large/7245/short_story_053_1212_librivox_64kb_mp3/shortstory053_04_titbottomsspectacles_lja_64kb_54
large/7245/short_story_053_1212_librivox_64kb_mp3/shortstory053_04_titbottomsspectacles_lja_64kb
English
7245
They seem to me very happy along whose gallery the sunlight streams to their very feet, striking all the pictured walls into unfading splendor." THEY SEEM TO ME VERY HAPPY ALONG WHOSE GALLERY THE SUNLIGHT STREAMS TO THEIR VERY FEET STRIKING ALL THE PICTURED WALLS INTO UNFADING SPLENDOR
t was as if his soft dreamy eye had passed into my soul. My grandmother cherished his memory with tender regret. A violent passion of grief for his loss was no more possible than for the pensive decay of the year. "We have no portrait of him, but I see always, when I remember him, that peaceful and luxuriant palm. And I think that to have known one good old man--one man who, through the chances and rubs of a long life, has carried his heart in his hand, like a palm branch, waving all discords into peace, helps our faith in God, in ourselves, and in each other, more than many sermons. I hardly know whether to be grateful to my grandfather for the spectacles; and yet when I remember that it is to them I owe the pleasant image of him which I cherish I seem to myself sadly ungrateful. "Madam," said Titbottom to Prue, solemnly, "my memory is a long and gloomy gallery, and only remotely, at its further end, do I see the glimmer of soft sunshine, and only there are the pleasant pictures hung. ROUGH THE STILL TROPICAL DAY IT WAS AS IF HIS SOFT DREAMY EYE HAD PASSED INTO MY SOUL MY GRANDMOTHER CHERISHED HIS MEMORY WITH TENDER REGRET A VIOLENT PASSION OF GRIEF FOR HIS LOSS WAS NO MORE POSSIBLE THAN FOR THE PENSIVE DECAY OF THE YEAR WE HAVE NO PORTRAIT OF HIM BUT I SEE ALWAYS WHEN I REMEMBER HIM THAT PEACEFUL AND LUXURIANT PALM AND I THINK THAT TO HAVE KNOWN ONE GOOD OLD MAN ONE MAN WHO THROUGH THE CHANCES AND RUBS OF A LONG LIFE HAS CARRIED HIS HEART IN HIS HAND LIKE A PALM BRANCH WAVING ALL DISCORDS INTO PEACE HELPS OUR FAITH IN GOD IN OURSELVES AND IN EACH OTHER MORE THAN MANY SERMONS I HARDLY KNOW WHETHER TO BE GRATEFUL TO MY GRANDFATHER FOR THE SPECTACLES AND YET WHEN I REMEMBER THAT IT IS TO THEM I OWE THE PLEASANT IMAGE OF HIM WHICH I CHERISH I SEEM TO MYSELF SADLY UNGRATEFUL MADAM SAID TIT BOTTOM TO PRUE SOLEMNLY MY MEMORY IS A LONG AND GLOOMY GALLERY AND ONLY REMOTELY AT ITS FURTHER END DO I SEE THE GLIMMER OF SOFT SUNSHINE AND ONLY THERE ARE THE PLEASANT PICTURES HUNG
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