Evening star., 1925-02-05

ton of coal in the cellar Is
worth two in the alley.
man may be forgiven for getting
exquisite satisfaction out of a brand
new ton of coal, especially If 1t is
put in just at the beginning of a
cold spell, when the bin was prac-
ticaily empty.
The furnace, like an iron Oliver
Twist, stood there clamoring for
more" Coal was what 1t wanted
Nothing else would do. It's digestive
tubes were not equipped for the con-
sumption of oil.
A furnace Is a hard master II
calls for attention at all times, per.
haps in the middle of the night, when
a freshening wind comes whoopinG
down It's chimney, stirring It's banked
emberS to renewed vigor.
Many men there are who think
they know all the vagaries of theii
pet furnace, yet in reality know but
little more about the thing thar
they did when first they slung in
that first disheartening shovel OF
anthracite.
That first shovelful, by the way,
marks crisis in the life OF every
furnace. Also in the life of the
stoker. That first shovel goes against
lhC aiiip Go IL "CIC-
Just like putting money into the
fire. said one householder. But he
gets over that feeling.
After awhile the furnace mar
comes to view coal more philo-
sophically. Instead of putting money
into the furnace to burn up, hi
merely puts in coal to warm his
house. He can throw on five bis
heaping shovelfuls without a single
qualm.
Not until then does he see the true
beauty in a ton of black diamonds
Formerly a ton OF coal in the cellar
had been q ton of coal to him, ant
nothing more. 1t had been a source
of expense, some toll, and some
worry. Now It suddenly blossomet
like the rose, became theme fol
dreams, an invitation to poetry.
How come?
A ton of coal, looked at rightly
is q rich mine of human nature
When | looked at my new ton o
coal, reposfng there In q great heal
in the bin, saw visions, and dreamed
dreams. =
The black expanse gave way to |
fair white sheet, and upon 1t
read the words of Walt Whitman:
Rise after rise. bow the phantoms behind me
.Afar down l see the huge first
Nothing know I was even there,
/ waited unseen and always, and slept through
And took my time. and took no hurt from
the fetid carbon,
Long 1 was hugged close-long and long.
Immense have been the preparations for me
Faithful and friendly the arms that have
helped me.
Cycles ferred my cradle, rowing and rowing
like cheerful boatmen.
For room to me stars kept aside In theii
They sent influences to look after what wal
TO hold me.
Before was born out of my mother genera.
Ny embryo has never been torpid, nothing
could ovcrlay IL.
For 1t the nebula cohered to srm.
The long slow strata piled to rest IL on,
Vast vegetables gave 1t sustenance-
Monstrous sauroids transported IL In theil
mouths and deposited with care.
All forces have been steadily employed tc
complete and delight me.
Now on this spot 1 stand with my robust
soul.
Perhaps this is one Of the mos
inspiring thoughts to be gotten out
of ton of coal. that the individua
soul of man, today contemplating th'
carbon in his cellar. was in existence
centuries and centuries ago, slept
through the mist, and took no hur
from the slow piIing Of the strata
The picture of the cycles ferryinl
like cheeFful .boatmen" is unique
as also is that of the Inonstrous sau
roids carting US along in theil
mouths. And that climax:
All forces have been steadily employed to
complete and delight me,
Now this spot I stand with my robust
soul.