The Hartford republican. (Hartford, Ky.) 18??-1926, 1911-01-13

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dream the long thoughts of youth
But you cut It all and Himm--wsll
Hiram never really grew up. He Will
always stay boy and be content to
hunt and fish and dream his hfe
away. Who shall say which has chos
en- the more wisely.
In the death column there are
many names that are new TO you.
The new ones creep I'm now width alar-
ming frequency. But there is one name
not strange to your eyes. The
old minister who christened you, well
coined you into his flock when you
in the death of father, mother and a.
baby sister. has himself crossed over
to the Paradise Side of the River of
Death.
Prosperity success and pleasure may
be coarse In grain and fiber, but sure
rely sorrow is the tenderest thing
God has made Therefore, you see
no fulsomeness in the long and flow
cry eulogy written by, the little coun-
try correspondent and ending with
verse of pronounced originality, Ned
| Their do you smile-as Johnny, for in
stance void have done, TO see The
same amount of space given over to
the death of "old Dobbin," the doc
tors gray mare, who for twenty years
patiently allowed all the children in
the village to stick on his back TO the
end of his tail-where you smile to
remember, the littlest girl swung.
There is pity in forgotten things
Gone, that blessed old man, and he
would never know of the many inten-
tions on your part to send him a
box of such books that would make
his tender heart beat fast
"They are poor
That have lost nothing; they are poor
er far
Who, losing have forgotten; they
most poor
Of all, who lose and wish they might
forget.
life is one; and in its warp and
l wool
There runs a thread Of gold that
glitters fair
And som stimss in the pattern shows
most sweet,
Where theirs are sombre colors. 1t
is true.
That we have wept- But, oh, this.
thread of gold,
We would not have it tanish! Let
us turn
Oft land look back upon the Won
drous web.
And when it shineth sometimes we
shall know.
That memory is possession"
-Ingelow.
In unconscious abandon you fling
) your arms across the table and are
not at all ashamed of the tears that
mar it's surface. Your ugly bull pup
gets up from his place at your feat in
alarm at this unusual performance ON
your part and sticks his cold nose
into your lap to comfort you, and you
thus admonish his dogship
"A mans a fool to forget his old
home and friends for a few pa'ary
dollars-what good can they do since
they cannot buy you the few things
you really want. And you want, oh,
so much to wall around your boyhood
haunts; to skip rocks across the pond
to fish from its sunny banks; to
stand again on the old bridge and
watch the lights from the hill and
the boats melt in the water in a NOV
ing motion mass. You want to stand
there ON the bridge again witch the
back water rushing under you and
look towards the hilltop, where your
beloved dreamless sleapars are COW
red with a warm soft mantel of
snow this Chrlstmastide; to wonder
aimlessly down the street and bow
and smile to everyone you see-from
the Governor down to the new grocery
boy. who brought your potatoes home
3 last evening; to comfort the street
Car conductor with a warm handclasp
as he tells you. with working face,
that the httle bbay of his you used
Y to admire is dead to swing your legs
along with those of the other polith-
clans from some dry goods box on
: Main street and discuss Taft ard Ted
dy; to hang around the one book store
in the place. with half bhe other
inhabitants. and wait for tho NOV
: ing picture show to begin, and end
l all by patronizing the popcorn man
ON the corner and stroll home with
yOllr sWeetheart's hand comfortably