Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-12-14

that father went. With me safe by his
side he used to sleep and dream, while
the sermon was flowing out from eloquent
lips. Safe-did l use that word Alright!
He might not have dOZed so quietly had
he known that there was a voice sounding
within those walls whose faintest echoes
thrilled upon my ears and awoke my
dulled spirit to life once more.
What bound my heart gave as the
choir burst forth into the joyous hymn:
''Joy to the world. the Lord is come"
There were several voices, but only one
for me.
OF all the gifts of the Great Creator
none are to me more wonderful than the
human voice. Once heard and known it
is known forever. Who has ever forgot
ten the tones of beloved voice? Among
mingled hundreds it can be caught and
recognized otter more readily than the
eye can recall features. Every emotion
is swayed by its power. Alas, for the
voice that is remembered most when it
rose and fell upon PASSIONS wavesl Bless
ings rest upon the one whose every tone
when recalled breathes only of loving
kindness. 1t had been months since
heard it, and when not a thrOb OF hope or
expectancy awaited it, it swept over me
Ike the sound of sweet songs in the night
time. The choir singers sat back of the
congregation, and L did not turn to look;
u was enough just then to hear. 1t would
be difficult to imagine a sound more musi-
cal than that to which l listened. The
words were those of the hymn that l
learned from my mothers lips, and L
knew them every one. Now each one fell
upon my listening ear with a new mean
ing. 1t was voice full Of worship, and
Immediately my soul was lifted by it out
of the depths of gloom into which l had
fallen. From that time l bore my sorrow
cheerfully and tried to live right. More
than once when out with father | saw my
friend, but it was only a glimpse. He
was always far off and seemed absorbed.
Perhaps he was forgetting. Sabbath at
ter Sabbath l heard his voice in the choir.
and something In it each time gave me
new strength to live. TWAS strange that
father never seemed aware of his pres
ence in the congregation, and not once
did he allude to the singers. 1t was
probable he thought nothing ABOUT them.
as he was no singer. l could but rejoice
that he seemed ObliViOus, as by this Twas
enabled to enjoy one pleasure. l did not
dare once to turn and look for fear that
father would observe me and take my 10Y
from me. Surely it was, in seeming, but
little pleasure, yet 1t was the only link
that bound me to my happy girlhOOd.
The months of winter thus passed
away, and in the spring l came again to
see the dawning of another birthday. 1t
was on a lovely morning in April that
awOke and remembered that just year
ago had opened my Jewels. l had done
it with all the fervor of sweet sixteen.
All! how changed l was!-hOW much
wiser and sadder! / arose and quietly
made my toilette, thinking all the while Of
my strange life. Why was il to be ever
clOuded: a year ago l had been free as
the mOcking-bird. Now was prisoner.
never could forget for one moment that
bars as strong as iron marked the narrow
limits of my liberty.
How well can ] recall the moment
when l leaned from my window on that
morning and listened TO RObbie's matm
salutatiOn. What strange fOreshadOWing
Ofevents came over me, and made me stand
with the tears springing While Robbie
trilled away. l was ready dressed for
the morning service, as it was always my
Sabbath custom to prepare for the days
duties when l first arose. AS some I'M
usual impulse moved me, l went back to
my bureau and took out the chain of gold
and fastened it around my neck. Then
returned to the window and began talk
ing aloud to the bird, as l used to in the
happy days long past.
at is my birthday again, Robbie. Who
remembers it, do you think? | mu It take
out Aunt Miriam's present and imagine
it a birthday gift to make me feel sun
shiny"
| looked down at the diamonds and,
scarcely knowing why, unfastened the
chain and began marking upon the win
dOw-pane with one of them. l wrote the
word farewell" and was just about to
add something else when fathers perem-
tory call made me start.
Il will finish it after breakfast" said l
to myself, as l hurried OF; but only that
one word remains tt ere still.
Every little event of the morning
seemed to impress itself upon my mind.
One in particular love to look back over ::
1t was just before father and l started OFF
for church; he stopped down and kissed
nv brow in mood to which he was then
seldom used. 1 looked up almost wonder
ingly into his face; then the serious look
left it, and he broke out in his old sailor
fashion:
tYou're a spanking neat little craft,
that's all, only you're a triie too light.
Tired of old Captain, Ell"
l could not keep back my tears when he
said this. He was so really tender in his
manner it overcame me. How thankfully
do / remember that could reply truth
fully. No. no." IwOuld have nestled by
his side unto the end had he so willed it.
| walked with him carelessly out the
gate and never looked back upon the dear
old walls of home, for kind Providence
held in veil the future. The services went
on much as usual-frst the glad vOlunta-
~, Jerusalem my happy hOme," and the
voice of my friend greeted NE as it al
ways did like benson.
The HYMN was gwen out, when little
bOy handed me book. He came noise
lessly and went without arOusing the no.
tice of father, who sat enscOnced in his
cushioned corner with eyes already half
dreaming.
L opened the book with kind OF intui-
tiOn that it held something precious. and
there. at the first opening, / saw tiny
bunch of pink daisies newly pressed and
tied with a silver hair. They were fast
ened to a card upon which were these few
words
sSweet Daisy's birthday. Gods best
blessings upon her prays ma mere" l
knew who had written the words for her.
How sweet is kind remembrance to every
heart! Surely it was not strange that
mine throbbed as | cried in spirit;
s'SOme one has not forgotten me-"
If we had been any where but at church
| l should have been driven by quickened
| sense of honor to show the card to father
| at once, for l had kept to the letter all
| that he required Of me, and was bound by
nv fidelity to him to continue this course.
| / was glad that for a little season could
! hug the Joy to my heart and feel that 1t
was mine OulSs
After the services were over we passed
/ out as usual through a side door. looked
up and glanced towards the front en-
| trance carelessly, not expecting TO see my
| friend, for usually the choir remained to
practice. A glance suticed me this time,
| for there was Prof. Williams descending
| the steps carefully because of his moth
er who was supported by his arm. L did
/ not wish father to see them, so turned
away and walked onward. The time had
come when l must tell what had been
given me. on it was hard to do, when l
was sure that my joys would be narrowed
down after this revelation. L made bold
| at last and gave him the card and the
! flowers, saying:
sSThis is all, father, that has ever come
! to me. Forgive her, please"
| saw his face flush angrlly and the
! veins on his forehead swell, but he said
/ nothing, only threw the card down and
! trOd upon it. Behind us walked the son
| and mother, and they would surely see the
sweet gift trampled underfoot and
scOrned. Not even sigh escaped my
/ lips, but it took a mighty inward struggle
| to be silent and true. l prayed nightly
| against the torrent of bitterness that
I threatened to Overwhelm me. 1t was a
/ blessing to me that in a few moments we
I had turned corner and were out of sight
of the couple who were slowly tOiling on.
We overlook a friend who detained
| father at his gate, and some length OF
I time passed while we stood there. Our
/ home was in the suburbs, standing entire
| II oIopa oIpv q fnv hundred wards hpVOnd