Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1899-1903, 1900-02-27

down broken, without one human crea-
ture to whom you cling, with your
loves the dead and the living dead;
when the very thirst for knowledge
through long continued thwarting has
grown dull; when in The present there
is no craving and in the future no
hope, then, oh, with benefcent ten
derness, Nature infolds you.
Then the large white snowtiakes as
they futter down softly. one by one,
whisper soothingly, REST, poor heart,
rcstw 1t is as though our mother
sm0othed our hair, and we are comfort
ed.
Well to die then, for. if you live, so
surely as the years come, so surely as
the spring succeeds the winter, so sure
ly will passions arise. They will creep
back, one by one, into the bosom that
has cast them forth and fasten there
again, and peace will so. Desire, am
bition and the fierce agonizing flood
of love for the liytng-they will spring
again. Then Nature will draw down
her veil. With all your longing you
shall not be able to raise one corner.
You cannot bring back those peaceful
days. Well to die then!
Sitting there with his arms folded
on his knees and his hat slouched
down over his face, Waldo looked out
into the yellow sunshine that tinted
even the very air with the color of ripe
corn and was happy
small learning and no prospect in the
future but that Of making endless ia
bles and stone walls. yet it seemed to
him as he sat there that life was a rare
and very rich thing. He rubbed his
hands in the sunshine. All, to live on
SO, year after year, how well! Always
IN the present, letting each day glide.
bringing its own labor and it's own
beauty, the gradual lighting up of the
hills, night and the stars, freight and
the Goals! To live on so. calmly, far
from the paths of men, and to look at
the lives Of clouds and insects, to look
deep into the heart Of flowers and see
how lovingly the pistil and the STA
mems nestle there together, and to see
in the thorn pods how the little seeds
suck their life through the delicate
curled up string and how the little
embryo sleeps inside! Well, how we'll,
to sit SO on one side, taking no part. in
the worlds life, but when great men
blossom into books looking into those
flowers also, to see how the world
of men, too, opens beautifully, leaf aft
er leaf! All, life Is deliciousi Well to
live long and see the darkness break
ing and the. day coming, the day when
soul shall not thrust back soul that
would come to it, when men shall not
be driven to seek solitude because Of
the crying out Of their hearts for love
and sympathy! Well to live long and
see the new time breaking! Well to
live long! Life is sweet, sweet. sweet!
In his breast pocket, where of old the
broken slate used to be, there was now
little dancing shoe Of his friend who
was sleeping. He could feel it when he
folded his arm tight against his breast,
and that was well also. He drew his
hat lower over his eyes and sat so mo-
tionless that the chickens thought he
was asleep and gathered closer around
him. One even yentured to peck at his
boot, but it ran away quickly. Tiny,
yellow fellow that it was, it knew
that men were dangerous. Even sleep
ing they might awake. But Waldo did
not sleep and, coming back from his
sunshiny dream, stretched out his hand
for the tiny thing to mount. But the
chicken eyed the hand askance and
then ran off to hide under its mothers
wing, and from beneath it it some
times put out its round head to peep at
the great figure sitting there. Presently
it's brothers ran Off after a little white
moth, and it ran out to join them, and
when the moth huttered away over
their heads they stood looking up, dis
appointed, and then ran back to their
mother. Waldo through his half closed
eyes looked at them. Thinking, fear
ing, craving, those tiny sparks OF
brother life, what We're they, so real
there in that old yard on that sun
shiny afternoon? A few years-where
would they be? Strange. little brother
spirits! He stretched his hand toward
them, for his heart went out to them.
but not one of the little creatures came
nearer him, and he watched them
gravely for a time. Then he smiled
and began muttering to himself after
his old fashion. Afterward he folded
his arms upon his knees and rested his
forehead on them. And SO he sat
there in the yellow sunshine, mutter-
ing, muttering, muttering, to himself.
1t was not very long after when En-
came out at the back door with towel
thrown across her head and in her
hand a cup of milk.
"Ah," she said, coming close to him.,
she is sleeping now! He will find it
when he wakes and be glad of it,"
She put it down upon the ground be-
side him. The mother hen was at
work still among the stones, but the
chickens had climbed about him and
were perching on him. One stood upon
his shoulder and rubbed its little head
softly against his black cuils. An