The Democrat. (Scotland Neck, Halifax Co., N.C.) 1884-1896, 1891-07-30
THAT HOME!
TvE PLACE TENDEREST
MEMORIES.
Cur CI.iIdOOd's Home.

feet
Have climbed the earliest, and the
streams most sweet
Are ever those at which our young lips
drank,
Stopped to the waters Ger the grassy
bank.
There is no loftier sentiment of
the human heart nor one more deep
lv implanted or more difficult to
eradicate than the instructive love
one has for the home OF his cbild>
hood. No OTHER place will appear to
ma half so beautiful as that one which
happens to to be endeared to our
hearts by early recollections and
pleasant associations. No matter
how rude and wild it may be, it will
seem TO US the dearest. sweetest spot
oF all the earth. 1t is place so beau
tiful to IS "tbat it seems that God
had created it with a smile and the
emile had crystalized on every hill
and valley" Around it cluster the
tender memories and the thrilling
associations OF childhood. With
every spot there is recollection that
makes it hallowed ground. Though
we nav be removed from 1t in after
vcars the choicest rooms in our
minds are always hung with memory
pictures selected from happy hours
spent there. The memory of these
days will eyer b,
a star to light our path of tears,
i rainbow on the sky of years.
There a.e few lives SO barren of
incident or feeling as not to be stir
red by he fond recollections OF early
home. When we visit tie haunts of
childhood a multitude Of tender re-
collections throng our brain and
THRILL rs with a strange, undehnable
10y. Then it is that We recall the
sweetest moments Of our lives. then
is brought back to Us long-forgotten
raemoriee, dead and buried dreams,
faint and voicvless strains Of music,
pictures long vanished from the gal
lery Of memory,
| am sitting in my room this even
ing watching the floating clouds and
the falling rain, and the sunlight
ever and anon breaks through the
riffs Of clouds, sweet thoughts Of the
bygone fit through the chambers Of
NY memory, and my mind, with re-
Prospective view, goes back through
the long yistas Of vanished years,
even 80 the days of early boyhood.
rs rcmocy's fingers strike the harp
Of OLD iaug syne the melody Of
happy chilihOod is waited in sweet
strains to nv ear. Now | recall
sccnes that clustered about child
hood's happy years, when We rcamed
the hills and sported where the
swayjng willows hung to watch the
bGOhles burst in the brooks onward
flow. Memory treasures deep down
IL ner coral depths these bright
gems from the clondless days of
yOTe. unconscious Of the trials that
awaited us IN the busy world.
low dear are the recollections
which cluster around the old log
schocihousc, its associations, the
friends of our childhood, whose
images yet bang on memory,s wall.
The place where we used to say A,
j, c, the foundation upon which the
superstructure of our subsequent at
t@inments have been built. There it
was we loved the little rustic mai
den whose cheeks glowed with health
and beauty. How we'll do remem-
Der that when anything bad gone
wrong with Us during the dav. on |
our return from schoul our % mother
"oHlj inset rs at the gate, and rails !
ing her fataomless black eyes woul,
note II ours the shadows resting |
there. All these make it source of |
pleasant retrospective though. 1t is
tue grand oasis that will scatter its
sweet iof.ence all along the worn
a2d beaten paths of our after lives.
How sweet to treasure up memo
Tles Of the old homestead, where the
dearest moments of our lives were
spent rambling in the woody glen
and beside the babbling brook. My
mind goes back TO the old farmhouse.
with its old,fashioned shed rooms
ana 'ine-clad porch, surrounded by
huge old oaks overgrown with moss.
which have for years withstood the
rayages Of the storm, and yet stand
IS mighty sentinels keeping solemn
guard over the old weather-beaten
house. Teere, too, was the deep old
we'll in which the undiscovered
bucket hung. Here ] delighted ,