Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1878-08-29
A WHITE PAGE
BY ROSE PORTER.

Ethel Lee had come to one OF the
places in life that is hard to cross
gracefully. In the common accepta-
ton of the words, she was no longer
young, and yet by the same common
acceptance, she would hardly have
been pronounced old. The truth was
half decade or more had glided by,
-noislessly as years always do glide,
since for Ethel had been sung the
poets song:
"Like the swell of some sweet tune,
Morning rises into noon,
May glide onward into June"
since she had stood
"With reluctant feet
Where the brook and river meet"
And Ethel recognized this truth. She
knew that for her no longer was the
brooklet's "switt advance" lite EN-.
blem, but rather "the rivers broad
expanse" She knew too, for she
was a doughtful nature, that the wide
difference there is between the years
of our lives which are emblemed by
brook and rivers flow. She knew
how unlike the merry, laughing brook.
let, on whose ripping waves sun
beams danced and played, moon.
beams kissed and dimpled, was the
broad rivers tranquil flow, where tho
it waves, too, felt the sun and the
moonbeam's smiles and kisses, yet ov-
err they went to and fro crafts many
and various. laden with voyagers
of all ranks and conditions.
Men and women, old and
young, rich and poor, glad or sorrow
fuI, pleasure seekers and toilers, ever
sailing up and sailing down the riv-
er's waters all night long just as
henceforth, as the days of her life
came and went, she must meet, now
with sorrow, now with joy, with rich
and poor, pleasure seekers and toll
ing people, and on every one she
met she, Ethel Lee, must leave,
whether she choose or not, as we all
must, some Impress for good or evil,
The impossibility of standing still in
life, or finding some neutral place
where the web of ones influence was
not ever spinning it's gossamer chains
rested on Ethel's heart almost like O
weight, rs her girlhood glided into
womanhood and while the hints oil
her swiftly vanished youth, which
she daily encountered in society
caused only smile, the grave hints
of what life, sorrow or evil mean,
which one must encounter as they
begin TO grow old, caused many q
sigh.
She was met, too, by the same
problem which has puzzled so many
as they pass from life's horizon to its
meridian. The old questions. chow
help. troubled, needy people ?" "How
seek out wandering, SHINING people
Aow learn to know of the subtle
workings of wrong doing, and yet
keep ones own heart fresh and
pure 2"
Must the cause of wrong, and all
it's bitter sequel of grief be known to
find it's cure? Sermon after sermon
book after book, Ethel read on re.
formatory and mission work, seek
ing to find reply; and yet when
the answer came to her, it was il
the most simple way.
1t was June day, all the world
of nature was wide awake with glad
ness. Sitting on the broad piazza Of
the old homestead of N, it was hard
to tell which gave forth the most o.
ljoyousness-singipg birds, opening
flowers. golden sunlight or blue sky,
Yet not of sll this beauty did Ethe
speak to the friend at her side. No
she asked the question which sc
haunted her, "Must l know evil te
help evil?"
| And for reply that friend, wise in
the wisdom of a pure heart, told 9
brief story of her own experience.
Il remember so WE'LL she said
"a little incident of my early married
life that has stood for me as reply
TO many such query as yours.
entered he library ole day holding
in my hand printed paper l hac
found on the front door step. Care
lessly glanced at the words tracee
on it, when my husband said:
| tGive it 70 me, do not read it,
| Half playfulIy | replied: MOI