Connecticut western news., 1910-10-20
IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN
''Of all sad words of tongue or pen,
 The saddest are these 1t might have been.'"

The Sauu6SG dTo Gn0Se 1t might have been"
 How many shattered wrecks of life there are drifting through communities, apparently of no earthly use to them selves or to others. Their whole life seems to have been failure from one cause or another. Usually there is a reason for is. They started well. They had no greater handicaps than did others who began life's career with them, but i'm the running of the race they fell out by the wayside, some for one reason, some for another.
 To-day as they look backwa ard over the years that have passed, they see many things that had they done. might have led them to different goal might have shaped for them that which spells success, and the memories of what might have been and the knowledge of what is at times harrows their very soul.
 Memory makes half of life's heavens and seven+y-fve per cent. of life's hells. Memory is one of Gods most blessed gifts to man. Like all other gifts from the Creator it can be misused and abused and there are times when we would be willing to drop all memory of past bless ings if we could lose all memory of the things which we regret,
 With some persons bleak memories predominate, making discord in the soul that otherwise would never cease to hear heavenly hallelujahs and songs seraphic. The evil things may be the things of the far past, but memory in- vests them with living present.
 The skeleton in the closet takes on form too often and too plainly to be dis missed with the thought that it is only skeleton No scientist ever built up forms of ancient megatherium or mas todon, from a pile of unearthed bones more definitely and complete than does the memory put flesh and dreadful shape on bones that were buried, but which are ever and anon resurrected. '
 Many an one carries around q chamber of horrors in his or her memory. Sins of the past are there, in size prodigious, in shape terrific, with ghastly eyes, with voice tormenting. Little by little, slowly, surely, we learn that the pleas anter sin of moment may be the &C., cursed memory of life time.
 We are storing up memories day by day memories of duty done or duty neglected of opportunities improved or opportunities lost of temptations re- sisted or temptations that conquered us; of words uttered by us that were holy benedictions or cruel anathemas.
 The one kind finger in our recollection, singing their song of peace and gladness; the other kind have voice that goads us to madness and despair. No soul has a right to do to- day that which it will have cause to remember with regret to- morrow or through thousand sto-mor- rows.
 Wise is that soul which by words of love and purity and timely marks of righteousness stores up thousand echo ing bless you's" from it's fellow mor- sals. Happy is he who, through deeds of love and self f-saoriice, of courage and virtue, of rectitude and goodness, treas ures up memories that shall cause his heart to glow all his life long with grat- itude and praise to God on high
 There is no blasted heath so bare. no desert of Sahara so terrifying, as the memory rank with horrible recollections that one would annihilate if one could, but which elude destruction as ghost does 8 sword thrust.
 There are no greener spots of life than the memories of grace vouchsafed and used to resist the tempter, or to commun- ieate blessings to others.
 His Nasal Obligato.
 "Mr. Skimmerhorn," inquired the landlord, show did you sleep last night?"
 CT ilro O fon answered the guest