Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1876-01-08
OLD FRIENDSHIPS.
By ANNIE ARDEN.
ssThen came change. as all things human
change"

.sThen came o change. as all things human
change"
somehow think we scarcely realize,
fully, what a change the years bring
about, until we meet some dear old
friend around whom have centered
some of the pleasantest recollections
of our past life. Then how vividly
memory brings back the joyous scenes
Of other days We live over, if only
in imagination. the dear old times Of
long ago. We graspthe hand in friend
ly clasp, and scrutinize the dear old
face to read there if all has been we'll.
OH tell-tale book of each human
heart is that divine gift, the human
countenance. Oh how dearly have
we treasured each feature in the long
years that have INTERVIEWED and we
seek now to discern some faint sem
blance ofthat which we have treasured
up. Care and sorrow have left deep
traces there. The hair is already
streaked with silvery threads; the lips
are firmly closed with determination
of endurance and the eyes-ahl yes.
we would have at least recognized you
by them if fnothing else, for out of them
'the soul shines light from a window. /"
We feel cure now that old friendship
is not forgotten, for out of the eyes
the heart speaks. We read all the old
warmth and gentleness and kindness
that we did in the years long gone by.
Then come the questions. How has
it been with thee since last we met !?
Has life proved all that the dreams of
youthful fancy pictured? Have friends
grown cold2 Is ambition crushed !?
Does love prove all you drearssd2 ?
Now and then the old merry laugh
rings out, the laugh We so we'll remem-
Der as part of yourself; but, ere its
tones scarce reach us, the sound dies
away in sadness, as though caught at
and grasped by some unseen thing that
checked its merriment. We think we
know why it is, yet we would not pry
into the secret sadness of that gentle
heart; itshall be sacred ground to us.
Well speak gently to it. We will not
unearth the old love that brought with
it a curse, nor unveil the sleeping forms
of the dead buried loved ones there.
We tread on holy ground.
Each heart has its secret sor-
rows which the world knows not, and
oftentimes we call man cold when he
is only sad"
Oh what a blessing. o rare bless
ing, is it to feel that one has friend
ever true and constant to stand by
them in hours ofaffiiction and trouble,
when life's frail bark sails SO wearily
along DER the cold stream of time !
OH to be buoyed up bya strong hand,
and cheered by kindly word. What
a debt of gratitude we owe for the
words of cheer, the frail bark might
have gone down into the darkness of
gloom and despairl How beautifully
does Tenuyson, in his much loved poem
of Enoch Arden, express the gratitude
of Annie to Philip when her heart is
overfowing with thankfulness for his
kindness to her, and her lips said to
him
"Money can be repaid, not kindness such
as yours"
1t is not always in the act itself, nor
the gift profered, but the grand out
pouring of the soul when the heart too
full, must needs o'erfow." o kindly
human heartl methinks there is more
than evil in thee, after all. It is only
in moments of darkness and gloom
that thou revealest thine evil propen-
sites. Oh have charity, have chari-
ty for the poor, downcast, broken
hearted ones. Thou knowest not what
beauty and gentleness may lie beneath
asrough exterior. Mayhap you can
yet stir the fount of love if only the
right chord be touched.
Some have said there is no real true
earthly friendship. We are friendly
and mayhap kind toward those who
serve US, or fawn upon and fiatter us;
but friendship dies away wish a new
conner who serves purpose better
than our humble selves. Frienship is
only matter of convenience, a myth,
a delusion.-Henderson Reporter.