Debts of Honor, 33 



evening session. 



Wednesday, June 16. 

 The first on the programme for the evening was to have 

 been a paper by Miss Ella Giles, of Madison, but as Miss Giles 

 was not present, Mrs. B. K. Towne, of Chicago, then read a 

 paper on 



"DEBTS OF HONOR." 



We are born into this world debtors. Man did not bargain 

 with the Author of his being, agreeing to a contract that 

 read: '' For so much life I promise to pay," etc. Instead, 

 life was simply placed at his account on what may be styled 

 longtime. And the way that it was thus placed, with no 

 questions asked as to standing, no pledges required, no 

 notes given, speaks of an established credit, flattering to 

 self love, and he who appreciates this, sees that at the very 

 outset he was placed upon his honor. 



Life is wonderful, whether it be found in the heart of a 

 flower, or the heart of humanity, and its ivonderfulness con- 

 sists even in its possibilities. 



Down in the meadow we find a wild rose blushing and 

 paling in the sun, balancing its cup to hold the dew to- 

 day, to-morrow a heap of frailty upon the sod. Behind 

 the white paling of a garden fence we find a second rose 

 unlike the first as regal beauty from frail loveliness, and 

 looking down into its velvet depths we find it hard to 

 realize that this second rose is but the expansion of possibil- 

 ities the first held in trust. 



Half way up the mountain side we find a gnarled grape 

 vine sturdily reaching to hang its fruit on the top of a dead 

 plum tree; fruit that for all the rare sunshine bathing the 

 hillside is sour and unlovable. 



On a trellace on a southern terrace we find a second vine, 

 borne down by its weight of luscious vintage; again and 

 again we pluck and partake, yet this second vine is but the 

 out-reaching tendrils of the first. 



Down in an alley we find a lad, slow of step, sluggish of 



