Rapides gazette. (Alexandria, La.) 1869-187?, 1872-09-14
The grandmother.
BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSON.

BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSON.
.Grandmamma is so old, she has so
many wrinkles, aud her hair is quite
white; but her eyes shine like two
stars. Yes, they are much more beau
tiful they are so mild, SO blessed TO
look into. And she can tell the most
delightful stories and she has dress
of thick silk that rustles; it iscoyered
with large flowers.
Grandmamma knows so much, for
she lived long before papa and man
ma, that is certain. Grandmamma has.
a psalm book, with thick silver clasps,
and she reads in it often; in it lies u
rose it is quite pressed and dry. 1t
is not 30 fine as the roses she has In
the vase, and yet she always smiles
most kindly at it; there even comes
tears in her eyes. How can it be that
grandmamma looks always so fondly
upon the withered rose in that old.
book ! Do you know 7 Each time
that grandmamma's tears fall upon
the flower its color revives, it fresheus
agan, and the whole room is filled with
the scent Of it; tho walls disappear as
| though they were only fog, and all
around is the green beautiful wood
with the sur shining through the
leaves, and grandmamma-yes, sheis
quite young! She is abeautiful 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 youth-so
young, handsome and strongI He Of
ters 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 handsome youth is gone, the rose
! lies in the psalm book, and grand
mamma-yes, there she sits again as
ALI old lady, gazing at the withereds
rose that lies in the book. ~g
4 Now Grandmamma is dead. She
set in the easy chaiI, and told o long,
long delightful story. "And now it is
over she said, ssand 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 it was as if the sun shined upon
it; then they said she was dead.
She was laid in the 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 on her
mouth her hair was so silver white,
80 honorable, no one could be afraid to
look at her; it was still the same be-
nigh kind grandmamma. And the
psalm book was laid under her head
as she herself desired, and the aose lay
IN the old book; and SO tho buried
her.
On the grave, close under the church
wall, they planted rose tree, and it
, 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. Aud the moon shone
r right down upon the graue; but the
, dead one was not there; every child
corld fearlessly go there at night and
-1pluck rose, there by the church yard
b wall. 'h
4 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
8 to us; the dead are better than We all
and so they do not come. There IL
earth over the coffin, there is earth IN
!, it. The psalm book with its leaves is
: dust, the rose with all its associations
y has crumblpd into dust but above
fresh roses bloom--aboye the nightin
= gale sings, and the organ plays ont
: thinks OF the old grandmother, will
:, the mild biue eyes ever yound.
Eyes can never diet Our shall cn'
!. day see her, young and beautiful al
= when for the hrst time she kissed fresi
red rose that lieth now dust in th'
: grave.
L