Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1899-1903, 1900-01-25

barking and the voices of women and
children; mother giving bread and
milk to her children in little wooden
basins and singing the evening song.
l like to see it all. / feel it run
through me. That life belongs to me.
1t makes my little life large. 1t breaks
down the narrow walls that shut me
in.''
She sighed and drew long breath.
Have you made any plan?' she
asked him presently.
YES" he said, the words coming in
jets, with pauses between; II will take
the gray mare. will travel first.
will see the world. Then will find
work"
what work?'
II do not know"
She made little impatient move
ment.
THAT is no plan-travel, see the
world, find work! If you so into the
world aimless, without a definite oh
ject, dreaming, dreaming, you will be
definitely defeated, bamboozled, knock
ed this way and that. In the end you
will stand with your beautiful life all
spent and nothing to show. They talk
of genius. 1t is nothing but this-that
man knows what he can do best and
does it and nothing else. Waldo" she
said, knitting her little fingers closer
among his. 81 wish l could help you.
wish could make you see that you
must decide what you will be and do.
1t does not matter what you choose.
Be q farmer, business man. artist,
what you will, but know your aim and
live for that one thing. We have only
centration. Wherever there has been
a great life or great work, that has
gone before. Taste everything little,
look at everything little, but live for
one thing. Anything is possible to n
man who knows his end and moves
straight for it. and for it alone. will
show you what mean." she said con-
cisely. Words are gas till you con-
dense them into pictures.
Suppose woman. young, friendless
as | am. the weakest thing on Gods
earth. But she must make her way
through life. What she would be she
cannot be because she is a woman, so
she looks carefully at herself and the
world about her to see where her path
must be made. There is no one to help
her. She must help herself. She looks.
These things she hasa sweet voice,
rich in subtle intonations: fair. very
fair face. with a power of concentrate
ing in itself and giving expression to
feelings that otherwise must have been
dissipated in words; rare power of
entering into other lives unlike her
own and intuitiye!y reading them
Alright. These qualities she has. How
shall she use thea?
IA poet,a writer needs only the men
tai What use has he for Il beautiful
body that registers clearly mental emo
tons? And the painter wants an eye
for form, and color. and the musician
an ear for time and tune. and the mere
drudge has no need for mental gifts.
But there is one art in which all she
has would be used. for which they are
all necessary-the delicate. expressive
body, the rich voice, the power of
mental transposition. The actor. who
absorbs and then reflects from himself
other human lives. needs them all. but
needs not much more. This is her end,
but how to reach 1t? Before her are
endless difficulties. Seas must be cross
ed. poverty must be endured. loneli-
ness. want. She must be content to wait
long before. she can even get her feet
upon the path. If she has made blum
ders in the past. if she has weighted
herself with burden which she must
bear to the end. she must bear the bur-
den bravely and labor on. There is no
use in waillng and repentance here.
The next world is the place for that.
This life Is too short. BY our errors we
see deeper into life. They help us"
She waited for awhile. "lf she does
all this-if she waits patiently. if she
never forgets her end, moves straight
toward it. bending men and things
most unlikely to her purpose-she must
succeed at last. Men and things are
plastic. They part to the right and
left when one comes among them NOV
ing in straight line to one end. l
know it by my own little experience"
she said. Long years ago resolved
| to be sent to school. 1t seemed thing
utterly out of my power, but l waited.
watched. collected clothes, | wrote,
took my place at the school. When all
was ready. T bore with my full force
on the Boer woman. and she sent me
at last. 1t was small thing, but life
is made up Of small things rs body is
built up of cells. What has been done
| in small things can he done in large,
shall be- She said softly. Waldo lis
| tened. To him the words were no con-
fesson, no glimpse into the strong.
proud, restless heart of the woman.
! They We're general words with a gem
eral application. He looked up into
the sparkling sky with dull eyes.
| YES" he said; but when we lie and
think and think we see that there is
nothing worth doing. The universe is
SO large. and man is so small
\