Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1870-08-01
Saturday Night.

/
present and future events in complex
vision before the reflective mind. As
we cast up our accounts at the close OF
the week, what train of busy, or it may
be, sad thoughts cluster around our
hearts as evening draws her shadowy
vail over the busy world, and silence
falls, like a mantle Of varied hue, over all
its busy moments. Saturday night How
many changes have marked the few brief
DAYS since last the common routine
closed it above our heads; and, alas how
many more may work the next in the
schedule of time Saturday night closes
MANY a chapter in that volume which is
marked in the Book of Life, either for or
against us.
How many bright dreams are gently
nurtured as we close the many items
that make up a page in the whole How
many perish, as blue-eyed hope folds her
silvery wings in pity or regret over some
cherished plan which made a ray of sun
shine in our lives now gone foreverl
How many a brave heart has ceased to
beat, and gone with its burden of JOY or
sorrow to that shadowy bourne, that only
this day week was full of lusty life?
How many stricken mourners weep over
the new made grave in the silent city
of the dead" or draw the mantle Of
their grief more sadly around their
bleeding hearts as the eye Of love falls
on the vacant seat, and unconsciously
awaits the sound of the oft watched foot
fall that made the light of joyous greet
| ing as the welcome of love was given
and received by those who will never
tread life's varied walks again. Calmly
the man Of life counts the chances that
| may make or mar his fortunes before
another week Sweetly the fond wife
looks forward to the close Of the day
that closes the week; for, happy thought,
it brings the sweet companionship of
one who delights in the enjoyment Of the
peaceful rest Bright eyes grow brighter
as the memory of some happy thought
comes in connection with this same
night, for It Is the harbinger Of loves
bright dream crowned by cupid's magic
wand, Saturday night the honest labo-
rer seeks bis humble home with the al
lowance that will sustain his family till
another, thankful as he stretches his limbs
on his pallet after the frugal meal for the
blessing of peace and health; as he prays
God to extend it in the future, and sinks
into the oblivion of rest, that comes of q
well-spent week, in the bosom of his con
tented family, Beautifully the young
bride looks as she waits for her anxious
lord. but sadly her heaTt-strings will be
bleeding and torn before another, for the
blush OF the bride will be changed for
the woe of the wife, and this rose Of the
bridal yield to the cypress Of. sorrow, as
the whits robe Of JOY gives place to the
weeds of the widow, AAXiously the
mother waits the return OF her offspring,
happy only when she feels they are
secure beneath the rooftree. Proudly
the young mother looks on the face Of
her 6rstborp and builds bright castles in
the future. Sadly the matFon Of many
cares bends oyer the conch of one who
will, she feels, before the rise and setting
of another sun, DO numbered with the |
blest, 10th to spare even one from the |
circle.
How many a blot is cast on the |
character Of sinful youth, as it draws |
near the bells Of earth, the gambling
table, drawn thither By the syren voice /
Of temptation, where not only the die is
cast for or against success, but eternally |
marked on the record Of doom. What a /
feeling Of utter despair marks the habi-
tation of the inebriate, ms he takes the 1
last cent from his suffering family TO /
leave 1t in the ale house little caring 1
that the result may be the alms-house. /
What scene of varied qualifications /
come under the head Of Saturday Night !
this night of release from the usual avo-
cations Of the busy week. duties filled /
and laid over TO begin new chapter
with the new link in the chain Of lifel /
obligations neglected or forgotten,
or left 20 an indefinite issue, I
thoughtlessly ignoring the final sum
ming up Of all duties, all cares,
all deeds, at the final close, that each |
week so much resembles, never pausing
TO dwell on the record that is not written |
in sand, but stands as eternal as the hills /
in that ledger whose accountant is /
Truth. If we could only realize that |
actions born of this vile indifference are
fraught with conclusions that may bring
peace 10 us forever, or shroud our fate |
in gloom. We women never forget that /
time is our balance sheet, eternity our
record, conscience our warden, whose I
borrowed truth emanates from Deity
itself WINIFRED.
The Yevay Democrat says old Jessie