Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1896-11-27
THE OLD HOME.
THE DEAREST SPOT ON GODS
GREEN EARTH.
A PATHETIC STORY
Of Fond Recollections that Ten
Derby Clung About the old
Home Place.

Of old rough weather beate1
apple trees behind it, while al
outer circle of ancient elns lean
ed reverently over it like faith
ful guardians. The low rec
house, with its broad wings
make you think of a mother bird
bl blooding over her well filled nest
But the nestlings were all gone
now-had wandered far from the
old home which seemed to them
shabbier and more cramped
every time they came back for a
short visit.
Only mother clung to it closer
and closer as the years went by.
When the busy sons and fashion,
able daughters called it lonely,
and the grandchildren wandered
all over its queer little hooks
and corners, and remarked with
open contempt upon the stiff old
furniture and the tiny paned
windows, the good old lady lis
tened and said nothing, but her
heart throbbed with pain, as
though she heard the maligning
of some dear friend. "They do
not know, of course," )" She thought
excusing them III her own gentle
way. "Though to other eyes it
may seem poor and old fashioned
to me it can never be SO, for it is
the first and only home that |
ever had" And after the sad,
tender manner Of the old, who
only have a happy past and all
empty present without Turing
future here, she fell a dreaming
Of by gone days, when her faith
full John had brought her a
bride, to this dear old home,
which seemed so grand and beau
tiful then. How could it ever
seem lonely and humble to her,
when it was so rich III a thou,
sand happy, blessed recollections?
Had that not been Johns favor~
lie rose bush? Had not she and
John planted that very mountain
ash together? And could the
rooms ever seem empty and
grabbed to her when every nook
and corner spoke to her some
times of the living or of the dead
as eloquently as tongues could
do?
Here is where she used to sit
and watch the fire Oh winter
evenings, rocking the cradle as
she knit. This dark spot on the
floor is where baby Mary had
spilled the ink while she sat
there writing to the soldier faith
er far away where the battle
ragged OF on the long, dreary
march. And here beside the old
fashioned table on which still
lay the we'll thumbed family
Bible, she had knelt and prayed
for twenty years with john
prayed for her little ones III tear
full grief when he was gone
prayed for them when they one
by one slipped from her arms
out into the cold world, and
where she still nightly bent her
stiff old knees to pray for them
and theirs.
Mother only loved the old
house better as the years rolled
on, but when grim old age had
crept slowly upon her, it was de
cided i'll family council that she
must make up her mind to come
and live with one or the other of
tl.-,n, for it was altogether out
of the question for her to remain
il that gloomy old house alone.
so, one sad day, over powers d by
the sons and daughters who
III. art to be kind, mother went
softly to aud fro over the old
house taking leave 0: it all, and
th.. last farewell wa the visit to
the two ;nouAIs Auder the droop
ing elms where john slept and
the first born liItle soI lay.
Then, with a feeling that the
world can never quite under
stand, she was driven away to
the fine city resldence--they
don't call them homes now
where Alfred and his wife who
for all her kindness rather over
powered mother with her fine
ways, had given her a stately
room, and what was the most
/ dreadful, she was supposed to
keep it there by herself. Yes,
they meant to be kind to her,
but the city ways and styles gave
the old lady the feeling that she
was in an asylum, and in spite
of all the grandeur, mothers
wrinkled cheeks lost their soft
pink like that of a half-wilted
rose, and she began to grow
feeble and Worn, though every