There is but one spot on the ocean that leads me to a sort of a fanciful
realization of a future life. It is that red one made by the setting
sun, especially if we be off shore, and the birds are flying landward.
The roseate bridge thrown across the water, swinging with the waves,
the intense and silver bright-ness of the centre of the arc framed in
the evening clouds that roll around it, and the gleaming wings of the
birds, as they flash across the disc and disappear in the shining
centre on their way homeward, somehow bring to my mind the gates ajar
and the souls flying from earth to their final rest. There may be
beautiful pictures to come after this life; if there are, sunset at
sea is as near as our mortal minds can yet come to them.
OBSERVATIONS OF A RETIRED VETERAN VI
Well, we have gotten you into a new year! Life and Fate and Time, all
have managed to get you here. With many of you they had a hard pull
to get you here. Some of you have been near to death; some of you so
miserable you hardly wanted to try another year here, and the majority
of you have shown the least interest about getting here. I don't
reproach you; you are only following the perverse example of Human
Nature.
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