Fayette County herald. [volume] (Washington [Washington Court House], Fayette County, O. [Ohio]) 1860-1???, 1874-09-03
A Picture of Home.

homely, but priceless in its wealth of
associations. The waterfall sings in
my ears. as it used to through the
dreamy, mysterious nights. The rose
at the gate, the patch of tansy under
the window, the neighboring orchard,
the old elm, the grand machinery of
storms and showers, the little smithy
under the hill that famed with strange
light through the dull winter evenings,
the wood pile at the door, the ghostly
white birches of the hill, and the dim
blue haze on the retiring mountains
all these come back to me with an ap-
peal that touches my heart and mOis-
ems my eyes.
1 sit again in the doorway at sum
mer nightfall eating my bread and
milk, looking off upon the darkening
landscape, and listening to the shouts
of boys upon the hillside, calling or
driving home the reluctant herds. 1
watch again the devious ways of the
dusky night hawk along the twilight
sky, and listen to his measured note,
and breezy boom that accompanies
his head long plunge towards the
earth.
Even the old barn, crazy in every
timber and, Gaping at every joint, has
charms for me; | try again the breath
less leap from the great beams in the
hay. sit again on the threshold of
the widely opened doors-opened to
the soft south wind of spring-and
watch the cattle, whose faces half look
human TO me as they sun themselves,
and peacefully 1uminate, while drop
by drop the melting snow on the roof
drills holes through the wasting drift
beneath the caves.
The first little lambs of the season
tottle by the side of their dams, and
utter ther feeble bleatings, while the
flock nibbles at the hayrack, or a pair
of rival wethers try the strength of
their skulls in an encounter, half in
earnest and half in play. The proud
old rooster crows upon his dunghill
throne, and some delightful member
of his silly family leaves her nest, and
tells to her mates and to me that there
is another egg IN the world.
The old horse whinnies in his stall,
and calls to me for food. look up to
the roof, and think of last years swal-
lows-soOn to return again-and
catch glimpse of angular sky thro'
the diam ond shaped opening that gave
them ingress and egress. How, I
know not, and care not, hut that the
old barn is a part of myseif-it has
entered into life and given me growth
and wealth,
But / look into the house again,
4, 10 1ifo oh iola hon
propriated these things, and finds
among them its home. The hour of
evening has come, the lamps are light
ed, and good man in middle life
though very old he seems to me-
takes down the bible and reads chap
ter from its hallowed pages. A sweet
woman sits at his side with my sleepy
head upon her knees, and brothers
and sisters grouping reverentially
around me. do not understand the
words, but have been told that they
are the words of God, and believe
it. The long chapter ends, and then
we all kneel down and the good man
prays I fall asleep with my head in
| the chair, and the next morning re-
member nothing how I went to bed
After breakfast the bible is taken
down, and the good man prays again j;
and again is the worship repeated
through all the days of my golden
years. The pleasant converse of the
fireside, the simple songs of home, the
words Of encouragement as I bend
over my school tasks, the kiss as lie
down to rest, the patient bearing with
the freaks of my reckless nature, the
gentle counsels mingled with reproot
and reproval, the sympathy that meets
the pangs Of every sorrow and sweet
ems every little success; all these re
turn to '1ne amid the responsibilities
which press upon me now, and I feel
as if 1 had once lived in heaven, an6
straying, had lost my way.
Well, the good man grew old ant
weary, and fell asleep at last, will
blessings upon his lips for me. Some
Of those who call him father, lie sid,
by side in the same calm place. The
others are scattered and dwell in new
homes, and the old house and barr
and orchard have passed into th'
hands of strangers, who have learned
or are learning to look upon them as
: l do now.
Lost, ruined forever left behind
that home is mine to-day, as truly a
ever it was, for have l not brought
away with me and shown it to yon P
It was the home of my boyhood. Il
it found my first mental food, and b.
l. it my young soul fashioned. To me
through weary hours and many dan
gers and sorrows, it las been a per
ennial fountain of delight and purify
ing infuen oes, simply because it wa
my home and was and is part of ut
;, The rose at the gate blooms for m
now. The landscape appears when
- summon it, and I hear. the voices ths
call me from lips which memor
makes immortal DR.. j. q. Holland