Indiana American. [volume] (Brookville, Ind.) 1865-1872, 1865-12-22
twritssn for the Amsriesn.
DOWN BY THE SEASIDE.
sY MINNIE cAyAIIox.

u was . pleasant spot--thet e1rIy
home Of mine, down by the soa. kld -
The house. once white, had been Hinged
with rich cream color, and nowiy
hang with the greenest Of blinde' 1
thou ehs, a. looked at IL the night Afler.
the Transformation was complete. that
e vac n for the residences ot tbe Presi.
don't himself
Fronting the sca II was shaded by
four fne naples which grow upon tho
side walk, and stretched their boughs
over the roof. A little front yard with
. paved walk going from the front door
steps to the gate, stretched on the right
hand into q square, full Of springs and
rose bushes, over-tipped by = graceful
tamarac tree, on whose highest branch.
o. scores OF birds used TO eyrio In the
summer months. Perhaps they might
have found pieasanter place, but even
now doubt II. | have gone for from
tho place, and IL may DO that l shall
never look upon II my more, yet ever
and anon. as l wander through the
world violet springing nj my feet, u
bird singing IN tho air, liIt OF blue sky
beyond dis,ant hills, makes me boy
again, and brings tho old house so Wv
idly before mo thai / can almost sec tho
faces and hear the voices-nay, catch
the very words Of those who are living
there, and who have doubtless forgotten
mo ere this The spell IL on mo now,
aud looking back upon my early days
40 plainly, | enjoy two youths--l taste
those simple pleasures IN tho midst OF
,his artificial life, aud the flavor Ia more
exquisite than " uscd TO be before | bad
lesrucd 10 appreciate II.
Oh, that sunny old garden, with tho
plumed asparagus waving over the
spring bcside tho wall, with i,s long
rows of currant bushes, It's rod holly.
hooks and great sun flowers, turning
from east to west ns the day went by.
What a pleasant place II WAS 10 lilo Of u
summer afternoon on my back In the
grass, with tho red roses and the cur
rant bushes shading me.from the IN.
tense heat of the sky-to hear the ted
things rntllc, and the sound of voices
from The dining-room-to see the brown
marc como from the barn to drink at
tho spring--thcse were things 10 enjoy
and remember; and have dcne both.
But when tho long twilight faded into
night and the moon rose slowly behind
the woods, then wns the time TO seek the
other side.of the housc, TO sit in the
shade Of the ismarac tree, and to scent
the fragrant sweet brier that grew bo,
meath tho window. How l loved those
wild rosesl They wero connected some.
how in my mind with the memory OF o
dead sister. 1 don't know that she ever
loosened tho earth around their roots
or gave them water 10 her short life;
had never seen her wear them, but
never did these Offices myself without u
thought of her.
A green lane bordered this place,
about which invented a number of
stories, and down which strsyed some
times ia the moonlight, with my favor.
ite volume Of Kirk White in my hand.
IL was not u healthy existence that led
in the old house, am afraid, and TO
that cause ascrbe the shy melancholy
(f may give such name 10 the feel
ing which is not sadness.) that has ac-
companied me through lite. AS look
back upon my younger self l see a
strange contrad,ction-two characters
in one-iwo boys in one-tho first gay,
noisy fellow, forever in mischief, and
loving play far better than study; the
second . dreamy student, hiding from
his fellows. pouring over qneer books,
and dreaming strange dreams in soli-
tude; hardly know which ought TO
have been the real me. l only know
that chance aud change have developed
the latter self, and that the dreamy stu.
dent has merged into the shy, abstract
ed man, while the riotous boy fingers
in the past, together with many other
things that was promised, but have ney-
er been performed.
was the only child in my uncle's
house. but it was gay with young girls,
just dancing into womanhood. Where
roses grow, bees and butterflies are
sure TO hover, and o continual relay OF
students from the one medical college
in The village were posted in my un-
cle's dining-rooms, the parlors or the
garden. l looked on in silence, for |
was but q boy, and of not much impor-
tance in my cousins eyes. But when
l saw Lucy, the eldest, tho farest o.!
them all, come down stairs or cross the
room, how fast my heart beat how
quick my eyes clouded overl She was
tall, magnificent brunette, with bair
like night, and such beaatiiul large black
eyes,-eyes that had no need of words,
but vent straight TO the heart, and nev.
er left it more. A clear crimson flushed
the olive of her cheek, deeper shade
dyed her scornfu lip, and she walked
as Cleopatra might have done when she
stepped upon her gallery to meet Mark
Anthony.
My cousin Lucy was a coquette, and
twcnty-four years old; l was a shy
sch ool boy of fifteen, and yet knew
we'll that not one of those who hung up
on her words and lived within her
smiles, could love her better'or worship
ber more ardentIy than /. Without
one hope of winning fond glance from
those proud eyes, was yet ready 10 lie
down and die for her; without one
thought of ever being more to her than
Was then, could have found it in my
heart TO remove the man she loved. Ii
was no bed of roses on which to lay
So far as Lucy was concerned, uncon-
leciousIy TO herself, she led me bewild.