The last look on the sweet old face, lit up with a smile so unearthly, I keep with me yet; and when I think of the occurrence of that night, I know that she went out on the other train, that never stopped at the poor-house.
SOME TWENTY YEARS AGO.
It were well worth while to insert this wonderfully beautiful and pathetic selection here to preserve it in enduring type, but it has the additional merit of being a most excellent piece for recitation. The author’s assumed name was “James Pipes, of Pipesville.” His real name you may see below the lines.
I’ve wandered to the village, Tom; I’ve sat beneath the tree
Upon the school house playground that sheltered you and me;
But none were there to greet me, Tom; and few were left to know,
Who played with us upon the green, some twenty years ago.
The grass is just as green, Tom; bare-footed boys at play