| OCR Text |
Show I j Dorothy Dix Talks j THE PLEASURES OF MEMORY By DOROTHY DIX, the World's Highest Paid Woman Writer. j I A man who, in his time, was a bril-I bril-I liant and conspicuous fisrure in the world Is now old. broken in health and I fortune and compelled b circum-f circum-f stances to live ,in a dreary little vil- I I lage. ! "I have nothing left now but my ! memories, ' he wrote I he other day to a friend, ' but do not pity me for that because I ;t in happy in thinking ol the days that are nn more I do not dwell I I in this dully little hamlet I live in I I Washington, New York. London, Par-I Par-I f is, and all the cities that I knew so I I well in my youth. My companions are Knot the provincial and stupid yokels that surround me. 1 am hobnobbing , with statesmen, financiers and the men that make things happen. I am l listening to the chatter of fine ladies I I in silken boudoirs. I arn laughing over 11 the stories of wits whose tongues have been dust and ashes almost half a El century. 'When I look out of m window I I do not see a straggling, muddy, ill-Iff ill-Iff kept village street. I see Fifth ave- nue glittering in polished unshine in the afternoon. I see the lions of Tra- I falgar Square, or the cherry blossoms in the parks of Tokio in April. "Believe me the poet was wrong vben he said that "Sorrow's crown of bottow is remembering happier It things." To my mind the ultimate sor- row is for one to have nothing happy H to remember in one's old age." J Can you think of a finer example of ( B ihe brave attitude towards life than I this man holds? Njo weak whining II over his present estate, but a calm I and uncomplaining acceptance of it K with a philosophy that robs it of its ill hardness! No bitter railings at the un-F un-F justness of fate in depriving him of I the glories that once were his, but a I deep and abiding thankfulness for all t the pleasures and privileges that he has had! And what a lesson he teaches us l about the importance of saving up a I treasure of memory for our old age I upon which we can call when our in-Hterests in-Hterests in the active every day work I about us have become thin and atlen-I atlen-I uated. Every wise man from Solomon I down, has tried to impress upon us the I necessity of saing up enough mon- ey, while we .ire young and strong, to support us during our old age, so that we may be saved from the misery of dependence and the shame of being a burden upon others But nobody ever tells us that it is just ns important to provide spiritual BUBtenance for our old age as it is to provide physical, and that unless we have stored up within ourselves some mental riches, we are bound to be dependent de-pendent on others for our entertain ment and our happiness when we come to the time of life when we are just an onlook. r at th game And the old who are spiritual para sites are more to be pitied, poorer, ' I more forlorn and more of a drag on j other people than are the old who merely have no money and make no call upon us save upon our pocket-books. pocket-books. It is well for us to begin early to provide against this rainy day of old age; and there Is no better way than by laying up a store of memories that will be a bottomless treasure chest into which we can dip at will, and gloat over as a miser does over his hoarded gold. The great argument against Iixing in a rut, and doing the same things o er day after day, is not so much that it is dull and monotonous and narrowing to the individual, as that its memories are so few and so drab and tiresome. Think what it must be to the old man and woman of 80 to have nothing to recall re-call but an endless procession of days In which they got up at the same time, did the same little round of tasks, met the same people and vent to bed at the same hour, after having wound the same clock and put a procession of j cats with the same names out of doors. Similarly the great argument in ta-vor ta-vor of traveling is not alone the present pres-ent pleasure it affords one, but the in-j in-j exhaustible resource of memories one I lays up of lovely places, nevs scenes 'and strange peoples. I No old person can be dull or lonesome lone-some whose mind is a screen against which a never ending pageant of interesting inter-esting things that he or she has seen tis thrown. Comedy, tragedy, pathos and bathos, swaggering bullies and I gentle knights, heroes and renegades, I fine ladies and harlots, they have 1 known them all, and as they call them up one by one. in memory, it makes a human drama as thrilling and never ending as a Chinese play which goes on from generation to generation. It is not of course the privilege of. all to travel, but one does not need 1 to go beond one's own bailiwick to find the stuff of which Interesting memories are made, it takes money to buy railroad and steamship tickets but it takes only the seeing eye and the sympathetic heart to find romance and mystery, every variety of personality, person-ality, love and tenderness, hate and greed in those ;ibout us. Wise those who begin to observe Intelligently In-telligently early in life, and thus lay up interesting memories for their old I age and happy those who throw awaj all bitter and hurtful impressions as if they were poisonous weeds and w ho j keep only good and kindly recollec-1 tions to bloom like perennial flown in the gardens of memory. They shall know the true treasures! of mcmorv in their old age |
