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About The west shore. (Portland, Or.) 1875-1891 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 1, 1884)
64 THE WEST SHOBE. anything about u more earnest than that same thought Ta HmrA nnvthinr? more real more charac- Bllll BHW1I.MII ....... - tcrmtio of that great and dim destiny to which we are II1U UII1I inow.j w . - - - be written down in that terrible born, and which may word -forever , . 1A iktm who will, thon, pneor at what m their wisdom they call untruth at what is false, because it has no ma terial presence; this does not create fulsity; would to Heaven that it did! And yot, if there was actual, material truth, super added to Reverie, would such objectors sympathize the more? No, a thousand times, no; the heart that has no sympathy with thoughts and feolings that scorch the soul is (lead also whatever its mocking tears and gestures may say to a coflin or a grave! Let them pass and we will come back to these cher ished letters. A mother who Las lost a child has, she says, shed a tear not ono, but many over the dead boy's coldness. And another, who has not lost, but who trombles lest she lose, has found the words failing as she read, and a dim, gorrow-borne mist spreading over the page. Another, yet rejoicing in all those family ties that mako life a charm, has listened nervously to careful read ing, until the husband is callod homo and the coflin is in the houso. "Stop!" she says; and a gush of tears tells the rest Yet the cold critio will say, " It was artfully done-" A curso on him! it was not art; it was nature. Another, a young, fresh, healthful girl-mind, has seen something hi the lovo-pietnro-alboit so weak of truth and has kindly bolievod that it must be earnest Aye indeed is it, fair and generous ono, earnest as life and fanpel ho, lndeod, with a heart at all, that has not vet slipped away irreparably and forever from the shores of youth-from that fairy land which young enthusiasm creaks and over which bright dreams hover-but knows 1 ,1 , iTl n?d 4?,.BUch thi"B9 wil1 bo rel till hopes we dashed and Death is come. F Another, a father has laid down the book in tears. God bless them all! How far bettor this than the cold raio of newspaper paragraphs or the critically con tmed approval of colder friends! y " Lot mo gather up those letters carefully, to be read when ho heart is faint and sick of all that thesis unreal tomyfirHt Reverie, which h added to such An'l0to my 8,.oon,i Reverie. thoao other uS-li " """t-how different from ny boeve. lfl j8 futtih!I1B?tlunin4pin, and how turning out ,,,lw'g, ond how the potatoes are Hut I am i Rllrrt of the citv P, look over a nia. of crowdcnl 1 ' wm mv UW I UIH.D U,e l)U X, r;Vlm-",(,,ru'izig often -t down herV ij "Jv 8 ul sombre to be 0Clt of tue evening. The fire has been newly made, perhaps an hour before; first tlia mm'il rlrnnB ft withe nf nnnor in th Vrv 'i 11 ju.u. 1 - jrx "vvium oi 116 grate, then a stick or two of pine-wood, and after it a hod of Liverpool coal; so that by the time I am seated for ii i ; :i : l" evening uwi BtJii-uuiu la lamy iu a uiant). When this has sunk to a level wiii the second bar of the grate, the maid replenishes it with a hod of anthra cite; and I sit musing and reading, while the new coal worms nnd kindles: not leftvintr mv rlna r,;i :i i. ...... ... o j uum xb uqs sunk to the third bar of the grate, which marks my bed time. I love these accidental measures of the hours, which beloncr to vou and vour life, and tint tn tha o) i - i ' v.J itvixu J watch is no more the measure of your time than of the time or your neignDors; a cnurch clock is as public and vulcrar as a church-warden. I would hiring the parish sexton to make my bed as to regulate my u m b oy me piu isu ciocx. . - A shadow that the sun casts upon your carpet, or a streak of liffht on a slated ronf vnnHAr nr tva k O U , wuvr wiAUAllg Ul your fire, are pleasant time-keepers, full of presence, iuii oi companionsnip ana lull ot tne warning time is passing! . In the summer season I have even measured my read ing and my night-watch by the burning of a taper; and I have scratched upon the handle to the little bronze taper holder that meaning Dassacre of the New TWamnnftu night cometh! But I must get upon my Eeverie. It was a drizzly evening; I had worked hard I 111 vuj UUU 11W4 drawn my boots, thrust my feet into slippers, thrown on a Turkish loose dress and Greek cap, souvenirs to me of other times and other places, and sat watching the lively, jvnuir pitijr ui ijjo uiiuininous name. SEA-COAL. It is like a flirt colored, waving here and there, melting the coal into black, shapeless mass: mntinw ftinl pnsty trashy residuum! Yet withal, pleasantly spark- uunciiig, prettily waving, and leaping like a roebuck How like a flirt.! Anrl ia oi girlhood, to which I liken mv sea-coal flame, a native )lay of life, ana belonging by nature to the play-time of iiier Is it tint, a nnvt f onnn:j c i.:3i: i 4.1,. weightier and tmer i' n , 11 1 uuu0) OTDU US V C1U1 V UUtO bUO DUJ. coal fai-st, the better to kindle the anthracite Is it not a a 'l- "Bcessary consumption of young vapors, which float in tliA onnl a 1. iT . , ' 0 j ,. wiuuu is leu tnereaner tne purerr la there not a RtnaA omnimi,im ' ti, fn just such waving, idle heart-blaze, which means nothing, VAt Trill nil Muiuu luuHi ue got over r moreof nrti?eir8ayS s.omewhere vei7 prettily, that there ia i 1 , op auu iiouting snaae in a young tree but more of fire in the heart of a sturdy oak: "Hi drAL8i,amarti yinB off his prettiness of expression, SnsHhf Tlth. hi8 Poetry-makbg a good conscience ffitftS 80me aCCU8ing Ga-r i9 baohfiW11 Wb ha9Been sixty years, whether widower or feeds fe77,e11 Put m& sentiment into words; it of vot nted Leartwith hope; it renews the exultation charm i f uPleTntest of equivocation and the most SnoUll1SeLf,nfidence- B& after all,is it nottme? DOt tUe Leart like new blossoming field plants, whose