OCR Text |
Show Memories of Easter Days J" S. ASTER memories, past and 4 EST present I Tenderest vanities v of earthland, fragrant with - bHA' the odor of Annunciation 7tY lilies and bound about for-J for-J ever, with a scroll bearing words of promise! Long ago the gowns whose soft harmonies har-monies delighted have faded ; with the vanishing years have gone the dainty love tokens and the lover ; still the covenant cov-enant remains and the golden glory of the promise: "I am the resurrection and the life I" Far above the high-backed pew the minister's voice Intones the Easter text. Stretch as she may her fat little chubby neck, baby Anne cannot see the minister; so she gives herself over to thoughts of glories of her new Eas: ter toilette; a round, pink-faced maiden maid-en she is, sitting straight and proper as becomes her years; she counts exactly ex-actly five; in a new little gown, low of neck and short of sleeves, and a very round, short, little skirt; a monstrous scoop bonnet, tied with fat pink little bows under her fat, pink little chin. Admiring contemplation of her two white-stockinged legs, projecting from beneath stiffly starched pantalettes, is Intermingled with pleased anticipations of soon beholding the fut pink, also green, blue and red eggs, awaiting her at home after the Easter service. The minister's voice soothes like lapping lap-ping waves ; of a sudden the proprieties proprie-ties of 1S45 are forgotten; little Anne's golden head falls against her grandmother's grand-mother's shawled arms, and she sleeps I "I am the resurrection and the life I" Again the words of the Easter text fall upon "Miss" Anne's ears un-i un-i heeded. This Easter a lover In uniform stands by her side; about him all of her thoughts center. His gift is the nosegay In the silver flower holder that dangles from the silver sil-ver ring on her finger. t The new Easter toilette Is even a thought of him, for were not Its beauty and its modlshness planned to win favor fa-vor In his eyes? Silver poplin it Is, with a tight-fitting waist, pointed In front and lu back, but its full splendor reserved for skirt effects, of yards of close-gathered, glistening glis-tening breadths, falling over an enormous 'crinoline, but lifted on one side to reveal the coquetry of a scarlet satin petticoat ; a crocheted net of scarlet chenille confines her black curls, and scarlet are the loops of velvet vel-vet that fall in a curtain from the back of her tiny triangle of a bonnet. The minister and his world are so far away. Life and the Joy of Easter lilies, and love, are so near I "I am the resurrection and the life I" The little black-draped figure of the little old lady In the high-backed pew straightened perceptibly at the words of the minister as he read his Easter text. For an Instant her face against the crepe of the mourning veil she wore gleamed like a lamp of alabaster; then the flame went out in grief, for the losses of the years ; the husband, the little ones, the bitterest loss of all, the boy her first born who died at Sl-boney. Sl-boney. Tremblingly she strives to draw the mourning veil across her withered, wrinkled little old face to conceal the slow-gathering tears of age; straightway straight-way a bundle of chiffon and satin shook itself away from her lap and a tender little rosebud face framed In a crushed, beruffled little bonnet of dainty rose pink looked lovingly Into hers. "Granny crying?" she begged. "Little Anne naughty? Little Anne sorry; don't cry, granny." "Granny" Anne of seventy smiles through "I am the resurrection and the Mfe." It is "Mistress Anne" now, if you please, in the old family pew ; her husband on one side of her and her children on the other like heads upon a Illy stalk, who smiles In happy thought. How Jack had laughed at her coquettish co-quettish confession that she had chosen black for her new Easter gown since she was afraid she was too old now for gay, bright colors. (As if the new Easter dress had not been chosen as a special test of becomingness, with its long, slender polonaise and perky little lit-tle bows everywhere over the shirred, puffed, bouffante underskirt!) There was no confession of years In the tiny "capote" of glittering jet, with wide bows of filmy tulle. The test had succeeded royally. To John and the children she would always be ever lovely, ever young. "Granny's Heart's Ease !" The joy of all the Easters that are dead and gone were not sweeter than her smile, for Is not "baby Anne" the joy of the new, the "earthly always" of "Granny Anne," and full recompense? |