The interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1912-1984, 1917-03-27
LIVING OVER THE PAST

I'm in kind of restrospectiv
mood this morning, and I find tina
the older | grow and the farther
get from home the more Pm incline,
to this kind of mooding-living il
the past. Last winter when / visite,
my old home state, South Carolina.
found everything so changed and Sc
many strange faces, if / had landed
lonesome. Everything and everybody
had changed; and in some ways not
for the better. It's in the South like
| it is in many other places, people
have gone money-mad. The material.
istic spirit is fast killing out and
destroying that more beautiful and
finer sentiment of life. The old-time
big yards and beautiful flower gar
dens, which were at one time, beau
ty and glory of the Southern home
have all had to give way to the cot
ton and the, corn which may now be
seen growing up almost to ones
door.
Just here I shall have to take off
my hat to you, Mr.. Editor. You have
shown not only good judgment, but
exhibited that nobler and finer senti-
ment of soul by going back home
among the sold and the tried" How
foolish for one who has reached mid
die life to leave the old and go out
in search of the new. Better face the
ills we have than fly to those we
know not of.
The links that once bound us to
our old home and friends are drop
ping out. All too frequent, for me at
least, the news comes telling of some
friend or loved one who has passed
to the Great Beyond. Since leaving
Stanford, recall two choice spirits,
to say nothing of the others who have
passed over. Mr.. David Scott, "Uncle
Dave" God be praised for such a
life; his home was my home, when
ever | wanted to and how | shall miss
him, should | ever go back: the other
Mrs. Charlotte Letcher Warren, it
was like heaven almost to me in her
society. Right here let me pause and
place modest flower upon each of
these graves; and l am so glad l did
not wait until they were gone to eX-
press my appreciation of their gen.
uine worth. 1t is said thatat the fun
eral of Henry w. Longfellow. the
aged Emerson, a life long friend,
whose powers were broken, and men, |
ory almost entirly gone, was led to
take a last look at the face of the |!
dead poet. AS he gazed upon it. he |
said: "The gentleman who lives there |
was a beautiful soul, but have for
gotten his name"
Whether we forget the names or !,
not, as their deeds arerecalled, and as
we pass by their last resting places,
we shall have to say: "Here lie two
souls"
The following little poem seems
appropriate and expresses my feel
ngs just now:
life is a count of losses,
Every year;
FOR the weak are heavier crosses,
Every year;
lost springs with sobs replying,
into weary autumn signing
While those we love are dying.
Every year.
he days have less of gladness
Every year;
he nights more weight of sadness,
Every year;
air springs no longer charm us,
he winds and weather harm us,
he threats of death alarm US,
Every year.
here come new cares and sorrows,
Every year;
ark davs and darker morrows, a
Every. year: is
he ghosts of dead love haunt us,
he ghosts of changed friends taunt /
n disappointments daunt us, il
Every year. s
o the past go dead faces, c
Every year; S,
S the loved leave vacant places, d
Every year; liz
the sad eyes meet US, s
the evening dust they greet us, a.
nd to come to them entreat US, e,
Every year. o.
You are growing DID," they tell US, cl
Every year;
You are more alone" they tell us, Il
Every year; ca
)u can win no new affection, Il
~ have only recollection, Ell
,eper sorrow and detection, it
Every year. bs
20 true, Life's shores are shifting,
Every year; W
I'd we are sea-ward drifting, ~
Every year; tn
d places, changing, fret us, Fl
e living more forget us,
ere are fewer to forget us,
Every year.
t the truer life draws higher, do
Every year; r,
d its morning star climbs higher, do
Every year; nj,
rth's hold on us grows slighter, ws
d the heavy burden lighter, ed
d the Dawn Immortal brighter, fs
Every year. I'm
port, MINI, R. B. Mahoney, pi,
RANK FOOLISHNESS th ,s
You occasionally see it stated that Wa
is do not result from cold wea- fa'
r. That is rank foolishness. Were e.,
rue colds would be as prevalent, IN,