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PUBLISHED 81-WEEKLY.
VOLUME 11.
fjwtttj.
For the Georgia Collegian.
To Lucy,
When soft the moon is shining
Down from the summer sky,
And Southern pines are sighing
From zephyrs moving by;
Like chimes of music pealing
O'er waters of the sea ;
Then o’er my heart come stealing
Sweet memories of thee.
No joys like those resemble
Spent in my College days,
When o’er my heart did tremble
Love’s softest dawning rays.
’Twas then thy spirit guiding,
Taught mine to live and be ;
And now come o’er me gliding
Sweet memories of thee.
I know no joy excelling,
E’en when I’m full of glee;
And thoughts are fondly dwelling
On ’morrows bright and free;
Than on the past while gazing
As on a dark, wide sea,
Te hear the wave-notes raising
Sweet memories of thee.
Fragrance from roses faded,
Still lingers ’round their tomb;
And joys with thee once tasted—
To die is not their doom.
And thus ’round me will hover
In sadness or in glee;
Till life’s full course is over,
Sweet memories of thee.
Sept. 27, 1870. Hubert.
For the Geongia Collegian.
RESIGNATION.
BY MARION.
CHAP. I.
In the most populous portion of
County, Geo., stands a small,
ivy-clad cottage, whose humble, yet
tasteful surroundings win admiration
from every passing eye.
Winding up the avenue of slender
poplars, and entering the rustic gate,
the beauty around draws the heart
“rom nature up to nature’s God
This garden is a little Eden of love
and beauty; ’tis here the sweetest
violets open their soft, blue eyes;
here the purest lilies roar their state
ly heads; and hero the finest flower
ets of Spring whisper a promise of
the bright days which are coming.—
Cross the vine-wreathed threshold—
the same attractive taste presides in
the cottage ; the spotless, bar-e floors;
the cool muslin curtains; the simple
furniture; all tell the story of a con
tented spirit, even in “ poverty’s
vale.” Orderly arrangement, scru
pulous neatness, and the small, but
well selected library, teach that reli
gion, refinement and intelligence
dwell in that humble home. This is
only a woman’s little kingdom, but
at the bidding of the gentle queen,
her handmaidens, love, beauty and
CLIMBING THE HEIGHTS.
ATHENS, GEORGIA, OCT. 15,1870.
order, have made a homo which a
king might envy.
We have been thus particular in
describing the dwelling of Mrs.
Moore, that the reader may obtain,
in advance, some knowledge of that
lady’s character ; and also to give an
index—as good as he can be found in
the anpearanco of a home—of her
motherly care of everything. With
such knowledge of the mother, we
can certainly form some idea of what
the child will be; for from early in
fluences, man imbibes the traits of
character which he evinces in after
life.
At noon Mrs. Moore is sitting by a
small table sewing. Her face wears
a ead expression ; yet you are im
pressed that with this sadness there
is mingled a Christian resignation.—
She occasionally raises her eye3 to*
ward her little daughter, who is pro
paring dinner. When the meal is
announced ready, the mother lays
aside her work to meet her two sons,
just entering the open hall. She
smiles with delight; and when we
know more of the boys, we cannot
wonder at the mother’s pride soon in
the fond look. Walter and Eobert,
are their names. How low and sweet
are the tones of the mother as she
utters the names of her sons ! Their
happy faces indicate at once, health,
hope and affection. Since early
dawn, they have been laboring in the
farm ; yet they do not seem fatigued,
as they are now seated at the table,
and, by their cheerful conversation,
give relish to the simple meal.
Often, as Mrs. Moore gazed fondly
on the noble features of Walter, her
eyes would involuntarily fill with
tears. His pure, unruffled brow
his dark eyes, so full of tenderness,
and his whole face, so near the image
of another, would remind her of the
“ long ago.” ’Twas a little more
than twenty years, since Mr. Moore
made his first passionate avowals of
love, and he was just nineteen—Wal
ter’s age now—when she gave him
her “ hand with her heart.” Her
husband was now sleeping in the cold
embrace of the grave, and his impress
on her child would cause her to re-,
vert to those happy days of yore.
The father of Mrs. Moore, was a
man of humble means; but she, being
the only child, possessed advantages
superior to daughters of many weal
thier farmers. Her education was
thorough, and her mind was early
moulded to receive the principles of
religion. She grew up loving and
being loved. So Mr. Moore fully re
alized his expectations; nor did he
ever regret taking to his heart and
home, the gentle Amie Lee. Their
married life was indeed happy. The
gentleness of the wife well accorded
with the devoted attachment of the
husband; and the ever opening of
heart to heart made them insepara
bly one.
Nothing occurred.to mar the haps
piness of their Eden like homo, until
their third child was born. The ten
der infant had scarcely opened its
eyes ere the Grim Monster snatched
it from the mother’s breast. There
were no murmuring words, but the
hollow eye and the pale -cheek of
Mrs. Moore told how deeply she felt
the unexpected stroke. Just twelve
months more had passed away, when
another little daughter came to cheer
the mother’s stricken heart. The
eyes of the fond father, as he held the
little darling in his arms, expressed
much joy ; and the brothers grew en<-
thusiastic in their expressions of wel
come to the sister. Little Nora (that
was the name of the babe,) soon be
came the pet of the household, win
ning, by her sweet disposition, the
affection of all. She made the home
perfec.’j happy again, and ’twas not
until after her tenth birth day, that
the severe illness of her father dark
ened the future hopes of the family.
Mr. Moore was suddenly seized by a
malignant fever; and with the most
skillful physicians in attendance, and
the nursing of the best of wives, he
gradually sunk. Day after day the
agonized wife watched over him, on
ly to see the eyes that never mot hers
but with love, close at last in death
None but she who has been similarly
afflicted, can estimate the heart
wringing sorrow of Mrs. Moore at
this trying hour—as she wipes away
the cold dew of death, which is gath
ering on his brow and moistens the
icy hand with her tears, sho knows
she is soon to be widowed of his
earthly affection.
For days, sho yielded to despair,
and wildly prayed that'she might be
laid in the grave with her husband
The children felt, as keenly as chil
dren can, the death of their father;
and Walter, the oldest, in hushing
his own murmurs, endeavored to
comfort his mother. One day, after
she had given vent to the grief of her
almost bursting heart, he came to her
anh putting his arm affectionately
around her neck, kissed away the
burning tear, and said,
“ Dear mother, you have Nora,
Hubert, and myself still to lovo you;
don’t yield to such wild grief. What
would wo do without your love and
care? Nora thinks you too are go
ing to die, and is inconsolablo.”
TERMS---$2.50 PER ANNUM.
NUMBER 5.
It seemed that Mrs. Moore, in her
unabated mourning for her lost hus
band, had forgotten her duty to her
children. Walter’s touching appeal,
therefore, seemed to arouse her, and
she replied sadly, 11 1 have my son,
been too sefflsh in the indulgence of
my grief, but will now cheer up. You
remind me truly that I have much to
live for.”
Several weeks after the death of
Mr. Muore, his friend, Mr. Head, to
whose charge he committed his finan
cial affairs, came to assume the
charge thus imposed upon him. Ass
ter a careful examination of Mr.
Moore’s papers, he told Mrs. Moore,
as gently as he could, that her hus
band’s property would be barely suf
ficient to pay his debts and buy an
humble homo for herself and chil
dren. Tears rolled down the cheeks
of the kind hearted man as he added,
“ I will assist yon all I can ; don’t
be troubled while there is such a pro
mise as ‘ The righteous shall never
be forsaken, ner his seed beg for
bread.’ ”
Mrs Moore murmured her thanks,
and wept bitterly. The future,
fraught with unaccustomed toil and
privations, came, crowding into her
mind such thoughts as these—“ We
will bo sorely tried ; my children and
myself will have to labor hard for a
support ; then, they must bo educa
ted, and how, God only knows. Wal
ter is now sixteen, and it will soon
be beyond my power to instruct him.”
As she uttered the last, Mr. Head
kindly proffered to assist Walter in
prosecuting his studies.
Walter and Eobert entered the
room at this moment, and seeing
their mother's tears, asked what was
the matter. Putting her arm around
each of her boys, she told them of
the loss of property and of her fears
for the future.
4 Mother,” said Walter, “ don’t cry
any more, wo will work hard ; and
then” — The boy’s eyes filled with
tears, and ho could, with difficulty
utter what he would saj T —“it is hard
to leave this dear old homo, associa
ted as it is with so many fond mem
ories ; but we can he happy in an
humbler one. Be cheerful then, dear
mother; lean on me; I am strong;
and my lovo for you can’t he ex~
pressed. Let mo see your face wear
its accustomed smile ; it dees not 100 k
like vours, so clouded with sorrow.”
The assuring tones of the noble boy
caused her sad heart to trust, at and
participate in his hopes. She began
t,o prepare for the sale of her hus
band’s effects. Everything was as-i
sociated with the happiness of the