Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1911-10-03
SONG OF THE
RIVER REEDS.

Il was q cold gray day In the noun.
tains, and a 6ne mist was falling to
add to the discomfort Of things In gen.
! eral. The children were wandering up
the river bank. well wrapped up. In
the care Of their adored friend. Miss
Violet Rice. Now. Miss Violet was
really grownup young lady. but 80
friendly that the little folks soon for
get all about that. And so they often
sought her company and this morning
were out in her care. looking for pond
lilies. The bank was most unbeauu.
ful-soft black mud everywhere and
only dull gray water in place Of the
sparkling blue they loved so well
"As ifs any thing really nice could
grow here" whispered Bob. In disgust
ugh. I'm cold! Let's 80 home. Miss
Violet"
Miss Violet lowered her pretty eyes.
the color Of her namesake flower and
smiled Listen" she said. Those
big clouds over the mountain mean
more rain. and there's thunder. Il
must be old Rip Van Wrinkles elves
rolling their kegs about!
All laughed merrIly. and then little
Elspeth called out in delight. "Oh.
look. look there among the rushes-
beautiful white lily lying on the
very top of the muddy water"
There was more than one. and Bob
regretted that he had called the place
ugly as he ished for the flowers with
long stick. Holding the lilies by their
long stems. so like rubber. the little
party hurried home. where the wood
fire made things comfortable. even In
early August.
"Now for story" begged the chill
dren as they toasted marshmallows
over the embers. And Miss Violet
smilingly began:
"Bobs remark about the ugliness OF
the river bank made me think of one.
heard the wind playing among the
rushes and this is what its song said
to me: Once upon time there were
no pond lilies nor any lovely cattails
growing out Of the black mud OF
streams. No. indeedI There was only
sort of green slime over stagnant
pools and dead grass in the rivers.
Nevertheless the water did what 1t
could 10 be beautiful It smiled and
reflected the blue sky and sparkling
sunshine. and at night 1t reflected the
silent stars and the silvery moonlight,
which made mysterious path across
its surface. Swish. swish. sighed the
breeze through the grasses. You have
no beauty Of your own, o river You
but reflect the beauty Of sky and bank!
Whew, whewr moaned the wind
through the branches Of pine and will
low. You can only steal the loveliness
Of our reflection as We bend over the
bank, you copy cat Of a river Why
don't you have some beauty of your
ownY Now. It happened that the wind
and breezes did not approve OF the
songs they were forced to sing as they
swayed the trees and grasses. So they
hurried away to secret place In the
forest, where dwelt the great god Pan.
Now Pan was continually blowing
upon his magical pipes, which he could
only make from the reeds which grew
in the river. When he heard how the
river was being abused he was very
angry and hurried to the bank. When
there he cut fresh pipes from the tall
reeds and began PLAYING a wonderful
tune. AS he played the reeds changed
at the top and became the cattails you
love 80 we'll. And the blue iris sprang
up from the water itself, and there In
the midst Of the black mud lovely lilies
were blooming. So the river began to
have many beauties Of its very own.
besides being able to reflect all other
Ioveliness. This is the song / heard
the breezes singing among the river
reeds, and 1t should teach US that beau
ty can be found In the most dismal
places. and little folks can reflect the
smiles and kindnesses Of those about
them and so grow very beautiful them
selyes."-Philadelp Record