The weekly Panola star. [volume] (Panola, Miss.) 1857-1881, 1868-12-05
sATunDAy NIGHT.
ny rRtcE roarRoY

To-day We stood IN the village
church yard by q little grave, whefe
last Saturday the sod was unbrokcn
tonight We sit BY table 70 write
thereof. II was d little grave mot
longer than this paper, but never did
vault Of bankers hold such treasures
as did and does this little antoeham.
Der closed on this side TO open on
that.
Last Saturday night the mother
who mourns, read one Of our chapters
written like this, then went to the
cradle where then slept her darling
and kissed its peachy cheek, as her
heart swclled with that love unutiera.
BILE which makes the complete volume
for Gods reading. Tonight her
heart is in mourning, for II is in
twain--half on this side tho carpet
woven by naturc--half, aye, and
more, on the other side, roaming with
the treasure lie has for her taken to
Heaven.
But week has passed, but with it
has passed young mothers joy.
One day well-another day ill-the
third day dcpartcd-thc fifth day
loving eyes Kissed the little lips so
| y \
still in death; binding tears rained
upon the cherub face.--the weeping
mother was led back from the little
coffin and out the portal; over the
field and deep into the cold earth the
lamp is laid from which the life hat
fed. 1t is the same old story ; but
its mocking newness comes to thou
sands and tens Of thousands Of stricken
hearts with the same relentless poign
ancy and the same shocking sorrow
One little week, and from earth Il
heaven has gone the loved one. A
history in an hour. All our year
would not make second as ii,
strings them on the thread Of eterni
ty. But it is not Of this we write bu
Of the mourner who has lost her treas
ure.
Here is little house, q common
home. Her husband is not rich-h'
is a laboring man, as laws now run
more to enrich others than himself
We knew that mother q few year.
since-an heiress she was then. She
loved a young man who had great ex
pectations. lie relied on others mor'
than himself-he leaned upon thu
promises Of rich relations-he mar
ried for beauty and position. Thil
chapter is personal--it is true--it il
the history of one, mayhaps of 9th
ers.
The years rolled down the aisle o
worn out time, or like scrolls or mum
! mics in cloths we're by the Grea
Hand laid away on the shelves Of thu
past, never to be unwound or opened
until lie is ready to count out credl
marks, If such We have.
The wife, who is now q childles'
mourner was good, pure and loyinl
! woman. She worshipped the father
adored the child. The tide Of lucl
and speculation was against the hus
, band-he lost--he became poor--h'
: was forced to labor-"Twas honest Ia
Dor, but it had no charms for him.
When night came he needed rest
f He sought Il elsewhere than by hi
0 fire.side. Ills hours we're spent witt
/, his feet under drinking-tables, and hi
. earnings we're poured into glasses
r His home was cherries. His wife wa
{ of in tears, for in hours were thos
Of doubt and waiting-her walls wer
: bare-her floors were uncarpete'
: save in one room.
Her husband earned but he sduan
dered. The money he might hay
used to beautify bis home went I
! beautify other places. He said take
we're too high, and he needed fur
= = He is a good fellow--he Is a goot
hearted man, but he forgets yer
! easily
> He forgets that his cheerloss HON
could be made cosy and home-like,
4 he would take there the money B
" squandered for nothing, or worse
lie forgets how little is wanted
n make his home attractive. He 70
l. gets the waiting heart at homc-tt
heart that he loves lie forgcts Chi