Forest City press. (Forest City, Potter County, D.T. [S.D.]) 1883-19??, 1912-12-27

WITH CHI
From Free Text Books In the Point
OF View.
How often. in my childhood. when
the evening hut US in to the cosiness
IF the family sitting room. and we
Gathered about the table n the big
lamp. when checkers and dominoez
had ceased to>be exciting. some inspired
member of h group suggested. Lets
read in the Reading Book!"
And then we CHOSE" and read aloud
u favOrite pOems-it was always the
poems which were selected.
| AT midnight. in his guarded tent.
The Turk was dreaming OF the hour
When Greece. her knee IN suppliance bent.
Should tremble at his power.
In the Old Reading Books.
What was there so enhancing about
that? We listened spellbound from
the moment when Jack-Jack always
selected Marco Bozzaris'-started in
with those magic words: and when he
came to h hero's battle call
Strike-till the last armed foe expires.
Strike-for your affairs and your fires.
Strike-for the green graves of your sires,
God. and YOUR native land.
1t was with difficulty that we kept our
hearts within our breasts. I'd give So
for IN orchestra seat any time now to
experience such q thrill as that; but
alas, those thrills are not sold with
the tickets.
1.-The Eve of Waterloo" was apt to
follow. the same elocutionist usually
giving US several numbers i'll success
sion. and Jack was partial to midnight
eXcitementS.
There was sound of revelry by night.
All, Belgium's capital! Whatever
other delights o have to offer, my
chief interest in YOU will always lie in
the fact that you gathered then" your
beauty and your chivalIy.
MY heart almost stood still at the
words,
But hush: bark. a deep sound strikes like
u rising kllell:
and l am certain that my own cheeks
grew pale, though. they had never had
a chance to blush at the praise of their
own loveliness.'
With what fine effect Jack read, with
due rhetorical pauses.
The Midnight brought the signal sound of
strife,
The Morn the marshal in arms-the Day
Battles magnificently stern array.
THE Charge of the Light Brigade
was frequently EeX ON the list, and
by the time that Ned's turn came, the
funeral odes We're quite in order.
Not a drum was heard. not a funeral note.
I for one had no idea who Sir John
Moore might save been, but / attended
his obsequies With deep reverence, and
felt 1T very solemn and beautiful that
He Law like Il warrior taking his rest.
With his marital cloak around him.
But '"The Burial of Noses!." All. there
was poetry for you!
My affection for a writer already
we'll beloved YVES definitely strength
ened when 1 read. only the other day,
that ever since his boyhood Mark
Twain had counted The Burial of
Noses" as n of his favorite poems.
He read it in Il reading book first. I
am almost certain. l suppose that 1t
must have appeared elsewhere origin
ally. but I find it impossible to assoc
ciate 1t with ans other book than a
well thumbed old reader.
But no man built that sepulchre.
And no man saw it e'er.
For the angels of God upturned the sod
And laid the dead man there.
What a sense of majesty filled us,
with the. stately marching of those
lines!
The Execution of Montrose' was a
favorite with Ned.
There was glory on his forehead.
There. was lustre in his eye.
And he never walked to battle more
proudly than to diet"
That was very splendid. of course,
but that "ghastly gibbet,'' even though
1t was cheated of its spoils. had such
a depressing effect upon my imagina-
ton that I was glad when Nell's turn
came.
We could count on her selection ev-
cry time:
So daring in love. and so dauntless in war,
Have We e'er heard Of gallant like young
Lochinvar?
We certainly never had. but we girls,
especially, had definite anticipations Of
meeting his equal at some future day.
Lord Ullin's Daughter" had a sad
der fate than fair Ellen. it is true, but
there was a chance for a thrill Of des-
pair n remorse which was quite
worth cultivating. as we stood on the
shore with the distracted father.
1t disturbed me somewhat. / remem-
Der that
One lovely hand she stretched for aid.
And one was roundh her lover.
That seemed to indicate q division Of
.ssutimeNtesof which II could. not quite
approve.
The Arabs Farewell.
"The Arabs Farewell to His Steed''
was never overlooked. That was fire.
quently my choice. There were several
'.gulpy" places in that to read:
Thy proud. dark eye will grow less proud.
WAVES RUN HIGHEST
S0u1H or CAPE HnRM