The Mena weekly star., 1909-04-01
LIVING TODAY THE LIFE of the GENERA TON of YESTERDAY
BY Mary Blackburn Wigstfand.

HE last time had the pleasure
 of sending message to my
 friends through the medium of The Star, wrote of by-gone things. Today write of people be- longing to a generation that is past, but who are alive and well and, what is more, are acting the part in life assigned them with bright, happy hearts. It is of an afternoon visit will speak "a visit to the home of an old lady of 94 years who lived with her daughter of 70 (her baby) in a little cottage by the sea.
 And such bright. cosy room it seemed as we entered Outside rain, cold wind. heavy fog; inside a huge fireplace piled high with drift wood that sent the most beautiful crimson, blue and gold flames up the spacious chimney. q was told it was the wood having been soaked with salt water that caused the brilliant flames.) A huge iron crane swung above the fire and suspended from it was an iron pot from which appetizing fumes of clam chowder were escaping. A large spinning wheel was in the corner and by the window was an old arm chair where sat the kind old lady who rose so quickly to welcome us. saying she did not hear our knock; her hearing was not so good as it was; she was beginning to feel old (beginning to feel old at 94 }, and while she talked the steel knitting needles flashed in and out of the bright yarn, and she explained that she had earned $150 this winter knitting mittens and socks for the sailors. for, she con- tinued,". those you buy are not fit for my men to use on stormy seas, when ice hangs from every rope and pole. They (the store kind) are foI those who play at seafaring. but spin my yarn out of the best woo and knit them double, and when they are out on the heavy seas after whales-my men and all my sailors were on the whaling vessels" shC remarked in an aside. 'The har Ipoon never slips from their hands because the fingers are cold. because they have on Grandma Beebie'' mittens.
 My man was lost at sea 70 year' ago and 1 had six little childrer looking to me for bread. The sailol lads bought this little house anC since then I've knit socks and init tens for their children and grand children. My lads have gone to SC; it calls all my men-and the can dle you see on the sill is lit eacl night-if not for them. for som' vessel that is trying to make thu harbor, and some woman is praying for husband, father and son just a l prayed the stormy night that m. good mans ship went down, bu (and her face lit up) that was ; long time ago. I've had a gooC home, good friends, never sick, ant the dear old sea has given me m. living, the sailor lads that come anc buy my mittens and bring me fisl and often leave few pennies on m! wheel to fill the pipe that has eve been such comfort to me all thes' years. What-you are not going 7 as I rose. Not until you have bro ken bread with me-"
 With that she opened an old-fash toned cupboard and disclosed blue delft dishes that would set an "an tiqe fiend" wild with envy. Taking down bowl she filled it with th' savory compound-and was it good It was fit for kingl They tell nt it was my walk by the sea. the fire light, the quaint room with it's vel more quaint occupant, that made il seem a dish fit for the gods, but don't know. l think it was just g part of a most harmonious whole that we meet but rarely in this life
 All about this simple home rushing automobiles roll over asphalt streets bearing the owners of anxious. rest less hearts, who alight to enter marble palaces where soft lights, low music and flowers make more alluring the hours spent in bridge. l" but for me the life of the old woman in her cottage by the sea, the home cheer that is so simple, the kindly