Year: 1867

I, seems to me that the old honse never look
ed qlite so pleasant as it does tonight, in this
stiIl harvest moon light.


know it a dreadful old house, brown and
low, and weather-beaten-not much TO boast Of
in its bes. days, and now it shrinks and
auivers and can't hold it's own against gale,
and its roof leaks with every cup full of shower
but it's my dear old home for all that; and now
that this is the last night, and Pm going away
to the great, vast, noisy city tomorrow, n
stranee sadness comes over me, standing here by
che little brown gate, and looking at: the old
1isce, and wondering what will happen before I
stand here again.


There are the two great cherry trees I've clam
Sered every summer that can remember, and
tossed down the fruit until it lay thick red bail
an the grass; and there is the line of currant
bushes that hide the old worm eaten, shaky fen
ces and there''is the ounce tree in the corner
that sweetens the air all about It; and just be-
-1ond the we'll curb stands the old gnarled apple
tree, with the birds nests rocking up in the
bousas--little rebins will you sing On just as
Swsctly up there when I'm gomez


neyerexpeeted to feel like this. It's hard to
realize now that my life here has ended-that |
ssa,i never drive the up in the hill pastures
.uain when the grass is sanded all over with
shining dews-that shall never NOW down the
sweet clover nor 60 shouting among the black
very patches, nor heap up the ripe ears in the
preat corn6eld over yonder, and somehow it
makes me sad to feel that everything will go on
;zst as it always has done, and nothing will mind
when Tn gone away.


Come now, as though was going to make a
fool of myself bec,use at last Pm going to the
eity-the city after which my thoughts and dream
have painted for years-the goal of all my hopes
and iongincs, which has seemed SO far OF,
which I've reached at length.


You're going 20 make YOUR fortune, Tom Rey-
no ls-just think of thatl


No more chopping wood and toiling at The
cIow. no more long DAYS cutting grass in the
,nc.aoxs and coming back tired ont with the
hard work at night, to drive the cows home;
you're going 10 make nam ofyourself to take
your chances in the thickest OF the fight out yon-
der in the great city, and it shall go hard with
YOU if YOU don't make yonr pile and pluck your
prize with the hest of them.


For mean to make monev-to he a rich man
I'll be faithful, Industrious, shrewd, and make my
way up to the top Of the ladder.


Aud some day shall come back hereto the
old home, and people will stare and say, 'ETha'
Ia Tom REYNOLDS, who used to go barefoot to the
row pastures and drive ths old ex-cart down to
the mill" The old house shall come down then
and in its place shall stand handsome mansion
FAR m ,thcr and little Amy-Amv will he grown
woman bv that time, and shall make lady o.
her. bless the de,r chubby sis! how pleasant il
wifi be to see those ROSY cheeks of hers shining
behind the blinds of the stately new home
and how proud the little laughing pusS will be
of brother Tom whea he hands her into his fine
carriage and dashes down the village street with
her by his side!


And the poor old nother-ah, that's the best
OF ali. she who has toiled so hard to keep Amy
and me under the old roof since father died-she
shall have the rest she's needed so long then!-
She shall sit by the window Of the new house in
her black silk dress, and her pretty white caps,
and the hands that have worked so hard lying
idle in her lap fscn, and her eyes, full of pride
and tenderness, shall follow her boy around the
house-her boy that is a rich man now, and tina
has never forgotten what she taught him, to be
honest, and just and true in the thick ofall temp
tatiou.


And then, too, somebody will he grown a lady
little Lucy Ames-tlie Doctors daughter, witt
her hair that has the gold of the spring dande
lions. and her eyes the blue of the cool spring
away up among rocks of there--little Lucy will
your sweet shy fsce, and your kindly words
and smile always ready for me, though wa
your fathers choice boy And what will yo'
say when come back rich man, with house
and lands, and an honorable name?


You will be a kly then little Lucy, but vii
your blue eyes smile on me just as sweetly-wil
you come dancing ont Of the door with the ligh
in your golden hair and tho old bright welcom
in yoar facet


What if-what if-ah, Lucy, the question will
do to wait, for have only seen my eighteen
birthday yet, and you are inside your fifteenth
But shall carry the thought hidden away dow
trmy heart to the great city tomorrow.


Alb, the old, swift hopes and longings-th
strong, fiery ambitious come back, and stir th
blood of my youth sgain. long for the MOI
row 70 come so that can be away, and at work
Good bye, old home, and yet shall carry 20
too in my:heart as you looked that last nigh
whom stood by the little gate, and yon lay o'
fore me asleep in the moonlight.


COMING BACK AT FORTY FIVE


II is Just a score and quarter of years ag
since rstood here by the old gate, and my bloc
was hot then and my heart throbbed high wit
the fiery dreams and hopes of youth.


Am grown SO old then2 have not passe
beyond my prime yet, though my years lea
toward ahy and my bar is oyershot with siive
herc and there.