The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-08-24
ADVICE TO THE LOVELORN
Authority on all problems of girls, and
 -QueStiCnS of love and ronance
By Beatrice Fairfax

Authority on all problems of girls, and |
 questions of love and romance.
 Friend, of my infinite dreams
 Little enough endures;
 Little howe'er it seems,
 It is yours, all yours.
 Faith hath f1eeting breath,
 Hopes may be frail but fond,
 But Love shall be Love till death,
 And perhaps beyond
 Those lines make a poem called The Gift" It was written by man named Arthur Benson. It expresses marvelously we'll the exquisite quality of love as known by an idealist. Love would give everything, and yet of it's gifts what endures?
 The rich man presents his beloved with jewels, a town house and a, country house, rope of pearls, gold enough to buy whatever she desires whatever, even. she fancies. The poor man looks on and aches with longing to give as much to the woman he loves
 Perhaps he is giving more. though he does not know it. But perhaps while he is giving more-and here is the possibility for tragedy - the woman who is lowered with gifts finer than pearls and gold does not know it and longs in bitterness for the things which seems so glorious to her.
 We all long for love, for under standing, for companionship and when they are offered to us, are we brave enough to take them? Are pow erty and struggle too much for us or will we embrace them gladly for loves sake?
 The other day I heard a fine man l speaking of his little cottage. Its just a house, he said, shame l facedly, showing the picture of the 1 little place to a woman who has | everything
 And with a note of ache, of longing | that was actually terrible in her | smooth, cultivated, well-bred voice, | she cried:
 But it isn't just house. It's a home!"
 She knew that in the cottage of | this poor man there are three splen- | did children, wide-eyed, happy and rosy. She knew that in the little l piece of ground outside there are l flowers in a lovely garden tangle. She l knew that the wife is a placid, happy l woman who is never denied whatever the man has it in his power to give. | He comes home from work at night | with every right to be exha usted by 1 the arduous tasks through which he 1 earns his living. But he's never cross, | never irritable, never critical. never l exacting.
 | Whatever of disappointment the | day has brought this man, he seems l able to forget in the illumination of 1 love and eagerneSS with which he l goes home to those he adores. He | dosent bring them fame, or wealth. | but he brings love-infinite, allen | folding, all powerful to work the mir
 acle of happiness.
 He stands ready to share his
 dreams with his wife. They may | never come true. But he has faith 1 in his future. and she too believes in
 him. They hope for great things | some day.
 | Suppose that day never comes. Sup | pose the world looks at him in his | little cottage and calls him failure .'' 1 That, too, will be endurable, because | he brings the one gift which lasts - | and lasts, perhaps. beyond the very | gates of death. His wife will smile ! at disappointment and failure as the
 worldly see it. for she has some thing | greater. She has Love. I Love makes up for everything elkse. | Big, honest, farseeing, noble love is
 worth anything it costs, any pain it | must endure. any disappointment it
 must share. But love-to make up l for so much-must hold almost. every thing in itself. Not just desire, or af- l fection-but the great, deep under standing and oneness must be Loves own if it is to be the perfect gift