Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1864-09-23

kpGcldb OstSbROuuOHCO VI t1O O0dthdAOOEd
Rebel, now published at Griffin, Ga
How do love little girls, to say nothing
Of one of maturer years. There is nothing
in nature SO lovely, SO innocent, SO fasci-
mating, and at the same time SO full OF
gayety and pl.yfulncss. The tender and
delicate affections to which their natures
are mo1lded. are beginning unconsciously
to develope themselves, and everything
beautiful and affecting in nature claims
from them smile or tear-a deep but
momentary interest. They have a tear for
the weaued lamb. for the dropping flower,
and even for the wandering mendicant,
though afraid to approach Elm. The feel
iugs Of the soul are conspicuous in every
muscle Of the face and turn Of the eye
Their hearts are like suftened wax, and
the imps ession there made, lasts forever.
Such beings are nearest akin to angels, and
are the connecting links that join US to a
better world. Those were little girls Of
whom it was said, '.Suffar little children
to come unto me. and forbid them not, for
of such is the kingdom Of heavon."
| had just emerged from the barbershop
beneath the Montgomery Hall, the abiding
place in this city Of all Bohemians The
sun was gliding with its earliest rays the
dome Of the State House, the streets were
quiet, only here and there industrious
tradcsmen were removing shutters from
doorsways aud windows; servant girls were
sweeping the dust from stone steps, and not
far away two little girls with wreathes OF
roses about their brows. filed the air With
the music Of their soft, sweet voices. A
thoughtful mother had sent them forth to
iuhalo the morning breozes Of summer
time, which sweeps SO softly, burdened
with tho perfume of another Paestum over
the queeniy and beautiful city of Montgom-
cry Innocence and mirth, unclouded by
thoughts of relentless war, gave lustre to
the eyes and brightness to the steps of those
fairy-like little children.
A dray. freighted with rnde coain,
came slowly down the middle Of the street
The negro driver was silent, and the whip
be h.bi'ually bore, lay unused beside him.
An old man, perhaps seventy years Of age,
with long white hair, bowed down by the
lapse of years, heart broken by the loss Of
his only son, followed the dray with un-
steady steps. The son had died in the army
hospital, and the aged father was the only
mourner who accompanied the body to the
grave. As the dray passed on. shop keep.
srs reverently raised their hats Tho few
loungers along the pavemenss gazed sor-
rowfully on the sad spectacle. such as they
had never expected to behold. They read
in the facts before them an episode in the
history Of the war, which made them con-
scious Of its terrible reality. Servant girls
leaned on their broom handles, and with
sorrowful looks, pointed to the broken
hearted old man who walked on so feebly
and helplessly as he followed the corpse
The dray passed near the two little girls
| had approached. Their merriment ceased;
the music of their laughter was hushed
They stood still, and with eyes wide open,
gazed on the old man whose downcast looks
and unsteady steps told touching story,
SO simple that even children read and sym
pathzed I heard the elder say. s.This is
the old man who came to get food for his
son in the hospital. He said then the poor
boy could not live. He is dead now, and
his father is taking him to the grave. am
so sorry, sister, that be is alone. Let us
put these flowers on his coffin as We did
upon our brothers when he died
The dray drew near, and the little chill
dren went out to the old man. In simple,
touching accents of heartfelt sympathy,
they made their wishes known. For the
lirst time tears believed tie cheeks Of the
broken hearted father. The dray stood
still, and with trembling hands he placed
the wreaths of roses on the unpublished cof-
I'm. Turning to the little girls be said
'.God bless you, my children. The force
Of this terrible blow is broken by your sym
pathy. All human hearts have net been
hardened by the horrors of the war. God''
blessing shall rest upon yon always.
have lost nay son, bat there are others ye
whom | may love-"
The dray moved slowly on and the ole
man followed with lightar step thar
before. Angels had smiled and soothee
his grief The golden chord Of human
sympathy. which binds our hearts together
10 the midst Of ceaseless woes, had beer
electrified. It's links extend though tbt
great heart Of humanity. from childhood tt
apa ond oro ontmiuod about tho fhrnuo n