Baxter Springs news. [volume] (Baxter Springs, Kan.) 1882-1919, 1913-11-27
The OId-Time ParlOr
and the Boy.
A Mothers Question and Where ]
Found the Answer.
An Incident in the Life Of a
Country Pastor.


for reasons we'll known to min
listers, that the effect of that par
ticular sermon should not be dis
sipated as usual in the stereo-
typed hand-shakes and conven-
tional compliments of the people
in the front vestibule, when l
was halted by the sad solicitous
face of a care-worn mother. Her
only speech was the agitated
gripping of my hand, but I inter-
preted her suppressed sobs as an
invitation to make a pastoral
call.
This l performed promptly
early that week. The door opened
before rang the bell. was ex-
pected and forthwith escorted to
the front room or "parlor."
Here my hostess launched into
the subject, which she assumed ]
had come to discuss, almost pre-
c:pitously. CHER story, however,
was neither unique nor new, but
rather a type of thousands OF
cases almost identical.) Her boy
was hayward. His evenings and
leisure hours away from home
were elongating while his moth
er's life and happiness were short
ening. Her countenance was as
sad as any l have ever looked
upon. Worry and grief had
chased the laughter out of her
otherwise beautiful face. She
was a good intelligent woman.
Her husband was a kind father
and successful in business. Why
should her son 60 astray? The
answer was not in her story
which was too familiar to require
my whole attention to understand
it. u.
But the answer was very mani
fest in that same 'parlor" in
which our dialogue occurred. AS
we entered the room my hostess
raised the dark green shades so
that we could see each other in
the broad daylight. The win
dows however, were not opened,
although the air within was dank
and musty, while the air with
out was exuberant and delightful.
AS stepped across the home
made rag carpet, seated myself
on the haircloth settee and leaned
my elbow on the little white
tidy" neatly pinned over its
arm, / saw the answer to her
question. In the center of the
room was a little walnut table
with a white marble top, while
the pile of ocean shells immed-
lately under it on the floor, gave
to its location an air of fixity. In
the corner was a "what-not," a
series of triangular shelves, sup
ported by columns of spools and
covered with all manner of trim
kets and family souvenirs. On
the walls hung the enlarged fam
lily photographs in walnut frames.
Aside from these, a huge wreath
of flowers made out of wax and
enclosed in a glass encased frame,
constituted the art exhibit of the
room.
This was the ''parlor," IA K 16
as exact and Indifferent as the
figures that indicate its dimen-
sious, as sedate as the white
wierd marble of tombstones. Its
precision in form and nicely of
adjustment bid defiance at even
the suggestion of a change. But
even more pronounced was the
clearness of its utterance, REIN
forced by the orders of Its mis-
tress: Let boys beware who
enter here. No furniture tan be
disturbed; no games or merri-
ment permitted" Yet this was
the only place for the son to
spend his Social Evenings" and
IN its damp unalluring air it held
the answer to the question ola
mothers aching heart.
F. ]. MILNES, President,