The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-02-20
THE OLD MAN.
Address Of ]. W. Riley at the Dinner Of
the indianapolis Literary Club.

IL was as follows:
'You are old Father William the young man said
And your hair has become very white
And yet you necessarily stand on your head
Do you think, at your age, it is right!
The Old Man never grows so old as to become
either stale, iuiceess or unptdatabe. The older
he grows, the meliower and ripper he becomes
His eyes may fail him. his step faltcr and his
big-mouthed shoes-'%A world too wide for his
shrunk shanl1'-may cluck and shuttle as he
walks: his rheuinatics may make great kuuckleS
of bis knees, the rusty hinges of his vertebrfe
may refuse to cunninsly articulate, but all the
same the backbone of the Old man has been
time-seasoned tried and tested, and no deer
skin vest was ever buttoned round tougher!
Look at the eccentric kinks and curvings of it
its abrupt depression at the base, and its
rounded bullying at the shoulders; but don't
laugh at the smart young man who airily OBJ
serves how full-chested the old man would be
if his head were only turned around, and don't
kill the young man. either, until you take him
out some place and tell hint that the old man got
himself warped up in that shape along about the
times when every body had to hump himself.
Try to bring before the young mans defective
mental vision dissolving view of Il good old
fashioned barn raisin' and the old man doing
all the ''raisin' himself-and ''grubbin," and
burnin logs and 'underhresh' and ''dreenln
at the same time, and trying to coax something
besides calamus to grow in the little, spongy
! tract of swamp land that he could stand III the
middle of, and 'wobblef and snake the whole.
farm. Or if you can't recall the many salient
features of the minor disadvantage under which
the old man used to labor, your plant limbs may
soon oYertake him, and he will sniingly tell you
of trials and p1ivations of the early days, until
your anxiety about the young man justnaturally
stagnates, and dries up, and evaporates, and
blows away
In this little side-show of existence the old man
is always worth the full price Of admission He
is not only the greatest living curiosity ON eXn-
bition, but the object of most genial sohcitude
and interest to the serious observer. 1t IS even
good to look upon his vast fund OF Affections,
finding prominent above them all that whole
some patience that sIrpaSseth understanding.
To eompassionately dwell upon his prodigality
of aches and ailments, and yet, by his pride in
their wholesale possession, and his thorough
resignation to the inevitable, to be continually
rebuked, and in part made enviouS of the old
mans right-of title situation. Nature, after all,
is kinder than unkind to him, and always has
compensation and a soothing balm for every blow
that age may deal him. And in the fading EN-
bers of the old mans eyes there are, at times,
youth, and the old aPtlessness about the wrinkled
face that dwelt there when his cheeks were like
the pippins, and his
r - red lips, redder still. esi.
Kissed by Strawberries the hill"
And thus it is the children are 1ntuitively drawn
toward him, and young pure-faced mothers are
forever lowering about him. with just such hui
mornings and kindly ministrations as they bestow
upon the little emperor of the household realm.
strapped in his high chair at the dinnePtable,
crying amen ia the midst of grace and ignor-
ing the "substantials' of the groaning board,
and at once insisting upon square deal OF the
more temporal blessings of jelly, cake and pie
And the old man has justly earned every G{S
tinction he enjoys. Therefore. let him make
your hearthstOne all the brighter with the rudy
coal he drags up from it with his pipe, and com
foFtably settles himself where, withFeminiseent
eyes he may watch the curling smoke of his to-
baceo as it indolently floats and drifts and dips
at last, and vanishes aP the grateful hue. At
such times, when hve-year old, what
hnxa hnN hoe md
between the old grandfatbers knees!
Look back in fancy at the faces blending there
1.-THE old mans and the boy's-ane, with the
nimbus of the slnoke-wreaths round the brews
the gliding of the freight ON cheek and chin,
and the rapt and far-off gazings of the eyes of
both--why, but for the silver tinsel of the beard
of one, and the dusky elf locks of the other, the
faces seem almost like twins. With such a
view of age, feels like whipping up the lazy
years and getting old at once In heart and
soul the old man is not old-and never will be,
He is paradoxically old, and that is all. So it is
that he grows younger with increasing years,
until old age at worst is always at a level par
with youth Who ever saw man so old as not
to secretly and most heartily wish the veteran
years upon years of greater agei And at what
great age did ever any old man pass
shock, and no selfish hearts to still yearn
after him and grieve on unconsoled Why, even
in the slow. declining years of old Methuselah-
the banner old man of the universe-so old that
go off some place and die; even Methuselah's
taking off must have seemed abrupt to his i'm
mediate friends and blow to the general pub
lic that doubtless plunged it into the profound
est gloom. For $3.50 years this durable old man
had 'smelt the rose above the mold" until, nee
essarily, the habit of living, with him, was hard
to overcome. And in his later years what an
oracle he must have been, and with what Fever-
ence his friends must have looked upon the lit
tie glassy-headed, hairless man." and hung
upon his every utterance. And with what un
erring gift of prophecy could he foretel the long
and husky droughts of summer-the gracious
rains, at last,-the milk-siek breeding autum II
and the blighting winter simply by
the way his bones felt after centurys
casual attack of inhammatory rheumatism
And, having annually frosted his feet for some
what quiet delight he was wont to practice his
prognostieatngf Facilities on ''the boys, forecast
ing the coming Of the then hedgling cyclone and
the gosling blizzard, and doubtless even telling
the day of the month by the way his heels
itched And with what wonderment and awe must
old chronic maladies have regarded hm-tackling
him singly, or in solid phalanx, only to drop
back pantingly, at last, and stink away dunn
founded aud abashed; and with what brazen
pride the final conquering disease must have ex-
ulted over its shameless victory! But this is
pathos here, and not place for ruthless speeu-
lation; place for asterisks-not words. Peace!
peace! The man is dead "The fever called liv-
ing is over at last" The patient slumbers
He takes his rest He sleeps. Come away! He
is the oldest dead man in the cemetery.
Whether the hardy, Stalled old man Of the
country, or the opulent and we'll groomed old
man of the metropolis, he is one in our esteem
and the still warmer affections of the children
The old man from the country-you are always |
glad to see him, and to hear him talk. There |
is a breeziness of the woods and hills, and a |
spice of the bottom-lan and thickets in every |
thing he says and dashes of shadow and sun |
shine over the waving wheat in all the varying |
expressions of his swarthy face The grip Of his |
ness of his voice in greeting you is even luling
and meodious, since it unconsciously argues the |
franlness of a nature that has nothing to con- |
ceal. Very probably you are forced to smile, |
meeting the old man in town, where he never
seems at ease, and invariably apologies in some
WAY for his presence. SAVING. perhaps. by |