Savannah courier. (Savannah, Tenn.) 1885-1979, 1891-04-23
pOt-nOurri.

Live for something be not idle;
Look about thee for employ;
Sit not down to useless dreaming,
Labor is the swee est JOY"
In this busy, busting mart, how
often we meet with those who
never have an idle moment; who
plan and mark ont with method
and precision the work for each
golden hour and then find to their
sad disappointment that they can
never accomplish the half of what
they desire. A whole lifetime will
never suffice to do the many tasks
laid off for those busy hands and
working brains to accomplish.
Then we meet others to whom
''life is as tedious as a twice-told
tale;" nothing to live for, nothing
to do. They cannot, in this great
vineyard, find anything suited to
their inclinations.. Time hangs
heavy on their hands, they COM
plain of ennui and sigh for some
thing to break the monotony.
Adam Clarke said, II have lived
to know that the great secret of
human happiness is this: Never
suffer your energies to stagnate.
The old adage of too many irons
in the fire. conveys an untruth-
you cannot have too many-pOker,
tongs and all, keep them going"
1t is far more preferable to wear
out than to rust out, "at least
wen die with harness on our
back"
No pleasure, however small, be-
longs wholly to the present. A
stolen tour Of recreation, a visit
20 some noted spot in nature,
week spent in the home of an old
friend, an hour passed in pleasant
converse with some congenial
soul, will furnish food for happy
"reminiscences and many a pleas
ant reverie long after the actu !
occurrences have been numbered
with the things of the past. In
the halls of memory are stored
scores of such treasures, that are
stirred by the lightest trihes--the
note of a bird-song, the touch of IA
hand, voice, an Odor, or frag-
ment of some sweet old song. One
of Tennnesses's cultured daugh-
tiers writing from Boston in refer
ence to an invitation to attend a
concert at Plymouth, the quaint
old town where landed the Pill
grim fathers, and immortalized by
Longfellow in his "Courtship of
Miles Standish," says: "Aside
from the music the old historic
town itself, with the Atlantic muir
muring off to the left, was temp
tation, and | went. The water
all my life | had dreamed of it,
but when saw it, great placid
stretch Of blue, with the Lighthouse
es issuing here and there and tall
Miles Standish monument tower
ing skyward i could feel my
heart bound with delight. And
the boats, dories, skiffs, sails, ev-
erything! My window at the no
tel opened full upon the water,
and | knelt before it for hours,
and far into the night, although
the wind whistled about me with
i kind of mad fury, and watched
he pale stretch of silverish water
sleeping in the moonlight. 1t was
a dream to me, a life cherished
dream. And when at last | re-
tired, cold and hcavy-eyed, just
when the gray dawn was SHIN
mering over the ocean, | felt glad
that come what would, the melan-
choly JOY OF that h0ur alone, with
the midnight and the sea, could
never be taken from me-"
While bhsily engaged a few
mornings past a rustling sound at
tracted my attention and raising
my eyes / beheld a visitor whose
entrance into the ''holy of holies'
had not been observed, and whose
costume WAS most gorgeous and
dazzling. 1t was of the finest and
s0ftest of black velvet and cream
with accessories of silken black
cause. 1t was the everyday ha
biliments, and as my admiring
eyes Toasted on the soft silky pile
of the creamy velvet, | could no
suppress longing sigh, although
| am not in the least envious, bu
am always happy to see my neigh
Dor prosper though be in the
} slough of despair myself to think
that day by day had to labor
and toll, yet could not have sucl
gorgeous attire even for state oc
casions. "Note the lilies of tht
valley, how they spin not, neithe,
, do they toll, yet Solomon in al
his glory was not arrayed like ont
of these" My visitor was a fin,
large specimen of the specie
bOmbuS-a bumble-bee.
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