Centre Democrat. [volume] (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, 1882-09-28
The PostIllIon OF Narold.

The POstillion of Nagold.
A stranger came 70 NAgold town
One stormy winters day,
queer old man with visage brown
And hair all streaked with gray
man of most forbidding ways;
His glance was shreSd and cold.
And all his looks and actions days
OF hard denial told.
lie came at noon--tho worthy dam0
Who kept the inn-"The Bear
All vatnly wondered whence he came,
Or what had brought him there.
He set apart aud ate his bread
And drank his pint of wine.
II want coach, at length no said,
"As three, for Adlerstein."
'For Adlerstein ?" the dame replied.
"'I1s three good hours away;
The mountain streams are deep and wide,
And waning is the day:
BY daylight there is nAught to fear.
Our hearth is warm and bright;
You'll find good cheer and comfort horo;
Stay then and rest tonight"
"HaI What care for rain aud sleet
And perils you forbode,
With driver sure and horses fleet
do not fear the road"
The worthy hostess sighed "Ah, mo;
I'll not entreAt him more"
And, as the village clock struck three,
The coach was at the door.
The driver was Postillion Dorm.
lusty youth and true,
Whose notes upon the bugle-horn
Were known the schwarzwald through;
And village mAidens used to cast
Admiring glanoes down
Whenever he, with CHEEKY blast,
Came dAshing into town.
Full half an hour through mud and rain
The team had dashed along.
And Dorm had tried and tried again,
By merry jest and song,
And frequent word of cheer, to break
The silence so forlorn-
The echoes with the horn"
Then first martial air he played
An air that he had learned
In days when armies stood arrayed
And blazing camp-hres burn d
An air that told Of battles call,
Of carnage fierce and hot.
The stranger sat unmoved through all,
And seemed TO hear 1t not;
"Aha p quoih Dorm, 'rn try again."
Then, midst tho rain aud sleet,
Hs warbled forth tender strain,
A love-song soft and sweet
Through wind-tossed pines the plaintiye lay
tis murmuring echoes woke;
Yet, when its music died away,
No word the stranger spoke.
Another hour in silence passed.
Each spectral bush and tree
Seemed mocking Don's despair. At lsIt
AIll try once more" said he
Then, mid the blus,'ring wintry gale,
In chorals grand and clear,
The Lobe den Herrn meine seele"
Broke on the strangers ear.
tts solemn notes tho echoes woke
Through dim-lit forest aisles
In sweet and pleading tones that spoke
Of Heaven and angels smiles
Der every lonely mountain track
Iis softened cadence stole,
And distant hillsdes murmured back
''Oh love the Lord, my soul"
Then TO the strangers rAptured gaze
At that sweet hymns command
Game back the scenes Of boyhoOd's days
Passed in that Suabian land
His mothers love, his fa'her's care;
And all the peace benign
That lowered round the hearthstono there
Long since at Adlers,ein.
He saw the tree beneath whoso shade
lie used 10 sit and sing
And whore bed plucked in sunny glade
Fresh violess in spring
Tho cross-tipped spire and, standing near
The churchyArd on the knoll,
And ever sounding in his ear,
'oh love the Lord, my soul"
The tears burst forth-hs meekly bowed
His head upon his hand.
God bless you now" no sobbed aloud,
''This Is my native land.
I've wandered from It far abroad
Der mountain, seas and plain,
Ny soul, indeed, doth love the Lord
Who brings me home again"
Postilion Dorm has now grown old.
Grandchildren round him play,
And he full on, wot, has told
How well he played that day.
Let's hope, in age, for memory's sake
Some brave Postillion Dorm
For rs, in turn, such notes may wake
Upon his bugle horn.
GEoRoE l. CATLx.
United States Consulate, Stuttgart.
IN BLACKBERRY TIME.