GEMS IN VERSE.

Te Aroha News, Volume XII, Issue 1753, 24 July 1895, Page 3

GEMS IN VERSE.

The Tight That Gilds Our Sorrow. There is no heart hut hath its inner anguish. Therqis no eye but hath with tears beeu wet. There is no voice but hath been heard to lan- , , guish O’er hours of darkness it can ne’er forget., There is no cheek, however bright Its roses. But perished buds beneath its hues are hid; Her bye that in its dewy light reposes But broken star beams tremble ’neath its lid. There is no lip, howe’er with laughter ringing, ' However light and gay its words may be, But It hath trembled at some dark upspringing Of stem affliction and deep misery. Wo are all brothers in this land of dreaming. Yet hand 1 meets hand, and eye to eye replies; Nor deem we that beneath a brow all beaming The flower of life in broken beauty lies. Oh! blessed light that gilds our night of sorrow,' Oh! balm of Gilead for our healing found,. Wo know that peace will come' with thee tomorrow, ' And that .afflictions spring not from the ground. ■ Power of Short Words. Think not thtJt strength lies in the big round word. Or that the brief and plain must needs he weak. To whom can this bo true who o.nco has heard The cry for help,, thditongue tKdt all men *■ ■ speak . When wont or woe or fear is in the throat, So that each word gasped out is like a shriek Pressed from the sore heart or a strange, wild • note " , ■ ■ Sung by some fay or fiend? There is o' strength ■ - Which dies, if stretched -too far or spun too •: flliO, V ' ' ' Whioh hag more height than breadth, more . ’' depth than length.' .'■Let but this force of thought and speech ho 1 ■. mine? ...... . ' .: ■ : And ho. that will may take the sleek, fat ■ ' phrase r ' :'■■■'■■ Which glows and burns not, though it gleam ' and shine— . . ' Light, but not heat—a flash, but not a blaze! Nor is it mere strength that the short word ■ boasts; It serves of more than fight or storm to tell, The roar.of , waves that clash on rockbound' , coasts, _ The erash of tall trees, whemtho wild winds * swell, 1 The roar of guns, the groans of men that die On blood stained fields. It has a voice as . well ■' y- ; -■ . ‘ For them that far foff on.their sick bgdsjie. • For them that weep, for thein that mourn the dead, ■ For them that laugh and danco and (clap the hand; - ’. •’. To Joy’s quick step, as well as grief’s slow ' ■ tread. ■ - ■• ‘ • • ■ • ' ■ The sweet, plain words wo learnt at first keep time, And though ttie theme be sad or gay or grand. With each, with all, these may be made to ' . chime,. , In thought Or speeoh or song, in prose or rhyme. 9 / —Joseph Addison Alexander. The Saddest Part. When little Bess was but a child. She came to me one day , And laid her head upon my cheek In her sweet baby way. “Papa,” she said,“l want a doll.” - W hat could her papa do? With heart quite full of .parent love I straightway bought her two. ■The years sped on. The crown of youth Lay on her maiden brow. Again she came unto me.nnd said, . “I want a pony now.” The pony came. How glad was I ' To see her happy faeo! And on my wrinkled heart there lay No blighting sorrow’s trace./, Alas! how easy ’tis Jo give ' Our treasures of the heart To those we love, but, oh, how hard ' . ■ It is from them to part. For yesterday she came again, Just a 3 a .child of three, '; ' ' And blushing said, “He’s there down , ; .. stairs, , ',; . ■ Papa; and he wants me.” : f ' ' —Now-York Hevald,

Praise. Though praise is verv sweet to hoar And human hearts are prone to love it, ' Yet, If unmerited, I fear ' ’Tis scarce a tiling for sense to covet. The friend who, braving all my wrath. Holds up a mirror to my vision And shows me my ill chosen path Will never lead to fields’ Elysianj , Who marks my blunders, probes my faults,' While I with shame am inly quaking. Though my affection for him halts He ia my friend and no mistaking. But he who ever smiling comes - With honeyed words and flattering glances, ■,: Whose every praise all dissent shuns . And chimes with all my vagrant fanoies— He.fans, ’tis true, my self esteem And gives free reign to dreams conceited, And In his presence it would seem * That friendship's mission is completed; And yet I cannot make it so, ' Howe’er J strive with logic clever, For in my inmost heart I know . He is my enemy forever. ....' ' • —Chicago Inter Ocean. Deeds of-Aspiration. What though your lot in life seems poor and , i -small? What though in great, accomplishment you fall? Let not the thought of this your soul appall. Nor think your days are spent without avail. A noble aspiration is ardeed . ®hough tinachibved, and h®Who judges man {Tpon his lofty throne will give it heed, And all. will be rewarded as they plan. ; ; " —John Kendrick Bangs. •v. Prudence. I would not climb the mountain high, Ah, nol . ; ' " - v Those dizzy steps let others try; v Let swift and strong both pass me by; In vales Of calm humility Content I’ll go. . • I would not sail the mighty deep. Nay, nay! 'Where tempests wild the billows sweep, And ocean’s monsters roll and leap; ’ * . Obscurity’s safe shores I’ll keep. Nor farther stray. —New Orleans Picavune. STAGE GLINTS. It is rumored that John Stetson will star Rifth Carpenter in “Featherbrain” nsjet season. Next season Corinne will appear only In Gill and Frazer’s new burlesque, “Hendrik Hudson.” Mme. Tavary has engaged Payne Clark as the leading" tenor for her opera .company next season. E. H. Sothern will next season produce a play written for him by Robert Buchunan and based on the lj.fe and times of Richard Brinslpy Sheridan. The venerable curiosities of the Boston Museum have" been given to the National Historical society, and the space they occupied will be used' for offices.

Paying the Price. Here is an amusing story of two tramps, one of whom had spentthe night in a London workhouse. . f’What,” said one, “d’yer mean, to say they gives yer. a good blowout and a night’s lodging for nothin?” “For nothin?” said the other.. “Not much. They makes yer have a warm bath .first . all over.”—Toronto Globe. : - i Suspicious Wealth, ; Kitty—Did you «ee Mr. Ferris when you called on him? ' . Tom—No, but I gathered from a hasty ; inspection of his room that he is a sharp I b.ht unprincipled man. Kitty—Why, what did you discover? Tom—Three silk umbrellas in the cor* ner.—Truth. '•;> -V-' , : ; Women In a Photograph jGallery. “If you want to’ see some of the.vanities of life, jnst pass a week in a photographer’s gallery,” said one who has grown gray in the art that immortalizes, “That the bulk of our patrons is of the class of ■handsome people Is a common belief , but not a correct one. “Of course pretty women of a certain class get an enormous number of pictures taken, which they use almost as some people do cards, to i give... away, to every body. But a large number of orders ccanfc''j&bifcfY are positively homely. Photographers rarely do a' pretty face full justice. :We cannot fiatiter nature " without. spoilingf the effect Entirely, but we can help out a homely person wonderfully, and the shrewd photographer doesn’t . neglect to do it in every possible way. I have seen commonplace looking women go into ecstasies bver pictures of themselves. “The painter who can use the modifications of light and shade in colors has a j big advantage over us, but we have' pretty well balanced; things by touching up photographs; m Water colors." it’s wonderfm what- exalted opinions some women have pf their personal beauty, I have seen some of them who have been dealing with me for a quarter of a century,. and they expect that their pictures of today shall show attractively as those of decades'ago.” V . ' ' :

- Expressive. “John,* said the old man to his sop, “I will give yon £IOO to go away with. Maybe, as you don’t like my business, you will find a better one.” Three weeks later the young man landed in New York. A month later, finding but £6 in his possession, he determined to sail home again. ; Ifc was best to let his father know beforehand, but .how?. A letter' would, be too slow, so off went John to the telegraph .office. • , . v : ■ ■ ‘ “A dollar a word to London, sir;” answered the polite clerk to his inquiry. “I want to tell my father I’ve Spent all my money, and I’m sorryand I’m coming Home, and I want him to forgive me, and a lot of other things, and I can only pay. for six words to tell him everything,” said John. . ; ; “Gut it short,” replied the clerk. John sat down and thought. An hour after, to his'immense astonishment; the old man received the following cablegram:' *' “Squills, London—Fatted calf for one.’’ —Boston Globe.. • ; , The Effects of a Bucliess. Auction sales' develop queer things • The sale in London' some years ago .or the effects of the Duchess of Somerset, then recently deceased, showed that di.s tingnished lady to have been a person bi - much eccentricity in : the; matter of her wardrobe. Among i|6oo lots offered for gale were, if reports published: at. tbo time were accurate', 500 lace and' other handkerchiefs, 2,000 pairs of gloves, 50 o Indian and other shawls, 600 pairs of silk'stockings and dresses cf all sorts and descriptions of 40 years’ fashions. .•l it was rather a. pitiful spectacle, too, says the newspaper Boswell Who writes of this extraordinary sale, “for the owner of these things had for 30 years before her death led the life, of- a recluse? ;shutting herself up in her house j- and ’ yet'ors dering regularly from her milliner at each change of season the dresses she would have worn if she had been mixing in seeiety.; Every three months jhe would bo dressed in court costume, as if going to a reception? and would walk in it up and down her own rooms, much as the widow of Maximilian of Mexico would celebrate the anniversaries of her murdered husband’s drawing room days by arraying herself in her best and preparing for the courtiers who would never more come to pay him reverence.” - .

The Importance of One’s Name. An important matter to teach a girl is the value of her. signature.- If the habit is once formed of attaching her full name to every, letter she writes with her. address, it may save a great deal of trouble in future times should her letters be lost by mail. - She should,be taught the responsibility she assumes in- tlius signing; her name, and' she is not likely then to write silly, and foolish. letters, which she would gladly recall.. She would also learn that she must hot Affix her .name to any list of individuals, any. society or any document without knowing fully what responsibility she is assuming. The matter may seem trivial; hut she should give time to thought in all matters where her name is asked for and not trust even to her dearest friend against her own judgment.—Philadelphia Times.

A Clever Compliment.

> Sir Arthur Sullivan is credited with a very pretty compliment. At Monte Carlo he came across Mr. and Mrs. Julian Story, the lady being a renowned singer, Miss Eames. She requested the composer to write something in her autograph albumn. . lie scored, a fe.w bars of music and wrote beneath it, “To one famed for song and story.”

Hickory Nut Crisps.

Mix together thoroughly cupfuls of coarse graham flour and a half cupful of hickory nut meal. Make into a rather stiff dough with ice water, knead well, roll into a sheet as thin as "brown paper, cut_ with a knife into squares and bake on perforated tins until lightly browned on both sides. -Walnut, pecan and hickory nut.meats may be easily reduced to a meal by chopping quite fine and afterward pressing with a .potato masher through a wire sieve or a very fine colander. .