The commercial. (Union City, Tenn.) 190?-193?, 1909-02-26
Beautiful Tribute 10 Mother.

II 4
win Robinson, the. 'Tenderfoot d
the Roswell N. Ne Register Tribune,
has written a touching and beautiful
tribste to his mother. He says;
Way down in the Ozark hills, where
the slopes are smiling in hazy blue,
where the fleecy clouds are thrown
across the ocean Of the sky like white
winged ships at sea, on the porch Of the
old log cabin, I can see a woman sit
ting, her toil-worn fingers busy with the
needles, and her clear blue eyes looking
away into distance beyond mortal Wis
ion. A holy peace is written upon the
placid face.
The voices of the children in the or
chard mingle with the humming of the
bees in the blossoming clover, and the
breeze sings happy song among the
madeira and morning glory vines.
Nowhere in the volumes written by
man is there such glorious figure Of a
woman, and her greatness is now no
more nor less that the years have flown,
i the old farm fallen into alien hands,
the log house crumbled to dust, and the
children that shouted in glee in the cool
| applied aisles are grown and scattered by
land and by sea.
Time can give no greater lustre to her
name, nor sounding praise accentuate
her virtues.
The crash and blare of fortissimo
passages in the melody of the world had
no meaning in her ample heart, for it
was filled with a music at which the
angels wondered and humanity little
knew. No beauty was hers, as the
world sees that quality in woman; short
of stature and with the calm phlegm of
of her ancestors beyond the sea, no
stretch of Imagination could ascribe to
her physical charm. Yet, though /
have travelled far, / have never known
her like in the beauty that grows like |
an opening flower, that woman on the |
porch of the cabin of long ago.
The seasons came and went and the /
melody of that soul rang on, soothing
tired children to sleep as the rain pat
tered on the shakes, dispelling as by
magic fancied ills, ever smoothing the
way for little feet, and pointing the
heart to the goodness which overhows
the world and the principle of right that
makes life worth living and points the
the soul to God.
| never heard her sing song or
chant a psalm, and do not believe she
ever did.
The reverence, the boundless love,
the all-absorbing tenderness, was with
in, and found outlet every day and ev,
cry hour, instead of in those ripples that
come from the shallower lakes in which
Gods image floats.
So there was strain that reached the
heart, when she laid the foundation of
the useful knowledge that proved so val
liable afterward, when she put courage !
in the gawky boy, trying his gifts for
the first time, when she cheered and
helped in the struggles Of young man $
hood, rejoicing in the triumphs, consol- |
ing in adversely, ever pointing upward
and onward to where the bright star of !
hope CLEANS and invites to deeper effort :
1t was her hand that closed the eyes of
the brood that have slept these many
years.
The memory Of her goodbye kiss
made temptation puny trial for the
lad who had broken home ties and
pushed out into the surge.
She it was who welcomed the lights
Of humanity when they were lit and
made it easy to slip the cables and glide {
out with the tide. At such
lines her smile was the benediction of 3
he inner prayer and the soul hungered a
40 more.
Without word she gave more COM I
Tort than the Sisters of Mercy. With +
'ut song she typifed grander SYM 4
ohony than man can compose or rem
Ter, and without sermon or reference
o Holy Writ she did more to uplift
hose who came within her zone than {
my great evangelist who has been born
# woman.
Yes. the world has its noble women | I