Page 108

106 (Longmeade con.)

Rebecca T. Miller’s acct. of the way the
women citizens of a small town in South
Dakota managed to clean it up, secured good
schools, food inspection, and corrected many
abuses by the simple means of attending to
their civic duties themselves, thereby proving their
fitness for public housekeeping.

Sarah T. Miller gave us first a funny story
of the mother who wrote to her small son’s teacher
“I am afraid Johnny is not trying enough”, and
the reply was, “Indeed he is, there is not a more
trying boy in the school.” S. J. M. revived old
memories by the poem “Interlude” from the pen of
E. W. Wilcox once called “The Asso. Poetess”, which shall
be copied in full.

“The days grow shorter, the nights grow longer,
The headstones thicken along the way.
And life grows sadder, but love grows stronger
For those who walk with us every day.
The tear comes quicker, the laugh comes slower,
The courage is lesser, to do and to dare.
And the tide of joy in the heart falls lower
And seldom covers the reef of care.
Then let us clasp hands as we walk together
And let us speak softly in loves sweet tone
For no man knows on the morrow whether
We two pass on, or but one alone.”

M. G. T. Moore gave part of a most interesting
letter from Edith Ferris to her father Edward
Ferris, both of whom have spent months in
S. S. Edith and her sister Katherine have
for 15 or 20 yrs. conducted a successful school
in Paris, but their business was fairly broken
up by the war, and they concluded to go to
Switzerland last summer, taking Mrs. Ferris
and her sister, two infirm old ladies of over
80 yrs., a companion and a maid. Finding
that it was necessary for them to return to
their Paris home, they started from Geneva in
Dec. and after surmounting tremendous difficulties
they succeeded. But for the indomitable energy
and determination of Edith Ferris, and her talent as
a linguist, it could never have been done.

M. G. T. M. also offered a short poem, sent