The Detroit times., 1915-11-23
Old Songs, Old Flowers
and Mother
sY Or. FRANK CRANE
Copyright, 1915, by Frank Crane)

Simeon Ford, said the Sentimental
Man, when he used TO run the old Grand
Union Hotel, now demolished by thy
beSom OF progress, was wont 10 say thai
he didn't care how many NEW hotelJ
his competitors built, so long as non{
OF them put up an OLD hotel.
There are other things besides hostel
res, castles, institutions, habits, and
wines where old age is an asset
And the greatest of these is song Thu
cleverest musical genius i'm the world
might compose a song of such surpass|
ing originality and charm that all ex|
perts and critics would be beside them|
selves with admiration. Yet most of I'd
common mortals would pass it by. il
would leave us cold, while some lttleI
old, dlnky melody, without genius or art|
Just because il is old, would sweep all ou|
heart-strlngs with a wild gust of pas|
sion, unstop our tear fountains. and
send through us the keenest sweetness
of love and tenderness.
That melody flies swiftest into th@
soul, and is surest to its mark, which il
fathered by time.
1t is not the tune alone, but the overI
tones. the swift passing, cioud-iike. Oh
forgotten faces. the echoes of voices now
forever still, the pensive tinge of kindI
of happiness now nevermore possible
the fragrance as Of strange lilies blowing
in the twilight easements of the past
The higher values of anything lie in
those intangible, evaneScent qualitieI
that cannot be defined. The richest
treasures of love are most elusive. Thd
81 fot II
reason. And little scent laden breed
Of heaven blowing in the back window
Of memory will break the heart mord
certainly than the most smashing gusti
Of melodrama.
"Rock Me TO Sleep Mother" That il
a poem that used TO be in the Fourth
Reader when went to school
Whether 1t is good poetry or not
haven't the slightest idea. Probably
not. 1t bears the same relation I'd
great poems" that marigold, hollyhoeld|
and princess's feather bear to the Rosd
Duchess de Brabant or the Gladiolu5
Brenchlyensis.
But it was down in the garden among
the petunias and cosmos, the purple as|
tiers and fre-bush, that used to WALL
with my baby and tightly clutchind
mothers finger. while she talked TO md
precious nonsense and laughed at my
swarming fancies, and somehow BID
boxes of American Beauties and 81
lunches Of violets do not connote thai
sort of thing. Simple old things havd
their niche.
| don't remember much about he1
views Of voting nor her social prestlge|
and what her ideas on child-training
diet and eugenics were ! cannot recalll
The main thing that Sits back to me
now through the thick underground OF
years is that SHE LOVED ME-. | don''
think she knew how to bring up chill.
dren: she was too much of child her.
self. and seemed to like TO lie on the
grass with me and tell stories, or TO rtr
and hide and scream and laugh with ui
children. than TO homilize US along vi
the straight and narrow path
She was always hugging me. She
would wake me up to play with me. She
would kiss me inordinately. She loved
me in rather fierce way. And | liked
II She had a sunny face. To me il was
like God. and all the beatitudes saints
tell of Him. =.
And sing! Of all the sensations
Measurable TO my life nothing can COM
pare with the rapture of crawling up in
to her lap and going to sleep, while she
swung to and fro in her rocking chair
and sang.
Think of this, ] wonder if the woman
Of today, with all her tremendous no
tions and plans, realizes what an al
mighty factor she is in the shaping OF
her child for veal or woe?
wonder if she realizes how much
sheer love and attention count for in
child's life?
wonder if she knows what it means
10 create memories that are going to staS'
Green when lifes hotter Impressions
have gomez
Thus unused the Sentimental Man.
i