Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1916-05-13
THE MONTH OF MARY

what it was, but l was always at the
foot of the class. | used to feel that
the teachers never used to sympathfze
with me, and at last | almost decided
that | must really be a Ounce. My
mother was always kind, always SYM
pathetic. and she never misunderstood
me or misjudged me. But | was afraid
to tell her all my difficulties at school
for fear she, too might lose her con-
f1dence in me. One day overheard the
teacher tell the inspector that | was
added and it would not be worth
while keeping me in school any longer.
| was so hurt by this last straw that |
burst out crying and went home and
told my mother about it. Then | found
out what a good thing a good mother
fender. Mother-love was aroused;
mother-pride was wounded to the
quick. She brought me back to school,
and angrily told the teacher that he
didn't know what he was talking about.
In fact, she was the most enthusiastic
champion a boy ever had, and | de-
termined right then that | would be
worthy of her and show her that her
confidence was not misplaced. She
was so true, so sure of me; and | felt
that l had some one to live for that ]
must not disappoint."
Strange as it may be thought, all
the mothers are not women. One has
seen instance after instance when this
infinite capacity for tenderness and
sympathy was in the heart of father.
Robert Louis Stevenson tells his read
ers that the keenest critic wife has
is the woman in the man she has mar
ried; that there is ever another wom-
an in the presence of her home who
criticises and weighs every action by
the standards of this potential femi-
nine creation. One has seen this Wom-
an come to light and take the same
brooding care of little ones bereft o.
mother and successfully rear lovely
daughters to do honor to the name OF
dead mother Coming in on a train
I from Atchison one morning, a man
across the aisle was turning into beau
tiful plaits the golden. Well-kept hair
of little girl and he said he had made
her toilette for the seven years she had
.
caring for her in the fashion he
! thought no one else would as we'll as
her mother. And one remembers for
himself the invalided mother and the
father who always got up ahead of the
household on winter mornings that lit
tie shoes should be warmed, and
clothes laid out and hot water ready
for the children who must be got ready
for school ere he went to work They
are mothers, these father-mothers, and
they deserve to be hallowed for the
tenderness and capabilities that makes
them successful imitation OF the best
thing on earth-a mother. The mem
DRY of her is imperishable. He who
has lost her before the consciousness
of memory idealizes her Listen:
/ think that she was tall and wise,
And that her hair was dark as dew,
And curled a little round her eyes;
think her eyes were blue.
On Sabbath days think she wore
A gown of light gray stuff;
! A square pin at her throat. that bore
! A painted basket, full to brim
Or flowers pink and buff;
And round her there was something
[ dim
And yet so homely keen.
As round the ionquil slim.
Caught in the vague of green
At kitchen door.
For this was my own mothers gown,
] The one she wore in town,
So long and long ago;
NV mothers hair was dark as dew,
And well | know
Her eyes were blue