Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1894-10-18

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The echo Of voices that ever respond
In tones soft and low
To prayers wo are breathing into the beyond
Docs anyone know
Nixon Waterman In Chicago Journal
A WAY OUT.
Aunt James View of the Worlt
and It's Opportunities.
peace and happiness, truth ant
justice, religion and piety"-the word
from the church service came to mint
unbidden when one looked at her
She was a plain little woman on thu
sha(y side Of sixty, sitting in streal
OF wintry sunshine seeding raislns
and seeding them so earnestly she
failed to notice the opening Of the
door.
It opened, swinging back to the
wall, and Maria Clendennin entered
with quick step, her face flushed
and unrest written plainly In her dark
eyes.
life Il an awful muddlel' she said
and she seized the poker and stabbed
flercely at the soft-coal fire. otis
enough to drive woman crazy just to
be alive nowadays. And there you
sit, Aunt Jane, with Q face like-well,
you always make me think Of the
'Hallelujah Chorus in the Messiah,
and | believe Handel would say SO
himself II he could see you"
Aunt Jane was little deaf. Whats
the child talking about9" she said,
glancing over her spectacles. The eyes
were dark and bright as though q
spark glinted through them. The
hallelujah was In the face, but II was
written there not by the touch Of an
angel, 1t was the victory Of battle,
and the peace was the rest after war
fare.
Maria had come to the border Of her
battlefield now, to the confines Of the
broad plain mistily bounded by the
other world, where each earnest wom-
an, looking out on the every-days, the
playground of youth outgrown, be-
gins to realize that ones living soul,
an everlasting life, is an awful thing
to have In ones keeping.
II believe" she said, slowly, Eyes, l
verify believe I'll take to paper roses
and lamp shades, and bonbons and
matinees. I'll put on my rose-colored
glasses and walk only on Fifth avenue,
and then III forget there Is any Five
Points, and I'll be happy"
"0h, no, my dear, thee won't. The
Clendennins aren't made for tissue
paper and cream drops. Thy grand
father was burned out of house and
home for daring to say black man
had rights; but he continued to say it
louder and louder"
"But, Aunt Jane, the world is SO
fierce now. People used to live their
little lives; butnow society is bubbling
and boiling md seething over qucs-
tions nobody can answer, though ever
body is trying to-"
"The bubbling and boiling began In
little town In Palestine nineteen
hundred years ago, and it's spreading
that's all, my dear" was the reply.
well, l wish I'd lived before the
spreading began, when Julius Cesar
did, for instance. How delightful to
sit on the best seat In a circus, and
just for the whim OF the moment, make
or mar life by turn Of ones thumb
no conscience then to bother any
body. I've tried Swimming over life
till felt | was dancing on graves, and
Nv tried diving into 1t till my hair Is
gray at twenty-five, over other peo-
ple's woes. This very afternoon I've
been perched for two hours on o hard
wooden settee, to hear Mrs. Lydia
Mary Potts tell us oil the horrors Of
underpaid bnttonholes and overpaid
landlords, Of damp, shivery cellars,
and sitting, stuffy garrets, till l feel
like voracious criminal in having o
third-story room and q bed to myself"
A look Of sympathy crept into the
face under the plain Quaker cap.
Maria quietly set the raislns aside,
pushed stool towards her aunt, and
sat down.
at is too dark to see tho seeds,
auntie, and, besides need the whole
Of you now" "This winter" she add.
ed, shyly, Eve been trying to brighten
my little corner of the whole, and Mrs.
Lydia Mary tells me from the platform
that I'm pauperizing the masses.
Awhile ago another woman told lis
that education was the key to unlock
the problem. Teach, teach, teach,
she said, and it sounded practical. So
by wearing last years bonnet and
shabby gloves I've put shoes on their
cold little feet and oatmeal into their
empty little stomachs, and kept Patsy
and Billy at school all winter. Now I
find I'm making paupers' Of the boys,
and thought was making citizens"
and there was a tremble in the voice.
"Did the Oracle propose a better
way Of making citizens?" said the
quiet voice. The voice was quiet, but
the eyes were afre.
II can't remember that she proposed
anything to do. The world seems Just
O dreary, helpless, hopeless blunder,
and I've been battered against great
stone wall, not a CLEAN Of light
through it, nor even Granny where
one could get foothold to climb up to
the light
"Aheml" said Aunt Jane, talk Is
cheap"
"Then there's Mrs. Mulligan, you
know, auntie. I've done her 'irrepara-
Bile injury because ! made up some I'M
bleached cotton for the twins and
didn't charge for the stuff, and she a
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