The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-02-20

and himself and wife, and his sons family were
driven from it to the hills for safety-but the
old mans telling of the story cannot be i'm
proved upon. 1t ran ike this: ''Last year. ven
l swim out fOn dot leede home off mine, nit
my wife, unit my son his wife unit leedle giFis
dink dots der last time gOOt-bye to dose PROPERTY
But alder der waller il gone dOwn-unt dry oop
unit eberding dere vas yet der house dere.
Unit my friends dey salt Dots all you got! Veil,
feeX oop der households soTnedingl feeX oop der
house, unit you would still haiti yet home'
VEIL all SUMNER go to work, unit spent me
eberding unit feex der PROPERTY. Den l got yet
a mortgage on der house! Dees time here der
water come aGain-till | wish it vas
last year vonce! INT now all safe is
my wife, unit my son his wife, unit my
leedle granehilderns! Else, overriding is gone!
All-everding!-De house sone-unt-unt--der
mortgage gone, tool" And then the old Teutonic
face melted all over i'll sunshiny SMILES and,
turning, he bent and lifted a sleepy little girl
from pile of dirty bundles in the depot waiting
room and went pacing up and down the muddy
floor, saying CHEEKY things in German to the
child l thought the whole thing rather beauti-
full That's the kind of an old man who, saying
goodbye to his son, would lean and kiss the
young mans hand as in the Dutch regions OF
Pennsylvania, two or three weeks ago, [ saw an
old man do.
Mark Lemon must have intimately known and
loved the genteel old man of the city when the
once famous domestic drama of Grandfather
Whitehead was conceived. In the play the old
mana once prosperous merchant-fnds a
happy home in the household of his son-in-law
And here it is that the gentle
author has drawn at the poem
the picture and the living proof of the old
Wordsworthian axiom, ''Fhe child is father to
the man. The old man. in his simple way,
and in his great love for his wiIlful httlel Tand-
child, is being continually distracted from the
grave sermons and moral lessons he would read
the boy. AS, for instance, aggrievedly attacking
the little fellows neglect of his books and his in
ordinate tendency toward idleness and play
the culprit, in the meantime, down on the floor
clumsily winding his top-the old man runs on
something in this wise:
"Pay! play! playi Always play and no work,
no study, no lessons And here you are, the only
child of the most ndulgent parents in the world,
parents that, proud as they are Of you, would
DO ten times prouder only to see You at your
book, storing your mind with useful knowledge,
instead Of, day in, day out, frittering away your
time over your toys, and your tops and mar
6les. And even when your old grand
father tries to advise you and wants
to help you, and is always ready and eager to
assist you, and all-Why what's it all amount
tot Coax and beg and tease and plead with
you and yet, and yet Mechanically kneeling
as he speaks Now that's not the way to wind
your top! How many more times will L have to
show you' And an instant later the old mans
admonitions are entirely forgotten, and his
artless nature-dull now to everything but the
childish gle9 in which he shares is all the
sweeter and more lovable for its simplicity.
And soft is. Old Man, that you are alwaystoueh-
ing the very tenderest placesI in our hearts-un-
consciously appealing to our warmest sympa-
thies, and taking to yourself our purest love. we
look upon your dropping figure, and we marx
your lettering step and trembling hand, yet
reliant something in your face foPbids compass
sion,- and a something in your eye will not per
nit us to look sOrPOwfully on you. And, however
we may smile at your quaint ways and old
school oddities of manner and of speech, our
merriment is ever tempered with the gentlest
reverence.