Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-05-12

/
cast-off clothes, despite my intimate &C.
| quaintance with their idiosyncrasies, but
did my best to help them out by arranging
the finds they made in their books for
them. Dorothy was bewailing the fact that
we thought so little of her entrance INTO
| this vale of tears that we saved none Of
| her baby things, when l suddenly remem-
\ bered that in an old-time trunk up in the
| attic there were some of her first clothes.
the seven of them went off upstairs to
| make a raid on the trunk, and thinking
| that 1 was rid of them for an hour or two,
/ settled myself to cut the leaves Of my
new magazine 1 had just got myself COM
| fortably fixed when / heard shrieks of
laughter and the clatter of boot-heels on
the stairs. l jerked myself upright with a
groan, for / knew that the racket por-
tended ill for my hour of rest.
An Autograph Album.
| ooh, Sara, Sara, guess what we have
| found,'' / heard in Jennie's shrill treble
| If 1 had had the training of that girl 1
would have taught her how to use her voice
without splitting the air, or known a good
reason why. 1t is simply excruciating to
| listen to her when she is excited. Just be-
fore the mob got to my door. which was
standing wide open, 1 heard Dorothy eau
ton the girls not to say too much, or
Sara would shut up like a clam" and they
would not be able to get anything out of
her. Now, was that a pretty remark for one
| sister to make about another? l was just
on the point of calling them to stay out
| for L was really exasperated beyond all
endurance with them-when they came
stealing in like lot of Indians stalking
deer, and Elaine slipped up and dropped
| something in my lap; then sprang back as
| though she might have been on a spring
| board. Then the seven of them went of
| in shrieks of laughter-girls are such geese!
| Now, what do you suppose was the cause
/ of all this unseemly mirth? only my old
autograph album! Dorothy says that l
| turned pale when l recognized 1t; and l
don't doubt that 1 did, for 1t is many
long year since l thought about it even,
and a great deal longer time since / saw it.
Embroidered because l did not explode, as
she termed it, Nora opened the subject by
dropping on the floor and putting her ell
bows on my knees. Please, Sara. We never
saw one like ii in our lives before, and we
are so interested. Tell all about 1t; did
you collect the autographs for their oddly.
or did the writer's think those sentiments?"
And then she quit, because her voice was
| too full of laugh to trust it,
| You will be good, you dear old thing.
and tell us something about the people who
| wrote"
| Dear Sara:
| - The rose is red. the violet's blue,
| Sugar is sweet. and are you.
| Ever thine. John
was the unceremonious way that Mary
| broke in OF Bobbie. reciting the doggerel
| in sing song that irresistibly funny.
| ''Or this said Elaine, before l could get
my breath. and she acclaimed tragically
| through her nose:
| Dearest One:
My pen is poor, my ink is pail.
| But my love for you will never fale.
| James Madison
Not Like Those of Today.
! Laugh! OF course l laughed. Who could
| help 1t? Beside they had me entirely at
| thei- mercy. and the only wise thing to do
| was to capitulate. l could not feel anger
| with my fingers closing on that book. Its
| queer rhymes and bad spelling. its trite
couplets and sorry metaphors, could make
| the girls merry. and, as l turned the yellow
! leaves, l did not wonder at it. but / could
! not laugh quite as they did. Neither could
you, II your youth were staring you in the
| face, and counting the gray hairs on your
| head, and the wrinkles around your eyes
| The autograph albums of today are not like
| those used in my young days and people do
1 not write as they once did. Now all COL
| lectors care for is to get the names OF noted
| people. Then we only wanted the kindly
| intentioned thoughts of our friends in our
| autograph albums The little book that
| Elaine tossed in my lap was Enthusiastically
| decorated with flowers and Cupds, and true
| lovers knots in colors, and the world 8
| champion expert couldn't classify the CHI
| Biography that was spread over the time
| stained pages From the covers came that
| odd closeted odor that Russia leather takes
| on when 1t has lain fo- an indefinite period
| undisturbed, and, as the leaves fell apart
| some pressed flowers shattered down in my
| lap. Who Is II says that ii Is we'll some
| times from the dead past the grave-stone
| to move of the years long departed for
| ever" just to look in on the dear bygone
Ia do nnt
greet them? 1 don't believe that the poet
knew much about it. We may love the
present, but there are very few who can
| look into the past with no desire to live
again some of its happy hours. had for
gotten my" girls, so busy was I with the
| bevy that the book called to mind, until
Nora laid her warm little hand on mine.
| I'VE did not mean to pain you, Sara"
| she said gently. I'VE found so many queer
things in It, and thought it would be such
| fun to have you tell us about some of your
| old sweethearts, there seemed to be a lot
of such ardent ones. Let me take the al
bum back. 1t was thoughtess of us, 1 am
| sure"
1 felt ashamed of myself for incoming
said / would tell them about the people
| who made the album precious to me-
Histories of the Writers Traced.
| begin on the very first page then" she
| said in a relieved tone. This is pretty
| writing; what dainty, fine hand women
| affected then, Sara" And she read the
dedication poem, which was full of lofty
sentiment and ended with the lines which
have been written in every autograph al
| bum that have ever seen, think:
'Our lives are albums written through
With good or ILL., with false or true;
And as the blessed angels read the pages
| of our years,
God grant they read the good with smiles
And blot the bad with tears"
| II wonder what was written in the book
| of her life?" unused Nora as she turned
| the leaf. do you think her actions NAV
| have been as lofty as her ideals?"
| 1t was with pleasure that / assured them
| that my friend had uttered her true senti-
| ments; for her whole life, which was I'M
| fortunately short, was filled with generous
| deeds. She was one of the workers in for
| eign mission fields and was buried under
| alien skies. On the next page was another
| high-sounding, sentimental verse, but the
| contrast was great in the outcome. That
| girl friend married 'hgh-minded" youth
| who was posing for fame in the ministry.
| Four children came before fame did He
| finally persuaded his wife that her Chris
| tan duty called upon her to put the chill
| dren in a home and go with him into
| foreign mission fields also So the four
| little innocents were showed off into q
| mission home to grow up without moth
| ers care. while she and their father went
| incoming off after fame. spending the little
| property that ought to have been left to
| the abandoned children.