Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1871-10-28
The Old House at Home.

mere are lew places 50 ucaE 10 us as
the scenes OF our childhood. Around
the associations Of our early years our
hearts best affections have twined them
selves and though we may roam over
dark sea foam. or wander in far distant
lands, yet we will often fy back on
memoryS swift piniorS 10 the golden
moments of lite's morning. aud tonily
lingcr around the sights and scenes Of
our juvenile rambles.
Emotions swell the heart and tears
FIJI the eye as we think of the old house
1t home The old house may not lave
been a palaiial structure, with lis mag
niticent dome and gorgeous surround
ings it may have been the humble cot
in which poverty had left It's otprintS,
and where grim want stared out from
wall and floor and bed and straw. No
matter how humble, still how dear 10 us
that old house at home No
" Twas not for It, spleudor tina, dwelling was
dear;
Twas not that the gay or the noble were near;
Osr the porch the Wild rose Sud the wood5ine
entSined,
And the sneet.scent.d jcssamne waved in the
wind;
But dearer TO me than proud turret or dome
Were the halls Of my flIher-Ihe old house az
home"
We love that old building, and our at
tachmcnt 10 it increases rs ycarSroll on.
We may dwell in palace Of golden
brightness, the stecple of which may
penetrate the very clouds, and nrillions
ot.cath's richest treasures may lie III
our Golfers; still our heart never changes
for the old house AT home.
Did YOU ever visit the home of your
childhood after years of absence What
a guSh of rccollcctions como thgobbinG
through the heart h, What sacred mem
ories were awakened from the sleep of
yoars Every place and almost every
object that meets our gaze has some as
sociation with our childhood days The
brook that Cows on just as IT did in tho
days of yore The very curling of tho
current seem, familiar.
"Th, brook wherein. when stripping wild,
| bllhei my burning brow,
1t rapidly run when was a child,
Aud i run, rapidly now"
Here in this brook, we had our dock.
ward, and here We sailed our mimic
fleet. There stands the old oak tfco
under which We connyd our boyi,h task.
From this point We had rolled stones
down the steep hillside and had watch
cd them disappear IN the clear waters
below on that grassy knoll We bad
stood at sunset and gazcd upon the
goldcn-tntcd clouds which 30 grace.
fully slumbcrcd on the bosom Of the
western sky.
a. The fields and lanes and trees are "a
miliar, recalling old memories and
scenes Over that heath we have wan
dcrcd forth with brothers and sisters in
merry mood to gather widwoodtlo
Under this tree have We gathered nuts;
there have we plucl>od blackborrirs from
the bramblcs through yondcr meadow
have We saunlcrcd in childish glec in
search of the trcsh-sprung mushroom.
Little then did We know of the cares
and perplcXities of life.
The Old log schoolhouse is gone-a
newsedilicc has taken It's place The
cluster of trees is still there Here is
our old play ground, upon which we
have sporcd and gamboIed in those
halcyoh days Of pld. We almost fancy
that we can hear the shril voices of our
schoolmatcs, subducd by the distance,
borne upon the breeze ; but mol Where
are our schoolfcllows ASK time and
change Ask sickness and the sword
and the boundlcss ocean Ask acci-
dent. disease and death For all these
have been at work What q dream is
the past
But what emotions rise in the heart
as We stand and gaze upon that old house
where my father dwelt and where
a child at the feet ofmy mother knclt."
Whathallowed memories cluster around
that sacred spot. What Cndeared asso.
Citations still liIgor there
1t was in that old time hon0red dwell.
ing that knelt 10y my moihcr,a and lisp
cd my evening PRAYER F.; received her af.
iectionate kiss tcit the hot tear fall on
my boyish head and heard her in broken
accents say, "God bless my child
When flr away from that dear home,
made radiant by her smiles, We feel that
h.r prayers still follow MS as We roam
her words we never can forget. Those
we've sacred seasons, How sweet their
memory, when in childbood's innocence
we communed with heaven and felt tho
angels near.
The old house stands az a monument
10 departed days There have been
changes there The footprints Of time
are seen. Tie mosS-cOycred roof the
ivy bound pillars the decayed columns,
and the crunbIing walls seem in sad
keeping with departed scenes and mem
ories, The inmates of long ago are
gone rome sleep in the grave, over
which the weeping willow droops and
the winter winds howl mourufil re-
QUEEN, the rest arc acting their part in
the great drama Of liie, far away from
that sacred old d-micile.
But there are hallowed associations
and "reminiscences which crowd and clus-
ter around that old house. There arc
long silcnccd voices which still lnger an
echo there. There are affections which
centre there which will make that place
ever dear to u. And although our
heads may grow dim, and our fancies
,o.,.r taro,tL l.. &