The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1870-08-27
What I Remember.


long, sunny, brown, curls, and lips
that would make you think of
ripe cherries, as much as those
cheeks would Of roses.
1 remember a pair of dimpled
arms and shoulders; large straw
hat wreathed with flowers; Grim
son frock trimmed with white
braid; pair of red morocco shoes
and pinafore.
I remember a little brown cot
tage among the naples, where q
laughing, babbling stream mean
dered by, and the birds sang all
day long, the steep hill at the
right the garden with it's wealth
of marrigolds, touch-me-nots, and
evening beauties, the perch fes-
TONED with morning glories; the
graveled path, bordered with
pinks, leading to the gate; the old
well, with it's iron-bound bucket,
its unwieldy sweep, and moss-lin-
ed curb; the martin box, and the
white curtains at the parlor win
dows.
| / remember the blue skies and
downy clouds Aecked with Grim
son, and starry nights when the
moon shone, and winter nights
when the snow lay on the ground,
when there was a Ginning of bells
and peals of laughter.
I remember snatches of rhyme
and the pattering of little feet,
and the noise Of playful chattering
to dolls, and the chime of broken
dishes, and certain performances
on jewsharps.
| remember a great deal more
than this. | remembera day when
toys and dolls were gathered up
and put away by careful hands;
when the little worn-red shoes,
and crimson frock and white pin
af0re were laid away, almost sa-
credly in an unused drawer up
stairs-where there was no laugh
ter, no pattering of footsteps !;
when the crib was showed back
against the wall, and the little
empty chair was put back in a
distantcorner.
| remember tears and means
and q little calm dead face in the
coffin.
Dead!did l say dead? No, no;
that cannot be; you are living in
my heart-in my memory, darling
living where DO sickness or pain
can come-no death destroy. In
heaven, thank God
/, There is little grave out under
the naples; there are many such
little groves; there are many bro
ken hearts. Well, there is one
| who can heal them. There are
many vacant cribs and empty
chairs, and desolate homes. What
should we do If He had not said,
"Suffer little children to come unto
me-"
Let me see the little crib and
chair, and crimson dress, and the
red shoes and white pinafore;
f don't hide them away. Strew the
playthings that she loyed-the
bits of broken china, the jewsharp,
the dolls and paper dresses all
around. | may shed tears over
them but they'll not be bitter
, ones. The prints of little fingers
upon the furniture, don't erase
them; the marks of little footsteps
/ here and there-don't efface them;
the hat with faded flowers twisted
around it-let it hang where hel
little hands put it; that won't
, grieve me now; don't turn up the
. dogs cared leaves of her little soil
ed primer; her fingers made them
: Put place at the table where she
Q used to sit, and a high chair at its
: place-it will seem the more as i
$ she was at play or running in the
T garden; not as if we had shut hel
Y out; not as if she were dead!
: l remember-aye, who does no
Q remember! Who is there on thu
e wide earth who has not some sd
0 cred memory hid away from tn,
7 prying eyes of the world-som,
J, recollection between which ant
t Mammon's worshippers a veil il
/ forever drawnR Who could quit,
1 forget, if he would? Aye VIII,
:, would quite forget if he could p
s E;rckGnge Paper.
|