, 1865-06-16

He had black eyes with long lashes, red cheeks
and hair almost black and curly. He wore q
crimson plaid jacket, with full trousers buttoned
on; had habit of whistling, and liked to ask
questions; was accompanied by small black
dog 1t is along while now since he disappeared.
have very pleasant house and much company
Ever ything has such an orderly, put-away look,
nothing about under foot-no dirt. But my
eyes are aching for the sight of whittlings and
cut paper on the floor, of tumbled-down card
houses of wooden sheep and cattle; ofpop guns,
bows and arrows, whips, tops, go-carts, blocks
and trumpery ] want to see boats a-rigging and
kites a-making. Iwant to see crumbles on the
carpet and paste split on the kitchen table.
want to see the chairs and the tables turned the
wrong way about. | want to see candy-making
and corn-poping, and to find jack-knives and
fish hooks among the mdslins. These things
used to fret me once. They say How quiet hereP
Ahl one here may settle his brains, and be at
peace But my ears are aching for the patter-
ing of little feet for hearty shout, shrill whis
tie gay ira la la; for the crack of little whips;
for the noise of drums, ffes and tin trumpets.
Yet these things made me nervous once.
They say 'Ah, you have leisure, nothing to
disturb you. What heaps of sewing you have
time forp But l long to be disturbed. l want
to be asked for a bit of string, an old newspa-
peri for a cent to buy slate-pencil or peanuts.
Iwant to be coaxed for piece of new cloth for
ibis and mainsails, and then to hem the same. |
want to make little flags, and bags to hold mar
bles want to be followed by little feet all
over the house, teased for a bit of dough for a
little cake to bake pie III saucer. Yet
these things used to hdget me once. They
say, 'Ahl you are not tied at home. How delight
full to be always at liberty for concerts, lectures
and parties No confinement for YOU But
want confinement. l want to listen for the
school bell mornings, to give the last hasty
wash and brush, and then watch from the win
dow nimble feet bounding away to school. |
want frequent rents to mend, and to replace lost
buttons want to 6bliterate mud-stains, fruit
stains molasses-stains, and paints of all cclors.
want to be sitting by little crib, of evenings,
when weary tile feet are at rest, and pratting
voices are hushed, that mothers may sing their
lulabys, and tell over the oft repeated stories.
They don't know their happiness then, those
mothers; didn't. All these things called con-
fnement once.
manly figure stands before me now. He is
taller than /, has thick whiskers, wears frock-
coat. bosomed shirt and cravat. He has just
come from college He brings Latin and Greek
in his countenance, and dust of the old philoso-
pliers for the sitting-room. He calls me mother,
but am rather unwilling to own him. he AYERS
that he is my boy, and says that he can prove it,
He brings his little boat to show the red stripe
on the sail (it was the end of the peiee) and the
name on the stern. Lucy Lowe, little girl Of
our neighbor, who, because Of long curls and
pretty round face was the chosen favori:e of my
boy The curls were long since cut off, and she
has grown tall and handsome. How his face
reddens as he shows me the name on the boatl
OIL see It alias plain If it was written in a
book, Ny little boy is lost, and my big boy soon
viii be. Oh, wish he we're little tired boy in
a long, white night-gown, lying in his crib, with
me sitting nv holding his hand in mine push
ing Che curls back from his foreheadi watching
his eyelids droop, and listening to his deep
breathing -.
If only bed NY little boy again, how patient
would bel How much would bear, and how
little l would fret aud scoldl can new
er have him back again. but there are still many
mothers who have not lost their little boys. /
wonder if they know they are seeing their best
days; that now is the time to really enjoy their
chldrenl l think if had been more to my lit
tie boy, might now be more to my grown up
one