The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1914-08-13
DR.. J, C.ElY IN NEW ENGLAND.
A Highly Interesting Letter From
Stony Beach R. /.
Nv dear Mr.. Editor.

ments.
We may propose but there is a su-
preme power that disposes.
We make our plans and are on the
eve of executing them when some un-
forseen event changes our course and
sends US in another direction. Our
eyes went unto the west; plans made,
tickets engaged, when we were turned
eastward. AS result we are here in
this shady nook, this quiet retreat over
looking bay that opens out into Long
Island Sound. The town is for the
most part hidden among the bushes and
trees, but there are manv very COM
Portable homes with a splendid avenue
Just like our State extending
from the depot through the village and
circulating back to the starting point.
Over two miles in length
THE Homestead, where we stop,
has a beautiful outlook over the beach,
while short distance below is the
"Point,'' the enterance into the sound,
where fishermen enjoy the rare sport of
catching the gamy little blue fish. Some
times mackerl slip in, to the delight of
the angler. The attraction here is the
Chautauqua, which brings together
those who enjoy spending their vaca-
ton in the study of the Bible or Kin
dred subjects After all the real rest.
the profitable vacation, consists in the
change of work, of scenery and of as
sociations. There is such a thing as
busy idleness, but it amounts to moth
ing. There is nothing satisfactory in
1T. tits not even restful, and as to its
accomplishing anything permanent or
practical it is minus quality. There
is what is called Sweet idleness,"
though the habitual lounger, the con-
stltutional idler, has no part in it. He
doesn't get even sip of the sweets of
it, for it is reserved for and enjoyed by
those who have earned it. But it can
not last long-only for brief season
can one revel in it. 1t may be luxuri-
GUS while it lasts, but it is transient.
l try to persuade myself that | have
earned it though the fact is l am tired
of 1t and will welcome the regular rou-
tine. 1t is pleasant to see new faces
and meet.new people, and create new
friendships, but you have the feeling
that all of it is but temporary and the
heart instinectively turns to the old and
tried ones. We may enjoy for the pres
ent the new scenes, but in fact we turn
toward the old home and the little city
on top of the mountains where nestles
the only place on earth that you can
call home. The place, where amid the
termoils of life, its ceaseless veXations
It's wars and connections, you can enter
with the assurance of peace and rest
the place that should be the type of
heaven.
l was touched the other dav as | sat
on the veranda to hear the dining room
girls. all of them foreigners, though
now pretty well Americanized, as they
sat together on side porch their
thoughts far away, their hearts tender
as they slipped out to the far away
home across the sea where the war
cloud has arisen and the storm has
burst upon the lands they love.
Their feelings formed vent in the
singing of the National airs, but there
was touch of pathos as one started
and all caught up the strains of "Auld
Lange Syne," then my Old Kentucky
Home" and that jewel of songs that
stirs alike all hearts to the depths,
Home, Sweet Home" 1t thrilled one
for | knew that in thought they had
been carried back to the scenes of
childhood, to the fatherland where now
fathers and brothers, kindred and
friends. are responding to the call to
arms. Then they are back IN the coun-
try OF their adoption where sweethearts
and companions are frantically seeking
passage back home to enlist under the
old flag-the flag that as children they
learned to love, the sight of which now
arouses the patriotism and unbottles
the enthusiasm of their young nature
They dream not of the horrors of war.
They do not fully appreciate it's awful
meaning, but they realize something of
its sufferings, privations and anguish
and anticipate the severing of tender
ties; the possible darkening of their
future lives and the blighting of all
their fondest anticipations. Others
know too well what it will mean to
them to be called back. They slipped
away from the hardships and limitations
of the homeland to better their condi-
ton in the land of the free. They
have tasted the sweets of civil and
religious liberty and so long to be able
to have their dear ones share it with
them. Not few are willing to re-
nounce all allegiance to their home land
and so are crowding the naturalization
offices to become full fledged citizens as
speedily as possible.
Away from all this termoil and blood
shed, this heartacheness and tenseness