o let others know it! Yes--the cawing crows have been company
for me in many a solitary ramble; and whenever I hear them, I inwardly
pay my respects to them. All these, and other familiar sights and
sounds, did I richly enjoy at the old cottage in the woods.
I loved to sit at the shed-door, and watch my grandfather at his slow
work; for he had been a mechanic in his day, and was able to do a little
very moderately at his trade now. He would tell me the history of the
old people in the neighborhood, and of the customs and fashions when
they were boys and girls; and my eyes and ears were open to hear him. I
used to wish I could see them just as they looked when they were
children. It was very difficult then for me to imagine how those who
had become so wrinkled could ever have had the smooth faces of infants
and children. But my grandfather could remember when he was a boy; and
his father had told him what things were done when he, too, was a boy.
And so I concluded that wrinkles were no disgrace, nor the fairest faces
of the young any protection against them.
My grandmother was very fond of me, and took great pleasure in having me
read to her, as her eyesight had become somewhat dim. And so I used to
load myself with story-books and newspapers, when I became older, to
carry and read to her. And such times as we had with them! Voyages,
travels, discoveries, adventures, perils,--the wonders of the world, the
wonders of science, the wonders of history,--all came in for their share
of reading. Though I should read myself tired and sleepy, my grandmother
would still be an interested listener. Since I have been a minister, I
have often wished that many hearers would as eagerly listen to what I
had to say especially to them, as did my aged grandmother to my young
words then.
Those sunny days have departed. The old cottage is not there now. Years
ago it was taken down. My grandfather died when I was yet a boy, and I
followed him to the grave with a heavy heart. My grandmother lived to
be almost a hundred years old,--her powers all gone, and she helpless.
It would sometimes, even in my manhood, deeply affect me to have her
look into my face with no sign in hers that she knew me, when she had
once loved her talkative and delighted grandchild so fondly. But she,
too, found her resting-place at last beside her companion. Peace to
them! They blest me with their kindly, cheering words when most I needed
them, and I will bless the
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