Lamar Fontaine, looking back after a long life of adventure, writes
thus of a parting with his mother:
Those long-ago days now rise before me in all their vividness.
As I pen these lines, nearing the seventy-seventh milestone in
life’s rugged pathway, I feel the loving kiss yet burning on my
lips where she prest it as she bade me “good-by.” There are some
things in our life that time does not efface, and this is one
of them. They are like the brand of red-hot iron that sears the
tender hide of the bleating calf; once burned in, it lasts as
long as life. I can see the last wave of her hand as she watched
us move off across the prairie, and the picture is branded in my
brain.--“My Life and My Lectures.”
(2108)