Rocks and Roses; Or, Phases of Life

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1877. Excerpt: ... ROCKS AND ROSES. CHAPTER I. SHIPWRECK. NE hot June day a middle-aged man and his son walked hand in hand through a churchyard about three leagues from New York. The boy was about nine years old, his bright animated face suffused with every sign of health and vigour, plainly showing that everything that could conduce to his comfort and happiness had been lavished upon him. None of the marks of the harsh world were discernable upon his sunny countenance which may so often be seen upon the faces of ill-fed, sickly children in our large towns. Thus far his life had been not unlike that of the butterfly, which flutters amid sweet roses on a summer day! As he walked by his father's side a gleam of mischief now and again was apparent in his beautiful eyes. Very few boys in passing through a churchyard go direct along the beaten path. They generally select a circuitous route, and vary a walk which would be, in most instances too monotonous, by jumping over grave stones and moss-grown mounds, as if those memorials had been set up, not so much to sacredly mark the resting places of departed souls as for the purpose of athletic sports. Evidently little Arthur Dibit (or Arty as he was usually called) looked upon tomb-stones from this stand-point, for no sooner had his father turned aside to look upon a portion of the quaint old church for a moment when he made a bound over an infant's grave, and went rolling over into the long dry grass. For a while his father heeded him not, but stood reverentially gazing upon the edifice as if listening to a sermon from its rugged walls. Truly none but the reverential soul can ever hear sweet angels speaking through the masonry of the house of God! Lofty is the hearing of him who can catch a sermon from pillars of stone; noble and ...