Cedar Falls gazette. [volume] (Cedar Falls, Iowa) 1860-1895, 1866-09-07
A Beautiful Sketch,

A Beautiful sketch.
The Knickerbocker, for July, says
very appropriately, that "many an over
praised novel, in these latter days, does
not possess half the naturalness and
true feeling of this little sketch" ":
Sarcastic people are wont to say that
poets dwell in garrcts, and simple peo-
pie believe it. And others, neither sar-
castle nor simple, send them up aloft,
among rubbish, just because they do
not know what to do with them down
stairs and "among folks,' and so they
class them under the head of rubbish,
and consign them to the grand rccepta-
bic of dilapidatod ''has-beens" and
"uscd to be's"-the old garret.
The garret is to the other parts Of the
homestead, what the advtrb is to the
pcdagogue in parsing; everything they
do not know how to dispose Of is con-
signed to the list of adverbs. And it is
for this precise reason that we love gar
rets; because they do contain the relies
of the old and past-souvenirs Of other
and happier and simpler times.
They have come to build houses now
a-days without garrcts. Impious inno-
walton!
You man of bronze md "bearded like
the pard," who would make people be-
lieve, if you could, that you were never
"a toddlin' wee thing" that you new
or wore n "rifie Dress" or jingled a rat
tle-box with infinite delight; that you
never had a mother, and that she never
became an old woman, and never wore
caps and spcctaclcs, and maybe took
snuff;-go home onco more, after all
these years of absence, all booted and
whiskcred, and six feet high as you are,
and let us go up the stairs together; in
that old fashioned spacious garrct that
extends from gable to gable, with its
narrow oval windows, with u spider
web of sash, through which steals "a
dim religious light" upon museum of
things unnamablc, that once figured
below stairs, but were long since crowd
ed out by the Vandals of these modern
times. .s.#
The loose boards of the floor rattle
somewhat rs they used to do--dOn't
they ?--whcn beneath your pattering
feet they clattercd aforetimc, when.
of a rainy day, "mother." wearied with
many-tongued Importantly, granted
the e"Letusgou to the garrct and play"
And play? Precious little "play" have
you had since, we'll warrant, with your
looks Of dignity and dreamings Of ambi-
ton.
Here we arc now in the midst of tho
garrct. The old barrel-shall we rum
mage it? Old files of newspapers--dus-
ty, yellow, little tattercd! 'Tis the
columbian Star!" How familiar
with the Letters or papers for father!"
And these same "Stars" just damp from
the press, We're carried one by one from
the fireside. and perused and preserved
as they ought to be. Stars? Damp?
Ah many star has set since then,
and many new-tufted heap grown
dewey with rain that fell not from the
clouds.
Dive deeper into the barrel! There
A bundle comes up in cloud of dust.
Old Almanacs, by all that is memora-
BILE! Almanacs, thin-leaved lcdgers of
time, going back to-let us see how far:
1871, 1888, 1872. before our time, 1S0-,
when our mothers were children. And
the day-book-how blotted and blurred
with many records and many tears!
There, you have hit your head against
that beam. Time was when you ran to
and fro beneath it, but you are nearer
to it now, by more than the latitude of
a copine." That beam is strown with
forgotten papers ofseeds for next years
sowing; a distaff, with some few shreds
of flax remaining, is thrust in crevice
of the rafters overhead, and tucked
away close under the caves is tho '.little
wheel" that used to stand by the fire
in times long gone. Its sweet, low song
has ceased, and perhaps-perhaps she
drew those flaxen threads-but never
remember the line, don't
you?
Her wheel at rest, the matron charms no
more.
Well, let that pass. DO you see that
little craft cornered in that dark corner?
IL was red once; it was the only casket
in the house once, and contained q
mothers jewels. The old red cradle,
for all the world! And you occupied it
once, great as you are, it was your world
once, and over it the only horizon you
beheid, bent the heaven of mothers
eyes, as you rocked in that little barque
Of love, on the hither shore of time
fast by mothers love to mothers
heart.
And there, attached to two rafters,
are the fragments of an UNFINISHED rope.
Do you remember 1t, and what was it
tOr, and who fastened 1t there? "nrwas
he children's swingp You are here,
indeed, but where are Nelly and Char
ey? There hangs his little cap by that
and there the little red frock
,he used to wear. A crown is resting
,n his cherub brow, and her robes are
'p0tless in the better land.
REMEMBER.-It is not what people
lat, but what they digest, that makes
hem strong. It's not what they gain.
out what they save that makes them |
rich. 1t is not what they read, but
what they remember that makes them
earned. 1t is not what they profess,
out what they practice that makes
hem good.
"You seem to walk more erect than
usual, my friend" "Yes, / have been |
straightened by circumstances"