Bismarck daily tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, Dakota [N.D.]) 1881-1916, 1911-04-15
ASATURlRll]lAY
@I NIGHT
! SERMONS
BY
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FOUR FEET ON A FENDER

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FOUR FEET on A FENDER.
Text, Better is dinner Of herbs where
Dove 10 than q stalled OK and hatred there
with."-Prov. xv, II.
Twas Oliver Wendell Holmes who
said Happiness consists OF four feet
on q ender'-another way Of spelling
home. Understand, one can get con-
siderable pleasure" elsewhere, coarse
or refined. There's considerable graft
fication in a night Of fellowship with
the "boys" at the lodge. One may b
wildly hilarious At FUN factory at
Coney Island, but when it's all done.
after the last guflaw at the factory.
after, with more or less treacheroue
memory, you've sung AUD Lang
syne," then you start-homeward! Tho
cheap tinsel of regalia, the hollow.
ness of ritual, somehow crowd IN on
you. The trite saying Of the "suveriD
gran potentate' as he gave you good
night grip at the street corner, I'VE
can go home, Jim, when we can 50
nowhere else," strikes in still deeper.
TO Adam paradise was home; to you
home is paradise There the 'kiddies"
are; there 1.-The best woman God ever
made" greets you with face and eyes
bright as June morning. What do
the Chinese say? "a hundred men
make an encampment; it takes wo-
man to make a home" Any 1ndu-
ence that makes man think less Of
home is traitor to the man. The
strength Of the Republic is built on tho
American home. It's political SAFE
guard. No anarchy for the man with
a home. mo home means Goths and
yandals. It's the strength Of tho
church too. Hearthstones were LAID
before altar stones. To the true homo
angels might be invited to stay and
not find themselves amiss.
House Or Hems7
The worst tragedies are not enacted
on stage, but in homes. The divorce
courts indicate that Poverty trage0ee
In the little street back Of Us where
come actors suffer nobly rather than
beg. Tragedies in the big house on the
avenue" gilded prison houses Tor
women, infernos for men, chambers OF
horrors for children. Breaking hearts.
whitening hopes, maddening brains.
the crowd goes screaming by. No, all
the tragedy is not back In the little
street. But when poverty comes u
the door" doesn't love fly out the win
dow?" No, I've seen too many lovers
IN overalls and sweethearts IN g1ng-
ham aprons to believe that. When !
write book of fables the first one VIII
begin: "Once upon a time there was Z
house of poverty. But when the wolf
came to the door he turned away, foe
be heard them laughing and singing.
Home doesn't consist in things, but OF
hearts. A woman in magnificent pal
ace in Nebraska said to me, doctor,
the happiest days of my life were spent
In a sod house ten miles out yonder On
the prairie" She is now at Reno.
Homo ~ He'll.
Remember picture In Chilean Du1l0'
Ing at Pan-America exposition by Har-
ris entitled mo More Home" I can't
forget 1t. For the first time the young
husband staggers into that rich home
intoxicated. And 1t Is a rich home; no
tce the draperies. the pictures, Tho
furnishings. The baby's crib, which
the young mother prays may become
its casket, rocks to sleep innocence. 4
thousand things are worse than death.
The husband wears a flashing d1a-
mond, but lacks the diamond Of char
acter. See the roses dropping from the
vase, whitening, dying. See the roses
dropping from the wife's heart. With
ering, dying. The closed piano-music
is dead. The light is going out. mo
more home" God help those who i've
In homeless houses-houses where Z
h1sband gives black looks and vile
oaths; where a woman's sarcastic ana
pagging tongue drives q man to drink
quicker than snake bite; where lazy
son gives abuse and heartbreak In
stead Of gratitude; where a shallow.
thankless daughter believes 1t her chief
end and aim in life to dress swell and
marry a bank account and an auto.
as though happiness always Travelled
in touring car! Deliver NJ from such
a home! Close 1t up quick! Put up the
sign House For Sale" Better sit on
q stump Of a tree out in the woods
with an umbrella over your head and
call that home.
Home 40 Heaven.
The earthly home is only q type.
Philadelphia has 2S3.000 dwelling
houses-nearly home for each family
IA city Of homes" I'm my Fathers
house are many mansions" said the
homeless one of Galilee. Birds Of the
air had nests, foxes had holes in the
ground, but he had not where to lay
his head. John Howard Payne, who
wrote "Home. Sweet Home" was also
IN exile. like his master. In little
village graveyard tombstone to
mother has this homely epitaph: "She
Made Home Happily" Sounds like
Christ's "She hath done what she
could" A real home is surely a hap
py place built on the hilltop &C cheer