The Falls City tribune., 1910-12-16

then continued, Aunt Emma Keeps
hers on the lower shelf and love
Aunt emma
1 remember how the tired little
face flushed as she poured forth her
childish Interpretation of life's lesson
in which the letters spell love and
gentleness and patience" and the sum
total to the problem is a merry hear
that doth good like a medicine" How
often by US older grown it is read
drought a glass and darkly-nothing
out of order, no dust non litter
these things are more to be avoided
than disappointing a child and free
access to a cookie jar means crumbs
you see.
How often I've seen children-mere
babies-look with wistful eyes at the
jars upon the upper shelf and turn
away disappointed for the things they
longed for and looked for and that
were dear to their childish hearts
were withheld and dealt out only
upon request and then sparingly and
with many an admonition that took
away half of the appetizing flavor.
Do you know | want to go to my
baby's room and kneel by her little
cot while | tell her, how in her sim
plicity she has taught me a great
lesson in human love-I shall never
forget it-a little child sat in the
taught them and a little child is
teaching yet.
The clock OH the mantle is striking
the hour, the cold of the night wind
is striving for entrance though door
and window crevice and my fire is
burning low, still the echoes tire not.
All, me,-from the midst of distant
years there ONE a picture-hazy
and indistinct as to detail, yet in
some respects as clear and vivid as
though it were but yesterday that |
saw it-an old stone cookie jar-al-
ways on the lower shelf see an
expectant baby face with tiny hands
out stretched-hands so small and
chubby that to grasp your finger
tests their capacity and the echoes
grew louder and more insistent as
they bring a chuckle of delight which
bubble forth when baby hands find
the good things within the jar,
smiles and dimples form a heart that
is satisfied.
A little rumbling and a sudden
Frightening of the fire startle me
from my dream-the baby is gone
by a strange force of mind and of
fancy he has become a school boy,
who has lain aside his childishness
for b~oyishness, but he still seeks the
place where the cookie jar stands.
Perhaps he emptied it when he
left, but that does not trouble him
nor stay his foot steps for one min
ute, he knows it is not empty now
he never found it so-it will be filled
with cookies crisp and brown, just
to his liking. as though some bless
ed fairy, anticipating his wants, had
mysteriously waved about it a magic
wand and 10, it was filled.
/ see him with his hands in the
pockets of his knickerbockers, his
cap back from the brown locks that
wouldn't curl; the flush of health
on his cheek and the loye-light of a
boy in his eye as he enters the door
and eagerly lays aside book and
pencil, the stern things of his life.
A whistle of assurance escapes him
when he finds the fulfillment of his
expectations and he feeds thereon to
his satisfaction.
The Goals slip with a thud, like
that of coarse earth falling into a ne
grave.
My boy has become a mantle sea
son of boyhood is so brief-with man.
hoods pride and strength written on
every feature, but the spirit of the
eternal boy snuggles within the
coat of the man, whispering and