Year: 1860

Heigho! what gloomy day. Nine O'Clock,
and the rain falls fast and steadily it did when
[ first looked out of my window this morning.
What disnal sky! 1t gives me the blues -
to look at it, from its color though, for there's
not a specl Of bike to be seen anywhere. How
drearily the rain thumps on the roof and spashes
against my window with wearisone monotony.
The trees bend down their dripping boughs in
gloomy sorrow, the flowers crushed and broken
weep in silence, the birds have ceased their song.
and seek shelter from the rain the weary fowls
hide their heads under their wing to shut out the
gloomy scene, and cluck discontentedly, as they
shake the wet from their soaking feathers. The
streets are nearly deserted, with here and there a
doleful looking pedestrian wading through mud
and water. think that young gentleman with
the shawl round him will get his shining shoes
spattered, although he steps along daintily.
That barefooted urchin with his pants rolled up
and his hands in his pockets is surely philoso-
pher or he could never saunter SO unconcernediy
through such rain whistling merr- ly; wonder if
he ever had &c the blues guess not-even now
there's mischievous smile on his face, as he
touches his hat to that large sour looking old gen
teman with the mammoth umbrella. Wonder
where that old lady can be going stepping along
briskly with her basket on her arm, picking





rattling slowly along poor horse, pity him, how
meek he looks with his head bent down, winking
his great eyes solemnly. Poor driver! pity
him too, he looks meek and solemn as his horse
with his white souched hat-like half open frog
stool-pulled down over his eyes while he gazes
with earnest intensity at his horses ears. Won
der if it isn't habit only which makes him gent
ly jerk the lines every five minutes and give that
Fastening cluck guess his horse thinks so for he
logs steadily on without noticing either Jerk or
ri hatI to 6av ha7
Pshaw, might have known-its the Drs, of
course. ''.rain shine wind snow, he must
be about his duty regardless of the weather Poor
doctors they have hard lot, and but little sym
pathy. l am really sor-, but pshaw! he's i'll a
comfortable buggy well wrapped up, with good
umbrella While many to-day have neither
bre!las nor buggies. What dignifed little woman
is that with the long bonnet drawn over her face
and the rain streaming numerically from her
small umbrella over her dark dress and shawl.
Oh that's only the teacher on her way to school:
she too must be out let the weather be as it may.
No to pity, her.-is ;, she not going to de-
ightful task 2" The poet says It's


.sDelightful task to the tender thought,


And teach the young idea how to shoot" g


So she must try and think too, and sit undis
turbed amid the noisy hum of the children; and
try to still the throbbing of her heart and the
weary aching of her head while with the strong
effort of her will she drives back the sealding
tears that sometimes start to her eyes. Some lit
tie eyes watching for her there, some little
hearts will grow glad at her approach, and some
rosy lips will welcome her coming; making her
feel thankful that she has the love of such pure
beings when other friends grow cold.


There troubled faces pressed against the
many windows, casting anxious G glances at the
relentless sky; but still the rain comes down IN
torrents. How dreadful must those people have
felt wi ho needed not the warnings of Noah when
the angry clouds had forever shut out from them
the brilliant sun, and the rain continued to fall
for 60 forty days and nights!' We are discomfort
ed mortals-sometme ago we grew weary of the
that it has come. To morrow nature will appear
refreshed and beautiful in the cheering sunlight
and doubIy brght after the gloom of to-day. 'Tis
like life-if We had no dark days of adversely we
How much better it would be could we always
make His will ours-who " maketh his sun to
shine on the evil and on the good; and his rain
to fall on the just and unjust


Goldsbero', N. c., May 1860.