The Falls City tribune., 1910-12-16
n LOWER SHELF
By MRS. ANNA REAVIs GIsT.

corner so peculiarly situated WIN
aecostic properties so sensitive anu
da1icate that the foot steps oil one
on echoed and re-echoed, until 1t
saamed that hundreds of people were
au. and il was a familiar past
.,,,e for those living near to ls'ei'
u,so thereon. wondering wheth-
the echo would never cease Whe1h
= might not be the tramp OF the
,eonle coming into their lives lha
hoard or the tramp of those
zane on before, for some were con"
NO some going, some hurryiing, som
taltering. some firm, some a meie
aatter. patter, some afar, some near
INT all in the distant street.
I've read that story often before
verv often-and always with interest,"
,,,t never with a keener dehght thah
this time, n as i"po
dawn lust now, the echoes seemed
To come into my room
All sounds of life are DEAD save
10 ,nceasing sobbing of the night
Wind as it sweeps over the fast WIFI
on;no world Without is a very
oold night too and I draw my chaif
o7oser IN the big open heartburn
q. blazing red Goals, with a u
- CRATE and a brass fender and a
d,aft of such suction that stray
s<raps of p held near, whiri
and eddy until in a flash they u'Sap-
rear into the capacious chimney
down which the winter storm means
and groans and shrieks and screams
as though it and the run away DIS
"a naner were chasing each other, hke
tho thoughts in my mind when the
night wind blows and solitude
Greens over the world. The flame
fitfully famed; plays hide ana
sock with the shadows, all other
lights are low and / am alone with
the echoes, and as they Whisper
and whisper, | dream and dream anu
dream. What a way they nave Oh
merry making when The night WIND
signs and they startle us with the
familiarity of their voices; they
sneak not always in the tone we have
latest heard, but as often in the
2 sound of "a voice that is still, one
whom we have "loved long since and
lost awhile" for you know every
house has two classes of tenants, the
ones who laugh and talk and work III
il and the ones who long ago fell
asleep in it and who came silently
back at an hour like this and whisper
in the accents that we know ana
that stir the heart, and so quietly
that the very silence is eloquent.
Which is more wildly present with Il
in our solitude, the one who sleeps
after a busy day, or II that sleeps
after a long busy life? Which one
enters the holy Of holys within us Of
tener and sets the echoes stirring?
The fire sputters and f%lutters and the
echoes answer which"
An hour age or more a sleepy little
form crept upon my lap and clasped,
about my neck, two chubby dimpled
arms, "a necklace of love" that ]
wouldn't exchange for gold or jewels
and she drozily said tell me a story,
mother"
I seem to hear the baby voice now
AID again to say, "A story? a story
Of what little d%aughter?'
oh of when you were a little girl
Ike me- and the echoes came like
a mighty host from the hazy hills
of long ago, and | told her the story
of the echoes, in which there were
little children like her, who played
together and sang together and trod
the beaten paths of the old orchard
together. where some of their sweet
est memories. like birds of bright
plumage, have built their nests, Whlci
hang weather beaten and brown
through all the years; and how they
loved the snow as she does and
watched for old Santa with the same