The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1884-01-16
Queer Shadows.

1t was twilight. The red flashes
thrown on the window-panes by the SGT.
ting sun had slowly faded out and given
place to the first soft shadows OF night,
which bring the cricket from its hiding
place and send the bee and the butterfly
to sleep. There was feeling of rest in
the room--a feeling of quiet content
ment and perfect satisfaction. The
hum from other rooms lulled instead Of
annoyed the voices Of children on the
street seemed far away and had touch
of pathos.
The old man lay at perfect ease. His
eyes rested on the wall at the foot of
the bea--his thin, wrinkled hands were
folded one over the other-there was no
pain to deepen the lines on his kindly
iaee. He had seen the sun go down,
and hs listened for the voice of the
cricket and ilne call Of the whip-poor.
will.
What was that?
A snaao~ suddenly fitted across
the wall in foht ot his eyes. Now
another and another. Row the FIRST
shadows fit back to head a profession.
Passing from right to left the procession
moves--.a procession OF queer shadows.
ThcE tHte m 'ases % they move along,
and the old mans henrt beats faster as
each face comes before hiih. Here are
tho friends of his youth-faces which
grew Shite in death so long ago that
he had forgott6h them. This one was
child--that youth-thnt lair young
girl when he stood by and saw the
earth cover them. They smile at him.
and his heart grows younger.
One pfocessign ends and another be-
gins. These afe tho iaees of men and
wetneh stricken down in the hoCnday OF
life. Some II shem had shared his
hopes and sympathizea With his sorrows
all had been his friends. Tile sea. the
lakd .nd the forest gave their dead tC
| the processloii ~ shadows, and each face
was recognized and reibsmbsred. The
procession moves on and Oh. He il
shocked to realize that so many OF his
| friends fell in the battle of life while he
was spared to grow old and rest in peace.
Now comes The third procession.
There u n father, old and bent and fee
bic; a mother With wfinkled, patient
face; brothers in youth ind middle age;
sisters who wept with him over some of
the graves. Every face looks as it did
In HE. every eye meets him with glad
look Of recognition. The shadows wave
tneit hands and move on, and the old
man heatt grows childish and big.
There is another procession. The
first shadow is that of loved wife, who
died while the snow-white locks ktd
scarcely turned giGti Then came the
children-sons and daugiitets--iive in
all. One by one they had grown weaty
and rested by the wayside, leaving hus-
band and father to pnrsuo the journey
alone. The procession halls, and "very
shadow holds out its hands to the poci
old man as if in supplication. His heart
swells-- tears fill his eyes, and he cries
out TO them!
81 see you all--t am ooming"
Back with your light! Bu. it is too
late. The glare of the lamp filings the
twilight ont of the room with hasty
hand, and the shadows which crept
along the wall are gone forever, No one
saw them but the old man, aud yet there
is proof of their presence. His poor
old hands are outstretched - on his
white cheeks are tears-on his wrin.
killed. face smile of joy and glNdness.
His spirit had joined the shadows
M. QUAD.