Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1880-01-30
Wings.
Swings that my heart may rest !"

wings! tuSt my ne2rt may reet!
Wishing, as sometimes do, for the
impossibilities, my husband turned to
me and said, Don't you wish you had
wings ?" and Immediately the question
repeated itself. Don't you wish you had
wings? And with it came the thought.
What would you do with them Where
would you go? Quickly came the an
swer: If had wings, the very best use
could make of them would he this:
when this same husband of mine comes
to me with his logic and fallacy, and I
have exhausted my power of argument
and OF patience, then would spread my
wings, taking my fight over land and
sea, would search the wide world
over, until, finding Protagroas worthy
OF the contest, / would bring him in
triumph, place him at the feet of my
Socrates, and then folding my wings,
breathe little and be at rest.
l am thinking now of the mother to
whom there is rest in the very thought
that, growing weary of the nest in the
hedgerows, and seeking for the rest
she nowhere finds, could unfold her
wings, and soaring to the cliff so high
she could hear naught. Glad to be
within sight OF the home-nest, but
more glad to be out Of hearing. Few
are the hours for the mother birds rest.
She listens to the warblings, until the
notes become discordant and the brain
becomes a whirl, and she longs for rest;
and only little rest will make her
think them the sweetest notes ever
heard ) and only little rest will make
her own songs the sweeter. To keep
these sweet should be our frat thought,
for we know the songs we sing shall be
their songs. They may make them
sweeter, but ours to them must be
hymns Of JOY.
Watch the nightingales as they are
brought into the singing schools to be
taught by master voice. They chatter
and converse among themselves, until
the first notes OF the master nightingale
strike their ears, They stop and listen
and timidly repeat the strain. Back
again the great teacher goes over the
same notes, and again the birds sing,
growing holder in their attempts. 'Do
not be discouraged" says an old writer,
"if the young bird be not willing to
repeat your lesson and continue to
MARBLE, soon he will show you that he
has not forgotten the. lessons received
in autumn and winter; he will repeat
them in the springtime." Does the
mother bird ever doubt that one day
her brood shall have wings to lift It
flom the earth-bound nest, to airs and
visions beyond our ken? She will
timidly lead them, step by step, IN
their weakness, but she knows power
that will lift them to the sunlight
beyond the clouds. These little ones,
30 helpless and tender, so dependent
upon our love, we teach from day to
day, first to beguile them with the
songs, then teach them to love the
song, then to sing the songs, and by
and by we catch the rustling Of wings
and the music becomes divine. .I
When Raphael would make cherub,
he searched the streets for little
"arab," anu. placing him before his
easel he taught him to lift his eyes to
heaven, and giving him wings, behold
an angel tit to touch the heavenly
strings among a myriad of angels f!
10 the mothers teaching these lessons
we'll, growing weary and faint in the
noon.day of life, that when the nest
has become rent and torn, and the
brood has become scattered, the morn
ing will come when to her shall be
given +' 81 III.
"Wingsl 'bove life to soar
And beyon death foreyermore."