The Hattiesburg news. (Hattiesburg, Miss.) 1908-1917, 1911-02-11
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THE FACE In THE FIRELIGHT

heart warming about that picture OF
Tx Marvers in 1.-THE Reveries of a
Bachelor" AS night approaches he
has a huge pile of oak and hickory
beside the hearth, snuffs out the tai
low candle, draws up his chair, sets
one foot on each side the iron fire.
dogs, lights his cigar and watches the
faces in the freight He sees
sweet faced girl, bit of lace running
around a well chiseled neck, the hair
parted to charm over a forehead
fair as any dream. He reaches over
and clasps a hand of tapering white |
fingers lying temptingly within reach ,
and talks soft and low IN the presence !
of the blaze while the winter wind |
whistles outside and the hours slip by. |
Here, too, in this text sits David. with |
his hand resting against his forehead,
his door shut against the world, lost
in remembrance Of pleasant days. Not
many men and women but would be
richer to stop now and then and live
over old times, with just enough
clouds in the sky perhaps to make
beautiful sunset memories.
| Smoke.
While we muse the past comes troop
ing through the halls of memory. NO
man so poor as he who has no memory.
The smoke of youth curls about the
I log as the fire of life struggles toward
fame. Boyhood comes back:
I remember, / remember. the house where
I was born.
The little window where the sun came
peeping in at morn.
With the sunrise came also the great
hopes and aspirations of youth-the
dreams of the sea. pirates. treasure
islands, strange shores with monkeys.
parrots and barbaric chiefs, or it's
westward the course Of our mental
empires takes its way-were astride
mustang galloping over the prairie.
rounding up the cattle or In the for
ests of Oregon lying dreaming at night
under the stars in lumber camp.
"The thoughts of youth are long, long
thoughts" How prosaic are the school
days! How puzzling are the prob
lens of yards of carpet for room SO
! many feet square, the rolls of wall
/ paper for a room of certain dimen-
! sions, making allowance for SO many
windows and doors, and the plus and
minus signs Of algebra Who evel
: could get them right? Saturday came
h with those endless morning chores an6
d the all too short afternoons OF play
|, Sunday. with memories Of the OH
, church. ''pertracted meetin's," weirt
. hymns and strange experiences. GU
from the haze and smoke or that gio
rious youth came stalwart young man
hood with neither pain nor ache
heart, stomach and lungs of a perfec
q machine. Vital days these-characte
II forming, mistakes made, never quit
righted yet. Out from the fire com
/ the faces of visions and dreams an
? loves and friendships. Ha, ha, tn
q world is young
Flame.
Now smoke is gone, fame Is brigh
log of life is giving its blazing strengtl
Of DAYS of strenuous manhood, thes
ne One moonlight night there's repet
ed ton of the sweetest story ever to-
~ and soon the fragrance of orange bio
n SONS. Happiest days of your life. Su
lis rises early, sets late. Then came
of cloud and from its silver lining a til
~ immortal soul. The prattle of TIL
EN- voice was a song memory through
b" busy day. Who spoke Of time wi
or leaden heels? Ho, no! Then came
Is, storm, low mutter of thunder, fash
ID of heat lightning. You're on the wroI
OF road oh, the perils of middle ag
eh Then she who said ''for better or +
re- worse" proves an angel of light. Al
al troubles never come singly. Few
in comes and blows its hot breath in yo
ire youngest's face. The lights go out al
en- you are in darkness. But God did
leave you there Mercy spoke. Y
ne came out of it all with lower tone
voice and some gray hairs. You stal
ne before the same altar you stood yea
enl ago with cher" It's pretty late to
ed turning homeward Wife and childr
tn started long since, but it's right, thou
late.
ter Asbas
ol How low the fire is! The backlog
ne crumbling to ashes. Must stir up t
. embers. That goldenrod in the vase
turning silvery. Hear your sons cf
dren shout as they start chestnuttir
All, time was! You're not old, no
70 ever. Adam, was $50, Methuselah 81
- He, hel That's good one! You
only threescore and-s-s-h! Tut, II
10 Queer how Judge johnson dropp
off. You were boys together. WI
did the preacher mean in the ritual
- the graveyard-"ashes to ashes" T
\ widow said in her letter Of ackno'
~ edgment to you that she was "hvi
- by the ashes of dead fire." The
bers are dying out. Faces are few
They are old and age worn and so
distinct. But "her" facets 1t "
a since you murmured "till death us
part" Her face in the freight is
fresh as a certain June morning In
long ago. You quote:
And again feel the pressure Of her 81