Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-10-21
SNAP SHOTS IN SEASON.
DoN'T place tin wreaths on the graves. They
keep the green grass from growing

HAVE you a memory mark? What's thatf
you ask. Why. something that happened
| long, SO long ago-an event that you remem-
bered then, which you remember now. which
| you will remember up to Finis--a happening
which you refer to IS the starting point Of
memory. the first "Ah, remember!'' OF course
you have, It's as plainly stamped on your
| mind the indelible birthmark. Just turn
! back the leaves In the book of the past-baek.
back, still back-there you have 1t, haven't your
| The first memory! And what a bright little
| page it is, too on the thought-touched volume.
Perhaps it takes you back to the very edge of
the cradle; perhaps it carries you to the cot or
trundle-bed; perhaps it leads you to the
nursery. Surely it transports you back to the
golden hours that glow between infancy and
teenhood, for in their short but happy span the
memory marx was made. What was it2 Was
it disaster or a victory? Was it fright or
frollc? Was it bogy or a real thing of flesh.
blood and bones? Was it baby Joy or an in.
fantile sorrow? One or the other. to be sure.
Whatever 1t was it left its mark You can't
go back Of it. There memory started, there it
draws the veil that shuts out the cradle but
does not obscure the grave. In childhood it was
mere wee speck. And how we would scratch
our little heads and cudgel our sleepy little
brains TO recall it, too. when guessing how far
back we could remember. 1t seemed such an
awful long time since it happened, you know.
Then as the years took us farther away from 1t
how closer it seemed To come! No hard think
ing, no guessing, no mistake. Finally when
age stamped its lines on our faces, thinned or
silvered our hair. drew our teeth. shrunk our
shanks in leading us up to the End how close
seems the Beginning, and 1t stands there bold
ly writ on memory's front page-the first year
post on life's rough road. No matter what.it
recalls it takes us back to the old home, the
old folks, the young days. the sunshine, the
nightless day, the dreamless night. All the
jolting over the ruts In the long lane of life,
lined with hopes. fears and years. cannot dis.
place or break it; time brightens it; tears can
not wash it away-mind mark indelible, men,
ory's most precious miniature.
You don't have to cultivate ground to raise
disturbance.
WHEN winter ices ponds and streams
So boys can DER them glide.
The girls will shoot, with awful screams,
Down the toboggan slide.
BURGLAR-PRooF safes and fireproof hotels
are all right until one IS robbed and the other
burned. Then people talk about them.
A GREAT many foolish young men buy cham
idea of making noise in the world.
WHEN you tread on a mans corn you shock
him.
LOTS wife received the first salty sentence.
THE Exposition folk should not be at all
backward about letting the public know ex-
actly how they stand. Hurry up the count,
gentlemen. The public are deeply interested,
and have right to clear statement at your
hands.
WHEN a gas we'll driller hits a gusher he
speaks in a lighter vein.
The man who lives in torrid belt
Has summer all the year;
And he who lives where ice can't melt
Has winter long and drear;
But he who lives 'twixt sun and snow
Has heat and cold com bined;
He gets the weather whether or no,
And is forced to 90 it blind