Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1873-02-11

Gus Ulr NHOHp loul thOuSHto, lVu """'"
have reached at last, on the side nearest
the sea, n simple brown cottage. 1t stood
far back from the road, with winding
walks aud clumps Of strawberries in front.
There was nothing in this cottage to
strike YOU on frs, sight, ii stood there in
its quiet browns. conspicuous Tor plain
ness among its more pretentious neigh
bors. A two story cottage, surmounted
by French ROOT; all around it ran cool,
deep, upper and lower vcrandas,i in whose
delicious shade one could sit all day and
hear the sounds of the sea. Indeed. the
longer you looked nj this cottage, the
more, il seems to me, you would become
penetrated with sense of its quiet home
atmosphere and comfort. That was all
Not quite all, MS you will see. There
was flag staff run up from the rooi, with
the dear old stars and stripes waving
proudly in the sea winds, and the foreign
ships, outward bound. or coming into
port, when they passed by, would salute
this cottage. firing and lowering their
flags. and all day long there would bo
eager, curious faces leaning out oil tho
elegant carriages which swept back and
forth on the gay drive, and you would
have The secret of the lowering Of flags
and the firing, and all the eager curiosity
when somebody glanced toward the plain
brown cottage with the deep verandaS'
would any simply " President Grant lives
there"
And because he is TO be this tor the
next four years; because YOU have just
declared it too. with loud heartiness OF
utterancc which has shaken the land be
cause a certain natural curiosity always
attaches itself to the family and daily liy-
inc ol the head of the nation, have con-
cuded to tell YOU about some of the
glimpses which had into the homo.liic
OF the Presidents household last summer.
This was the wny it happened. The
friend whose guest was at Long Branch
was the friend of the President, his ten
ant, also.
On the opposite side OF the avenue, and
almost facing his own, General Grant had
erected pleasant, spacious cottage. in
tenlcd sooner or later for his own occu'
paucy.
Ny friend, the kindcst and most geEer-
Gus of hosts, had taken this cottage for
the summer; so it came to pass that the
President was our landlord
There are days which lie in all our
memories as though we had heard The
horns of oli.land family blowing" through
them. Such day is that first one | pass
cd at Long Branch. 1t was just after ia
ly's fiery sword had swept over the great
city, and rcapod its terrible harvest OF
death
Guing out from days which had walled
Us up in their midsummer heats, into the
coomess and quiet and delicious sea-
breczcs OF Long branch, was like entering
another world. seem To- sec il all as
saw il from my window that first morning
the ships coming and going in the dis
tant horizon. like "sheeled phantomS,
the sunlight glimmering among the sails
the long stretch of gray, unbrokcr
beach. and. greatest Of all, tho old ocean
with the splendor OF its rising and falling
tides; the gliltering sweep and retreat o
the surf on the sands, and the shout a.
tho waves that was like the chorus OF AZ
army returning from victory.
All these things make that first day IA
Long Branch seem to me unlike most O
the other days of my life.
General Grant was 10 leave Long Branch
on the following day for tour among
the Northern Lakes; 80 it had been ar
ranged that should meet him informally
that evening, and little after dusk We
went over TO the brown cottage lhrougl
the shrubheiios and the winding walks
my friend with his pretty wife, and myself
The President and Mrs. Grant were JUS
rising from the table rs we entered. Al
ter the usual inlroduclions were Over,an
before we had fair chance to look into
each Others faces we went out on the pi
azza, and the stars were overhead, ant
the surf played among the sands below
and its voices came sonly up to US like
the hymns of worshipers.
There was no company at that time
and the Genercl took a chair at my side.
Perhaps we talked little at first, per
haps we did not. Sitting there my
thoughts went back over half dozen
years TO a scene and place very unlike
this one,
was once more in quiet village q
few miles from Boston. The tender
April sunshine shone in at the windows,
the soft south wind was whispering
among the flush of rock, naples, and the
and delicate green of the budding oaks.
Nothing broke the glad stiffness but
the soft ripple of winds, or robin song
pouring into the golden heart of that
April afternoon. Then of sudden
heard voice. 1t came up the stairs with
one throb of eestacY, like the flash of q
bugle. This was what it said "Grant il
in Richmond. The war is ended" J"
An over the land amid the thrill ol
leaves and song of birds, other voices
wero saving these words that spring af-