Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-11-08
THE ENTRANCE-A STORY OF A VISION

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and fern and flower with linen almost
like alabaster for a background. Miriam
stood with one slim forefinger on her
lip. the other nimbly counting places. Sud
denly both lip and finger faltered.
You've set his place. she said. softly.
II SO hoped you would" Her eyes. a mist
in them. flew again to the eyes in the pic
ture which hung. all evergreen-decked. on
the wall directly opposite the front door
way.
Il could not help it, today" said the
mother. wistfuly. Il know people might
say 1t was morbid. and would cast g.
shadow on us-his father would not let
me do 1t regularly. as 1 wished to. But
set it today. Even Lucy. who Is alwa.s
$3.50 sensible, said nothing
4 4
Anna spoke out. Il don't Think she
said, bIuntly, that one of us could eat if
Rods place were not there
Miriam slipped a hand in hers. To-
gether the three women. as close in spirit
the Marys at the Tomb stood gazing
at the beloved portrait above them. whose
every feature they knew by heart: the
broad. pure. still boyish brow. the great
darkgTay eyes ablaze with youth. merri-
rnenl ana nOpe-IndC mere udSn Oh water
could dim their iridescence forever-the
rich auburn rings of hair-each of the
women wore one on her bosom-the finely
chiseled. beardless lips with their curling
smile. Anna was a fainter replica of him:
deicately built looking more fairhaired
and pa,e-eyed in her black gown than she
had used to do in her bright ones. she had
been regarded as the baby of the Family
until the coming. two years ago. of little
Roger. Philips son, and her words in the
family councils were decisive accordingly.
She spoke again now.
Come upstairs" she ordered OF Mir
at the window with his back to every
thing. did not turn. There's nothing
more that O'Neill cannot do. We've
changed the time. Miriam. from to 10.
You don't mind. do you? 1t was one thing
in old times'-the phrase already seemed
sadly familiarized to her childish lips
ito spend three or four hours at the
1 don't see how we shall put in two!'
Shall we sing carols?" asked Miriam,
father family.
II don't know. / don't see how we can.
and l don't see how we can't. 1t certainly
won't seem Christmas without o Come,
All Ye Faithful We will see how we
feel when the time comes. There. do you
hear Rogers little feet overhead? Come
up and see him. Miriam. He's grown so
tall and remembers SO much. When he
saw the picture he said. directly, "Unka
Rod"
= The three of them left the room some
what lingeringly, with many a look be-
hind at the fourth. who made no motion
as though he heard. He stood for sew
dow at things he could in no wise
have named described. Men go
through life leaving so much of its gen.
tier and more human side to the women
that 1t is benumbing shock to them to
find in some heart-cleaving crisis that
there are emotions the women cannot
bear for them.
Then he pulled himself together, and.
with glance of his own at the portrait,
went upstairs and doggedly played at
with his grandson.
The Thorburns-mustered today eleven
strong, one less than last year-were such
an American family as one meets once in
while. perhaps lives next door to once
In e lifetime. Typical Of all that Is best
in our national life. with good blood
enough, but not too much: wealth enough.
but not too much; culture, sufficient to
soften. but no to enervate; they had had
every true advantage Of life including
sufficient contact with its wholesome ext
gencies to keep them smple-hearted as
peasants-or angels. Under the guidance
Of father and mother who continued to
increasingly fulfill their early ardent
ideals Of what fathers and mothers were,
happy. healthy seven-four boys and
three girls-not merely grew up. but liter
ally grew together,~in the big brownstone
house which had been middle-aged when
the judge and his wife brought their first
baby there. thirty years ago.
Il
Not often does family cohere quite
SO closely as they were unashamed to do.
At school it had been, ooh. those Thor
burn boys care only for each other" and
the same with the Thorburn girls. Mar
riage. and the leaving Of the home roof in
pursuit of divergent careers had not
strained the bond-it had only strength
ened it by bringing few more members,
delightedly received and loyalty loved. into
the sacred circle. Mother" and father"
were still the idols and oraces of their
children. Outside friendships held but
slight place where the tie of k1nship was
so all-satisfying. This may have mar
rOwed their lives a little but it deepened
and sweetened them immeasurably
There had seemed something unassaia-
BILE about the Thorburns. Year after year,
as they assembled at the old home for the
Christmas eve dinner which was a family
tradition. to the weary Hindu mother Of
legend they might have seemed the house,
hold of which she was so long in sorrow
full search-that in which none had ever
died. More. never fewer faces glowing
with youth happiness and prosperity ap-
peared each Christmas eve around the
great table; no voice was lacking from
the lusty chorus of Christmas hymns and
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