Staunton spectator and vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1896-1916, 1910-07-01
VIKING and /.
By elizabeth Glidden Wood.


son will begin. There will be euchre
end bridge whist and kaffer klatches
and a general exchange Of conf
denees that will exceedingly enliven
those who have not passed the sum-
mer on the other side. The tints of
life will be deepened, and the little
riffs which have made for unhappi-
ness will disappear and be forgotten.
Ambitions. small and great, will
a cain awaken, and unless all signs
fail, the way of the transgressor will
be hard.
An old stager like myself, who has
fought her own battles through many
a tempestuous year, who can ride
rough shod over most things that get
IL her way, who can tell a hawk from
a handsaw when she has to. never
bankers after bicycle built for two.
and never worries over what John
will say when she buys a bonnet.
True, there are times In the twi-
light. when l get to thinking as we
sit by the fire, Viking and with
my pot of tea. And say to Viking
MY boy. you are growing old.
Sooner or later you must leave me,
and what shall / do then?'
Viking looks up at me with his
soft brown eyes as he rests his nose
on my knees, and l pat his head
musingly, forgetting what is and
what has been until a monitory poke
brings me back to the tea and the
fire and to Viking, and say as
cheerfully as can
'sWe won't cross that bridge till
we come to it, will we, my boy?'
We have grown old together. 1
understand Viking and he under
stands me. and though the Past saw
by. the freight held many pictures in
which he had no part, his true dog
friendship has frightened my path
way for many year.
can never get another Viking.
And now Mrs. Gerald Devoe With
erspoon has come blackjack to
bridge and euchre and coffee-to
heart burnings and envy, to gayety
and gossip, to fuss and feathers and
furbelows-and what is more than
all, to the undisputed leadership Of
"our set. -
Mrs. G. D. w. has attained her
present position at the cost of con-
siderable effort. But there are 9TH
ers. As soon as an east wind touches
Mrs. w (G. d. she will SILVER and
wilt, and when the south wind comes
back there will be another set and
another leader and another leader to
the old set. And some will say, who
is Mrs. w. &c. d. y" And the sad
thing will be that Mrs. w. g. ID
will not know 1t until her crown Of
leadership Is forcibly removed She
will reach up for her laurels and they
will not be there. Her tears will
avail nothing, nor will her signs
touch the obdurate hearts of those
who followed in her train when the
soft south wind famed her brow.
The sun may beat with unrelent-
Ing fervor upon my head and l say
the shadows will fall at evening. My
midday guests make merry over my
prosperity, but Viking and l sit alone
In the twilight, and when the black
night Is upon me and the storm
threatens my leaky roof.
What blessing to forlorn old
maid Is q faithful and loving dog.
Never once has my hand been raised
against Viking and never once has
his heart turned from me- Never has
he failed to greet me joyously at my
coming or sorrow when l said my
short farewell, and never have l
failed to be thankful for his watchful
care and the great, warm heart that
beats under his shaggy coat
Viking is not waiting for me to
Gle that he may have the little I
leave behind. But II Viking should
die first my tears would fall and my
heart be sad for many days, for I
should have lost my best friend.
should raise no stone over his
grave, for 1 bethink me of the origin
Of the tombstone. l remember that
long after the cave men had passed
Into the darkness, there came others
and still others, each generation
more and more civilized than the
one before 1t, until thought came, in
q measure, to take the place of ami
NAL appetite.
The human race began to bury its
dead with forms and rites. The
mound was no longer solitary, and
the cairn or rude pile of stone gave
place to the rough stone. Then some
body smoothed and carved the rough
stone and placed on the shining sur
face q craven record of virtues that
never existed in the heart of the
sleeper below, and sentiments that
the dead man never knew or felt
when he was alive.
And the reason of 1t all lay not in
the loving heart of the bereft relict
but in the trembling fear of those
who were left behind-the fear that
was the origin of the tombstone. II
you have never thought of the mat
ter search the records and you will,
find that the reason why your
friends or your ancestors friends
placed a stone OVER their, dead was
rot as mark of respect, but to en-
sure the living against the return Of
the departed-literally, to keep him
down. So when you see a monument
that towers high and massive, you
may say to yourself
Poor shade! How very anxious
your former friends must be that
you shall never again come back?"
How brave we are! How warm
end true are our friendships! How
becoming is our mourning, and when
we go into mitigated grief what
lovely shades of heliotrope and pur-
LIE we will wear!
prefo~ vikir~
Those Pies Of Boyhood.
How delicious were the pies of boy