The Lake Charles echo. [volume] (Lake Charles, Parish of Calcasieu, La.) 1876-1898, 1885-01-24
Robt. J. Burdett, in Brooklyn Eagle.

Robt j. Burdett, in Brooklyn Eagle.
! turn over the leaves of an old not,
book, the pages Of which | filled hal
a score Of years ago. On one page
find this note:
my books are all wrinkled anc
filled with crumbs of maple and su
mac leaves, with here and there for
gotten forest leaf clinging to thu
printed one. All, well, some time
may kiss the Wrinklcd pages of my
choicest book while | think of the
dear, white hands that laid the maple
leaves in history or lexicon, and thank
God that the page is wrinkled and
the engraving discolored."
And now, whenever / turn to thai
page in the note book, do you know,
my boy, how glad | AIN that | wrote
about the leaves as did! There was
no shadow of fear Or dread over my
little home then. There was no rea-
son why | should feel 50 tenderly to-
ward the, leaves and stems that stained
and wrinkIed my books, and ever kept
me from using them for week at a
time, was there? All, indeed, there
was. Indeed, there was. Because love
is better than books, my boy. Be
cause your books, my son, though you
crowd the literary treasures of the
world upon your shelves, can never
creep into your heart as your wife
will, some day, when you find the girl
whom the gods have decreed shall
crown your home. Because we should
always hold the hearts that love us
nearer to us than the petty annoy
ances and little ills of this life. Be-
cause the quick, hasty word you
speak in i'll temper or ungentleness
to-day, my boy, leaves a sting in your
heart to Fankle half century away.
Because to-day, if | could, would
burn up every book there is in all this
world Just to feel the little hands that
laid those leaves in the pages where |
said they must not 60, clasp themselves
about my neck for one hour. Hold
your tongue and your pen, my boy.
Every time you are tempted to say an
ungeutle word, or write an nnkind
inc, or say mean, ungracious thing
about anybody, just stop; lock ahead
.wenty five years, and think how it
may come back to you then.
Let me tell you how ! write mean
etters and bitter editorials, my boy.
some time, when a man has pitched
pto me and "cut me up rough" and I
want to pulVerize him, and wear his
CORY scalp at my girdle and hang his
lide on my fence, write the letter or
editorial that is to do the business. |
yrite something that will drive sleep
rom his eyes and peace from his soul
or six weeks. 0, do hold him over
slow fire and roast him. Gall and
quafortis drip from my blistering pen.
Then, ! don't mail the letter and | don't
,rint the editorial. There's always
'lonty of time to cruelty a man.
The yilest criminal is entitled to lit
le repricye. J put the manuscript
way in drawer. Next day look |
t it, The ink is cold, | read it oyer
nd say: Il don't know about this, |
here's a good deal of bludgeon and |
owie knife journalism in that. III |
old it over day longer The next |
ay ! read it again. laugh, and say |
Pshaw," and | can feel my cheeks
citing little hot. The fact is am
sbamed that ! eyer wrote it, and
ope that nobody has seen il, and |
ave half forgotten the article or let
er that filed my soul with rage. Ii
ayen't been hurt, | haven't hurt any
ody, and the world goes right along,
laking twenty-four hours o day as
sual, and ! am all the happier. Try
J, my boy. Put off your bitter re-
,arks until tomorrow. Then when
on Try TO say them deliberately you'll |
nd that you have forgotten them, 4
nd ten years later, alb, how glad you
i'll be that you did. BE good-pa.
lred, my boy. BE loving and gentle
'ith the world, and you'll be amazed |
> see how dearly and tendetly tie /
,oried, tried, yexed, barrassed old |
ORD loves yon.
Remember Morse's Anue and Ma |