The Oakley herald. [volume] (Oakley, Idaho) 1908-1961, 1912-11-01


animals and 20 on and 70 on, until Ne
finally left. When We got outside Mr..
Nye said, I never listen to Z ventrilo-
Quist for two or three hours but that
l feel that I'm q better man when I
60 away
But you have true poets In Amer
lea az well a In England. Bliss Car
man Is one"-and he repeated Car
mans poem. 'sThe MariGolda." in SUBJ
sanitation OF his clAim-"and MAdi-
son Cawei1 Ia q real live poet
| though shy man. And in England
there's Alfred Noyee, who I believe
may be the new poet that the world
Is waiting for. I'd like to write to him.
but l haven't been nble."
The car rolled on and on through
the splendor OF the autumn wood.
lands, whose green commenced to
show. here and there. 1loriss and
pomps of crimson and gold. And at
last. after = glance. tho poet began to
talk of the lands whose boundaries hN
has SO often unused upon:
"A queer thing, DEATH" he said.
And yet not one-half 70 wonderful
as birth. Where Is the child. q year
before its birth? You can't tell me.
! any more than l can tell you whore
my friend Ii after he Is dead. We ac-
cept the fact that the child's life is
somewhere before birth: how much
easier than that belief II Is to have
faith that death Is not the end of all.
And how much more logicaI--for two
steps OF the arithmetical progression
of life lie plain before us and all We
/, need to DO is to supply the Inevitable
third. We know that life goes on be-
fore birth and we sec 1t here on earth.
and to believe in its existence after It
passes out Of our sight once more
should surely be easiest of all.
But man goes down to the shore
Of the sea OF eternity and goes away
upon its breast. He goes on and on.
away from us. until at last he's lust
black speck on the horizon. And
then he disappears altogether. No
message, no sign, no voice OF any sort
comes back to us to tell us where he
has gone. And all that mirth and sonx
| and courage and cheerfulness that
distinguished him and that made us
love him so are gone from us for
ever. Yesterday he was with IN, and
today we look for him in vain.
yet even now, there are hours
when l seem to have my old friends
| actually with me-thosc who have
gone on before. There may be better
people to be met on the other side Of
the sea; but heaven will have to hump
itself to provide for them.
"Of course, one can speculate az to
what heaven will be like. 1t doesn't
do any harm to speculate upon tho
| sort OF place that heaven will be and
the sort Ut lite that is lived there
The field isn't limited---you can imag-
inc that anything can take place there,
anything, anything, anything.
For instance, you might imagine.
If you choose. that things would 60
on there about as they do here on
earth-with some exceptions. can't
think of many Improvements that
might be made. 1t may be that each
one of us will be assigned certain
things to do, certain daily tasks; one
duty for one person. another duty cor
another. And then, when we had ac-
complishe1 the tlsks SET out for us
on six days Of the week, the Head
Gardener maybe would allow, on the
seventh day. each one Of us to choose
for himself the thing he wanted to do
most of all.
"A fellow might get permission, for
example, to go back to any period and
place of his life on earth and live a
whole day over again. Think OF 1t.
Suppose fellow were allowed to go
back to any one OF the days Of his
boyhood he might choose-might
have the whole, long joyous day be-
fore him again; be happy, ragged,
barefooted. with everything back as 1t
used to De-even TO the stone hruise
on his heel. To have over again one of
those dewy mornings OF so years ago.
He Dreams a Dream.
"Or he might choose to live again
In some old place at eveninK-sOme
mansion, some old tavern--where old
friends were gathered at dinner.
Some dark. high-ceilinged room
where, one by one. candles were lit in
old-fashjoned sconces till the whole
great chamber, the crowded table,
the rich, beautiful draperies, were
ablaze with light and you could see,
here In one chair, So-and-so, and in
another some one else you longed to
see; all lights and happy laughter.
And then you would spy in one cor
ner, Wnere piano stands, q young
fellow bending over the instrument
as II it were a sweetheart. And he
would sit down at the keys and you
would hear, weaving through the hum
OF talk, old melodies. old songs, like
those he used to play on earth.
And you would ask, Who Ys that?
and be answered, Why. that's young
Mozart!
OF you would choose to listen
some night to Burns debating In
some tavern by the Brig Of Ayr-se-
ducing the ears OF all his cronias
with the magic Of his talk: letting
fancy 30 scot-free till all his fellows
mad not eyes for any other; till
master and man, tavern-kecper and
pot-Doy, crept in to listen, Open
mouthed. And then to creep to the