The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1908-02-15

4
To come from the beauty of out
doors into the average environment Of
the usual house is to go from nature
into the grave. In the country, more
than elsewhere, nature challenges
you.
When we sat in these rooms either
by night or day we were alive to their
joy, and reveled in them. The song
of the morning robin, the redbirds
sweet-throated sly whistle, the thrushs
mating song, the call of the freebooting
| jays, the sad note of the phoebe bird
that built on the east porch, the cav
OF the wandering crows, the baritone
trumpet of the wild geese flying north.
the moan of winds in the chimney
| tops, the crickets in the grass, the sig
nal of the rain crow" the plant of
the tree toads, all these myriad chords
| and cries of outdoors reached us from
time to time what little space we
stayed indoors; and even when the
storms blotted out the landscape, or
whirling SHOWS beleaguered the farm
with piled drifts and bitter winds, our
rooms were balm to the soul, as much
a part of our very life as the coal that
tempered the chilling blasts, or the
bread appeased our hunger.
For stifle or try to kill it as we may,
there Is in every man and woman's
heart real hunger for the beautiful
Sometimes the most sordid and besot-
ted natures are touched by color, mo-
ton, or music. l defy you to find, for
instance, a woman who is not a lover
OF flowers. Drag her in the slime of
the cities, debase her by years Of toll
and neglect, and somehow the bruised
soul will lift and long at the sight of a
road side blossom, spray of apple
bloom. 1t is so with many men. Not
the sickly sentimental either, but men
Of deeds and both mental and physical
strength.
And however this cardinal principle
Of beautiful home is neglected, it is,
nevertheless, a potent influence wher.
ever 1t is seen. l shall never forget
the remark of my blase hut thorough
ly staunch and good friend who first
stood in our rooms as the sunlight
came in, gliding the frames with a
mellower gold, lighting up the SYM
phonies of form and color that made
of the whole an almost perfect picture.
With his hands outstretched, as though
invoking a Pagan benediction, his ex-
clamation was, Lovely. lovely, my
boy; wake me after awhile, there's
good fellow"
have given all this particularly Of
detail to our home because it was one
of our many enthusiasms 1t was part
of the beauty with which we were sur
rounded. Neither Cecile nor myself
has ever comprehended the careless
ness of most men and women in the
designing, furnishing and adornment
of their homes. Some houses seem
as If the occupants had just moved in.
Always this sense of ''cluttered-up"
disorder; always the impression of an
overlooking of the walls, and a crowd
ing of the rooms. In some dwellings. |
again. there will be an unnatural bare
ness; in some total lack of proper.
ton. and an unnatural stiffness.
Still, all these things can be RENE |
died by thoughtful study of effects, |
and genuine enthusiasm for results,
and II Americans really desire to find |
the ignis fatuus of home life" they |
should begin by trying to make their |
homes beautiful, as we'll as water
tight.
We were as careful about the yard |
and the surroundings as we were
about the house itself / moiled val |
iantIy with dull scythe, to keep the
grass from getting too long and rag
ged. trimmed the rose bushes and
nailed up sagging fence pickets, kept |
the lawn free from scraps of paper,
and CeciIe trained the morning glory
vines about the porches, planted flow-
ers in every nook and Granny of the
yard, and watered them faithfully
when the rains became infrequent so
that our entire circle of grassy envir.
was ablaze with color, and
blurred by the hum of voyaging bees,
or lit, like sudden flame, with the
wings of lowering humming bird.
Lenore, although only baby, had
already begun to notice the pictures.
and was instantly passionate devotee
of the flowers. Each bud or bloom
that she mastered the name Of was
and delight to her. The white
and red clover OF the country roads.
the wild roses with their fragile leaves
and haunting perfume were sought by
her industriously. The wild flags that
grew at some wayside pool drew
shrieks of gladness from her childish
throat.
Through the flowers she learned the
different colors, and. remembered from
time to time the different trees, until
she could tell them by their peculiari-
ties, one from the other. For us all