The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1884-06-05
Goliath at Home.

| Goliath at Home.
The home is the cline where the man
is great There he is King, or royal
eonsort anyhow If he isn't Gov
| ernor, he is Lieutenant Governor. He
is always sure of some place in the adj
ministration. Outside, the world, which
is pretty full of great men all the time,
may not be particularly impressed with
his greatness. 1t may even ignore him
at times, and occasionally sit downupo
him. But at home he is always sure
of sympathetic, appreciatiye and re-
sponsiye audience, If he happens to be
| the lecturer His stupidity there passes
current for profound wisdom; his prosi-
ness is looked upon as wisdom; his
jokes are always laughed at. Not
without some occasional prompting, il
| is true, because the mans Jokes are
frequently SO fearfully and wonderfully
made that they cannot be properly
| understood without the aid of q CLOS
sary, but if he indicates the place, the
laugh will surely come. A mans best
! Jokes and stories are like a pair OF
skates. He never thinks of them until
| he wants to use them, and then hall
the time he doesn't know where they
are. But the home audience always
enjoys his stories, whether he remem.
bers half or none of them, and the one
he forgets entirely is usually the most
highly appreciated. He is small,
rather pleasant tyrant. who is loved fo1
| his harmless despotism, which pleases
| him, and hurts no one else.
And how comforting to man is the as
surance that home is the only place in
the world that will remember him when
he goeth to his long home and the
mourners go about the streets. When
we have strutted our brief hour and
gone off the stage, little enough the
world will miss US. The day we die
will be as full of life and song and
| laughter as was the day when we were
born. There is a little widening circle
of ripples about the grave when the clod
sinks out of sight and when the circling
ripples reach the shore they are not felt
nor seen; the lake is placid, beautiful,
pitiless. Even while the mourners 90
| about the streets, as the slow-moving
procession winds up the sorrowfui way,
sunlight will crown the hills and sparkle
on the river, and dance with cleaning
feet on solemn crag and whispering
tree; the song of birds will glorify the
long, bright summer days with sylvan
melody; starlight and whip-po'-wil
silvery dew drop and chirping katy
did, tremulous moonbeam, Pickering
shadow and murmuring fountain
will fill the sleep nights with en-
ebantment; dimpling meadow and
golden field and nodding forest will
WOO the sunshine and defy the storm;
| other ambitions will tread along the
ragged paths where we have walked
with bleeding feet; conquest and de-
feat will crown and dethrone other
lives, and on the wreck-strewn shores
of Time the drifting sands will cover
our names and hide them from the
eyes and memories of men. The bells
that toll at the funeral will chime at
| the wedding; we "beat the drum, that
it speaks mournfully" to the grave,
and rafting quickstep thrills our merry
feet back to the noisy camp; we flee
| like shadow and continue not; and
'.as it happeneth to the fool, so it hap
peneth even to me; and why then was
[ more wise? For there is no remem-
brance of the wise more than the fool
forever; seeing that which now is In
the days to come shall all be forgotten.
And how dieth the wise man? As the
| fool There is little while, and the
tired hands and busy brain rest at last
forever; the white face feels not the.
burning tears that fall upon it like
summer rain drops; hears not the
heart breaking means nor the pitiful
sobs that mourn above the sleeper, and
| then
Lo, out in the quiet graveyard where
we lie at rest, lovers will come in the
days of June, and sit on our lonely
| graves and wear off the grass, and con-
tract bad poetry and worse rheumatism,
while they burden the haunted air with
labial confectionery.
| But at home, how will our names be
blessed. Our vices, and thank Heaven
none of us has one, will be forgotten;
our virtues will be magnifed and ex-
aggerated until in multiplying they
will be multiplied as the stars of heaven
and as the sand which is upon the sea
shore. At home, greater and greater
will we grow from generation to'genera-
ton, until as time rolls on, the path of
our family record will shine more and
more unto the perfect day, when the
living generation will point with pride
to you and me as great great great
| grandfathers.-R. j. Burdette, IN Bar
liaqtoa Hackeye.
An Astan;Shod Cof