Middletown transcript., 1868-07-18

And echo answers wheref
The boys played with years ago,
And all the girls so fair?
Some have died the christians death,
And some have crossed the sea;
There are some left, but they are few,
Who used to play with me.
Not long ago ] visited the scenes of my
childhood, and among the rest the old
brick school house in which l made my
first attempt to climb the ladder of learn
ing, and to which, on many sunny morn
ings in the long ago, [ bent my willing
footsteps. AS | stood in the silent shade
of the venerable oak trees that surrounded
the school house, this line:
| ooh where are all my school mates nowr
Came to my mind, and my lips repeated it
while my heart re-echoed the inquiry, Oh!
where are they now ? of all that | knew
and loved in those happy days of yore,
how many remained to greet me, and the
reply ''none," seemed to be whispered to
me as the wind sighed among the oak
leaves over my head. Of all the merry
boys and girls who used to play with me
in the cool shade of those old trees at
noon-time, none were the same. The
hand of old father Time, in passing, has
traced burrows of care on the smooth white
brows, and changed the clear ringing vol
ces to the troubled tones of care and sor-
row. As / thought of them all, sighed
for my childhood's friends, that are now
vanished from me forever.
AS I walked once more in the we'll
known paths that my childish feet had so
often trod in days gone by, and that were
then worn so bare by the many little feet
that pressed them, but which were now so
grass-grown that I could scarcely trace
them. noted the changes that had ta-
ken place on the old play ground and even
in the school house itself. The path that
I was following led me down to the spring
that used to bubble so merrily over the
pebbles and flow away through the mead
ow. But the weeds had grown up thick
and rank around it, and choked the little
brooks merry play, until it had grown
my face was mirrored on its still surface,
| started to see how different the stern,
grave face that met my gaze now, was,
from the fair childish one that | used to
see. 1 looked around the play ground
for the spot where I used to make my play
houses, and | found that the noble oak
that had sheltered me once in my merry
play, had been cut down, and nothing re-
mained of it but decaycd stump; with a
half sigh | turned from it to the school
bouse itself, and found even there that
change had come. The bricks green and
mossy were falling from the walls, pushed
down by the rude weight of years, and
the windows that were not broken, were
dim and stained with the dust of years. l
went and peeped in through broken
pane at the old desk where | used to con
my lessons in the days that were past.
How often have | sat in that old seat with
my books that should have been studying,
lying idle in my lap, my hands claspcd over
! it, and my eyes fixed on a far-away bit of
blue sky that cleaned through an opening
, in the trees, building splendid castles i'll
, the air, and roveling in day-drcams, in
, which 1 saw myself loved and honored,
and surrounded by friends who gloried in
my greatness. What glorious, beautiful
pictures would float through my brain,
and how quickly they would vanish, when
our teacher would tap on his desk to call
g us up to recite All, me my splendid
visions would vanish quickly, and | would
find [ was merely puzzled schoolgirl with
an unlearned lesson, instead of famed
', authoress!
e l sigh as I recall the past, and gaze at
: the now vacant seats that my imagination
d. filled with once loved companions, but who
= arc now strangers; those who still live arc
/ changed from merry girls and boys, tc
! grave, serious men and women, ana some
6 have done with the turmoils and trials ot
: this world and long ago fell asleep in theil
childish innocence and purity.
Z 1 saw, rudely cut by my childish fin
, gers, in my old desk, my name and as
= the rough letters met my eyes, they filled
with tears, and my memory took me back
! through the long years that have passed
: since then, and there comes wild longing
J and vain wish to be child again, and
! ! as [ look around the deserted school-room
! grieve,
G = "For the touch of vanished hands,
D. And the sound of voices that are STILL"
: My memory fingers on the girls anC
G boys who stood side by side in our class
9 and who were then firm friends, but who
{ are now scattered so far and wide over this
r busy world. Perhaps most of them have
forgotten each other, but have not for.
q gotten one, and / will try and trace out
t here, what some of their different fates
s were.
One, the youngest and fairest of us all
] soon grew weary by the way, and for ma
ny long year has been sleeping with the
sods of the valley resting on her gentle
$ bosom. Although for many long years
7 the grass has grown green upon her grave,
a memory, faithful friend, will bring hei
: magic mirror, and looking into it I see q
: vision of the fair face and the clear brown
. eyes that so early looked their last on this
t pleasant earth and though the summers