Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1889-12-20
81 EVA KATHARINE oLAPP.

klLAlcl4lA-LlAG HUH
the old, as chemistry arose from
alchemy. or not, remains to be seen.
This may be the result; or, slipping
back into the grooves of conventional
ism, we may resign ourselves to lotus
eating dreams, lulled by the sensuOus
strains of less complex compositions.
The question is one that's fraught with
interest, to the high priests and priest
esses of art and estheticIsm chiefly,
In the meantime, the vast army OF
us, the rank and file of humanity, as
we march along, time our steady foot
steps to the CHEEKY music of the fire
side
It is a Iow-toned, unObtrusive and
comfortable melody, scarcely noticed
amidst earth's more turbulent noises.
Yet, what a dread and awful stiffness
would it leave in our lives should it
suddenly go out and forever cease to
be.
In the morning this freside music is
a kind of choral hymn, wherein are
blended the voices of the children,
raised in affectionate morning greeting;
the siIvery ripple of their happy laugh
ter nipples through all the compost
ton. 1t is the variation, played in
hute-Iike tones upon the sober theme.
of breakfast table, household converse
ton.
And now, the canary bird, hearing
the joyous stir about him, concludes
that it is high time for him to strike in
with his part, and he pipes up, with
spirit, giving US a pleasing variety Of
trills. shakes, runs and roulades;
while the pet dog contributes a few
staccatO yelps, purely from a spirit Of
emulation.
The coffee urn makes no noise, only
offers up a fragrant incense of steam,
as its share of the performance; but at
evening, when the family shall gather
around the cheerful fire, where snap
ping and cracking Goals, like the tam
BOURNE in an orchestra, are more for
looks than for sound, then the boiling
teakettle viii sing melOdiOusly, q
dreamy soft alto, and Of our freside
happens to be in an old country house,
the cricket, sweet minstrel of domestic
peace, viii emerge from his secret nook,
and tuning his violin to high and res
Onant pitch he viii pipe in pleasant
accord to the kettles low drOne.
And now, perhaps, leading this de-
1ightful orchestra Of quaint and Origi-
nal if humble musicians, softly rises
toward heaven the voice Of the mother,
as with a tender lullaby she gently
rocks her nesting off into sIumber-
land. And call you not this harmony?
1t is the harmony Of home, the
blessed music of the fireside.
The mothers sIumber song, the chill
dren's laughter, the cricket's carol
this is music that inspires the man
ly heart to renewed efforts each day,
in the paths of honorable toll.
It is music like this that softens the
heart toward our fellow strugglers
through LIES vicissitudes. It is the
music of sweet and wholesome home
affections, bubblng up necessarily
from the deep heart of life and chant
ing praise to the giver of all good.
It is not the result of any painful
drill nor acquired by weary years of
study. 1t solaces the cottage even more
freely than it does the mansion.
Sweet as the thrushes' matin call,
when the June sunrise Pushes the east,
and the wild rose exhales in fra
GRANGE the secret Of her dreams, it
is heartfelt and full of ministering
grace for our fainting souls as the song
of angels, and cheerful as the first day
in Eden, when Eve, in the jOyOusness
of innocence, laughed aloud as she
| gazed upon the beauty around her.
Here's a health to the shade of the
glorious master, Wagner, a health to
all artists and composers in the divine
art of music; but after all, the music
that we should miss the most, the
music that makes life endurabIe, that
sounds sweetIy, even to the ears of the
cherubim and seraphim, is the cheer
full yet holy music Of the freside.-
! Chicago Ledger.