The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1924-12-09
DIR. FRANK CRANES
DAILY EDITORIAL
By DIR. FRANK CRANE.
Old Songs, Old FIOuers, and


OaIMEON FORD, when he used to run the old Grand
Union Hotel now demolished by the bosom Of progress
~ was want to say that he didn't how many NEW
hotels his competitors built long Of them put up
an OLD hotel.
There are many things besides hoeries castles nstit
TONS habits, and wines where old age is asset
And the greatest Of these song The ceverest musical
genius in the world might compose song Of such
ing originality and charm that all experts and critics would
be beside themselves with admiration Yet most Of
mortas would pass it by it would leave cold; while
little old melody without genius just because
it is old, would sweep all heartstrings with wild gust
Of passion unstop earfounans and send through
the keenes sweetness of love and tenderness.
That melody flies swfest into the SOUL and is surest to
its mark, which is feathered by time
It is not the tune alone but the overones the swfpass
ing cloudk Of forgotten faces the echoes Of voices
forever STILL the pensve tnge Of kinds Of happiness
possible, the fragrance of strange lilies blow
ing in the twilight easements Of the past.
The higher values of anything lie In those intangible,
qualities that cannot be defined The richest
of love most elusive The strongest comforts
Of faith beyond And little scentladen breeze
Of heaven blowing in the backwindow of memory will
break the heart certainly than the most smashing
gusts of melodrama.
Rock Me to- Sleep Mother!' That is poem that used
to be in the Fourth Reader when went to school.
Whether it is good poetry not haven't the slightest
idea Probably not It bears the same relation to great
poems that margod hoyhock and prince sfeather bear
to the Rose Duchess de Braban the Gladiolus Bench
lyensis
but IL was down In garQen among the peCunaS ana
cosmos the purple and ebush that used walk
with my baby hand tightly clutchng mothers finger while
she talked to precious and laughed at my
swarming fancies and somehow big boxes Of American
Beauties and twevedoar punches of voets do pro-
mote that sort of thing Simple old things have their niche
don't remember much about her views of voting her
social prestge and what her ideas chldranng diet
and eugencs cannot recall The main thing that
Sits back through the thick underground of
years is that SHE LOVED ME- / don't think she knew
how to bring up children she much of child her
SELF and seemed to like to lie the grass with and
Stories to and hide and and laugh with us
children, than to homze along up the straight and
path.
She was always hugging She would wake me up to
play with She would kiss nordinately She loved
me in rather fierce way. And liked it. She had
sunny face To me it like God and all the beatitudes
saints tell Of Him.
And sing OF all the sensations peasurable to my life
nothing can compare with the rapture Of crawling up into
her lap and going to Sleep while she swung and fro in
her rocking chair and sang
Thinking of this wonder if the woman of today with
all her tremendous notions and plans realizes what an al
mighty factor she is in the shaping of her child for veal or
woef
wonder if she realizes how much sheer love and atten
ton count for in a child 5 life?
wonder if she knows what it create memories
that are going to stay when es hotter Impressions
have gone?