Charlevoix county herald. (East Jordan, Mich.) 189?-1953, 1913-11-29
THE OLD-TIME PARLOR
AND THE BOY
A Mothers Question and Where
| Found the Answer.

had just preached on "Absolem, My
Son" and was passing out the side exit
of the church, for reasons we'll known
to ministers, that the effect of that par
ticular sermon should not be dissipate d
as usual in the stereotyped hand-shakes
and conventional compliments of the
people in the front vestibule, when |
was halted by the sad solicitous face of
a care-worn mother. Her only speech
was the agitated gripping of my hand,
but | interpreted her suppressed sobs
as an invitation to make pastoral call.
This performed promptly early that
week. The door opened before rang
the bell. | was expected and forth
with escorted to the front room or
''parlor."
Here my hostess launched into the
subject, which she assumed had come
to discuss, almost percipitously. (Her
story, however, was neither unique nor
new, but rather type of thousands of
cases almost identical) Her boy was
wayward. His evenings and leisure
hours away from home were elongating
while his mothers life and happiness
were shortening. 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 good intelligent woman
Her husband was a kind father and
successful in business. Why should
her son go astray? The answer was
not in her story which was too familiar
to require my whole attention to un-
derstand it.
But the answer was very manifest in
that same "parlor" in which our dia-
logue 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 windows
however, were not opened, although
the air was dank and musty, while the
air without was exuberant and delight
full.
AS stepped across the homemade
rag-carpet, seated myself on the hair
cloth settee and leanedm elbow on the
little white ''tidy" neatly pinned over
its arm, saw the answer to her
question. In the center of the room
was little walnut table with white
marble top, while the pile of ocean
shells Immediately under it on the floor
gave to its location an air of fixity. In
the corner was "what-not," a series
of triangular shelves, supported by
columns of spools and covered with all
manner Of trinkets and family suven-
irs. On the walls hung the enlarged
family 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," 14xl6, as ex-
act and Indifferent as the figures that
indicate its dimensions, as sedate as the
white wired marble of tombstones. Its
percision in form and nicely of adjust
ment bid defiance at even the sugges-
ton of change. But even more pro-
nounced was the clearness Of its utter
ance, reinforced by the orders of its
mistress: LET boys beware who enter
here. No furniture can be disturbed;
no games or merriment 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 of a mothers
aching heart.
F. j. MILNES, President,
National Indoor Game Association,
Downers Grove, Ills.