The tri-weekly standard. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1866-1868, 1867-07-04
s. Roy LNSI,N

The following beautiful waif which we
find atioat in the newspaper sea, we publish,
being confident that it will we'll repay
perusal by all, and by our lady friends in
particular:
He has black eyes, with long lashes, red
checks, and hair almost black, and curly
He wore crimson plaid jacket, with full
trousers buttoned on; had habit of whit
ting, and liked to ask questions; was ac-
complained by small dog. 1t long time
since he disappeared. 1 have very pleas
ant house and much company. Everything
has such an orderly put-away look
nothing 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 cattle and sheep, of
popguns, bows and arrows, whips, toys, 60
carts, blocks and trumpery.
II want to see boats a-rigging, and kites
a making. 1 want to see crumbs on the
carpets, and paste spilled on the kitchen ia
bile. I want to see the chairs and tables
turned the wrong way about. I want to see
candy making and corn-popping, and to
fnl jack knives and tish-hooks among my
muslins. Yet these things use to fret me
once. They say how quiet you are here
All one may here settle his brains and be at
peace. Bnt my ears are aching for the pat
tering of little feet for hearty shout for
shrill whistle; for a ira la Ia for the
crack Of little whips; for the noise of drums
flies and tin trumpets. Yet these things
made me nervous once
"They say: All you have leisure; moth
ing disturbs you. What heaps of sewing you
have time for 2 But long to be disturbed
l want to be coaxed for piece of new cloth
for jibs or mainsail, and then to hem the
same. I want to make little flags, and bags
to hold marbles. Iwant to be followed by lit
tie Charlie all over the house teased for bit
of dough for little cake, or to bake pie in
saucer. Yet they say say, 'Ah you are
not tired at home. How delighted to be at
liberty for concerts, lectures and parties
No confinement for you. But want con-
fnement 1 want to listen for the school
bell mornings, to give the last hasty wash
and brush, and then watch from the window
nimble feet bounding away to school. I
want frequent rents to mend, and to re-
place lost buttons. 1 want to obliterate
mud stains, and paints of all colors; want
to be sitting by little crib, of evenings,
when weary little feet are at rest, and pratt
ling voices are hushed, that mother NAV sing
and tell stories They don't know their hap
piness then, these mothers didn't. All these
things called confinement once.
A manly figure stands before me now, he
is taller than;I, has thick whiskers, wears a
frock coat, and bosomed shirt and cravat.-
He has just come from college. He brings
Latin and Greek in his countenance. and
dust of the old philosophers from the SITTING
rooms He calls me Mother but am nm.
willing to own him. He AYERS that he is nv
boy, and says that he can prove it. He
brings his little boat to show the red strings
on the sail Git was the end of piece,) and
the name on the stern-Lucy Low, little
girl of our neighbours, who, because of her
long scurls and pretty round face, was the
chosen favorite of my boy.
"The curls were long since cut off, and
she had grown up tall, handsome girl
How his face reddens as he shows me the
name of the boat. Oh see it as plain as if
1t We're written in a book. My little boy is
lost and my big boy, in long, white nig ht-
gown, lying in his crib, with me sitting by,
holding his forehead, watching his eyelids
droop, and listening to his deep BREATHING.
IF I only had my little bow again how
patient would bel How much wonld
bear and how little would scoldl con
never have him back again; but there are
still many mothers who have not vet l ase
their little boy. wonder if they know thew IvSv