Keowee courier. [volume] (Pickens Court House, S.C.) 1849-current, 1908-06-03
LOSS AND GAIN.

VI Jul ShiiuuoVi is tlOSS lTTepaTaDIS.
Fortune may scatter the pearl Of pure
friendship all along life path Even
the aged have won utterly. the heart
of the young. 1t was wrinkled, gray
headed Naomi who grappled to her
soul the sweet spirit Of Ruth, SO
strongly that in the crisis-hour the
warm-hearted young woman said,
"Entreat me not to leave thee, or to
return from following after thee; for
whittier thou goest / will go, and
where thou lodgest will lodge; thy
people shall be my people, and thy
God my God; where thou diest will
die, and there will be buried" Let
no one mistake. The power Of form
ing firm friendship continues in true
hearted, tender people to age and
feebleness extreme. Yet the loss of
our early companions is beyond mea-
sure. 1t ends the sympathy and sup
port that began in boyhood and that
lasted through all ricissitudes till
the faithful heart ceased to beat. 1t
ends the outgo of the self-same SYM
pathy and support to our friend that
he gave us. 1t Is like tearing off an
arm on which we loved to lean or the
taking away Of one that loved to lean
on us. 1t banishes sunshine from
life, cheer from the heart, balm from
spirit. All, there are no words to
tell it.
Ye: there is compensation. The
| departure of a true and tried friend
| teaches lessons Of life that it is gain
to learn. We turn away from the
| grave of one so missed and mourn.
When a lifelong friend falls on sleep,
one more has vindicated manhood,
! womanhood. And what an inspira-
tion is the fiawless record of faith
full friend! The unsu'l'ed memories
| remain. We can recall the earliest
associations, when hand in hand we
| wandered over the hills, through the
villages. Sometimes the words of
childhood come back, the strange
ideas of life, the curious opinions Of
men, the high purpose for the future.
They were but visions-dreams-b
| they always meant something good,
never anything selfish or mean. The
very plays Of those days, when we and
| the world were all young, are remem-
| bered--the miniature farms framed
on the roadside and people with tiny
, scraps that stood for lowing herds OF
lneighing steed. We build them again
in fancy and the heart is young for
moment The little. experiences rise
up, the flight from vicious bird or
| beast, the overflowing rivulets cross
| ed, the dangers faced and difficulties
overcome. Intermingled with them
is the fact that the child was true to
us, and we are true to him.
Later scenes return. The school
days and their trials, the boyish strug
giles, in all Of which the two were as
one-the very sports ask remem-
brance. The life of young manhood,
of maturer days come so vividly that
it were easily possible to repeat the
converse on hard problems. Through
all is the golden thread Of unfailing
faithfumess.
1t is the character that was reveal
ed and so lifted all from common
place into value. And such charac-
ter goes into the most sacred place
of the soul to dwell there while life
and being continue.
| 1t helps one to stop occasionally
and let his memory run back to child
hood, when a barefoot boy, playing
in the brook, as the cows came home
from the meadow. So many happy
associations cluster about those good
old days, and the dear friends that
have long since gone to the great
| beyond; and then the dear old home
where we were reared. Home! that
is a charmed word; 1t calls up un-
told melody, the laughter Of children,
the sound of well-known footsteps,
and the voices of undying affections.
I see in the word the suggestion Of
boyhood and girlhood days, and the
shadow Of tender sorrows, and the re-
fiection of ten thousand fond memo
ries. Home! 1t seems to rise and
sparkle, and weep, and whisper, and
thunder, and pray. 1t twinkles like
star; it springs up like fountain;
it thrills like a song; it leaps like a
flame; glows like a sunset; sings like
an angel
And II the word Home should be
cast from the language. the children
\ ri nd ~ xt,f1d