The Emporia news. [volume] (Emporia, Kan.) 1859-1881, 1871-08-04
n UMBER 81
THE GRASDMoTHER .

From the Danish of Hans Christian Anderson.
Grandmother is so old, she has SC
MANY wrinkles and her hair is quite
white; but her eyes shine like two
stars. Yea, they are much more beau
tifnl; they are so mild, So blessed to
look into. And she can tell the most
delightful stories, and she has a dress OF
thick silk that rustles; il is covered
with large flowers
Grandmamma knows so much, fol
she lived long before papa and mamma
that is certain. Grandmamma has 6
psalm-book, with silver clasps, and she
reads in it often in it there lies a rose
it is quite pressed and dry; it is not SC
| fine as the roses she has i'm the vase, and
| yet she always smiles most kindly at it
there even come tears into her eyes,
How can It be that Grandmamma al
ways looks so fondly upon the wretch
ed old rose in the book? Do you
know? Each time that grandmamma's
tears fall upon the flower, fits color re-
wives, 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 grandmamma-
yes, she is quite young! She Is beau
|
| ing cheeks, engaging and lovely; no
rose is more fresh; yet the eyes, the
mild blessed eyes, they are.still grand.
mamma's. by her side is seated a youth,
so Young, handsome and strong! He
offers her the rose, and she smiles-bul
not thus smiles grandma! Yes the
smile comes. He is gone; many
thoughts and many forms pass by; the
handsome youth is gone; the rose lies in
the psalm-bOok, and grandmamma-
yes, there she sits again, as au old lady,
gazing at the withercd rose that lies in
| the book. -.
Now grandmamma is dead. She sal
| in the easy chair and told a long, long
delightful story, "And now it is over,
she said, sand l am quite weary; let me
sleep little. Then she lay back, drew
a heavy sigh and slept; but it became
more and more still, and her face was
so full of peace and joy, and il was as
if the sun shone on it then they said
she was dead. .... .......'.
She was laid in black coffin, en-
shrouded in. pure white linen; she
looked so beautiful, and yet her eyes
were closed. But all the wrinkles were
gone; a sweet smile played around
her mouth; her hair was so silver
white, so honorable, no one could be
AFRAID 10 LOOK at ner; 1t was still the
same benign, kind grandmamma. And
the psalm-book was laid under her
head, as she herself had desired, and
the rose lay in the old book and so
they buried her.
On her grave, close under the church
wall, they planted rose tree, and il
stood full of blossoms; the nightingale
sang over it, and from within the church
the organ played the most beautiful
psalms in the book that lay under her
head. And the moon shone right down
upon the grave; but the dead one was
not there; every child could fearlessly
go there at night and pluck a rose, there
by the church-yard wall.
One that is dead knows more than all
we living know; the dead know the
dread we should feel at anything so
strange as that they should come to us
the dead are better than we all, and so
they do not come. There is earth over
the coffin, there is earth in it. The
psalm-book, with its leaves, is dust, the
rose with all its associations has crum.
bled into dust; but above, fresh roses
bloom-above, the nightingale sings
and the orgrn plays, one thinks of the
old grandmother, with mild eyes, ever
young. Dr..
| Eyes can never die. Ours shall one
day see her, young and beautiful as
when, for the first time, she kissed tbs
fresh red rose that lieth now dust in
| the grave. ..