THREE COQUETTES.
THE FICKLE TRIO--SOCIAL WHIRLWINDS.
You say, "Tell us all you see." Young ladies, there is a
mixed-up state of affairs, yet one must use good judgment, so
steady your minds for correct appreciation of the kindness of your
near associates and friends. These Fourths of July mental
pyrotechnics are not safe playthings, my dear young friends.
Here are outlined so many love gifts, with pleasures too
short-lived. You are pain-giving iconoclasts.
Heart-breakers, said the three, laughing.
You have spoken correctly, for here are broken, also incomplete
circles and squares. These imperfect lines so near the life
symbols _key and wish_ with shattered urns and crushed flowers.
Ah! and here are some blighted trees! This is both the spring
time of your lives as of the seasons, so have care for the sad
heart tears you cause and will reap. Lives are oft thus crushed.
You are acting your funny parts as now you think.
"Know thyself," young man. Trifle not with the happy, little
blonde lady, whose widowed mother passes sleepless nights
thinking of her two pretty daughters. Neither be too attentive to
the young matron, whose master carries the dagger by his side.
L. and H. seem not good letters of names nor localities for you.
Yet, you possess some fine mental gifts. Good books are near.
You girls will soon drift apart by a stolen letter and some dark
cloud of distrust, though you will need each other. See you the
separate roads, with the harsh wind blowing the leafless
branches of the trees? and yet near by shines the beautiful
meadow, just beyond your present thoughts. Strive to cultivate
more of the duties of needed practical life and hopes. These
high thought signs will not serve you, when life's autumn
comes.
Now listen, little Brunette. Accept the old love in about two
years. He will return to you from a distance. You smile, yet you
will not wed with any one now associated. Do not, then, deceive
him. He is keen of mind and heart. See, his sky is clear, and the
ring of promise is in the light.
Yes, we can now see these outlines. You are a psychologist.
You make us see them, as you desire, young man. Note you
their forthcoming. I cannot impel these realities. Emma is the
good name of your best friend, young man. She loves you
thoughtfully. Cultivate her rare graces. The mirror is clear that
is near her home. The birds sing and the children are joyful.
Fine symbols. The home-garden, too, is beautiful. Let us trace
the lines. The old, sick lady, inmate of the home will die in the
Autumn. That will be a decisive change for that family. Do not
allow them to pass out of your kindly care, if real friends you
would possess. Lives can be strangely made or unmade oft
times. One must be wise in order to be happy. These pitchers,
with stout handles, as here seen, signify some lucky circumstances.
The supposed wealth of this globe-trotting, dark clothed lady
friend is to have a big fall. See the objects! The trunks are all
upset and she is in ill temper and very self-willed. See the head?
A mule is near her.
How curiously you read some of these things. I shall note them
more fully, though you do not compliment us three at all. Are
we, then, so soulless in our innocent pleasures? Pray, tell.
I but delineate some truths as your benefactor, and as I am given
them for each. You all love popularity and excitement.
Oh, yes, things appear true in part, as to a few simple things, yet
it is very pleasant to hear you read these fanciful figures. I know
the lady Emma, also the worrysome, aged, sick woman. I expect
an upset at her death, yet we hope for good results, though you
promise me irritating labors by this looked-for change.
How amusing this big frog, the magician or joker, as you term
him. I did not know the tad-pole was so gifted.
Some months later proves the death, and several of the stated
events more than verified. With the young folks asking eager
questions, the clouds had gathered. The lame man came into
view. The good time not yet. Confusion and discord revealing
some added cares as threaded together by the symbols as
previously shown, and from the note-book of the young man.
The hated lame man of letters having rudely flustrated the game
of their lives, yet he was just, though believed to be the cruel
enemy, from the broken, wavy lines and cutting things about
him, then facing towards them. Mental reason, or impressment
plying its parts as touching these mingled, and confusion
atmospheres, proving that all things affect us, consciously or
otherwise, relating to life.
These intricate and wonderful relationships--these cosmic laws--
bind all mankind together for better or, more often, for
needless sorrow and trials. Yet here was some good side to
these life-lines, for their own choosing, had each been more
unselfish and just. Are we, then, arbiters of our own fate? It is
still an open question to many, though there is a time for all
things.
LET US NOT BE FATALISTS.
We must seize the handle of the subject, when the door is
waiting to open. Each association makes some conditions, brief
or life-long. We are not bound to be enslaved forever, though
nothing pays but justice, kindness, patience and useful duty, if
peace we would enjoy here or hereafter.
IN THE CHRIST SPIRIT.
There is at least one good, guardian angel ever ready to aid in
each life, my dear young friends. One of these ladies did marry
that mentioned first love after many sad disappointments, with
little intrigues, as afterward she said: "Be neither too fickle, too
self-opinionated, nor too _submissive_. Be something useful.
Learn to reason with head, heart and soul." The young man is
still plodding on in pessimism. This best friend Emma is still
alone, yet working out some of the noble purposes of her
helpful, progressive life, knowing that "her own will surely
come to her" some good time, and that this brief school-life is
not the end of anything nobly sought for. Simulating big things
allowed the young man to belittle many noble facts in nature,
thus stunting his manly growth, and overgrowing this chilling
pessimism with smart retorts.
One really desiring to aid humanity can become inspired into
consistent kindness, well centered in the lines of forecast, as
also in the cup reading pleasure. So observe the figures, point
them out, summing up as these gems of thought come to life.
One too lazy or disobliging cannot grow these many latent
powers. These are as yet but dimly apprehended. All persons
possess some special gift. God meant it so, and that we give
hope and joy in all honest ways. So try your gift in this
mingling of your aspirations for lofty expressions, which
transmit pleasing convictions, strange as at first these may
appear. Each soul, as reading or listening, creates an atmosphere
of either flippancy, depression, courage, trust, or some vital
power.
Some persons there are, who make us feel happy and well by
simply looking at us, or thinking of us, with that subtle power
that cures one of melancholia, discouragement, or irritability.
Writing a letter with a soul is good. You know there is the soul
of things, a fact in nature. I know of many cases, on turning
backward in memory's pages. One special one of a dear musical
friend, who became very ill from over-work, with nervous
headache and sick stomach, so that all hope of an expected
musical evening had to be abandoned, as she took her bed in
disgust, with sore disappointment. About an hour later, not
entirely unexpected, there called at her home a beloved brother,
whose melodious voice in song proved to the lady better than
any medicine, as he quietly sat down to the piano to sing that
sweetly pathetic song:
"Only waiting till the shadows
Have a little longer grown."
Hark? said the sick lady quickly sitting up at hearing the first
notes. Oh, that is my dear brother, Peter--his name signifieth
Lord. Please aid me to dress. I am really better, I am, indeed, do
not fear. I must go down to hear him sing. His charming voice
has lifted me into strength. I will take the tea. Though very pale,
she entertained that evening, and even sang, until midnight. Not
one of the party at that time was a Christian Science believer
either.
We are only in the kindergarten of life. Some time we shall all
possess the high art of selecting our friends and our life
companions, my dear, eager, anxious inquirers. We have power
in ourselves to grow. This was simply an unadulterated fact,
proving the power of mind, soul and spirit on itself from the
stimulus of the brother; there being also very much efficacy in
the harmony of tones as well as of personality. I wish more
persons could be conscious of the power of the voice on the
actions of all we come in contact with. We are now touching but
slightly on the esoteric, as carnal desires are yet in full evidence.
I have now in mind a sensitive lad of fourteen, who, after
four trying years ran away from a really good home and a
step-mother, because of her harsh tones. Though a good woman, his
soul-life seemed to suffer.
"The way she says things," said he, "is awful to something in
me, so that I want to fight. I can't help but shiver. Oh, I don't
know what it is. I want to be good. I know she does some nice
things."
Though the young philosopher chose for himself a severe
taskmaster, with plenty of added work, yet, with some special
kindliness in trustful tones that proved part-pay, some needed,
minor chord was touched in the soul-life of the lad, that gave
him hope in himself and in his future, which proved very true.
He has long been a kind and useful citizen, in precepts for the
young, and an object lesson to many. A practical, reasoning
benefactor of the race, as was the kindly Charles Dickens in the
interest of child-life. So let us work. These times are infinitely
larger, broader, and more full of promise to the world.
Our musical friend has left the shadows that were then
gathering about her life. Gone into the more perfect light and
life of her true inheritance, with God the loving parent of all
human and divine joys.