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Elizabeth Fairchild

Contributed by Marilyn Widler

The Ladies of the W. R. C. wended their way to he home of Mrs. Jesse Beemer on Nov. 8 to celebrate the birthday of her mother, Mrs. Fairchild. The day was ideal and she was completely surprised. In the absence of the President the meeting was called to order by Mrs. Baxter. A very fine impromptu program was given. Misses Mary and Bernice Beemer gave some fine selections on the piano and violin. Mrs. Fairchild gave a most beautiful reading entitled "My Old House," which is worthy of offering in print. She had it well committed and spoke so well that it brought tears to our eyes. Mrs. Louise Valentine also gave a nice reading. Mrs. Braffet recited a beautiful piece for us very fitting for the occasion.

The Angel Birthday Cake, made by Mrs. Beemer, was brought in with its snowy whiteness, and the 79 little red candles were lighted by the daughter Mary and as they were burning low we all sang "Nearer My God To Thee." The scene was beautiful and impressive. Mrs. Fairchild was then asked to blow them out but had to try twice before she succeeded. Then with a few rambling remarks on behalf of the corps, Mrs. Baxter presented Mrs. Fairchild with a gold bar pin to remind her that gold is not dross and that the longer it is worn the brighter it will grow. Mrs. Fairchild responded in her usual sweet way that we all love so well.

The W. R. C. appreciate the worth of this dear woman who has always been one of its most faithful members, always ready to fill in any place when she was asked; her many fine readings she has given us in times past will long be remembered by the corps ladies as well as many others that have listened to her. We wish her many, many more happy birthdays.

We were all invited to visit the electric light plant, which we enjoyed very much, and another pleasant afternoon was greatly enjoyed by all present. We are bound together with the band of Love and indeed are congenial sisters.

The regular monthly social will be held at the home of Mrs. Nat Hammond, Thursday for a one o'clock dinner. Come, every one.

Following is the poem read by Mrs. Fairchild.

MY OLD HOUSE
I hail once more my natal day,
Still in my tenement of clay,
With many favors blest,
Now He who placed the structure here
Can prop it up another year,
If he should think It best.

Long hath it stood through snow and rain
And braved life's fearful hurricanes,
While many a stronger fell--
The reason why we cannot see
But what to us seems mystery
The builder knows full well.

But now it's weather-worn and old,
The summer's heat and winter's cold
Pierce through the walls and roof
'Tis like a garment so worn out.
To mend there seems no where about
So gone is warp and woof.

The tottering pillars are all weak
The poor old rusty hinges creak,
The windows too are dim,
These slight discomforts we'll let pass
For looking darkly through a glass
We catch a hopeful gleam.

Nature and reason tell us all
This withered frame ere long must fall
When, where or how's unknown
We'll leave that to the Architect
And trust His wisdom to direct
The taking of it down.

And when you see it prostrate lie
Let not a tear be in your eye
The tenant is not here
But just beyond time's little space
She finds some quiet resting place
No more to date her year.

And though she walks with you no more
The world will move just as before
Tis meet it should be so.
Let each his house in order set
That he may leave without regret
Whenever called to go.

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