The Washington herald., 1913-10-12
By FRANCES sHAFFER.

He was a sunny little chap. with
scarcely three bright summers behind
him, and when he particularly wanted
one of his baby-wishes TO come true
he was willy enough TO turn upon his
father the battery Of his big, round,
black eyes and end his request with
coaxing little Daddy, dear" or
Daddy, darling
And Daddy, dear" was not brave
enough TO resist the tender pleading.
And as an interested audience OF
three or four listened to the sweet
baby voice that trailed away in that
coaxing, effective manner, and as they
easily enough guessed who had taught
him, they started to comment a bit,
not upon the little boy and his sweet.
lisping words today but upon the boy
grown into the man of tomorrow.
Some listened, and, listening, smiled ;
then listened again in fresh enjoy
mcnt; for they felt quite sure the day
would come when some one, maybe a
whole set of some ones, would be glad
and proud that he did not keep his
affection in hiding.
One thought it all very we'll for the
sweet little boy, but as the years went
along and the outward showings OF
love were still kept up, in the minds
of listeners there always would be a
suspicion that he protests too much. "
And another declared that, as for
her. still waters run Deep" and she
believed that folk who were the most
sincere, the truest of all, and perhaps
the most loving, we're those whose at
fections deeply, quietly riPpled away
without any spoken words. q,
Hoped lie Would Not Forget 1t.
But as one woman sat in the shadow
and remembered the dear dancing eyes
and the careSSing voice of the uncon-
scious little fatterer. she hoped ne
never would forget the art. 1t very,
very often happens that the hearts that
beat the truest and the love that lasts
the longest and covers the most may
be unobtrusively hidden away; but
maybe it would be we'll if they were
not.
For as she sat there thinking of life
as il runs with most OF folk, with all
its strange mixture of joys and sor-
rows. she was sure there were times
when it helped not to guess, but to
know that the wellsprings of devotion
were not running dry. 1t Is possible
to take all things for granted-quite
simple to read between the lines and
to figure out unspOken truths. But,
after all, it warns the very heart
strings and cheers the saddest days to
hear the words that fall very vel
comely from the lips OF those who
are dear
And perhaps never yet a person
slipped over the border without re-
gret on the part of some one left be-
hind that the deep affection down in
the heart had rarely been put in words.
Loving acts are infinitely better than
empty words, and tell a far more elo-
quent story: but most of folk like it
best when the acts and the words go
together, for the human heart is not
easily satisfied.
Yet it is hard for some natures to
say all the things they feel. Like the
still. still waters. there are great
depths below, but they may not always
be apparent; and when the time comes
that it is too. late for words to reach
home, because there is no loved pres
ence to hear, it is wondrously satisfy
ing to remember that there was no
beggary in the telling of the old, old,
story.
But possibly it might not be so
hard if in the home, where all good
things are begun, there was a goodly
bit OF quiet demonStrativenesS one to
the other, from the big folk down.
RedoIent of MenuinE.