CO-MATES HALUE ALEXANDER REYNOLDS kW Class_ /^5~(?_ir_v5'j?' Book £''i:u3-6 CopgktN" JJdO" COpy-RIGHT DEPOSIT. CO'M ATES r^ "*s/i CO-MATES .J BY HALLIE ALEXANDER REYNOLDS (^\ i.' NASHVILLE, TENN. PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR 1905 1=^ UBnARY of aONGR£SS (wo Copies Kewitveu JUL 1 1905 Oopyrigrii entry ^>^*^ ff. fqos-. OWtSS cu AAc WW COPY tt. Copyright 190S By Hallie Alexander Reynolds FATHER Thy helpless child Into the wild 1 send Defend thou it, I pray, Along the way TO MY MOTHER CONTENTS PART I I'AGE A Real Boyhood 9 Ruth lo oopsie scoopsie ii My Good Little Daughter — The Lullaby of Ages 12 My Little Sister 14 PART II A Gentle Rain — If I Had Known 16 The Song of the Creek 17 A Tale 19 In a Town of Renown 21 White Raiment — White and Gold 22 For the Seer— August -^z A Rain Barrel; or, A Chain of Many Colors 25 My Tiny Son — The Heart Surcharged with Grief 27 A Mighty Wind. 29 My Soul's Garden 30 A Duel ? 32 A Diamond Ring 34 Miss Importance.. 35 Miss Pert — The Woman's Club 36 A Man with Curiosity— A Lull 37 Ole Blabbity Blab — Lazy Bones 38 The Preacher's Mistake— The Scenic Railway 39 Swine 40 The Prelate's Engagement 41 To My Mother 43 Spring 49 Retrospection 52 Her Journey 58 Mr. and Mrs. Recherche. 60 D.D.'S 61 A Message for Mrs. Tattler ^2 Braggity Mens 63 7 "il/r early life was a^ child ^s rolic — halj trick, halt dreatn. I remember the colored bubbles blown from the pipe of fun. I retnetuber rolling leisurely upon the summer air, and now I hear the child^s laughs as they burst and xvent back into the silent nothings. Life was a rope dance, a sxving, a butterfly chase, a mother^s kiss, a tumble in the sea sand, a run for baubles., a pail, a spade, a hoop, a horse of vjood, a Tvhip — one sxveet mockery after another of things that used to please, a dream just on the xvitig.''^ -DR. JOSEPH PARKER. r^if}^ f^sf i}-^ A-Cir^J^ ^^if}^ r^iJ^ r^'iJ-^ -^ x" (^ ■^ "x" ^ >5 X ^ '^ "x ^-^ X ^'^ *x* ^ PART 1 A REAL BOYHOOD. (Motif: Dr. Parker's Words., My early life was a rolic, Half trick and half sweet dream. The bubbles thrown from the pipe of fun were real^ They did not seem The gossamer nothings that burst at my touch, That lure me with opal gleam. I remember rolling leisurely Upon the summer air; And now, I hear the child laughs, T often wing me there. Life was then a rope dance, A swing, a butterfly chase ; Some say, now, 'tis a game of chance, And weary of the race. But I think of the tumble in the sand, The kiss from my mother's lip, A run for baubles, a pail, a spade, A horse of wood, a whip. 9 CO- MATES And I trundle once more my tiny hoop, And I live again and say: "Life may be a tiresome game, But I laugh along the way." RUTH. Ruth, Ruth, thou beautiful being! The youth of early springtime The world is seeing Through thy clear, clear eyes. As quiet pools Of woodland waters cool, They lie upon the bosom of thy face, So full of glee, so full of grace. They are given As a benediction from Heaven. Thou art to me An early apple bud Upon a fragrant tree. My soul yearns To melt into thine, O gay child ! Caress this tired spirit of mine, And lead me to the Fountain of Truth, Sweet Ruth, Of everlasting youth. TO CO- MATES From cool, clovered meadows With restful shadows Thou tripp'st Down mountain sides, The happy child Of a sunbeam, Who coverest thy head with a kiss, With a smile of his bliss. 00 PS IE SCO OPS IE. OoPSiE ScoopsiE is my only little sheep; He often 'tends like he is fast asleep ; And when I am to take a nap, He then would like Bo-Peep — This little Oopsie Scoopsie that I love. When Oopsie Scoopsie was so very small That he could hardly laugh, And couldn't talk at all. He lay upon my arm and wiggled his short toes Beneath the embroidered petticoat, and other fine, long clothes. That I made for little Oopsie Scoopsie that I love. When I am sitting near my favorite desk to write, My dear little Scoopsie holds his clinched fist so tight, What do I see but clover blossoms white That he has gathered, has little Oopsie Scoopsie ? II CO- MATES MY GOOD LITTLE DAUGHTER. My good little daughter sits in the sun Shelling peas ; She picks them out one by one — Now those, now these. She knows not that I am standing near, The little dear ! The sunshine pours down through her hair, Laughs o'er her face; A sunbeam plays o'er her fingers fair, In their work of grace. God keep her close to His strong, warm heart When I part from her — My little daughter ! THE LULLABY OF AGES. The night, like a thin-blown bowl of glass, Hangs o'er the world. It yields sweet incense to Him Who swung it there; It distills upon the flowers perfumes rare. The air invites me; I lift gently the flower's bell, A drowsy, nodding tale it tells 12 CO- MATES As babies do in lisps Upon their mothers' arm, From softest, sweetest lips. I as gently let it down; Its snow-white crown Falls back upon the green leaf's breast And rests. I look above And love. I gaze through the night's fair lens To Him Who sits upon his throne of pearl; To saints in multitudes There in state, King's great, Sit side by side With Paul, At peace ; While children small Sing in glorious ecstasy Of the broadened liberty Of heaven. I look upon the flower's snow, To me there comes a song of long ago ; No dropping tears play soft accompaniment to it For peace and joy upon its strains are sent. The stars still declare That God hath set them there ; They sing the lullaby of ages To children now.. As then. 13 CO- MATES For Christ, a babe, Upon his motlier's breast Found holy rest. From their swinging song How must the mother then have felt To see through bars Across the kine The stars Join hands ^ And sing as merry babes Of Christ, her babe, The Saviour of all lands? This song comes to me Across the foaming sea, From the land of the holy dawn, Where Hbertv was born. MY LITTLE SISTER. Safe sheltered in from sin . Was little sister. Her merry voice was hushed ; Ah, how we missed her! With drooping soul and sobs back pushed, I stooped and kissed her, Dear little sister! When she was small And I was tall, She bothered me; 14 CO- MATES But now her death over all Has smothered me. 1 must arise, with calmest face, And greet the living ; There may be joy, There may be grace From my own giving. Dear little sister ! O'er her laughing eyes, Our changing skies. We often have soft kissed her. Our blurred eyes By pain's surprise Are filled with earthly mist. The mists are curtains which He lifts By promises. Ah, little sister, little sister, An angel heart thou bearest. Sweet angel songs thou darest ; And God for thee now carest. Sweet little sister. 15 €M^*>^ rM v>^ '^^ir^'^ ^^^^V^^^ ^^V¥.->'^ '^^V^'^ 'fe X ^-^ X ^-^ X ^^ "x ^'^ X ^'^ X ^ PART II /I GENTLE RAIN. Steadily the rain is falling Upon the hawthorn tree : Quietly his wings are folded, The wings of the young wood bee. The butterfly shields his tissue wings 'Neath the crimson buds of early spring, While the cooling drops on the strong, gray boughs, At our touch, shake in showers Upon our grateful brows. IF I HAD KNOWN. If I had known my brother groaned for bread, I would have said The word. I would have done the golden deed My Lord advised for those in need. i6 CO- MATES His cry unto the Lord hath gone, The opportunity hath flown Into for evermore. I sit alone And weep and moan: "If I had known, if I had known !" THE SONG OF THE CREEK. One day I walked across grounds Thrown up in mounds By the plow, Through tangles of briers. By opening bud fires, Heeding well The spell Of the hearty violet. Over rustic rail fences I climbed To find A surprise Of springtime beauty Before my eyes — A huge bowlder, The gray and green shoulder Of a mystic covered hill No hand had tilled. It seems 2 17 CO-MATES 'Twould have been a sin To have disturbed the youth of the trees. The truth Of the clear creek Smiled God to us As an infant's cheek, An infant's eyes. I cried in wonder At the bird's son^ Echoing from the resounding hills. From a projecting rock I watched Spring stretch her golden strings From tree to tree Across the cool, shadowed creek, Making ready for her yearly festival. The complete hours were sweet. For at God's feet Hay On that springtime day. The creek In cooling accents then did speak. In tones Of music o'er her stones : "My mysteries are deep, But deeper are the ocean's. The mosses near me creep, I see the tree's devotion. Though I may see no spar. No wing of white sea bird. My face reflects the star. My stirring life is heard i8 CO-MATES By boy let loose from school. Who then obeys my rule. I feed the hungry poor, I cleanse their humble door. I crystal streams outpour To meet the river's tide. I full abide In wonders. I reflect the thunder's frown Down, down, To where the sleepy fish are found.'' A TALE. There are gates of pearl And beautiful green ^ Through which we have often in wonder seen Gay belt' knights And lords bedight In velvet fleur-de-lis, And ladies fair, With silken hair. As fair as the fairest day ; While earls beside Most gleefully ride, And smile in shadows gay. One fine knight. In pearl bedight, 19 CO- MATES On steel-gray ckarger rode. The housings grand, From an unknown land. Were glorious to behold ; The reins, From Spain, Were of a sunny hue; Of silver bits And bolden wits^ There were not a few; The jeweled plume, That knew no groom. In fantasy waved wild. The children there Threw sapphire stones And glanced their golden curls. The topaz eyes Of many a one Gleamed goldenly. As does the sun; Indeed, 'twas quite A lovely sight To see in wafting air So fair A set of gems so rare. There was another, A knightly brother, Who rode gracefully thereby Upon a steed of golden bay. With flanks as bright as a sunny noon Of a bright, bright summer day. 20 CO- MATES The satin sheen of well-rounded neck Caused many a lord to nod and beck. This gay young knight With Saxon hair Drew well his rein, A golden chain, With loving care By little playful maid. She rode a white With eyes of night, With blue, blue housings on. This tale is well. IN A TOWN OF RENOWN. In a town Of renown^ Near the billowy sea, Where the blood of patriots flowed so free. Where the fields of life were mowed — ah me ! There dwelt in a snowy abode a soul — A soul of purest gold. 'Twas a girl so sweet The angels repeat Her name from the heavenly scroll. ''Tis forme!" I cried; "She shall be my bride. She shall be my pride, 21 CO-MATES In this town by the billowy sea !' The lily died. Her name so sweet I'll not repeat, But the angels will sing it to me. WHITE RAIMENT., If to weepings He call thee, Why go. Thy garments shall be As the snow. If thou bearest the seed Of the true, gentle deed. And dost sow In every bare land. Withhold, withhold not thy hand ! WHITE AND GOLD. Lay a jonquil o'er my heart When I am dead; Place white roses in my hand. Around my head. The jonquil a star shall gleam Upon my breast ; The roses shall be white angel wings Whereupon to rest. 22 CO-MATES FOR THE SEER. O HAPPY he Who nature sees In all her varying moods. Tis there The beauty of the air, The beauty of the woods, The homeliest circumstance becomes Imbued with light from heaven. To him who opens well his eyes And prays for this light to be given. AUGUST. Speakin' uv June An' uv the heart's ''bein' in tune," An' the upliftin' uv yer sperits, I'll engage August merets About ez much praiz Ez them daiz. I've rid down August's waze, I've saw the treeze raize The'r clappin' ban's To the bloo uv the August skiez, An' shout the'r joy to the land; I'll warrant the'r's ez much bloo In August skiez ez in June. No, ter you ? 23 . CO-MATES I'd jes' as soon set Under the treeze in August an' rest Ez in June — an' ruther, Fer the groun' ain't soppin' wet Half the time. The Hght is in its prime, A golden yeller bath, Better ner cream. The jay bird's scream Is melody to me — In nature's classic song Jes' a wrong Not plade rite. God might hev sent A humming bird. It would have went Too soon, an' never sung. I've never hung Many hopes on them buzzin' darts ; They're jes' like serciety flirts. En the strate corn is ez purty Ez purty girls; God made it ez same ez pearls. To fix up this worl'. It's rite ter look well Ef yer can ; Evin a man Mout try Ter look spry. The rusty, yeller Melons, meller Among the tater vines — 24 CO-MATES This site is mine Frum the tansy bed. The gorgus butterfliez kiss the flowers red ; In lonely corners uv sedgy fields The cricket wields His tuning fork Fer autumn's carnivel ; The golden-rod an' heather Begin to smile tergether. In August's rich an' rosy pam We find fer September sweetest bam. A RAIN BARREL; OR, A CHAIN OF MANY COLORS. 1 STAND, I look at the sky in the barrel of water. The apple tree near by holds bewitchingly a strong, beautiful branch thereover. I think of other lands, of the deep blue sea, home here, home beyond. The clear blue water of my sea seems clearer. The more I look, deeper and bluer grows the water. I say : 'The sheer depth the which is space begun." The dark reflection of the wooden gutter brings another line to me : 'The rampart of God's house that she was standing on." The breeze smilingly kisses the sweet, fresh water; the apple bough sways for very joy; the leaves shine in the water. I think again : "The tree of life, the fruit, the crystal 25 CO- MATES stream." A sweet voice comes to me from childhood's years. Other sweet voices, strong and joyous, say: "Come away." I start. I look at the green tree and its soft gray shade. I say: "It's a good old world, it's a dear old world, it's a superb old world, with royalty always around us. I see a little brown bird, with its striped back, en- joying the cool, damp grass; a butterfly with its scar- let sash and a bee robbing the apple blossom of its sweet. I stand and taste. I say: "This fruit is not forbidden." I listen. Then a child comes with his fleet of blacking boxes bearing the seal and stamp of Repuhlique Francaise and medal of Exposition Nationale. He claps his hands with glee, and I partake of his merriment. We sail our fleet of boxes — war ships with holes for cannon, flatboats, skififs, and barges. The lotus of the apple tree bountifully showers its petals over the gay Egyp- tians of our imagination, who sing and float carelessly over the sea. I think again: "The sea of glass." The bee still sips his nectar, The birds chirp on ; Another tree beckons me, I say : "Not yet." The boy sounds the depth of our sea with his cotton string and dipper handle. I ask: "How deep?" He measures. "As far as the string is wet. Just three feet ;" and I say : " 'By the sounding sea.' / cannot fathom the rain barrel." 26 ' CO- MATES The child holds up another toy : "Here's my anchor !" I under the apple tree say, "Where's my anchor ?" and I drowse. MY TINY SON. My tiny son isn't beautiful To others well, I know ; But to me he is. For his young, young soul Is as white as the white, white snow. The touch of his wee, wee hand Is as soft as the snowflakes that fall, And the coo from his tender lips Is as sweet as the dove's low call. THE HEART SURCHARGED WITH GRIEF. The heart surcharged with grief Must find relief Somehow, somewhere ; It seeks the primal cheer of paradise. Grief dies ♦ Or lives Before the eyes Of God, According to the way one's feet The ways of life have trod. 27 CO- MATES The eyes that have wept sore Must know more Of the sunshine; Less of inward gloom, More of the Divine That speaks in nature's spacious room — The world. The ear that has heard The dull, cold thud of grief Must list for the birds' song, Must find its chiefest charm Upon the wooded hill In violet-studded grove so still, Or upon the glassy stream Where sounds from earth Bid him dream Of heaven and God. For if here we find such soothing songs, How shall it be ere long ? The mouth that has spoken words of pain, Before it sings the songs of heaven, Must refrain; Must gain A calm Christ-spoken, By tempests Unbroken, By shocks. 28 CO- MATES Our lives rush onward over rocks, Perhaps the tide is turned; The old surroundings burned By lightning. Fear not; 'Twill reach the seas In spite of these. A MIGHTY WIND. I Am the child Of the sky And the earth. An awful birth Was given Me by a storm cloud riven In rage. I am the son of ages, The herald of destruction. Of disruption, The brother of thunder, that roars While I go before With lightning, Fright'ning The people of the world. Some of whom are hurled Into a state Either great Or terrible. 29 CO- MATES I am the destroyer Of the works of God — my employer. At his command I uproot trees. I seize the habitations of man And crush them with my hand. I scour and sweep the earth While people weep. While I lay desolate, More often I make The earth in beauty to appear, And leave the raindrop's clinging tear Upon each spear of grass, Upon each flower as I pass. MY SOUL'S GARDEN, I HAVE a garden wherein the Master walks ; The virtues, sweet and lowly, Spring anew as he talks Of purest things and holy. I say and hold his garments tight : "This one is dead ; By thy might It yet can raise its head. O Elder Brother still so true, Make it spring anew !" 30 CO-MATES My spirit knows no rest ; I smite my breast And cry : "The lie Cut down by sin. How can I win An everlasting chaplet from such flowers?" He smiles and reassures me, Saying: "Heavenly powers Have moved worlds; Canst trust?" I weep and say: "I must, For thou art just To forgive, xA.nd canst make them live." "Be it even so; They grow Henceforth According to thy faith. cultivate ! O cultivate !" 1 weep and beat my breast, A disturbed song bird flies from its nest ; He gently draws me to the bush's edge ; I look: the thin-shelled, dainty eggs Are sweetest blue. "Why weepest thou? Behold the beautiful beginning Of direst hopes. 31 CO-MATES This is but saddest sinning, Even now The bird is flying back. Disturb them not, But gently tread around the spot And give a gentler pruning. Thou shalt see blossoms o'er it all. And in the young bird's tender tuning Thou shalt often hear my call. plow deep And never weep, For I will never leave thee ; 1 never sleep." Now I pray for everlasting trust And work with energy, So when I reach the last sweet bush I shall invited be Into a hush of rich expectancy. Into a place of love and purity. A DUEL? Your wife dresses well; Yes, her old clothes. Is that so? The last suit, I hear, Was exceedingly dear. Humph, Just forty-five, 32 CO- MATES Land sakes alive! Do you have to dress wives that way? More expensively than that Sometimes. Ha ! ha ! A simple hat Oft'en costs me half the sum. I tell you my wife's economical, though. Sure. As her old beau says, quite artistical. But the invitations. Well, Pet's in a pet Yet. How's that? My! it didn't take long for my kin To begin To make trouble. You remember our reception? yes. They wondered how on earth we could afford such. They've done her dirt. Now, what have you done ? Let them poke fun At her, and encouraged them. Shut up ! You have, and you know it. Shut up ! or I'll double my fist up and hit You between the eyes. Old man, I'll surprise You in many ways. You'd better surprise that worldly-wise sweetheart of yours With a little law and gospel. Have you no honor, Charles? 1 tell you I can't help these snarls • 3 33 JO-MATES In my hank. Cant help them? You're a villain. I challenge you to a duel Over this jewel. What's the matter with you ? You must be out of your head. She's my wife. I'll attend to this. You're not any more fit to kiss her Than — Yoii are? Shut up. The duel, sir. Duel nothing^; You're not rig-ht In the upper story, Or you'd fight. A DIAMOND RING. Do let us get married — do, I'll separate the two if I can. Poor man ! Dear Jim ! I wonder how on earth she ever caught him ! Such extravagance! To think that she, Reared in poverty. Would have put him to the test that way, 34 CO- MATES. Poor man ! Unlucky day That he married her ! They say not a happy moment has he had. Too bad ! Too bad ! ! The first Sunday she went to church After they were married They sat in front of an old darling of his. She wore no gloves, Of course. And bless your soul She took the whole of her braid In her hand. Good land! MISS IMPORTANCE, She always thought she was so smart, An' held her head so high, I'm just as glad as I can be That they frowed dirt on her an' made her cry. Look at old Miss Importance ! The ribbon's off her hair. Her face is ves as dirty; I don't care one bit — I ves don't care, 35 CO- MATES MISS PERT. Little sister's des as pert, She des twisks her head and flirts Her linen apron 'round. Papa frowns And says she's the baddest girl in town. THE WOMAN'S CLUB. Did you enjoy the club meeting? Very much indeed. The greeting Was cordial. The topic? I'll speak of that later. The refreshments were great! Indeed! Is that so? Why not say swell? Humph ! Well, What's the matter with great? It smacks of slang. They were excellent, then. How's that? Exactly the word. Was Mrs. Dresden heard This afternoon? No, she wasn't there ; In France, I suppose. Humph 1 36 CO-MATES Some of them pulled every hair out of the woman's head. She isn't dead, However. O, no, She'll never be dead, never! A MAN WITH CURIOSITY. There was a man who had curiosity. How can it be? What ! A man with curiosity ? There were some men Who had curiosity ; O hozv and where and when Did men have curiosity? A LULL. I HEAR the drip-drop of the rain, I see the stars above, And through my blinding tears and pain I see that God is love. 37 CO-MATES OLE BLABBITY BLAB. Ole Blabbity Blab Is just a dab . Of smut on creation's cheek. His head's a sieve With nothing but a rim And a g^reat big leak. He's a speckled puppy An' a mean ole sneak, Ole Blabbity Blab. LAZY BONES, Lazy Bones Just moans An' groans When her mammy calls her of mornings. She hears the words, ''I give you fair v^arning, my lady," And the twitter of birds. But she don't care. She rams her head in the pillow An' tangles her hair, An' just politely stays there. 38 CO- MATES THE PREACHER'S MISTAKE. "He went to be rigged up and new clothes," Said the preacher. And he was educated; He had been a Greek teacher. I pondered. 'To be new clothes." "He went to be new clothes." Why, that's fine ! To be new clothes to those who are wandering unclad. To be peace to the turbulent, Joy to the sad! THE SCENIC RAILWAY. That old scenic railway Just simply shook me out Like a piece of ribbon^ An' knocked me about. It tied me in a knot. Then untied me and tied me again In a double bowknot. I tell you what, I nearly died. (O, you imagine you did.) No, sir; I nearly died, I tell you. I laughed and I cried, 39 CO- MATES An' I prayed as hard as puttin' out fire ; I jabbed my feet against the dashboard An' lowered My head ! When we stopped I was nearly dead. Sure nuff. You know that's all stuff. SWINE. One day I was in the nursery Enjoying nursery ways, When, in a moment of inadvertence, I hitched my son's wagon to a tin dog. I thought how often are we carted around By some hound Or hog. Some girls Cast their pearls Before swine. Men do the same thing In this lame old world. We are here To fight For the right; Not to be whirled As motes In a flood of light. 40 CO- MATES THE PRELATE'S ENGAGEMENT. The hour for the prelate's engagement with the king had not quite arrived. The well-trained servant at the palace door received the dignitary very quietly, and as quietly withdrew to his alcove in the east end of the reception hall. The prelate, though accustomed to splendor, found much in his magnificent surroundings to interest him. His mild yet keen blue eyes dwelt long upon a fine picture by Lady Alma Tadema. He was enjoying th^ beautiful handling of the drapery when the soft hand of the attentive servant touched him to remind him that the exact time had arrived. In an instant, it seemed, the king appeared, simply attired, after the fashion of one of our Presidents. The prelate bowed low. The king met him as he would have met his own brother. 'T have kept you waiting. I beg pardon for so doing," said he, rather briskly. "I am sure," replied the Right Reverend Roberts in his matchless tones, "that I am greatly honored in that I secured any time of yours during this exceeding- ly busy hunting season." His Majesty laughed heartily. "O, but I had a superb bag of game when I came home." 'Ts that so ?" questioned the minister sotto voce. ''Why, I suppose I must have walked at least twenty miles. The appetite I had was perfectly marvelous." "By the way," kindly, but rather abruptly, said the king, "ma^ I inquire just how I may serve you?" 41 CO- MATES The minister grew quite pale and constrained. Ten years previous one of the king's relatives, a very devout woman, had presented to the dignitary of her beloved Church a most beautiful and handsome country seat. The magnificent park joined one of the king's choice hunting preserves. For many months past the prelate's mind had been sorely agitated by a thought which came to him one enchanting July night. He was sit- ting by a window, drinking deep the holy influences of the blissful night. The very God was at his side. His mighty presence awed him into a strange fear. "Perfect love casteth out fear," softly said his angel; and lo! one with eyes of flame, that struck terror to his already affrighted soul, said in words that burned upon the altar of his Holy of Holies: ''How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God!" Then a feeling of tenderness not unlike that which he felt for his mother swept every obstacle away. Perfect love had indeed c^st out fear. He could now approach the king with his message. He saw a vision of a crucified Saviour. How easy then did the task seem ! now for a moment, how difficult ! The vision reappeared this time in the king's splendid draw- ing-room. He spoke gently and calmly: ''Your Maj- esty remembers that ten years ago on Christmas Eve I received a note calling me to the Countess G's. When I found her on the first day of the follow- ing year in her cozy parlor, she begged me in her own gracious manner to accept the beautiful coun- try seat which is now my home. I objected. She spoke of a vision of the angels that had illumined her 42 CO-MATES chamber a few nights before, and of a clear, bell-like note that seemed to come from God's throne, saying: 'Relinquish, reUnquish. That thou hast is mine. Thou art my steward; shall I find thee faithful?' She was so deeply impressed that she should bestow this prop- erty upon me that I accepted. The voice has spoken to me. Too long have I been enjoying the luxurious apartments, the charming garden, and comforting acres. Too long have I been unmindful of the cries of my starving brethren. I too must relinquish. God is our Father. He has let me enjoy this, speaking to me only in his still, small voice. I hear him now in wrath. The idea is this : to found a Rest Home for the sick of our Church, a place of calm retreat for those who are gasping for the odor of the rose, the scent of the pine." ''Sir," said the king, in tones of true majesty, "we are brethren. Proceed with your work, and allow me the privilege, I pray, of being a coworker with you in your task. The blessing of the King of kings be with you!" TO MY MOTHER. I have a beautiful memory, which, like a crystal vase, I look through and see: A COOL, white bed, a damask rose, A saintly face, in sweet repose. I drop beside the bed 43 CO-MATES A golden head Once more. I hold the rose's stem And pray to Him To keep me there, A golden hair, For evermore. You divine A shrine Is there. It is, and ever shall be, Until eternity. A pilgrimage I make Until, where heathens rage And vain imaginings And sad disputings Are never known, I find a home. I clasp my hands, So baby white, Around the rose's stem. I linger there And fill the air With thoughtless childhood chimes. A slender hand clasps mine (This hand is now in fatherland) ; The wine Of joy it lifts. While rifts 44 CO- MATES Of fringed gold I see In skies of gray intensity. Whole years of pure delight I spend — Ah, would those years could never end ! The damask rose lies still; The amethyst eyes Are downward glanced in sweet surprise On me. No ill Dare touch my hair, For God is there. She tells me with a kiss He promised this. Such lessons there I learn That any one may spurn Me — 'twill never harm. The eternal charm Is 'round me yet. For there I've met The great and kingly God Who withdraws sometimes, maybe, So that we may feel and see The beauty of his love. He withdrew from me one day, Leaving me treading a weary way Of Winding, bitt'rest tears. The sunny, saddened years Have borne me on. Sometimes with song. For thoughts of life to be Have bathed me in the sea — the sea Of surging health. 45 CO- MATES Broad thoughts of heavenly wealth Have filled my mind — The wealth of presence, heavenly kind, Of joyous song. I wonder on And trust, For it must Be true ; For God is true and just! The saintly face, in sweet repose. Was shattered as the damask rose. He placed upon her darling breast The roses of eternal rest — The crimson roses of his life. She was a lovely sacrifice, A true and tender wife. The lintels of my heart that day Were marked with purest blood. The thorns of Jesus Christ were hers. The way Was trod — she understood. And I? Till yet I try. But cannot see Because of sad mortality. I feel His blessed garments near my soul, I feel His hallowed presence in my heart ; At His touch my soul is quick made whole. From dearest love I part. 46 CO- MATES Richest joys are those that are broken, Sweetest words are those unspoken. We often stand in grandest state amid a bed of flowers ; The minutes stand with breath abate To welcome dearest hours. The flowers lave our feet in dew, And wipe them with their petals. The sky o'ershakes it wreathed blue, The clouds the breezes settle. The lemon lilies stand a mass of sunny-lighted gold. The shadows play within their depths Fold over fold. shadows, it will ever be That we must consider thee ! To-day my shrine is there Beside that vacant bed. And, though no golden hair, 1 lean my weary head And sing to thee With echoes from eternity. Ah, could I make thee understand It is a near and goodly land ! Song. Jesus, best Lover of my soul, Thy help alone I need; Thy help alone when spirit, sore, Torn-winged, cannot speed, 47 CO-MATES I need thee evermore, my Lord, I gain thee every day ; I win thee through thy every word, I meet thee when I pray. And though the day be fair or foul, Thy presence. Lord, I feel. Though wrecking storms may round me howl, Into coverts safe I steal. The favor of my friends is vain, Thy love, O Lord, I keep ; Thy love is with me still, my God, When I awake or sleep. To the good it must be beautiful to die — To feel His arms, on dewy roses still to lie; To feel the dew of life by breezes swept. To know at last dull pain is overleapt ; To hear the harp of life give one low sigh As swept upon by a hand of love And then put by. The dew's dissolved, The problem's solved! We're face to face with Thee, We're in eternity ! And what, O Father, is eternity ? I pause at Father; 'Tis immensity of love — ''tis home. 48 CO- MATES SPRING. There is a voice of singing in the land, The accompaniment is played by a divine hand. I sit and listen. Quick, I stand And wonder ! On every side is springing life. Love's chiding strife Is heard From tongue to tongue of bird. The hyacinths tall in lavender To the smiling breezes stir. The tulip is a tall young fellow, Bending o'er the primrose yellow. In graceful jacket green, From vantage point trees may be seen Piled and climbing high To reach the fair blue sky. No cry Escapes me; From tree to tree I gaze. No haze Of sorrow, No pain for morrow. Shrouds my moment's cahr. ; But on my heated spirit balm Is spread. I can't decribe The grassy bed. I lie and look, 4 49 CO- MATES Each tree a book, The sky a fantasy, The world a mystery. phantasy ! O mystery ! Let me look beyond the true ! 1 cannot move, I only love ! And loving thus, I live Near Him who all things gives. Close by is seen The river's neck embraced in green. The trees now interpose In curved rows, And clasp her dimpled neck so cool, so fair; The moss, its tendriled hair, Softly lies in place, Fringing her restful face. For a moment war groans Are gone. Naught but the helpless moan Of the darling calf is heard. The evening song of a bird, And the cow bell's mellow tones. They are calling me back to childhood's days Unconscious, willing, I go their ways. And my heart breaks While it makes A wild leap through the years. With tears The years Hold me. Though some in glee, 50 CO- MATES And some with cruel thorns. I say : "Not again would I live thee !" I turn to the eternal morn's strong call, I'm free! I look across the river to the green, The sweetest that was ever seen. Again it is my worship time. The angels sing a sweet, low chime From heaven town. I drop me down And pray. I say: ''For one sweet gift I pray, O Lord, to-day. Thou hast said : 'Ask and I will give it thee.' If ruinous ill. Forbid it me." A voice says to me in an undertone : "Hast thou heard the broken widow's moan, Or orphan's cry, my child? Art thou undefiled? Art thou worthy of such a gift as this. Art thou ready for such an unknown bliss?" It is so hard to pray For this sweet gift, dear Lord, to-day ; Lest, finding it, I soon shall see It is too good and fair for me. CO- MATES RETROSPECTION. There has often been a Magdalene Who might have been a Ruth to glean ; Others there are who glean all day, But at even have no gold-bound hay. The flowers cut with new-mown grain Call us back to youth again. The corn is dropped ; the flowers instead Are fondled to a hot, tired head. The flowers were cut by a good, strong hand ; bind them in for the dear home land ! Wither them not with a single tear, They have stopped growing in the soil down here. Carry in haste to the Father's feet, Give them to Him, for they are sweet. A view 1 give to you. I live Again in arms Soft-clothed and fair. The beating of her heart so warm Disturbs my little ear. I question why 'tis so. She tells me, then I grow From this to deeper thoughts. But what is deeper than the human heart ? The issues of eternal life do start 52 CO- MATES And bound from it ; The lamp of life is lit Upon its rub}' portal. It tells us we are mortal. It beats the strong tattoo To duty's brave, true march, And, beating, gives us new And vigorous, fair hope. The view I give to you Is this : a chair— a rocking chair— A child's fair hair Bathing a gentle, dovelike breast. The child is tired. It finds its rest Right there Beneath the shadow of her hair. The mother eyes, So mother-wise, Soft-petaled, are dropping too. As butterfly wings o'er flowers of blue She croons so low O'er brow of snow That bending you catch the words As downy nesting birds: "In Shadow Town Raindrops come down As smooth as milky pearls, To soothe sweet little girls In Shadow Town. In Shadow Town The breezes blow 53 CO-MATES O'er fields of sparkling snow, The rabbits hop and go, The redbirds flash and glow O'er fields of snow, In Shadow Town. There are such wondrous, wondrous things Jack Frostie sings While strong he clings To trees, And kills the bees With stings. In Shadow Town." Soft she treads To the little bed ; The head falls back upon little pillow As soft as any pussy willow. She dreams of rabbits, gray young bunnies. And fairy tables filled with honey And cakes delectable. Small wonder that she lingers long In smiling sleep o'er Mother's song. Is it wrong to anticipate ? To be at ease — to let the minutes wait Upon you, to run Into the future's realm And borrow sunshine from its years, And pluck its ripening fruit? Must interest be paid 54 CO- MATES With tears For this ? Let every day be good ; Thou mayst then borrow from thy bank thy past, And flood thy future with the glorious light and liberty of God. To rest is well ; To feel the spell Of God awhile Many a mile is gained thereby. I am well content to eat the fruit of now, The fruit that ripened on the bough Of long ago. Is it wrong to be elate O'er visions? To paint the rainbow Of sweetest missions On the air of the broad future ? 'Tis but a fragile fabric — the future. Ah, no! God spreads it well For thee, for me. He tells Us of joys unspeakable. No woe Shall harm thy dwelling ; But if thou art indeed willing, The good of the land Shalt thou have; The oil of gladness shall lave Thy brow. 55 L« ^f if CO- MATES I borrow from my past A heap of glowing gems. They make the life of God to start Within my heart, within my veins, And bear Me to the chair Again, The chair that held my mother. Beside me was my brother, Who is older than I. Years three Had crowned his head with golden curls When I, among the least of girls, Disturbed his realm of bliss. No kiss Of brotherly love He gave to me ; But held his selfish counsel And buzzed and bumbled As a bee A flower had caught. 'Twas naught To him. Time cleared the turbid stream. And later on fair dreams We had together. In rainy weather We read a book Near the chair While mother hands would smooth our hair. This view is clear. Though many years 56 CO-MATES Have drawn the shadows round. With strength. I draw the folds aside And gaze across the rooms — the years — That divide The past from now. I bow My head and peer; The Hght shines full upon it. I raise my head ; 'Tis a canvas red With life. The firelight throws Its glowing rose Upon the family there. The center w^as the chair And its fair occupant. The father, with the silvered hair of life's strong prime, Sat with his eyes half closed. While I, from time to time, Would tread upon his toes To awaken him. At last, held tight. In half-pretended fright I screamed. My canvases are lighted wxU With joy. I often tell Them o'er. And draw the curtain more Wide apart, 57 CO- MATES Knowing well There are those who will look with me And see them in the light of fair eternity. HER JOURNEY. She lay so still, so fair That day An angel came her gentle way ; They clothed her in her softest gray, And smoothed her hair. He took her by her dear, tired hand And said : ''A land Is just ahead; I will lead thee." They placed within her cold, cold hand A scarlet flower. With power It leads the broken hearts — A flame of love. O Death, the merry blood ran wild At thy approach, Leaving her delicate veins As deserted banquet halls. The drops gave frightened chase; They gave thee their happy place. The goblets held only dregs 58 CO-MATES Of her precious wine ; And thou didst drink them all, O winged terror ! O mother mine, Why didst thou leave me- Why leavedst thou me? The terror flies. Behold, an angel in disguise Stood, half concealed In the valley of deep shadow\ As children hide in deepest meadow Grasses and jump into the light Wild with delight, I see Why thou didst leave me; I see ! Each day I live through faith in Him, Each day fresh courage take ; And if at all my faith grow dim, An effort still I make. If I do sad things and wrong, And wander from the way ; Unto the Lord I sing a song, Unto the Lord I pray. And when my spirit on the song Attends the court of heaven, The bands of dire environment ■ From my soul and heart are riven 59 CO- MATES I tread along my strengthened way And sing my own true song; In lands of sad discouragement I linger never long. Sometimes I brush the valley grass, Sometimes I sing in dew, Sometimes the Saviour leads me past To mountains rough and new. The mountains give fresh life to me. The valleys give me rest ; I find in mountain and in vale The truest things and best. MR. AND MRS. RECHERCHE. Mr. and Mrs. Recherche Had come to town to stay During the winter. They were really Mr. and Mrs. Brown. Now Mr. Recherche had cornered some wheat, And how sweet His daughter did look ! They gave an evening, of course ; They invited a friend from out of town — 60 CO- MATES A beautiful young girl, but so poor ! Some could hardly endure her ! Count Gimcracksky, from over the sea, from St. Pe- tersburg, was there. He espied this lovely bird of the dell. He paid no more attention to the rich belle Than was absolutely necessary. He said : "Ah, a pearl from the deep, green sea of repose ! I propose." And so he did. My, my ! how Mr. and Mrs. Brown Did frown ! But you know thev had onlv recentlv come to town. d.d:s. When we have D.D. In close proximity to our names, Why, nothing we may say Can possibly be tame. Our decisions are final, Our sermons are beautiful and unique in the extreme, Our poems are dreams of loveliness ; And, O my ! how we do dress ! Why, I guess we do — Just look at the patent leather shoes. And the cravats. And the silk jiats. 6i CO- MATES Cholly Chappie is way back on the boulevard. Now, please do not think hard Of me for telHng you this. I felt that I should ; It's really for your own good. A MESSAGE FOR MRS. TATTLER. Hello, Mrs. Tattler ! Hello ! Hello, Mrs. Tattler ! I can't get the old goose. Her tongue is loose enough when you don't want it to wag! Hello ! run over to your neighbor's and desiccate the news. Cousin Jim's wife has a pair of five-dollar shoes, And the handsomest tailored gown In the town. She's just whipping it around In the mud. Say, you mortgaged your house and lot to pay For that gown. You didntf Well, I am surprised. I supposed you did. You're taking such a lively interest in it. He'll have to mortgage his? Whew ! That will be fun for you! Good-by ! 62 CO- MATES BRAGGITY MENS. Es ve old braggity mens Don't do nothin' but sit around and grin When women begins to chatter. They think it's funny to hear the clatter of cups And their discussi'ns on money. But they don't Hke to spend money murch. Mamma ses so, And she knows. Why, oncte papa wouldn't give mamma money for a dimin tiara, And she fumped him on ve head — so — O— Ma'am ? I must go. 63 JUL I ttoa