Woe is me, Singing Mouse, and these are bitter tears for that which you have shown I see it all again, the oaks, the glade, the tiny house of white, the small pleasant fire. Here again is the little table, and here is the evening meal. The table is still spread for two. A double portion is served as was wont before. Yet why? For all is not the same. At this table there is but one form now. The younger man is there, although now he has grown gray and stooped. Year unto year, day unto day, the beads have slipped along the string. Once young, now old, he keeps the camp alone!
But is he then alone? Hush! The squirrels have grown still, and even the oak is silent. What is that opposite, across the table, at the seat long years held only by the elder of these two? Tell me, Singing Mouse, is it not true that I see there, sitting as of old at the table, the same sturdy form, the same simple, innocent and believing face? It is the gray ghost of one grown gray in goodness. It is the shadow of a shadow, the apparition of a soul!
The one at the table pauses, as was the wont before the beginning of a meal. He looks across the table to the shadow, as if the shadow were his friend. The shadow bows its head. The living man bows also his head at the board. The shadow moves its lips. Doubt not those words are heard this day.
See, the sun rises through the trees. The glorious day sets on once more. Doubt not, fear not, sorrow not, ye two. Bow the head still, ye two, and let not my picture perish. Whisper again the benediction of the years, and let me hear once more the murmur of the oak’s Amen!
The Birth of | |||
“Do you know the story of the Wedding of theTimes?” said the Singing Mouse. “You know, all life is awedding. The flowers love, and the grasses, and the trees; and thecircle of the wedding ring is the circle of life and the sign ofeternity. Death and life, not life and then death, is the order and thelaw. “The hours are born of parents, as are the flowers. The hoursof the day are born of the wedding of Night and Morning. It is the wayof Life. Come with me.” So with the Singing Mouse I went into a place where I was once longbefore. I could see it very well. It was in the deepwoods, far away. Near by there were tall, sweet grasses. I couldhear the faint tinkle of a falling stream. Other than that, it wassilent in the deep woods. Overhead the sky was clear and filled withstars. The stars trembled and twinkled and shone radiantly fair. So nowall at once I knew they were the jewels on the veil of Night. And thefar shadows were the drapery of the Night, and the greater light of theheavens was the star upon her coronal.
When I first looked forth, the Night was a babe, but as I gazed itgrew. The Night is full of change and charm. Those who live within thewalls do not see these things. When I saw them, I could not sleep,for the Night in all her changes seemed to speak. | |||
The Night grew older, drawing about her her more ornate garb of witchery. Across her bosom fell a wondrous tissue, trembling with exuberance of unprismed light. These were the gems in thousands of the skies, all fair against the blackness of the robes of Night, and I knew that the blackness of the one was as lovely as the radiance of the other. Nor could one separate one from the other, for there arose a thin mist of light, so that one saw form or features only dimly, as through a cloth of silver lace, such as the spiders weave upon a morning.
The Night grew on, changing at every moment, for change is the law. There were small frowns of clouds which were replaced by smiles of light. Did never you hear the laughter of the Night? It is a strange thing. Not all men have heard it. The Singing Mouse told me of this.