Rural Treasures

Essays Rural Treasures By Dorothy C. Retsloff The happiest people are those who live close to nature; and where can one live closer to nature than on a farm? In order to develop, humans must have freedom and live simply, the freedom of life in rural communities cannot be over- estimated. The city dweller employs all his time in earning money to buy the same luxuries that his wealthy neighbor buys. Most of his evenings are spent in crowded theatres or in over-heated rooms at various social functions, for he must entertain and be entertained. He has no time to enjoy the chirp of the cricket; he does not know the delights derived from listening to the music of the wind in the tree tops. The peace and quiet of the country can only be appreciated by spending a few nights in the city where the street cars wail; where trucks rattle and bang along the pavements; where midnight revellers shout. Rural folks work hard during the day- light hours, but night brings its reward in quiet, unbroken, restful slumber. The days may seem long but a peacefulness permeates them that is utterly lacking in the bustle of the city. The average span of life for the city dweller is much shorter San Diego, California than that for the farm individual. Time in the crowded mart speeds like the revolu- tions of an automobile engine. It becomes a tragedy when one stands apart and watches the speed with which most city dwellers endeavor to make life one immense race course. They put wheels under their feet to make daylight hours fly; they jazz away the nights that God made dark to heal the wounds that day makes on heart and soul. The city, with its sky-scrapers, its tree- bordered boulevards, its electric lights, its attractive shop windows, is a thing to be admired, but how much more wonderful is the big golden moon rising over fields of corn and wheat? Nothing can be more beautiful than a stretch of meadow where sleek contented cows graze; no scene can surpass rolling hills draped with the soft, purple veils of evening and never can city air equal the sweetness that comes with the odor of new mown hay. Those who own a few acres of Mother Earth's breast, whether surrounded by reverend hills, set in a hidden valley, or perched on a sun-browned mesa, should realize that they are among the fortunates; that they know to the fullest extent the meaning of the word "Freedom." Scout Work and the Boy By H. Eugene Hughes You are now at the age when boys should begin to put into use the urges, desires, and energy that the Lord has blessed you with. Every boy should be grateful for these blessings, and desire to develop the urges and desires, and put the energy into service in helping someone else. The Lord could see the necessity of meeting this condition in boys, so he in- spired good men to bring forth the won- derful principles of scouting. He knew if boys were taught in ways that appealed to them, they would respond in the development of character. Scouting teaches that a boy should not use tea, coffee, tobacco or strong drink, as these are the tools of satan in deceiving boys into thinking that they arc stimulated

306 IMPROVEMENT ERA to greater action, when, in fact, they are destroying important cells of the body which in time will so weaken their re- sistance that greater sins creep in. Thus the reasons for scout principles, that he may become physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight. His thoughts, his mind and vision, are clean, clear and far-reaching; his body is clean and pure, allowing the spirit within a chance to develop and give expression. In scouting, the boy is brought closer to nature, and the workings of the same, learning that the hand of God is there, causing him to have greater love, rever- ence and respect for the Lord and his righteous purposes. This should be an in- centive for any boy to join scouting. Through scout training he obtains a love of country, with a desire to prepare himself so that some day he will be quali- fied to help direct it in a way, that peace and happiness may be obtained for man- kind. He becomes brave, honest, thrifty, cheer- ful, friendly and helpful. He must be prepared at all times to render service. Scouting is a work of service which pays Spanish Fork, Utah its dividends in enlightenment and in- telligence; its good works are recorded upon books entitled, More Boys Becoming Better Men; its balance sheets show a credit of benefits. When a scout is working out his tests and gaining information that entitles him to merit badges, he comes in contact with many trades and professions, giving him a better chance to choose the vocation he is best adapted for, to receive the most bene- fit to himself and helpfulness to others. A boy reminds me of a first class radio set. He is a bunch of live wires, a ma- chine charged with power to respond to the conditions of life. If understood and "tuned in" right, he will overcome the static conditions of life, so as to meet the tempests and storms that try to destroy his efficiency. Scouting is a means to this end. It helps boys to "tune in" right and to receive the good things broadcasted over radio station B. S. A. Every scout meet- ing is a pleasure, and an aid to help boys do good. Scouting is a "Good Turn" for the bet- terment of the boy and the happiness of others. Let's join now and qualify for this great work. Apostrophe to the Ocean By Prof. J. E. Hickman O sad and ceaseless Ocean, I stand on your shore and look out on your restless breast with unspeakable awe. You seem to be ever coming from without the in- finite. As I watch I feel you are bring- ing to shore some truth — some mystery from the weird unknown. But when you reach my feet there is no answer from your liquid lips. You give no hint of the hidden past. You tell me not of the dead you claimed eternities ago. Where are they whom you engulfed in recent decade? You lap the shore and purr at my feet when you are in pleasant mood, but to my yearning inquiry you are unmindful. Will you forever pay no heed to my heart- aching longings, turning me away empty? You hold mysteries which time nor your cavernous voices have ever revealed. I know not your age, nor have you answered the quest of the scientist. I read your tracks on my shore, yet they do not reveal to me how long you have walked on the sands of the past. At times you moan and roar. Are you sad? Again at times you purr at my feet as if you would be companion to me. Are your briny deeps the hearts of sorrowful women? Are you regretful over the deeds of fury you have done? Do you remem- ber those you denied fresh water and let them die of thirst? Do you moan for these? Like a charming maiden with your

ESSAYS 307 matchless wiles you have lured to your bosom gallant sons from many lands; they have made their beds upon your restless waves. They sang of your glory and forgot the ties of home. You have danced with entrancing grace upon every strand, till their sons have left father, mother, sister, brother, all for thee. O Ocean Old, though as young as you were when you played upon earth's rest- less beach in creation's morn. What phil- osopher have you not taught! What scien- tist have you not thrilled! You have wooed with your charm artists and poets and thrilled them with exalted imagery. From your limped lips you sang their souls in tune with the infinite; for you suggest eternity and symbolize immortality. You have called earth's children from afar to come and dwell with you that you may not be sad and restless. But when they nestled upon your shores you came upon them with mad fury, as if angry because of their trust; you have, with titanic rage, destroyed their homes and drowned those who came to you. Do you possess the spirit of the Demon and yet the Divine? You sent the cold winds of November and chilled and killed sweet Anabel Lee. Have you no pity upon in- fant or maiden? You speak to all in the language of creation's morn, yet every na- tion hears you in its own tongue. With Pentecostal enlightenment you speak all languages. Why then do you destroy those you woo? You are kind to those engendered in your own watery pallet — those born in your own bosom. Are you jealous of those of foreign birth? Do you entice to kill? And yet, millions love you. You lave the ,sea-breathing children and give them health and lap their feet with cooling waters. When the maiden sits upon your shore, Logan, Utah soul speaks to soul. And after this speech- less communion she returns to her home consoled and satisfied, as if she had heard from the lips of him whom she loves and yet doubts. How charming you are, and yet how deceitful! How loving, and yet at times furious! How charming and yet how repellant. Such a universal teacher, and yet forever withholding hidden mysteries. Your depths are dumb. In your love and fury, are you trying to teach us that death is grander than life, and that immortality is more sublime than nature's charms? As I stand upon your shore you seem to be incessantly hurrying, running and tumbling upon the sands of the beach. Are you longing to be free? You come with rapid pace as if glad to reach the shore. You seem very happy just to spread out your liquid hands and arms on the smooth, sandy beach. And then you quietly return, thrilled and charmed a9 if you had felt the caress of your earth-lover. Then, decoyingly, your waters slink back into the deep to await their turn in the ceaseless charm of the shore's warm caresses. You are forever mourning, forever pleading, forever revealing, forever hiding wordless mysteries. You are forever wail- ing as if speaking for the dead; forever with contradicting moods; forever loved, forever feared, forever treacherous. You are the enigma of the ages. Is that why God said to you, "Thus far and no farther?" Yet you have faithfully listened to his ambassadors. Their prayers have pro- duced the hush of storm upon your heav- ing breast, and you have borne them to foreign lands and returned them again to their homes and loved ones. Now, adieu; for my steps lead me far from you. When the command comes for you to give up your dead I shall stand again upon your shore. Understanding You never told your love to me. Where was the need? When hearts speak understandingly, What use to plead? Han Jose. California Though lips be mute, and manner shy. When touch of hand Makes hearts to throb tumultuously. We understand. Alice Maude Schutte