The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1894-07-10
THOUGHTS,
Joe Jackson Now Gives q Few Thoughts
Stolen at Stray Moments From
Lies Varying Scenes.
NO. 5.

tramp lie Is a strange life, stranger
than truth or fiction. Nobody knows
but he who has tramped their real ex-
perlence. We are not altogether lost
TO the sweet, enticing dreams and
memories of other people. We do
sometimes weep woman tears. as it
were. Often we look back in the dim
past to the halcyon days of yore when
we had a home and a sweetheart, a
loving, tender blossom of love. 1t
MAKES me weep to think of the sweet
heart of my childish days, to think
tnat n is gone, forever gone from
l rue world of woe and left me
alone IN my sorrow. It makes a man
feel great to think that some good
woman loves him-loves in sunshine
n rain. To know that we have n
true friend who will stand by US when
all others prove false is indeed a bless
ing. To know that some tender breast
Is klndled with joy whenever our foot
steps echo on the steps, and to know
that some loved heart is weary when
we depart, is worth a world of ambi-
ton. After all, love is the only thing
worth c~herishing. Longfellow says:
There are sweeter dreams than the dreams of
Which are the dreams of love-"
Oh, 1 remember a long time ago
when my sweetheart-Elsie was her
name-and 1 used to sit and talk the
hours away, building great palaces of
glory out of thoughts, and her little,
soft, lilly-white hands lay tenderly in
mine and with a loving smile playing
about her dear, sweet lips and a ruby
dimple in her love lit cheeks, I'd gaze
into the depths of her sparkling eyes,
gaze until 'methought Heaven was
near; and OH what sweet, matchless
hopes there lies in a pure, angelic
woman's soul. And then she would
sit close to my side and say so very
sweetly, "Ah, Joe, you're a good boy;
you're my own sweet darling, my all;
Oh, Joe, just give me a kiss; I'll never
tell" And as life-pure childish
lives they were-would make music
more lulling than Heaven ever heard,
m%ethought what a blessed thing it
was to live and love. Since then the
shadows have come, throwing their
dark, dismal shrouds over life's path
way, and the pillows have roared loud
and awful, and we almost forget the
time when we were sweethearts. Now
I've lost home and friends, lover and
helper-all is lost, and I stand musing
upon days gone by. Pity the sorrows
of a poor old tramp as he stands weep
ing and waiting for his call to a better
country. Somehow or other my
thoughts will turn back to the time
when my sweetheart was near. Years
have passed, piling up labors upon
labors, scene upon scenes, dreams
upon dreams, Thoughts upon thoughts
and things upon things, but underneath
them all / trace the features of my
first sweetheart. And there Is no love
half so sweet as u first love. I've
tried to forget the tender, the sympa-
thetic, the sentimental, the poetic in
life, but I can't do it. I've tried to
conform to customs and habits and
think and love as others love, but 1
can't do it. That loving face will come
to mind in spite of everything. I've
seen many beautiful ladies in my life,
beautiful in all that adorns a pure and
holy womanhood, but none have the
charms for me as did my sweetheart
of yore. And that sweetheart is only
secondary in memory's casket to
mother. I've wandered the wide world
over, beholding womanhood of every
mould and character and station, and
as l see them I try to find some faint
traces of my angel mother. I have
said that I would wed in spite Of every
thing the woman who comes nearest to
the ideal of my sainted mother. This
is a rash statement for a tramp to
make. but never mind, Joe Jackson
made it. 1 would dig to the very bot
tenn of science, I would climb to the
very mountain tops of fame, I would
do anything in order to win the heart
that could love like mothers heart
could love. I know you think me
foolish to write about such old, tender
themes, but at times I can't help it.
This old world is too selfish to stop to
think about the poesy in life, but I'm
only a tramp and you'll forgive me. 1
know not how others want me to