The Morristown gazette. [volume] (Morristown, Tenn.) 1867-1920, 1877-12-12

Leaves of Gold.


lent that the footballs of the guardian
angels who passed to and fro could
almost be heard, and when the
grand canopy of Heaven blazed with
bright stars, an old man who had
his bed on the grass under a lone
tree on the commons awoke with
shiver. The chill night air had
crept through his faded and worn
garments, and pinched his flesh.
He sat up and looked about him
with that longing expression in his
eyes which comes only when men
feel that the earth is fast passing
away from them forever. He had
no friends. Even the wandering dog
which passed near him growled an
grily az it caught the futter Of the
old mans rags in the gentle breeze,
When a tree becomes old and
withered and ready to die men des-
pise it. They forget the beauty it
held for years, and they give it no
praise for the grateful shale it offer;
ed to thousands. They would have
it's shade and strength and beauty
endure forever. forgetting that ever
living thing must grow older day by
day and at last die.
Men had forgotten all the good
words ever spoken by this old man.
If he had smoothed the rough paths
of the poor-if he had turned the
wicked into better paths-if his
kind words had filed despairing
hearts with new hopes he had no
credit for it-in the heart of men.
They had sneered and scoffed at his
slow step and his many tatters, and
they had laughed in derision as he
fell upon the hard earth. No sailor,
cast upon q lone isle in the great
ocean, seeing ships sailing to AID
fro, but none ever turning toward
him, could have felt such isolation
as this old man felt. With his long
gray locks-with his rags and tat
ters-with his wounded and aching
heart-with his knowledge that his
hours were numbered-he turned
his pale face to the bright stars and
mused:
when the leaves fiutter down
shall die, and like them 1 shall be
forgotten by all men. They will
bury me, but they will not mark my
grave. They may write my name
in a book out no one will ever turn
to it. Let me die tonight; let me
be no more when The golden leaves
flutter down to the chilly earth I''
Shivering in the keen air Of the
midnight he held his face in his
hands and poudered aud prayed,
Few hearts had sinned less, even
when smarting under the sense OF
the worlds ridicule and neglect
few hearts had deeper longing for
the blessed rest of heaven. By and
By the air no longer chilled him.
He grew warmer and his old heart
grew larger, and as sleep came
back to his Gyelids be whispered:
''If | ever wronged one human
being ia Gods great world may
the angels forgive me T.
The frost was creeping onward
from the north-creepiDg over hill
tops and orchards and meadows so
softly that the blades of grass hard
ly quivered. It crept to the tree
and fingered for moment in its
branches. The green leaves shiver-
ed, then the green faded away, little
by little, aud 10 ! each leaf WAS rob-
ed in gold! They quivered in their
joy and glandness as the breeze whis-
pered:
The old man below you is dead
He was waiting for these golden
robes to come to you. / will watt
you down. and you shall cover his
grey head with such crown as no
king ever wore"
And while the leaves were float
ing down to glorify what men had
despised, an angel in Heaven turn
ed the golden pages of = book and
wrote Earth has sent another
soul TO dwell with as and find eter-
nal JOY and peace =