The Rutland daily globe. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1873-1877, 1876-09-07
From the Cottage Hearth, J
OUR OLD MAT.
By Mrs. Julia c. R. Dorr.

by mrS. Julla v. II. OorT.
1t has lain there for eighteen years on
the broad marble threshold, sheltered in
part from wind and weather in snug re-
cess of it's own. That accounts for its
having lasted SO long even in these degen-
crate days, when all manner of household
utensils aud conveniences have to be re-
newed SO often. 1t is only just to gay,
however, that this individual mat was made
of good honest stuff to begin with. 1t had
fair start. 1t began the race with every
advantage, if one may 10 allowed to use
SO preposterous figure; preposterous H.
deed when we consider that it has prob
ably never moved, in all these cbangeful
wears, twenty feet from the spot where it
was laid down when ii was taken fresh
from its wrsppings, spick-and-span new
mat. 1t had good constitution, firm fibre
strongly woven, and no ingrained pains
and weaknesses to contend with, no inner
ent vices 'bred in the bone" and cropping
out in most unexpected places, such as vex
and harass poor humanity and make 1t grow
old before its time. Yes it was a good mat
to start with !; we must say that for it,
1t was never particularly beautiful. 1t
had no flush of rare color and no especial
grace of form to commend it. A plain,
oval door-mat of q yellowish brown, like
The tassels of the corn when the sun has
kissed it-that was all even in its best days,
when it was young and the house was
young, aud its master and mistress, too, for
that matter. Now it is old and weather
beaten, and l saw to-day Jagged protuber-
ance on one side, a portentous break that
forbodes unutterable things.
We shall have to have a new door-mat
before great while.
And yet. can any other mat ever be part
and parcel of the family life as this old one
has been Why, just to think of the little
feet that have gone in and out over it in all
these yearsl Dear little flying feet, that
Just touched it with the tips of their toes,
aud then went bounding away "over the
wall" to the fairy-land where there were
such uncounted treasures! There was the
long procession OF flowers, beginning with
the anemones and blue violets of the spring,
and ending with the golden-rods and pur-
pie asters of the late autumn. There were
stately brakes and delicate ferns; tangles
of wild vines starred with scarlet berries
moss covered stones and great green mounds
where, who could tell perhaps some
mighty giant lay buried. There were cool
shaded lichens and coral cupped moses
deserted bird's.nests, and all manner of
lovely creeping things; funny little tree
tOads, and many quaint chrysalis, or
empty snail-shel. There were odd resting
places in unexpected hooks, each bearing
the name of some member of the family.
There was ''mothers seat" great gray
boulder with dropping canopy of maple
boughs, and the blue sky hanging over all
and there was the Screen Rock" whose
ownership was always disputed point.
And oh the willows down by the creek,
and the hemlocks where wild-birds builded
their nests, and humming-birds flashed in
and out of the darkness like living jewels
Quicter feet went over the door-mat, too,
on their way to school or to church feet
that tingled with suppressed excitement,
but yet carried themselves with certain
air of staid dignity, as befitted the occa-
sion, when they were going down TO grand
pas to Thanksgiving; sturdy rubber boots
that were going a.fishing in mountain trout
brooks, or Awarding in Kelley's Pond in
search of the yellow-lilies; thick, warm
boots against which the skates clashed with
merry ring as they hung from the red
mittened hands of the small owners; light,
noiseless feet that crept stealthly over 1t
in the gray dawn, lest they should disturb
papa and mamma, and then sped swiftly
to the barn to fling the saddle on "Our
Fanny" and dash over the fresh country
roads for miles and miles in the cool, dewy
morning.
All no other door-mat in this house can
ever grow 80 familiar with the tread of
glancing, childish feet
Once, years ago, when the land was all
ablaze with banners, when the red, white
and blue futtered from half the housetops,
when our dear Father Abraham had made
another call for troops, and the "three hun
dred thousand more" in stern response were
making ready for the fight, when even chill
dren felt the magnetism of the hour and
were eager to do and dare,-at this time,
say, heard one day ring at the door-bell.
Peering through the balf-closed shutters,
saw little dropping figure standing on the
door-mat. 1t was very limp and disconso-
late looking, with face suspiciously grave.
queer hitch to its shoulder, one small foot
hanging helpless, and cane with curved
handle under the right arm to serve as a
crutch. Taking In the situation at glance
l opened the door.
The little figure gave the military salute
with its forefnger, and limped painfully
In.
"Walk in, walk in sir" said. "You
are soldier, perceive. What might be
your name, sirp"
81 am Major Wobinson," was the digni-
fled response. ~ am Major Wobinson,