Norwich bulletin., 1915-10-02
EYES AND NO EYES

was where you bought those brown socks don't you remember Joshnnyf. not seen it nearly so plainly as might q poorer woman whose only privilege was to read. about it in a bOk-
 "Dear mel. Don't you hate and dread the FsiI7" inquiTed a neighbor.
 fo me 1t always seems such lone
 Lonesonei With the earth groan- ing with harvests, every tree yielding fruit. corn in the sh1ek and pumpkins in the field red apples on the bough.. all the pleasant sounds of gathering the good things Into barns; peace and evidences of onanipotent care and
 True. there are always the chin November days to look forward 10. the snows of December. the storms of the early months of the New Year; but were 1t not for these we would not appreciate spring which we feel certain is to reward our Winter pa- tienee and waiting. How monoton ous. almost stupid, must be, the trop- anything any 1sss except Summer Sss weather. Ss. Summer climate. Srmer nowersi We do not appreciate violefs half so much when we gather them tn great bunch es. as we do the first wee purple blossom which has braved the Spring cold. surprising us as it looks up from some frost-bound banikl
 The short sighted ones mourn, too, over the death of the flowers, the fall- | ing of the leaf. the bleakness of the skies Of Autumn. the inevitable pros pect of Ice and snow, Again why? What more consoling symbol of life | %f fAa tr-,~ fa1f hope for. can human beings desire than Is. furnished them during these very days some calN NAlonesome"? |, The earth robes herself in gorgeous. ness for tine years few remaining days of .lovliness. The commences | shrub .s garbed in scarlet. every brial
 takes on colors which are the despair lof the chemists. Puppies and sof
 withered by frost touches.
 | The royal purple of wild asters ant
 the richness of the noddtng golden rot
 carpet the roadsides and fields witt
 splendor which never made gorgeou
 the path of even the wise and grea
 Soioman. Scents coAe from tn
 vines and the boughs. there is tn
 buzz about hives and the fiutter abou
 nests and caves; everywhere there
 the sense of preparation in the air.
 
 Rreparation-for death; the seem ing death of Nature. But throughou the dull long twilights. the ever-in creasing chill of the frosty nights, fin allY the sharp, stinging cold. whic il leaves biackness and death wher bloom and color and life have bee , before there is that in the soul whic brings assurance that this desolatic is. after all, but temporary. The eye , which really see, look far beyond UT
 inviting, blackened. shriveled figure , of what but yesterday were flowers. a reawakening of a newer, loveli' . life bu few months ahead.
 } 1t is to be feared that there al = those whose eyes never unclose froi the cradle to the grave. At leas that Is the impression we galn frol 1 their words and actions. They spea e and plan as though. instead of beir : mere guests al an inn. they had bee sent upon this earth to remain fol | eyer.r..l. ----- --f-H-g .t
 When sorrows and losses come . them. they cry out, either in anger
 despair or imprecation, as though tho were the only ones ever afflicted.
 they lose friends by death. they wa
 as though death were not as natur ' as lffe-in fact. the finishing part.
 | life. They never look beyond the ! borly wrangles. never get their soul
 eyes opened to see through the col Q webby windows of their own litle ii z terests and selfish passions and pu lt tering likes and dIsiilxes.
 - They never see themselves as a til 1t atom of a great system, in which e is theirs td do tbeir part for today d leaving the rest to omnipotenee ai n Omniscience. .s, e Perhaps the world war has done .s one good thing, in opening our ey Si to our own small yalue-except tn ,- every soul is valuable. But when ie look at pictures of thousands a r. millions of soldiers engaged in { T. awful conflict, troops from the en t. of the earth. we sense the fact tn
 our little town is a mere dot on ,a small. inconsiderable map. and th 10 we ourselves weigh about as heav is as does a grain of sand on the SC 'n shore in the worlds importance.
 And the realization helps a bit, , rudely tear open our eyes. in ce r+ they been all along blinded to the T, -e issue. the real object. the real mea is ing of life!
 a THE. DIcTAGRAPH IT. | rrn~ -~ rw Wr- -~-~