The Wenatchee daily world. [volume] (Wenatchee, Wash.) 1905-1971, 1910-04-26

IL pdIlS, Luc perfume VI uiyTlduS Vi
fruit and flower blossoms steal in
and perfume the air in the room.
dark green, and with a luxuriant
growth. Just beyond is a row of
shade trees, tall, with wide spread
ing branches that cast their cool, in
viting shade far out as if in their ap-
parent effort to bless mankind. Then
comes long rows of fruit trees
stretching far away and up the noun
tain slope. Some are green with
leaves and some white and others
pink with blossoms. Here and there
are nestled and half hid from view
homes, some small and coy and
others large and pretentious with
colors to suit the whims of the own
ers. Ever on extends this panorama
only obstructed by the surrounding
mountains whose snow-clad peaks
glisten like diamonds in the sun
light. The long, wide boulevard by
the homes is decked on either side
with shady trees of various kinds,
colors and foliage. It's firm, smooth
surface is a delight to the travellers
and the pleasure seekers find here
their mecca. The automobile is seen
in all it's glory. Many makes, kinds
and colors. Their bright metal mir
rors the sunlight and dazzles the eye.
Their hum and whirr is bewildering
to the ear as they shoot by like ar
rows from bow. There are many
varieties of vehicles drawn by sleek,
we'll fed horses, the pride of their
owners, decked in gay harness, tas-
sled and silvered, seem as eager for
the fray as their proud drivers. They
stamp the earth with their feet and
leap into the air as If wishing to fly
in response to their bidding. Men
on horseback, children on their
ponies rend the air with their JOY
Gus shouts as they race by from
school and duty; weary footmen JOS
tie for their place as the dying day
calls them home. Now comes girl
and her lover. They loiter on their
way as if wishing the road was
longer. She picks red rose and
pins it to his coat. She picks white
one and places it on her hair, their
eyes meet loves glances of conf
dence and their hands are clasped in
friendship without alloy. She, the
pride of fond mothers heart and he
the solace of an indulgent father.
They walk on, oblivious of all around
them. The sad, sober, gay and fes-
tive, even the full moon and the
twinkling stars might as well not
have been there as there are only two
hearts in the wide, wide world. and
they beat in unison. Hey day of life
GROWING point for happiness from
which is the parting of many ways.
Another home nestles among the
green trees, around its broad porch
grow roses red and white, on the
green lawn rosy checked, bright-eyed
children romp and play, and the
proud parents look on and listen to
their shouts of joy. Again the cir
Gle is nearing its end. Gray hairs
and tottering steps mark the low dip
of the setting sun of their life's
course. The mother first folds her
hands and with a "God bless you" on
her quivering lips her spirit bids fare
well to earth and its charms and
crosses the silent river.
The father, with all that was pre-
cious to him now sleeping in her
peaceful grave, too, tires of earth
and they lay him beside his earthly
choice and pride; side by side as
they walked through life, red rose
in his lapel as was the white one in
her hair and no doubt across the river
they will loiter and deck flowers i'm
mortal to deck each others breasts.
On, on forever runs this endless
chain, ever and anon repeating. Life
filled with hopes fresh born and pure
as the morning dew, where fruition
at the closing day will be the golden
grain cleaned from life's harvest
fields. This is life-living, dying,
drinking earth's pleasures for a
, while, until the tick Of times clock
says: IT'S done and they have
lived a life" Others in turn will fill
the depleted ranks, loiter as did the
lovers, pick red and white roses,
| filled with hope for the coming day
as all life is full of expectant frui-
ton, little realizing how soon roses
fade and from loves enchanting
dream wake to realize that life's sill
yer lining is deceptive and hides
stern realities. Soon, too soon, the
kaleidoscope changes youthful dreams
like morning dew has vanished and
face to face they are to duty. Others
now crowd the streets and other low
ers linger along the way and pick
roses, red and white.
]. H. MUNROE.
April Is, 1910.