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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
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