Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, June 16, 1895, Page 16

16 THE OMAHA DAILY BEE: SUNDAY, JUNE 16, 5 - Rocker, price... This Servant's Iron Bed. woven wire springs, price 9 This Sol1d Ouk Polished Cobler $2.00 v $4.25 generally, but facturers, far demanded, in Garpets . . MATTI Price yurner Gaso- tove, price... $2.45 line g sions in view of the fact that they thus s has arouszd the | and near, choos: any way, anything but a This Antique Combination Wardrobe Folding Bed, price.. Gasoline Stoves~ GASOLIN Pric GASOLINE Price GASOLINE Price GASOLINE Price 1 GALLON Price ALLON Price 5 GALLON Price o1L CAN— P WE ARE THE LARGEST HO USE FURNISHERS IN THE WEST. calously of the trale, $16.50 rand n:ar, Wed “Liv This is Ouar motto i e “One Price System.” A B8 i COMBINATION BOOKCASI OAK ( TABLE Price markable growth of th: People’s Furniture and not know, how Baby Carriages BABY CARRIAGES Price BARY C Price BRI 6100 BABY CARRIAGES Price BABY CARRIAGE Price . BABY CARRIAG west, and a We have ¥ 1 ¥ This Ludies' Rec Price ~$3.00 fiin 4190 8.50 - 0.25 *12.00 Jarpet Company has not o:ily astonished the west , A8 w2 are to blam: for selling goods lower than they have ever been sold before, and at prize: which dealers herein our large cities say will not pay a living profit. e¢—as they do—to make us the sole outdet for their goods in th 1 more goods, andare at noivisk or expznse, p fuir ficld and no favo tern methods into the west, chief and forzmost is ¢ the main seeret of our being able to build up suzh an extensive tana and on to the coast, If the best manu willing to make us large conces- v, are we to blam:? anl let liv never asked, or " We were bold enongh to introduce indeed, the chicf corner stone to our prospearity and mail order trade over Nebraska, Towa, Dakota, Wyoming, Minnesota, Mon« Relhoerators, CI 1CE HARD WQOD 1CK s HARD WOOD HOUSE FURNISHING MADE EASY. We are aware of the fact that the r ARD WOOD CHEST— TIARD WOOD CHBST Price 15 CH REFRIGERATOR— REFRIGERATOR— Price § 10 00 820 00 30 00 %50 00 875 00 WATEVER OTHERS ADVERTISE YOU WILL FIND cUR PRICES LOWER. 8¢ Lorruduwre & (a This Solid Price..... Cash or Monthly or Weekly Payments. $100 00 wort| k Bideboard, Our Terms wo .81 0) down—81 00 worth........ %2 00 dowu—81 00 w worth %3 00 month worth 87 00 month worth &8 00 month #10 00 month CLIMBING THE HIMALAYAS Experience of a Traveler in Regions Ex- plored by Humboldt, SENSATIONS FELT AT HIGH ALTITUDES The Mighty Asiatlc Helghts that Overtop the Earth—DifMculties Encountered and Overcome In Scaling Peaks Far Above the Clouas, (Copyright, 1895, by S. 8. McClure, Limited.) LONDON, June 1—It would seem that mountaineering, more than any other pas- time, except golf, 1s full of fascination for men of intellectual mark! Among the seniors the names of John Tyndall, Leslie Stephen, Prof. Bryce, James David Forbes, John Ball, Justice Wills, Loppe, the painter, and Signor Sella, sometime prime minister of Italy, readily suggest themselves in evidence; while, latest in point of time, we have William Martin Conway, who has not only traversed the Alps from end to end and explored the Karakoram Himalayas, but come for- ward, in the ‘liberal Interest, as the Parliamentary candidate for Bath, and is also chairman of the Incorperated Soclety of Authors, was the first Roscoe professor of art in University college, Liverpool, and will presently, 1t the prophets are to be trusted, sit in John Ruskin's chair as Slade professor in the University of Oxford, In the beginning, when he was at Cam- bridge, Mr. Conway was by way of being a mathematician. As it is, his mathematical talents are of solid service to him when he is gurveying or mapping a new country—a task to which he attaches so much importance and devotes such sedulous attention that the map which accompanies his great work, “Climbing in the Himalayas,” cost him no Jess than four months' hard and continuous work. . But the higher mathematics failed to oc- cupy Mr. Conway's Interests permanent and as we sat in his house at No. 1 Clanricarde Gardens, Bayswater, the subject about which he first talked to 'me was the history of art. The hall and stalrcase and drawing room have all the characteristics of an art museum—a museum quite as interest- ing in its way as some of the museums mentioned in the guide books. The moun- tains have contributed comparatively little to its embellishments A MOUNTAIN CLIMBER FROM SIXTEEN As_ my eye wandered 'round the large Juxurious drawing room and recalled the palms and the fountain on the staircase, the wonder crossed my mind that a man who had buflt his soul a pleasure house so lordly should ever be willing to leave it for the wilds—to risk his neck on sullen precipices aud sleep out in & windy tent upon a horrid glacier. Yet, when one looked at Mr. Con- way and marked what manner of man he was, it was impossible to retain that wonder Of moderate height, with sturdy well-knit trume, with muscles' that demanded vigorous exercise for their well being, he clearly sould not be contented with the contemplative life alone. So that 1 could easily imagine Mr. Conway in nalled boots and knicker- bockers, and Norfolk jacket, threading the e of an lce-fall, though I only saw him n the garb of polished civilization, sur- rounded by pictures and curios and bric-a- b ‘I climbed the Breit-horn" said, “when I was Mr. Conway 16, and I have gone on climbing ever gince Nor woul adfuit that climbing was a Bangérous amusement. r “Ot course,”” he said. “there are dangerous climbs, but you go Lo them knowing what they are. 1f you deliberately climb up a slope down which stones or avalanches fall, @8 ou the Monte Rosa side of Macuquaga, you naturally take your chance of belug Ewept aw But foolhardiness avoided and the proper precautions taken, mountaineering 1s not dange I have been climbing for than twenty years, and I have one was when 1 was skylarking and fell off a rock. “How high was the rock?’ I naturally asked, “Oh, about as high as the arch at Hyde Park corner. 1 was bruised a bit, of course, and laid up for a few days, but it was only a trifle. It was extraordinary luck. A man who considers that it is only a trifle to fall off a rock as high ds the arch at Hyde Park corner, has certainly one, at least, of the qualifications of a successful mountaineer. Mr. Conway has been not only a successful, but also a useful mountaineer. WHAT IS YET POSSIBLE. The rest of our talk was about the famous Himalayan expeditions; and I asked Mr. Conway his opinion as to the possibilities of mountain climbing, “We know, of course,” he answered, “that a man may go as high as the highest moun- tain top in a balloon, and come down un- comfortable, but alive, But then the man in the balloon is sitting still, whereas the man on the mountain has to work. That is to say, he bas to waste issue, and the ques- tion {8 whether he can manage to get his tissues sufficiently repaired. For the repair of the tissues the blood has to be constantly oxidized by inhalation; and at these alti- tudes the supply of oxygen is Nmited, and the power of absorbing oxygen is lessened. The consequence is that, when he gets above ' certain height, the climber tends to be poisoned, much as the prisoners in the black hole at Calcutta were poisoned, or as any of us begin to be poisoned when we sit in overcrowded, overheated and unventilated W. M. CONWAY. rooms. The sensations too are pretty much the same, only far more pronounced.” I asked for a further description of the sensations, and Mr, Conway detailed them for me: “Headache—the same splitting headache that you gt in overcrowded tooms. Short- ness of breath—a tendency to pant wpon the least exertion. A general feeling of sickness and above ail @ terrible lassitude—a sense that the slightest movement is an effort.” “But not, I suppose, the sort of lassitude that_tempts you to turn back?" “No, not that. One feels too indolent to begin 'to do apything. 1 would sit for a couple of minutes wondering whether 1t was worth while to take up the trouble to wind up my watch. But as for turning back when one has started that. The impetus behind one is too great. Ona has come ail the way from England to do the thing, and so one must go on with it. The tendency would be rather, I should think, to continue to go on too fir, and so get benighted on the mountaln eide, or pass the point where action was possibl EXPERIE IN THE HIM AYAS. Baltoro glaciers, and cut his way on which human foot has ever trod. his endured. lad an accident. The pearcsh approach to et e all prepares you for it one does not think of Then Mr. Coaway traced the course of his journey for me on the map, telling me how he had crossed the great Hispar and Biafo and through the labyr.nth of seracs ard reactel the ton of Pioueer peak, the highest point on the giobe But tallk was more of the majesty of the nery than of the toll and hardship he | incident and would not admit thal his party “There ls nothing in Switzerland that at Everything in the Himalayas fs on such an immensely larger scale. The precipices are higher, blacker, more sheer and more appalling. The gla- clers are infinitely vaster. Even the Great Aletsch glacier, with its thirteen miles of ice, is nothing compared with the Hispar and Biafo_glaciers, which between then took us ten days to traverse, and sometimes for twenty miles on a stretch have greit bowlders pited upon their surface. The ice falls are steeper, longer and more difficult. In Switzerland, as you know, to pass an ice fall, however tortuous, is only an incilent in a long day’s climb. In the Karakorams it sometimes took us a whole day to ascend 100 yards, and even then we might find our way barred by some unpassable crevasse. As for the fce falls at the head of the Baltoro glacier, it took us three days to get from the bottom to the top of it, and we had to vasses—the one at 19,000 and 20,000 feet above the sea.” But it was by way of this Baltoro glacier that Mr. Conway made his big ascent, and again I asked for details, and he polnted to his fellow traveler, McCormick's picture, and told me all about it. “Here,” he began, “is the head of the ice fall, where our last camp was pitched, ana here is the camp above the serdcs, where McCormick sat to make his eketch of the mountain " & Heo said it, not after the manner of a man who was conscious of having passed through any exceptional adventures, but in the maiter- of-fact straightforward tones of a man who might direct you how to find your way from St. Paul's cathedral to the Strand, But I had heard of these seracs before. McCor- mick, who had no graduated education in seracs, had told me of them, and had filled in the details far more luridly. . He had spoken of the perilous position of the tent | which stood upon a emall plateau of ice, with yawning precipices of ice on every side of it. He had spoken of the horrible heat within { 2n of the terrible cold without, and of the { horrible sense of sickness that overcame him whenever he wasted tissue by exertion. He had even told me that the crevasses were so near at hand and the sides of them so slip- pery that whenever a man had occaskon to go outside the tent for any purpose he had to be held tight by a_rope securely fastened around his waist. But Mr. Conway went straight ahead with his narrative as though such details of danger and discomfort were too Insignificant for a businessiike moun- taineer fo talk about. He continued, point- ing with the poker EIGHT HOURS MOUNTING 3,000 FEET. “When we left the fce fall, which ran further up the mountain side than the ice falls usually do {n Switzerland, the next step was to get on the ridge. It was toler- ably steep, but not hard going, as, for the most part, we only had to travel over snow. Then, when we had got upon the ridge, we had to follow it. 'We could not keep upon the crest, becavse it was heavily corniced to our left, and it we had trodden on the cornice 1t would certainly, sooner or later, have given way; so we had to keep along a little below the ridge, with its crest on our left, The ascent was not very rapid, but it was blue ice all the way, covered only with the thinnest possible crust of frozen snow, orisp and sparkling in the sunlight. The sun beat upon our heads and roasted us. the other at bitten. And, we had to ¢ all the way along t with the fce ax every step we took. Fortunately we had climbing lrons, strapped to our boots like skates, and this enabled us to cut the steps smaller than would have been necessary if we bad been without them. Even as it was, however, we could not cut, on an average, more than two steps & minute, and %0 it took us about eight hours to climb 3,000 feet. We did it, however, and reached the top at a quarter to 3 in the afternoon. And then we rested and I examined the guide Zurbrig and frost that ridge, gen's pulse with the sphygmograph. AN ACCIDENT COMING DOWN. I had already seen those sphygmographic tracinge. A man of sclerice who was look- ing at them with me had assured me that they showed that Mr. Conway's own heart was In a weaker state than his guide's. We did net talk of that, however, but 1 made baste to ask Mr. Conway about the accl dent which I had heard had imperiled party during the descent. With charsecter- istic British phlegm he made light of the had ever been in peril “It was nothing at a;” he said. ‘It Mc- Cormick hado't made & plcture of it 1} make two camps in the middle of the cre- | Before it rose our feet were nearly numbel | his | shouldn't even have referred to it book.” I pressed him, however, to describe the thing which he belittled, and Mr. Conway told the story, characteristically pooh-poohing it the while. “It happened on the way down,” he said. “We hadn't enough climbing irons to go round and so Hark Bir, the Gurkha, had to g0 without. As I told you, the steps which we cut in the ice were small and of course the | heat of the sun had partially thawed them and made them smaller and less secure and as the nails In Hark Bir's boots were rather worn he couldn’t in reason be expected to keep his footing all the time. I shouldn't have been surprised if he had slipped half a dozen times and I should have been very much surprised if he hadn't slipped at all. | Of course we were roped, and equally of course 1 kept the rope taut so as to be ready to hold him when he aid elip. Ultimately he did lose his footing and I held him And Mr. Conway fllustrated by graphic gestures how he bad his hands ready upon the rope 80 as to use the muscles of his arms as springs to break the first impact of the shock. But, to bring out all the graphic | teatures of the situation I had to ask some further questions—questions that no doubt to Mr. Conway betrayed the inexperienced amateur. “You mean that you were standing in two tiny sfeps cut in ice and that the Gurkba's body swung round like a welght at the end of a pendulum and you in your insecure foothold had to hold him up.” “With Zurbriggen's help,” Mr. sald; but otherwise, he admitted description was toberably accurate. “And at the time you were ail tired and panting and suffering from weak hearts and splitting headaches. Mr. Conway allowed that that also was the case. “And, 1t you had not been able to hold him you would all have slipped down the fce slope and fallen over the precipice on to the glacier?”’ “No doubt something of that sort would have happened,” he replied. "It certainly wouldn't have done for us to fall. But then, you see, there never was any real danger of our falling, because we knew what was going to happen. I'm quite sure that 1 made too much of the incident in my book."” And that was all. By no persuasion could Mr. Conway be induced to attaeh any par- ticular Importance to an aceident which would have provided the ordinary voyager with material for nightmares lasting him for many months. FRANCIS GRIBBLE. in my Conway that the LITIES, June brides are so numerous that the stock of old shoeg is already exhausted. One-half of the semior class at Yale has solemnly decided never to marry. The amount of bullion represented at the Sloane-Burden wedding at Lenox, Mass., on the 6th inst. is computed at $851,000,000. Prince Alexander won Hohenlohe, -son of the German chancellor, married the widow of the prince of Selms<Braunfels in Cologne the other day “The trouble with too many women," says the scornful philosepher, “is that they re- gard the marriage ceremony mainly as a li- cense to eat onions .and wear il-fitting clothes.” A marriage license was issued in Chicago last Saturday to Jacob Goldman, aged 22, and Rachel Silberman, also aged 22, Chi- cago thus comes to the front with the first bimetallic marriage of the season, although the ratio differs materially from the accepted standard. W. P. Weathers and Miss Janie Doty of | Sweet Springs, Mo., were married at that place on the 10th. The father of the bride interposed objections and had the groom aroused on their nuptial night, arrested and locked up by a Sweet Springs constable on the charge of perjury and running off with and marrylng & female under age. i o0-0! Is that great big dish you, grandpa? Grandpi— Willie—Umph ! Willle—Oh- of ice cream foi No, Willle; that's for you. | What a little bit AL Mamma—If Mrs. Smith gives you a plece of cake be sure say “t " Fred- die—What good is that? She never gives you | any more. POWER OF WOMAN'S BEAUTY A Pronounced Possessor of it Talks on This Veiled Topic. CHARACTERISTICS OF DIFFERENT NATIONS The English, American and French Ideals— Beauty Common Among the M Rare in Aristocratic Circles—In= roads Made by High Liviog. Exactly what the term, ‘“professional beauty,” means is somewhat difficult to de- termine. I should say it means a woman whose beauty has been so remarked by her contemporaries that her name has become synonymous with extraordinary physical at- tractiveness. In England the opinion of the prince of Wales, publicly expressed, carries, of course, great weight so far as the English public’s opinfon is concerned. Directly it is said that the prince thinks Lady This or Mrs. That is particularly charming, para- graphs are printed about her in the soclety papers, her face fs reproduced In their columns, and before very long the photog- raphers have to work night and day printing her photographs to meet the public demand. Because a woman is a professional beauty for one generation it does mot necessarily follow that her type would be the admired of the next generation. Our ideals and standards change, and esen the most expert connoisseurs differ with each other. I am not at all sure that if the Barbareni Juno of the Vatican or the Venus de Medici were suddenly to appear in an opera box In a Worth gown she would be raved about as she now is by artists. We hear much of the power of govern- ments of potentates, presidents, monopolies, millionaires, Krupp guns, but if you will stop to consider T think you will remark that the greatest power the world has ever known is that of beauty. ITS INFLUENCE OVER ANCIENTS. Antony threw away an empire for Cleopatra, and many of the world's most chivalrous, patriotic and learned men, whether in the fields of battle or in times of peace, have been swayed, and frequently cor pletely changed, in their course by woman's fascination. In Russia, where the big-brained men have failed in anarchistic plots, slender women, by their wiles, have won a way. All of which proves that the power of beauty fs pre-eminent. There are many who worship only the purely classic features and consider none other worthy admiration, while there Is an- otber and possibly equally large class of men that prefer a retrousse nose, a mouth too large and a face tqo oval to be of Greek outline. 1 think there are as many beautiful women today as there were in the times of Homer, and if you will walk down Picadilly, the Champs Elysees or Fifth avenue you will see riding in victorias and landaus quite & number of women as beautiful, if net more so, than were reputed to be the women of Rome, Florence, Carthage and other of the ancient cities. TYPES THROUGH THE AGES It is really remarkable how the style of beauty changes; how one type succeeds an other; how our ideals are shattered from time to time. The Greeks delighted In beauty of form, and today the ench are following in their footsteps, for, with them, a symmetrical figure ranks highest cratic descent to be a professional beauty for some of the most beautiful women the world has seen have come from the ranks of | | A woman need not necessarily be of aristo- | I i | the people. Aristocracy does not by any | means guarantee beauty In fact, it seems in many instances, to deny it. This is not | to deny that culture refines and enlivens the | physical as well as the spiritual being, for it is & truth beyond denial that the richest most perfect beauty is found in women whose lives have been surrounded and eased | by comfort. There are many “lovely peasaut | maids” for poets to fancy into rhyme, but the artist will find large flaws in their beauty, for it cannot but happen that coarse food and hard work, unrelieved by gentle care and refined surroundings and occupa- tions, will prove hostile to velvet skins, soft features and dainty hands and feet. Beauty, however, is destroyed just as surely by a life of high living. The highest average of beauty is probably to be found at the golden mean, where the highest reaches of Intellect, imagination and true nobility are allied with women of the middle class, This is doubtles the reason for the supremacy of American beauty, yet, withal, it is a fact that, with the ex- ception of a few actresses, nearly all the pro- fessional beauties of England and the conti- | nent birth. The English woman of the upper rank is | really too athletic for exceeding beauty. She rides and walks too much, and her tennis exercise is too great to allow her to ob n a very rich appearance; for womanly beauty and strength can rarely be combined. Pure beauty is calm, tender and gentle. Psyche could not have been so fair had she equaled Atalanta in speed. Diana never dethroned the goddess Venus, the latter not having been a_huntress. The English woman is, as a rule, too large and lank of limb, her features too strong and heavy, and her color too high. She fs principally attractive as a picture of healtn. Among the middle and more prosperous classes a warmer grace of person is more frequent. Yet there are many high born dames whose brows are crowned with a trophy more dazzling than even their coronets and who have won' that climax, the title of ‘“pro- fessional beauty.” Although a much coveted position to attain it is not always a pleasant or desirable one to possess. A professional beauty is the cynosure of all eyes. Her every action is commented on and criticised, every little act of her life is immediately given wide publicity in the newspapers and she cannot “go out,” receive or do anything without being commented upon and approved or disapproved by the world at large. BECOMES A PUBLIC CHARACTER. She is locked upon to a certain degree to set the fashion, and, of course, she invariably lives far beyond her means. She is extremely unpopular as a rule among women, for her beauty excites the envy and sharpens the slanderous tongues of her less gifted sisters. She is usually a good woman, but, nevertheless, her repu thon may suffer. She must accept every in- vitation and ruin her health at a long series of balls, receptions and dinners. By the end of a social season she 1s weary, body and soul, of the honor that has been thrust upon her by nature and c.rcumstances. Perfect beauty Is, to my mind, largely a | matter of health. A woman who is not in good physical condition cannot look attractlve. One of the most beautiful features about a woman is her complexion, and a good com plexion is impossible unless the organs of the body are in perfect working order. 1 have found that the best way to keep In good health and to keep the complexion clear 1s to r.we early and take long walks before breakfast. It is also good to bathe at least twico a day and to take massage treatment twice a weel. This method keeps the pores have been and are women of noble | open, the blood circulates freely and t ruddy hue is then In the cheeks. Many women ruin_their health by tight lacing. It {s pure vauity—and a very foolish vanity A emall waist 2 beautiful, but a tight walst is hide The effort Is always apparent, nd the | woman {s thus humiliated and ndered ridiculous by her owu foollshness, Men do not care particularly for small waists. It Is not, therefore, a sign of beauty 1 But & woman with large hips and full bust | will always appear to have a slender | whether she really has or not at, is truly beautiful. As far as correct g0, there are many aowmen of today who are nearly akin in beauty to the k statues. One can scarcely g0 out with- eing some woman or girl so perfect in natural, proportions | dire | The surface fons and so glowing in health and beauty that she would not suffer by parison with the finest of them. There are | many writers who go so fer as to declur that civilization has increased the physical charms of the human race, as it has In creased its wealth, Ms knowlcdge and its | comforts, and that this developmcnt has been espectally rapid in the last two or three | generations. Women, more and more attention to the laws of health, and statistics aro ‘.’2’:5?} produced, on the authority of makers of articles of feminine attire, to prove that the average girl of today excells her predecessor of twenty years ago by an inch in helght and in bust ‘measure, while her hands and feet have grown smaller, EFFECTIVE “BEAUTY SLEEP." We have all heard of beauty slee perhaps, very few of us fully appreoists 1’.'::; important sleep is In attaining perfect beauty. A woman who 1s anxlous to maintaln her reputation as a professional beauty cultlvates the best conditions for this. She never sleeps in a room the temperature of which fs per mitted to fall below 60 degrees. Fancy going ectly from a living room, too often heated to 78 or 80 degrees, Into one with a t perature of 25 or 30, and then disrobing! of the body Is chilled and the internal organs congested, Iam very fond of outdoor exercise. I find it keeps me in better condition than all the medlcine fn the world. Tennis and bieycling are also beneficial. 1 used to be very fond of taking long rides on horseback, and, I fact, 1 am still, 4 England has _probably produced mors women who may be designated as professional beauties than has any other country, although of late America has been runding Albion close, Correctly speaking, the princess of Wales was for a long time considered one of the most beautiful women In England. She I8 a sweet and gracious princess, a good mother and a faithful wife, TWO FLOWERS OF LOVELINESS. Of the same serene type is the queenly Lady Dalhousfe, hailed by the English people one of the most renowned of their beautie She Is a brunette, with a romantically serious mien. Her tall stature finds compensation in a generously moulded figure and better arms than British women are usually blessed ith. Another relgning-beauty in English society is the countess of Annesley. Lady Clancarty s also a flower of English loveli- ness. 8o was the duchess of Leinster. is rather curious, but none the less true, that there have been no striking beautles among royalty, with perhaps the one ex- ception of the princess of Wales. This Is accounted for by some from the fact that royalty marries and remarries in a n circle, and so the blood—so-called *blue perhaps, after all, not as red and capable of producing beauty and loveliness as it might be under other conditions, Volumes might be written upon the nature and essence of beauty, but we should have confess reading them that they we veeless. uty is one of the absolute things—an end in itself, according to Arls- totle; and it is as Idle to attempt an analysis of it as to seek a reason for the law of gravity LILLIE LANGTRY. e INDIRECTION, Richard Realf. Falr are the flowers and the children, but subtle suggestion Is fairer Rare is the rosc-burst of d but the secret th )8 1t 18 ¥ Sweet the e : of song, the strain that precede ‘ And never was poem yet writ, but the meaning outmastered the meter, Never a dalsy that grows, but a mystery uldeth the growin Never a river that flows, but a majesty scepters the flowing; ver a Bhakespeare 'that soarcd, but & stronger than he did enfold him; Nor ever a prophet foretells, but a mightier seer hath foretold him, Back of tr is hint nyag that throbs, the paintes nd hidden; Into the statue that bréathes, the soul of seulptor {3 bidden Under the joy that is feit Me the infinite issues of feeling; Crowning the klory revealed is the glory that crowns th ling Great are the symbols of being, but that hich ts symboled 18 greatel st the create and beheld, but 'vaster the inward creator Back of this sound broods the stlence, back of the gift st the giving, Back of the hand that roceives thrill the pensitive nerves of receiv v 8p. ce 15 nothing to spirit, the deed 13 outs done by the doing; The heart of the Wooer 15 warm, buf warmer the heart of the wooing; And up from the pits where these shiver, and ) from the Lelktits where those shine. voices and shadows Swim starwird, Tw it s urged, have boen wnuu) wnd the essence of lite is divine, ~