Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1870-08-18
Doeirp.
From the Atlantic Monthly for August
DOROTHY I'm THE GARRET.
By T. T. TaowBRrDGE.

In the low-raftered garret, stcoping
Carefully over the creaking boards,
Old Maid Dorothy goes a-groping
Among the dusty and cobwebbed boards;
Seeking some bundle of patches, hid
Far under the caves, or bunch Of sage,
or satchel hung on its nail, amid
The heirlooms Of abygone age.
There is the ancient family chest,
There the ancestral CARDS and hatchel;
Dorothy, signing, sinks down to rest,
Forgetful of patch es, sage, and satchel,
Ghosts of faces peer from the gloom
OF the chimney, v here, with swifts and reel,
And the l0ng.disuseC, dismantled loom,
stands the old fash oned spinning-wheel-
She sees il back in the clean-swept kitchen,
part ef her girlhood's little world;
Her mother Is there by the window, stitching;
E spindle buzzes, and reel 10 whiried
Whhn,nya click; ON her little stool
She SITS. child, by the open door,
Watching and dabbling her feet in the pool
OF sunshine spilled on the glided floor.
Her sisters spinning all day long;
To her wakeRing sense, the first sweet warning
o daylight come, is the cheerful song
To the hum of the wheel in the early morning.
Benjie, the gentle, red-cheeked boy,
On his way to school. peeps in at the gate;
In neat, white pinafore, pleased and coy,
She reaches hand to her bashful mate.
And under the elms prattling pair,
Together they go, through glimmer and gloom
Il all comes back to her, dreaming there
In the iow-raftered garret-room;
The hum of the wheel, and the summer weather,
The hearts first trouble, and loves beginning.
And nowit is she hersslf that is spinning.
With the bloom of youth on cheek and lip,
Turning the spokes with the flashing pin,
Twisting the thread from the spindle-tip.
Stretching il out and winding it in,
To and fro, with a blithesome tread,
Singing she goes, and her heart is full,
And many long drawn golden thread
OF fancy Is spun with the shining wool
Her fasher sits in his favorite place,
Putting his pipe by the chimney side;
Through curling clouds his kindly face
CLOVIS upon her with love and pride.
Luled by the wheel, in the old arm chair
Her mother is musing, cat in lap,
With beautiful dropping head and hair
Whitening under her snOw-white cap.
One by one, to the grave, to the bridal,
They have followed her sisters from the door;
Now they are old, and she is their idol
1t all comes back on her heart once more,
In the autumn dusk the Learth CLEANS brightly,
The wheel is set by the shsdowy wall
A hand at the latch-'tis lifted lightly,
And in walks Benjie, manly anu tsu.
The pitcher, and brings his choicest fruit;
Benjie basks in tf.s blaze, and sips,
And els his try, and joints his iuts;
U, sweet the tunes, rhetalk. the laughter; t
they IN the hour with glowing tide;'
But swester hestill, deep mamenfs after. :
Wien she is alone by Benjie's side.
But once with angry words they part;
U, then the weary, weary daysl
Ever with restless, wretched heart
Plying herfask, she turnsto gaze
Far up the road, and early and late
She harks for a footstep at the door,
And starts at the gust that swings the gate,
And prays for Benjie who comes no more.
Her fsnlti o Beniiel and could you steel
1our thoughts toward one who loved you 80 p
soiace she seeks in the whirling wheel,
In duty and love that tighten woe;
Striving with labor, not in vain,
To drive away the duh days dreariness-
Blessing the toll that blunts the pain
Of deeper grief in the body's weariness
Proud. and petted and spoiled was sha:.
A word, and all ssr life is changedi
His wayering lov too easily
In the great. gay city grows estranged;
One year: she sits in the old church pew;
A rustic, murmur-O Dorothy hide
Your face and shut from your soul the yiewl
lis Benjie leading white-veiled br1dei
Now father and mother have long been dead,
And the b.ide sleeps under churchyard stone ,
And bent old man with grizzled head
walks up the long dim aisle alone.
Years blur TO a mist; and Dorothy
Sits doubling betwixt the ghost she seems
Ana the phantom Of youth: more real than she
Ihat meets her there in that haunt dreams.
Briehtyoung Dorothy. idolized daughter
Sought cy many youthful adorer,
Lie, like new risen dawn on the water
Shining an endless vista before heri
Old Maid Dorothy. wrinkled and gray.
GrSplng under the farm house caves
And life is a brief November day
That sets on world of withered leavesl
Yet faithfuiness in the humblest part
Is better at last than proud success
And patience and love in a chastened heart
Are pearls more precious than happiness;
And IN that morning when she shall wake
To the springtime freshness of youth again,
All trouble will seem but flying fake,
And lifelong sorrow a breath on the pane