Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1871-07-26
Prom the Danish Of Hans Christian Andersen.
The Grandmother.

Grandmother is so old, she has so many
wrinkles, and her hair is quite white but her
eyes shine like two stars. Yea, they are
much more beautiful they are 30 mild, so
blessed to look into. And she eau tell the
most delightful stories, and she has dress Of
thick silk that rustles it is covered with
large flowers.
Graudmamma knows so much, for she lived
long before papa and mamma that is certain.
Grandmother has psalm.book with thick sill
yer clasps, and she reads in il oitcu; in it
there lies rose it is quite pressed and dry
1t Is not 80 hne as the roses she has in the
vase, and yet she always smiles most kindly
at it, there even come tears in her eyes.
How can IT be that grandmamma looks always
80 fondly upon the withered rose in the old
book Do you know2 Each time that
grandmamma's tears fall upon the flower its
color revives, it freshens again, and the whole
room is filed with the scent of it the walls
disappear as though they were only fog and
all around is the green, beautiful wood with
the sun shining through the leaves, and grand
mamma - yes, she is quite young She is
beautiful girl with golden locks and blooming
cheeks, engaging and lovely; no rose is more
fresh yet the eyes, the mild, blessed eyes,
they are still grandmamma's. by her side
is seated a youth--so young handsome and
strong lie offers her the rose, and she
smiles-but not thus smiles grandmamma
Yes the smile comes. He is gone many
thoughts and many forms pass by the hand.
some youth is gone, the rose lies in the psalm
book, and grandmamma-ye there she sits
again, as an old lady, gazing at the withercd
rose that lies in the book
Now grandmamma is dead. She sat in the
easy.chair, ard told a long long, delightful
story. " Aud now il is over, she said, aud
am quite weary let me sleep a little" "
Then she lay back, drew a heavy sigh, and
slept but it Lecame more and more still, and
her face was so full Of peace and joy, it was
as if the sun shined upon it then they said
she was dead.
She was laid 10 the black coffin, enshroud.
ed in pure white linen she looked 40 beauti
iul, and yet her eyes we're closed. But all
the wrinkles were gone sweet smile played
on her mouth her hair was so silver.white
so honorable, no one could be afraid to look
at her it was still the same benign kind
grandmamma. And the psalm-book was laiC
under her head US she herself had desired
and the rose lay in the old book, and so thcy
buried her
On her grave, close under the church.wall
they planted rose-troe, and il stood full o
blossoms the nightingales sang over it, anC
from within the church the organ played the
most beautiful psalms in the book that lay un
der her head. And the moon shone rgh
down upon the grave but the dead one wa
not there every child could fcarlessly g
there at night aud pluck a rose, there by tn
church yard wall.
/. One that is dead knows more than all W
living know the dead know the dread W
should feel at anything so strange as tina
r they should come to us the dead are bette
than We all, and so they do not come. Ther
is earth over the coffin, there is earth in il
The psalm.book with its leaves is dust, tn
rose with all its associations has crumbled int
dust but above, fresh roses bloom-above
the nightingale sings and the organ plays on
thinks of the old grandmother, with the mil,
eyes, ever young.
Eyes can never die Ours shall one da
see her, young and beautiful as when, for tn
first time, she kissed the fresh red rose tina
ieth now dust in the grave.