The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1873-06-12

ed to laugh the matter oil by saying IAN!
Mr.. Clemens, that was neat" "Witty as
usual ETC., ETC., but there was something
in the joker's eye that quickly told theio
he was in no joking frame of mind at that
moment. After that loafers were rather
shy of Mark Twain.
How to Grow Old.
IT is difficult to evolve out of ones own
interior consciousness the fact that he is
growing old. The period of middle life,
or ones prime, is very indefinite. Luck
lily it cannot be defined by figures, for one
man is older at forty than another at sixty.
The mild suggestion that We are getting
older than we were, may be facetiously
permitted, but the plain, unvarnished
statement that.we have actually got there,
and are really an "elderly person" com
monty comes home like shock: It is q
new sensation; making one feel queerly all
over. 1t would be a nice game for several
old parties to play at while the youngsters
have adjourned for the German or blind
mans buff, to tell all around when and
how it was that they first discovered that
they were old folks. We have venerable
and grizzly-looking friend somewhere
about sixty, who looks ten years older
than he is, but who is fifteen or twenty
years younger than the family Bible rec.
ord signifies, who had been preaching all
day in the pulpit of stranger congrega-
ton with venerable pastor Emeritus sit
ting behind him. When the social eve
ming service came, our friend, whose every
fibre tingles with perpetual youth, gay as
lark and frisky as colt, and who never
dreamed but that his feelings correspondent
with the reality, entered most devoutly
and reverently into the petitions of wor-
thy deacon for 1.-THE aged servant who had
so long labored in the vineyard" ("blessed
old man." our friends heart whispered
while his spectacles were growing misty,
land who has so faithfully dispensed to
us the word, today" The new sensation
had arrived. 1t struck our veneratcd
friend from crown to toe like a shower
bath, Warm chills crept through him.
Can it be-" he groaned. us this the aged
servants"
1t may lessen the shock to note the
symptoms of growing old-we mean of be-
ginning to grow old. A silver hair is
nothing, nor dozen, nor three dozen, for
that may be hereditary, probably is-but,
if you are old fogy enough to use quill
pen, see if you can mend it satisfactorily
without going to the window. Examine
yourself candidly as to whether you spring
over buggy-wheel exactly as you did.
Don't you hold your paper little further
off?
Brother Coffin" said Daniel Webster
to the spruce and would-be youthful
Rhode Island dandy lawyer, as he was as
tutely Strengthening himself back at arms
length over document, "you will have
to get yourself pair of specs or pair of
longs" We say nothing about threading
needles, or new teeth, for we would not
have our feminine readers suppose that we
are giving them any impertinent advice
on this subject. But as manly accom-
plishment the knowing how to grow old
is of great value, and, if we mistake not,
somewhat rare. The beautiful old age
that Cicero wrote of in his De Senectute is
not beheld every day. The hoary head a
crown of glory. is what we read ofoftener
than we see. There is an engraved pOr-
trait Of Thorwaldsen which might we'll
hang on every household wall, to show
the royal type of beautiful old age.
The mellow Indian summer ripeness,
sweetness and brightness of that serene
and noble face is benediction.
There was an old Hampden County
man, who died in Oberlin, not long ago,
who knew how to grow old. At four
score he was the youngest man in any
company; SO bright, genial, cheerful,
hopeful, even radical, was he. He never
croaked nor lamented. He enjoyed the
coming. His eye lit up every other eye,
and his speech rang with lofty cheer. His
eyes were always set in front, and he never
walked backward to see the past. The
world was happier every day for John
Keep. There is an old manufacturer,
whom one may often meet on some train
or other, hereabouts, who keeps moving
and is always smiling, and walks off in a
springy way as if the world used him well
and he had nothing to complain Of There
is an old divine, who, having resigned his
pulpit gracefully and in timely season, re-
tains his rightful leadership in society,
and strikes out with steely ring live
thoughts on living subjects; and another,
who, though past the allotted period of
man, camps out for his health in Canada
woods in frost time, instead of hugging
the chimney corner. There is an old poet
with white locks, who walks down Broad
way to his daily post, translating Homer
for his recreation, with sturdy step that
puts to shame many languid youth with
waxed mOustache. There is an old finan-
cier, whose port is noble as a Roman CEN
turion's, and whose head is level, who
also understands the art of growing old.
And there used to be old family doctors
who ratified about in sulkies, and carried
leathern portmanteaus with medicine
enough to kill twenty horses, who, up to
the final bourne, were so bluff and hearty,
and hilarious, that their merry souls did
good, despite their medicines.
We suppose that it is good deal in the
blood, and we'll oxygenated blood. There
was fine old specimen of an italian
General, who kept his blood aglow and
his old age hale, by keeping in the saddle.
The better constitution, the better Chris
tian. Muscular Christianity has a great
advantage over that which isn't muscular.
Chronic invalidism is apt to engender
chronic peevishness, selfshness and glum-
ness. The temptations of sickness may
be greater than those of health. If, then,
we suspect we are growing old, let us, by
all means, keep a good digestion. 1t is
the next thing to good conscience, and
greatly conducive to it. Keep moving.
Don't live in slippers, as you would keep
out of the "lean and slippered pantaloon."
Don't retire from business. Have a chair
in the office If you can't stand behind the
counter. Greet the old customers and also
the new. Let the places which have known
you, know you still. Don't hide from the
present age, nor curse it as out of joint,
nor barrow like an ancient woodchuck
into the former times, nor tremble
before the future. Thaw out toward the
young. Don't sicken them by examining
down their Threats too much unpalatable
advice. They have got to learn something
by their own mistakes, just as you did by
yours. Prove Shakespeare's sonnet false:
Grabbed age and youth
Cannot live together.
The antagonism he describes
Youth like summer morn
Age like winter weather,
is too often real, but it ought not so to be,
and if one knows how to grow old, it will
not be. Rather like the golden radiance
of the long, still, rustling, quivering Octo-
Der days, when out of the brown husk