Wilhelmina Stitch

“ To see a body carrying his load as if it were a joy and not fate's goad, no thought of giving in, nor turning back, although the path be rough and skies grow black. Stumbling, yet singing, the while the race is run—this is indeed a grand sight 'neath the sun. Does it not make one yearn to cheer aloud, feeling most humble, yet exceeding proud, to watch a fellow-being lose a race, sore handicapped, but with a gallant grace? Indeed, it is a grand sight 'neath the sun to see defeat so very nobly won! ”

“ Oh, Robbie Burns, if I could find a golden phrase that sweetly sings, a silvern phrase of kingly mind, a magic phrase with fairy wings—I'd weave, I'd weave each precious phrase into a song for your delight; for we who love your tuneful lays are toasting you this very night. But, after all, why should I seek unusual, unfamiliar words? So freely does your own heart speak in songs that lilt and trill like birds. A simple phrase, then, be my choice for all who toast the Bard to-night: "We drink to that Immortal Voice whose simplest songs give most delight." ”

“ Each season brings such gifts for joyous hearts, there is no sorrow when the Spring departs. And when late summer slowly drops her leaves, signals to Autumn, there is none who grieves, knowing the beauty that will softly fall upon the earth whene'er Jack Frost may call. And there are books, dear child, such constant friends that serve with joy until the journey ends. And friends more precious still than books who give us clasp of hand and tender looks, tears for our sorrow, laughter for our joy, the golden element in life's alloy. ”

“ Clipped wings, indeed, can take you far; well, far enough to see the sun arise, the silver radiance of the evening star, the trustfulness within a baby's eye—lovely, indeed, these little journeys are. I know, dear soul, the cage at times seems small, and you are weary of the daily round. Better clipped wings than ne'er a wing at all—at least you rise with ease above the ground. You can poise level with a daisy's head, or with a nest within an old forked bough, and on towards a hollyhock bright red, and higher, higher still—as you are now, upon a fleecy cloud with crimson dyed. ”

“ Now let Jack Frost come back again and scatter snowflakes everywhere, and let him star the window pane with frosty breath—I will not care. For I've a precious rendezvous with one in green and gold attire and with another robed in blue—this thought sets all my heart afire. Some magic pots, bulbs buried deep, all in the sweet autumnal hours. My little bulbs now fall asleep, but soon they will bring forth spring flow'rs. With Spring I have a rendezvous, we'll meet upon my window-sill when in one pot are scillas blue and in the next, a daffodil! ”

“ Cobwebs that looked so frail a baby's breath could tear to bits their lacy filigree were quite unharmed by this attack of death beneath which fell both man and masonry. And thus it is in life; the storm-swept soul can still retain its web of lovely dreams though hostile winds deter us from the goal and oft we have to ford hate's swirling streams. Though merciless the tempests that have swept over a human life, frail as a wraith, still has the battered soul with honour kept its beauteous web of hope and love and faith. ”

“ The smallest place has magic things to tell to those who have an understanding wit, a lamp of friendliness that is forever lit. Often we hear a foolish person say, "How you can live in this place, I don't know!" And yet the sun gives of his golden ray; nor do the stars withhold their silver glow; flourish the trees, birds sing and blossoms grow. 'Tis not the place, but quality of mind that builds a palace or a prison bare. With ears and eyes we may be deaf and blind to harmony and beauty passing fair. There is no spot but Friendship blossoms there. ”

“ I have seen Beauty time again; in clouds by day, in stars by night, in trees refreshed by gentle rain, in sunbeams dancing with delight. But you, gay Dahlias, I love best. I count each one a precious friend. You seem to live with such a zest. And oh! your colours, how they blend! White, pink, and red, and saffron, too, and vibrant hues that glow like flames. Each day I pass, I nod to you. I can't remember all your names! One day (now this should make you proud) I saw a girl, too young for grief, walk down the path with head low-bowed ”

“ There is a field of precious thought where eager minds may daily stray; where blossoms rare are never bought, but grow for all to bear away. And there is yet another field, the field of Service, far-flung, wide; the beauty that this land can yield, above all else is glorified. To be a reaper, I must try, in fields that Life has sown for me. My sheaves of beauty will I tie with silken threads of memory. ”

“ I hear, well, almost any hour, a secret whispered by the breeze. The sun's more generous with his gold; he spilt it at my feet to-day. A happy wren was very bold and carolled forth a roundelay. The sturdy tit with sable breast, the blue tit, lovely little thing, are pecking with the greatest zest at fat a-dangling from a string! On every slender willow bough (with ecstasy this news I write) the Persian Kittens frolic now; the boisterous wind gives them delight. They jump about like anything; and how their silver fur coats gleam! They prove that it is really Spring—and not a tantalizing dream! ”

“ Your baby pleads, "Don't leave me by myself." You place a night-light on a little shelf, and baby smiles and feels quite comforted, and thus companioned, snuggles into bed. The road seems very dark and long to you; the hand-clasp of a friend, a smile that's true, and that grim darkness is dispersed by love and brightly shines the sun or moon above. The mind that gropes in darkness for the truth, and sees a little light is rich, forsooth. ”

“ Forever groping, groping, till fear prevents us hoping, and the journey's end is nothing but a grim and silent wall. But troubles aren't like caverns, take heart again and smile. They're tunnels, dark enough, 'tis true; but I know well, and so do you, there's always daylight coming, though the tunnel be a mile. Then let us, when in trouble, repeat this happy truth, "We're passing through a sorrow, but we'll emerge to-morrow into the sun of happiness, for tunnels end, forsooth!" ”

“ There's the daffodil, the primrose, and the small forget-me-not; the ruddy, flaming, fragrant, rich, velvety wallflower; anemones and pansies, and aubrietia's purple plot; forsythia grows more golden with the passing of each hour. There's the yellow-blossomed berberis with promise of blue fruit; japonica the lovely, coral-tinted fragile stars. And a blackbird, with the sweetness of an ancient, mellow flute, is trilling thrilling quavers, and ecstatic little bars! But the glory of the garden is a stately, queenly tree, magnolia the beautiful, in robes of dazzling white. ”

“ Oh, joy it is to tramp the woods again and smell the earth fresh washed by Autumn rain, and hear the thrilling, fascinating sound of Chestnuts plopping on the leaf-strewn ground and cry aloud unthinking, "Oblionker," as in the long-ago, "'tis my first conker."
THE BEAUTY-REAPER
Rich fields of beauty 'neath the sun are yours and mine, our heritage. And there is work for every one; and lasting joy's the living wage. There is a field of lovely sights, where eyes may glean, if they but go; may garner such intense delights as only Beauty-lovers know. ”

“ All neatly labelled, row on row, and high upon the topmost shelf are placed preserves that gleam and glow and are entirely for herself. For these are Memory's preserves of beauty garnered with delight, when branches hid their gracious curves beneath spring blossoms, pink and white.
WHEN FRIENDSHIP DIES
Nothing so sad in all the year, nothing so sad on land or sea, as friendship that we once held dear, becoming but a memory. Not e'en a memory to hold, as one will clasp a precious thing; for once a friendship has grown cold, no comfort can remembrance bring. ”

“ For some have ranged to hills of happiness, and some in sorrow's vale are out of sight. And some have wandered far upon the road that leads to memories of long ago, and when they reached my childhood's dear abode, they frolicked with a dream-child that I know. ”

“ Sailors are we and look to Thee, O Captain of Life's crew, for guidance kind, though strong the wind, for guidance safe and true. Then without fear; with right good cheer, although the skies be dark, harbour in sight, towards the light, we'll steer Life's sea-tossed bark. ”

“ I bring joy, but also sorrow, all my children must know grief. Buoyant spring, then on the morrow Autumn's dried and falling leaf. Success I bring and golden laughter; Man I help to high estate. Disappointments follow after—this my way with small or great. Work I give as well as pleasure ”

“ Now, when we feel that inner urge, when o'er the soul kind feelings surge, when we are suddenly aware that we have more than just our share; when words of praise invade the heart, and when we see grief's tears upstart—oh! ”

“ Rare is the genius who can leap whilst others plod and slowly creep along the stony path and steep, yet also reach the goal. Though genius is a precious thing so brightly hued, so swift of wing, yet lacking it, there is no sting, if we keep faith with our own soul. ”

“ To see—and this at times we all have done—a body smiling though there be no cause; fighting against great odds without a pause; fighting and smiling, knowing grim defeat, yet keeping breath enough to call life sweet! ”

“ I would rejoice—to hear Mankind. I love to climb to some high peak and watch the stars at night. I hear the voice of Silence speak; it fills me with delight. Of this my soul soon weary grows, for always do I find the current of my being flows—towards Mankind. I'd love a house well tucked away among tall trees, wide-spreading trees ”

“ Yea, lovely is the garden, beyond the power of words. But lovelier is the promise of the beauty yet to come. O sound the garden's praises, you happy, singing birds! For we, poor tongue-tied mortals, by such beauty are struck dumb. ”

“ To think those fingers deigned to do such things—they that have power to weave a potent spell to bear the heart aloft on eagle's wings, or drown the soul beneath the music's swell. Fingers interpreting the mind in pain ”

“ I read this phrase in childhood's days—that poet wrote for me. For now I know we all do go like mariners in life, on seas unknown and all alone 'mid rocks of fear and strife. We bend our sails to meet Life's gales. O untried is the breeze. Our boat is slight and dark the night, uncharted are Life's seas. And it's the truth, we all, forsooth, have little ships to sail. And oft we think we'll surely sink beneath the furious gale. For each one knows as on he goes the way is rough and dim. ”

“ The bogy of loneliness has gone for ever. She now has friends that visit by the score. And all of them are pleasant and so clever, coming when she desires, at noon or four, and no one waits to knock upon the door! They slip into the room on magic wings borne by the ether for her keen delight. One gives her household hints, another sings, one speaks of theatres or of those who write, and she sees much that once was out of sight. For now she travels as she sits and sews, and solitude no longer hurts or palls. ”

“ Wouldn't it be awful if troubles were like caves? Like dark and gloomy hollows where daylight never follows, and no sound ever enters but the echoes of the waves? If troubles were like caverns—ah! woe betide us all. ”

“ If Fate should bring a nasty shock, if Life should give the real hard knock, if everything should go awry—it's Failure urges us to try. 'Tis Failure says, "I won't give in. I have a second chance to win." ”

“ May you have courage as you grope through unlit paths along life's way. There is so much for man to do; and brains may plot and brains may plan; but this our golden hope for you, may you have strength to play the man! ”

“ They are fastidious creatures when they eat, turning from verdure trampled by man's feet and seeking pastures that look fresh and sweet. They are, indeed, embodiment of grace, moving with dignity from place to place, impossible to think a deer's heart base! ”

“ The whole of life flowing through fingers white! To think those fingers will let loose black hair, fling off gold dress, and late, this very night, lie, like good children, wrapped in dreams most fair! ”

“ And Life grips fast his eager hand and says, "The midnight bell has tolled and you're a man, this understand, for you are twenty-one years old." And here's our wish and here's our hope, Oh, bold adventurer and gay! ”

“ Two thousand million people—then what can be the worth of a single human being? A very little bit!" Two thousand million people, with troubles like my own, with work that bores them sometimes, with bills that must be paid, with longings for companionship, desire to be alone, and ghosts that stalk the future of which they are afraid. Two thousand million people, with burdens they must bear, with sorrows and with troubles and foes to put to rout. ”

“ Big spoons for soup and small for tea and those that serve cook's artistry and spoons we've bought on holiday to prove we've really been away! Of all the spoons I've ever seen in any place that I have been, the one I like the best of all is specially made and neat and small, its handle looped that it can fit the dimpled hand that clutches it—the spoon that makes a dozen trips to Baby's laughing, rosy lips! ”