The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1877-06-28

An equal mercy for His child.
| -tHarper's Magazine.
The Old-Eashioned
Grandmother.
There is an old kitchen somewh here
in the past, and an old-fachioned fire.
place therein, with its smooth old
jambs of stone; smooth with many
knives that have been sharpened there
smooth with many little fingers that
have clung there. There are andirons
with rings in the top, where many
temples of flame have been builded
with spires and currents of crimson.
There is broad, warm hearth broad
enough for three generations to clus.
ter on worn by feet that have been
torn AID bleeding By the way, or been
made beautiful and walked upon
floors of tessellated gold. There are
tongs in the corner, wherewith we
grasped coal. and blowing out a lit
tie li:e,' lighted our first candle; there
is a shovel wherewiih were drawn
forth the glowing embers, in which
we saw our first fancies and dreamed
our first dreams; the shovel with
which we stirred the logs until the
sparks rushed up the chimney as if a
forge were IN blast below, and wished
we had SO many lambs, or SO many
marbles, or so many something's that
we coveted ; and so it was that we
wished our first wishes.
There is chair-a low, rush-bc t.
toned chair there is little wheel in
the corner, a big wheel in the garret Il
loom in the chamber. There are chest
fuls of linen and yarn, and quilts OF
rare patterns and samples in frames.
And everywhere and always the
dear old wrinkled face of her whose
firm, elastic step mocks the feeble
saunter of her chi!dren's children
the old-fashioned grandmother OF for.
~ years ago. She.the very Providence
of the old homestead she who loved
us all, and said she wished there were
more of us to love, and took all the
school in the hollow for grand-child-
rem besides. A great expansive heart
was hers, beneath the woolen gown,
or that more stately bombazine, or
that sole heirloom of silken texture.
We can see her to day, those mild,
blue eyes, with more of beauty in
them than time could touch, or death
could do no more than hide-those
eyes that held both smiles and tears
within the faintest call of every one of
US, and soft reprOof-that seemed not
passion but regret. a white tress has
escaped from beneath her snowy cap;
she heightened the tether OF vine
that was straying over a window, as
she came in, and pluckcd a four-leav-
ed cloved for Ellen. She sits down by
the little whecl-a tress is running
through her fingers from the distaf's
dishevelled head, when a small voice
cries Grandma from the old red cra-
die, and Grandma Tommy shouts
from the top OF the stairs. Gently she
lets go the thread, for her patience is
almost as beautiful as her charity, and
she touches the little red bark a mo
ment, till the young voyagcr is in a
dream again, and then directs Tom
my's unavailing attempts TO harness
the cat.
The tick of the clock runs fast and
low, and she opens the mysterious
door and proceeds to wind it up. We
are all on tip-toe, and we beg, in
breath, 10 be lifted up one by one aud
look in the hundredlh time upon the
tin cases of the weights, and the poor
lonely pendulum, which goes to and
fro by its little dim window and our
petitions arc all granted, and we are
lifted, and we all touch with the fin
ger the wonderful weights, and the
music of the wheel is resumed.
Was Mary TO be married. or Jane to
be wrapped in shroud9 So meekly
did she fold the white hands of the
one upon her still bosom, that there
seemed TO be a prayer in them there
and SO swectly did she wreaihe the
white rose in the hair of the other, that
one would not have wondered had
more roses budded for company. How
she stood between us and apprehended
harm ; how tho rudcst of us softencd
beneath the gentle pressure of her
faded and trcmulous handl From her
capacious pocket that hand was ever
Withdrawn close d, only to be opened
in our own with The nuts she had gath
cred, with the cherries she had pluck
ed, the little eggs she had found, the
turnover she had baked, the trinket
she had purchased for us as the pro-
duct of her spinning, the blessings she
had stored for us-the offspring of her
heart.
What treasures of story fell from
those Old lips ;Of good fairies and evil;
N{ tho -