The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1911-02-10
THE FACE In THE FIRELlGHT


whistles outside and the hours slip bv.
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
OYER 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 be who has no memory
The smoke of youth curls about the
log as the fire of life struggles toward
fame. Boyhood comes back:
1 remember. | remember. the house where
l 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 it's way-we're astride a
mustang galloping over the prairie.
rounding up the cattle or in the for
ests Of Oregon lying drea ming at night
under the stars in lumber camp.
1.-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 ever
could get them right? Saturday came.
with those endless morning chores and
the all too short afternoons Of play:
Sunday. with memories Of the old
church. ''pertracted meetin's." weird
hymns and strange experiences. Out
from the haze and smoke Of that glo-
rious youth came stalwart young man
hood with neither pain nor ache
heart. stomach and lungs of perfect
machine. Vital days these-character
forming. mistakes made. never quite
righted yet Out from the fire come
the faces of visions and dreams and
loves and friendships. Ha. ha, the
world is young!
Flame.
Now smoke is gone, fame is bright.
log Of life is giving its blazing strength.
Days of strenuous manhood. these.
One moonlight night there's a repeti-
ton Of the sweetest story ever told
and soon the fragrance of orange bios
SONS. Happiest days Of your life. Sun
rises early, sets late. Then came a
cloud and from it's silver lining tiny
| immortal soul. The prattle Of that
voice was song memory through a
busy day. Who spoke of time with
leaden heels? Ho ho! Then came a
storm. low mutter of thunder, flashes
of heat lightning. You're on the wrong
road. Oh. the perils of middle age.
Then she who said flor better or for
worse proves an angel of light. And
troubles never come singly. Fever
comes and blows it's hot breath in your
youngest's face. The lights go out and
| you are in darkness. But God did not
leave you there. Mercy spoke. You
came out of it all with lower tone of
voice and some gray hairs. You stand
before the same altar you stood years
ago with ''her." It's pretty late to be
| turning homeward. Wife and children
started long since, but it's right, though
late.
Ashes.
| How low the fire is! The backlog is
crumbling to ashes. Must stir up the
embers That goldenrod in the vase is
turning silvery. Hear your sons chill
dren shout as they start chestnutting.
All. time was. You're not old, how
ever Adam was $50. Methuselah 969.
He, he! That's good one! You're
only threescore and-s-s-h! Tut. tut!
Queer how Judge johnson dropped
of. You were boys together. What
did the preacher mean in the ritual at
the graveyard-"ashes to ashes? His
widow said in her letter of acknowl-
edgment to you that she was ..livine
by the ashes Of dead fire" The en-
bers are dying out Faces are fewer.
They are old and age worn and so In
distinct But "her~ facets II a wear
since you murmured IT'LL death as do
part2 Her face In the freight IS as
fresh as certain June morning ii the
long ago. You quote:
And again feel the pressure Of hef sIen-
| der little hand
Az we used to talk together Of the future
we had planned.
The ashes are dead You take he
candlesfick-it's bedtime out into the
darkness OF the lonely hall. up the
Stairs to rest To awake In 4 new
morn
And with the morn those angel faces
smile ~ N "a
Which yon have loved long since ana ,ost
awhile