The National tribune., 1881-08-27
For THE NATIONAL TRIBUNE.
For SALE,

1t was only a baby carriage, but yet stopped
TO look at it not that had any intention OF pur-
chasing-(my babies have long since out-Srown
the use of such conveyance but because of the
associations which were, or as | thought might
he, connected with it.
1t stood upon the little grass-plOt in front of
the house. close by the fence; and as | gazed at
it through the paings fancy busy drawing
sweet. tender pictures upon the tablet of my
heart.
1t was one of those old-flshioned four wheeled
carriages, the tops of which made to be raised
OF lowered at will, and its rusty paint, and the
cracks in the enameled surface of its covering
mutely told the story of its frequent use in days
gone by.
The foOt-rug was faded, and, III places, worn
thread-bare by the restless baby feet which had
once there found support; the soft cushioned seat
vet bore the impress of a childish form; and the
bows sustaining the top revealed the marks of
childish hands which had often found them
ready stay in time of need.
Looking vet more closely | perceived tied TO
the iron-wOrk on the farther side of the seat by
fragment of ribbon, a broken toy-part of "a child'S
rattle-and rubber ring.
At sight of these mementOes left behind by the
youthful proprietor of this once royal coach
there rose up before me a vision of bright, viii
some baby face, and a little form decked out in
all the finery lavished upon the Pet of House
hold: of a fond mother bending over the little
one, and proud father looking on admiringly.
What has become of baby now? | wondered.
Did the sweet bud perish before it had fully
opened in the light of home, or has ii grown and
fiourished until its gathered strength and time
have transplanted it TO bloom amid other scenes
in the worlds great garden?
Charlie or Winnie, for aught | knew, might be
even then quietly sleeping beneath the dew and
the daises: OF, full of the roliclng spirit of boy
hood or of the enchanting shyness Of girlhoOd
climbing the howery path of youth to lifes high
summit
For aught I knew he or she who had once
filled that dainty seat might, even while gazed,
be fulfilling the stern requirements of a true
manhood, or learning those holy lessons and
tender womanly ways, which are the crowning
JOYS and perfected work of motherhood For
aught | knew it might be so: and as ! love best
the bright and sunny pictures built my airy
castle and hung its walls with such as pleased
me most.
Nv work was almost dOne:-the masterpiece.
portraying upon its broad canvas the glorious
landscape Of noble life-was ready to be put in
place, when dark cloud obscured the sun and
gloomy shadow was cast athwart the foreground
of my fancy.
That little One-what if it had grown and
flOurished like some ugly thing, to be source of
yexation and sorrow to the loving hearts that
cared for it so well and tenderly when it was
yOungl What if-but, no! / can imagine moth
ing that is not good and pure and beautiful of
childhood. ! cannot, l will not think that the
sweet home violet OF bright eyed daisy, or pansy,
OF even the ragged Robin of the family can ever
become other than it is when first opening to the
light-a thing of beauty and JOY forever
Once more the sun shines down upon the scene,
touching up with golden light the central figure
of my reverie. Once more the cOlOrs / have put
on fancy's canvas glow beneath the splendOr of
the day gods beams-Once more a vision rises up
to view-and such vision! Oh how wOndrOus
fair Mothers may picture it for themselves when
they think of their first baby. Fathers may,
perhaps catch distant CLEANS Of it as the travel
Ter catches CLEANS of pleasant fields and smiling
valleys through the emerald foliage of an inter
vening wood; but of all the Others none NAV see
it as beheld it, nor could they realize its beauty
even if it were vOuchsafed them to see it grow
into being before their eyes. They could not
understand it nor read the poetry of its meaning.
So pass on, as | did then leaving the baby car
riage with its placard of For Sale" attached. to
tell it's story to other hearts as it was rehearsed
to mine.
So pass on, but carry with me as | go the fan
ciful etchings craven upon my heart while stood
looking at it and wondering what might have
been its past. "GRIF."