,
and again! 1t was on the afternoon of the
seventh day-a bright Autumnal afternoon
that my mother cGmc in walked up to the
bed and laying off her shawl, said to me
Poor Johnny is dead !" All, how those
words shot through my soul! / was not
prepared to hear such tidings. Presently
she went on to tell how much he had suffer
ed, how much he had talked to his mother
about his school-his playmates, teacher,
books and play; and most of all how he had
talked Of me, and wondered, and wondered
again, why | didn't come to see him while
he was so sick? Here my mother paused a
moment, and wiped away tear, for she
knew that ! was not as kind to little johnny
as he was to me; and then went on to tell
how the little sufferer had wanted to
get well that he might come back to school
and see me! This was more than could
bear-I burst into tears, and breathed a
praycr-not from lips, but from my heart
that if God would forgive me this one time,
never would again mldndly use another
trusting little one, The next day, while the
soft wind was signing, and the evening sun
fast STOPPING to the western groves, they
laid this loving little one away to rest,
where the violet blossoms and the turtle dove
s.rgs, when the spring day is ended!
Our dear kind teacher, who used SO care
fully to lead the trusting lambs, continued
to pursue his Christian mission for a time;
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