Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1871-08-08
Saturday Night. f"

0dtuiU@J GsiS1t'
"'Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's cheerful
bark
Bay deep -mouthed welcome as we draw near
home
'Tis sweet to know there is an eye viii mark
our coming,
And grow brighter when we come"
The lights glimmer in the distance, only be
yond the strip of wood, and the long weary
road is over. The old gate that swings with
creak In Its wooden hinges rouses the faithful
dog, and his rapid roll of alarm fills window
and door with eager faces, peering from the
light out into the dark. They are waiting and
watching for that dusty, travel-souled figure
that rides on silently, underlined and unknown
to these waiting watchers; but they--can he
not see them Does not the broad light define
them There they all are, thank God. He is
at home again. There is an eye to mark his
coming, filed with the gentle joy that touches
with holier colors matronly beauty; there are
little arms to tWine about his neck; there are
marvellous stories to tell, little eager, upturned
faces, all aglow with happiness and prattling of
adventure, joyous little hearts pouring the sweet
treasures OF their pure minds into the willing
ear OF him whose weary road Is over, and whose
home welcomes him with its most cheerful
face BY the Wayslde, over the rough road and
rugged hill, In the sultry sun he has tolled on,
strengthened and encouraged by the home that
awaits him.
Life has a rougher road, more rugged hills,
and fercer, more scorchlng sunlight than this.
Its weary pilgrims at every step strike its jag
ged, finty rocks with unshod feet, and It's way
is stained with blood and tears, along it are
jarring vlcissitudes, crushing dlsappolntments
and contention meeting, thwartlng the sternest
material and the most resolute will; but this
home with the consultations of It's affection,
with the encouragement OF its dependence,
nerves the step and fires the tagging zeal to re-
neWed effort
without our hopes, without our fears,
Without the home that plighted love endears,
Without the smile from partial beauty won,
What were man? A world without a SUM-"
Home, wife, child, whether uttered in guttu-
raj Dutch or the purest English, the sweetest
words that ever fell from mortal lips, and
wherever the traveller may be, by land or sea,
in the crowded, busy city, or in the solitude OF
the desert, the heart turns to these and Is hlled
with life s sweetest music
Mother, wife; does home of cheerfulness
await your travellers this Saturday night? Have
industrious, busy hands driven from it the ne
gect of idleness and fashioned its plain adorn-
ments 70 please the eye OF those who are COM
ing? Are there glad hearts and merry smiles
20 chase the gathering troubles OF lite from the
brow of the toll stained corners? Or does dis
order and slovenness, discomfort and murmur-
ings await them, to thicken that cloud and
make home pandemonum of domestic
hells?' Remember, oh woman, that this is
your responsibility, this is your sphere, in
which your highest duties are to be performed,
| and, If you are not true to those duties 10 the
variety of detail to which you know SO well
how to adapt yourself, you drive from that
| home to haunts or temptation and vice, those
who are dependent upon you for happiness
You are dependent upon man for support ane