Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1876-01-28

From the Burlington Iowa HaEkeye.
Hush
iark
List, oh liz;
1t is a time for dreams and reyerie. The
DYING year is passing away. If it had any
kind Of u hand it would take it up but nc,
itpas>es passes; slowly passes, railroad
passes minstrel passes compasses pass Us
the mustard almost any kind Of passes.
And yet, methinks, it vert not always
thus The midnight hour is sounding from
the belfry tower as in heavy tones the old
town clock tolls the knell Of the dying year.
We had to borrow a town clock from town
over in Illinois in order 10 work this stanLa
through For the Burlington town clocks
are not on the knell, very strong If
the dying year waited for our town clocks
to ring them out, the Centennial wouldn't
come around Tor a thousand years. But DO
the subject Is too painful let it pass. 1t
were better 80. Better that the unburied
thoughts that rise like restless ghosts and
haunting, hover around memoiys gate,
should told their pulseless hands on the still
drapery and sleep.
Oh the long and cruel dingbats that
futemagilder the tawdry thingumbobs of
the fapdoodles IN their ghastlv gonderness
| And where? Oh, sunbrowned s.rocco, who
ate the CASTLE soap -sh Memory, memory,
bar thy iron gate.
ST. julien mend this pensive mood
W here are the friends Of my youth? Never
| had any. Out Of the swinging portals Of
Of the past, whose feet are the restless,
moaning sea, and whose lofty head is swathed
] III. hal1 g 4-tf.snr, afnvI1 bat
| frown away the summer light, fair, sweet
figure rises, like dream of hope. Out of
the gates Of the impossible, adown those
mystic vistas whose enchanted shores and
magic isles have echoed to the siren songs
ofboyhood 5 sunny hours, their beckoning
figures rise and glide across the threshold
Of the ail-pervading present and their silur-
ian cinthes mock the encurtained future.
Break, break, break on the cold, gray rocks,
oh, man sent up for ten days and no money
TO pay your fine.
Change, change. change 1t is a world
of mutations. To-day we look out upon the
street it is crowded with loved and familiar
faces, the constant, cheerful faces of men We
owe. Tomorrow we look out, and 10, a
change. 4 COW stands in the middle OF the
street, which was NOT there before. Thus
cities grow and change comes with the
growth. Small change. Give me two tbrees
and two for an overcoat button. No a.?
Then fade every sordid JOY.
Slowly the old year moves away; slowly
but surely it moves. Wherefore Perhaps
it doesn't like be neighborhood. Maybe
somebody steals its wood. 1t goes away
from US into the irretrieyable past, the old
year, not the wood, and We know not
who has taken it, the wood, not the old year,
and we embalm it in bitter tears, the old year E,
and we lock up the next cord We get, the
wood, for the mines of uolconda cannot
count its value, whose every moment spark
les with diamonds Of hought, and golden
instants of opportunity, the old year, that
is and we load one OF two OF the hollow
sticks with dynamite, the wood that is, and
lay its precious lessons away in memory s
casket, the old year, you know, and leave
them lying carelessly around for trap, the
wood, We do that with-and hide them
deep in the utmost chambers Of the heart,
the old year we're talking about-and it
picks up stray neighbor or two, maybe, the
wood does-and it perfumes life with the
subtle essence OF half-forgotten pleasures
=
Bridget picks it up and chucks it into our
own stove the wood Away these fancies burn
into the weared brain. Lead me to Lethe' s
tabled stream where in its dark and turbid
waves the soul may hide from every carking
care and be at rest. What no without
there Wine; bring hither sparkling wine !;
with its eyes and tongue of flame. Wine,
wine the Old Crow kind.
Hush, the last stroke of the midnight
hour trembles on the starlit air. 1t is the
dawnlng of the Centennial year. This year
is hundred years long. Oh, blessed
thought, delightful vision for the man who
pays his rent by the year. Oh, lingering
horror for the man whose salary runs the
same way. Oh, rare Centennial morn. Oh,
natal birthday. Oh, longing eyes of a
yearning world. Oh, spstless record of un-
recorded time. On, several other things.
Oh, pshaw.
At recent trial in the Elko county court
our friend Bishoff, Of the Humboldt brew
cry, was called as a witness. Mr.. Bishofi
is one of the .' solid men, of Elko, where
he has been in business since the town was
started, in the winter of 1858. UIon being
sworn, Counsellor Rand. one of the attor-
neys in the case, who, by the way, is also an
old resident of Elko. said MIR. Bishoff.
where do YOU reside ?'' Where | reside ?
What for you ask me such foolish things
You drink at my place more as hundred
times" d" That has nothing to do with the
case on trial, Mr.. Bishof state to the jury
where you reside" d" De shurry de shnr-
ry! Oh, py jimmy, efery gentlemen on dis
shurry has string of marks on mine cellar
door Just like rail fence" His honor here
interceded in the counsellor's behalf, and in
a calm, digniied manner requests the wit
ness to state where he resided Z" oh, ex-
cuse me, shudge you drinks at my blsce
50 many times and pays me notings, dinks