The Cecil Whig., 1871-04-22

For my darling comes again.
Comes embodied Spring!
For The Cecil whig.
ETCHINGS.
To one used to the humdrum monotony
Monumental City is full of interest and
variety, especially when it so happens that
our cousins German are celebrating the
return of Peace in Fatherland, by grand
procession and illumination.
The work Of decorating began on Satur-
day afternoon, and on Monday morning
the city presented gala-day appearance ::
all the public buildings and great many
pirate dwellings were handsomely trimmed
with German and American flags, ever
greens, wreathes, Inscriptions, and SO forth.
At the first sound of martial music dis
coursed by the Fort McHenry Band, the
citizens began to pour forth en- masse,
thronging the streets and occupying every
available window.
What Haunting of gay attire what ;ab-
bering of broken English from rosy checked
German girls and fat German mothers,
with fat babies in their arms, and fat chill
dren clinging to them, looking with won
dering eyes upon the pageant. What smil-
ing and waving Of handkerchiefs, as father,
brother, friend, or lover is recognized, as
he marches proudly by, or careers past
upon gaily prancing steed? To the
thoughtful observer, the scene is sadly
marred by the long line of wagons, from
the different breweries, with which the city
abounds. But your German, without his
lager, were an anomaly. So, bowed to his
idol, let him alone, while the wreathed
wagons go by, fat Dutchman in the CEN
tire of each, quaffing lager from a huge
mug, and the crowd laugh and shout and
cheer, and seem to enjoy it More intensely
more pleasing sight follows: wagon,
wherein swarthy smith, who might have
been the original of Longfellow's, stands,
making music with his hammer, upon a
huge anvil, while above him swings, in
letters of living green, the deathless senti-
ment-'' Labor is honorable After this
come the butchers-surely the finest-look-
ing body Of men on parade not repre-
senting very poetic occupation, to be
sure; but then Zone must eat, even in
matrimony, and love is neither bread nor
honey > and l appeal to the world at
large, in support of the theory, that good
steak is more acceptable to hungry NOR
tai, than the greatest epic that ever origi-
mated from the human brain. So they file
past until the eye and brain are weary, and
we hear sigh of relief as the last banner
1utters out of sight, and the last strain of
music dies upon the soft April air And
now, upon reference to our watch, we find
the time has come for us to bid adieu to
kind friends, whose courteous kindness has
made our visit SO pleasant, and to go away
from the old house, endeared to us by pleas
ant memories of earlier and happier years,
and wend our way to the station.
Taking the first seat which offered we
found ourself Immediately in front of
languid maiden, in pearl grey satin, and
spruce-looking youth, in immaculate linen
and irreproachable broadcloth, of the latest
style. Somehow, at first-sight, they struck
us as having an unmistakabley newly mar
ried air about them. The lady soon COZ
firmed this suspicion into certainty. "Tom,
where's your kids?'' "Tom, do raise that
window for that lady % Yes, Tom was
newly acquired treasure, and Size was as
proud of her possession as if he had been
a new dress. "Tom, you know Selma ?"
Yes, Tom knew Selma. &C Well, Tom, it
really is the saddest thing about her and
Sam. I'll read you, though, what she
says in her last letter shan't /, Tom %
Tom looks slightly bored, but assents.-
IReads.) "Sam has broken my heart p
Would to God had never met him .'-
Here the little lady's voice sank into a
pathetic whisper, or murmur, and we could
not catch the rest, but we presume Tom
did, for he muttered, "Bosh - "Now,
Tom, you see, she is not the only one with
whose affections Sam has trihed." Who
and where is this terrible Sam? we are
tempted to ask her, that we may beware
of him he should surely be ferreted out
and brought to justice. Sam is forgotten,
however, the next moment, as the cry of
fire is heard above the clatter of the train,
and its red glare pales for moment the
afternoon sunlight, as looking out, we see
the extensive canton iron mills wrapped in
flames. In spite of all previous warnings,
passengers rush to the windows and doors
to watch the, thrilling sight but on and
Oh thunders the iron horse, and soon the
tall chimneys of the city shut it out from
view. Then travellers resume their seats
and settle to their broken maps. or take
up their papers again, and "Tom" " is
asked over and over again, in weak and
sentimental little voice, if it cain awful, -
and if he thinks "any one will be burned %
| Then Tom was informed of the name of
every station, and its exact distance from
the city, as though there was no possibility
of his knowing it himself; while we Won
der if it will ever be thus through the jour
ney of life, or at some not very distant
day, will the soul of Tom awaken, and will
| he assume the guiding reins, as becomes
| him to do; if SO, we amuse ourself with
! imagining some of the scenes which must
written in the sharp grey eye of the little