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Page 43 – How Carl Goerch Views… & A Closing Word

doubtedly could spend an entire morning session pointing these out to his students.

The thing he probably would overlook, however, is the fact that the Post-Dispatch is one of the friendliest, most cheerful papers in the state; that Mr. London knows practically all of his subscribers, and they know him; that they regard his ‘paper as a weekly visit from him personally, and that they appreciate his interest in their affairs.

When you talk to a friend, you don’t pay attention to all the rules of grammar or rhetoric: you talk to him naturally. That’s what IKE does every week: he talks to his friends through the columns of his paper. The Post-Dispatch is Ike London, and Ike London is the Post-Dispatch. They have been synonymous for 38 years.

A Closing Word in Copied Verse

Death is only an old door Set in a garden wall;
On gentle hinges it gives When the thrushes call.
There’s nothing there to trouble any heart, Nothing to hurt at all;
Death is only a quiet door
In a garden wall!

There is no death! The stars go down To rise upon some other shore;
And in bright heaven’s crown
They shine forever more!
No, not cold beneath the grasses, Not close-walled within the tomb; Rather, in my Father’s mansion, LIVING in another Room.

“I cannot say, and I will not say
That Ike is dead! He is just away.
With a cheery smile and a wave of the hand, He has wandered into an Unknown Land,
And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must- be since HE lingers there. And you — O you, who the wildest yearn
For the old-time step and the glad return—
Think of him faring on, as dear
In the Love of There as the love of here; Think of him still as the same, I say:
He is not dead — he is just away!”


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