invisible door,
    As they passed where life's problems uncertain
     Will follow and burthen no more.
    We lingered and wept on the threshold—
     The threshold each mortal must cross,—
    Then we laid a new wreath down upon it,
     To mark a new sorrow and loss.

    Then back to our separate places
     A little more lonely we creep,
    A little more care in our faces,
     The wrinkles a little more deep.
    And we stagger, ah, God, how we stagger
      As we lift the old load to our back!
    A little more lonely to carry
      Because of the comrade we lack.

    But into our lives whether chidden
      Or welcome, God's comforters come;
    His sunshine waits not to be bidden,
      His stars,—they are always at home.
    His mornings are faithful,—His evenings
      Allay the day's fever and fret;
    And night—kind physician—entreats us
      To slumber and dream and forget.

    O Spirit of infinite kindness
      And gentleness passing all speech!
    Forgive when we miss in our blindness
      The comforting hand them dost reach.
    Thou sendest the Spring on Thine errand
      To soften the grief of the world;
    For us is the calm of the mountain,
      For us is the rose-leaf uncurled.

    Thou art tenderer, too, than a mother,
      In the wonderful Book it is said;
    O Pillow of Comfort! What other
      So softly could cradle my head?
    And though Thou hast darkened the portal
      That leads where our vanished ones be;
    We lean on our faith in Thy goodness,
      And leave them to silence and Thee.

Jenny June

By Fanny Hallock Carpenter

    A beautiful soul has journeyed
     Out from the Now into Then.
    Her voice echoes back to us, waiting,
     The sound of the great Amen.

    Her life was a song so winsome
     It sung itself night and day
    Into the hearts of the people
     Who met her along the way.

    Her life was a flower so fragrant
     That every one passing her, knew
    By the perfume from it exhaling,
     The love out of which it grew.

    Her life was a book so vivid
     That all, though running, could read
    The story of earnest endeavor
     Written for woman's need.

    Her life was a light whose radiance
     Brightened all woman-kind,
    As sunshine wakens the flowers,
     Or genius illumines the mind.

    Her life was a poem so tender
      It thrilled with its cadence sweet
    Many a life prosaic,
      Which caught up the rhythmic beat.

    Her life was a bell whose ringing
      Gave no uncertain sound,
    Its chiming rang out to the nations
      And girdled the world around.

    Her life was a deed so holy,
      So noble, so brave, so true,
    That it set all womanhood noting
      The good one woman could do.

    Her life was a brook, that swelling
      Grew to a river wide,
    That freshened the souls of the many
      Touched by its flowing tide.

    The song has trilled into silence,
      The flower is faded and gone,
    The book's strong story is ended,
      The light is lost in the dawn.

    The poem's sweet rhythm is ended,
      The chiming has ceased to be,
    The deed is fully accomplished,
      The river has joined the sea.

    She dropped the pebble whose ripples
      To the shores of all time shall extend,
    She has spoken the word into ether
      Whose sound-waves never shall end.

    She has started a light on its journey
      Out into limitless space,
    She has written a thought for women
      Eternity cannot erase.

    A wonderful soul has journeyed
      Out from the Now into Then,
    Her voice echoes back to us, waiting,
      The sound of the great Amen.

Resolutions and Tributes From Clubs

[Illustration: Fac-simile of resolutions adopted by the Woman's Press
Club of New York, January 11, 1902.]

Resolutions of the New York State Federation of Women's Clubs

In Memoriam

Mrs. Jane Cunningham Croly

We have tenderly laid away to rest our beloved honorary president, Jane Cunningham Croly, to sleep the blessed sleep that knows no waking in this toilsome, troublous world.

Her gentle soul is at peace, her personal work is accomplished, her useful life is ended. She has been taken from further pain and further labor, to that existence where all is perfect peace, perfect rest, perfect rhythm.

We wish to place upon our records, therefore, our appreciation of the fact, that this New York State Federation of Women's Clubs has suffered such a loss as can come but once to any, a loss like that of a loving mother to an affectionate child.

We shall miss her at our meetings, at our larger gatherings, and at our conventions.

We shall hold her, and the desires of her heart in relation to us, in loving and constant memory.

And we purpose to take up her work, where she laid it down, and carry it on with the same unselfish aims, high ideals, and unremitting patience with which she labored, until we shall reach the goal upon which her farseeing eyes were fastened, and her great heart was set.

                    FANNY HALLOCK CARPENTER.
                                   February 13, 1902.

[Illustration: Resolutions adopted by The Society of American Women in
London, March 24th, 1902.]

The Croly Memorial Fund of the Pioneer Club of London

First Annual Report

In July, 1900, a fund was raised by the exertions of Mrs. E.S.
Willard, to present a life membership of the Pioneer Club to Mrs. Jane
Cunningham Croly, known to all who are interested in woman's work as
"Jenny June."

Mrs. Croly had a special claim to this distinction, for she was the originator of women's clubs. The first woman's club was founded by her in New York, March, 1868, under the name of "Sorosis." The example was quickly followed elsewhere, and when, in 1889, Sorosis, to celebrate its majority, called a convention of women's clubs, ninety-seven were known to exist in the United States. This convention led to a Federation with biennial meetings. In 1896, the Federation included one thousand four hundred and twenty-five dubs. The Pioneer is