Smyrna times., 1876-11-01

uncertain memory
THE KEEPER OF THE KEYS
But the economy of this institution the
saving OF fret and worry which it effected
must De sadly appreciated by all, now that
l. Is no more. In its time if one had occa.
sion to use the key to the wine cellar or
the Key to the store-room she was NOT
instantly seized with the dreadful nra.
sentiment that the article in question was
forever lost to her longing eyes, but sought
that generous pocket with Joyous conf.
oence, and never in vain. Now all sorts of
emergencies take place, and no KEYS are
to be found. Sometimes thew seen, ~
nave locked themselves away into some
place unknown, and sometimes-not less
Wondertul-are declared to be nowhere
Aney are here one minute, but who can tell
"nere they will be the next ? Sometimes
they are slyly tucked into the corner of n
parlor sofa-sometimes they quietly repose
oehihd the bureau up stairs-sometimes
'ney are tossed on to the dinning-room
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS., so near and vet
SO Tar, they lie directly under your chair
on the carpet, while you are deep in agoni
zed medltations as to where they have
flown.
Paterfamilias, whose usually prudent
nina has become somewhat dazzled and
blinded owing to the brilliancy of demo.
cratic prospects in these stirring times,
brings strange gentlemen home to dinner
without hint of warning to the dismayed
household. Instantly all are on their feet
and flying about like whirlwind. Each
oreathlessly questions each as to her des.
tlnation Where-where are you going
What under the sun are you after?n and
each repeats in the widest accents: "The
keysl the keysI'' But political gentlemen
cannot wait, and in spite of all your frantic
efforts they are in the sad condition of
Mother Hubbard's dog as far as wine is
concerned, and poor paterfamilas, ready
to tear his hair with chagrin, is set down
as a very shabby entertainer. Nearly every
day some such mysterious and melancholy
dispensation of Providence as this occurs.
and those keys are sought after with all
the energy of despair. But one might as
well try to summon spirits from " "the yasty
deep" as call back the days that are no
more. The pretty, paltry outside pock ct
will not hold them, and they have no
abiding place.
THE MOTHERS POCKET.
But after all the juvenile portion of the
community are the most deprived and
afflicted by this loss, imagine. What
would your childhood have been without
pockets? What dreary wilderness the
world would have seemed How meaning.
less and empty all intercourse with your
atfectionate elders What want of stinnu.
lus to good deeds you would have felt
What lack of interest in all worthy yisi-
tors who frequented the paternal mansion
And, let me inquire, what, o what is
mother without a pocket2 A mothers
pocket contained balm for every wound.
1t was almost worth the while to meet with
some dreadful misfortune, to experience
some dire accident, in order to receive the
solace which was always ready to appear
from its generous stores. There was no |
grief which it could not heal. Like the |
magic purse in the old fairy story, the more |
il spent the fuller it seemed to grow. II |
was a wonderland more rich in delightful |
nysterie than any palace in the Arabian
Nights. 1t was there that you looked for |
reward when your deeds were unusually |
brilliant with benevolence and virtue, and |
when you had suffered your angry passions
to rise, or had been beguiled into mud |
puddle with your best silk dress on, by |
wicked companions, (of course you never
did it of your own account y there could be
no punishment keener, none harder to |
boar, than the banishment from this mys.
terious way of Paradise. 1t was there that
broken toys were in some way made as
good as new, and long-lost balls and tops
arose from the depths as startlingly as the
giants head from the empty cauldron, and
where else could you fee for consolation
under the sharp anguish of possessing a
doll with broken head?
POCKETS OF VISITORS AND MEN.
Whenever any aunts or cousins or grand
mothers made their appearance under the
home roof, the first question which arose in
your mind after the cordial kiss of greet
ing, was, what have they got in their
pockets? and the characters of all lady
visitors were weighed by the quantity and
quality of the store they produced from
this same hidden source. The blissful
challenge. You can't guess what have
in my pocket? awoke visions of delight
which your later years never knew, and
was very frequently made by some plea
sant-faced relative who appreciated the
delectable taste of cocoanut candy, after a
fashion which told that her heart was in
the right place. If your hitherto not
totally depraved aunt seemed likely to be
forgetful and ignor her pocket, remember.
ing, or rather feeling, that patience is
pale cold cowardice in noble breasts" you
gently reminded her of her duty. Gentle
men are mot deprived of pockets even now.
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