The Greene County Republican. [volume] (Waynesburg, Pa.) 185?-1867, 1866-08-08
N @. 10.

"Eu you can near the tnkllng of the
rifle, as it sharpens the edge ct Times
symbol Another wipes the beaded
drops f,om his brow, and then swath
notes blond again in full orchestra
Onward still, they are hidden in the
waving grass-al but a broken row of
nroad brmmrd hats, that, rising and
'a'li''g seem to float slowly over the top
OF the meadow.
Te" o'clock and a .loudcss sky. The
o'rdS ana the naples silent and still;
not HITTER in the blue sky, a solitary
hawk Is slowly swinging IN airy CIRCLES
over the farm. Far down in the breath.
less lake sweep his shadow fellows w.
The long. yellow ribbon of road leadino
10 town IS qniver with heat. "Brins
oIe' and Bet stand doing in tho
marshi the sheep are painting in the
angles OF the fences; the horses are eroun.
ed beneath the old tree Pedro
the faithful guardian of the night, has
crawled under the wagon for its Shadow.
now and then swapping in his sleep at
Inc HES that hum around his pendant
ear the cat has crept up into the leafy
ontIernut and stretched herself at length,
upon a Limb, to sleep; the canary is
dreaming on his drowsy perch; and even
the butterflies, weary of hickerinp in tho
sunShines, rest, like full blown exotics m
the reeds. The children of a neiphbor,
ing school, all flushed and glowing.
come bounding down the slope in COUP.
les, the old red pail swung up between.
aud tie clatler OF the windless betokens
the old oaken bucket already dripping
up INTO the sun, with Its brimming wealth
OF water.
Twelve o'clock, and breathless noon
Inc corn fairly curls in the steady blaze
The SUN has driven the shadows around
under the west and north walls: il has
reached the noon mark on the threshold
and pours the broad beams into the hall.
the morning glories have struck their
colors, and little vine trailed IN tbo
wall by string off shroud, shows de-,
cIded symptoms of letting 60 The horn
winds tor dinner, but its welcome notes
surprises the mowers In the midst of the
meadow, and they'll cut their way ont
like good soldiers, despite their signal.
Back We are again to the field, ave.
ana PACK too, upon the threshold of
childhood. A chance breath watts to ia
the sweet cld,fashioned fragrance Of tho
new.mown hay, and we are vounoor in
memory than well ever be again. The
angry hum .of bees just thrown ont Of
house aud home, and the whistling quail
as she whirled timidy away before ibe
steady sweep OF the whetted scy,hes; and
the shout of the children as tho noxt
stroke laid open their summer hopes TO-
day; and the bell tones of the bob. o.links
swinging upon the willows in the "IIol,
low' Can't you hear---don't you re-.
member them alR
And have you forgotten the green
knoll under the widespread beec6-cr
was it maple! And how hungry Won
were, at the morning lunch, lust from
sympathy, though you hadn't searnod
your salt for week! And the brown
jug filled with pure water, and in ,bese
olden times, you know-the little black
bottle with something stronger, lust 80
quality it, as they said, thot nestled to.
golher, amid the cool and dewy grass in
the fence corner. We are sure yon ro a.
member how magnificent loads went
inmbIng into the barn, you upon tbs
top, and how they heaped the nav bov
INTO the empty 'mows' till it was half ~
high as the laddcr---up to the bio bc,m
up to the swallow hole; and how Won
crept up with n young group, and hid
away in a dark corner, festooned with
cobwebs, and played you were a painter
or 'catamounaln,' and growcd terrifcaI.
Iy, to the unspeahable dread of your Ii,
tie brother, or cousin, or somebody Or.
weary Of the f'olic, how you lay upon
the hay and counted tho dust sunbeams
as they streamed through the creyices Of
the loose siding, and wondered how thew
got out again, and how many it took to
make day, and passed your finger
through them to and fro, and maryejIed
that you felt nothing.
Many time, your know, Won crent
through that same NOW with Mary
Gray-'Dont you remember Mary! She
lived m the house just over the hill
Have you forgot how you went straws
berrylng together? You picked in her
basket--don't deny it-you always felt
happier than when you filed your own,
though you never knew why. You had
a queer feellrg sometimes about the
hoart, though You never knew what
You have found it all out since, no doubt.
And Mary-what has become of herr
Why, there is reaper whose name is
Death that goes forth to the harvest in
sweetest Spring and latest Autumn, and
deepest Winter as well, and Mary and
Ellen Jane were long ago bound up in
he same sure bundle Of lite. l
Seven o'clock, and clear night
The shadows and the mist are rising in
he vaIleys-'he frogs have set up their
,horus in the swamp-the fire-flies. are
howing light off the marsh-the whip.
'oor- wills begin their melancholy song
: star blazes beautifully over the
op OF the woods, and the fair beings
nat people our childhood come abont
Is, In the twil'ght--the fair beings,
Who set as scts the morning star that goes
SoI down behind the darkcned west, nor hides
,oscureu ,.,s % amidst the tempest of the sky,
SUI mets away into the light ofhcaven."
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