St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1893-01-06
SOMETHING FOR WOMEN.
Hints and Suggestions From Aunt
Polly.

L9NJ IA l. OkO w ~ 4N1 AI4Ns
Hints and Suggestions From Aunt
Polly.
1t is the custom TO laugh at sentiment,
! know, but life without sentiment is
like apple pie without cheese. 1t is q
pie, and very good as tar as it goes, but
it lacks the delicate flavor that the
cheese brings out. One may lead very
good sort of life doing all ones duties
in every relation without bit of sentl-
ment: YOU may be a person OF conse-
quence and stand we'll in that position to
which pleases the Lord to call you: you
may be good citizen, a good father or
mother, husband or wife in dry, me-
chanical sort Of way but ii sentiment is
left entirely out Of your life there will
be a feeling OF lack, unexplained or un-
expressed it may be, that like d rift IN
the lutte" will spoil the melody OF liv-
ing. Life consists not merely in eating
and drinking, in the garments we WeAr
or house In which to sleep or spend
our time, but in Il myriad of little things
that unnoted round it out. The love
Of kindred, the beauty Of friendship, the
comfort of sympathy, the tenderness OF
religion, the eXalIatou Of herOiSm, pa
thence Of suffering. all these enter into
The making of real life; but more and
beyond all these is thatSubtle something
we call sentiment, that beauties and
'WdenS it out, enricning it beyond all
power of comparison. 1t is this-that
gives value to SO many things, and there
are very few people who are entirely
without 1t. Take the toughest OF most
cynical man of your acquaintance. He
may delight TO laugh, in his SneerIng
way, at love, or friendship, or honor;
ana yet be assured that somewhere he
hides some feeling that would thrill
again + the right touch were applied,
Sometimes it is music that can enact
the magician's part and wake that other
and better self that has so l0ng seemed
dead. Try him with bonnie DOOM or
the Old Kentucky Home" or SHAW
NUT" or Retreat" He will groWl,
perhaps worse, and ask Systematically
what you evil take for the rest OF that
music" but if YOU watch him you VIII
see a shadow settle over that mask he
calls his face, while Old times or Old JOYS
OF SORROWS will wake into life. Perhaps.
like how many others, he viii sing
TO the tune of Bonnie DOan." but
yocing his own amazed surprise at
nature. "LloW can We bloom SO fresh
and fair" While all about him the world
is streWn with the wreck of LIES most
beautiful possibilities; or he remembers
the little girl who sang to satisfy her
own homesiciI longing, The sun shines
bright in my old Kentucky home"
while the wind swept the snow around
the new home In the cold Northwest.
He can see again the soft curve OF her
girlish chin, the light i'll her bonnie eye,
the ripple of her sunny hair, and above
all he hears the music OF her voice
He "lost her long ago." he may say, but
is she lost? With tie melody OF that
old song she starts into life again; he
could almost clasp her In his arms as
she looks at him with her sweet. arch
face, on which the shadow OF are never
fell, as full OF love for him, poor shell
that he has grown, as in those days Of
long ago.
Or do you know spinSter, sour it
may be and like a nettIe, ready to sting
every paSscr-by with sharp words that
voice SHARPER comments? Somewhere
she too has her "place Of wailing." 1t
NAV be over an old trunk. seldom
opened, for this busy life will not allow
many visits to those long-l0st days.
Lift the lid, what delicate perfume
greets you! Likenothing you ever smelt
before! 1t is from those Withered rose
leaves that fell from the flowers that
grew by the door at the ola house, the
"damaSk," or the "maiden's blush" or
the spicv "hundred-leaved;" we 10 not
see them now. They were gathered
by hands that have been dust fOd years.
They are shriveIed and black, but hold
their perfume still. Is that bundle OF
old letters, tied with a bit OF blue
libbon? 1t was snood for her hair,
and bought by her boy lover TOR
Christmas gift, when Christmas gifts
meant something. Under the letters a
little box; no, it is miniature case tnat
opens with touch, to reveal the race OF
soldier. How llfe-libe he looks. His
gray eyes are so true, his red lips
has cleft in, the cap with
its crossed sabers is pushed back
and the brown curIs peep from under
it, his hand in its gauntlet graSps his
sword hilt; and so he died, sword in
hand, face to foe, and the smile of a
hero on his lips. What is this? 1t is
the glove of the picture and the forage
cap with a dark stain hiding the tar
nished crossed sabers; these are all that
was left her when ''hOme they brought
her warrior, dead" She seldom looks
at these old reminders of dead past
that is not dead for her, and needs only
the strain of martial music to waken
into life and bring back that gallant
presence to her side again.
Let US not laugh al sentiment, since 1t
represents the sweetest and best OF life
for all of us, but rather let us cultivate
it. What wonder of bloom and beauty
would beautity every life if only we had
not grown to think it childish to show
our sentiment to these dear ones who
walk lfe's toilsome road by our sides.
No chill of poverty is like the chill Of
neglect. No sting Of misfortune is like
the sting of forgetfulneSS or indiffer-
ence. We bend above the silent dead
with tenderest words OF loving praise,
when they have gained peace and know
the truth of that sweetest OF all prom
ises, 1--WE shall he satisfied" but the
loving hearts about us are wounded day
bv day by our coldness. The sarcastic
word. the cutting rem TX hurt, though
perchance pride held mask over the
wound--a mask wreathed in smiles.
Some one has sung of how we greet the
stranger with courteous smile and act
while
I'VE keep for our own the cutting tone,
Tho we love our own the best"
AIrNU POrTv