File:Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 109 June to November 1904 (1904) (14596040610).jpg

Identifier: harpersnew0109various (find matches)
Title: Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 109 June to November 1904
Year: 1904 (1900s)
Authors: various
Subjects:
Publisher: New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers
Contributing Library: Brigham Young University-Idaho, David O. McKay Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Brigham Young University-Idaho

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ughto go to school, he cried. The young mothercaught her breath, andbending down, held oneof the babys handsagainst her face. He will be big enoughby and by, Addie Lee,Timothy said, in gentlestpalliation; and when heis, I know we ought to beglad an thankful hellhave what weve beenseein them other lit-tle children a-havin thismorning. Pride of motherhoodleaped lightly past itsown misgiving. Blesshis heart, I know helllearn as fast as any ofem, she said. Its right for everygeneration to have a bet-ter chance than the onethat went before it.The thought had beengrowing on Timothy allthe spring, and he ut-tered it now with thesatisfaction one feels innewly discovered truth. Theres the olding-house, now— Melissa Deanrupted eagerly, seeing hismeaning. You know,Timothy, Ive thought ofit so many times! Just what we seebefore us—it is a picture of the past withall its pathos, and of the new with all itshope! She never tried to put what shefelt any differently because she had be- meet- mter-
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I SHOULD STIFLE IF IT WLRfci NOT FOR MY B<JOKS come lettered beyond him. Comprehen-sion is not essentially a thing of thetrained intellect. The three were silent. Melissas eyestravelled along the few irregular and nar- 146 HARPERS MONTHLY MAGAZINE. row paths among the low graves aroundthem. Here and there a yellow wild-flower grew, undisturbed by human step.On some of the gray headstones, roughand unshaped, the passion-vine hungits green leaves and purple blossomswith their symbols of deathless loveand suffering. Then she looked oncemore at the humble man and wom-an beside her, with their sincere andsweet faces. But there was more in the past thanpathos. She held out her slim handtowards the old church. Through howmany years, these long years which noone but ourselves will ever know about,it has borne its witness. You mean the meeting-house— The old light flashed in her clear eyes. Yes. Think what it has meant to us;to us who have had so little beside it; tothese men and women ly

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