Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1889-06-26
Not Sentimental" )"
ROBBING LIFE OF THE BEAUTY WHICH IS IN
THE EXPRESSION oF LOVE.

ROBBING LIFE OF THE BEAUTY WHICH IS IN
THE EXPRESSION OF LOVE.
Mrs. Harden blew the horn for break
fast at o'clock Her husband came in
from the barn and her son from the gar
den, where he had been digging since
dawn. The Hardens were thrifty farmers,
sober, hard-working, God fearing folk
They were healthy and prosperous; they
ought to have been happy, but they gath
cred about the table silently, even without
giving each other recognizing smile.
1t was raw, cold morning. Mrs. Har-
den had been up since o'clock to make
certain dishes, because her husband liked
them. He thought, as he ate them now,
that mothers biscuit were even crisper
than usual and her chops done to turn;
but he did not tell her so.
Cely, the daughter, who had been at
work in the dairy, came in just as the
others were finishing their meal. She
nodded and they nodded to her, but no
one smiled or spoke. Her mother had put
away her breakfast to keep it warm, and as
she set it before the girl she felt as if she
would like to stroke her head or kiss her,
as she used to do when she was baby; but
such demonstrations were sentimental, !"
and sentiment to Harden was only
another word for Stiffness.
| Tom Harden was an industrious lad,
whose thought and ambition we're bounded
by the farm. His father, the day before,
had heard some influential men of the
county declare that Toms calves were the
fattest brought TO market, and his apples
the soundest and most carefully packed
He knew that such praise would delight
the boy, and wished that he could hear it;
but he could not bring himself to repeat it.
| When breakfast was over the men
started for distant part of the farm, not
to return until night. Cely, as she packed
her fathers dinner, felt wrench of pity at
her heart for the old man. He was old and
weak; he had worked for his children SO
faithfully and long! If he could but rest
now! She would have liked to put her
arms around him and tell him this.
| Instead of doing so she carefully packed
the basket, saying: "There's the beef and
the bread and the pie and the bottle of
water. That's all.
All; but the word of tenderness, the lov-
ing touch which would have cheered and
sweetened the days labor for the old man!
Too many Hardens are to be found upon
our New England and middle state farms,
as well as in our villages and towns. They
are often the descendants of men who fled
| from persecution and wrested their living
by hard labor from savage wilderness,
and thus learned to value only the rugged
virtue of truth and endurance and to de-
spise the lesser charities, the amenities
and courtesies of life. The present gene
ration has inherited their grim, unpleasant
virtues.
| Never be afraid to brighten the life of
your friend or nsighbor by praise or love,
provided the praise and love are true.
God has made nothing for use without
giving it an additional touch of grace and
beauty. The hardest rock, seen Though
the microscope, has its exquisite tints and
lines.
Why should we strive to rob Our lives of
that harmony and beauty which is the ex-
-ession of the love that comes from him?-
YOUTHS Communion.