Southwest-sentinel. [volume] (Silver City, N.M.) 1883-189?, 1895-05-07
SWEEP MEMORIES.
THE MELODY GRANDMOTHER SANG
FIFTY YEARS AGO.


Douglas, Douglas. Tender and True" !
WHOM old Age Recalls the Dreams Of
tho Past rs visions, There Is Tragedy.
Three generations sat intho soft glow /
Of tho deep crimson lamp shade that
mellowed everything in the little par /
lor. There was ono daughter seated at
the piano, singing sweet and low. She
most Of all was glorifod by the ruddy
rays from the translucent paper that
fell over her Thoro was the mother,
and beside her sat the mothers mother,
near tho circumference Of tho halo the
one listening with glow Of pride, the
other, to whom the girls voice was new
tho grandmother was visitor OF tho
houso-listoning IS one who hears O
voice calling in n lonesome place. She
sat there thinking, thinking, thinking,
did this dear old soul, Of q day when
she, toe, had sat at tho piano herself, so
proudly, and had sung the tender ball
lads Of that bygono day with a voice
full of passion, a deep contralto voice,
one that touched tho heart in its most
sacred depths, when the strong, clear
notes were struck and then broke into
pleading tromolo in the upper register.
Fifty years ago that grandam's voice
had thrilled hearts now dust, or worgo
than dust-hearts that were numb to
tender things-and there was borne in
the burden Of her songs enc message,
that Of loye-evon before her heart had
known its meaning her voice had spok-
en- love. Tie voice of tho girl sitting at
the piano was like her grundmothers
had been. Ithunted Chords in the hearts
Of those who heard her and set thom
pulsing in echo TO her own sweet long
ing that conld find no words. God only
knows what long, silent, rusted chords
she touched with her resonant voice,
did this child, in her grandmother soul
She sang the simple ballads Of tie
day-"Last Night, " "Tho Clang Of tho
Wooden shoon," Marguerite and
as she sang her mother, to whom tho
singing was an old story, slipped out Of
tho room-taking all her years with her
perhaps-and left thEn together, to-
gether even in youth that sees visions.
The young shall see visions, and tine old
shall dream dreams, saith tho prophet
But when, by some magic of o voice or
some alchemy Of the soul, old age,
which has dreamed dreams, sees in one
vivid flash Of light the dreams of the
past as visions--there is tragedy.
Tho girl under the crimson lamp
shade turned idly from leaf to leaf in
her portfolio and sang by piecemeal.
The elder woman only asked that she
keep on singing. She only asked to hear
that voice, her own voice, to the very
quaver on G. And her dreams were all
but visions, and lifo was all but youth
again. There had been a wild song, one
that the hoarer did not know, aud tho
chorus sobbed out;
Oh, is It forever,
Love, that we must gayer,
o love, win you nov
Como back aSnini
And the story that the song told Of
was Of two lovers who had met undei
the roses and had known "the love o
day, the love of a life. " What q swirl
of fancies the singing Of tho child sent
eddying through the aged brainl The
music did not cease The girl recall d
a sweet old song, o peaceful, sorrowful
Gtty our grandmother sang;
Could 20 como back 10 me. Douglas, Douglas,
In the old likeness knew,
I'd be 80 faithful. so loving, Douglas, Douglns,
Douglas, tender and true.
Tho girl sang on until she thought she
had tired her grandmother, and then
whirling around on the stool she said
gayly;
"Well, grandma, how do you like It'll
Haven't 1 improved in ten years."
She roso as she said this, and without
oven waiting for a reply, AS is the way
of careless, thoughtless youth, she loft
the room humming:
Now all men beside are to mo like shadows,
Douglas, Douglas, tender aud true.
Tho girl went to her mother, who,
sho knew, was attending to some duties
OF tho household. The words 'all men
like shadows" ran through the aged
woman's head when the girl left tho
room, and she was thankful for the
ohild's thoughtlessness which had left
her alone for a moment. The spell Of
tho pleading song was upon her Hef
life was turned backward.
Young faces smiled at her. Sho seem.
cd as bold as youth, this shy old wom.
an, who two hours before had been
afraid to protest against tho oyeroharge
Of cabmal. She heard hor daughters
steps and tho Child's in tho room above
her, and, thrilled with tho mesmoric en-.
ohantment Of the song, she became
wrapped in q consuming longing to Try
If she could not sing tho old song again
She tiptood about tho room, and clos
ing tho doors and looking ever behind
her, she ciroled to the piano.
She wished to sing out loud something
that was in her heart, to put it into
words and let It tome from her lips
She believed that to say the aching
words would case q thro5bing in her
heart She could not at first bring hor-
self to begin the song, 50 she fumhlod
among the keys pretending TO hunt fof
the air, and said the words Of tho first
stanza to hcrsolf In silence. She touch.
cd tho pianissimo pedal Of tho instrn.
ment; then, as her hands upon the keys
led her to the second bar, she moaned;
As lay my heart ON your dead heart. Douglas,
Douglas, Douglas, tender and true.
And when she heard tho horrid croak
Of her own voice She reinembered-ev-
orything. God pitied her and sent her
two great tears. tears that were Of youth
that had been kept sacred through all
the years. Chicago Tribune.