The age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1897-1902, 1902-04-13

is vanity" was forgot. History, human
history-all was history to the young
FINALLY finding my way to the ancient
gates of the royal chapel, the faithful
verger awaited me, smiling in possession
of the gold-piece. The great grim gloomy
old Westminster was closed, and he con-
Quoted me to the little side-door opening
from the Poets Corner, a door in which
l was to linger a hundred times in the
after years. AS he fitted his key to the
lock he said solemnly, 1--WE are In the
Poets Corner" I placed my hand upon
his arm, but spoke not. lie withdrew
his key, and lighting taper turned to the
right-millions of men and women know
that little door and that turning to the
right but to me at that hour and in those
circumstances the situation was so thrill
ing and the sensation so enthrallng that
l of the Alabama fields trembled like a
child.
The verger led me a little way, neither
of us speaking, until we came to a slab
in the ancient wall. There he stopped
short and looked at me, holding the taper
close to the time-eaten slab. 1 bent low
to read, and discover that I stood by
the grave of the jester poet Gay. Bend
ing lower I read upon the stone those
lines I had read in books. and a hundred
million of my fellowmen had read before
Gays own self-written epitaph:
Life is jest and all things show It.
L thought so once and now l know It,
Instantly 1 recalled the praying ones
whom had seen at the shrine of Saint
Edward, and involuntarily 1 whispered
This Is a ie'
'Aye-aye, sir--Gods mercy upon u.s."
said the verger in low tone, as II pray
Ing; and he seemed to steathily make the
sign of the cross. I sought his hand and,
he led me to the door, and goodnight"
I'd Journey over the sea to shake the
hand of that cid verger now. But long
ago he passed to the Master under the
sign of the cross.
Vanity of personal appearance is al
ways comical, because it is so palpably
silly. There can be about it nothirg that
is pathetic, nothing that appeals to SYM
pathy or com misteration, nothing that in
cites tender or helpful or hopeful i'm
pulse. The peacock, peahen, popinjay-
these are ludicrous.
But there are other forms of human
vanity that appeal to the tenderest SYM
pathy of the human heart, more espe-
cially when women are involved Take a
woman with a dollar skirt longing and
yearning for the place of the woman in
front of her with a fifty dollar skirt, and
you have something. more than the pa
thos of vanity. you have tragedy. Take
the woman of the poor III her mental at
titude toward the woman of the rich, and
you have vanity that wrinss the heart
And in the effort OF the woman of ad-
vancing years to paint herself down to
the rosy blush Of maidonhood you have
the most rorrnful and pitiah!e quality OF
humanity, Tor nothing else IL the whole
range of social life is so appealing in It's
pathos as painted woman upon whom
the years are begun to rest heavily. Her
painting Of her own faded cheeks is van
ity most inordinate, but how mournful
With tire vanity that relates to social
position everybody is moro or less famil-
iar. 'lIow we apples do swir1!" and how
other apples try to swim-how the newly
rich try to lord it over the old poor, and
how basely they seek entrance 10 that
society which does not pick its teeth with
the table forks. How pulled up are the
ounces of the dollars and how their
hearts break and bleed in knowing the
contempt which honest folk rich and poor
alike feel toward them
Here in Washington one sees the vanity