Year: 1872

Il has been well and truly said that


our early childhood years are our hap


piest What individual is there who ha


not, when amid the cares, the tolls and


perplezities of their maturer years, look
ed back with a sigh and a regret &c
the scenes Of their youthful days, ready
TO exclaim Oh that I were a child
again. In their imagination they see
the spot where they first learned TO lisp
their parents name, and where they SO
happily persued their innocent and child
like pleasures, Perhaps their home
may have besn far from the noise and
hustle of the crowded city, in pleas
ant country village, or in some elegant
ly situated farm house, surrounded with
all the beauties of nature, and with the
blessings and comforts of life. There
may be seen the clear running brook,
with its ripling water, the pleasant little
grassy mound before the door on which
they so often sit and amuse themselves
at play. The orchard to which they
repair when tired Of their sports, to
pluck and eat the delicious fruits Of the
season. There too, is the little spot Of
ground in the garden, reserved for their
OWE private use, where they have plant
ed and reared the rose bush and the
lilac; all present themselves TO our mind
in after years and we can but exclaim
Happy days, ye have fed The gen
tie zephyr may be again flaming US with
its refreshing wings; the sun just retiring
behind the western hills, The rustic peas
ant just returning from his daily toll;
all these are stamped upon the page Of
our memory, to cheer and comfort US
in our lonely and idle moments, when
the sorrows and lamentations Of after
life surround Us.


Such are the works Of nature: and
who among US has not had ref ections
similar 10 these When far away from
the land if our nativity we may roam,
and when we look around US and behold
the flowers gently fading one by one
and the earth becoming wrapped in
frosts and snow, it is then our mind nat
urally wanders back to our early child.
hoods home, and on such occasions.
what charm would naturally rest up.
on that endearing name our home:' "The
place cons ecrated by domestic love, the
golden key to all human happiness" We
may have friends there. who are near
and dear to Us by the fond ties Of consan.
guinity aad who are waiting our return.
Sisters and brothers may be there, anx
ious TO see our places filed once more
in their midst, and hear our voices as
they minole in the old familiar songs.
Father and mother may be there-,hey
who have watched over Is and cared for
Us in our infancy, wept many bitter tears
Of sorrow for u in our absence now
eager to press Us to their hearts as Of
old and bid Us thrice welcome to the
parental roof. Surely if there is one
reflection more lovely than another it j.
that Of our early home. We may nave
dark days of pain and trouble, friends
may forsake US one by one, turn upon
US the cold shoulder Of scorn, and our
path may be strewn with sorrow and
care on every hand, yet when our mind
wanders back in the past, it finds one
spot upon which it still loves to linger
it is where our infancy was passed un.
der the faithful guidance of kind and
affectionate mother who ever supplied
our wants in time of need


Sensations similar to these have been
experienced by US all on more than one
occasion, and more especially have they
been realized when in after years we
have returned to visit our long desert ed
home. There we find the place, the
consecrated spot, where many happy
days and hours have been passed by US,
but all is now changed. The tall trees
that stood before the door are there no
more, and the beautiful willow whose
branches hung at the sides Of the house,
waiting gently in the summer breeze, it
too has been taken away. The garden
and the grassy mound where we so of.
ten played and sung our childish songs,
was no longer there. Alas all, all is
changed The many friends Of our
eorlv wars do not oraat va az of Ia