The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1896-05-14

bad piece Of worldly wisdom. your lips
were sealed as she stood before you. SO
Christ-lilse in her compassion, pleading
for the lost.
Some few of Stella's songs are float
ing around" not sheltered in Cob
ewbs." that surely ought to be. A num-
ber Of these are in a lighter vein, con-
tanning choice bits of humor and world
ly wisdom that are wasted-one Is in
clined to so regard it-wasted in Car
riers' New Years offerings. and the like.
The lines below from one of these of
ferings" or Addresses" are far too
characteristic and poetic for their set
ting:
We thought of failure. to be sure.
And knew twas mortal lot
To lose the ships We sent to sea.
But somehow, We forgot
When Hope sat smiling AT our side.
And whispering in our ear:
All, well. our schemes have failed. 1t
seems:
We rsked and lost last year.
But, whate'er comes to hearts or homes,
II love, or grief, or fear.
We shall remember with pang
The old unquiet year:
And with a courage born of hope,
Reach outward towards the new,
Nor TO ourselves, or fellow-man.
Or country be untrue
And so one might continue the clip
ping and culling from this garden of
roses, finding marks of her pronounced
personality everywhere.
How keenly Mrs. Watres enjoyed out
door life can be seen in her poems. She
4 ., g L. of n 4, ,ra
with almost as reverent hand as the
Book of Revelation. She stepped aside
to avoid crushing a worm-''Im Uncle
Toby"-and-was it reverence that kept
her from gathering the flowers? Her
eyes sparkled and expressions of ad-
miration of their beauty and fragrance
were spontaneous and hearty, but she
never plucked them to adorn either vase
or pcrson-she admired, and left them
where God had placed them.
Dame Nature is SO sincere" she
used to say, no shams about the dear
old lady" Shams' How Stella hated
shams! Shams, religious and political;
shams, literary and sociai-even sham
skirts. "Watres, Limited" may he
written all over my wardrobe il need
be, but draw the line at sham skirts. '
I'll none of them" out of this hatred
of shams probably grew her contempt
for the etiquette and ceremony govern
ing social life. and if at any time she
were SO circumstanced as to be obliged
to conform to ii her apparent distress
was very amusing. Though she brushed
etiquette out of her way as so much
rubbish, in genuine politeness she had
no peer. She was an adept In its small
est code She never did a rude nor i'm
polite thing. Gentle. courteous. SYM
pathetic. her scrupulous regard for the
feelings and opinions of Others made
her the gentlewoman she was. Because
of this native politeness she had the
rare power of making everyone who
came within her influence appear to the
best advantage-she brought out the
best there was In them-a gift of which
she was perfectly unconscious.
AS might be inferred her friends con.
sisted of all sorts and kinds: high and
low. rich and poor, brilliant and stupid.
every one of them linked to her by the
strong bond of love. What queer
mixture of friends you have. equal to a
geological garden" commented one' OF
the variety. Yes. it Is true, and find
something to love In every one of
them And we! you, Of this circle OF
friends who may read these lines, how
much we found in her to love and ad-
mire. What sweet spirit she had: SO
gentle and tender, yet so strong to dc
and bear: so shrinking and free from
| self-assertion, yet pronounced in her
opinions and convictions: after she had
thought them through she held to them
as a matter of conscience.
In a character sketch of Mrs. Watres
"merry" is not a term that can be ap-
piled to her in it's remotest sense-that
one would judge from a glance at her
writings-but she did possess what one
might be slow to discover in these same
| writings, a rich fund of humor quiet
but deep. and keen sense of the ridicu-
| lous with power of description that
made her most entertaining talker
Stella" never conversed she simply
| talked. and in what musical cadence!
| If, as has been said, Gods choicest gift
| to woman Is sweet. soft voice, she
| was richly endowed, for her voice was
music itself. Soft, low-keyed and flex-
ible, it expressed her changing feelings
| and no matter how deeply they might
be stirred, her voice never grew loud OF
| lost it's softness, only the intonations
changed and her always delightfully."-
distinct enunciation became little
more distinct: nothing more. Her rip
pling laugh, neither loud nor long, har-
monized with the voice and both these
| with the gentleness of the owner.
She appeared at my door one bright
day, after an unusually long absence
| and was asked to give an account ot
herself. where have you been?" Hel
amusing reply was: Il have been al
home trying to live up to my epitaph.
Some months ago. as knelt by her side
in Scranton's beautiful city of the
dead" and noted the severe simplicity
that marked her quiet resting-place-sC
in keeping with her known taste-I re-
called her innocent jest, with tn,
thought, "Comrade mine! you need M
epitaph written here: 1t is in the hear
Of your friends" and I turned away
glad that in the journey of life m,
pathway had met and for a time rur
parallel with that of "Stella of Lacka
| wanna"
MRS. LILLE L. VAN NUYS.