Ashland tidings. [volume] (Ashland, Or.) 1876-1919, 1913-05-19
The Home Circle
Thoughts from the Editorial Pen

IiO IOIo COuNcISlu6 III lH6lT DdDy
lingo, and their talk was all of to-
morrow. 1t brought to my mind
chain of ideas, and thought: ITO
morrow belongs to the child. He
has no yesterday; he is impatient
with today; he lives in the enchant-
ment of tomorrow tomorrow that
is thronged with brave deeds and
big endeavors'
A little later l started down a
mountain trail with my two daugh-
ters, after heavy mountain storm.
For an hour before we started the
elements had tried to do their worst.
Then, with the suddenness that is
characteristic of the mountains, it
cleared, and the sun came out with
warmth we would have deemed i'm
possible an hour before.
1t was memorable walk Ma
ture, appearing in her most beguiling
form, strove to make us forget the
awful fit of temper that had so re-
Gently shaken her. And she succeed
ed. The air was fresh, and fragrant
with pine and fir. Beneath our feet
was carpet of green. The noun
tains rose majestically from our very
pathway, green with forestry and
rugged with rocks, while a clear
stream leaped over boulders and fell
into silvery cascades on one side of
the trail.
Suddenly, so close as to be almost
startling, we saw beautiful rain
bow completely arching the canyon.
Its prismatic colors, outlined against
the green of the mountains, seemed
to lie at our very feet.
Now we'll find the bag of gold,"
we told each other, and raced toward
the spot. When we reached the
place it was gone, and rested against
another butte ahead. Again we
made dash for it, and again it
eluded us.
So it continued, until we came to
where the canyon opened wide to
reveal Gods masterpiece. We gazed
in awed silence at the grandeur of
the panorama that was spread before
our eyes-the wonder of mountain
and valley, with its lights and shad-
ows-for we were now overlooking
the beautiful valley of the Rogue,
dotted with thrifty towns and happy
rural homes, lying half hidden be-
hind bank of blooms, with here
and there a field of grain stretching
away like a beauteous greensward
adorning the garden of the gods
and there, arching it all, was our
rainbow, adding it's last touch of per-
rection to the picture, with It's myr-
iad-colored end-wnere always lies
the bag of gold-resting gloriously
on the rugged side of old Grizzly,
eight miles or more away.
So it is with our tomorrows. Just
when we think we are so close we
can step INTO them they pass little
| farther on.
Yet, had there been no rainbow to
lure us on we would not have been
rewarded with the view that lifted
our thoughts far above the bounds of
the scene itself.
Why, that tour of the enchanting
land beyond the blue waters, walk
ing in the shadows of the great trees,
down the deep lanes, in the places
antiquity hallows with great deeds
and greater thoughts, sitting on the
banks of the sluggish Avon where
played the Intellectual Giant in his
childhood, before the house where
the Blind Bard sang, in front of the
sumptuous castle where the magnifi-
cent Louis held his court, amid the
ruins of the council house of the
Caesars, through Italy, and Spain,
with its turreted castles and it's
dreams. All of these lie over there,
in the magical lands of tomorrow.
Aye, that is dreaming. But were
there no dreams there would be no
achievements, for everything of mo-
ment had it's beginning in a dream.
The dreams of today are the realities
of tomorrow, and were there no to-
morrow there would be small inspir-
alton to endeavor.
At least, let us go together to the
blest boundary line between today
and the magic land of tomorrow, for
the sun is shining over there. Yes
terday there was a mist-the mist
that saddens-and today is bleak
but over there the birds are singing,
the flowers are blooming;. one can
hear the voices of happy children and
mothers grooming to their babes.
Yesterday the door had to be
barred against the gaunt wolf. To-
day it is bill collector knocking
at the door. But tomorrow, why
abundance is expressed in tha fruit