Description: |
THE NORMAL ADVANCE91again the old days. Out in the open, under the
spell of those stirring experiences, retold in low,
quivering accents, I shiver slightly and am wont
to glance nervously over my shoulder, almost
fancying I can make out on the uncertain sky line
of the hill tops, the lurking French infantry or
can catch the sharper profile of a body of their
horsemen.The last time I visited him at his cottage, he
did something that he had never done before.
From his bed room he brought a brightly polished
saber, which fitted into a musty, worn leather
sheath. From a small, square trinket box heproduced a pair of jagged spurs. Then I was al¬
lowed to gaze on a heavy, old-fashioned, short
carbine, such as the Prussian cavalryman used to
carry, slung from a cord, over his shoulder. From
a chest, in which it had been carefully folded
away, he drew a faded, blue uniform, in which he
used to appear in dress parade beyond the seas.
On his snowy hair he placed a leather-visaged,
blue cap, decorated with a bronze eagle, and fail¬
ing to look fierce and warlike again, he slapped
his thigh and exclaimed as of yore, 0 Yunge,
Yunge, but dose vas days.WINTER.Blest winter nights, when as the genial fire
Cheers the wide hall, his cordial family,
With soft domestic arts, the hours beguile,
And pleasing talk, that starts no timrous fame,
With witless wantonness to hunt it down Or through the fairy-land of tale or song Delighted wander, in fictitious fates Engaged, and all that strikes humanity, Till lost in fable they, the stealing hour Of timely rest forget. Sometimes, at eve, His neighbors lift the latch, and bless unbid His festal roof while oer the light repast, And sprightly cups, they mix in social joy And through the maze of conversation trace Whateer amuses or improves the mind.—Armstrong. |
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Source: |
http://indstate.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/isuarchive/id/32539 |
Collection: |
Indiana State University Archives |
Further information on this record can be found at its source.