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About The commoner. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-1923 | View Entire Issue (July 25, 1902)
PMTCw" fg.'jw 8 The Commoner. Vol. a, No. 37. ' ' i - p - - THE HOME DEPARTMENT. Silent Sound. You do not hoar it? Unto mo ,Tho sweot, low Bound coinos cease- losslv 'And, floating floods tho earth and sky With tender tono. You do not hear tho restloss boat Upon tho floor of childish foot Of foot that treat tho flow'ry street Of heaven, alono. 'At morn, at noon, at eve, at night, I hear tho pattor, soft and lignt, And catch tho gleam of wings, snow white, About my door. rAnd on tho silont air is borne ,Tho voico that from my world was torn That left mo, comfortless, to mourn, Forovor moro. Sometimes, thoro floats from out tho streot, , . rA burst of laughter, shrill and sweet, And I, forgetting, turn to greet My darling fair. Soft as tho rlpplo of tho stream Breeze-hissed uoneath tho moon s pale beam, How strangely real doth it soemi, And ho not there. rAh, no; you cannot hear him call; You catch no laugh, no light footfall; I am his mother that is all. And Ho who said "I will not leave thee desolate" Has, somehow, loosed tho bands fato, And left ajar tho golden gato Which hides my dead. of His Primrose An old man sat before tlio table in a little green house. No sound was heard except tho drowsy hum of in sects among the flowers and tho tick ing of the fat Dutch clock on the dusty shelf. The old man bent over tho ac count book with puzzled brow. Then making tho necessary preparations for tho night and laying his hands on tho primrose in a trembling caress, tha owner of the little establishment went away, leaving the shop in darkness. Whon tho sound of his stops had grown faint and finally died away, the plants began to speak to each other. "Have you noticed how worried pur master has seemed, of late?" the little primrose asked. "I have, indeed," answered tho geraniums by the window, "and havo been whispering it to each other. Ts it. because so few purchasers are com- ing hero now, do you think?" "That may be the reason," the tall palm answered, "but it is no wondor that wo havo few customers, for from here I can see the door of the big florist's on the avenue. People are going in and out there all day long and maybe they go in and out at night, too, but it is so dark that I can't tell then, though I often havo tried." "His face has looked worried ever Blnce wo camo here," tho pansios an swored, when asked their opinion, "but we havo not been here long. How was it before wo came? Can you tell us, century plant, you have been here longest?" "Yes," tho century plant began, "I have boon hero longest and will tell - you all I know about our kind master. It has been many years since I was first brought horo. It was when the green house was now; tho master's faco was young and thoro wore no lines of caro upon it. A very protty young girl always was near him in tho afternoons, there by tho desk. Tho girl would road to him or sow and sing softly and they both seemed very, happy. In thoso days a little golden haired child was with them, also. Tho child played happily around among tho plants, and in tho evening tho young master would take tho child upon his shoulder, and with..the young lady go homo. Wo woro all very hap py In thoso days. But ono time for sovoral days the master did not como to t)io green house and when he did tho first deep lines of caro showed upon his faco. Then only the child camo with him. Ho seemed lonely and was very tender and loving to his Primroso, as ho called her. Tho little girl grew moro beautiful every day, it seemed, and as time went on, and sho grow older, sho seemed oven prettier than tho flowers themselves. She al ways loved tho primroses best, as a child, and used to caro ror them her self. One day tho master began tak ing care of tho primroses, and it was a long time before we saw the little girl again. Each week a letter came to him which ho read with great pride, always looking very glad when it camo. Wo guesBed that they must have boon from Primrose. I havo seen a good deal of the world, being a cen tury plant, and when sho came back after several years, I was sure sho had been away to somo college. Her golden hair was coiled on top of her head and sho looked tall and stately. Thnn tho nth fir frrpfit. Borrow came to the master. His Primrose went away." "And did sho never como back?" the flowers asked. "No, she has never come back. The big maple tree whispered it all to me, and ho saw in the clear moonlight. A tall young man camo to the gato and waited that night and Primrose came out of tho house and the young man took her hand and kissed it. Tho maple said that Primrose looked sad for a moment, but when the man whis pered something to her she smiled and wont away with him. After this tho master looked much older and sadder. He used to forget all about us, and talk to himself, and murmur, 'she may come back.' But ono day a lotter came, and aftor ho read that he shook his head and Bald, 'She will never como back.' Aftor that time all you plants who are hero now, camo. The master bought moro primroses, and cared for them most tenderly. Then customers were less and less frequent. Can you bo surprised that tho old master looks sad and worried?" There was a silence among tho flow ers aftor the century plant finished, and then the primrose spoko. "Wo dfd not understand all this. Wo have not looked our prettiest to try and attract customers. Ho has done all he can, but wo havo not tried our best to hein tho master. Lot us all do it now, lot us begin and look our best for his sako." "Wo will; wo will," tho flowers an swered and all of them straightened up. Even the frowsey chrysanthemums shook thoir heads into protty atti tudes. All tho flowers awaited tho morning, expectantly. As tho first streak of light pene trated the soiled sky-lights, they asked of tho geraniums by the window, "Is ho coming?" "Not yet," tho geraniums answered. Again when tho sun shono full upon them, tho flowers asked, "Is ho com ing?" "Not the master, but some one Is coming," thoy answered. It was a man who stopped only a moment and when ho left, a black ribbon fluttered from tho door knob. "Why is this?' tho flowers asked. And tho century plant explained it to them.. "And will ho never come back again?" the primrose asked. "Never," tho century plant an swered. "Then we are too late?" the flowers all asked. "We are all too late," the century plant replied. f It was evening' again; all day the flowers had wilted with sadness. The pink glow of tho sky was reflected upon the flowers. A woman stepped quietly Into the green house and sink ing on her knees beside the prim roses, burled her tear-stained faco among the blossoms. The soft glow of tho sun shone in tho woman's golden hair. "That must bo his Primrose," tho flowers whispered. After Graduation. Now that the commencement exer cises are over, and schools and col leges closed for the season, many of our young girls will be putting away their school books for the last time never to bo opened again for routine work, and tho "sweet girl graduate" is thinking, with a sigh of relief, that her lessons are ended, her education finished that there is nothing more for her to learn! Wo older women, who are standing upon the verge of life's hill, whence tho path leads inevitably down to les sened usefulness, cannot but feel a thrill of anxious pity as we realize, as they catinot, that the real schooling of life has but just begun for the3e dear daughters; that tho harder, sterner lessons which many of them must learn through tears and tribula tions, are but now opening before them. These girls all wish to be real, live women, and tho brighter the intellect, the higher the ambition to be among tho useful, helpful, successful ones in tho years to como; to shine socially and intellectually, to be the peer of cultured men and women with whom they must now tako their place, and to broaden, brighten and make beau tiful all the life about them. Every ono of these bright young girls expects to marry, and to havo a home of her own. Many of them do marry, but few of thorn can marry exceptionally well, bo far as money is concerned, Tho majority of them will marry men of mediocre means, and . will literally havo to mako theirr homes, and keep them, with their own hands. No small number will marry, men who are poor in purse, and theso will be compelled to do, if not all, ati least the larger share of all the work that must inevitably be done to make a home of the house they occupy. This will include much of the menial labor, tho common, coarse drudgery which must havo its place In every house hold. These girls will, most of th-Mii plunge thoughtlessly Into these per plexities, wfthout an idea but that they; are only pleasures, easily to be learned, or lightly to bo thrown upon imagin ary shoulders. But the sweetest lassie of them oil -will find, after she is married, that, unless her table is properly cared for, her viands nourishing and appetizing and the home surroundings .clean and comfortable, she will fall from tho exalted position in her young hus band's estimation, and will learn, through bitter heartaches, to wish, she had understood moro clearly her duties as a wife, and had been bettor trained to meet the exacting demands made upon the successful housekeeper. Men, moving about in the world, ac- ' tive intellectually or physically, uso up an immense amount of vitality, which muBt constantly be replenished by a usually healthy appetite, and, as head of the household, it is her duty to see that the means of repair are put before her husband in the most nour ishing and appetizing form. Many a young wife's trouble in domestic lifo begins with her ignorance of tho proper preparation of the Indispens able articles of food placed upon her table. Sho may know perfectly the art of cake baking, making dainty, confectionary, and concocting delic ious desserts, but if her knowledge and practical skill in bread-making, roasting or boiling of meats, and pre paring vegetables has been neglected, she will find herself wretchedly handi capped, and will find many a cloud upon her matrimonial sky which it will need but a slight show of temper, and impatience to round into disas trous storms. ,It is with a touch of sorrowful fore boding that we see these dear, un thinking girls carelessly throwing aside advantages and opportunities, and, through ignorance or defiance, following methods and forming habits that must make them the helpless and burdensome instead of tho helpful and courageous in the great struggle into which their lives must inevitably, merge, and we long to save them, even from themselves, if words of admon-i ishing may reach them. We know they all wish, and intend to be all that is good and true and wise, in the new life their dreamings call up. But wishing is without avail, if will is lacking. To attain their ideal, there is a work to be done, honestly, earnestly and courageously. .There must be a weeding out of faults of temper, of self-indulgence, and habits of indolence and Indifference. Lessons of self-sacrifice, of thought- fulness and patient care-taking; of - ? M 4 u 'V' i.. , .-jk