Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1924-12-18
THIS AND THAT
BY CHARLES E. TRACEWELL.

How many remember the late Lew
Dockstader singing "Shovelin' Coar'
at the old National?
What a genial minstrel he was, to
be sure! How the echoes of his voice
continue to roll down the ages, and
how the remembrance of his che
personality helps to brighten our
own efforts at shovelin' anthracite!
This is the open season for tossing
shovels of coal into the furnace that
adorns the basement as an ancient
image of brass or iron might have
decorated the temple Of some long
ago nation.
The joys of tending the furnace
ought to be kept in mind at this sea-
son. for, properly estimated, what
might be task becomes a rite COM
parable to the bowling OF some old
sun worshiper in a temple dedicated
to the sun.
Heat and light.
These two qualities we must have
to continue our existence on this
planet. Little babies naturally seek
them. SO do dogs. so do cats. Tabby
Will curl up in the sunshine with
huge satisfaction, never seeming to
get too much of it, except perhaps in
the warmest part of the hottest sum-
mer days.
Since our very existence depends
upon heat and light, the two yet be-
ing inseparable by science, let US not
approach the daily task Of tending
the furnace as a prosaic duty merely,
but rather as a sort OF pleasant offer
ing TO certain great forces of nature.
Ihus we Will not only get the heat
whlch we want, but we will receive
also mental stimuli which are there
waiting for us to take them by the
hand and make them ours
x x X 4
After all. do not most of us make life
entirely too prosaic?
what is the sense of going through
our days in an entirely matter-of-fa fact
way, our life devoid for the most part
or interest or pep" lacking sunshine
and 'moonshine." too, if you will, when
we might as easily make every day a
thlng OF beauty and something of a JOY
forever?
In childhood we are near this sense of
elaton, close to the fundamental under
standing that this is a joyous adven-
ture on which we are engaged, that we
are actually here, and that we really are
going somewhere.
1t mattered not, then, that mankind
sails under sealed orders, placed aboard
this wonderful ship, the world, without
NiAS etShiIB u PERMISSION or SpeCl0c Is
suing of directions.
What cared we. as children, that the
chart was hazy, or that the lines tended
TO blur, or that the how. what, which
and why were poorly defined?
The sky was blue, the air was fresh,
the night was dotted with a thousand
stars.
The wind tossed clean hair over I'M
sullied foreheads, and the rain fell upon
fairy flowers in the garden. The world
outside the door was very interesting
place. and the old attic held romance
atop every trunk and box on rainy days.
Night came down. then. as an uncon-
scious benediction, blessing we ac-
cepted although we did not realize all
its meaning. as something rightfuly
ours. welded into the texture of our
days and nights in an incomparabIy
clever fashion.
X X y X
Kind friends. our days and nights are
no whit less wonderful now than they
were then, If once we stop to brush
away the dross which we have allowed
to accumulate upon them, or which we
have permitted others to cucumber
them with
We are living in Washington, the
Capital of our great Nation. 1t is a city
cleaner and fairer than ancient Rome
ever was, and our country is a republic
greater and better than Plato ever out
lined.