The Waynesburg Republican. [volume] (Waynesburg, Pa.) 1867-18??, 1867-10-23
ROY LOST.


He had black eyes,with long lashes,
red cheeks, and hair almost black and
curly. He wore crimson plaid jack
ct, with full trowsers buttoned on; had
a habit of whistling, and liked to ask
questions; was accompanied by a small
black dog. 1t is long time now
since he disappeared. l have very
pleasant house, and much company.
My guests say, "Ah! it is pleasant to
be here. Everything has such an Or
derly, 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 tumb-
led down card-houses,of wooden sheep
and cattle ofpop-guns, bows and ar
rows; whips, tops, go-carts, blocks,
and trumpery. Iwant to see crumbs
on the carpet, and paste split on the
kitchen table. l want to see the chairs
and tables turned the wrong way about
want to see candy-making and corn
popping, and to find jack-knives and
fish-hooks among my muslins. Yet
these things used to fret me once
"How quiet you are here. All one
may settle his brains and beat peace"
But my ears are aching for the pat
tering of little feet; for hearty shout
a shrill whistle, gay ira la; for the
crack of little whips; for the noise o.
drums, flies, 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 for p But l
long to be disturbed. / want to be
asked for a bit of string Or an old
newspaper; for cent to buy a slate
pencil or peanuts. l want to be coax.
ed for piece of new cloth for jibs and
mansails, and then to hem the same
l want to make little flags, and bags
to hold marbles. l want to be follow
ed by little feet all over the house
teased for a bit of dough for a little
cake, or to bake pie in a saucer. Yet,
these things used to fidget me once
They say "Ah! you are not tied al
home. How delightful to be alway:
at liberty for concerts, lectures and
parties! No confinement for you.
But | want confinement. | want to
listen to the school-bell mornings, tc
give the last hasty wash and brush
and then to watch from the window
nimble feet bounding away to school
| want frequent rents to mend, and tc
replace lost buttons. l want to obi
tcrate mud-stains, molasses stains, ant
paints ofall colors. 1 want to be sit
ting by little crib of evenings, when
weary little feet are at rest, and prat-
tllng voices are hushed, that mothers
may sing their lullabys, and tell ovel
their oft-repeated stories. They don't
know their happiness, then, these
mothers; l didn't. All these things
called confinement once.
A manly figure stands before mt
now. He is taller than /, has thick
whiskers, wears frock-coat, a bos-
omed shirt and a cravat. He has Just
come from college. He brings Latir
and Greek in his countenance, and
bu,ts of the old philosophers in the
sitting room. He calls me mother,
but l 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 or
the sail (it was the end of the piece,
and the name on the stern, Lucy
Lowe, a little girl Of our neighbor
who, because of her long curls and
pretty, round face, was the chosen
favorite OF my boy. The curls were
long since cut off, and she has grown
to a tall, handsome girl. How his
face reddens as he shows the name on
the boat? Oh! l see it all as plain
as is it were written in a book. My
little boy is lost, and my big boy will
soon be. Oh, l wish he were a little
tired boy in long night-gown, lying
in his crib, with me sitting by, hold,
ing his hand in mine, pushing the
curls lack from his forehead, watching
his eyelids droop, and listening to his
deep breathing.
If l only had my little boy again,
how patient would bel How much
l would bear. and how little / would
fret and scold! l can never have
him back again; but there are still
many mothers who have not yet lost
their little boys. 1 wonder if they
know they are living their very best
days, that now is the time to really en-
Joy their children! / think if | had
been more to my little boy, might
now be more to my grown up one.-