The Austin weekly statesman. (Austin, Tex.) 1883-1898, 1892-03-17

something to say about the overhead
check rein, and said it, more because
it was in the heart and would come
than from any especial hope of doing
good. But behold, words of encour-
agement began coming in Monday,
and they Rave come from sources that
make encouragement worth while.
"Keep it upW has been the request on
all sides; so this week the Home
Corner "says it again" with renewed
emphasis. The overhead check is
cruel and unnecessary. Most persons
who use 1T do so from mere thought
lessness. There is one tender-hearted
lady whom many of you know, per-
the pretty horse she drives, and who
recently discharged servant because
he neglected to give the horse water
one day; yet the very next day she
was out calling and drove from place
to place with her horse suffering tor
lures all the evening on account of the
position in which his head was held.
Many of you may have noticed the
stylish turnout standing in front OF
some very fashionable residence. If so,
you noticed, too, how the horses ears
were turned back in evident pain, and
how he constantly tossed his head
about and threw it up, in a vain at
tempt to get into more comforta bic
position. He felt, no doubt, just as a
man would if he were forced to look
at something directly over his head
for hours at time. If you saw him
going up hill, afterwards, how your
heart must have ached for him! Ma
ture had made arrangements for him
to droop his head, in pulling his load
up hill; but nature was not taken
into account by the people who in
vented the overhead check, and So,
with his head thrown up instead of
down, he went his way uphill, and
there was nobody to pity him-no-
body, at least, who could do him any
good. And so L say-or so | would
say, if L were King of those Cannibal
Islands, "Down with the overhead
check, and give the horse chance"
Nv
"Women Who Win Their Way'' is
the title of one of the departments in a
popular weekly magazine, and under
this head it includes those who, hav-
ing struggled for years against wind
and tide, have at last gained the
haven of success. That is part of
the worlds bitter injustice. The
women who have won their way can
be praised generously enough. Col
umns are written about them, their
portraits and biographies are given
to the magazines, and there is en-
enlargement and clapping of hands
over all they do. But alas for the
one that succeeds how many fail! For
the one that gains firm footing on the
shore, how many are toiling on,
without recognition, with courage al
most gone, and only the energy of de-
spair left to animate the heart! What
if the leading magazines should, in
some wonderful moment, inaugurate
new system? What if they should
institute new department, for in
stance, sacred to Women Who Are
Trying to Win Their Way? What if
thecolums of praise should be written
about them, and they should find that
their gallant struggle had been not
altogether unnoted, and should
start up with hope and cour-
age renewed? But alas! 1 do
but dream! Women must win
their way to fall within the limited
gaze of the great American public,
which has the greatest respect for
merit after it has succeeded.
Thora ;o ona tbipO wa all nuUht to
be.especially thankful for, and that is
other peoples flowers. Many of us,
who are sincere hower-worshipers, are
strangers in the land, and sojourners,
and have therefore no abiding place
with plot Of ground about it, which
we can deck with the glory OF pansy
and lily, rose aud hyacinth. But
ar people have, with marvellous
o. Ierosity, established flower gardens
for us, and have been at no little
trouble and expense to keep the walks
neat and the beds in order. True, the
gardens are really theirs, but they get
little more pleasure out of them than
we do. The fence is only q low rail
ing. We lean on it sometimes, in
passing by, and see how those violet
beds are filled with blooms, and the
perfume comes to us like some sweet
old memory. The hyacinths have sent
up spears of pink or purple or snowy
white through the crust that was so
brown and bare little while ago.
The bridal wreath will soon be a
snowy billow and something has stir
red in the heart of the rose, so that it,
too, is smiling and waving tremulous
hands. AS for this Home Corner, there
are certain flowers which belong
especially to it, though they bloom in
other peoples yards. There is a rose
vine over a doorway-and oh, the
warm pink hearts of those creamy
roses, and the exquisite perfume they
send out to greet you, as you walk
along the street! People pass and look
back, smiling, as though they had re-
ceived benedictiOn; and all day long
the season through, those roses are a
perpetual blessing to all that pass.
ITO me, the meanest flower that blows can
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears"
And, therefore, too much cannot be
;eo Of ofh l,nOnln who cuI-