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OLIVE BUDS.
my own grandmother, sitting down at her feet, when the lamps were just lighted. Then, she would tell me of the wars she had witnessed, and charge me never to take part, in the sins and miseries that they produce. How clearly can I recollect that excellent woman. Her hair was like silver, but her eyes were black and brilliant. My brethren and sisters treated her with the greatest respect. We considered her as a being of a superior order. Her instructions to us, were always those of piety and peace. Her stories were of the old times that were before us, and her memory of her early years, continued strong to extreme old age."
"Dear grandfather, it is of those very