The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Long Ago, by Jacob William Wright
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: The Long Ago
Author: Jacob William Wright
Posting Date: September 4, 2009 [EBook #4757]
Release Date: December, 2003
First Posted: March 12, 2002
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LONG AGO ***
Produced by David A. Schwan. HTML version by Al Haines.
The Long Ago
by Jacob William Wright
1 The Garden
2 The River
3 Christmas
4 Butter, Eggs, Ducks, Geese
5 The Sugar Barrels
6 Jimmy, the Lamplighter
7 Flies
8 The Autumn Leaves
9 Getting in the Wood
10 The Rain
11 Grandmother
12 When Day is Done
Then said he unto me,
Go thy way,
Weigh me the weight of the fire,
Or measure me the blast of the wind,
Or call me again the day that is past.
II Esdras IV:5
The day is done, and yet we linger here at the window of the private
office, alone, in the early evening. Street sounds come surging up to
us--the hoarse Voice of the City--a confused blur of noise--clanging
trolley-cars, rumbling wagons, and familiar cries--all the varied
commotion of the home-going hour when the city's buildings are pouring
forth their human tide of laborers into the clogged arteries.
We lean against the window-frame, looking across and beyond the myriad
roofs, and listening. The world-weariness has touched our temples with
gray, and the heaviness of the day's concerns and tumult presses in,
presses in .... presses in ....
Yet as we look into the gentle twilight, the throbbing street below
slowly changes to a winding country road .... the tall buildings fade
in the sunset glow until they become only huge elm-trees overtopping a
dusty lane .... the trolley-bells are softened so that they are but the
distant tinkle of the homeward herd on the hills .... and you and I in
matchless freedom are once more trudging the Old Dear Road side by
side, answering the call of the wondrous Voice of Boyhood sounding
through the years.
The Garden
It was the spirit of the garden that crept into my boy-heart and left
its fragrance, to endure through the years. W
|