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Show Heralattine By THOMAS A. CLARK, Dfan of Mn, University of Illinois. The envelope, all beautifully embossed em-bossed In flowers and butterflies and chubby round cuplds, was lying on my desk when, at the ringing of the last bell, I slipped Into my seat in the fourth-grade room. She had already come In, and her little curly brown head was Just showing above the top of her geography, but In spite of the fact that she seemed so Interested In study I felt that she was watching me. The package was not sealed, 30 under un-der cover of the desk I drew out the valentine. It was crinkly and lacy and very beautiful In my eyes, and I felt a thrill of happiness as I held It In my hand. Within there were verses, and they breathed of tenderness tender-ness and love. On one corner, lest I should be in doubt as to the identity of the sender, were printed the Initials Ini-tials "M. B." All morning I was happy as I stole shy glances Into the envelope and read the printed words ; In the evening I was happier still as I walked horn with her; and I am happy today at the memory of It all. We are strangely restrained and un-appreclatlve un-appreclatlve and unsentimental, most of us. If we love anyone it takes a tragedy or a cataclysm to get a statement state-ment out of us. We expect our friends or the members of our family to guess how we feel without our saying so. "Don't you like my dinner?" a housewife house-wife asked her husband. "Well, did I kick?" was his tender, appreciative response. One learns to know that things are satisfactory If no one makes objection. I saw a man, married mar-ried for ten years, taking a bunch of violets home to his wife on Valentine day, and it gave me a sensation, it was so unusual. Does anyone ever tell the minister when he preaches a good sermon? When someone helps you, or gives you courage, or stimulates you to effort, do you let him know, or do you take for granted that he will understand? Have you ever told mother what a void there would be In the world If she were gone? If anyone these days loves his teacher, as we were instructed in-structed to do, does he ever say so? I Imagine not; all of these things would seem too sentimental. It Is so much easier to send flowers to the funeral, or to subscribe to the memorial fund than to write the note of appreciation, or to utter the word of love, or to give expression to thanks when those who have served us and sacrificed for us and made our lives Joyful are themselves still alive. We don't often send the valentine. I found the little paper lace affair with Its verses in my desk the other day, treasured through all the vicissitudes vicissi-tudes that have come to me since I was ten : "If you love me As I love you No knife can cut Our love In two." It gave me pleasure all day to think of It (, 128. Western Newspaper Union.) |