Smyrna times., 1869-08-11
.MiSceIiUn e eOUS.
The Old Bureau Drawer.

Last Saturday night she was playing about
the house, her merry laugh and childish pratte
having more Of sunshine for those who loved
her than ever fell at once on widest forest or
prairie. We all loved her. She was winning,
and never was deafer little darling. One
night she romped too much Her nerves not
strong, like her mothers or her fathers, we're
| overwrought in play she became frettul, as we
al do, and her papa spoke harshly. Then the
tears came to her Heaven lit eyes, and she ran
to rest her tired brain in he lap of her mamma.
| We heard the cross words leaden door
seemed to close on our heart as we looked at
the innocent prattler then at the stern man,
who was kind, but who forgot that tender plants
crush easily Over the household came sh8d
Vw. The child $ voice rang out no more in
merriment-we all felt sort of sad trembly, ike
as 1t we wanted to say something, but could
not.
The next day our little friend was sick The
doctor came. She had over played, taken
cold, and suffered. The next day she grew
worse. More than one prayer went up to Him
t,Om her father but one from the mother, for
hers Was all prayer. The next day she was
worse, and the next day, resting her head on
the bosom Of her mother, she sank to sleep
the little curl before us in q little box, is all
there is left to us, in friend of the family, of
the little darling We did not know how well
we loved her till she went home to commence
another term.
This Saturday night we called in to say a
word to those who had loved and lost. The
merry augh-the childish voice-the romping
over the foor-;he climbing into our lap-the
efforts to tease, and the scamperingS here and
there were all gone. Great tears have spread
themselves over the mothers eye>-the voice
of the father was low and huShed for the dear,
est darling of all was away. God knows we
pitied them. We pittied him. tor he would
have aiven his own life to have recalled the
sharp words But she had gone home with
s them-a scar upon her heart, tender aud pain
; full.
We sat and talked, and manly or not, our
tears came with theirs, to drop into the clouC
4 of sorrow before US And while we sat will
! hands on the table, and head resting thereon
e trying to reach to her for the words he had Civ
e en-, and the life he had lost, we went with he
! into another room. She carried lamp. 1t was
2 poor mans house, and not fitted with gas ant
conveniences as are the homes of the rich
Steadily the door was opened. The two win
e dows were darkened by curtains. In corne
D y of the room stood an old bureau. She pulle,
. out drawer-next one to the top, and ther
;. were piled and packed all the little clothes O
the one we mourned.
is The little dresses we're there. The Httl
shoes and stockings were in one corner, Will
:. in another were the little toys once the deligh
J, of our little pet. There were little ribbons
such tiny little ones. And cups and saucers a
le she had played with them. But she was nc
le there. The little clothes she wore week sine
:; were all there, folded nicely, as we're the bea'
- tiful little hands we saw in the coffin folde
over her breast as if she was saying
"NOw Hay me down to Sleep" =
And che little apron she had torn by catchin
it as she ran past wood box, and for whic
OO ba xuOrdc Thio fa lax, thar
"a "a folded with the rest, just as she had worn
and torn it. In little box were one, tw
: three four little curls-golden and beautiful
and one for u.s. You who are rich do not q
ways know which are the rarest treasures. O.
LIE The tears of the mother dropped fast in
10 the second grave of our lost one-never a wol
= did either speak-her heart was, oh | SO
away. And as the drawer was closed and
ently we returned to another room with OF
!. treasure, we could not help thinking Of othe
ds who mourn for little ones-of the thousan
ng of drawers or little boxes all over the laI
~ wherein are kept most sacredly the tear W
momentoes of the loved ones who have gol
before. Dearer than life are those treasure
Here mothers can weep and pray-here Il
of heart can overflow its bitterness, and take a
'ge other look, and leap toward the beautiful futul
ana sa, where are waiting those we loved, but W
And as you would meet there the dear on
rye of the heart, speak kindly. Another Saturd
'di- night, and your tears may drop in upon the !
kes tie folded clothes and playthings. And it m,
be hard to know. that our lost ones carried wi
1Mve them hearts covered with the bruises our L
lie. or acts have made. God who is good, grant Il
none who read this may have these lasti
h graves with them now or with them when sh
MA come another Saturday night, for we wol
/, j have no heart filed with sadness. And not
:. the result OF life of toll would we have
+ little darling die-perhaps her last thought
90 Of words to her spoken which cut and wounds
90 You see we cannot call back the words
Jss' our lost ones, to ask them to forgive us.
90, All the evening we have sat and thought
w the bureau drawers which hold more than
clothes OF the little darlings who died-tl
'a e hold the heart of the living. They are rou
in the ladder which reaches way. up there
a.as yond the blue and into the golden-beyt
- the clouds into the smiles. In palaces and