The Ouachita telegraph. [volume] (Monroe, La.) 1865-1889, 1871-07-29
Boy Lost.

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Boy Lost.
He had black eyes with long lashes,
red cheeks, and hair almost black and
almost curly. He wore a crimson
plaid Jacket, with full trowsers, but
toned on; had II habit of whistling and
liked to ask questions; was accomPa-
MED by n small black dog. 1t is a long
while now since he Disappeared.
have n very pleasant house and much
company. My guests say, "Ah, 1T is
pleasant here! Everything has such
an orderly, put-away look-nothlng
about under foot, no dirt!'
But my eyes are aching for the sight
of WRITINGS and cut paper on the
floor, of tumble-down card houses, OF
wooden sheep and cattle, of popguns,
bows and arrows, whips, tops, go-carts,
blocks and trumpery. l want TO see
boats a-rigging and kites a-making,
crumbs on the carpet and paste split
on the kitchen table. L want to see
the chairs and tables turned the wrong
way about. L want to see candy-mak-
ing and corn-popping, and to find jack
knives and tish-hooks among my mus
Inns. Yet these things used to fret me
once.
| They say, elbow quiet you are here!
| All! one here may settle his brains and
be at peace" But my ears are aching
for the pattering of little feet, for
hearty shout, shrill whistle, Il gay ira
la la, for the crack of little whips, for
!: the noise OF drums, flies, and tin trum-
| pets. Yet all these things made me
nervous once.
They say, "Ah! you have leisure
+ nothing to disturb you; what heaps of
sewing you have time for" But !
long to be asked for 4 bit of string or
, an old newspaper, for Il cent to buy a
slate pencil or peanuts. i want to be
coaNcd for n piece of new Goth for Jlbs
or mainsaiIs, and then to hem the
same. I wantto make little flags, and
bags to hold marbles. j want to be
. followed by little feet all over the
!, house, teasing for II bit of dough for II
little cake, or to take u pic in a saucer.
Yet these things used to iidget me
once.
They snv, s'Ah! you are not tied at
home. Hovy-o-,..:..,,tfu to be always mt
. liberty to go to concerts, lectures and
parties! No confinement for you.'
But | want confinement. i want to
, listen for the school belI:of mornings, to
give the last hasty wash and brush and
: then to watch from the window nimble
: feet bounding to school. L want fire.
| uuent rents to mend, and to replace
{ lost buttons. | want to Obliterate mud
1 stains, fruit stains, molasses stains, and
: points of all colors. / want to be sit
I ting by IL little crib of evenings, when
4 weary feet are ut rest and prattling
l., voices are hushcd, that mothers may
t sing their lullabies and tell over the
It Oft repeated stories. They don't know
s their happiness thcn-those mothers.
e 7 didn't, All these l called confine-
&c ment once.
n A manly figure stands before me now.
He is taller than L; has thick, black
=? whiskers, and wears II frock coat, bos'
4. omcd shirt and cravet. he has Jus'
h. come from college. He brings Latin
ne and Greek in his countenance, ane
ne busts of the old philosophers for the
or sitting room. He calls me mother, but
II. I am rather unwilling to own him.
as He stoutIy declares that he is my
he bow, and says that he can prove it. HI
or brings me a small pair of trowsers
he with gay stripes at the sides, ana ask
as if l didn't make them for him Whe,
nd he ioined the boys militia. He say
he is the very boy, too, that made tn
1st bonfire near the barn, SO that we cam
ys very near having a fire in earnest.
To He brings his little boat to show tn
We red stripe in the sail Git was the end {
cy the picce) and the name on the stern
he al .ucy Iowa little girl of our neigl
di- borhood, who, because of her long cur
I'D and pretty round face, was the chose
=" G,yorite of my little boy. Her cur
he were long since cut off, and she hi
ed. grown to be tall, handsome gin
i've How the red comes to his face when
nd shows me the name on the boat. Oh
Ig see it all as plain as if it We're write
car in Il book. My little boy is lost, al
hat my big boy will soon be. OH, Wi
to he We're q little tired boy in lol
ar white nightgown, lying in his cr
MS with me sitting by, holding his ha
her in mine, pushing the curls back fre
his his forehead, watching his eyeli
nal droop, and listening to his deep brea
ing.
If L only had my little boy aga
all how patient would l be! How mt
out would 1 bear, and how little wo
lich fret and Scold. l can never nave L
the back again; but there are still m;
ac- mothers who haven't yet lost their
rail- tie boys. / wonder if they know t
lac are living their best days; that ]
In of is the time to really enjoy their
L, it dren. / think if L had been NOR
not my little boy might now be mo
ONO NV GROWN I'm one