The Washington herald., 1915-09-26

48N 1N48~
ConfeJf Ov,
-HE Lord Of Hfe. whom she
came afterward to know 20 Q
tyrsnt. smiled as she lay in her
"She shall have the Supreme
Gift he promised, and her Guardian
Angel lifted its head. He talked on:
"She shall have beauty elusive as the
colors Of a sea-shell, poignant as noon
light. fne as steel blade!"
That is not the Supreme Gift" said
the Angel.
Then love. ike golden fame. light
ing all her years."
still the Angel objected. "The love
that Life offers Is q transitory gift"
"Ah! l shall bestow on her the power
to feel. It is my gift to the soul!"
And God shall supplement 1t with the
joy7and pain-of expression" whispered
the Angel. dropping tear. like the
shadow Of silver. on her tiny face.
~ HE never was pretty. The children
she played with grew daintily, and
~ were exhibited with pride by rela-
tives and friends. She Of them all was
never pointed out on the playground nor
in the schoolroom. She was not exactly
ugly; she was just heavy. Her face was
too full and too large and the features too
indefinitely defined, as though the Master
Sculptor had wearied Of his work before
1t was finished. Her skin was cloudy;
ho hod TN hofr
too pudgy; too heavy of ankles and
wrists. Her lips dropped too much
Moreover. she was inarticulate But her
voice was wonderful. and there was light
In her eyes.
When she grew into young womanhood
the heavy lines softened. She still lacked
coloring. but the light Of her eyes flooded
personality and illumined the lives Of
those about her. And her friends, who
adored her. said How joyously she
lives!"
Finally love came to her. And then she
began to write.
esToDAY," she wrote. the rain
is beating against the windows.
- Sometimes it is slow monotone,
like the responses Of the litany, and then
it changes to a rush like the moving of
unnumbered wings
THE Spirit of the Rain is a veritable
bird of passage. closely following the
focks of wild geese in her arrival and
departure. And her moods are as various
as your own.
Sleep she shares the delirious raptures
of spring. There is nothing more joyous
than an April shower-nothing more
cheerless than November rain
When the blood Of the clover riots in
the veins of June she dances wildly
through the world. Her silver wings
flash through the mist in the meadow,
the thirsty grass drinks deep Of her liquid
enchantment, and the shimmering cool
ness Of her dusky hair, floating over the
fields, puts courage into the faint heart
of every dropping rose.
Her light feet twinkle upon the forest
floor to the castanets of dripping leaves,
she swings with lyrical grace from side
to side Of the wood, and to the brave little
mother-birds shielding their downy nest
lngs from wind and flood, she whispers.
BE not afraid
Fern and moss and Hchen all wait for
her comm. ;, and the little creatures of the
woods, from sheltered hooks, watch her
mad course from wide, wondering eyes.
"She casts her crystal witchery over
a weary brook ana IL 3tralSntWay sings
again, forgetting all its toilsome way
through parched and dusty plains. There
is another life in her touch and she so
fills the air with magic that 1t needs but
a shaft Of sunset light to lay a rainbow
in every field.
Sometimes her departure is slow and
stately, but more often there Is a sudden
glsam Of silver in the shadow and 10.
she is gone!
To-day have given her a message for
you Even as write she is turning her
changeful face to the east, and / fancy
that she will be with you by nightfall
And so when you light the lamps at
twilight, dreaming perhaps Of the one
who cannot come, soft flngertips will
sound at your window pane. When you
look out into the dark you will see her
laughing, tender eyes, and by the grace
Of loving, you will understand the word
that has come to you-on the wings OF
the Spirit Of the Rain"
From Love Letters OF Musician"
o . .
EYRTLE REED married James sgd
NJ ney Mccullough in 1906 and their
AVA life began in her famous Paradise
Fat" on Kenmore ave-, Chicago. She
was radiantly happy. Her happiness over.
flowed in verse and story. She idealized
hos nj II, "I avender and Old Lace I"