The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1901-08-22


you may be queen in it. Better be
there than wear queens coronet. Bet
ter be there than carry the purse of
princess. Your abode may be humble,
put you can by your faith in God and
your cheerfulness of demeanor gild it
with splendors such as an upholster-
er's hand never yet kindled.
The Most Queenly Woman.
When you want to get your grand
est idea of queen, you do not think
OF Catherine of Russia, or of Anne of
England, or Maria Theresa of Austria,
put when you want to get your grand
est idea of a queen you think of the
plain woman who sat opposite your
father at the table, or walked with
MIN arm in arm down life's pathway,
sometimes to the thanksgiving ban
quet sometimes to the grave, but al
ways ogether-soothing your petty
grlefs, correcting your childish way
wardness, joining in your infantile
sports, listening to your evening
prayers, toiling for you with needle,
or at the spinning wheel, and on cold
nights wrapping you up snug and
warm. And then at last, on that day
when she lay in the back room dying,
and you saw her take those thin
hands with which she toiled for you
so long and put them together in
dying prayer that commended you to
God, whom she had taught you to
trust-oh, she was the queen! The
chariots of God came down to fetch
her, and as she vent in all heaven
rose up. You cannot think of her
now without rush of tenderness that
stirs the deep foundations of your soul,
and you feel as much a child again as
when you cried on her lap, and if you
could bring her back again to speak
just once more your name as tenderly
as she used to speak it you would be
willing to throw yourself on the
ground and kiss the sod that covers
her, crying, Mother, mother! All,
she was the queen-she was the
queen!"
To the Ballot Box.
Now, can you tell me how many
thousand miles a woman like that
would have to travel down before she
got to the ballot box? Compared with
this work of training kings and queens
for God eternity, how insignificant
seems all this work of voting for alder
men and common councilmen and sher-
ifs and constables and mayors and
presidents. To make one such grand
woman as have described how many
thousand would you want of those peo-
pie who go in the round of goddess
ness and fashion and dissipation, dis
torting their body and going as far
toward disgraceful apparel as they
dare go so as not to be arrested of the
police, their behavior sorrow to the
good and a caricature of the vicious
and an insult to that God who made
| them women and not gorgons, ana
tramping on, down through a frivol-
| GUS and dissipated life, to temporal
| and eternal destruction. Oh, woman,
| with the lightning of your soul strike
| dead at your feet all these allurements
to dissipation and to fashion. Your
immortal soul cannot be fed upon
such garbage. God calls you up to en-
pire and dominion. Will you have it?
Oh, give to God your heart, give to God
your best energies, give to God all
your culture, give to God all yoar re-
fnement, give yourself to him for this
world and the next. Soon all these
bright eyes will be quenched and these
voices will be hushed. For the last
time you will look upon this fair
earth; fathers hand, mothers hand,
sisters hand, child's hand, will be no
more in yours 1t will be night, and
there will come up cold wind from
the Jordan, and you must start. Will
it be lone woman on a trackless
moor? All, no, Jesus will come up in
that hour and offer his hand, and he
will say: you stood by me when
you were we'll; now l will not desert
you when you are sick" One wave
Of his hand, and the storm will drop.
and another wave of his hand and
midnight shall break into midnoon,
and another wave Of his hand and the
chamberlains of God will come down
from the treasure houses of heaven
with robes lustrous, blood washed and
heaven glinted, in which you will ar
ray yourself for the marriage supper
of the Lamb. And then with Miriam,
who struck the timbrel by the Red
sea, and with Deborah, who led the
Lords host into the fight, and with
Hannah, who gave her Samuel to the
Lord, and with Mary, who rocked
Jesus to sleep while there were angels
singing in the air, and with Florence
Nightingale, who bound up the battle
wounds of the Crimea, you will, from
the chalice of God, drink to the souls
eternal rescue.
The Beautiful Home Above.
One twilight, after had been play,
ing with the children for some time,
lay down on the lounge to rest, and,
half asleep and half awake, I seemed
to dream this dream: 1t seemed to
me that was in far distant land
not Persia, although more than ori-
entail luXuriance crowned the cities;
nor the tropics, although more than
tropical fruitfulness filled the gardens;
nor Italy, although more than Italian
softness filled the air. And l wan
derd around looking for thorns and
nettles, but found none of them grew
there. And l walked forth, and l saw
the sun rise, and said. when will
it set again?" and the sun sank not.