THE WIND.
H A T oan tha win« 1» looking* 1
for tha weary world «round?
What did U lose thou« year?
ago that It It«« never found? I
I I eeeke II through the summer I
tin». Sometimes you see It
MUM
Bo silently and alaallhlly It baraly bonds
the ■■ ass
I t tiptoes I? Ill« willow Ireea that stand
beside the brook.
Then races to I ho orchard Just Io have
another look.
W
a
T H E EASTER PARADE.
ja N echoing drift of organ roll«
Through gothic churchly arehea
{ \
Where saints In marble aureoles
x X Smile as tbe column marches.
This Is what the Medford Mall Tribune
r M to w
about rottennejs In jaefceen
Freeh from the flower hung chancel rail
r'omea scant of springtime's greening.
Gathered In valley and In data
To wldsper April's meaning.
county politic«:
Across the sky tke steeples chime
A message Of rejoicing.
Sounding the song of Eastertlaw.
Our heart's new gladness voicing.
I t searches up and down tbs hilts and .
searches on >he plain
▲ad runs all a>. <rly akin* among the
drops ef rain
I t roams the long rnlleo of the son and
dings aside lbs spray
Aa though II bad no tlma to pause and
must not atop nor stay.
And then It circles fast and fa r arrose the
ert sands
pe In pagan palaces In alt the 1
€
Blossom, ys flowers! Chime on, ya bells!
Bing out your chant ef glory
TUI every ptnk and pansy telle
Once more the sweet old story!
Delates and daffodils devout.
Gather your fragrance nearer.
Leave not a bird or bluebell oat
That makes the music clearer.
And down the stately avenue.
City scarred eons and daughters!
Forward, our souls! In proud review
W e walk beskte still waters!
then lands.
I t hurries down the olty street. It loape
across the lanes.
I t loiters near the eottage, and It shakes
the window panes
|t shouts along the mountain side and
sways the mighty pines.
I t sweeps aboys the autumn lands and |
lifts the withered vines.
T«t never, never has It found, wherever j
II may go.
The thing It must have lost one day >
a-maay years ago.
-K a t e Masterson.
D O N 'T .
K fA U D E doesn't Uke me any more;
■ " I find her growing colder.
She asked me to tell her my candid opin
ion of the Christmas present she was
making for me, and
I told bar.
T A N K has no further use for ma;
No more ray a m i enfold her.
She requested me to tell her of any little
mistakes she might make at bridge
whist, and
I told her.
And now tonight It has returned to moan
and sob and sigh.
To peer among the forest trees whose
naked arms lift high.
I t rumbles In the chimney, and It rattles
at the door
I wonder what It lost and now can never
find once more.
to on It goes by north and aouth and on
by east and west
U k e some lost soul that Journeys out
upon an endless quest.
—Chicago Post.
XTOUNO man. If you have a nice girt.
A town or country dweller.
And she asks you to tell her your real
opinion about this or that proposi
tion. why.
Don't tell her.
—Pittsburgh Poet.
A W IN T E R DAY.
yonder lonsly tree s sunbeam lias.
Touching each gray lined branch with
brush of gold.
And others slanting from the far. fair
skies
Bring lander tempering of winter's cold I
S ay a i t ’a a ll righ t
BLACK SHEEP.
I J
| \
■ J
"One Is for the mother who prays for me
at night,
A gift of broken promises to count by
candlelight.
T V t T H sweetest songs It gleaned awhile i
* ’
ago
In distant lands of Jessamine and rose,
A southern breese strays past a drift of
snow,
Wafting a breath of summer as It goes
"One la for tbe triad friend who raised
me when I fall.
A gift of weakling's tinsel oaths that
strew the path to hell.
N the warm shelter 'naath the hedge ruw
here.
Where bitter froets as yet have left no
traoe.
H a lf bidden In the shadows dim and drear,
A dandelion lifts a smiling face
-M a r y lx>rd
I
"And one is for the true love, the heav
iest of all.
That holds the pieces of a faith a careless
hand let faS."
"Black sheep, black sheep.
Have you aught to say?"
"A word to each, my master.
Ere I go my way.
SPRING IS COMING.
“A word unto my mother to bid her think
o' me
Only as a little lad playing at her knke.
Spring la coming, with mild sephyrs
Singing through the reeds;
Spring la coming, with blithe heifers
Hklpglbi« o'er the meads.
"A word unto my tried friend to bid him
see again
Two laughing lads In springtime a-rac'^g
down the glen.
Spring Is coming with Its showers
And the bursting bud;
spring la coming with Its flowers
And Its ecus of mud.
Spring Is coming Why be tearful
Ur let courage die?
Spring la coming. Let's be cheerful—
Or at least let's try.
—8. E Kiser.
“W H A T IS A B U N G A L O W ?"
H E N Horace sipped Falcrnlan
wine
W
Of noble KcneHhwy
And listened to the tri!In divine
Of lively lovely Lnlags
Tie raxed upon hls ben ns and bees.
Hix parsley ntandlnr In a row,
>11« tall, umbraseoux, whlxp'rlnr trees.
From Just a alaxxle bungalow.
When In the heart of Walden wood.
Without a worry for tomorrow.
Resided that aesthetic. rood.
Eccentric Yankee. Henry Thoreau.
What kind of house he happed to have
Ha was not curious to know*,
And yet his cottage, creetier clad.
Waa but a modern bungalow.
»
From these examples, which may do.
You draw. I hope, the right conclusion—
The current word Is somewhat new;
The thing Itself In no delusion—
But please remember. If you can,
lief ore you tackle hook and hoe
That much depend« on place and man
To make "what la a bungalow."
STORM —Xenophon
LIGHT. Brown.
FpH F thick battalions of the rain
’ Tramp on the misty hillsides dimly.
1 see along tho sullen plain
Phantoms of nightfall gather grimly.
1 > U T from the gateway of the west
There comes a flood of gold outflow
ing
That lights the passing sen bird's breast
And gilds the hilltop* with Its glowing.
rock and tree and glassy »Inde
Flashes the swift, transfiguring
brightness.
While lingering rainbow fragments fade
On leaden skies that clear to whiteness.
ON
t p iIE N comes the closing of the gate—
A The flame of glory falls to nshee;
The far and near are desolate
With clouds that wrap and rain that
lashes.
—London Evening Standard.
S P L IT IN T W A IN .
« I ’V E broken his heart In a dreadful
way."
Raid the girl that he hadn’t won.
••Yea, In half,” said her friend. "You see
him today
W ith two girls nt dinner, not one!”
—Selected.
W A G O N 9.
H, the big band wagon where the mu
sic plays
And the candidates assemble with their
songs of praise.
Where they shout till midnight and they
start at d aw n -
just wait a minute, driver, till we all
climb on!
O
f AH, the water wagon with Its style so
”
neat!
Hoorn for everybody on a nlco front seat.
Where wo all feel thankful 'causo the
headache’s gone—
Walt a minute, drives, till we all climb on!
this old Ice wagon that 1s trying to
B U T keep
The road blockaded where the snow piles
deep
While the north wind's h,owin’ with a
wheeze and a cough—
Holst the warm wave signal till we all
get off!
—Washington Star.
LACK sheep, black sheep,
Have you any wool?"
"That I have, my master—
Three bags full.
IN T H E W IL D M A R C H M O R N
IN G .
All In the wild March morning I
heard the angels m il.
It was when the moon was setting
and the dark was over «11.
The tries began to whisper, snd the
wind began Io roti.
And In the wild March morning I
heard them call my soul.
1 thought It was a fancy, and I
listened In my bed.
And then did something speak to
me I know not what was said.
For great delight and shuddering
tool! hold of all my mind.
And up tho valley came again the
music on the wind.
—Tennyson. "The May Queen."
G R Ic F .
Time core« our ,-riefit.—Latin
Proverb.
He conquer!« grief who can
take n flrtn resolution.—Ooethc.
Every one can master a grief
but he that l i a s It.—Shukeepenre.
She grieves sincerely who
grieves when unseen.— Martial.
Koine of your grief you have
cured.
And the sharpest you still have
sun lved.
But what torments of pain yon
endured
Front evils that never arrived!
— Emerson.
H O U S E C L E A N IN G DA Y .
H IN G S about the house today
Are not Just ns they were
T
A week or so ago, because
The furniture s «stir.
The sofa's plied with bric-a-brac,
My easy chair Is where
The dining table used to be,
Anil all tho floors are bare.
My footsteps echo through the halls,
A deep, sepulchral sound.
The books I used to love to read
Are nowhere to he found;
The pictures that adorned the walls
Adorn tho walla no more;
The clock has left the mantel and
Is ticking on the floor;
The beds thnt yesterday were where
All decent beds should be
Havo been removed, so I am told,
For snke of purity.
The smell of varnish's In the air.
And In her eager search
For germs and Hies and things like these
From off Its lofty perrh
The lady of the house has knocked
The cooing ilove of peace
And given unto happiness
An nbsoPitn reloase.
I sat me down today to dine
Close by the kitchen range
Mid pots nnd puns and other things
Equally es strange
To one who'll never learned to cook
Or do a scullion’s work
And ate such odds anil ends of food
As In all Inrders lurk.
I hope that somo time I shall live
Forever and for aye
Where time Is never marked by w*-at
We oall housecleaning day.
RECALL
O F JU D G ES .
A sovereign people which de
clares that all men have certain
luallenable rights ntnl Impose«
upon Itself the great Impersonal
rules of conduct deemed ueces-
sary for the preservation of
those rights and at the same
time declares that It will disre
gard those rules whenever, in
any particular case. It Is the
wish of a majority of Its voters
to do so establishes as complete
a contradiction to the fundamen
tal principle« of our government
as It Is possible to conceive, it
abandons absolutely the concep
tion of a Justice which is ttliove
majorities, of a right In the weak
which the strong t i r e bound to
respect. It denies the vital truth
taught by religion nnd realized
In the hard experience of man
kind and which has inspired ev
ery constitution America has pro-
duted and every great declara
tion for human freedom since
Magna Chart a— the truth thnt
human nature needs to distrust
Its own Impulses and passions
and to establish *or Its own con
trol the restraining gnd guiding
Influence of declared principles
of action.—Ellbu Root
T O A D V IS E IM M IG R A N T S .
Information acould be collect
ed from public and private
sources In regard to the sections
of the country where Immigrants
are really needed, wages, occu
ltations. etc. This information
should be supplied to tbe proper
authorities In foreign countries,
Tbe Immigrants should then be
required Io choose their destina
tion In this country before leav
ing home. In accordance with
this pluu tbe present contract
labor clause of tbe immigration
law should be abolished. Pub
lic boards and private employers
should be encouraged and assist
ed io make contracts with immi
grants. This would do away
with the present absurd assump
tion that the best immigrant is
the one who knows nothing
about what be Is going to do in
this country, would encourage
Immigrants to study conditions
In this country before emigrating
and would give those who are
prudent enough to wish some as
surance of employment In their
new home a chance to secure It
legally, ns they now do illegally.
-Professor H. B. Fairchild of
Yale.
T H E O LD S E X T O N .
IG H tc a grave that was newly
made
B E T T E R T H IN G S .
Better to feel a love within
Than to be lonely to tho sight;
Better a homely tenderness
Than beauty's wild delight.
Better to love than to bo loved
Though lonely all the day;
Better the fountain In tho heart
Than the fountain by the way.
Better to be a little wise
Thnn learned overmuch;
Better than high are lowly thoughts.
Fur truthful thoughts are such.
Better to have a quiet grief
Than a tumultuous Joy;
Better thnn manhood, age’s face.
I f the heart be of a boy.
Better n death
Than earth's
Better a child
Than the king
when work Is done
most favored birth;
In God's great house
of all the earth.
—George McDonald.
FOR BEARANC E.
T TA S T thou named all the birds without
n gun.
Loved the wood rose and left It on Its
stalk,
A t rich men's tables eaten bread and
pulse,
Unarmed faced danger with a heart of
trust
And loved to well a high behavior
In man or maid that thou from speech
refrained.
Nobility more nobly to repay?
Oh, be my friend and teach me to be
—Ralph Waldo Emerson.
N
Leaned a sexton old on his earth
worn apade.
His work was done, and he paused
to wait
"A word unto my true love, a single
word—to pray.
I f one day I cross her path, to turn her
eyes away.”
—Theodosia Garrison in Everybody's Mag
azine.
FR O M T H A N A T 0 P S I8 .
So live, that when thy summons
comes to join
The Innumerable caravan that
moves
To that mysterious realm where
each shall take
His chamber In the silent halls of
death
Thou go not, like the quarry «lave
at night.
Scourged to hls dungeon, but. sus
tained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach
thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapery of
hls couch
About him, and lies down to pleas
ant dreams.
—Bryant.
E A S T E R CA R O L.
List to the carol sweet
Angels and saints repeat!
Low at tbe Saviour’s feet
Humbly they bow.
Conquering Hero, he;
Trophies from land and sea.
Garlands from Bethany,
Crown his fair brow.
Potent the mighty arm.
Subtle the mystic charm.
Fear and distrust disarm.
Tis Christ, the King!
Welcome him home today!
Victorious warrior? Aye,
Late from the bloody fray!
Easter hello ring!
NO IM P R O V E M E N T S .
fP H O U G II motorcars change yearly
In engine or In frame.
The water wagon model
Remains about the same.
—Selected.
Strike thou tbe major chord.
Rise thou in triumph. Lord.
Ring out with one accord
The glad sweet sound!
"Back to my home above.
Back to my Father's love,
Fly. white winged peaceful dove.
The world around!"
—M artha J. Ople.
A VO W .
M A Y not ever scale the mountain
heights
I
A K N IG H T IN B A B Y L O N .
T H E R E dwelt a knight In Babylon.
-*■ Ijid y . lady.
As brave as ever battle won.
Lady, lady, lady, lady;
As brave as ever battle won.
But now he's dead and past and gone.
The earth his sad, sad heart upon.
Oh. lady, lady, lady, lady!
Where all the great men stand tn
glory now.
I may not ever gain the world's de
light«
Or win a wreath of laurel for my brow,
I may not gain the victories that men
Are fighting for nor do a thing to boast
of.
I may not get a fortune here, but then
The little that I have I II make the most
I'll make
ef. my little home a palace fine.
My little patch of green a garden fair.
And I shall know each humble plant and
vine
As rich men know their orchid blossoms
rare.
My little home may not be much to see.
Its chimneys may not tower fa r above.
But it will be a mansion great to me.
For out of It I'll take a hoard of love.
r p ilE R E dwelt a maid in Babylon.
-*■ Lady. lady.
As fa ir as ever sun shone on.
Lady, lady. lady, lady;
Aa fair as ever sun shone on.
But she that brave knight's heart had
won
And broken, as all maids have done.
Oh, lady. lady, lady, lady!
OO late she pined In woeful hour.
Lady, lady.
T
And rued In grief her wasted power.
The funeral train at the open gate.
I will not pass my modest pleasures by
A relic of bygone days was he.
To grasp at shadows of more splendid
And 1.1a locks were white as the foamy
things.
sea,
Disdaining
what of joyousness is nigh
And these words came from his lips so
I Because I am denied the joy of kings,
thin:
But T will laugh and sing ray way along.
“ I gather them In. I gather them In.
I'll make tho most of what Is mine to
day.
“ I gather them In. For man and boy,
And If I never rise above the throng
Yoar after year of grief and Joy,
I shall havo lived a full life anyway.
l*ve bulkled the houses that lie around
—Detroit Free Press.
In every nook of this burial ground.
Mother and daughter, father and son,
Come to my solitude one by one;
THE TONGUE.
But, come they strangers or come they
kin,
He baa a killing tongue and a
I gather them In. I gather them in.
quiet sword, by tbe means
"Many are with me. but still I'm alone.
I ’m king of tbe dead, and I make my
throne
On a monument slab of marble cold,
And my scepter of rule Is the spade I
hold.
Come they from cottage or come they
from hall,
Mnnklnd are my subjects, all, all, all!
Let them loiter in pleasure or tollfully
spin,
I gather them In. I gather them In.
" I gather them in, and their Anal rest
Is here, down here, In the earth’s dark
breast."
And the sexton ceased, for the funeral
train
Wound mutely o'er that solemn plain.
And I snld to my heart when time 1s told
A mightier voles than that sexton's old
W ill sound o'er the last trump's dreadful
din:
“I gather them In. I gather them In ”
whereof 'a breaks words and
keeps whole weapons. — Shake- j
speare.
Watch thy tongue. Out of it
are the Issues of life.—Carlyle.
I world.—Raleigh.
Lady, lady, lady, lady:
And rued too late the wooing hour.
When lips were red and love had power.
And sighed and died In lonely bower.
Oh. lady, lady, lady, lady!
H, take you warning by those gonst
Lady, lady.
That maid and knight in Babylon,
Lady, lady, lady, lady!
Oh, take you warning by their woe.
Who sighed and died so long ago.
And break no heart by crying. "Nol"
Oh, lady, lady, lady, lady!
—W ilfred Campbell.
O
A L IT T L E S U N , A L IT T L E R A IN .
L IT T L E sun, a little rain
A soft wind blowing from tho west—
And woods and fields are sweet again
And warmth within the mountain'«
breast.
A
1
Q O ample is the earth we tread.
So quick with love and life her frame.
Ten thousand years have dawned and fled
And still her magic Is the same.
Fire and sword are but slow
engines of destruction In com
parison with the tongue of the
babbler.—Steele.
Hear much and speak little,
for the tongue is the Instrument
of the greatest good and the
greatest evil that Is done in the
■
A L IT T L E love, a little trust.
“ • A soft Impulse, a sudden dream.
And life as dry as desert dust
Is fresher than a mountain stream.
■
|
O simple Is the heart of man,
So ready for new hope and Joy,
Ten thousand years since It began
Have left It younger than a buy,
S
1
J