s
her amazement at the change, giving it as her opinion, that "he was the
handsomest young gentleman she had ever seen."

I went too boldly to work in trying to correct his careless
habits in dress. I formed an idea that it was my duty and my
privilege, not only to attend to my husband's wardrobe, but to direct,
too, how it should be disposed of; but soon found that he was not to be
made to do anything. And, as "straws show which way the wind blows," I
learned, in most things, to influence him by silken cords. He was
willing to be led captive by love and tenderness. Why, when your dear
mamma was not more than four or five years of age, she had learned the
art of making "papa" do as she liked. I remember to have heard her say
once (slyly to one side), "I am going to make papa let me do it." And
when asked "Make papa?" answered, "Yes, the way mamma does;" and
immediately turned to him with her most bewitching little smile, and
said, "Do please, dear papa, let me."

O! what a joyous home we had! And what changes time has made!
The old Wahrendorff house has been rased to the ground, and stores
stand in its place. Where domestic peace and happiness reigned--where
flowers bloomed--where childhood held its sports and holidays, now is
seen the busy mart of this bustling, plodding world. The merry little
magnet of that grass-covered spot is now the mother of four children;
and the beloved father, upon whom her mother fondly hoped to lean, as
she tottered down the hill of life, lies low, at its base.

One of my dear sisters was there seen in her bridals robes, pure
and sweet. But now, she is among the angels (as I humbly trust,)
clothed in the white robe of a Saviour's righteousness. The other
still lives to bless us with her presence and her love.

Our brothers have passed their truant school-boy days--"sowed
their wild oats"--have taken their stand among men, and are realizing
themselves now the blessedness of a home of conjugal and paternal
happiness, and begin to know something of the care and anxiety that has
been felt for them, and of the hopes which stimulate to duty. And
thus, Time, as he passes, leaves foot-prints, which make the children
of to-day the men and women of to-morrow; brings changes which blight
our fondest hopes, crush the heart, and leave us, in our tempest-tossed
bark, to weather awhile longer the storms upon the voyage of life.

But my mind still reverts to this home of my happy married li