The Logan Republican. [volume] (Logan, Utah) 1902-1924, 1912-12-03

pouring its dark current into his
heart, and God alone could take 1t
Quit Springs from the mountain top
send crystal pure water leaping sea-
ward, but nothing but filth runo in
the sewer!
Here is one of the strangest things
about the life which leads down the
primrose path" The man who has
never been brought Behind the bars
is never the one to blame! Always
somebody else is at fault. The charge
has been laid against the wrong man
Sin always pleads not guilty. Anoth-
er fellow and this young man had
been together, and 1t was this 10Th
err fellow" who ought to be in the
cell!
All! the shame of the other fell
low!" If could write it in letters
of fire on the very sky of heaven,
where every father and son could
see It, this is what | would say:
Look well to the other fellow who
touches the young heart life
If fathers would think of this Of
tener and themselves be the one 10
get close to the lives of their boys
and to keep them all no through the
years when the heart is soft AM easy
to sape, and then see to 1t that ter
own lives are SO clean and so ne
and so honest that the impressions
will be such as shall send the boy
out into the world strong, brave,
helpful, then no other fellow ever
would, ever could, creep in and steal
away the good done.
Queer stuff cement is. 1t looks at
first just like a light grey dust. But
mix it with sand drop in a bit Of
water and mix it up and you have
rock that cannot be broken. The
storm may beat against 1t, frost may
gnaw it, but it stands firm. The ce-
ment holds 1t for all time.
On street / sometimes travel
see the marks of little animals
feet, stamped in the hard stone walk.
You and know how those footprints
came to be there. When the cement
was still soft, that little creature
tripped across the walk. And he left
tracks that will last as long as the
walks lasts,
What is making the marks in the
soul life of the boy and the girl you
love?
We sometimes get very busy about
our farm work. The big meadow
must be moved; the fifty acre field
of corn bust not be allowed to go
to waste; there is a dollar out yon-
der that looks so big! We must have
it. And we nerve ourselves UP for
the chase. The days are not long
enough, the nights mere nothing.
Some days we do not see the boys
and girls from daylight till dark, un-
less it be at the table, and then they
are so full of their little stores
stories that do not take our minds
off the planning how best TO got the
yellow gold away out there in the
distance-that we do not think what
opportunity we are letting slip.
But | would rather have a boy cud
died up under my arm OH the seat
of the big wagon, lad leaning hard
on me as | pass up and down ffeis
meadow paths, and its shadowy for
est lanes, a young man looking ear
nestly into my face as he sore: near
er to life's big problems TO- himself
and asks me, what do Won think
about it, father?" than to have all
the money that will be rolled up
from the great crop OF the bo@ndless
west this year.
Better still, ! would rather live to
see the day, away on down toward
life's shutdown, when some boy, my
| own or somebody's elses, would take
me by the hand and say honestly
and truthfully. you helped me get
right ideas of life when | was a
You gave me a pointer that brought
me a million dollars!"
Because the dollars lose their
shine. The big farm | must leave
some day. The corn and the wheat
and the hay crop | cannot take with
me when I cross the Great Divide
but the bright words, the CHEEKY
words, the words which tie young
hearts to me, are spoken for eter-
! nItN -Ednar l. Nincnnt In IItnh