South Bend news-times. (South Bend, Ind.) 1913-1938, 1916-08-12

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they all have drunk her milk and every one of them
was led into the world by her hand-when they were
no taller than tulip All the pride of the world Is
due to mothers
And the gray destroyer of towns the lame tiger
Timur-Gurgan, grew thoughtful and for a long time
silent. Then to all present he said:
Men Tangri Kui, Timur Il, Tmur, servant Of
Cod say what l must say. l have Lived for many
years and the earth groans under me. For thirty
years, with this hand of mine have been destroy
ing the harvest of Death have been taking revenge
upon Death because Death put out the sun of my
heart~-robbed of my Jihangir. Others have
struggled for cities and for kingdoms, but has
so straven for man. Men had no value In my eyes,
l cared not who they were why they were In my
way. 1t /. Timur who said to Bayazet whef
had defeated him: o Bayazet it seems that king
doms nothing before God you see that he gives
them into the hands of people like us-you who are
cripple and me who am lamel' l said this to him
when he was led up to IN chains, grooming under
their weight / looked upon his misfortune and felt
that love was bitter NORWOOD the weed that
grows ruins
"a servant of God I say what I must. A woman
sits before me- her number is legion and she has
awakened in my soul feelings hitherto unknown to
me. AS an equal she speaks to me and she does not
ask, she demands. | and understand why this
woman is so powerful; she loves and love helped her
to recognize that her child is the spark of life from
which fame may spring that viii burn for many
centuries. Have not all prophets been children and
all heroes been weak Jihangir the light of my
eyes, perhaps it was thy lot 20 warm The earth to
happiness 1t; have covered it well with
blood and made it fertile"
Again the ScOurge of Nations pondered long. At
last he said:
81 Timur slave of God say what I must Let
three hundred horsemen GO to all the four corners
of my kingdom and let them find this woman s SON
She will wait here and l will wait with her Happy
shall be he who returns with the child on his saddle
Woman, is that rightf'
She tossed her black hair from her tace smiled at
him and, nodding, answered:
"Quite right, kingl'
Then the terrible old rose and bowed to her
in silence but the merry poet Hermann sang joyfuly
like child:
'Wh0t IS delightful than g song of fo1osrs
and StdTSS
Everyone toU sag; song of love
What Is more enchanting than the midday sun in
May?
lover wNE reply; she UH0m love-
A. t"G'0 the stars are splendid !" the sky at
And I k"O'o the s'sn IS gorgeous dazzling
Summers day.
But the eyes Of my beloved out-rlvaJ all the
folCers
Ard her srnle IS more entrancin0 than the sun an
May.
But no one yet has sung the best, most charming
song Of all;
IT'S the song of al beginnings, Of the heart of all
the World
OF the magic heart of 'co~en, and the mother Of
US GU!'
Timur-Lenk said 70 his poet.
"Quite right, Kermani God did not err when
He selected your lips to announce His wisdom!"
well, God himself is good poet" said The
drunken Hermann.
And the smiled and all the kings and
princes and warriors smiled too like children as
they looked at her-the WOman-MOther.
All this is true. What is said here is the truth,
su Mothers know it. ask them and they will say:
Yes, all this Is everlasting truth. We are more
noHerfu than Death we who ceaselesslv nrasant