The sea coast echo. [volume] (Bay Saint Louis, Miss.) 1892-current, 1898-03-12
The Oak and The Cottage.

81 :" iohS ehdO piSISSS- iichi
site of the salt-lake bay, and at
the end where rises a monarch
oak, and under its staunch arms
stands an old deserted cottage.
Twas on one of those bleak
windy days when the gusts of
wind came sweeping from theIshore
and made the oaken boughs stoop
and kiss the mark Of years; and
when the din of peltering acorns
ceased, the oak stopped down once
more and, pressing It's glandifer-
GUS countenance against the surf
of moss, whispered through an
aperture in the roof: "Oh saint
or sinner, | have watched and
waited some thirty years past to
hear you unfold the secrets of
your hidden life. / have stood
here some scores of years and
when you were lying on yon close
by hill / watched your course
through life. You were in costa
sizes of JOY then, but tell me, oh
mansion, was it your declining
years? come. shelter yourself un-
der my maternal arms. Oh please
awake from your dark revery or
celestial dreams and tell me the
bane or boon of your brooding
thoughts!"
"As every day has it's night, so
has every life its shadows. So
then listen, dear oak, and | will
tell to you the joys and sorrows
that to my lot in life befell:"
"When | stood upon that hill,
dear oak, my wants in life were
few. Down at my feet was IA CUR
Cling rivulet where my fair young
face was won. to look and sec
revealed in the mirrored depths
the azure tints of the inverted sky.
And as | stood and listened to
the ripping waters, and saw the
flexible scions of the weeping
willow. hoped and wished that
in my last decayI might be buried
by the side of the rill. where
the twittering birds that filtered
in the sunbeams, would chant in
the flood of melody: the last rites
of sacred dirge; and where my
epitaph would be carved on every
wavelet and borne with them to
the verge of the opposite shore
But my happy dreams were brok-
en-, for ere long stately structure
was erected that deprived me of
the views of the streamlet's lands
cape. All my expectations were
then unrealized. All dear oak,
those deserve pity; who in their
life had one JOY to live upon, one
boon to hope for, and in tho end
to be dupedl All fouly cheated!
You asked me, dear oak, whether
| was a saint or sinner. IF dreams
are responsive to sin then / am
black one indeed, for my thirty
years of repose were as dark as
dante vision. / dreamt that with
the rod of steel guarded the hid
den Golfers; that in my chambers
ghosts and goblins reighned su-
preme. All my dreams we're Of
sinister omen. l have a remote
recollection (whether it is fancy
or reality that / saw written upon
the death scroll the names Of
those that expired within my
enchanted walls. Tell me oak
what happened whilst | was half
musing, half sleeping?
"Tis true, dear mansion, that
your musing was reality for | saw
the througs of people that sur
rounded you whenever the dead
was brought in silence from meath
your mistress (lIke an unforsaken
tenant) chanced to mount your
steps your massive doors creaked
with joy, and the vine at your
window was whispering"
And the oak aud the masion
sang of the semi-comic tragedy
that like a veil overhung their
life. And in deep long chorus
they sang together of the time
when they would be club in the
garb of the happy days of yore.
Bay St. Louis. Miss. r. G.. P. g