Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1890-11-29
MINING JOURNAL.
FROsTBURG. MD. NOYEMBER 20. 1880
Thank Sgiying.

that point in its orbit sanctitied as a
holiday pause by the most christian of
civilized people, the question arises in
the mind given to reflection for what
are we thankful
1t is no trifing interrogatory. 1t
embodies in its wide sweep the opera
tions and issues of the multiform
phases and diverse conditions of life.
The chief magistrates of State and
States generalize them under the
formal rhetoric of official promul-
CATION, but the true answer is found
in the heart and experience of each
human personality.
No two of these are alike. The I'M
numbered stars differ less in sidereal
glory than do these millions of eX-
pressions of cosmopolite conviction.
The President, Governor, each and all
from the highest to the lowest estate
are presumed to enjoy some cause,
special to himself, of gratitude to the
Giver of all good. To few there is
occasion for thankfulness in their en-
ioyment of popular preferment; to
others of wealth, competence, and to
many, too many, the bare, unsatis-
factory fact that they are alive.
And in all these, high and low, rich
and poor, there is a leaven OF bitter
..1, ,,F
some condition of unrest. Power and
money, with all their potencies and
possibilities, are burdened with re-
sponsibilities, cares and fears, while
to subsection and poverty the phantom
of contentment is less delusiye because
the struggles of livelihood are more
tangibly painful.
For what, then, have either or any
to be thankful Shall they be CRATE
full that God gave them fear on the
one hand and want on the other
in most instances both to each ?
Are these. whether causes on effects,
blessings ?
Shall we be glad-for an instance
we who nearly midway the cycle felt
Il pair Of little arms slowly, SloWly
loose their pressure round our neck,
and saw the tiny hands-the hands we
used to lliss-fal white and pulseless
in death, while the bright spirit that
beatified few brief years of life here
sped away through the shining skies
to the bourne of the sinless somewhere
in the vast realms of unconjcctured
space
For days and weeks every memory of
this ruthless invasion of our affections
went through the heart like a knife
thrust. Why was life made to her a
burden too heavy to carry? Why
we Knocked by the visitation of an angel
whose only mission was to suffer, to
plead vainly with eye and tone, and to
cling to the life she could not keep?
1t was hard to take up the burden
she laid down, but it is good to think
that one like her has been. 1t is de
lightful to think that the great I'M
known is more homelike since she has
gone over there, and that whether her
gentle spirit dwclls on shore or sea she
cannot be where God snot. 1t is sweet
to think of her as one whom we shall
henceforth long to meet again-one
whom, when the time comes, we shall
seek among the thronging populace of
the disembodied to tind-in the words
of Tasso to his beloved Leonora--
The welcome of the one dear face.
To those, therefore, who have no
children-those especially who have
no parental interest in the far-away
future-no child somewhere above the
sky's immemorial blue-to such is not
committed the highest significance and
hottest enjoyment of thanksgiving.
Pointer to Paste in Democratic Hats.
A tracer which was sent out a day or