The Grand Haven news. [volume] (Grand Haven, Mich.) 1858-18??, 1863-06-17
MINNIE, MY SISTER.
By GRACE LEE.

She had blue eyes, red cheeks, and
curling hair; wore blue, embroidered
dress, white apron and little blue gait
ters. A gypsy hat rested lightly upon
her brown curls, and she was accompanied
by small white dog, with pink rib
bon around its neck. Had habit of
singing low and sweetly to herself, and
was beloved by all.
Has any one seen my sisterG 1t is a
long time since she went away; now l
have noble husband, fine house and
much company; but to night I wish l
were girl again, and had my little sister
to watch over. l wish could be called
from my writing desk TO find some mus
lin for dolly dress; to look for lost
story book; to take up dropped stitches in
dolly's stocking; or to find some stray
playthings-yet these things used to
fret me once.
My guests say, How quiet it is here;
what nice time you have for reading"
But my ears are aching for noise; to
hear sweet childish voice and the pat
tering of little feet; to hear the continued
drumming on the piano just for fun, or
the ringing laughter of youthful voices in
on adjoining parlor when l had compa-
ny; but these things made me nervous
once.
They say, "What an orderly, put
away-look everything wears" But my
eyes are longing for confusion. l want
to find my work-basket turned into
prison for some recreant dolly, and my
thimble, spools, and scissors claiming no
relationship to each other; to find my
choice books taken to build houses with,
and left lying upon the carpet; to find
my drawing-book in the front entry, and
my portfolio in the kitchen; to find my
magazines taken for picture books and
bearing the stains of fruit and candy; TO
have my flowers broken down in playing
ball with kitty; 10 look in vain for a new
book, and hear a sweet voice say, 81
took it into nay playhouse, sister, to
make a loot-stool;' yet these things made
me angry once.
Ny friends say, I" How free you are;
always at liberty for concerts and lectures,
picnics and balls" But do not want to
be so free. l want to brush my little sis
ter's curls on q summer morning, and lis
ten for the school bell, and watch little feet
bounding away to school. l want to re-
main at home from concert to finish
little dress TO be worn on some extra oc-
casion tomorrow. | want to be teased
to sing when come home from school,
cold and tired; l want to be kept from
q party TO watch by little one when
sister can take care of me better" |
want TO sit by crib in the deepening
twilight and tell oft-ropeatcd stories, and
Watch the eyelids droop over the blue
eyes and listen to the calm, low breath
ing of childhood. Yet these things l
called irksome duties once.
They do not know their happiness then,
these older sisters; they do not know
that in after years, when life no longer
wears "The coloriug Of romance it wore,"
memory will fling open wide the portals
of the mind and wander back to those
sunny days, when "Life was all sweet
poesy, and WEAKNESS a dream" as the
happiest season Of our life on earth.-
They do not know the happiness con-
tanned in performing those simple acts
l did not.
A womanly figure, tall and graceful,
stands before me now. The brown hair
is brushed back from the broad, low fore
head, and wound in heavy coil at the
back. The eyes are blue as the summer
skies and beaming with intelligence