The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1875-05-13
HOYTs & CO., Proprietors.

sit around the fire, all OF us except Jane, anu
we thought we saw her when the door was
opened for q moment by the wind, but we were
not afraid, for was it not her old smile she
wore? And how we wept over the woes OF
the ''Babes in the Wood" who laid down slde
by side in the great solemn shadows, ana nov y
glad we felt when the robin red-breasts covered
Them with leaves. and last of all, when the an
Gel took them out of night to day everlasting.
We NAV think what we will of it now, but the
song and the story heard around the kitchen
FIRE have colored the thoughts and the actions
of most of us; have given the germs OF whatev-
er poetry blesses our hearts-whatever OF mem
ory blooms in our yesterdays.
attribute whatever we may to the scnool ana II
the schoolmaster, the rays which make that ut
tie day we call life radiate from the God-swept
circle of the hearthstone. Then she sang an
old lullaby she sang to mother-her mother
sang to her. but she does not sing it through,
and falters ere it is done. She rests her head
upon her hands, and silence is in the old kltch-
en-. Something glitters down between her nm
gers and it looks like rain in the soft freight.
The old grandmother is thinking when she tlrst
heard the song, and of the voice that sang it !;
when q light-hearted girl she played around
that mothers chair, nor saw the shadows OF the
wear to come. Oh, the days that are no more
What words unsay, what deeds undo, to set
back Just this once the ancient clock OF time
So our little hands were forever clinglng to her
garments and staying her as if from dying. for
long ago she had done living tor herself, and
lived alone in US. But the old kitchen wants
presence to-day, and the rush-bottomed chair
is tenantless.
How she used to welcome US when we were
grown, and came back once more to the home
stead We thought we were men and women,
but we were children there; the old-fashloned
grandmother was blind in her eyes, but she
saw with her heart, as she always did.
As the sunlight cast our long shadows
through the open door, she felt them as they
said: edward L know, and Lucy's voice L
can hear, but whose is that other? It must be
James," for she had almost forgotten the folded
hands; ooh, no |! not James for she-let me see
she is waiting for me, isn't she?" and the old
grandmother wandered and wept. '1t is an
other daughter, grandmother, that Edward has
brought for your blessing" says some one.
"Has she blue eyes, my son9 Put her hand IN
mine, for she is my latest born, the child of my
old age Shall sing you song children u
and she is idly fumbling for toy, welcome
gift for the children that have come again.
One of us linen as we thought were) is weep
ing. She hears the half repressed sobs, and
saws, as she extends her hand: "Here, my
poor child, rest upon your grandmother's shoul-
der: she will protect you from harm. Come,
children, sit around the fire again. Shall l
sing you song or tell you story? Stir the
fire, for it is cold; the nights are growing
colder"
The clock in the corner strikes nine, the bed
time of the old days. The song Of life was In
deed sung, the story told. 1t was bed time at
last. Good night, a long good night to thee,
grandmother. She is no more, and we miss her
forever.
But we will set up tablet in cur heart, and
write on it only this: Sacred to the memory
of the Old Fashioned Grandmother. God bless
her forever"