The Intermountain Catholic. (Salt Lake City [Utah] ;) 1899-1920, 1908-12-12
HOME.
written for Intermountain Catholic }
BE 1t ever so humble.
There is no place like home"

, BE ii ever so humble.
There is no place like home"
So sang the poet, and we thoroughly
agree with him. When we hear that
song sung, especially If we are among
strange scenes and stranger faces a
|. yearning arises in our hearts for a
sight of the old rooftree and the kind
and dear friends that we can never for
get. 1t is there we spent the happiest
days of our lives. When the time comes
for many Of us to leave ii. we said our
Goodbye' with a sad heart The ten
DER recollections of our childhood the
ideal hopes of our boyhood, a fathers
guiding voice, mothers gentle touch,
all these still cluster around the old
roottree for us, and though today we
may have new habitation in d strange
and, amid strange faces and are happy
and content there, still the deep. strong
love for the old home can never be OBJ
liberated from our hearts.
1t is the mark of all good men to feel
so, to love their home, wherever it may
be, and however humble it is and he
who feels not so, WE'LL there is some
thing radically wrong with him.
In home, there exists a calm, holy
peace, that exists nowhere else outside
of heaven. The lord in the senate the
merchant in his shop, the clerk in his
office, the miner delving for ore, and
all such like men, when the labors and
turmoil of their days work are over,
HE home as fast as they can, for they
long for the rest, the soothing calm,
that is found there.
Oh, how happy a good man feels when
ne hears the prattle of his innocent
! ones around him, and the sympathetic
voice of faithful, loving wife attendant
TO his every want! During the day he
! had OF face a busy, a selfish world that
would crush him without pang of re-
morse if it could. He had to be os his
guard as to what he said and did. for
! the cold, Implying eyes of men were
upon him, and to none could he give his
! confidence. But in the evening, when
that man reaches his home he casts
aside all this reserve with his boots.
Now he can romp and play with his
children and not seem ridiculous; now
he can give his confidence, tell the joys
and sorrows of the day to his dear Wife
and receive from her a sympathy. an
encoura cement that Is as sincere as II
is loving.
All, what a solace, a charm, home Is
to good man! And yet, how sad it is
to think that many, very many love
not home
Just open your eyes and look around
you, and you will see men hurry home
when their days work is over and hav-
ing eaten hasty meal there HE off
again to the theatres the music halls |
the club houses and the beer saloons.
Dearer, far dearer, to them is the
coarse, loud, indicate conversations of
the tap room to the innocent prattle of
their children. They much prefer the
society of gay and loose companions to |
the company of a loving wife. See that
father at the counter in the beer shop. |
He raises the sparkling glass, the glass
Of poison, and fondly gazes at it. In |
the days of pagan Rome, we read with |
a shudder of pity how the gladiators |
were compelled to pass before the Ro- |
man emperor ere they engaged in dead |
ly combat with those words upon their |
lips: Hail, great Caesar, hail! We
who are about to die salute thee"
And that father raises the glass of |
poison to his lips and, fondly gazing at |
1t. says implicitly: Hail. most potent |
drink. hail! You who have deadened all |
love Of home in my heart. you who have |
blasted my affections for wife and little |
ones. you who have taken away all my |
substance, the hard earnings of life |
time, you who are sending me to an |
early and dishonored grave, hail, hail!
salute thee!"
Out there in Utah, away in the heart
of the Rockies. the bear plods and |
searches for food for the cubs, and hay-
ing found 1t hastens back to her den. |
See how the cubs welcome her, see how |
tenderly she feeds them, and having |
fed them she gathers them closely |
around her, and beneath the warmth |
of her shaggy sides they rest content |
and sleep in that de (which is their |
home. There with her eyes half shut
blinking in the moonlight, she watches |
over them, and if any of the cubs grow |
restless, she brings him more closely to
her. Yet that animal who is so kind, so
watchful over her young. men dread and |
call a savage animal. Ye undetermined, |
serious, earnest men of America, you
who love your homes, wives and little
ones, 1 ask you this question:
Which in your opinion is the more
noble-the drunkard, the gambler. or
those men, be they what they will, in
whose heart the love of home with all
its tender associations is dead?
hear you answer with a loud and
unanimous voice. The bear"
For my part. 1 would be sorry to
compare for one instant the bear to
such. And the stay-away from home
not only spends his own substance, not
only ruins himself mentally, physically
and spiritually, but he blights the lives
of his wife and little ones. Just you
watch that mans boys, as sure as night
follows day, so sure will those boys fol-
low in their fellows footsteps, unless a
miracle intervenes.
When they grow up, home and the ,
love of home will have no place in their
hearts. No. Give them the glare of /
the footlights, give them the fasclna-
tons of the club houses and gambling
nails, give them the sparkling spirit in
he glass, that sparkles but to kill, give
hem the coarse conversation, the i'm
modest jests of gay and loose compan-
ons, give them all these, such things |
Ire their ideal as they were their IA
hers before them. To them, home is
tut a place in which to sleep for a few
hours in the morning. The wife that
hey will marry in a few years is to be
,ut a slave, to pine and fret her life
way, looking vainly and looking for a
owe, a companionship that will never be
lers and the children, ah, unless, as ! |
lave said, miracle intervenes, write
lot their fate in ink, but in-blood.