The Montgomery advertiser., 1905-12-17
"Memory Spans the Past and Hope"

I And soften in the old familiar way. l For who could war with dumb. uncon- So. might rest. forgiven of all to- utEht! | I had written this far when I heard the cheerful voice of a child crying Christmas is Coming! Christmas is comingp' And rest my pen and think. The child is my little grandson. heard the same cry from my children; the same cry from my brothers and sisters when ms voice, in the long ago, helped to swell the cry, and l travel Once. when a mere child. passing | through my mothers room. when the dear saint was talking to some friends, heard her say Memory spans the past and Hope" I didn't hear the ending of the sentence. T Knew hotn- ing then of Memory but know now that it is the blessed store house of the mind in which are gathered and cher iShed words and faces and scenes, from which, at any moment. can be brought forth, for our delight. a pleasurabie nanorama of the past. And sos gather ing my more than three score years m a span, I think of the Christmas time of my childhood. my boyhood, my young manhood and all the later pe- riod-and it was always a happy, Joy ous time veil, like Charity's kindly
  not pleasant and the Panorama is de- lightful.
 never was a good hand to tell a | story, but believe I'll try my hand for once. It was the night oetore Christmas and Santa Claus was doing his best for me. l had gone 70 o.sy on the coast to make final arrange ments about a life partnership. Ne gotiations. by mail. had been pending for some time with party or the sec ond part who. no sooner than the contract was fully entered into claimed to be the head of the firm.
 Rut on that night. we were having l a conference and. though she made un- i successful attempts, for some time. 10 | hide that "Barkis is willin -" she nnai- ly "confessed the corn" that was all her fancy painted me-" that l was to her. the "chief among ten thousand | and altogether lovely"
 I told her had read in novels. that | a seal was the usual thing for such | confession and forthwith offered my | services But she declined. putting up | such reasons as Catherine of France did to England's Harry. So 'T argued the matter with Betsy. And she arr gued the matter with me-" till she saw if AS I did q was good in argumeno and then I got her to make the con tession again (for I liked to hear it) and then--"'Twas the night before
 
 Past"
 "nld age has come-we're happy yet!
 And time sings on his oft told knell; But that dear spot we'll ne'er forset'
 Of early VOWS.
 tell this story with a great deal of trepidation and hesitation for 1t Is dis puted at home and discredited Tn every circle of married women. with the com ment: There's no use of confession when a man can lie like that.
 Well, after awhile
 began to represent the benevolent character of the beautiful myth that has so long brought cheer and happi- ness and joy to expectant children.
 Oh! Christmas Is the time for happy time of rejoicing. of pleasure giving. of reunions. of forgiveness. of Peace on earth-good will to mem"
 And, in this frame of mind I go to see my old friend (and yours) for he is in trouble with an inexpressibie sorry for him in his loneliness and broken -heartedness. And go to talk with him, for words fitiy chosen some times
 "wrn close up S. the gaps in a fresh That sickness and sorrow have severed
 apart.
 He has been a man of positive. strong convictions and somewhat intolerant of opposition, and had way of making 1t hot" for those who disagreed with him. My politics was peculiarly ofren- sive to him but he had learned to hu- nor me and we could travel the dan gerous ground of disagreement with out danger of strained relations.
 But now he is bowed down. Not long ago his wife, who had travelled hand in hand with him, sharing with him the joys consoling with him in the sorrows of more than fifty years. was weary, laid down to rest and the angel kissed her to sleep.
 Far away she's blooming in fade
 less bower"
 He is lonely now and his memory
 spins the past" |,
 go to him while he is burdened and he tells me, with tears and pain Sweet prospects,. sweet birGs and
 sweet flowers
 Have all lost their sweetness to ma"