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effort made to that effect. Children love daughters, and feel that it is all owing pleasant places; they love lively scenes to home attractions and the fireside iniuand joyful times; their native element is ences of childhood. mirth and music, happiness and hope. St. Anthony, Minn. Then why not surround our homes and firesides with such means and objects as
A BACHELOR'S OFFERING, will gratify and administer to their tastes and inclinations, to a degree harmless and
By H. J. L. beneficial. Music in the home circle is a I CANNOT tell thee all I dreamed great attraction to the young ; or music When thou wert by my side, anywhere. Boys will leave their noisy, When brightly o'er my spirit gleamed rude play in the street any time, if the The hope that since hath died ; melodious notes of a neighboring piano I called thee with a voiceless breath, come wafted to them on the breeze, and My life, my love, my bride, stealing softly up to the gate, will listen My star of hope in life or death, in silent, subdued admiration ; their finer My blessing and my pride. sensibilities are touched, and the native music of the young soul responds through
The whispering leaves above us hung,
The birds came warbling nigh, the sparkling or pensive eye. The noisy
The breeze its softest music sung, play seems distasteful, annoying now, Beneath that tranquil sky ; and they wish, so much, they had
We heard the waters in their flow; some music at home. With music, in- The bees went humming by ; teresting books, pleasant stories, and fire- The hope that then diffused its glow side games, in which both young and old I thought too fair to die. can participate, and with all, and above all, a dear, smiling mother, home can be
'Tis vanished all ; I dream no more, made very attractive and a - Sweet
Love's last farewell is said ; Home” indeed. The boys would not
Hope's ashes strew my pathway o'er ; start for the street or shops the moment
Life's promised flowers are dead ;
And thou dost dwell in peace afar, supper was over, to waste, or worse than
Where ne'er my feet shall tread, waste, the long.evening hours, the sweet
And o'er thee hangs love's favoring star, est and best to the family circle of all
While darkness veils my head. the twenty-four ; for their father is at home; the elder brothers and sisters are I fold no listless hands above there from their daily avocations or The heart so hushed to rest, – schools ; there's a fire in the sitting-room, The rest not born of happy love, and mother is at leisure and in her favor- Nor by its influence blessed : ite corner; the piano or melodeon is The trysting-place is green with moss, open, and there's some new sheet-music By light and shade caressed, upon the rack, inviting the nimble fingers
Where found I life's most heavy crose to try it; there is the latest magazine or
Laid on my quivering breast. paper upon the table, with its chapter or stories for the young, and everything is
Oh, let not pity touch the wound
I hide with jealous care, ready for the evening entertainment. All
Rather where song and mirth abound, is harmony, peace, and love in such a home.
And perfume loads the air,
I will the mark of joyous youth Let those who doubt try these things,
In mockery sometimes wear, and endeavor to make home the dearest
Till none shall deem the bitter truth place on earth to their children, and we
Is found in my despair. doubt not but the richest fruits will be their reward; and when age shall silver
WHEN our last "Editor's Table” was penned, first invaded Britain, and it speaks well for its little of that beautiful aspect of nature which popularity, as well as for their fond adherence fills us with love for sweet spring was devel- to ancient rites, that at this day in many parts oped. The grass was becoming green, it is of England, the peasantry still dance around true; the catkins hung warm and downy on the May-pole on the first day of the month. hazle and willow, and the first sweet offerings In Italy they celebrate this day in a manner of the year – spring beauties, anemones, and very touching and beautiful. The children, trailing arbutus – lifted up their smiling faces wives, and mothers of prisoners assemble like beauty in adversity, from the cold, water- before the windows of the prison and join their soaked earth ; but the true spring,
unhappy relations in songs of hope and free
dom. They sympathize in the misery of the “When wiukivg Mary-buds begin,
prisoners who cannot join them in the celebraWith everything that pretty bin,
tion of the day, and the scene usually ends To ope their golden eyes,”
with a repast in which the prisoners have a was not yet, and we waited patiently as we share, as their relatives, on this one day in the might. But now
year, are permitted to supply them with meat
and wine. “May, the heavenward maiden,
In our own country there is a May-day cus. Gentle and generous,
tom more beautiful than any practised in other Cometh, all o'erladen
lands. In many of our ladies' schools it is With fair things to us.
customary for the scholars to select a favorite
and beloved schoolmate, whom they crown with “Singing, as she hastens
a coronet of flowers and create “ Queen of All the land along ;
May,” addressing her in some pleasant reEach roused birdy fastens
marks significant of their love and respect, and On her welcome song.
their expectation of her bappy reign as priest
ess of the holiday. Long may this beautiful. Breathing in her singing,
custom continue. Every now and then,
There is something inexpressibly pleasing to The whole land is springing,
the heart as well as the imagination in the simWith new youth again."
ple festivals of our ancestore.“ Thanksgiving
day," so dear to the New Englander wherever We do not in this country make half enough he may be, is one of these. The sweet mystery of May. But perhaps the thousand observ- of great antiquity is indeed wanting ; but there ances which have marked its appearance in is enough that breathes of the spirit of the past olden times and in other lands are, as the age in its observance to minister to our natural love becomes more utilitarian, even there dying out. of what our forefathers loved before us. This The ancient Gauls commenced all their great holiday and that of New Year and Christmas military enterprises in this month, so full of are almost our only ones. Why have we not import did it seem to them; and the adventures more festive rites coming down from the far-off of a knight-errant were entered upon on May- past? So much bald reality stifles our fancies day. Everywhere in the early ages, rural and.compels imagination to lie dormant and sports and festivals marked the presence of cold. Everything in these days must have a May, while the Romans sacrificed in its honor. solid mathematical basis of actuality and utilThe May-pole is of Roman origin, and was, ity, and we bid the dreamer who indulges in without doubt, introduced into England with reveries of the imagination, “ go spin !” We many less beautiful symbols, when that people have lost faith in fairies and other “good peo
More than gleams of wing or sail,
Beckon from the sea-mist gray.
Glimpses of immortal youth,
Gleams and glories seen and lost, Far-heard voices sweet with truth,
As the tongues of Pentecost,
ple," and forgotten how our grandmothers paid tribute to the mysterious ghosts which haunted ruined houses. We no longer hear mystic warnings in the creaking of frost-bound timber, or see them in untimely blossoms on the fruit-trees. Alas, for the sweet, childlike dreams that invested the commonest things with the golden hues of romance and vagueness! They are left to simpler ones than we of this wise, intellectual age ; but we doubt in our over-wisdom whether we have not clipped the wings of a very pleasant and lovable angel, and left ber but a poor, moping dowdy for our pains. Well, let it be so ! Yet, like the reformed inebriate, who would take just one more drink, “just to treat resolution,” we beg to lay before ourselves and you one of the sweetest of poems, treading on this forbidden ground,
a gein from the “ Atlantic Monthly,” called
Beauty that eludes our grasp,
Sweetness tbat transcends our taste, Loving hands we may not clasp,
Shining teet that mock our haste,
Gentle eyes we closed below,
Tender voices heard once more, Smile and call us, as they go,
On and onward, still before.
Guided thus, O friend of mine!
Let us walk our little way, Knowing by each beckoning sign
That we are not quite astray.
Sweetest of all childlike dreams
In the simple Indian lore, Still to me the legend seems
Of the elves why flit before.
Chase we still, with baffled feet,
Smiling eye and waving hand, Sought and seeker soon shall meet
Lost and found in Sunset Land,
BEFORE this page is before you, reader mine, June will have glided in with her robes of green and gold, and summer will be at our door. We, however, must for a little turn back to, and make the amende honorable to, & gentle complainant whom we humbly acknowledge to have this once, just this once, a little traduced. We offer our hand in all amity and love, and right gladly enter in our “ Table” the
PROTEST OF APRIL
Having carefully read and duly considered your remarks concerning me in the last number of the “ Repository," I feel moved, in justice to myself, and out of regard to those of your readers who may be misled thereby, to ask that this solemn protest may be duly served
Wistful, longing, through the green
Twilight of the clustered pines, In their faces rarely seen
Beauty more than mortal shines.
Fringed with gold their mantles flow
five of cold weather" to the year (as good or, if that is inconsistent with editorial dig. Baron Steuben characterized it), are ascribed nity, I ask that you permit my protest and deto me as peculiarly and universally mine, I re- fence to be “ entered on the journal ” by your ject the imputation as indignantly as you would printer.
APRIL the imputation of Adam's sin to yourself and Washington, D. C. your beloved off-pring! Am I to blame be- Tho Ladye April has returned her protest to a cause your climate froze over the lakes during not unwilling listener. That she has, in a sort, the winter with unheard-of severity, and thus fairly “ put us down,” we acknowledge ; but chilled their waters and the surrounding air we do most humbly, notwithstanding, venture beyond the power of the sun to warm all
to suggest that, according to her own showing, through the reign of my predecessor, March, she understands only one side of the question ; and even through my own more genial rule? for does she not send up her appeal froni the
Is it my fault that the physical copformation sunny streets of the capital, where, if anyof your Northern lands and lakes, and their where, in these stirring times, she should put vicinage to the source of peculiar Arctic storms on all her most attractive and earliest garniand aerial convulsions, should deluge you with ture ; while we write from the breezy hills of the feet of piled-up snow and depths of frost, so “ North countrie,” with the memory of the that the thermometer went down fır below zero hugest of snow-drifts and the wildest of winds even in the middle of March, rendering it im
to color our picture? In sooth, it is our own possible to overcome, even had I possessed the private opinion that My Ladye April bas laid unvarying fervor of July suns ?
herself out in smiles and fair robes and charmCertainly no, po! And as proof that the ing flowers for the benefit of those who congreblame rests not on me, I refer to my reign gate in that noble centre of our land, quite foralmost everywhere else ; to“ the sunny getting that we claim that her favors should be South,” the broad prairies of the middle West, impartial, and if anything, lean a little towards and this medium region of the East. While you But let us be just. Sbe sent us showers were complaining of the snow-drifts (which whose soft streams woke up the flowers and were not mine, but the accumulations of your leaves of May, and now borear, if not hyperborean, climate during lung winter months), here the hills and the valleys | “To-day the blue-birds trill their gayest song ; were putting on my bright green mantles span- The robins whistle to their young just fluwn ; gled with wild flowers of varied hues. While The soft south wind sighs with a tender tone; your noses were red and blue with damp, biting The crystal brooklets murmur all day long. blasts from your hills and lakes, here similar facial protuberances were inhaling the scents - The stately laurels droop amid their leaves ; of the magnolia and lilac blossoms, and all eyes
The honeysuckle bends its graceful head ; were admiring more beautiful reds and blues
Field strawberries are ripening rich and red, in the hyacinth and tulip. And while the leaf- And gauzy webs tbe treacherous spider weaves." less trees of your wretched climate spoke only of winter's desolation, elsewhere I had pen
While touching the subject of flowers we are danted them with the catkin and the tender tempted to transplant to the ever-receptive leaf, and enwrapped the twigs of the peach and
" Table” an account given us by a friend of the plum with my most beautiful chenille of the love of those fair children of nature which pink and white blossoms. In short, wood and distinguished a good old German Pennsylvania field, garden and even market-place, all through farmer, known by the general cognomen of this properly-behaved and attempered region,-“ Uncle Philip.” And this title stamps his where each season has its own proper share of character. He who is “ uncle's to all the
been given to his farm. But his garden lay gard for flowers than to pluck one so rare es nearest his heart. His monster shapely tufts that shall never own my garden.' of box I have never seen excelled. His dwarf “Apology, persuasion, entreaty, even, all fruit trees stood in circular hedges of box at were vain. He died in possession of his beloved the intersections of the principal garden-walks. garden more than half a century ago. I remember well some large, golden-hued ap- “But Uncle Philip was unfortunate in se ples as they bent down the yard-high trees that lecting the heir who was to possess his garden. bore them. His was the first great flowering the son who inherited the homestead felt comaloe — then sixty years old — I ever saw. A pelled to give more attention to the farm than small tree or large shrub never seen elsewhere, the garden. The clusters of rare plants in the when its leaves were wet with rain or dew, windows were duly attended to by the women. looked like foliage of glittering silver. His They, too, gave what attention they could to pinks and tulips, and other (then) rarities, were grape arbors and to garden. But for want imported for his own use and his neighbors' of a presiding genius, the latter gradually deadroiration. The sweet-scented shrub, Caly- clined, until in a score or two of years it ranked canthus Floridus, whose chocolate-colored only among the better class of common counflowers are now so common in Pennsylvania try gardens. gardens, and whose rich, sweet perfume is un- “ This was sad to all who loved its former gloequalled by any I ever kpew, was first import. ries; for Uncle Philip bad two sons at least who ed by him from Holland, though, strangely were positive if not superlative lovers of flowenough, it is now found to be a native in our ers and beautiful plants. But one was a counown South. It was called Ead-beeren blume try mechanic, whose business compelled him to (strawberry flower), from a resemblance in its limit his garden to a half-acre, and to occupy odor to the scent of ripe strawberries. And much of that with the homely edibles. But many more rich and rare flowers and shrubs, who that ever saw the rest will forget its Deatimported and improved by this plain old Ger- ness and its beauty, and the multitude of his man farmer, yet survive in the gardens of that pet birds! section, and in other sections whither emigri- “The other became a merchant in Litiz, uno tion has carried thein, as mementoes of the old der circumstances that compelled dry. goods, home.
hardware, and groceries to keep the upper hand “But all this only prefaces the strongest evi- in his mind for many years, over all the beaudence I have to adduce of his love for the sweet tiful creations of nature and art. But as soon and the beautiful. He sacrificed for it more as the purse was filled 'blood began to show than time, labor, and occasional expenditures itself' in the largest carnations, the rarest of money.
flowers, and the tallest, biggest, richest “Two wealthy Englishmen in quest of a dahlias, the wonder of passing travellers, and country home visited his neighborhood, and the remembered ne plus ultras in the memories were captivated by Uncle Philip's farm, or, of his neighbors ; for he himself has gone rather, garden and its surroundings. They re- long since to where never-withering fowers solved to purchase. Unole Philip named his bloom in everlasting fragrance and unfading price, and chaffering commenced, to induce him beauty. to take less. Finally, the Englishmen ap- “ Before I close this rambling gossip, permit proached to offers within a few dollars of his me to show in what respect he had not degenprice when dinner was announced. As they erated from the temper of his sire. passed from the garden, the principal guest “A city lady who had children in the celeplucked a rare flower, the only one in the gar- brated Moravian schools of Litiz visited tbe den, if not in the country. A dark cloud crept place, and was delighted with the rare beauty over Uncle Philip's face ; but no remark was and neatness of Uncle Samuel's' garden. She uttered. Dinner despatched with a relish, and called in the store, and mentioning the garden, the bargaining was resumed by the guests. found the affable and pleased proprietor willing But,Uncle Philip bluntly declined selling. to parade his pets before her. After passing
"• What !' said the astonished Englishmen, from rarity to rarity, and beauty to beauty, not sell ! not if we give you your own price?' she said, - probably deeming some tribute to
• No, sir !' said the stern old man, 'not if the utilitarianism of her German conductor you give me my price twice-told. I have made necessary, -'All this is very beautiful indeed ; up my mind that a man who has no more re, but how much more valuable it would be if