Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1893-02-01

1
There are touches of remembered
hands, come of them lying still under
Northern pines and Southern mag
| nOlias
There are visions of orchards pink
and white in blooming beauty; sweet
scented clover fields where childish
feet roved; the maple Grove Semi
nary" set in its marvellous forest Of
naples brilliant in their autumn glory
of scarlet and gold. @
We sc snow covered fields, the rush
ing river, the shaded drives, soldier
forms clad in blue, with glistening
epaulettes, the sound of bugle and
drum, tears, songs, laughter-all one
vast .phantasmagoria it passes before
our eyes, the Long Ago.
| There's a musical ilse on the river of Time,
Where soft is the summer air,
And the name Of this isle is the Long Ago,
And we bury our treasures there;
| There are brows of beauty and bosOms of
snow,
| There are heaps of dust, but we love them
There are trinkets and tresses of hair.
There are fragments of song that nobody
sings,
And part of an infants prayer;
There's lutte unswept, and harp without
| There are broken VOWS and pieces of rings
ana garments they used to wear
A little item from Watertown, Wis. :,
paper, is the magician which tonight
| brings back visions from the elsie of
Long Ago." and memory carries us
| back score of years to the scene of
Aud Lang Syne.
1t gives an account of the editors
| twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, the
| merry greetings, the souvenirs which
friendship brought, the tokens of good
wishes Of affection. At first it seems
| incredulOus that our friend is so old.
Then we stop and count, and are in
credulous no more. They will all be
| the 'boys and girls to US to the last.
We will grow gray, and pet our grand
children, and wear spectacles, and
celebrate our own silver wedding, but
we look back to them as the old jolly
| crowd, always young.
He was just "Will' in those days,
and the guide wife" was "Guss," two
of the merriest of the lot. He is dig
church man-with a luxuriant beard,
and a Chesterfeldian manner very i'm
| pressive.
He was great rascal in Lang Syne.
His dignity didn't materialize early,
and his drolleries, and caricatures,
his inimitable solos, his impromptu
speeches bring to our. mind the laugh
ter of by-gone scenes. There were.fve
of the Jolly TESTERS" Will, Herbert,
Charley, John and Jonas. Will alone
is left The other "boys' have gone
home long ago. Death has thinned the
ranks and taken some of the brightest
stars from our little galaxy. No hap
pier crowd Of young folks ever lived.
We dwelt amid the beauties of forest
and river, and the music of Lake Mich
igan's waves was in our ears; every
charm of nature was at our doors. We
began with the frolics to the sugar
camp in March and April, then follow
ed the May parties, the summer months
of rest and recreation to the falls and
down the lake. We camped for weeks
on lovely islands on beautif La Bellies
blue waters, we bathed and fished, and
rowed and hunted; we had clam
bakes' and got just as much fun out of
it as though we were eating the genu-
inc article at Cape Cod. We made
"chowder until we could rival Del
monico's great Chef" and we trolled
for the beautiful finny creatures away
around the lake before daylight, COM
ing in to our breakfast with cargo of
fish and waterlilies. We hailed the
first snow with rejoicing.
We hadn't got to the time then when
moonlight meant rheumatism, and
when we preferred to read "Rells
Across the Snow in a rocking chair
by the fire, and letting someone else
have the actual experience.
!. It makes us feel the tingle of the
blood of the "teens'' in our veins to
recall those sleighrides; big sleighs
with two long seats, four horses and a
good driver, the oysters and goodies
secure under the seat, and the watch
word "Ixonia' Eight or ten miles
through the crisp air, everything still
and white in splendor of moonlight on
the snow Often the thermometer
was downtown below the round
mark, but what cared that crowd fo1
thermometers.
Wolf and buffalo robes were over
and under, where. There were
no hats on those nights, all hoods and
furs. We sang till the echoes rang
back over hill and valley; we laughed
the Overlooking, heartfelt laugh that
boarding-school days, with the sep.
arations and the summer and
holiday vacations when the fun was
madden and merrier than ever. Beau
tlful youth, far too transitory! The sun
climbed the hill, life's panorama spread
out its varied scenes, the play was be-
gun, and the young actors scattered
each to his part. Now the meridian
has been passed, the footsteps are less
light, the ringing laugh has dropped to
more sober tone; the sky has ceased
to be always so blue and fair, the music
of life touches many minor chords, and
storms have swept across the horizon,
and some banks here and there have
gone down. Some grew tired of the
play and dropped out here and there.
and others filled the gaps. Out in the
beautiful "Oak Forest" there are white
headstones telling where they sleep
Before it bore the name of cemetery
often we have picnicked there in the
shade of those beautiful trees. Now
there are gravel drives, and green OF
snow covered mounds, and vaults
There are treasures there whose going
left broken lives, and broken hearts
some have slumbered long, and over
some the tears are still undrled, and a
|. | tho olOCn of q soft Silmm2r'S QaV We