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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/27343-h.zip b/27343-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..29d5c6b --- /dev/null +++ b/27343-h.zip diff --git a/27343-h/27343-h.htm b/27343-h/27343-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ba8259e --- /dev/null +++ b/27343-h/27343-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5050 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Fireside Stories for Girls in Their Teens, by Margaret White Eggleston</title> +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + @media screen { + hr.ppg-pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.ppg-pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + div.ce p {text-align: center; margin: auto 0;} + .caption {font-size:.8em;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + hr.tb {width: 35%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + .blockquot {margin:0.5em 5% 0.5em 5%;} + div.ra p {text-align: right; margin: auto 0;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + hr.minor {border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; margin: 0.5em auto 0.5em auto; width: 20%;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size: 1.4em;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + .center { text-align: center; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="center">The Project Gutenberg eBook, Fireside Stories for Girls in Their Teens, by +Margaret White Eggleston</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Fireside Stories for Girls in Their Teens</p> +<p>Author: Margaret White Eggleston</p> +<p>Release Date: November 27, 2008 [eBook #27343]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIRESIDE STORIES FOR GIRLS IN THEIR TEENS***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="center">E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div class='ce'> +<p>FIRESIDE STORIES FOR</p> +<p>GIRLS IN THEIR TEENS</p> +</div> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p>MARGARET W. EGGLESTON</p> +</div> + +<hr class='ppg-pb' /> +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:2em;'>FIRESIDE STORIES FOR</p> +<p style=' font-size:2em; margin-bottom:1.5em;'>GIRLS IN THEIR TEENS</p> +<p>BY</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:.6em;'>MARGARET W. EGGLESTON</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>INSTRUCTOR IN STORY TELLING, SCHOOL OF RELIGIOUS</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>EDUCATION AND SOCIAL SERVICE, BOSTON UNIVERSITY</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'><i>Author of</i> “<i>The Use of the Story in</i></p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:9em;'><i>Religious Education</i>,” <i>Etc.</i></p> +</div> + +<p style='font-size:1.3em; text-align:center; margin-bottom:0em;'>NEW<img alt='emblem' src="images/illus-emb.png" />YORK</p> +<p style='font-size:1.3em; text-align:center; margin-top:0em;'>GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</p> + +<hr class='ppg-pb' /> +<div class='ce' style=' font-size:0.8em;'> +<p>COPYRIGHT, 1921,</p> +<p>BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> +</div> + +<hr class='ppg-pb' /> +<div class='ce'> +<p>TO THE GIRLS OF</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>KEEWAYDIN CAMP FIRE</p> +<p>OF CLEVELAND</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-top:0.2em; margin-bottom:0.2em;'>AND</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>ICACAYA CAMP FIRE</p> +<p>OF BOSTON</p> +</div> + +<hr class='ppg-pb' /> +<div class='ce' style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'> +<p>FOREWORD</p> +</div> + +<p>“Given a Camp-fire, a group of friendly girls and a +good story-teller who knows and loves the girls, and +the ideals of a whole community may be lifted in a +night.”</p> +<p>The teen age girl is a great problem and at the +same time a great opportunity. Her ideals seem +low, yet there is no time in her life when she will +more gladly follow a great ideal. She seems fickle, +yet she is putting her friends to a test that is most +worth while. She is misunderstood and she can not +understand herself. She is searching for something, +yet she does not know what it is.</p> +<p>Her problems are many, and most of them she +must solve alone. If she follows the crowd and +goes in the way of least resistance, there is a big +chance that she will fall by the way. If she does +not follow the crowd, it is because somewhere, some +time, she has found a compelling ideal and is following +it. Sometimes that ideal comes to her in the +form of a friend. Sometimes she is fortunate enough +to have found that ideal in her mother. But often +and often it comes to her through a little story that +lives with her, and works for her, and helps her to +hold to the best, in spite of the manifold temptations +to do otherwise.</p> +<p>Recently I met a young woman whom I had seen +only once and that was twelve years ago. She came +to me after a service and said, “Will you tell Van +Dyke’s ‘Lump of Clay’ to-night? Twelve years +ago I heard you tell it. I was so discouraged at +the time, for everything seemed going wrong and +life seemed so useless. But I dropped into a church +and heard you tell the story. You have no idea +what it has done for me. I am teaching in the college +near by and I should like to have my girls hear +the story. Perhaps they need it as I did.”</p> +<p>Many of the workers with girls have seen this +need and have wanted to meet it and yet have been +unable to find the story that was needed by the girl. +It is because of this very need in my own work that +I am sending out these stories, most of which I have +told over and over to my girls. Many of them have +been written because of special problems that needed +to be met—problems peculiar to adolescence—problems +found in every class and club of girls the country +over.</p> +<p>The stories are not to amuse, for we have no time +to amuse girls in the story hour. We have little +enough time, at the best, for implanting ideals and +every story hour should leave a vital message. That +is the thing the girls want and why should we give +them less.</p> +<p>The stories are not to be read. They need the +personal touch, the sympathetic voice, the freedom +of eye that tells the story-teller which girls are finding +the message of the story. Some of them will +hurt—but experience has shown me that these are +the very ones that one has to tell over and over. +Can you imagine the Master reading to the groups +gathered about him the stories that you and I love +to read in his word? When you go into the heart +life of a girl, let all your personality help you to +carry the message. It was the Master’s way of +story-telling.</p> +<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto; '><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>“’Twas only a little story,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Yet it came like a ray of light;</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>And it gave to the girl who heard it</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>Real courage to do the right.”</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<hr class='ppg-pb' /> +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>CONTENTS</p> +</div> + +<table border='0' width='500' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td align='left'><span style='font-size:small;'> </span></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>I Would Be True</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_WOULD_BE_TRUE'>15</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Appeal to the Great Spirit</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_APPEAL_TO_THE_GREAT_SPIRIT'>22</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Parable of Girlhood</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#A_PARABLE_OF_GIRLHOOD'>29</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The House of Truth</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_HOUSE_OF_TRUTH'>32</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Marked for a Mast</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#MARKED_FOR_A_MAST'>39</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Her Need</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#HER_NEED'>44</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Message of the Mountain</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_MESSAGE_OF_THE_MOUNTAIN'>47</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Winning of an Honor</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_WINNING_OF_AN_HONOR'>51</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Daddy Gray’s Test</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#DADDY_GRAY_S_TEST'>56</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Wanted—A Real Mother</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#WANTED_A_REAL_MOTHER'>61</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Fir Tree and the Willow Wand</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_FIR_TREE_AND_THE_WILLOW_WAND'>69</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Two Searchers</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_TWO_SEARCHERS'>73</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Why Elizabeth Was Chosen</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#WHY_ELIZABETH_WAS_CHOSEN'>77</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Janie’s School Days</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#JANIE_S_SCHOOL_DAYS'>81</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Self-Made Men</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#SELFMADE_MEN'>89</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>On The Road to Womanhood</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#ON_THE_ROAD_TO_WOMANHOOD'>92</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Her Prayer</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#HER_PRAYER'>97</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Best Day</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_BEST_DAY'>105</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>In the Way</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IN_THE_WAY'>108</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>An Old, Old Story</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#AN_OLD_OLD_STORY'>114</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>His Debt</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#HIS_DEBT'>119</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>How Kagigegabo Became a Brave</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#HOW_KAGIGEGABO_BECAME_A_BRAVE'>123</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The White Flower of Happiness</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_WHITE_FLOWER_OF_HAPPINESS'>129</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Speaking Picture</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_SPEAKING_PICTURE'>134</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Quest</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_QUEST'>138</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Treasure</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_TREASURE'>141</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='ppg-pb' /> +<div class='ce' style=' font-size:1.6em;'> +<p>FIRESIDE STORIES FOR</p> +<p>GIRLS IN THEIR TEENS</p> +</div> + +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='I_WOULD_BE_TRUE' id='I_WOULD_BE_TRUE'></a> +<h2>I WOULD BE TRUE</h2> +</div> + +<p>’Twas a beautiful day in the late fall and the roadside +was lined with the late asters and goldenrod. +The sun was shining so brightly and the sky was as +blue as a New Hampshire sky could be, yet the girl, +walking along the winding, climbing road, saw none +of them. The little brook by the roadside whispered +and chattered as it ran along, yet she did not hear; a +few late birds still twittered to her from the trees, but +she did not notice; a chipmunk called to her from a dead +tree by the roadside, but she paid not the least attention. +She was alone with her thoughts and they were +far from pleasant.</p> +<p>How different it all seemed from what it had seemed +six months before! Then she had stood in the office +of a great doctor in Philadelphia and heard him say to +her father, “Unless you leave the city at once and go +where there is pure air and simple food and real quiet, +there is no help for you.”</p> +<p>The father had looked at the doctor for a moment in +silence and then answered, “Well, if that is the case, +I am sorry, for I cannot leave the city. My business +needs me; Katherine is in college and she must be here. +I shall stay.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></p> +<p>But with flashing eyes the girl had stepped to the +doctor and said, “Father is mistaken, doctor. His business +can do without him and there is no need at all why +he should stay here for me. There is a dear little old +place in the hills of New Hampshire that belongs to us, +where grandfather used to live. We can go there and +have all the things that you have said he must have. +You may leave the matter with me. We shall be out +of the city within two weeks.”</p> +<p>Then turning to her father she had put her arms +about his neck and said, “Of course we can go, daddy, +for what is college and money and friends compared +with your health? Gladly will I give them up for you. +We shall have a wonderful time there in the hills—just +you and mother and I.”</p> +<p>So they had come. Then it was early in the spring +and the country was beginning to show green. Into the +little old farmhouse under the hill they moved. Of +course there were no electric lights, and no telephones, +and no faucets out of which the water could be drawn. +But there were the quaint old candle holders on the big +mantels; there was the fireplace so large that a log +could be drawn into it; there was a well in the yard +with water as cold as ice. And outside the home—oh, +there were the most wonderful things to see. The trailing +arbutus trailed everywhere; the lady slippers grew +even in the front dooryard. The old trees in the yard +were soon filled with nesting birds; the apple and pear +trees in bloom were a sight never to be forgotten.</p> +<p>So the days fled by and the little family under the +hill were so happy to see the color coming back to the +face of the sick one and the smile once more on his face. +Katherine loved it all—the home—the flowers—the +mountains and even the quiet of the little hamlet.</p> +<p>Then the summer had come and with it the stream +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +of visitors who come every year to the New Hampshire +mountains. Within a short distance of the home were +large hotels, and the guests soon learned of the cool +water in the well in front of the house; of the father +who was such a pleasant companion; of the pretty girl +who could sing, and climb, and play so well. So there +had been picnics, and parties, and auto rides, and the +summer had fled.</p> +<p>And when the people had gone, there were the wonderful +colors in the trees, the gorgeous sunsets in the +sky, the fun of the harvest time and still the life in the +country was full of wonder and satisfaction.</p> +<p>But now—oh, now the days had begun to grow cold, +the trees were bare, the birds had flown to the south, +and her friends had all gone away. Here and there +a family was left in the farmhouses that dotted the +little, winding road but none of them were people for +whom she cared. And so as the days had come and +gone, there had crept into the heart of the girl a loneliness +that would not be forced down, a longing that she +could not stifle, a dissatisfaction that grew with the +days.</p> +<p>How could she pass the long winter nights that were +ahead? How could she stay away from the friends who +were gathering at the college? How could she live +without her piano? How could she keep a smile so that +the dear ones at home would not see how unhappy she +was becoming? The house seemed so big and bare; the +trees in the yard seemed to sigh instead of sing; the way +ahead seemed full of blackness. She longed for all that +had gone; she longed for her friends, especially the one +who had been her ideal during her college days; she +longed to run back to him for always.</p> +<p>But on this October morning, she had risen early to +keep the quiet hour before the rest were up. Usually +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +she read in the gospels, but this morning her Bible +opened to the Psalms and she read, “I will lift up mine +eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help. My +help cometh from the Lord who made heaven and earth.” +She stopped and looked from the window at Mt. Kearsarge +in the distance.</p> +<p>Then she read again, “I will lift up mine eyes unto the +hills from whence cometh my help.” “Ah!” said the girl, +“I need help. God knows I need help. I wonder if +there is any help for me. ‘I will lift up mine eyes unto +the hills from whence cometh my help.’ Perhaps if I +should go out into the hills for the day, God would help +me. I think I will try it.”</p> +<p>To the mother she had said, “I think I should like to +go for a long walk to-day if you do not mind. I feel +like having a tramp,” and then with lunch box in hand +and book under her arm, she had started.</p> +<p>As long as father and mother could see, she had smiled +and waved to them, but when the turn in the road had +come, the light faded from her eyes and her problem +was still before her. The night before had been endless, +yet there were longer ones to come. No wonder she +saw no sunshine, heard no bird and saw no brook as she +walked along the country road.</p> +<p>On and on she went; mile after mile was put behind +her, till the sun was high in the heaven and she was +weary and hungry. Then a sudden turn in the road +brought her to the foot of a little lake—one of those +mountain lakes that make New Hampshire so beautiful. +All around it were hills; the water was very, very blue and +its surface was as calm as could be. A moss-covered stone +was very near and the girl sank beside it and, leaning +her head on her hand, she looked at the quiet waters.</p> +<p>“Ah!” she said to herself, “how I wish my life were +as calm as the lake. One would never dream that it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +ever were rough and troubled. I wish God could send +peace to me as He sends it to the little lake.”</p> +<p>Her eyes wandered to the shores and then to the +hills about the lake. How beautiful the tall pines and +spruces were! How fragrant the resinous balsams! +How bleak and cold the trees with no leaves!</p> +<p>Then her eyes turned to the top of the hills when +suddenly—it seemed as if by magic—there stood out +before her, as if outlined in the sky, the giant face of a +man. What could it be? Had it been carved there? +How strong and noble the face seemed to be! How had +it come to be there at the very top of the hill? Then +she remembered a story she had heard when first she +had come to the valley. This must be the “Old Man of +the Mountain.” For centuries and centuries he had +stood here guarding the little lake.</p> +<p>When the wonder of finding the Great Stone Face had +passed by, she studied it. The forehead was high and +the face of noble mien. The mouth showed much of +strength. It was a face one would like to see often. +God had put it there—the God who made the heaven +and earth. Then there came to her mind again the verse +of the morning, “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills +from whence cometh my help.” Perhaps the Old Man +of the Mountain could help her. He had stood here for +years and years. He must know what it meant to be +weary with the long days and the longer nights. He +must have seen the multitude pass by and still leave him +in the mountains. Perhaps he would understand how +lonely and full of unrest she was.</p> +<p>So leaning her head on the moss-covered stone, she +said dreamily, “Old Man of the Mountains, if you were +I and were longing to go back to your work and your +friends, if you were afraid of the long winter that is +coming, if you had a duty to do right here when you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +longed to be there, if you had a father who needed you +and a mother who is brave as can be, and still there +burned within you the longing to get back to the others, +what would you do? Are you never weary with it all? +Do you never long to run away from your task that God +has given you to do? Are you never discontented? +Oh, Old Man of the Mountain, if you were I and had +my burden to carry, what would you do?”</p> +<p>A silence was everywhere as she listened for his answer. +Not a bird sang, not a ripple crossed the lake. +For a moment she watched the face—then another, and +then she was sure that she saw the face begin to relax. +A sign of a twinkle came across the great stone eyes +and the lips smiled as there came to her heart this +answer:</p> +<p>“Oh, little girl from the city with a burden to carry! +What would I do if I had a father who was surely growing +strong and a mother who had smiled through the +days of the sickness? What would I do if I longed to +go back to the life of pleasure and happiness when my +duty lay here? What would I do if I had forgotten the +books that might be read during the long winter nights +for which there had been no time in the city; the lessons +of patience and loyalty that might be learned in doing +the hard thing; the happiness of really being needed? +What would I do if I were you and were lonely and +discouraged and heartsick?</p> +<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto; '><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>I would be true, for there are those that trust me;</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>I would be pure, for there are those who care;</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>I would be strong, for there is much to suffer;</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>I would be brave, for there is much to dare.</p> +<br /> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>I would be friend of all—the foe, the friendless;</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>I would be giving, and forget the gift;</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>I would be humble, for I know my weakness;</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0.0em;'>I would look up, and laugh, and love, and lift.<a name="FNanchor_A" id="FNanchor_A"></a><a href="#Footnote_A" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> +</td></tr></table> + +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></div> +<p>“Aye, little girl from the city, I would go back into the +little home under the hill with all its comfort, and home-likeness, +and wealth of love, and I would look up to God +for help; I would laugh at the hard things and help them +to vanish from sight; I would love the dear ones who +are dearer to you than life itself; and I would lift, not +only their burden, but that of others who need you in +this beautiful valley.”</p> +<p>Slowly the face was again set into the lines that others +saw and the head of the girl dropped deeper into the +moss. For a long time there was no sign that she had +heard. Then she lifted a face, full of light, to that of +the Old Man of the Mountain.</p> +<p>“Thank you, my friend,” she said. “I have lifted my +eyes unto the hills and help has come. I will go back +to the little white house and, with God’s help, I will look +up, and I will laugh, and I will love, and I will lift.”</p> +<p>So she ate her lunch by the calm, little mountain lake +and the tiny breezes whispered in her ears. Then she +walked again the winding road that led down to the home. +But the sky was blue and full of beauty; the birds heard +an answering call; the little brook gave her to drink, +and the chipmunk found on his stump a little piece of +the cake from the box. Her face was smiling and her +heart full of courage, for she had looked unto the hills—and +God had answered.</p> + +<hr style='width: 10%; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both; margin: 2em auto 1em 0' /> + +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_A' id='Footnote_A'></a><a href='#FNanchor_A'><span class='label'>[A]</span></a> +<p style='font-size: small'>Poem by Harold Arnold Walter.</p></div> + +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='THE_APPEAL_TO_THE_GREAT_SPIRIT' id='THE_APPEAL_TO_THE_GREAT_SPIRIT'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +<h2>THE APPEAL TO THE GREAT SPIRIT</h2> +</div> + +<p>Owaissa, the Indian Squaw, sat before the tepee +watching little Litahni play with the colored stones. +The child was the idol of the tribe, for was not her father +the great chief Black Hawk who had done so much for +his people? So, lest anything should happen to the little +one, Owaissa made it her chief task to be where the child +was and to teach her the things she wanted her to know.</p> +<p>Three years before, the good missionary who was +leaving the encampment had said to Owaissa, “Soon there +will come to your tepee a little child. Should it be a +little girl, teach her to see herself in the things about her, +so that the birds, and the trees, and the flowers, and the +winds may all help her to grow true and fine, even as +they help the young braves to grow brave and strong. +The girls of your Indian tribes are not given half a +chance to see the helpers all about them. Teach her to +see, as I have taught you to see, what a woman can do.”</p> +<p>And the words of the missionary had burned into the +very soul of Owaissa. Her child should have a chance. +So when the little girl had come to her wigwam, she had +named her Litahni—a little light—and she had sought +for ways to help her to see what nature meant that man +should see.</p> +<p>“Catch a little raindrop,” she said to the little girl +as she played near the wigwam. “Every raindrop helps +some plant, even though it is so little. You are tiny, +too, but you can help every day just as the raindrop +does.”</p> +<p>“See the beautiful sunset,” she said to the older girl, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +as they tramped home from gathering the wood for the +fire. “The colors are creeping all over the sky. We +see the sunset here and we are happy because it is so +beautiful, but away over the mountains in the far away +the sunset is just as beautiful and they are happy there as +they see it. You can bring happiness, too, both here and +far away, if your life is beautiful.</p> +<p>“Listen to the wind in the trees,” she said to the girl +of fourteen who was eager to do that which father wanted +her to leave undone. “You cannot see the wind, yet it +sways the great trees and sometimes fells them. You +can bend the will of the strong men of the tribe but you +cannot do it by talk and by ugly words. Learn to bend +by gentleness and quietly. Learn to steal into their lives +as the wind steals through the trees.”</p> +<p>When the girl was sixteen, the young men of the tribe +were beginning to love her and to want to take her to +their wigwams. Then the mother knew she must show +her how to choose. So she sought for ways to help her +as they hunted the mountains for the wild berries. Often +they sat by the lakeside for their midday meal. Sometimes +it was rough and sometimes calm.</p> +<p>“See, daughter,” said Owaissa. “The little lake is +very rough to-day. Sometimes our lives are like the +little lake. Not always are they calm. Storms sweep +over the life. But take the lesson from the lake. Be +beautiful through it all. Down beneath the surface, the +water is calm and untroubled even though the white caps +are above.”</p> +<p>Once they were caught in the mountains in a terrific +storm. Litahni crept close to the mother when the thunder +rolled loud and long, but she loved to see the long +streaks of lightning flash across the sky.</p> +<p>Then Owaissa said, “The thunder cannot hurt you, +dear. Seldom does that which comes with a big noise +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +do the harm, for one can run from it and be safe. Fear +that which comes silently and swiftly and which strikes +at the heart. The lightning yonder is far from us but +it may strike at the heart of a giant pine and fell it to +the ground. That which should have stood long and +sturdy is then rendered useless and laid low.”</p> +<p>With the coming of the winter the good squaw died +and there were evil days ahead for the Black Hawk tribe. +They were having quarrels with the white men, and the +chief was very busy. So Litahni was left much alone +and the days were long and lonely. Now she was glad +for all that her mother had taught her, for the birds, and +the flowers, and the trees, and the animals all helped her +to pass the days and they spoke to her of the things that +her mother had taught her. She tried hard to help her +father, and often she knew that she had helped him, but +she longed to do more.</p> +<p>“No squaw has ever done it, but I believe I can. I +shall teach my people to love the white man’s God, for +then we should not have wars and quarrels,” said the +girl.</p> +<p>So she taught the little children; she told stories to +the squaws and she won the confidence of the young +men of the tribe who would soon be in the council fires. +And all the tribe loved Litahni, the beautiful daughter +of Black Hawk and Owaissa.</p> +<p>One day, across the plain, there came a white man. +He was tall and dark and sturdy-looking. He had education +and he could talk well. Litahni saw much of +him for a few days and she came to honor the white +man as she listened to him drive the bargains for the +furs and the blankets and the baskets.</p> +<p>Now, as the white man watched the little Indian +teacher, he saw how far above the tribe she was. He +loved her pretty face, her sweet way and her gentle +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +spirit. Then the white man wanted to win the Indian +girl. In the far East, he had left a girl who loved him +but he wanted the Indian girl,—so he began silently to +make love to her. Of course he knew that her father +would never consent. He knew that he would be driven +from the encampment if ever they found what he was +doing, so hastily and quietly he worked to win her.</p> +<p>He told her of the wonderful land from which he +had come; of the beautiful houses in which his friends +lived; of the lives of ease which they lived; then he told +her of his love for her and begged her to flee with him +to his land and his people. To Litahni, it was all so +wonderful that she listened happily. How she would +love to see it all! If she went there, she could see again +the missionary of whom the mother had told her so +often.</p> +<p>And when he had finished, she told him of her dreams—how +she wanted to help the tribe to learn to love the +great God, and to make the tribe of Black Hawk the +finest tribe in all the land around.</p> +<p>But when she, too, had finished, he loved her all the +more for her beautiful wish, so he held her closely to +him and said:</p> +<p>“But, Litahni, to love and to be loved is a far greater +happiness than to lift, or to bend, or to lead the tribe. +Leave that to your father. All these things you can do +to me and to my people. Would you waste your life +here on the plains? Think what I can give you. Your +mother longed to go beyond the mountains into the +sunrise. Come with me and I will take you there. To +love and to be loved is the best that ever comes into a +life. And I love you, Litahni! Why should you think +of your father? He has many things to think of and +has little time for you. I will make you my queen. +To-morrow I must go. So to-night, I shall come for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +my answer after the sun has set. Meet me, dear, by the +giant tree near the spring and we will go together. The +train leaves not long after the sunset and I will have a +horse at the spring on which we can get to the train. +Come with me, dear. Forget your people and be my +Litahni.”</p> +<p>There was a noise near by—and the white man was +gone. But Litahni sat deep in thought. While he had +been with her, she longed to go with him. But as she +sat now and looked down into the valley at the encampment, +she was not so sure. Her mind was all awhirl. +Was this the way to happiness? What would mother have +said? She wanted her to have the best, but what was +the best? It was only a few hours till the sunset and +what should she do? Was there no one to help her?</p> +<p>Suddenly from the roadway below she heard a +neigh. It was Fleetfoot, and he was tired of being tied +to a sapling. Now Litahni loved Fleetfoot, her horse, +for they had grown up together, so she hurried to the tree +where she had left him, untied his bridle, jumped on his +back and whispered,</p> +<p>“Fly, Fleetfoot! Fly into the sunset. Go fast and +go far and let me think as we fly.”</p> +<p>Then the horse sped away toward the north. As they +passed the little lake in the valley it whispered, “Life +is not always calm. There must be tempests. But +you can be calm in your inner life and you can be beautiful +through it all.”</p> +<p>Up the hill she went, and as the wind blew over her +face it seemed to say, “Why be bent? Why not bend?” +At the top, looking far across a distant plain, her +mother’s voice seemed to whisper, “Look far ahead, little +girl. Look far ahead. What seems wonderful may +prove to be only a shadow.”</p> +<p>On they flew. The girl’s face was flushed and thoughtful. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +Soon she must turn if she would be at the meeting +place. Where was Fleetfoot taking her? Perhaps he +knew best what she should do.</p> +<p>Suddenly at a bend in the road Fleetfoot gave a great +leap, startling the girl and almost making her lose her +balance. Across the path, a giant tree had been felled +by the lightning and there it lay, prone and helpless.</p> +<p>Then she shuddered. “Fear that which comes quickly +and silently and which strikes at the heart.” Only a +week before she had not known the white man—even +now her father did not know that she knew him. Ought +she to be afraid? If she met him, it must be silently, in +the cover of the dark.</p> +<p>At last Fleetfoot stood, panting and breathless, on the +great rock that topped the cliff. Often had he come here +with his mistress, so he waited for her to dismount. The +sky was aflame with color—all red and gold and yellow. +Far to the North there were blues and pinks. What a +wonderful sunset it was! Surely it must be the home +of a great, great God.</p> +<p>Litahni sat motionless for a time, drinking in all the +glory of the scene. Then she threw her arms high over +her head and, lifting her face into the sunset, she cried,</p> +<p>“Oh, thou Great Spirit to whom my people have always +prayed, though they knew thee not as the great +God; oh thou to whom my mother taught me to pray, +show me the way to happiness. I would my life should +be as my mother wished it to be—a little light. I would +do my best in the right place. Is love for the white man +the way to happiness? Is it the way in which I should +go? Answer as by fire. I beg of thee. Answer me as +by fire, oh, thou great God of the Indian.”</p> +<p>Motionless the horse and his rider stood as the moments +passed by, one, two, three. The red of the sunset +enfolded them and God was very near. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></p> +<p>Suddenly far to the south there rose a tiny black cloud. +Very tiny it was, yet it grew and it grew. It blotted out +the red and then the yellow and then the gold, and then +the whole sky was dark and the wind blew chill.</p> +<p>Slowly Litahni’s arms relaxed and her head fell to the +mane of the horse. When she lifted it, her face looked +tired and worn, but over it there was a look of peace. +Patting the mane of the horse, she said:</p> +<p>“Thank you for bringing me here, Fleetfoot. The +Great Spirit has answered and I shall stay here with +Father and with you. To love selfishly is to blot out all +the beautiful. He who would be my chief must not +want me to run away from helping and giving. He must +help me to serve my people. The Great Spirit has answered +by fire and I am content. I will stay here and +serve my people in the way my mother taught me to do, +and I will wait for the one whom the Great Spirit will +send to me some day to be my Chief.”</p> +<p>Then slowly Fleetfoot picked his way over the narrow +trail in the darkness, and, because it was late, the white +man had come and gone away alone. But Litahni, bending +low over the couch where her father should sleep, +smiled as she stretched the skins in place for the night. +Even as the animals had given their skins that her father +might be warm, so she was ready to give her little light +to make him happy and comfortable, even as Owaissa, +her noble mother, had done.</p> +<p>And Litahni was content.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='A_PARABLE_OF_GIRLHOOD' id='A_PARABLE_OF_GIRLHOOD'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +<h2>A PARABLE OF GIRLHOOD</h2> +</div> + +<p>Behold a girl went forth to walk on the highway +leading to life. And as she walked there grew up +beneath her feet flowers of every kind and color.</p> +<p>“Ah!” she said, “I will gather a sheaf of flowers +to carry with me, for then, surely, I shall be welcome +when I come to the gate at the end of this way. I will +gather what seemeth to me to be the most beautiful of +all the flowers that grow about me. They shall be my +gift to the one who guards the way.”</p> +<p>And as she plucked, the one that seemed to be most +wonderful was the one most bright, gleaming yellow as +the sun. “It is yellow like gold,” she said. “If I come +with the sign of gold, I shall be welcome. I will pluck +it everywhere I can and carry only yellow flowers.” +And soon her arms were full, but somehow her fingers +seemed hot and unpleasant and her arms were heavy, so +she dropped some by the way and carried only those that +seemed most desirable.</p> +<p>But some were blue—blue as the sky. “Blue for blue +blood,” she said. “Those of royal birth are always to +be desired. I shall make my sheaf largely of blue.” So +she added one here and another there till she was satisfied +that the sheaf would be of all the sheaves the most +beautiful. But the odor was sickening, and again one +after another was dropped till only a few remained.</p> +<p>And some flowers there were in the path that were +red. “One needs fewer of these,” she said, “but surely +some must be red. I shall put red flowers for courage +where they shall be seen, for courage is of all the virtues +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +to be desired.” But there were thorns on the red flowers +and, try as she would, she could not hide the thorns so +that they might not pierce her flesh. So there could be +few of the red in the sheaf.</p> +<p>Some plants there were that bore no blossoms but the +leaves were beautiful, so she added leaves of this and of +that, even though she knew that in some there was deadly +poison. “I can hide it among the rest. It is so beautiful +that it must be a part of my sheaf,” thought the girl.</p> +<p>But along the way, there had been many flowers that +had been passed unnoticed. White they were. Often +they were small but always they were pure and sweet. +Only once had she plucked one and then she had added +it because of its fragrance. “Oh, yes,” she said, “I know +white is for purity but white flowers are old-fashioned. +Of course I must have a few but many would spoil my +sheaf. It must be bright with color.”</p> +<p>So the days flew by and her sheaf was nearly complete. +She had thought it the most beautiful thing she could +possibly make. But one day as she walked, suddenly she +saw, standing erect by the road, a beautiful, stately lily. +Its beauty startled her. She stooped to smell of its +fragrance. Then she glanced from it to the flowers in +her sheaf.</p> +<p>If she plucked the lily and tried to place it in the sheaf, +its beauty would be spoiled. What should she do? With +all her heart she longed to take the lily with her to the +end of the way. Should she throw the rest away? +Would she be welcome with only the one flower? Long +she hesitated.</p> +<p>Then she laid the yellow, and the blue, and the red, and +the rest aside and carefully gathered it. So in her hand +she carried the lily with the petals of pure white and the +heart of gold.</p> +<p>And lo, she had come to the stile which endeth the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +way of girlhood. There, standing guard over the way +ahead, was a woman in white, holding by the hand a +tiny, little child. Looking straight into the eyes of the +girl, she said sweetly,</p> +<p>“Welcome, my child, from the beautiful way of girlhood. +What hast thou brought as thy gift to coming +generations?”</p> +<p>Then the girl feared to answer. But she held the lily +toward the little child as she said, “I have brought purity +and a heart of gold.”</p> +<p>“Thou hast done well,” said the mother spirit. “Take +thou the child as thy reward. With this as thy gift, thou +art worthy to enter the way of motherhood. Lo, here are +some of the flowers that were left by the way. Well may +they go with thee, for they are very beautiful. But the +gift that thou didst choose was far more valuable and +beautiful than they. It was the gift that the Great desire.”</p> +<p>Then the girl and the child went together into the new +way. But the child was carrying the gift and she smiled +as she went.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='THE_HOUSE_OF_TRUTH' id='THE_HOUSE_OF_TRUTH'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +<h2>THE HOUSE OF TRUTH</h2> +</div> + +<p>It was plain to be seen that Bess Keats was very much +disturbed about something. She sat in the couch +hammock on the porch, talking to herself and occasionally +giving a sharp punch to the sofa pillow by her side.</p> +<p>“Mother is so old-fashioned,” she said to herself, “and +she gets worse every year. Last year she wouldn’t let +me wear the kind of dresses I wanted to and I looked +different from the rest of the girls all the year. Then +she wouldn’t let me go camping with the party because +only one mother was going to take care of us. Surely +one woman can take care of twenty boys and girls. Of +course I was glad I hadn’t gone when they had the accident +and partly burned the cottage, but she wouldn’t +let me go just because she had old-fashioned notions. +Girls these days don’t do as they did when she was +young.</p> +<p>“I just can’t see a reason in the world why I shouldn’t +invite Henry Mann to take me to the leap-year party at +the beach. Every girl in the crowd is asking a fellow +to take her. Of course if George were here, mother +might let me go with him; but he isn’t and all the girls +want Henry to go because he spends his money in such +a dandy way; so I said I would invite him to take me, +never thinking for a minute that mother would object. +And now she says, not only that I can’t ask him, but that +I can’t go. Well, I will, anyway. So there! I just +will go.”</p> +<p>Then Bess pushed her head far down in the pillow +to think out a way. If grandmother were only alive she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +would help her. She had always found a way to get +what Bess wanted. But grandmother was dead and Bess +must work it out alone, so she began to think.</p> +<p>Suddenly she heard a voice saying,</p> +<p>“Why, Bessie dear, whatever is the matter? You look +very unhappy. Tell me all about it.”</p> +<p>And there was grandmother with the neat, black silk +dress and the dainty white collar, and even the pretty +white apron that she used to wear. Oh! Oh! how glad +Bess was to see her!</p> +<p>Hand in hand, they went away from the house to +where the trees in the orchard were bending with fruit, +and, sitting there on a stone, Bess told her all about her +trouble. Whatever would the girls think of her when +she had promised to invite the boy they all wanted? And +after she had told it every bit, she squeezed grandma’s +hand very hard and said,</p> +<p>“And now, Granny dear, you will help me, won’t you? +It is perfectly all right to ask him for all the girls do it. +I want him to take me.”</p> +<p>“Well, well, dear,” said the grandmother, “if we find +that it is all right, I shall be glad to find a way to help +you. But we must see. We must see.”</p> +<p>“See what, grandmother?” asked the girl. “There is +nothing to see.”</p> +<p>“Indeed there is, child,” said Granny. “In times of +trouble one must always see the Truth. Then the way is +easy. After I see the Truth, I shall be able to tell what +to do. Come and we shall soon find out. You see you +belong to my family and my family is proud of the fact +that its girls have all been ladies. So we must go to the +keeper of the book and see what a lady can do in this +case.”</p> +<p>On and on they went till they came to a queer little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +old man standing before a big, big book. Granny went +daintily up to him and said,</p> +<p>“Will you tell me if it is ever right for a young lady +to ask a strange young man to take her to a dance, and +pay out his money for her, when he has not even been +to her home or met her mother? My grandchild says +all the girls do it, so I suppose it must be a new thing +that has been written in the book since I was a girl. I +want her to be sure to be a lady, so before I help her to +ask the boy to take her, I want you to look for the +rule.”</p> +<p>The little old man began slowly to shake his head but +he never said a word. He just looked and looked and +looked. His finger went up one page and down another. +Finally he looked straight at Bess and said to Granny,</p> +<p>“Your granddaughter is mistaken. That is not done +by ladies. It is not here. It is not here.”</p> +<p>“Oh, you are old-fashioned just like my mother,” began +Bess. “It may not be there but it is true just the +same that all ladies do it nowadays.”</p> +<p>“Hush, child,” said Granny. “What is written there +is true—but it is only half the truth even then. Let us +go and see the rest. If it is right for you to ask him, +then let us see the truth about the boy. Is he one that +our family would like to have specially chosen for your +friend? We must know about him.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Granny, he is all right. He doesn’t study much +and he doesn’t do what mother believes is right on Sunday. +But he has a car, and a motor boat, and he is all +right. Let me ask him,” begged Bess.</p> +<p>“Tut, tut, child,” said Granny. “Perhaps you do not +know. This is the House of Truth and we can tell.”</p> +<p>Then they entered a very large house and Granny +walked to a man who stood near the door.</p> +<p>“May I go to the M room?” she asked, with a smile. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span></p> +<p>“I will show you the way, lady,” said the man, and Bess +noted how the man had spoken the word “lady.” Somehow +every one knew as soon as they looked at Granny +that she was a lady. ’Twas very strange!</p> +<p>Down a long hall they went and then they stood before +a large wall of mirrors. What a strange place this was! +Before them in the mirror were many, many men and +boys, all struggling to get up a very steep hill. Some +had a few strings ahead of them to help them up and +many, many strings behind that were pulling them back +to the foot of the hill. Others had only a few in back +and many in front. Some were hopelessly entangled and +seemed not able to move. Who were they and what were +they doing?</p> +<p>Curiosity led Bess to study the scene in front of her. +On the very top of the hill there was a bright sign, +“Christian Manhood.” This, then, was the thing for +which they were struggling. But what were the strings? +She pushed and reached but she just couldn’t read the +words.</p> +<p>“Did you want to know the truth about a friend?” said +a voice. “I will gladly help you for you are young and +need to know. I am old and to know the truth may only +make me more unhappy. Take my place.” And she was +given a nearer stand.</p> +<p>Now she could read the words on the strings that held +the men back. One said “Drink” and another “Bad Companions,” +and another “Bad Temper.” Bess was very +much interested, so she began to study the faces of the +men who were pushing to the top.</p> +<p>Why! Away up there with the first was George +Meyer, her good friend from childhood. He had many, +many strings to help and only a few to hinder. And +there was Edward Mead. He was such a goody-goody +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +at school that she didn’t care much for him. Why, he +wouldn’t whisper at all!</p> +<p>Near the middle of the hill was Philip Marks. She +knew him well and he had many things to help and many +to hinder but he was surely trying. But Granny had +brought her here to see the truth about Henry Mann. +Was he here? She hadn’t seen him.</p> +<p>First she searched among those near the top. He was +such a bright boy when out with the crowd and he had +so many good things in his life that surely he must be +near the top. But he wasn’t there. Neither was he near +the middle. Surely he must be there somewhere for his +name began with M. Finally she asked the man who +had given her his place if he could see a boy named Henry +Mann on the hill.</p> +<p>“I should say I could,” was the answer. “There he +is near the foot of the hill, hopelessly entangled in his +drawbacks. It isn’t hard to find that young man here.”</p> +<p>Sure enough, there he was and Bess’s face grew very +red as she saw all the strings behind him. She was glad +Granny had gone to sit down so that she wouldn’t see +him. Perhaps she could read what some of his drawbacks +were, for he was quite near. There was, “Too +much money,” “Lazy,” “Unkind to his mother,” “Little +schooling,” “Drinks and smokes and swears,” “A +friend of careless girls”....</p> +<p>Oh, dear! Bess didn’t want to read any more. What a +list he had! There were one or two good strings but +they could not do much against so many others to pull +him back.</p> +<p>Up there very near to the top, George, her old friend, +was moving on and his face was so earnest. How different +it looked as she compared him with Henry at the +foot! She had never known before that he was so +handsome. What were the strings that were pulling +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +him forward? She leaned far forward to see. Just then +she heard Granny’s voice close at her elbow.</p> +<p>“Were you trying to look at George, Bess? He is a +long way toward manhood, isn’t he? Suppose you use +my little glass to help you.”</p> +<p>“Oh, now I can see,” she answered. There is “A good +mother,” “A keen mind,” “A strong body,” “Love of +right and truth,” “A good girl friend”....</p> +<p>“But, Granny dear,” said Bess, “one of his helps is ‘A +good girl friend.’ Has George a girl? I thought he +didn’t care for girls.”</p> +<p>“This is the House of Truth, dear,” said the old lady. +“I think perhaps that good girl friend means you, for +you have been a good friend to him. You know our +family have always been proud of their education and +their habits of life. I am sure it must have been a good +thing for George to grow up all these years with a good +chum like you. He must be a gentleman if he would be +fit to play with the daughter of a lady like your mother. +When I was here before, George had several other pull-backs, +but I see he has conquered them. But come, dear, +it is time we were going if I am to help you out of your +difficulty.</p> +<p>“Let me see, you wanted to ask Henry Mann to take +you to a party at the beach. Did you find him there? +Do you think your mother will change her mind when +we tell her the truth about the new friend whom you +wish to make? If so, I am ready to try, even though I +am not at all sure that a lady does those things. But +things change—things change very much and perhaps +you are right. What said the House of Truth? Shall +we invite him?”</p> +<p>“Oh, Granny, never, never!” cried the girl. “I could +never ask any one who was known as the friend of careless +girls. He has so many drawbacks—oh, no, never.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span></p> +<p>Just then a voice said, “Good evening, Miss Keats. I +hope I haven’t disturbed your nap. One of the girls told +me you were very anxious to see me, so I came up.”</p> +<p>And there stood Henry Mann.</p> +<p>For a moment the girl could not answer. The face +that had looked so handsome when it was pointed out +to her on the street yesterday now looked careless and +insolent. She wanted to run away and not even answer.</p> +<p>But just at that moment the door opened and her +mother came out. She was dressed so prettily and her +voice was soft and sweet as she said, “I think I haven’t +met you, but you must be one of my daughter’s friends. +Will you be seated?”</p> +<p>“A man must be a gentleman if he would be fit to play +with the daughter of a lady like your mother,” thought +Bess.</p> +<p>Then she straightened her shoulders and, smiling, said, +“Mother, this is Henry Mann, of whom I spoke to you.”</p> +<p>Turning to the boy, who still stood at the top of the +steps, she said, “Thank you so much for calling, Mr. +Mann. There has been a mistake. Mother prefers that +I should not go to the party at the beach and of course +I want to do as she thinks best. I am sorry to have +made you this trouble. Perhaps one of the other girls +will be asked to fill my place so that you can still be one +of the party.”</p> +<p>Then Henry Mann tipped his hat and went down the +street thinking how beautiful the mother and daughter +were. But Bess and her mother stood there with their +arms about each other, waiting for father to come home +to tea. And Bess was no longer unhappy.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='MARKED_FOR_A_MAST' id='MARKED_FOR_A_MAST'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +<h2>MARKED FOR A MAST</h2> +</div> + +<p>Mary had just come from the little post-office in the +town where she was spending the summer, and in +her hand she held a bunch of letters. Mail time was the +event of the day, and all the summer people flocked about +the office as soon as the little boat carrying the mail was +heard blowing her whistle below the bend.</p> +<p>To-day Mary had been very impatient as the old postmaster +had slowly sorted the mail. She had watched +him look carefully at one address after another, and, +knowing him as she did, she was sure that many in the +town would know by night how many interesting letters +had come to people in the town. She had been almost +the first at the little window for her mail and then had +had to brave the laugh of the rest when Mr. Blake had +said,</p> +<p>“Here’s your letter and it’s a fat one that took four +cents. My, but he must like you.”</p> +<p>Mary had been waiting for this very letter because in +the last one George had said, “I have a big surprise in +store for you but I can’t tell you yet—maybe in the next +letter.”</p> +<p>So this long one must be the surprise. Eagerly she +tore it open and read the first two pages that told of +things happening in the home town and good times the +young people were having. Then she read,</p> +<p>“And now for my secret. You know we are going to +our camp for a whole month of fun in August. Mother +likes you and you are such good company for us all that +she tells me to write in her name and ask you to spend +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +the first two weeks with us there. Don’t say no for we—no, +I—must surely have you to share our good times.”</p> +<p>The first two weeks! Those were the weeks she had +planned to go to the conference and train for some special +work for the church during the coming winter. The +church had said they would pay her expenses if she cared +to go, and already she had made application. Oh, dear! +Now what should she do? She had said to her pastor, +“I want to go to the conference more than anything I +have ever wanted but I can’t afford to go.” Now she +wanted to go with her friends and she would have to say +to him, “I want a good time more than I want the conference.” +The conference would come again the next +year, but this invitation might never come again.</p> +<p>To be sure, she had many, many good times. Maybe +she would have a good time at the conference. Which +did she want the more? If she went with her friends, she +could not do the winter work at the church as it ought +to be done. But there was the last sentence. “We—no, +I—must have you to share our good times.” That meant +a lot to her as she read it. Should she go to the conference +or should she go to the camp?</p> +<p>Mechanically she turned the other letters over. There +was one from mother, and one from a school friend, and +a business letter—oh, here was a correspondence card +from Mrs. Lane, her teacher in the Church School.</p> +<p>“Dear Mrs. Lane,” thought Mary. “How I should +love to see her! She was going to Maine. I wonder if +this little snapshot is a picture of some pines where she +is staying.”</p> +<p>After looking long at the beautiful, tall pines in the +picture, she turned to the card and read,</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<p>“<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dear Mary</span>:</p> +<p>“As we came up the beautiful Sebago Lake last week, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +I saw something that reminded me of you so strongly +that I must tell you of it. Away off in the distance, we +saw some wonderful pines that towered high above the +rest. They seemed so tall that we spoke to the pilot of +the boat about them and he told us this story about them.</p> +<p>“‘Years and years ago, before this land was settled by +any but the Indians, King George of England sent men +to this country to look for tall trees that would make +good masts for his ships. They went up the rivers and +lakes looking everywhere for the special trees. Here +on these hills they found these great trees. So the men +marked “K.G.” on the trees, charted them on a map +which they carried, and went on their way. But for +some reason they were never cut and carried away to +be used on his ships. There they stand to-day, strong +and straight, marked for masts.’</p> +<p>“After the old man had finished his story and had +left us, I said to my friend, ‘Marked for a mast because +it is straight and strong. I have a girl who also is +marked for a mast and some day she will carry with her, +under her colors, many boys and girls. We are sending +her to the leaders’ conference this summer so that she +may begin to make ready for her work.’ Mary, dear, +it is wonderful to have been chosen by the King of England +and to have been marked for use with his initials, +but it is more wonderful to have been chosen by a greater +king and marked with his name. Perhaps you can guess +what the mark I see on you might be—It is C. L. Write +and tell me all about the conference, won’t you?</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p style=' margin-right:4em;'>“Lovingly your friend,</p> +<p>“<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Margaret Lane</span>.”</p> +</div> + +</div> +<p>’Twas a very thoughtful girl who went down the +street. In one hand a long letter and in the other a closely +written card. The one said, “Come and have a real +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +jolly, good time.” The other said, “Get ready for service.” +Which should it be?</p> +<p>As she sat in the hammock thinking of her good +friend in Maine, there came again to her mind the last +night Mrs. Lane had been with them. They had been +talking over plans for the summer and Mrs. Lane had +quietly said, “I like to think that a good time is one which +you carry with you and which means more to you as the +weeks go by than it did when you were enjoying it.” +Which good time would she carry with her longer? +Which would make of her the finer girl? Which did +she want most to carry with her? And as she thought, +the way became clearer.</p> +<p>Finally she went to her room and returned in a few +minutes with a writing case and pen.</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<p>“Dear George,” she began. “Weren’t you good to +ask me to go with the family to the camp! I can’t think +of any camp where I would enjoy myself more and I +surely appreciate the invitation. But I can’t accept it +this time for that is the time set for the conference to +which I am really going this year. Our church has made +it possible for me to go, and I know it will do much in +getting me ready to be of help to those who have helped +me so much. I shall have so much more to give when +I have studied for the two weeks with those who know, +and have given their lives to the service of others. ’Tis +an opportunity that I couldn’t miss—not even for two +weeks with you all. Thank you just the same.”</p> +</div> +<p>Mary read the letter, then as she sealed it, she said +with a smile, “Marked for a mast! Marked for a mast! +Surely I mustn’t bend or break if I can be a mast some +day and carry a king’s colors. C. L.?... C. L.?... +Ah, I have it. ’Tis the word that Mrs. Lane uses so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +often—a Christian Leader! ’Tis wonderful to have her +think I have been chosen to bear such a splendid name. +I can hardly wait to meet the rest of the girls, who also +wear the mark of the King, who will be there at the conference. +I may be—oh, I hope I am—marked for a +mast.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='HER_NEED' id='HER_NEED'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +<h2>HER NEED</h2> +</div> + +<p>She was just a girl with a foreign name, a foreign +face and a bit still of a foreign dress. But she was +a girl, just the same, and her face was full of longing. +Her home was near to a settlement where many girls +came for lessons and for play. But somehow they had +never asked her to come, though often she had sat on +the steps at night where they must pass her. She had +seen them come with their arms about each other, talking +and laughing and singing—and when they had passed, +she had gone to her lonely hall bedroom and hidden her +face in the pillow.</p> +<p>Oh, no, she didn’t cry. She was too brave to cry. +She just suffered alone and longed for help.</p> +<p>It had been a year since she had left the home across +the sea and had come to join her father in the land +where “work was plenty and friends were easily made.” +But she had found her father living where she could not +and would not live. The friends he had made in America +she could not and would not have for hers. So when +she had grown proficient enough in the factory, she had +gone to live in that loneliest of all lonely places—a boarding +house.</p> +<p>The days had passed one by one. Some of the boarders +called her fussy; some said she was cold; some said she +was “stuck-up” and none of them had found that beneath +the surface there was a sweet, gentle, lonely heart.</p> +<p>Then came the strike—and she was out of work. In +the bank she had a few dollars but they had soon fled +and now—oh, what could she do? The way was so black +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +ahead. She couldn’t go to her father and his friends. +What could she do?</p> +<p>The girls passed her as they went to the settlement +house but no one noticed her sad little face. So she +slowly rose and wended her way down the street. Out +of the poorer section she went, then down a long avenue +till she came to a great church. The altar lights were +lighted. All was quiet and restful, so she sat, and +looked, and listened for the still, small voice that she +longed to hear.</p> +<p>A long, long time she sat there, counting her beads. +Then she slowly rose and entered the confessional, but +when she came out there was still the look of longing in +her face. Toward the altar she went. Perhaps in the +communion she might find help for her troubled soul, +and again she counted her beads.</p> +<p>But, somehow, there was no prayer on the beads that +seemed just what she wanted to say. Again, she went +to the altar. But this time she lifted a face, white with +suffering and thin from lack of food, to the face of the +Christ above the altar and from the depths of her heart +she prayed,</p> +<p>“O God! My God! I do not ask for money, though +I am hungry. I do not ask for a home, though I am oh! +so very lonely. I do not ask for work, though I have +none. For only one thing I ask. Give me a friend. Oh, +give me a friend! For Jesus’ sake. Amen.”</p> +<p>Again she walked back through the avenue and down +the narrow street to her only home. The doors of the +settlement were opened and the girls came out, happy as +birds in the springtime. Quietly she watched them as +they came nearer. Then suddenly one of them stopped.</p> +<p>“Excuse me for speaking to you,” she said, “but our +guardian heard that you lived in this house, so she asked +us to come and invite you to come to Camp Fire with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +us next Tuesday. We are to have a supper together so +that you will soon know us all and then we are to go +for a hike together. Shall we stop for you as we go?”</p> +<p>For a moment she could not answer. In her throat +was a lump so big that she could not swallow. Then +she said in a low, sweet voice,</p> +<p>“Indeed I should like to go. Thank you for asking +me.”</p> +<p>And the girls passed down the street, singing their +Camp Fire song.</p> +<p>But up in the little hall bedroom there was a girl with +a foreign name, and a foreign face, and a bit of a foreign +dress. She was on her knees, looking up at the heavens +full of stars and over and over she was saying, “Oh, +I thank thee. I thank thee. I have a chance to be a +friend.”</p> +<p>And her heart was content.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='THE_MESSAGE_OF_THE_MOUNTAIN' id='THE_MESSAGE_OF_THE_MOUNTAIN'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +<h2>THE MESSAGE OF THE MOUNTAIN</h2> +</div> + +<p>“In the beginning God created the heaven and the +earth.”... “Lo, I am with you alway, even unto +the end of the world.” These were the two sentences +that were neatly written on two pieces of paper on +Marcia Loran’s desk and the girl sat looking at them +while the minutes went steadily by. How could they be? +How could a power that made the earth be also in her +life? How could it be?</p> +<p>Marcia had always been a reader of her Bible; she had +always loved her mother’s God and she loved Him now, +but she was longing for help and no one seemed near to +give it. And the reason for the need of this help was +easy to give. The new girl who had moved into the +next room had been laughing at her belief in God and +Marcia knew no way to answer. She had hoped that her +course in Bible at college would help her but somehow +she seemed less able than ever to answer it now.</p> +<p>Who was God? Where was God? How could she +know that these two verses could both be true? It was +an honest doubt and she knew she must answer it before +her mind could be at rest. She felt she could never +ask the question in a letter to her mother, for mother +must never know that she was questioning. Oh, if only +some one knew how much she needed help!</p> +<p>But it was time for the picnic which the members of +her class were to have, so she slipped the papers again +into her Bible and went to the campus. They were to +climb one of the mountains near by and dear old Professor +Hastings was to be their guide. Old in years but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +young in heart and lithe still in limb, he stood out +among the students as one of the best of the companions. +As they climbed, Marcia kept near to him.</p> +<p>“I am looking,” he said, “for a rare little flower which +grows on this mountainside. Perhaps you can help me +find it. It is very tiny and it grows in the crevice of the +rock. But I am needing a specimen of it for my collection.”</p> +<p>So together they looked in every crevice but not a bit +of the little white blossom did they see.</p> +<p>Up, and up, and up they went. Some were tired and +waited for the rest to climb and return. Some even went +back down the mountainside. But when the top was +reached, what a wonderful view spread out before them! +Mountains and lakes and streams; villages and cities and +lonely farms; beauty and calmness and majesty, all seemed +to flood in at once on the minds and hearts of those who +looked.</p> +<p>After they had rested a while, the old man lightly +touched the hand of the girl and said,</p> +<p>“I have heard it said that one of my blossoms has +been found on that cliff not far away. Will you come +with me to see?”</p> +<p>So they began to search the cliff; then they found a +hidden cave and explored that; Marcia heard a tiny stream +of water trickling in the cave, and when she had found +the water, she found also, close to the water’s edge, a +beautiful clump of waxy white blossoms, sweet and +fragrant, and hanging tightly to the rock.</p> +<p>“Oh! oh! Come, sir,” called the girl. “I am sure +these are what you seek. Oh, how beautiful they are!” +And they stooped to gather them.</p> +<p>But just at that moment a flash of lightning lighted +the cave and the thunder rolled. In a moment the rain +was coming in torrents, and the noise of the thunder +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +as it rolled from cliff to cliff was terrifying. A giant +pine tree which stood just before the entrance of the +cave was rent from top to bottom and went crashing +down the mountainside. The noise of the wind and +storm was deafening. Pale and trembling, the girl pushed +farther and farther into the cave till, crouching down, +she touched something cool. It was the little white +flowers.</p> +<p>They were not afraid. The rain might fall as hard +as it would but it would not blast their beauty. They +were protected by a bit of overhanging rock. The lightning +might flash about the cave but it was calm inside. +Who had made the tiny blossoms to grow here in the +rock, protected from storm and blast? God! She, too, +was being cared for while her companions might be in +the fury of the storm. Who was caring for her? Her +friend? No, he was interested in something at the entrance +of the cave. God was caring for her even as he +cared for the little blossom.</p> +<p>“Come, Marcia, come and watch the storm,” called the +professor. “I have never seen such a beautiful one. +Isn’t it strange that that electricity was all there in the +clouds as we came up the mountain though we knew it +not? I love to watch a storm for it shows so clearly the +power and majesty of our God. Watch the trees bend +with the wind! Listen to the rocks send back the sound +of the thunder! See the little bird on yonder nest snuggling +close to keep the little ones safe! And see, far +away, the sun shining on the little village of the plain. +We are in the storm, child, yet we are safe and sheltered.”</p> +<p>With her hand held fast in that of her old friend, the +fear gradually died away, and when the storm was over +she, too, was glad she had seen from the mountaintop +the wonder of a mountain storm. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span></p> +<p>Soon they gathered the little white blossoms, but not +all of them found their way into the collection at the college. +A little spray was tenderly pressed between the +leaves of Marcia Loran’s Bible and a third little slip of +paper was fastened to the other two. It read: “God is +great but God is love. I will trust him and not be afraid.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='THE_WINNING_OF_AN_HONOR' id='THE_WINNING_OF_AN_HONOR'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +<h2>THE WINNING OF AN HONOR</h2> +</div> + +<p>Barbara Lewis was very much puzzled. All the +girls in her camp fire were winning the right to embroider +their symbol on the dress of their guardian and +she wanted to do the same. But how could she? She +had chosen for her name, “Chante—I <i>serve</i>,” and she +wanted to really win the right to have the name, but how +could she? She was not allowed to go into the kitchen +to help there at home, for the cook would leave if she +were disturbed, so she couldn’t do as some of her friends +were doing and learn to cook. She couldn’t serve mother, +for mother was always away at the club or doing work +about the country for the suffrage cause. There were +maids to do the mending and the sewing, so how could +she serve there?</p> +<p>Some of the girls could serve at their church, but her +teacher had never asked her to do one thing, though she +was always ready. Her teacher had not formed a club +of her girls, so of course she knew them only on Sundays. +There was no chance to serve the church. If she only +knew the minister, perhaps he would suggest a way, but +he was very tall and very dignified, so she just couldn’t +ask him. Whatever could she do?</p> +<p>It had been weeks since their guardian had told them +that when they had earned the right to their names, they +could embroider the symbol on her dress, and every day +since then she had wished she knew what to do. Mary +had chosen the name “Aka—I <i>can</i>,” and when she had +proved that she could break herself of using slang by +using none for a whole month, she put a tiny little white +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +flower on the dress, for she was using pure speech.</p> +<p>“Frilohe” was the name Grace had chosen and it +meant, “<i>A friend who loves to help</i>.” Grace’s mother +had been in the hospital and Grace had taken care of the +brothers and sisters all the time, so, of course, they all +agreed that she had earned the right.</p> +<p>And now Barbara felt that she just must think of a +way. She would go to the library and ask her friend +there if she knew what she could do to serve.</p> +<p>Now it chanced that from that library there were going +out almost every day girls to tell stories to groups of +children about the city. Sometimes they went to the +orphan homes, sometimes to the hospitals, sometimes to +the crowded streets. Into many needy places they were +sent, and already the children were beginning to look for +the gypsy-girls who were story-tellers. As Barbara entered +the library, one of the girls was just leaving, so she +stopped for a moment and told about her new work and +how much she loved it.</p> +<p>“Aha,” said Barbara, “I believe I could do that. I +have read such lots and lots of stories, I am sure I could +do that. I should love to try. But they haven’t asked +me. I couldn’t volunteer, for mother would think me +very bold. Oh dear, I am sure I could serve in that +way.”</p> +<p>All the way home she thought the matter over and +then a plan came to her. Just back of the house there was +an alley and the little children there were always looking +through the fence at the flowers in her beautiful garden. +She would tell stories to these little children and see what +she could do. So she went into the house to find the +stories she would use. All the afternoon she looked in +her old books. Then she was sure she was ready.</p> +<p>For a long time she hesitated the next morning as she +dressed. She must look her very best if she was to win +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +the children. Finally she chose a little blue gingham dress +that she liked much—perhaps they would like it too. It +was only ten o’clock when she went into the garden to +wait. Dear me! Weren’t they coming this morning? One +hour passed and then another half.</p> +<p>Just then Tommy, the boy who threw stones, and +chased the cats, and did all sorts of things that were +naughty, pushed his dirty face against the fence. Oh my, +she could never tell stories to him! But Tommy saw her +there in the garden and said:</p> +<p>“Wisht you would give me a posy. Mom’s sick and +she hain’t got none.”</p> +<p>Then the gate of the garden was opened and Barbara +said:</p> +<p>“Of course I will give you some flowers for your +mother. Choose what you would like and I will cut it +with these shears.”</p> +<p>“Um! Um!” said Tommy. “Um! I’d like some of +them blue flowers. Say, I like blue flowers, and blue sky, +and I like that blue dress. I wish Mary had a blue +dress.”</p> +<p>“And who is Mary?” said Barbara.</p> +<p>“Oh, she is one of my sisters,” said Tommy. “You +see, there is six of us and Mary is the pretty one. She +has blue eyes and curls. Um! Um! I wish you could +see her.”</p> +<p>“I’d like to see her,” said Barbara. “If you will go +and bring her here I will tell you both a story. Would +you like that?”</p> +<p>“Sure,” said Tommy. “Sure I would. Kin I bring +them all?” and off he ran with his precious flowers.</p> +<p>In five minutes he was back, followed by Mary and +Katie and Jimmie and Mike and Susan—all dirty, all +barefoot, and all in a hurry to see the flowers and hear +the story. About this time Barbara began to feel queer +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +inside. How could she ever keep them still? Suppose +they should begin to run over her father’s flowers! She +almost wished she had not asked them to come. But she +remembered for what she was working, and she said to +herself, “Chante, <i>I serve</i>; Chante—<i>I serve</i>,” over and +over till her courage came back.</p> +<p>Then she seated them all on the steps and began. Susie +wanted “Red Riding Hood,” and Katie wanted “Goldilocks,” +so these were first. Then Mary wanted “Cinderella,” +but Tommy was not to be forgotten.</p> +<p>“I want a boy’s story. Tell me the one you promised +me or I’ll push the rest all home,” he said.</p> +<p>What could she do? She never remembered having +read a boy’s story. Oh dear, maybe she couldn’t win +Tommy.</p> +<p>Over and over in her mind went the stories she had +gotten ready. Then she remembered one that she had +loved years ago. It was about Cedric, the Knight. This +was just the one for Tommy. So she told it to him +while his eyes grew bigger and bigger. When the story +was done, Barbara and Tommy were friends and Tommy +had a new hero.</p> +<p>When the dinner bell rang, she was still telling stories +to the dirty little group but she had forgotten why she +was doing it, for she was living the stories with the children.</p> +<p>The days went by and every morning found Barbara +out in the garden, if only for one story, but now the +Lowinskys were not the only ones. They had brought +their neighbors and friends till the group sometimes numbered +forty. The steps had grown too small, so they had +moved to the wall. Then that had not been satisfactory, +so they had moved out under the trees away down by the +little brook. Here the birds sang, the little brook whispered, +and everything was just right for the little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +story-teller. Over and over she had told the stories with a new +one now and then, but Cedric, the Knight, was the favorite +one. Tommy always stood near Barbara and saw to +it that all the boys were listening, so he had a fine chance +to whisper, “Now my story. Please tell mine.”</p> +<p>And she was telling it again one morning when she +realized that some one stood near who was not a child. It +was Miss Rose, her guardian, who listened for a moment +and then drew back where the children could not see her. +When the story hour was over, she was nowhere to be +seen. But later in the evening a package was left at the +door for Barbara. It contained that precious dress for +which she had longed.</p> +<p>Pinned to the dress was a card which said, “Inasmuch +as ye have done it unto one of these, my little ones, ye +have done it unto me.” And below was written, “I shall +be glad to have you put your symbol on my dress before +Friday night so that we may tell the girls at the Ceremonial +about your story-group.”</p> +<p>Later when Barbara had finished the embroidery, it +showed a tiny figure of a primitive woman surrounded +by little children. And the little lady was telling them a +story. She had found her way to serve.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='DADDY_GRAY_S_TEST' id='DADDY_GRAY_S_TEST'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +<h2>DADDY GRAY’S TEST</h2> +</div> + +<p>May Langley had spent four happy years at the +University, and now Commencement time had +come. It had been easy for her to get her lessons, so she +had had time to herself. She was pretty and was always +well dressed; she could dance well and sing well, so of +course she had been a favorite, especially with the boys.</p> +<p>But the coming of the end of the school life had +brought to her a real problem. She knew some of the +boys would want to write to her. Deep in her heart she +knew that some of them already liked her more than a +little. She could not write to all of them. Whom should +she choose? Perhaps the one she chose would eventually +be the one she should marry, so it was wise to choose with +care. Over and over she turned the question in her +mind.</p> +<p>There was Tom,—gay, careless Tom with a big heart +and plenty of money. His father was an oil man and +there was no other child. He had done little with his +studies but he had given her many a good time. His life +would probably be one of ease. Tom was really quite +attractive.</p> +<p>Then there was Bob, the football player. Already his +name was known throughout the country. It was great +fun to go to games where he was to play, for she shared +the honors with him afterward. He was rough and +ready, and, at times, a bit too boisterous, but withal a +good fellow.</p> +<p>Then there was Earl, the student. He had ranked first +in his class but his books were all in all to him. A good +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +position was waiting for him in a neighboring college and +he had told her that he should marry so that he could +have a home of his own to which the students might +come.</p> +<p>There were others, too, but these three seemed to stand +out first in her thoughts. How could she decide? She +and her mother were alone in the world and mother was +a helpless cripple and so could not come to the Commencement. +For the first time in her life, she began to +face the future seriously.</p> +<p>’Twas the Sunday of Commencement week and she was +strolling across the campus when she saw in the distance +dear, old Professor Gray—Daddy Gray, the girls +called him.</p> +<p>“He is the very person to help me,” she said to herself, +and hurried to catch him before he left the campus.</p> +<p>“Daddy Gray,” she began, “I have a queer question to +ask you. I am choosing some boy friends whom I wish to +have as friends after I leave. Tell me some principles on +which to base my choice.”</p> +<p>A rare smile crossed the face of the old man as he +patted her golden hair.</p> +<p>“Good for you! I am glad you are thinking. Long, +long ago when my own girlies were choosing their friends +I asked them to remember two things as they chose—not +only that the one they chose might be their husband, +but that he also might be my son, and the father of their +children. One thinks much more about the principles +of the man who is to be father of their children than +about the man whom they love and want to marry. You +know what a high ideal your mother holds. Test your +friends by that also. Never mind yourself—think of +others.”</p> +<p>Then he left her to think.</p> +<p>And she did think! If Tom ignored her mother as he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +did his own, she could never bring him into their home. +Tom drank sometimes—oh, that would never do. Bob +was strong and healthy—but Bob had no use for God and +the church. Her children must have a Christian home. +Earl was a wonderful student, but he had undermined his +health. He stooped in his shoulders and there were signs +of a breakdown. Oh dear, what a hard test Daddy Gray +had given her!</p> +<p>So the days wore away and she found herself watching +as she had never watched before for marks of strength—mental, +moral and physical. Over and over the words +rang in her ears: “Never mind yourself—think of others.”</p> +<p>’Twas the afternoon of Commencement Day and her +room had many beautiful flowers. Tom’s bunch was of +great American Beauty roses and the card had made her +suddenly blush as she read it. But there had come in the +mail a great bunch of beautiful forget-me-nots, all fresh +with the dew in the grass. Who had sent them? She +loved them the best of all the flowers in the room. There +was no card to be found, so she tucked a few in her dress +beneath the cap and gown and ran away to the chapel.</p> +<p>There on the steps stood a young man and his mother, +and they were waiting for her.</p> +<p>“May, I want you to meet my mother, for I have told +her so much about you. To get her to come, I had to +drive all the way home to-day. But it is worth it, even +if I did have to get up before the sun did. She is the +very best mother in all the world,” said the boy, and he +squeezed the arm of the timid little lady.</p> +<p>“Maybe! Maybe! I am so glad to meet you,” said +the mother, “for I owe you much. You have helped Gene +such a lot. I am sure he would never have been able to +keep from smoking had it not been for you. He had +promised me to try. Then when you told him you did not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +like it, why, we worked together, you see. And it has been +so kind of you to go for the hikes when he has asked you, +for you see he couldn’t have afforded to go to places that +cost money, dear.”</p> +<p>May Langley opened her eyes wide. She had had no +idea that she had been helping. To be sure, she had gone +on many hikes with him after the geology class had +thrown them together. And she had enjoyed it, too, for +he was such good company. Always courteous, always +hunting for ways to make the trip more worth while and +always good natured, no matter what the weather, he had +been a companion worth while.</p> +<p>So she stood and talked with the mother and son for a +moment. How sweet the mother was and how proud he +was of her! It was a joy to watch them.</p> +<p>Suddenly he spied the bit of forget-me-not.</p> +<p>“Ah,” he said, “I had nearly forgotten to speak of +them. I passed a brook lined with them just before time +for the mail train to pass the station, so I just hopped out +of the car, emptied my lunch from the box and sent them +to you. But I never dreamed you would get them in time +to wear them. Maybe the little flowers will tell you +that I am hoping you are going to remember our happy +days here after we leave the campus. I want much +to feel that you have a little interest in me. I have told +mother much about you, for mother and I have no secrets. +May I write to you sometimes?”</p> +<p>Just then the bell rang for the line to form and she hurried +away, while he took his mother into the chapel. All +afternoon they were busy and there was little time to +think. But when May came to dress for the ball in the +evening, she stood long before the flowers on the table. +Then a sprig of the forget-me-not went into her hair +and a bunch was fastened to her belt. And when he asked +her for her answer as they stood on the veranda of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +fraternity house, she said simply, “I have enjoyed the time +spent with you; I am quite sure that I should like to know +you better. You may write to me if you care to do +so.”</p> +<p>But under her breath she was saying:</p> +<p>“Daddy Gray is right. The greatest test of a man is +not what he might be to you, but what he is and will be +to others. I’m quite sure Gene Powell can stand his test +and mine also.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='WANTED_A_REAL_MOTHER' id='WANTED_A_REAL_MOTHER'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +<h2>WANTED—A REAL MOTHER</h2> +</div> + +<p>Mary King sat before the dressing-table in her bedroom +holding in her hand a string of beads—pearls +they were, but they showed signs of much wear, and as +Mary looked at them her eyes blazed with anger.</p> +<p>To-morrow was her graduation day from the High +School. All day she had been at the class picnic and she +had had such a glorious time. They had danced and +played; they had rowed on the lake and sung their school +songs in the moonlight. She had been as happy as a girl +could be, and to have it spoiled in this way was cruel.</p> +<p>Why should her mother give her a string of old beads +for a graduation present? Other girls had wrist watches +and pretty dresses and checks and all sorts of beautiful +things. When they asked her what her mother’s gift had +been, how could she say, “A string of old beads”? Mother +would expect her to wear them at her graduation and how +could she?</p> +<p>She had found them on her table when she had come +into her room and with them was a note saying:</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<p>“<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dear Mary</span>:</p> +<p>“I waited for you to come home so that I could give +you my gift, but it is so late and I am too tired to wait +longer, so I will leave them for you. I could not buy you +a real gift, so I have given you the dearest thing I have. +Every bead has a story which some day I will tell you—perhaps +on the day that you graduate from college, but +not now. I hope you will love them as I do. I shall see +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +them to-morrow on your pretty new dress. Good night, +girlie. I hope you had a good time.</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p>“<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Mother.</span>”</p> +</div> + +</div> +<p>Why was mother so queer? All her life long it had +been hard for Mary to have her mother so different. +Her mother worked for Mr. Morse and so she could never +bring her friends to their rooms lest she should annoy +the Morses. Other girls’ mothers had pretty faces and +her mother’s face was all red and cross-looking. Other +girls’ mothers had pretty hair, but her mother had straight +hair and little of it. She had tried to get her to wear +false hair, but instead of doing it her mother had gone to +her room and cried because Mary had suggested it. Other +girls’ mothers let them wear pretty clothes, but hers were +always plain, though they were always very neat. Most +of the girls had fancy graduation dresses, but hers was +only a little dimity that her mother had made—and now +these dreadful beads were more than she could stand and +she threw them on the bed in anger. She wished she had +a real mother of whom she could be proud.</p> +<p>As she started to take down her long, wavy hair, she +saw a letter in Mr. Morse’s handwriting on her desk. +Perhaps this was a check for her graduation present, so +she hastily tore it open. But no check dropped out. Instead, +there was a long letter, and she sat down to read.</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<p>“My dear Mary,” it began. “A few days ago, I +chanced to be on the beach when you were there with your +friend, and I heard you say to her, ‘I wish my mother +were as beautiful as yours. Mother can’t even go down +the street with me for she drags her foot so that everybody +turns and looks at us and it makes me feel so conspicuous. +You must be very proud of your mother.’ So +I have decided that for your graduation gift, I shall give +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +you a story instead of the check that I intended to give +you. The check can wait.”</p> +</div> +<p>“A story,” said Mary to herself. “That is worse than +the old beads. What a house of queer people this is! +Anyway, I am curious to see what sort of a story he +could write.” So she read on.</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<p>“Seventeen years ago there came to a town in the +eastern part of Pennsylvania a young man and his bride. +Just a slip of a girl she was, but her face was full of +sunshine and every one soon loved her. She had beautiful +wavy hair and bright, blue eyes and a cheery smile. +After they had been there for a while, their story came to +be known, for his father was the great mill owner in a +near-by town. When the young man had married the +High School girl instead of the wealthy one whom the +father had chosen for him, there had been a lot of trouble +and the young man had been told to leave home with his +bride and expect no more help from the father.</p> +<p>“Now the young man had never worked, so it was very +hard for him, but she also worked and, little by little, they +bought the things needed in the tiny home on the hill, +and they were very happy. Then, one day, a scaffold +fell and they brought the young husband to the little wife +all bruised and bleeding, and that very night a tiny girl +came to the home to live. The neighbors helped all they +could, but in a few days the father of the baby was gone, +and the little girl-wife was left alone to care for the +baby.</p> +<p>“When the mill owner heard of the death of the son +and the birth of the little girl, he sent to the mother and +said: ‘We will take the little girl and bring it up as our +own if you will give it to us and have no more to do with +it.’ But the brave little woman sent back answer, ‘As +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +long as I have a mind with which to think and two hands +with which to work, I can and will support my little girl. +I thank you for your offer, but I love my baby too much +to accept it.’</p> +<p>“But it was a hard pull. She worked in an office; she +worked on a farm. Then a position was offered her as a +teacher in a Home for Little Children. Here she could +have her own room and keep the baby with her when +she was not teaching. And while she was teaching, it +would be cared for with the rest. Gladly the mother took +the position and for more than a year she was very, very +happy.</p> +<p>“One night when the baby was nearly three years old, +she sat reading in the parlor of the home when some one +called, ‘Fire! Fire! Fire in the left wing!’ Oh! that +was where her baby was, on the very top floor. Like a +bird she flew across the hall where the smoke already was +pouring out. Up the first flight, choking, she went. Up +the second. Then she had to fall to the floor to creep +along. She could see the fire. It was on the fourth floor +where her Mary was. Could she ever reach it? Would +the fire block her way?</p> +<p>“Ten minutes after the call of fire had been given, the +workers saw some one staggering through the lower hall. +In her arms she carried a bundle wrapped tightly in a bed-quilt. +And dangling from her hands was a long string of +beads. Her face was burned. There was no hair on her +head. She was writhing in agony, but she reached the +door, handed the burden to a worker, saying quietly, ‘I +am badly burned, but I have saved my two treasures. +Keep them safely for me.’ Then she fell in a heap on the +floor.</p> +<p>“For months and months and months she tossed on a +bed of pain. No one thought she could possibly live. +But she did, for she was living for her baby. When at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +last she came from the hospital, her beautiful face was +scarred and red; only in spots had the hair grown; her +hands were stiff and painful, and one leg dragged as she +walked. But she was alive, and that was all she asked.</p> +<p>“While she had been ill, I had gone to see the mill +owner to ask for help for the brave little woman who had +shown us all what a heroine she was. But his answer +had been, ‘She took my son from me and I will have +nothing to do with her. If she will give the child to me, +I will bring it up in luxury, but I will not have her here.’</p> +<p>“So when she was ready to go back to work, I told her +that another offer had come from the grandfather of the +child to adopt it and I said to her, ‘Don’t you feel that +you had better give them the baby?’</p> +<p>“For answer, she patted the curly head and said, ‘If I +can fight death for my baby, I can conquer in the fight +to live. I shall keep her. You may tell him that the child +will not live in luxury but that she shall know no want, +and she shall have both the education and culture which +befits her father’s child.’</p> +<p>“But the mother’s heart was sore when she looked in +the glass and saw what a pitiful change had come to the +pretty face. ‘I am so glad it came while Mary was little,’ +she said. ‘Had it come later, she would have minded +my ugly face. Now she knows no better and she will +grow used to it.’</p> +<p>“So she was glad when I offered to have her come to +live with us in the distant city where none had known +of her or of the awful fight she was planning to make. +We had taken a large house and there were many things +the mother could do with her stiff hands which gradually, +because of the long hours she spent on them, were +beginning to limber a bit. I gave her rooms for herself +and the child and there she lived, keeping away from all +so that none might see her shrunken, changed body. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +lived only for the child, hoarding carefully the little money +that she could save lest there be not enough to send her +to college when the High School should be over.</p> +<p>“Often have I heard her praying for strength to fight +through the battle; often have I heard her pray that the +little girl should grow to be an honor to the family who +would not help her; often have I begged her to let me tell +the child the story of the days that had gone, but her +answer was always the same, ‘No. Let her live the happy, +care-free life. Some day I will tell her, but not now. It +would kill me to have her pity me. She must love me for +myself and not for what I did. My only happiness is to +live and work for her.’</p> +<p>“So the heroine has spent the fifteen years and to my +way of thinking she is a mother of whom you may be +proud.</p> +<p>“She must never know I have told you. But not for +the world would I have you add to her burden by thinking +she was not all that you wanted your mother to +be.</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p style=' margin-right:6em;'>“Sincerely,</p> +<p>“<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A. E. Morse.</span>”</p> +</div> + +</div> +<p>When Mary had finished the letter, she sat as one +stunned. Her mind seemed on fire. Mechanically she +picked up the pearls that she had thrown on the bed. Her +mother had carried them with her through that awful fire. +They were one of her two treasures and now she had +almost said she would not wear them. Oh, what a selfish +girl she had been! She had thought only of herself.</p> +<p>Once she had asked her mother why the scar was upon +her face and she had answered, “Just an accident, child, +when I was a young woman.” Then she had talked of +something else. The lame foot, the misshapen hands, +the red face, the queer little knot of hair—all were the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +price paid for her own life. Every minute since she was +born, she had been a burden to her mother.</p> +<p>Now she understood why the little bank account which +she had accidentally found was being so carefully saved. +She had not known that she was to go to college.</p> +<p>Now she remembered that it had been years since +mother had had a new dress, but she had thought it was +because she was queer. There had been many days when +mother had seemed cross—was it because she was suffering? +Oh, how sorry she was! What could she do to +make her happy now that she knew?</p> +<p>Slowly she undressed for bed. She must be in the +dark to think. When she knelt in prayer, she asked God +to forgive her—but she remembered that she could not +ask mother to do so. She remembered the words of her +mother to Mr. Morse,</p> +<p>“It would kill me to have her sorry for me. She must +love me for myself and not for what I did.”</p> +<p>So she tossed and tumbled as the time slipped by. +Suddenly she heard a foot dragging across the hall, and +a big lump came into her throat. How often she had +rebelled at that foot! Then her mother came quietly +into the room.</p> +<p>“Mother,” said Mary, “why are you here? Aren’t +you asleep yet?”</p> +<p>“No, dear,” said the mother, and the girl thought she +had never heard a more beautiful voice. “I heard you +tossing in the bed and I thought perhaps you were ill. So +I came to see. What is the trouble, dear?”</p> +<p>“Oh, to-morrow is my graduation day and I think I +am sorry to leave school,” said the girl. “I love these +dear little beads which I have under the pillow, mother. +Have you had them long? I never saw them before.”</p> +<p>“Many, many years, girlie. Your father gave them +to me and how hard he worked to earn them! I love +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +every little bead on the string. But I shall love to see +you wear them for his sake. I saved them for you once +in the long ago because I wanted you to have something +that he had earned for us. And now you must go to +sleep, for you must look bright and pretty to-morrow. +Oh! I shall be so proud of you when you start for the +school.”</p> +<p>Then a white arm drew the mother down close to the +bed and a sweet girlish voice said,</p> +<p>“Be all ready when the carriage comes for me to-morrow, +mother dear, for you are going with me, even +though it is early. No other girl has a mother who has +worked so hard as you have to keep her in school. You +are the best mother in the whole world and I am so proud +of you.”</p> +<p>“Well, if you are as proud of me as I am of you, we +are the happiest little family in the whole world,” said +the mother, kissing her on both cheeks. And two people +were happy because real love was there.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='THE_FIR_TREE_AND_THE_WILLOW_WAND' id='THE_FIR_TREE_AND_THE_WILLOW_WAND'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +<h2>THE FIR TREE AND THE WILLOW WAND<a name="FNanchor_B" id="FNanchor_B"></a><a href="#Footnote_B" class="fnanchor"><span style='font-size:0.8em'>[B]</span></a></h2> +</div> + +<p>All this happened years ago when the red men lived +along the lake shores and hunted in the woods. The +Indians still tell the tale and shake their heads sadly, +whether because of the sadness of the story or because +they sigh for the old days, I do not know.</p> +<p>Willow Wand was the daughter of old Chief Seafog. +She was not like the other girls of the tribe. She was +straight and lithe like a willow, and she looked more like +a beautiful boy than she did like an Indian maiden. This +is not strange when you think that she wore the leather +leggins and the short jacket of the Indian boy and carried +a bow and quiver of arrows thrown over her shoulder. +And in spite of the fact that she shot a straighter arrow +than most of the lads about her, they all loved her, for +she would run with them and hunt with them, and at +night, by the fire, she would tell them strange and beautiful +stories. In her face they saw a light that they did +not see in the faces of the other girls and squaws of the +village, for Willow Wand had a secret which made her +full of mysteries.</p> +<p>As Willow Wand grew taller, the time came when +she thought of wedding. Young Fir Tree, the most daring +of the young braves, loved her, and Willow Wand +knew that she loved him. And when Fir Tree went to +old Chief Seafog, Willow Wand went with him, which +made it not difficult for them to receive the old man’s +blessing. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span></p> +<p>So on one brilliant day in Indian summer, Fir Tree +and Willow Wand were married. The fallen leaves +danced at their wedding feast and the blue mists of autumn +were the bridal veil. Every one was as happy as +an Indian could be. And in the starlight, Fir Tree took +Willow Wand to his tepee. He brought a great buffalo +robe from the tent and spread it on the hillside, and they +sat down close together and looked up at the stars.</p> +<p>“I love you, my brave Fir Tree,” said Willow Wand.</p> +<p>Fir Tree put his arm about her. “And I love you, my +little Willow Wand,” he said. “You are the most beautiful +woman in the world. I would not have you like the +rest. They are good; they grind the corn; they do the +work, but their faces are like stones. Yours is full of +secrets and lovely memories. What makes you so different, +my love?”</p> +<p>“My secret, Fir Tree. My father says that a woman’s +secret is her beauty.”</p> +<p>“But a woman must tell her secret to her love,” and +Fir Tree looked off into the distance.</p> +<p>“Willow Wand must not tell her secret even to her +love,” she said very, very softly.</p> +<p>“You cannot trust me nor love me then, Willow +Wand,” said Fir Tree, growing stiff and cold.</p> +<p>“I love you, Fir Tree. I will tell you my secret.”</p> +<p>Fir Tree continued to look off in the darkness, but he +bent his head a little so that he might not miss anything +she said.</p> +<p>“One night, long ago, I sat out in the evening like this +with my father. ‘Father, I want to shoot your bow, your +smallest bow,’ I said. ‘You haven’t the strength to draw +it, even my smallest bow, little Willow Wand,’ he said. +‘Oh, but I have. I have tried it,’ and I ran into the tent +and brought the little bow with the red bear painted on +it. ‘See, I shall shoot that star, the red one there.’ I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +pulled the string and the arrow was off. We waited to +hear it fall. ‘It takes a long time to reach the stars,’ I +said. Just then there was a splash in the jar by the +tepee door. ‘There it is,’ said my father, ‘your star has +fallen into the rain jar.’</p> +<p>“I looked, and, sure enough, there was the little red +star, lying on the bottom of the crock, and shining so +brightly that we could see it through the water. ‘My +star!’ I said. ‘We shall always keep it here, my father. +I brought it down with my arrow.’</p> +<p>“The next day my father took me hunting, and he gave +orders that that jar was never to be moved from beside his +door until I should leave him, and then it was to go with +me. And always he has kept fresh water from the spring +in the jar. See, he has brought it up here beside your +tepee that it would be waiting for me. Yes, my Fir Tree, +see, here is my own star still shining brightly—more +brightly to-night because of my great happiness with you.”</p> +<p>“Dear little Willow Wand, what a beautiful child you +are,” said Fir Tree, and he brushed back her black hair +and looked into her eyes. “Don’t you know that the star +in the crock is only a reflection of a real star above your +dear head in the sky? No one can really shoot a star, +Willow Wand.”</p> +<p>“But of course it is a real star, Fir Tree; we heard it +splash as it fell into the jar, my father and I. And I +see it now; it has always been here since that night. You +are mistaken, Fir Tree.”</p> +<p>Fir Tree rose and lifted up the jar, and, tipping the +water out, said, “See, I shall show you that Fir Tree is +never mistaken. I shall empty the crock. See, there is +no star left in the jar, nor has any red star tumbled out +with the water onto the grass. Ah, your secret was very +beautiful, little Willow Wand, but now you know the +truth. The truth, too, is beautiful.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span></p> +<p>There was a little moan of anguish, and Willow +Wand disappeared into the darkness.</p> +<p>The next morning a tall squaw came out of Fir Tree’s +tepee. She picked up the empty rain jar and with tired +footsteps walked down to the spring for water. She was +dressed in the conventional clothing of her tribe, and her +face was dull and expressionless like the stones on the +path over which she walked. Down the long trail to the +spring she walked. It was very, very early, so the moon +still shone and the little stars twinkled in the sky. Often +she looked at them, longing for her little red star.</p> +<p>Slowly she stooped, filled the jar, and lifted it to place +it on her head when suddenly she stopped, looked—then +gave a cry of surprise and delight, for there, shining clear +as crystal in the water of the pail, was the little red +star.</p> +<p>Willow Wand set the jar carefully on the ground and +then knelt long beside it. How she loved the little red +star! How happy she was to have it once more beside +her! And as she looked, the tired look left her face and +a smile of joy and peace took its place.</p> +<p>Picking up the jar, she looked once more into the clear +cold water. Then she said,</p> +<p>“Come, little star. Come with me to the wigwam of +brave, strong Fir Tree. Together we will make it the +happiest wigwam in the encampment. You shall still help +me to be my best, for I shall still have a star.”</p> + +<hr style='width: 10%; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both; margin: 2em auto 1em 0' /> + +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_B' id='Footnote_B'></a><a href='#FNanchor_B'><span class='label'>[B]</span></a> +<p style='font-size: small'> Reprinted from the <i>Camp Fire Girls’ Magazine</i> by permission. Revised by permission of the author.</p></div> + +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='THE_TWO_SEARCHERS' id='THE_TWO_SEARCHERS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +<h2>THE TWO SEARCHERS</h2> +</div> + +<p>Peter was tired of doing the same thing over and over +and he wanted a change. Ever since he could remember +he had fished and sold the fish he had caught. +He had made nets and mended them. First he had done +it for his father, and now he owned the boats and nets and +fishing implements. But he stood on that bright summer +day close by the beautiful Lake of Gennesaret in Galilee, +wishing over and over that he could do something that +was more worth while.</p> +<p>There was a reason why Peter was more discouraged +than ever on this morning. He had fished all through the +night before in the hope of getting a good catch so that +he might skip a day’s work and go to hear the great +teacher about whom men were talking and whom Andrew, +his brother, had seen. But though he had worked hard, +not a fish had he caught. So now he was mending the +holes in the net with a very discontented look on his face. +What was the use of it all, anyway? He twisted the +rope this way and that, showing by the pulls that he +made that his mind was full of trouble.</p> +<p>Suddenly he heard Andrew talking to him. “Peter,” +he said. “Peter, see the crowd coming over the hilltop. +Perhaps the teacher is coming. I do hope so, for I would +hear more of the words he was telling us yesterday. +Come, let’s go and meet him.”</p> +<p>“No,” said Peter, “I must finish this net. What will +he care for us? We are only poor fishermen.”</p> +<p>But Andrew had not waited to hear his answer—he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +had already begun to ascend the hill. How eager he was +to hear another story from the great story-teller!</p> +<p>Peter mended one hole after another, keeping his eye +on the crowd that was coming closer and closer to the +lakeside. Then he heard a kindly voice say, “Would +you mind letting me take your boat, for the multitude +press upon me and I have many things to say to them. +If I can get away from the shore, they can all hear and +understand.”</p> +<p>Silently Peter brought the fishing boat to shore. The +Master wanted to use something that he had. After all, +a fishing boat was useful sometimes, even if he were tired +of it. Of course he would be glad to help him. So Jesus, +the teacher, sat in the end of the boat and Peter rowed +him out in front of the crowd. Then Peter sat and listened +and looked.</p> +<p>What a wonderful face the teacher had! Peter had +never seen the like. It was browned by the sun but in +the eyes there was a kindly light that made Peter love +to look at him. When he smiled, somehow Peter felt the +smile go all through him. How gentle his voice was! +What made it so? How eagerly the people were listening, +yet he was only telling them a little story about the love +of his father, God.</p> +<p>“I wish I had a face like that and a voice like that and +could teach like that,” thought Peter. “But I am only a +poor fisherman. Oh dear, I wish I could be worth something.”</p> +<p>But Jesus had finished teaching and had bidden the +people go to their homes. Peter turned to row to the +shore, but Jesus was not ready for that. He had been +teaching the multitude and now he wanted a chance to +talk with Peter and Andrew. So he said to Peter,</p> +<p>“Launch out into the deep and let us fish for a while.”</p> +<p>Peter thought of the long night of useless toil, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +Jesus had asked him to go. This was a chance to stay +longer with the teacher, so he said to him frankly,</p> +<p>“Master, we have toiled all night and caught nothing. +Nevertheless, at your word, I will let down the net.”</p> +<p>So together the brothers let down the net and Peter +began to row.</p> +<p>This was a good chance for Jesus to study Peter. How +strong and weatherbeaten he looked! His was a good +honest face, and Jesus saw there determination and +courage and trustworthiness. Jesus was searching for +men who could be trusted to carry in their minds and +lives the most precious thing he had—his message to the +world—so as he rowed out into the fishing grounds of +Lake Gennesaret that day, he was searching Peter’s face. +It would take courage, for some of his followers would +even have to die for him. It would take determination, +for there would be many things against them. Yes, Jesus +liked Peter as he watched him and talked to him. Peter +was one of the men for whom he was searching.</p> +<p>Suddenly the net was full of fishes—so full that Peter +and Andrew could not manage it. Quickly they called +to their partners, James and John, to come and help them. +And when Peter saw the multitude of fishes that were in +the net, he was overpowered with the greatness of the +man who had helped them. Quickly he fell on his knees +before the Christ and said, “Depart from me, O Lord, +for I am a sinful man.”</p> +<p>Then Jesus turned to Peter and with a whole world of +meaning said,</p> +<p>“Peter, it is a great multitude of fishes that you have +caught, but you can do greater things than that. You +can do far greater things than catch fish from the water. +If you will come with me, I will teach you how to catch +men and you shall be my worker. I need you, Peter. +Will you come?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span></p> +<p>Would he come? Peter, who had been longing to make +his life worth while; Peter, who had been longing to +know what it was that made Jesus so wonderful as he +went among men. Would he go and let Jesus teach him? +Would he be a follower of the Master and go out in the +big world to help win men?</p> +<p>A great happiness filled the mind of Peter and when he +lifted his face to the Christ, the answer to the question of +the Teacher was written on it.</p> +<p>So Jesus found a helper and Peter found a task that +was worth while.</p> +<p>“And when he had brought his boat to land, he gladly +forsook all and followed Christ.” So well did he follow +that we read in the Book of Acts that after Peter had +talked to the multitude on the day of Pentecost, there were +added to the church, at one time, three thousand persons +who believed the word that he had spoken to them.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='WHY_ELIZABETH_WAS_CHOSEN' id='WHY_ELIZABETH_WAS_CHOSEN'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +<h2>WHY ELIZABETH WAS CHOSEN</h2> +</div> + +<p>The Triangle Club of Center High School were all +busily engaged in choosing the girls whom they +should invite to go to the house party which Mrs. Warren +was giving them. Mrs. Warren had a cottage on a +lake, fifteen miles from the city, and she had written to +the club saying that she wanted them all to spend a week +with George, her son, there in the camp. And better +still, she was ready to invite any ten girls whom they +might choose. Mrs. Warren was the wife of the minister, +so all the boys knew that the mothers of the girls would +be glad to have them spend a week with her at the dear +little camp in the pines, about which they had heard so +much.</p> +<p>One by one they had chosen the girls, each boy having +a choice, and now all that was left to be done was for +Carl Green, their president, to choose. But Carl was in +an examination, so they must wait for him.</p> +<p>“I think he will choose Charlotte Morey,” said one. +“She is so pretty and Carl has taken her to several dances +this winter.”</p> +<p>“Not a bit of it,” said another. “He will ask +Helen Keats, for she makes such good marks in school +that he is glad to be seen out with her. She is fine company +and I hope he asks her.”</p> +<p>“I think he will ask his sister, Jane. Carl is always +thinking of her and if she is at home, he will ask her +first, I am sure,” said a third.</p> +<p>While they were talking, they saw the boy coming +across the lawn in front of the school. Every boy smiled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +and eagerly leaned forward to greet him, for Carl Green +was easily their hero. He could lead in sports of all +kinds, he was cheery and patient, he was a good student +in school—he was an all-round boy and what he did +was right in the eyes of the boys.</p> +<p>“Come on, Carl,” they called. “Here is a letter from +Mrs. Warren telling us we can invite the girls up for +the house party. Isn’t she a dear to think of it? We +have chosen part of the girls and here is our list, but +you still have a choice. Of course we know whom you +will choose, but we thought we had better let you write +the name. Come on! Hurry up.”</p> +<p>Carl took the list and looked carefully through it. +Then he said,</p> +<p>“That will be a fine party, fellows. I like that list. Let +me see. That is the last week in June, so Jane will be +away. I’m sorry, for I should have liked to have given +her the fun. Well, as long as she can’t go, I should like +to ask Elizabeth Wyman to go with us.”</p> +<p>A chorus of boys’ voices sounded as soon as the name +was spoken.</p> +<p>“Elizabeth Wyman! Why do you want her? She +doesn’t go with our set. She refused to go to the dance +at the beach with us, though the whole club was going. +Said she didn’t like the movie we were going to see. She +wouldn’t vote for the Sunday picnic that we wanted. +Oh, Carl, you don’t want her. She would spoil our fun. +Choose another.”</p> +<p>Carl let the boys talk all they chose and then he said,</p> +<p>“Fellows, if you insist, I will choose another, but I +should prefer to take Elizabeth. I’ll be frank with you, +I’m going to go with her if she will let me and this would +be a fine opportunity to get to know her.”</p> +<p>“If she will let you—that is a joke. As if any girl +would not let you,” said John. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span></p> +<p>“No,” said Carl, “I mean what I say. I am going to +be her friend if she will let me. And I’ll tell you why—though +I am not sure that she would want me to do it. +Still she told me the story in a very frank way, so I don’t +think she would mind. At least I hope not. But I want +you to know her in the way I do, for if she is my friend +you will be often with her. After I tell you, you will +understand why I say, ‘If she will let me.’”</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<p>“It was the night of the snowstorm and I was coming +up the street when I caught up with her. It was very +cold and she was snuggling into a beautiful little neckpiece +of ermine. I am fond of furs and so I said to her,</p> +<p>“‘I like the little ermine that you have about your +neck. It is so simple, yet so beautiful. It is very different +from the large ones that most people wear these +days.’</p> +<p>“‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I like it too. Uncle sent it to me this +winter and I love it because of the story he told me about +the little animal whose fur it is.’</p> +<p>“‘Tell me the story,’ I said.</p> +<p>“But she smiled and patted the fur as she said, ‘I don’t +think I could, for it is very personal. It was a message +from Uncle to me, so it means much to me. To you, it +might not mean anything.’</p> +<p>“‘But I should like to hear it,’ I said. ‘Please tell it +to me.’</p> +<p>“‘Well,’ said Elizabeth, ‘Uncle seems very queer to +mother because he wants a message to go with every gift, +but I like it. When this came, his letter said:</p> +<p>“‘“Girlie: I wonder if you wouldn’t like to wear this +bit of ermine. When the ermine is pursued by a larger +animal and it comes to a puddle of mud, it will die before +it will soil its coat. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you +and all the girls who are your friends would be as careful +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +of your characters and never, no never, do that which +would soil them?”’</p> +<p>“We walked part of a block before we spoke after she +had told me of the gift, and then she said, ‘I am sure +that the girls at school sometimes think me very particular +because I will not do some of the things that they do. +Perhaps they are all right for them but I feel that they +would soil my coat, so I do not do them. I am trying to +keep it white and this little bit of ermine helps a lot. Of +course, I like to wear it, but it would be very uncomfortable +if I did not try. I hope you don’t think me foolish, +now that you know the story of the fur.’”</p> +</div> +<p>There was silence as Carl finished speaking. Then Carl +Green threw back the long locks from his forehead as +he said,</p> +<p>“I know a good thing when I see it, fellows, and the +girl who would die rather than soil her character is a +mighty good friend for a boy to have. She is worth asking +to our house party. I’m thinking she is worth winning +for a friend. Good-by, I am going to ask her before +any of you change the name on your list.”</p> +<p>So Elizabeth Wyman went to the house party at Mrs. +Warren’s, and to this day she wonders why the boys +seemed so different from what they had seemed before. +But because she knew no difference, she was sure that it +must have been because she was invited by Carl Green, +the leader of the Triangle Club of Center High School. +But you and I know better.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='JANIE_S_SCHOOL_DAYS' id='JANIE_S_SCHOOL_DAYS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +<h2>JANIE’S SCHOOL DAYS</h2> +</div> + +<p>Janie was sixteen years old, but she looked as though +she might be only thirteen as she sat on the front +seat of the little schoolhouse far up on the mountainside +of Kentucky. Her black hair was plastered tightly to +her head. Her calico dress was much too long and the +sleeves were much too short. Mother had made it long +so that she might wear it for several years, while the +sleeves were short so that she might have no excuse for +not getting her hands in the dish water. Her bare feet +were very dirty but her face shone from its recent scrubbing.</p> +<p>This was a great day for Janie, for the missionary had +once again come to the schoolhouse. It had been three +years since she was there before, and all that time Janie +had waited for her. So she had hurried with her work +in order that she might sit on the very front seat and +hear every word. Last time she had told much about +the school many miles away and Janie had said over and +over to herself, “I shall go there; I shall go there.” But +of course it was foolish to say so, for there wasn’t any +chance that she ever could go. Why, there were seven +brothers and sisters younger than she, and she had to +work all day long to help to get them enough to eat. She +could never go.</p> +<p>But she listened eagerly as the missionary told of all +that was being done in the little schoolhouses all about +the mountains and of the need of teachers to do the +work.</p> +<p>“We like best to take a boy or girl from some hamlet +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +and let them work with us for several years and then +send them back to their own homes to serve there. I am +wondering if there isn’t a girl here who would like to be +the teacher here and help to make Round Creek what it +ought to be. If there is such a one, send them to us and +we will do our best. If you will pay $10 a term, we will +do the rest.”</p> +<p>Janie’s little body was leaning far forward and her +eyes were big with excitement. She knew a girl that +would like to go. But $10 a term! Why, one dollar +seemed big in their home. So she crept out into the darkness +of the night without saying a word to any one about +her great, big longing. But up in the loft of the log house +she lay long after the rest went to sleep trying to think +of a way. Auntie was coming to stay with them in the +fall. If she could just get the ten dollars by that time, +maybe she could be spared for a term. That would help +a little, anyway.</p> +<p>In the morning she loosened one of the boards of the +woodshed. Beneath it she placed a little tin can, and in +the can she put the five pennies that she owned. It was +berry time and she thought she knew of a way to earn +some money that should be all her own. Near the mill, +there were beautiful pieces of bark. In the woods there +were many rare ferns. She would make some little +baskets like she had made many times for the home, fill +them with ferns and try to sell them when she went into +the town with the berries. It meant getting up at four +instead of five, but she could do that. It meant getting +the ferns when the rest of the children were playing at +lunch time—but that wasn’t hard. And after her first +day in town she had fifty cents to put into the cup. Oh, +how rich she felt!</p> +<p>An extra quart of berries here and there, some flowers +sold from her little garden patch on the hill, two little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +kittens sold instead of being drowned—and so the money +in the cup grew very, very slowly and no one dreamed it +was there. But her dream grew with the contents of the +cup. She could see herself all dressed in a neat dress +going up the hill to the school and the little children following +her and calling her teacher.</p> +<p>But in August, George fell from the hay-mow and for +days he lay there white and still. Mother had done all +she could and there was no money to send for the doctor. +Then it was that a little black-haired girl went out in the +shed and for the first time counted the money in the cup—one, +two, three, four, five, six, almost seven dollars. +Long she looked at it. Then she went into town to do +the errand for her mother and five of the precious dollars +were counted into the hands of the doctor with the repeated +statement,</p> +<p>“Tell mother that you happened to be going by and +just stopped, so all she needs to pay you is a dollar, for +she has that.”</p> +<p>So mother never knew, nor did the sick boy know, of +the sacrifice the girl had made. Auntie came and went, +and because it was winter the money in the cup hardly +increased one bit. Sometimes she was almost discouraged, +but then she would say to herself,</p> +<p>“Why, it took years and years for Abraham Lincoln +to get to the White House. It doesn’t matter if it takes +twenty years. I am going to get to that schoolhouse. I +will be a teacher.”</p> +<p>She could crochet and she could embroider, so these +helped a bit. She planted more things in her own garden +and the money from these was her own. So again as the +summer drew to a close, she knew there must be several +dollars in the cup—but she daren’t count it, for if it +should be ten and still she couldn’t go—oh, that would be +worse than all! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span></p> +<p>It was five days before school was to open that there +came a letter from grandmother saying that she was +coming to stay for the winter, and while mother was +happy over this, Janie asked if she might not be spared +to go to school. At first there was a firm “No” for an +answer. But she begged so hard to be allowed to go for +only one term that she saw signs of relenting in her +mother’s face. Then she ran to get the cup—and in it +was nearly nine dollars.</p> +<p>Where should she get the rest? Mother had none—yet +she must have it. There was only one way. She could +sell Biddy, her pet hen whom she loved so much. She +would ask her brother to take her in the morning, for +she could never do it herself. So with tears in her eyes, +she patted her pet and put it into a box ready for the +morning. Oh! ten dollars was such a lot of money for +a little girl to get!</p> +<p>It was thirty miles to the school, so she had only one +day to get ready. But she had few clothes and so it was +an easy matter. She put them neatly in a bundle and with +a queer feeling underneath the little red dress, now too +short instead of too long, she started bright and early to +walk the thirty miles to school. Many times she turned +to look back at the little log cabin till it was hidden from +her sight by a turn in the road. Then somehow she felt +very much alone in the world.</p> +<p>On and on she walked till at last, twenty miles from +home, she came to the home of an old neighbor and rested +for the night. It was two in the afternoon of the next +day when she saw in the distance the large brick building +which she knew must be the school. She longed to run +to it but her feet were very sore and her body was very +tired. So she trudged on till she came to the office.</p> +<p>“Please, Miss, I have come to school. I can only stay +one term but I came anyway and here is the money. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +missionary lady said you would do the rest,” and she +handed her the precious money.</p> +<p>“And to whom did you write about entering?” said +the lady kindly.</p> +<p>“To nobody. You see I didn’t know I could come till +Tuesday,” said Janie.</p> +<p>“Well, I am so sorry,” said the lady, “but you see we +have all the girls we can possibly take. So we can’t have +you this term. Perhaps you could come next term if +you leave your name now.”</p> +<p>The whole world seemed to fall from under Janie’s +feet. She was here, thirty miles from home. She had +all the money—she had sold dear old Biddy—yet she +could not stay. Not a word did she answer. She just +stood and stared into space.</p> +<p>“I am very tired for I have walked thirty miles to +get here. May I stay just for to-night?” she asked, rolling +the ten dollars carefully in her big handkerchief.</p> +<p>“School doesn’t open till to-morrow but we will tuck +you in somewhere for to-night. I am so sorry for you, +but we just haven’t a bit of room after to-morrow. Sit +down on the porch and rest yourself,” said the lady.</p> +<p>She brought her a glass of milk and then left her +alone with her thoughts. How could she go home? +Perhaps there would never come a time when she could +be spared again. Was there no way in which she could +stay?</p> +<p>Ten minutes later, a little girl in a short red calico +dress went down the steps and along the street, looking +for a doctor’s sign. When she found it, she rang the +bell and asked for the doctor.</p> +<p>“Please, sir,” she said, “I thought you might know +some one who wanted a girl to work for them. I want +to go to school this term and I have earned the money +to come. And now that I am here, there is no place for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +me and I must walk the thirty miles back. But I am +willing to work. I will work for nothing if only I can +go to the school in the afternoon. Sir, I just must be a +teacher and I just must stay now and get started.”</p> +<p>The doctor whistled a little tune before he answered. +“And tell me how you earned the money to come.” Then +he whistled another tune as she talked. “Stay here to-night,” +he said. “I will find out at the school just how +much they will let you come in the afternoons. I am +sure you can find work enough, so don’t worry.”</p> +<p>And sure enough, he found a place for her and so +she started with the rest on the very first morning. She +was radiantly happy till she heard a boy say,</p> +<p>“Look at the red dress that is coming in! Better loan +her a red handkerchief to piece it down with.”</p> +<p>Then she knew that she was different from the rest. +Her shoes were coarse and rough. Her hair looked, oh, +so different. Her hands were red and big. She was +here where she had longed to come but oh, how unhappy +she was! She was almost ready to cry. Instead +she shook her head proudly and said to herself, “I will +be a teacher. What do I care if they laugh?”</p> +<p>The lessons were very hard, for her preparation was +not good; every minute that she could spare she must +spend on getting ready for the next day, so she had +little time to be lonely. But she still minded the fact +that her clothes were so very different. Many a good +cry she had in the quiet of her little room as she looked +at the red dress laid out for the coming day.</p> +<p>The term sped by and she was making good. Oh, if +she could only stay! But she had no money except the +little that the good doctor had given her now and then +for doing errands for him. She could take her books +home and perhaps she could do it all by herself.</p> +<p>So she waited till almost the last day before she told +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +the woman for whom she worked that she was leaving.</p> +<p>“Why, girlie,” she answered, “you have much more +than ten dollars coming from me. I have never paid you +because the doctor told me you would ask for it if you +needed it. I will give it to you and then you can go and +pay your ten dollars. I wouldn’t have you go home +for anything.”</p> +<p>Clasping her precious money in her hand, she flew up +the stairs. Here was a letter from her brother also. +What a happy day! Eagerly she opened it and read,</p> +<p>“Mother is counting on your coming home for we +need your help badly. The cow has died and we are +without milk till we can get another. Mother thinks she +must spare you at home and let you work out to earn +money.”</p> +<p>Oh! Oh! She was needed! She must take the +money she had earned to help to buy a cow and again +she must forget school. So she went again to her mistress, +told her story and began to prepare for the long +walk. She went to the school, borrowed the books, and +promised them she would surely come again. Then she +went again to the old doctor who had been so kind to +her.</p> +<p>He listened thoughtfully as she told him of her new +plans which still had not changed her vision of being a +teacher.</p> +<p>“I will come back, even though it be after four or five +years. I will come,” she said, and she rose to go.</p> +<p>Then the doctor turned to his desk and took from it +the picture of a girl.</p> +<p>“That was my little girl,” he said. “She, too, wanted +to be a teacher and she was in this very school when +sickness and death came. When you came to me that +first morning and said, ‘I just must be a teacher,’ I could +hear her say to me, ‘Help her.’ So I did what you asked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +me to do—got you a place to work for nothing though +I knew you were to be paid. I have watched you work, +I have watched you suffer because of the red dress; I +have watched you try to do your duty at the sacrifice of +yourself. And now that you have done all that you can, +I am ready to do the rest. Send the money that you have +earned to your mother to help to buy the cow. Come +to live here and be my office girl. The money that you +earn can go to your mother for I will do for you what +I would have done for her and I will do it for her sake +and because you have shown me that you are worth +while. You <i>shall</i> be a teacher.”</p> +<p>So Janie lived in the home of her new friend. There +was help on her lessons, the old red dress went back to +the little home in the hills to be worn by some one whom +it would fit and in her new, pretty things she could see +more plainly—Janie, the teacher.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='SELFMADE_MEN' id='SELFMADE_MEN'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +<h2>SELF-MADE MEN</h2> +</div> + +<p>The banqueting hall of Hotel Northland was crowded +to its limit. There were noted men and women from +all walks of life. There were many from humble homes. +There were those whose beautiful dresses showed that +money meant little to them; there were others to whom +the price of the banquet ticket had meant sacrifice. It +was a merry company that awaited the coming of the +guests of the evening.</p> +<p>Cheer after cheer arose when the tall, fine-looking +young man took his seat near the center of the guest’s +table. He was the newly elected mayor of the city—the +youngest mayor they had ever had. He had risen +from the ranks and many of the humbler folk knew +him well as a boy. Oh, how proud they were of him!</p> +<p>Then again the cheers sounded as an old white-haired +lady entered and was placed at the left of the mayor. +She it was who had given them their college, their library, +their playground. For years and years she had +been living away from the town, but still she loved them +all and gave of her wealth to make them happy. Her +friends were many in the great banqueting hall.</p> +<p>The supper was served and the tables cleared and +then the mayor rose to speak. He told of his boyhood, +of his struggles at school and college, of his eagerness +to enter the political field, of his happiness at his recent +election.</p> +<p>“I believe that every man is master of his own fate. +I believe in being a self-made man and I mean during +these next years when I am to serve you to make it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +possible for every boy to push his way to a career. One +can make himself what he will if only he has grit and +courage. I am here to serve you all,” he said.</p> +<p>Not once during the address had the eyes of the little, +white-haired lady been taken from the speaker. She +seemed studying him rather than his address. So intent +was she that she hardly heard the toastmaster introducing +her as the friend whom all delighted to honor. +Dreamily she arose and said,</p> +<p>“Years and years ago, in this very town there lived a +teacher who had ten bright, happy girls in a club. For +four years they had played and worked together and they +loved each other dearly. Then the husband of the +teacher was taken ill and it became necessary for the +teacher to go to another continent to live.</p> +<p>“How hard it was for the girls to have her go! But +it was harder still for her, for she had wanted to help them +through to womanhood. She had tried to help them to +see the best but often she had felt that her efforts were +all too small. The day came nearer for her to leave and +she had asked the girls to spend the last evening with +her in her home.</p> +<p>“And they came, each bringing in their hands a little +letter, sealed tightly. They were steamer letters for their +teacher and they had been written because they had +heard her say that she wished she could take with her +some idea as to what the girls wanted to be when they +had grown, so that she might be thinking of their plans, +even though she could not be there to help with them. +One by one they laid them on the table till there were +ten little letters—heart-to-heart letters to their dear +friend.</p> +<p>“Five days later, away out in mid-ocean, the teacher +opened the letters and read them over and over to herself. +How much they told of the girls!</p> +<p>“Jennie wanted to be a great singer; she wanted to go +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +to New York and study and then go into Grand Opera.</p> +<p>“Katherine wanted to be a Kindergarten teacher. Ah! +she had found that because of helping in the church.</p> +<p>“Mary wanted to be a lawyer—a criminal lawyer. +Perhaps that desire had grown in their debating club.</p> +<p>“Louise wanted to be a nurse. What a dear faithful +girl she had been in helping with the bandages after the +great fire in the city!</p> +<p>“So one by one she read their letters and her heart was +filled with gratitude that to her it had been given to mold +in a little way their lives.”</p> +<p>Then turning to the mayor of the city, the little white-haired +lady said,</p> +<p>“Sir, the contents of one of those letters will be of +interest to you more than to the rest. I was the teacher +of those girls, so I can give you the exact wording of the +last letter that I read,</p> +<p>“‘Dear friend: You have asked us to give you our +dearest wish. I have many wishes for the future but +the wish that I want most of all is to be a fine woman +and some day to be a real mother, the kind you have so +often told us about.’</p> +<p>“The girl who wrote that letter, sir, became your +mother. Fourteen years before you were born, your +character was being formed, your ideals were being +molded, your future was being safeguarded. I congratulate +you, sir, on being elected to the office of mayor; +but I congratulate you more for being the child of my +little girl of the long ago who at sixteen could write, ‘I +want most of all to be a fine, noble woman and some +day to be a real mother.’ To her you owe much. Inspire +the girls of the town if you plan for great men. A self-made +man needs a real mother to build the foundations +of his character. There is no other way.”</p> +<p>Then the speaker sat down and there was silence in +the banqueting hall.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='ON_THE_ROAD_TO_WOMANHOOD' id='ON_THE_ROAD_TO_WOMANHOOD'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +<h2>ON THE ROAD TO WOMANHOOD</h2> +</div> + +<p>In their hands the girls carried a scroll; on their backs +they carried a bundle, and they were five in number—five +girls with rosy cheeks and healthy bodies. But now +their cheeks were browned by the sun and their shoulders +drooped as they walked by the way.</p> +<p>For they had walked and walked and walked as the +morning had turned into noon, and now the afternoon +shadows were already falling on the way. Then as the +search seemed almost useless, they saw her—the one +for whom they had come; the one into whose hands they +wished to place their scrolls. Eagerly they watched her +as she came slowly toward them dressed in shining white—the +Angel Who Rights Things.</p> +<p>When she smiled, they found courage to speak.</p> +<p>“We have come to search for you but we thought we +should never find you,” said the oldest of the girls. +“We can never grow strong and beautiful if we carry +these heavy burdens on our backs. They are much too +large for us and we do not like them. We have come +to ask you to take them away and make us free. Lo! +we have written it all here in our scrolls.”</p> +<p>But the Fairy Who Rights Things drew back as the +five handed to her the scrolls which they carried.</p> +<p>“Take away the burdens!” said she. “Oh, no, I could +never do that. He that carrieth no burden gaineth no +strength. All must carry if they would grow.”</p> +<p>“But we do not like them. If we must have a burden, +might we not exchange them? Surely all our friends +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +do not have burdens to carry. We have watched them +and we know they have none,” said another girl.</p> +<p>“You are quite mistaken,” said the fairy. “All have +burdens to carry. But I can let you choose if you will +exchange your own. Let me see what you have brought.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said the first. “Here is mine. I have to go +to school. Now father has plenty of money and I shall +never have to work. Why should I study and do all the +hard work of the school? I hate it all and I want to +be free from it. I want to live at home and read, and +play, and do as I like.”</p> +<p>“And here is mine,” said the second, lifting it from +her back. “I have to go to church every Sunday when +I want to sleep. There is nothing there for me and I am +so tired of it. But father and mother insist that I go, +at least in the morning. I want to be free from the +church.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” said the third. “I don’t mind school and I don’t +mind going to church but I do mind having to help at +home. It is iron and sweep and wash dishes; then wash +dishes and sweep and iron. Always something to do +when I am in the house. I hate housework and I want +to be free from doing it. Mother says all girls should +help at home. But it is a big burden.”</p> +<p>“My burden is quite different from the others,” said +the fourth. “I cannot dress as I choose. I must wear +heavy clothes and low heels. I must dress my hair as +if I were old and tidy. All the girls do differently and +I want to be like them. Really my burden makes me +very unhappy. Please let me change it.”</p> +<p>Then the fairy turned to the last girl, who had been +resting her burden against a stone wall.</p> +<p>“What have you here, dear?” she said kindly. “Your +burden seems weighing you down. Let me help you +open it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span></p> +<p>“Oh dear,” said the girl, and the big tears welled up +in her eyes. “This is my home life. Nobody seems to +understand me. They scold and fret and fuss all the +time. Mother is cross and the children are always bothering +me. I want to go away from home and work for +my living and then board as the other girls do. I should +love to have a little room in a boarding-house where +the girls could come to see me. My burden grows heavier +and heavier and I am also very unhappy.”</p> +<p>“Well, well, well,” said the Fairy Who Rights Things. +“It looks as if I had a big task. All of you seem to be +unhappy, but then we are usually unhappy because we +look at ourselves instead of others. Let’s try what +these magic spectacles can do. They will show you the +burdens some of your friends carry and also show you +how they carry them.”</p> +<p>Then she fitted a pair to the eyes of each girl and they +looked at the passers-by.</p> +<p>There was Kate, who was always smiling and happy. +Her burden was almost as large as she. There was a +sick mother away back on the little farm in the country. +Kate was trying to support her and still have enough to +keep her own expenses paid. Her days were full of +work. In her room, she was sewing to make extra money. +She was very lonely, for she loved the little mother and +longed to be with her, but she must earn money. Oh! +what a pile of worries she had on every side! How +could she ever carry them? But beneath the pile as it +rested on her back they saw a little lever that was lifting +all the time—and the lever was <i>Love</i>.</p> +<p>And here was May. They had money and automobiles +and everything to make her happy. She had never +seemed to have any burden but now she was carrying a +very large one. She wanted to go to college, she wanted +to make her life worth while, but her parents wanted her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +to stay at home and play the hours away. They would +not let her go and as the months went by she longed +more and more to study and serve. Did she have a +lever to help carry hers? Indeed she did. It was right +under the burden and it was called <i>Vision</i>.</p> +<p>Then there was Tom, the baseball star. He too carried +a burden. They had never known that he had a +father. But he carried the burden of a father who drank +and drank. Oh, what a shame to take him through the +streets in such a helpless condition! Did Tom have a +lever? All looked eagerly to see and they saw <i>Ideals</i>—he +would have a spotless character and retrieve the +family name.</p> +<p>And there was Helen. Her people used profane language +and she loved the pure. They loved the world +and she loved the ideals of the church. They made fun +of her faith and tried to change it. How heavily she +was loaded, yet they had never dreamed of it when they +had seen her teaching her little class in the Church School. +But <i>Belief in God</i> was helping her to carry her load.</p> +<p>So they passed along the way before the five girls. +All were carrying something but not all were carrying +their load alike. Some smiled, and some sang as they +staggered beneath a heavy load; others groaned and +fretted with the weight of a much lighter one. Some +were not only carrying their own load but helping to +carry others.</p> +<p>“And now,” said the Angel Who Rights Things, “do +you see a load that you would prefer? If so, then I will +ask the bearer to exchange with you. Will you choose +by the size of the burden or the ease with which it is +carried?”</p> +<p>But though they searched long and diligently, they +found no load easier than their own.</p> +<p>At last one turned to the Angel and said, “We find no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +one to choose. And since we must carry a burden, will +you tell us how best we may carry these?”</p> +<p>Then the face of the Angel lighted with pleasure till +it glowed like the sun. “When one asks <i>how</i> to carry +and not <i>why</i> he must carry, already the load is lighter,” +she replied. “If you will, your school can give to you +a vision that will make your load seem very easy; your +church can give to you a love that will make you eager +to go there and learn to serve; your home cares can give +you ideals for your own little home some day; your +mother can show you how to grow into beautiful womanhood +if you will but give her a chance; your troubles +at home can give to you a sympathy that will not only +lift your own burden but help with those of others. All +these levers that you have seen helping to lift loads have +been right at your hand to help you if you would only +have given them an opportunity.</p> +<p>“How shall you bear your burdens? With a smile +on your face, and love in your heart, and any <i>lifter</i> that +you can find.”</p> +<p>Then the Angel Who Rights Things went on her way +to find others who groaned beneath their burdens because +they had never learned how to carry them.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='HER_PRAYER' id='HER_PRAYER'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +<h2>HER PRAYER</h2> +</div> + +<p>Every time the King automobile went past the little +home of Julia Lowe when Julia was there, she ran +eagerly to look into the face of the lady who sat inside. +She had such beautiful clothes; she sat so tall and stately; +she had such a wonderful smile. She was Julia Lowe’s +ideal woman.</p> +<p>Julia had gone with two other girls to ask Mrs. King +to help them with their Liberty Loans and she had not +only taken bonds but had given them flowers from the +great garden back of the house, and had invited them +to come again. Every time she saw her go by, Julia +wished she, too, might have such a sweet face and such +a heap of good things as Mrs. King had.</p> +<p>Now Julia worked in an office downtown, so, of +course she thought she had to act and to do as the other +girls in the office did. When they wore their hair very +straight, hers was straight also; but when they wore puffs, +she had to get up much earlier in the morning to force +her pretty hair into great puffs over her ears. Mother +wanted her to wear serge dresses in the office, but the +other girls wore georgette waists, so of course she had +to wear them also. Some of the girls in the neighborhood +liked to go to the library to read, so they had +formed a club for that purpose and had asked Julia to +join. But the girls in the office liked to go to dances +and picture shows, and so she must go to them also—else +how could she talk things over with them at the noon +hour, and tell them of the boys she had been with, and +the places where she had gone? Oh, yes, she just must +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +do as the girls in the office did. But in spite of it all, she +wasn’t very happy and sometimes she wished she could +run away from it all and just go back to school again as +her mother had wanted her to do.</p> +<p>When she looked at Mrs. King, somehow her beautiful +face seemed to make her want more than ever to +do better. What was there about her that made Julia +love her at a distance and yet be afraid of her when she +came near her? Julia didn’t know. But she did know +that deep in her heart she wanted to be like her and +didn’t know how. If only she had money and beautiful +things, perhaps it would be different.</p> +<p>One day when the leaves were very beautiful in their +fall colors, a dainty little note was left by the postman +for Julia and it read,</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<p>“<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dear Julia</span>:</p> +<p>“I hardly know you but I am going to ask a great +favor of you. Mr. King has been called out of town and +he is not willing to have me stay in the house all alone, +for it is very big and lonely since Mary died. I wish +very much that you would let me call for you at the +office this afternoon. Then we will go out in the country +to see the beautiful colors and have our supper at the +Country Club. Then, when we come home in the moonlight, +I should like to have you spend the night with me +here. I shall hope that you can come.</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p style=' margin-right:4em;'>“Sincerely,</p> +<p>“<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Margaret L. King</span>.”</p> +</div> + +</div> +<p>Julia was so happy as she read it that she could hardly +contain herself—to go for a ride in the wonderful car; +to eat at the Country Club; to sleep at the home of Mrs. +King—why, she had never even dared to dream of such +a thing. It was too good to be true. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span></p> +<p>Of course she must look her very best, so she asked for +an extra half hour at noon. She would wear her new +thin waist with the very low neck, for the girls had told +her that she looked “too sweet for anything” in that. +Her silk skirt was shabby but it would never do to wear +her serge, even if it were new, when she rode with Mrs. +King. As she put on the high-heeled slippers, she noticed +that they were much run over, but they would have +to do. It took her a long, long time to fix her hair just as +she wanted to have it, for one dip must just touch the next +at the right angle.</p> +<p>Finally all was ready but the extra touches to her +face. There was the rouge for which she had spent so +much money. The boss at the office had told them that +they would lose their job if they came with it on their +faces again but she must risk it this once. A little penciling +of the eyebrows, a little powder here and there, +and Julia felt very sure as she looked at herself in the +glass that she would “do.”</p> +<p>Her shoes needed brushing but she hadn’t time for +them, for, even now, she had only time to run as fast +as she could to get the car which would bring her to +the office in time. There was a button off her coat which +she had forgotten, but the coat needn’t be worn; her +fingernails needed attention, but she never cared much +about them. As long as her face, and her hair, and her +clothes were all in style, she was all right to go anywhere.</p> +<p>Promptly at five, the King car came to the door of the +factory and Julia stepped in, followed by the envious +glances of her friends in the office. What a ride it was +through the open country! Miles and miles of beauty +such as Julia had never seen. Mrs. King found so +many interesting things for her to see that all the restraint +wore away, and she found herself talking to her +friend and telling her all about her own life and pleasures. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span></p> +<p>Then Mrs. King told her a little about what she did +with her time and, to her surprise, Julia found that Mrs. +King was a very busy woman. Over and over as they +talked, Julia noticed how soft and sweet Mrs. King’s +voice was and how carefully she used the best of English. +And again, Julia found herself wishing she were like +Mrs. King. Somehow she did not care to use the slang +words that seemed so necessary when she talked with +the girls.</p> +<p>When their coats were removed at the Country Club, +Julia found that Mrs. King was very simply dressed in +a dark blue serge dress with little white collar and cuffs. +Many other girls and women in the group were dressed +in the same way. Then Julia became suddenly conscious +of the run-over heels and the torn skirt, for she and +Mrs. King were in the center of the room, and she was +being introduced as “My friend Julia.” How she did +wish she had taken mother’s advice and worn the new, +pretty serge!</p> +<p>In one of the corners of the dining-room there was a +little table for two that overlooked the lake, and towards +this Mrs. King made her way. Here they could see every +one and yet be quite alone. Then Mrs. King told her a +little of the people in the room. Here was the wife of a +noted judge; that was the High School teacher of whom +she must have heard the girls speak if they had ever +been to that school.</p> +<p>“And who are these two girls in front of us?” asked +Julia. “Isn’t the dark-haired one a beauty? Evidently +the young man with her thinks so, too.”</p> +<p>Then Mrs. King’s face grew quiet as she said,</p> +<p>“Those are two girls of whom we are very fond here, +but I am so sorry to see Jessie doing as she is. No, +Julia, she is not pretty. She has painted her face and +all her natural beauty is hidden. Usually she is very +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +attractive. Her friend’s face is sweet and clean. Evidently +she does not care to attract attention to herself by +the use of paint and rouge. She believes in being true +to her best self even though she is not in the height of +style. When you have lived longer, you will know, dear, +the truth of what I say.”</p> +<p>Poor Julia. Her face burned like fire. Mrs. King had +said “My friend Julia,” yet she, too, had paint on her face—not +red like the girl in front, to be sure, but it was +there. Why had no one told her before? All the girls +did it and she thought it was the thing to do. Then there +came to her an impulse to ask Mrs. King about it, so she +said frankly,</p> +<p>“Mrs. King, I have some paint on my face, too, but I +put it on because I was coming out with you. I thought +you would like to have me look my very best.”</p> +<p>“Indeed I do, girlie,” said Mrs. King, putting her hand +on the hand of the girl opposite her. “Indeed I do want +you to look your best. I have liked you ever since I +came to Hillcrest to live and it has hurt me to see you +trying to do as all the other girls did. I have wished so +often that you would be a leader in doing the finer things +and help others to see what real beauty is and how to get +it. Real beauty is not put on from the outside; it grows +from within.”</p> +<p>Julia looked at Mrs. King’s sweet, loving face very +hard for a minute and then said,</p> +<p>“I have liked you, too, and I have watched you go +back and forth, wishing I could be like you. Will you +show me how? Mother has tried but I thought she did +not know. No one else has ever tried to tell me about +your kind of beauty.”</p> +<p>So they made the compact. Then they sat and +watched for well-dressed women; for women in whose +faces there was strength of character and purpose; for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +girls whose very manner showed they were ladies; for +men who honored the girls in whose company they were. +Such fun as it was! Julia never knew the time to go so +fast. It was so plain now that clothes did not necessarily +make the lady. She was almost sorry when it came time +to go home.</p> +<p>In the house, a great fire was burning and it looked so +cozy.</p> +<p>“I have looked into your windows many times as I +have passed and wished I could sit before the fire and +dream and dream,” said the girl. “May I sit down here +for a while?”</p> +<p>“We will both sit here,” said Mrs. King, “then I will +tell you about my little girl who used to sit here with me.”</p> +<p>How Julia’s heart ached for her friend as she told her +of her love for her own dear girl, of the plans they had +made, of the sudden sickness and death, and of the loneliness +of the big house since she had gone! She had +thought Mrs. King had everything to make her happy, +yet the thing she wanted most she could not have.</p> +<p>“Her hair was much like yours and sometimes, as you +have passed, I have wished I could comb yours as I did +hers. Would you mind if I did?” said the mother.</p> +<p>“I should love to have you,” said Julia.</p> +<p>“Well, then, when the fire has died out, we will go up +to her room. In the drawer there I have a little white +dress that perhaps you would like. I will comb your +hair just as I did hers and see if the dress will fit you,” +said Mrs. King. “If you look sweet and girlish in it, I +will give it to you.”</p> +<p>While Mrs. King slipped away to get the things needed +for the hairdressing, Julia went to the great white bathroom, +and when she came out her face was sweet and +clean and every trace of the paint and powder was gone. +Her pretty brown hair was down her back in ringlets +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +and her face wore a look which the girls at the office had +never seen there.</p> +<p>Then Mrs. King brushed, and brushed, and brushed till +the hair was soft and shiny. Low in her neck she coiled +it, making it look girlish and neat, fastening it with a +tiny velvet circlet. Then Julia held her breath as Mrs. +King took from a drawer a little white dress. It was a +simple silk mull but it was prettily made. Below it was +a dainty petticoat and at the bottom of the drawer were +white oxfords and fine, lisle stockings.</p> +<p>“These were ready for her graduation, dear, but she +never wore them once after they were made,” said the +mother softly, as she fingered the dress lovingly.</p> +<p>There were tears in the eyes of the mother and tears +in the eyes of the girl as the dress was put on. And when +Julia looked into the mirror she seemed to see a strange +girl. How little she looked like the girls in the office! +But she liked her hair—and she liked the looks of her +face—and she loved the simple, white dress.</p> +<p>Last of all Mrs. King slipped about her neck a little +string of pearls. “These are my gift to you, Julia,” she +said. “Wear them when you think you are dressed as +you and I have planned to-night and be as beautiful as +the pearls. Remember, dear, we may put beautiful things +on the outside but they can never make us beautiful. It +comes from the inside because of what we are. It stands +the test of study. It is always real. A girl who does +not live up to the best she knows can well be called a +coward. Good night, dear, I am glad there is a girlie +who loves me.”</p> +<p>Then with a good-night kiss she was gone—gone, as +Julia knew, to be more than ever lonely for her own +little girl.</p> +<p>For a long time Julia stood looking at the dress, and +the slippers, and the stockings. Mrs. King had plenty +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +of money, yet these were to have been her daughter’s +graduation clothes. And she had not finished school +because she could not have clothes like the rest of the +girls who were to have expensive ones. Mrs. King was +honored all through the city, yet she was dressed in a +simple serge dress at the Country Club. It was all very +strange! Some one had things very much mixed up +concerning what a girl should wear. How long it +seemed since she had left the office in the afternoon!</p> +<p>The room was so dainty that it took Julia a long time +to get ready for bed. How she would love to have a +room like this! Maybe it would be easy to be good. She +looked at the dress again, as she laid it carefully over +the chair. It was all hers. The girls would laugh at +her but she loved it. Then she lifted the little string of +pearls—not cheap, big ones such as she had worn on +Sunday, but dainty, beautiful ones, and they whispered +again to her,</p> +<p>“Be as beautiful as the beads, girlie. True beauty is +never put on from the outside. It comes from inside +because of what you are.”</p> +<p>Long she stood in the moonlight near the window looking +at them. Then she dropped on her knees and said,</p> +<p>“Dear God, she has shown me the best. Help me +not to be a coward as I go out and try to do it. Help +me to be as beautiful as the pearls. I thank Thee for +to-day. I want to show others what real beauty is and +how to get it. Please help me.”</p> +<p>And the Father heard the prayer of the girl kneeling +there in her white night-gown, for it came from a sincere +heart—and He answered. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span></p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 0em'> +<a name='THE_BEST_DAY' id='THE_BEST_DAY'></a> +<h2>THE BEST DAY</h2> +</div> + +<div class='ce' style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:2em;'> +<p><i>By</i> <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Mrs. Annie G. Freeman</span></p> +</div> + +<p>One sunny summer afternoon Margaret sat reading +beneath the shade of an old apple tree. Before her +stretched a charming view but on her face was a troubled, +dissatisfied look.</p> +<p>“Oh, dear,” she sighed. “Even this book is stupid. +It is the dullest, most stupid day that I ever saw.”</p> +<p>“Stupid day?” said a tiny voice. There on the rock +before her sat the daintiest little golden-haired fairy +that she had ever seen. The fairy’s feet were resting on +a woodbine vine that was creeping up the wall, and her +wings were as delicate as those of a butterfly.</p> +<p>“What makes such a bright day as this stupid?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I suppose it is myself,” said the discontented +girl.</p> +<p>“I believe it is,” said the fairy. “Now I will take you +with me to the Palace of Time and you shall choose a day +that suits you better. Come.”</p> +<p>Over green meadows, through pleasant pastures, beside +babbling brooks that sparkled and played in the sunshine, +the fairy led. At last they came to the Palace of +Time. The fairy led the way up the long hall to the +throne on which Time sat, and told her errand.</p> +<p>“Take the little friend to the Hall of Days,” he said, +“and give her the day that pleases her best.”</p> +<p>How delighted the maiden was! Wouldn’t you be if +a fairy should take you out of a stupid day and promise +you the day that pleased you most? She just skipped +along, her feet scarcely touching the ground in her joy. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +In a great room filled with all kinds of bright lights, they +stopped.</p> +<p>“This is the Hall of Days,” said the fairy. “Take +whichever day pleases you most.”</p> +<p>Like great balls of glass the days were of many colors +and of many kinds. Some were dark and some were +light; some were dim and others clear.</p> +<p>One was like a crystal and the odor of roses seemed +to come from it. Its colors were soft and Margaret +gazed deep into it. Vague dreams seemed to come from +it and memories happy and delightful. But she couldn’t +live on dreams and memories. That wouldn’t do. She +might like that sort of a day once in a while but her +young life demanded something to do on the best day. +This was a day that had gone.</p> +<p>One other day pleased her much. It shone like the +sun on the new fallen snow. It was so white and so +pure that she lifted it carefully lest she should soil and +spot it.</p> +<p>“It is too bright. It hurts my eyes,” said she, putting +it back.</p> +<p>“Yes, little girl,” said the fairy. “That is to-morrow. +It must be shaded by many things before one can bear +it.”</p> +<p>Then, just between the two, Margaret spied the most +beautiful ball of all. It wavered and shimmered; now it +was red, now green, now yellow and now pink. Oh, there +were so many colors that she could not name them all. +Wave upon wave of color swept through it and all seemed +shot with the golden lights.</p> +<p>“That is the one that I want,” she cried happily. “That +is the most beautiful day of all.”</p> +<p>“Take it, then,” said the fairy. “It is yours.”</p> +<p>All the way home, the maiden clasped it tightly.</p> +<p>“With this day,” she said, “I can be joyful. With +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +this day I can make so many people happy, and it is so +bright that I can see the best way in which to go. It is +as light as a feather. I can hardly wait to show my +friends the beautiful day that I have chosen, for I love +it dearly.”</p> +<p>“Yes, indeed,” said the fairy, as she flew off in a different +direction. “It is a wonderful day. Infinite wisdom +and love helped you to choose aright. That is +To-day.”</p> +<p>“What a beautiful day!” said the maiden as she sat in +the shade of the old apple tree. “I believe I have been +dreaming. But this is too beautiful a day to idle it away. +I will go and do something for some one to make others +see its beauty also.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='IN_THE_WAY' id='IN_THE_WAY'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +<h2>IN THE WAY</h2> +</div> + +<p>Gladys Mercer sat looking at a snapshot which +had come to her from one of her girl friends. It +showed a strong, athletic woman with a blanket rolled +over her back hiking along the road and with her six +girls in middies and bloomers. And as Gladys looked at +the picture, she smiled at the memories which it brought.</p> +<p>There was the long hike, the tired muscles, the view +from the mountaintop, the wonderful sunset, the stillness +of the night and the fear of the dark. Then there was +the voice of the woman in the picture,</p> +<p>“Girls, you are safer here than in any house you could +find. Just remember that God is over all and sleep as +sound as can be.”</p> +<p>Then there was the sunrise, the pancake breakfast on +the hill, and the hike home. Best of all there had been +two long days with Mrs. Fuller, the friend of girls. +What a good visit they had had with her! What a fine +story she had told them at the sunset! What a helpful +prayer she had made as they closed their good-night song +when the sun went down!</p> +<p>And then from the thought of the trip, Gladys went +to the thought of all that Mrs. Fuller had meant to her. +She was sunny; she was happy in her work through the +day, and happy to give her time to them at night; she +was always ready to advise and help; she seemed to know +just what to do when they did not know; somehow she +could always get them to do the thing they had thought +they would not do. She was to Gladys, the motherless +girl, a friend, a companion, a leader and a heroine. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span></p> +<p>What was there about her that made her able to lead? +Was it her smile? Was it her ability to do things? What +made a leader anyway?</p> +<p>Gladys leaned far back against the old tree under +which she had been sitting and said to herself, “I wish—I +wish——”</p> +<p>“And what do you wish,” said a little voice, and there +close to her was a dear little lady dressed in red and in +her hand she carried a lamp.</p> +<p>“Who are you?” said Gladys.</p> +<p>“I am the Fairy of Helpful Service,” said the little +lady. “I heard you talking about one of my helpers, so +I was interested to know what you wished when you +thought of all she had done for you girls. Now tell me. +What do you wish?”</p> +<p>“If you are a fairy, perhaps you can give me my wish. +I wish to be like Mrs. Fuller. I want to help girls. I +want to get the kind of letters she gets from girls who are +far away. I want to see ‘my girls’ some day giving service +all over the world as she does. I want to be like +her. Please, fairy, give me my wish.”</p> +<p>“I can’t make you like her but I can put you in the +way of service and then, if you choose, you can become +like her and get the things you are asking for. Those +things are not given—they are earned, and the cost of +them is heavy. I don’t really think you mean what you +say, for you haven’t even wanted to go to school to learn +to help. Perhaps the best way would be to let you see +<i>her</i> in the way and then you can choose for yourself +whether you want your gift. Come and we will watch +her climb the way.”</p> +<p>So the Fairy of Helpful Service and the girl who +wanted to be a leader went together into the House of +the Past.</p> +<p>“There,” said the fairy, “there is Mrs. Fuller as a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +little girl. We will watch her grow and you may see +where she earned some of the qualities which you admire +in her.”</p> +<p>There she was, a mischievous little girl of ten, as happy +as the day was long.</p> +<p>“Here she is laying the foundation for health,” said +the fairy, “with long hours of sleep and good food and +plenty of play. One begins away back in girlhood to be +a leader. Some who would have been good helpers for +me cannot serve because they did not begin early enough +to get ready.”</p> +<p>Then as the little girl played there came into the way +a black, black cloud. Gladys shuddered as it came nearer +and nearer to the little girl and finally enveloped her. +It was death—the death of her father, but after the cloud +had passed and the sunshine had come again, the fairy +said,</p> +<p>“See, her shoulders are broader. She has learned +what loneliness means.”</p> +<p>On she went and then she was going to High School. +Others had clothes that she did not have. She must +hurry to finish because there was no father in the home. +So, eagerly she pushed through the High School.</p> +<p>Just here Gladys saw a hand reached out to help and +heard a voice saying to the girl, “Of course it will be +hard but you can go to college if you really want to go. +It will do you good to sacrifice for it.” ’Twas the Master +of the school who was helping her to keep in the way.</p> +<p>“Can you see her grow?” said the fairy. “She has +added concentration, an appreciation of the girl who has +little and who must be with girls who have much, and +now she has been given a vision.”</p> +<p>Then Gladys watched her toil through college, earning +her way, often overtired and worried as to where the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +means to go on were to come from. But she pushed +ahead.</p> +<p>“Oh,” said Gladys, “how hard she works! I could +never do that. I am sorry for her.”</p> +<p>“You needn’t be,” said the fairy. “You need never +be sorry for those that sacrifice for an ideal. Be sorry +for those who have none and so who live at ease.” And +they watched her struggle through temptation and toil +to the graduation day.</p> +<p>As the college days passed, there came strength of +purpose, but there came also the desire to serve. Gladys +watched her lead the little group of dirty street boys in +the slums.</p> +<p>“How can she do it?” said Gladys. “They are so +dirty and so rough.”</p> +<p>But the fairy said, “When one wants to serve, she +looks at the heart and the life—not at the clothes and the +actions. The boys are helping her to keep in the way.”</p> +<p>And after college there were happy days. Days of love +and comradeship, days of work for the fairy; days when +opportunity was everywhere. And in these days of happiness +there came lessons of sharing, of winning, of filling +the life with sunshine. The path was so bright that +it dazzled.</p> +<p>Suddenly, Gladys looked ahead in the path. “Look,” +she said to the fairy. “Look, oh, how black it is! Oh, +I am sorry.”</p> +<p>Then the storm descended and all was black in the way—oh, +so black and to move took all of one’s strength. +Against it she struggled, but it seemed as though she must +surely be driven from the path. Death and loneliness and +worries seemed overpowering.</p> +<p>But the storm passed and, when once again there was +peace, a great strength had come in its place, for there +was sympathy for others who suffered, there was an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +appreciation of the value of friendship, and there was a +knowledge that God helps.</p> +<p>Little by little the road widened, though often it was +lonely and hard. There were many steep places but each +added something. And then Gladys saw the picture +change.</p> +<p>There was Mrs. Fuller with her girls and she was +leading them by the hand. But it was by no means easy. +Some held back; some chose to play by the way; some +looked longingly at the things by the wayside that would +harm. But her one hand reached up and her other hand +helped them ahead as she tried to keep them in the way.</p> +<p>As the picture faded, Gladys turned to the fairy. “I +thought it had been all sunshine but now I see how hard +it has been to learn to understand and to help. I love +her better than I did before, now that I have seen her +in the way. Thank you, fairy.”</p> +<p>“But wait,” said the fairy. “You asked me for a gift. +Do you still want it? Do you still want to follow her?”</p> +<p>“To follow means study, and sacrifice, and temptations +conquered, and sympathy, and all sorts of hard things, +doesn’t it? I never thought about it. But I love Mrs. +Fuller and I still want to lead girls—I still want the +letters and I still want to be like her. Please, Fairy of +Good Works, put me in the way and I will go back to +school and begin to get ready.”</p> +<p>Then the little lady smiled as she waved her wand over +the head of the girl. “Your life may be much more +sunny than hers, dear. Not all must have the same +things to overcome. But whatever you meet in the way, +you must struggle against it and come out stronger because +you have struggled. Can you see away off there +in the distance the hands of girls—oh, so many of them—eagerly +reached out for help? They are ‘your girls.’ +And here is the way. Above there is one who helps and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +I am here though you may not see me. Push forward +or the girls will have no helper. Good-by and good luck +to you.”</p> +<p>But as Gladys reached out to detain her, her hat fell +to the ground and she found herself sitting against the +tree. In her hand was the picture of Mrs. Fuller and her +girls. Long she looked at the picture. Then she said +to herself,</p> +<p>“I never knew the way was so long or so hard to be +like you but if just one girl can love me some day as I +love you, then I shall be glad I have walked in the way. +I am ready to try and I hope I can win.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='AN_OLD_OLD_STORY' id='AN_OLD_OLD_STORY'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +<h2>AN OLD, OLD STORY</h2> +</div> + +<p>It was a dark and rainy day when about the inn-fire, +close to the great caravan way that led through Canaan, +in the land of Palestine, a group of camel-drivers +and travelers were gathered. They looked very different +from what they do to-day, for nearly four thousand years +have passed since then. But they were all huddled together +listening to stories and songs.</p> +<p>In the group there were men from Egypt; there were +men from Babylon, the great city far to the East; there +were men from the land of Canaan; and then there were +some wandering nomads who had lately come from the +East and so were called by the Canaanites “Hebrews,” +which means, “People from the Other Side.” Most of +these men were shepherds, but they loved to meet with the +camel-drivers and learn of the customs and habits of +the people of other lands. ’Twas a strange group of men +sitting about the little fire.</p> +<p>In those days, as now, men loved to tell stories that +had come down to them from their fathers and grandfathers, +and often they found that a story from Egypt +was but little different from one that had been told in +Babylonia. So they loved to listen to the story-tellers.</p> +<p>But on this day it had rained and rained till the streams +were full and the way was very hard to go. Thus there +were very many men in the inn. ’Twas the turn of the +Babylonian, so he began,</p> +<p>“I will tell you one of the very oldest of our stories—about +a great rain-storm. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span></p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<p>“Years and years and years ago the Gods in heaven +began to fear that the men of the earth were going to live +forever and so they made a plan by which to destroy +them. There should be a great rain for days and days +and days, and all these men and women and children +should be drowned. Then the Gods would be free from +their worries.</p> +<p>“But one of the Gods named Ea had a friend who lived +on the earth, and so he sent word to him to go with all +his family into a big, big ship and take with him two of +every kind of animals. Utnapishtim, the friend, did as +he was told.</p> +<p>“Then the rain came and for six days and nights there +was no let-up at all. Deeper and deeper it grew till the +Gods in heaven grew afraid and cowered in the highest +corner of heaven. By this time every living thing, except +the ones in the big ship, was destroyed.</p> +<p>“But after six days, the rain ceased. Then the man +sent out a dove, but it returned, for it could find no place +to rest. Later he sent out a raven and it did not come +back, so he knew the waters were going down. Then he +made a great sacrifice to the Gods and they came, they +saw the great destruction and they gloated over it, pleased +that their plan had worked so well.”</p> +</div> +<p>There was applause when he had finished from many +of the group, but the Hebrews did not applaud. They +had been taught that there was one true God, not many +Gods. They had been taught that God was kind to all +and not one that gloated over destruction of men. They +were not pleased with the story of the great flood.</p> +<p>Then there came nights out under the stars and they +heard the stories of how the earth was made; of how man +came to be; of the meaning of many of the things that +they saw all about them. But in every story there were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +found Gods who were cruel, who were unkind, who quarreled +and fought. There were many, many Gods, but +none was like unto their God.</p> +<p>As the old Hebrews listened to all these old, old stories +from the countries about them which were told so often, +they shook their heads sadly and said,</p> +<p>“We have come into this country to live and bring up +our children. But if they hear these stories, they will believe +some of them and forget the true God. They must +have stories of their own that show how great and mighty +is the God of Israel. But what shall we do about these stories? +If we say the stories are false, they will laugh at us +and say, ‘Why, our people have known these stories since +long, long before there was a Hebrew on the earth. +What our fathers have told us as true is surely true.’ +And if we say to our children, ‘You must not listen to +these stories,’ they will be all the more eager to listen. +What shall we do?”</p> +<p>Finally it was decided that the stories of the Egyptians +and the Babylonians must be remade so as to be fit for +their children to hear and they must teach the beliefs +of their own religion in stories of their own.</p> +<p>So, many weeks later as the men were gathered out +under the stars on a beautiful night, one of the best of the +Hebrew story-tellers said quietly,</p> +<p>“I have listened to stories about the making of the +world from many of you but I think my story is better +than any you have told. Would you like to hear the story +of how the God of Israel made the world?”</p> +<p>“’Tis a Hebrew who is talking,” said one. “I didn’t +know you people had any stories. Give it to us. Then +we can compare it with our own great stories.”</p> +<p>And the Hebrew story-teller began:</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<p>“In the beginning God created the heaven and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +earth. And these are the generations of the heavens +and the earth when they were created in the day that +the Lord God made the earth and the heavens,</p> +<p>“And every plant of the field before it was in the +earth and every herb of the field before it grew; for the +Lord God had not caused it to rain upon the earth, and +there was not a man to till the ground.</p> +<p>“But there went up a mist from the earth and watered +the whole face of the ground.</p> +<p>“And the Lord God formed man out of the dust of +the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of +life; and man became a living soul.</p> +<p>“And out of the ground made the Lord God to grow +every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food; +the tree of life also in the midst of the garden and the +tree of the knowledge of good and evil.</p> +<p>“And the Lord God took the man and put him in the +Garden of Eden to dress it and to keep it.</p> +<p>“And out of the ground the Lord God made every +beast of the field and every fowl of the air and brought +them unto Adam to see what he would call them: and +whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was +the name thereof.”</p> +</div> +<p>There was silence when the story was finished. This +God of whom the Hebrew was telling was wise and +mighty enough to make the world, yet he was thoughtful +and kind. He allowed man to be a helper. There was +only one God. They liked the story so well that they +began to tell it also and soon the beautiful story was +known all through the land of Canaan. Little by little +it drove out the other stories and became the most loved +one.</p> +<p>And when the old Hebrews saw the power of the story +that told of the <i>one</i> great God rather than the many false +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +Gods, they just took many of the old stories and made +them good and wholesome for their own little children +to hear.</p> +<p>So great were the stories that the old Hebrews told +that you will find many of them living still. You can +read them in your own Bible in the book of Genesis.</p> +<p>Ever since that day years and years ago, men have +been asking that same old question, “Who made the +world?” The greatest men of science and history have +tried to answer it, but none of them have found a more +beautiful answer to the question than this one which the +old sheik told in the days of the long ago and which you +will find in the second chapter of Genesis in your Bible.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='HIS_DEBT' id='HIS_DEBT'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +<h2>HIS DEBT</h2> +</div> + +<p>It was a hot, sultry day in that little town near the +Western coast of Africa when Afa Bibo came. He had +had a long, long journey from his home among the Ntum +people far to the south of Efulen. So he, as well as the +men who had brought him, was glad when they saw +the rude little hospital looming up at the end of the path.</p> +<p>Years and years before, when Afa Bibo was just a +little baby, his mother and father, because they were +superstitious and ignorant, had deliberately infected the +little one with yaws, one of the most loathsome of African +diseases. Little by little the disease had spread +through his system till now, a boy in his teens, he was +gradually losing his sight. So they had brought him to +the white doctor who had done so much for boys and +girls in the neighborhood, to see if he could also help +Afa Bibo.</p> +<p>It took only a glance at the one eye to know that the +sight was gone forever. But there was a chance that the +other might be saved. To be sure, the inflammation was +there and much damage had been done, but still there was +a chance. So they put him under the care of the nurse +and began the fight that was to tell whether he was to +be one of the many African blind ones who suffer so +much and help so little, or whether he was to be like +other boys.</p> +<p>It was a long, hard time for the little fellow. The eyes +must be washed with a solution that was very painful; +he must spend long hours not only lying in bed but with +all light shut from his eye. He grew very weary with it +all. But after the months had gone, Afa Bibo went out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +of that hospital with an eye as clean and white in the +ball as yours or mine.</p> +<p>Of course, he was anxious to go back to his people +and tell them what wonderful things had been done for +him, but the Doctor said,</p> +<p>“Afa, you can do much with your one good eye, but +if you will stay right here and go to school with the boys +for a time, you can do much, much more. You can be as +good as one man, two men, and perhaps as much as +three. If you will stay, you can be a big man in your +own tribe. It may be you could be a teacher and tell +the boys there how to read and write or it might be—yes, +it might be—you could be a doctor and make other +boys to see, just as we have done to you.”</p> +<p>So Afa Bibo stayed in the mission school and learned +to study, and to work, and to think. For a time he felt +badly to think he had only one eye when all his companions +had two, but little by little he seemed to have forgotten +it.</p> +<p>Then came the day when the Christian people of that +little African church were to pledge a definite number of +days of service in carrying the message of the Christ to +others. Some were to go out and teach; some were to +carry Testaments and tracts written in Bulu to others; +some were to help about the mission station so that there +might be a better place in which to teach the ones who +came. Some were to raise extra crops so they might +have something to give to those who went far out to teach. +Every one could give something, even though it was very +different from what another gave.</p> +<p>As it neared the time for the service, the black people +might be seen coming from all directions. Some had +walked five miles, some ten, and some even twenty. All +had something to eat so that they might stay to hear all +the good news that could be given in a day. They filled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +the little bare building which the boys of the school had +builded for a church; they filled the window spaces; then +they filled the yard about the church. Oh! there were +very many of them and all were eager for the service +to begin.</p> +<p>Holding the roof of the little church were large poles +which had been painted white and on these the pledges +were to be made. So as the service began, many looked +at the poles and thought what a wonderful thing it was +to be allowed to give of themselves to the God who had +become their own.</p> +<p>Soon the pledging began. First to go was the old +chief who had given up his twenty wives that he might +become a Christian. He was old. What would he give? +First he made a slanting line and then he crossed it. Ah! +that was ten days of service.</p> +<p>Then others were ready, and some gave ten days, some +one or two weeks, and some could even give a month. +The lines covered one pole and then another as the people +passed down the aisle and out of the building.</p> +<p>Last of all came the boys of the school. How could +they give? They were only boys. But they could take +of their play time till they had gained a day or more +to give. One marked after another and last of all it was +the turn of Afa Bibo.</p> +<p>Very near to him stood the kind doctor who had made +him free from the pain and able to see the way as he +came to the white pole. So he smiled one of his rare +smiles as he passed him. Then he made a slanting line +and crossed it; another and crossed it. That was twenty +days. No boy had given as much as that. But he was +making another—twenty-five days. And he crossed the +third. Then with his shoulders square and resolve in his +face he went out with the rest.</p> +<p>As the missionaries sat before their home on the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +following day, they saw Afa Bibo coming across the yard +to them. Calling the doctor aside, he said,</p> +<p>“Doctor, I am not satisfied with what I pledged yesterday. +I want to give more.”</p> +<p>“But, Afa,” said the doctor, “already you have pledged +thirty days. That is a great deal for a boy to give. A +pledge to God from you must be as binding as His promise +is to us. Work out the thirty days and then come +back and give Him more if you like.”</p> +<p>“But I am not happy about it,” said the boy, “I want +to give more.”</p> +<p>“I think you had better leave it just as it is, for I am +sure you do not know how long thirty days will be when +you begin to give it all. Run along and do your lessons. +I think you have given much to God,” said the Doctor.</p> +<p>Then Afa slowly came very near to the doctor. Looking +up into his face, he pulled down the lower lid of the +good eye showing it to be white and free from all soreness +and pain.</p> +<p>“Doctor,” he said, “do you see that good eye? Well, +God saved me that eye and I have more to be thankful +for than any one else in all that big churchful yesterday. +I owe him more than thirty days. Please, sir, I want to +pay back a little of what I owe him. Let me make it +thirty-five.”</p> +<p>So together the doctor, who had given his life for God, +and the little black boy, who was just beginning to give, +went to the church and put another black mark on the +tall white pole. And Afa Bibo went out to work his +thirty-five days for God.</p> +<p>Were you to go among the Ntum people to-day, you +would find there a man who is beloved by all because he +has loved to give of himself to his people. He has a +kindly face and a loving heart. It is Afa Bibo, the boy +who is still eager to pay for his one good eye.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='HOW_KAGIGEGABO_BECAME_A_BRAVE' id='HOW_KAGIGEGABO_BECAME_A_BRAVE'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +<h2>HOW KAGIGEGABO BECAME A BRAVE</h2> +</div> + +<p>Kagigegabo sat in front of the wigwam watching +the fire slowly die out. Her heart was full of bitterness. +For days she had watched the Braves get ready +for the long chase. They had painted their faces; they +had given their war cries; they had fasted and prayed.</p> +<p>And now they had gone and the camp seemed very still. +Oh! how she had wanted to go! Why was she born a girl +when she did want to be a Brave! Girls could never do +brave things—they had to stay at home, and tend the fires, +and hoe the garden. Everything a girl had to do, she +hated. Everything a boy had to do, she liked. Her name +was Kagigegabo, which meant “One who stands forever.” +That would be a great name for a Brave, but she could +never do anything that was worth while. She was only a +girl.</p> +<p>Slowly she rose to bring the corn and grind it. There +was little needed, for the Braves of the wigwam had all +gone—even Guka, her brother, had gone. Before this she +had watched the others go and then had had him to cheer +her. Oh, dear! Why was she a girl?</p> +<p>Hearing a step behind her, she rose to find Wicostu, the +oldest squaw of the tribe, waiting to speak with her.</p> +<p>“I have heard your thought,” she said. “You think +that to be a girl is to be less than a Brave. It is not so. +It is not so. To be a squaw one must be very brave. +We cannot go to hunt and to kill, but it takes no less of +courage to stay here and guard the tepees. It takes courage +to bear pain—it takes courage to be tired and not +complain. You can be brave, Kagigegabo, even though +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +you must grow into a Mahala and sit by the fire. The +courage is not in the war paint and feathers—the courage +is all in the heart.”</p> +<p>Kagigegabo sat very still after Wicostu had left her. +Over and over she said to herself those last words of the +old squaw—“The courage is all in the heart.” Perhaps +after all she could be a Brave, such as Guka was trying +to be.</p> +<p>Down toward the spring she ran to get the water for +the meal when, suddenly, a hand reached out of the bushes, +and she was drawn into them. When she tried to scream, +a heavy band was placed over her mouth, and then her +hands were tied, her eyes were bandaged and she felt +herself being thrown on a pony. Oh! how fast they went!—like +the wind it seemed.</p> +<p>Who had taken her? Where was she going? What +did they want? Frightened as she was, she still was +trying to think.</p> +<p>Then, like a flash, there came to her something that she +had heard the old chief say when she had been trying +to get closer to the council fire the last night.</p> +<p>“We shall go by the hill trail, for Eagle’s Claw will +surely have spies about the camp. We cannot get through +the valley alive.”</p> +<p>Perhaps she had been taken by the spies and was on +her way to the enemy camp of Eagle’s Claw. Oh! What +did they want? If only she were a Brave, perhaps she +would know what to do. Then there came to her the +words of Wicostu:</p> +<p>“You can be brave. The courage is all in the heart.” +But to be brave when one did not know what was going +to happen—oh! that was hard.</p> +<p>When the bandage was taken from her eyes, she was +in the center of a circle of old Braves. Very fierce they +looked as she glanced about the circle. Her knees shook +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +till it seemed she must fall. Then she made a low bow +to the chief and pointed to her feet—a sign that she was +ready to be his slave.</p> +<p>“Do you see that knife?” he screamed at her. “You +shall die unless you tell us by what path and to what place +your Braves went to-day. Speak!”</p> +<p>What should she do? If she told, the men would die. +If she kept silence, she must die. Her hands trembled. +Then she remembered again the words of Wicostu, +“Courage is all in the heart,” and smiling at the chief +she said:</p> +<p>“Kagigegabo will lead you. She knows not the name, +but the way.”</p> +<p>For a long time they counseled. Should they go? At +last five of the Braves were ready. They mounted her +on a pony. Then they came to her with a great bow +and some poisoned arrows and said:</p> +<p>“If you try to escape, these are for you. If you lead +us wrong, these are for you. If you lead us right, you +shall have this young Brave,” and they led forth one of +the strong, young Braves of the tribe. “Go.”</p> +<p>Out of the encampment went the six horses. Where +should she go? She must lead in the way of the hill. +But how could she? Once she climbed a tree to get a look +out and so gained a little time. Once she led them where +the rock dropped sheer and bare, and again she gained +time. But nearer and nearer to the meeting place she +came.</p> +<p>Suddenly low at her feet she saw a tiny, white flower. +It was the one used by her mother to make the sweet +drink that would make one sleep, and sleep, and sleep. +But if too much was taken, it meant death. A daring +plan came to her mind. Dare she do it? Dare she eat +of it? Mother brewed it—she must eat it as it was. They +were still several hours from where she knew her father +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +was to be found. If her plan succeeded, she could save +him.</p> +<p>Reaching down, she dug her feet into the sides of the +little pony. Immediately his heels went high in the air +and she lay flat on the ground.</p> +<p>Quickly she gathered much of the little white flower +and pushed it into her dress. Then when the men came, +she was lying with broken ankle on the ground. The pain +was intense, but the happiness that they must stop was +sweet to the girl. Over and over and over she said to herself, +“Courage is all in the heart. I can be a Brave.”</p> +<p>She took some of the little white flower and began to +eat of it.</p> +<p>“What is it?” said the men. “What do you eat?”</p> +<p>“I eat the sweet flower of this little plant. If you eat +of this, you shall not thirst,” said the girl.</p> +<p>Now they had ridden far and hard and the day was very +warm, so when the men heard this, they bent and gathered +bits of the plant. It was sweet and pleasing to the taste, +so they ate more and more of it. And the Indian girl +watched them and smiled when none could see.</p> +<p>It was decided to get the evening meal while the oldest +chief bound the ankle of the girl. So they hurriedly +cooked it. But before it was ready, the leader leaned +against the old tree and he was asleep. Then another and +another slept. Stronger than opium had been the flower +that they had eaten.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>Kagigegabo watched them while her own eyes began to +droop. She must not go to sleep. Oh! what could she +do? She must ride when they were asleep. What could +she do? She turned and twisted the broken ankle. That +helped a bit, for the pain was intense. She pulled great +locks of her hair and tied them about her fingers so that +the blood would have to force its way about. And after +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +what seemed to her to be hours, she was still awake and +the five men were all sleeping.</p> +<p>Slowly, very slowly, she pulled herself away from the +fire out into the bush where her pony was tied. Her feet +seemed determined not to move and she wanted so much +to lie down and sleep. But she kept on till she had led +the pony away from the group. Then she mounted and +started on her ride.</p> +<p>But it was no use. She could not stay awake. Now +what was she to do? They were on the direct road to the +valley. For a moment she hesitated. Then quickly she +tore her dress in strips. Taking a sharp stone, she cut +her arm and with the blood she made two pictures on a +piece of wood—the one showed five Indians asleep—the +other showed an Indian girl by the road. Taking the +strips from her dress, she fastened the bit of wood to the +saddle.</p> +<p>She took from her arm the circle of brass which would +tell her father from whom the message had come, and +fastened it to the saddle. Then a cut of the whip across +the legs sent the pony flying down the path.</p> +<p>After he had gone, the girl sat in a dazed way near the +path. She was so tired. If only they would hurry, then +she could tell them which way to go—but sleep came +before the pony had gone even one mile.</p> +<p>Five days later, Kagigegabo opened her eyes slowly +and looked about. She was lying on the skins in the wigwam +of her mother. Her ankle was tightly bound and +she felt very stiff and sore. Across her wrist there was +an ugly cut. No one was about so she lay there trying +to remember what had happened. How long had she been +there and where was her mother?</p> +<p>A step sounded outside and an old war chief—her +father—looked anxiously into the tent. When he saw her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +eyes open, he came slowly in and gazed long at the Indian +girl on the bed and then went as slowly out again.</p> +<p>When he came back, there were with him five other +chiefs. Around the bed they stood in a silent circle and +Kagigegabo wondered what they were going to do with +her. Had she done wrong? Was she to be punished?</p> +<p>But the old chief spoke:</p> +<p>“Kagigegabo, you have saved the tribe from ruin, and +because of your help, we have captured the enemy, for +whom we were searching. They have told us of your +bravery and of your wisdom. You were more full of +courage than any squaw we have ever known. You shall +no longer be called Kagigegabo, but you shall be called +Aotonaka, the daring one.”</p> +<p>Then upon the arm of the girl who had wished she +could be a Brave they bound a red band—the red band of +courage. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span></p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 0em'> +<a name='THE_WHITE_FLOWER_OF_HAPPINESS' id='THE_WHITE_FLOWER_OF_HAPPINESS'></a> +<h2>THE WHITE FLOWER OF HAPPINESS</h2> +</div> + +<div class='ce' style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:2em;'> +<p><i>By</i> <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Persis Richardson</span></p> +</div> + +<p>The King sat in the library of the palace reading an +old, old book—a book written when the King’s +great-great-grandfather sat on the throne. The King had +never seen the book before and it was very interesting to +him. For the book told of a strange little plant that had +grown in the kingdom in those days of the old, old +king.</p> +<p>No matter how hard the people had to work, if the little +plant was growing in their homes, they were happy. +Indeed, the book said that the flower of the plant was so +beautiful that no garden was complete without it; so in +the days of the long ago, it grew in the gardens of the rich +and the poor, while happiness and prosperity reigned in +the land.</p> +<p>Eagerly the king read the description of the little flower +that grew on this wonderful plant. It was white as the +driven snow. It had heart-shaped petals surrounding a +wonderful heart of gold, and it was known as the White +Flower of Happiness.</p> +<p>Now the King loved flowers dearly and there were +many in his garden; but he was sure he had never seen +this little flower. So, because he wanted to have one for +his very own and especially because he wanted happiness +and prosperity for his people, he determined to find it.</p> +<p>“Surely somewhere in the kingdom there must be a +plant left if it grew so common in the days of my great-great-grandfather,” +said the King.</p> +<p>Then calling the heralds to him he said: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span></p> +<p>“Ride forth and search. Go East, and West, and +North, and South, and say to my people, ‘Search for the +White Flower of Happiness, and when you have found it, +bring it to me that I may raise more seeds so that all may +have a chance to own it. ‘Tis a little flower, white as +the driven snow, with petals that are heart-shaped around +a heart of gold.’”</p> +<p>Eagerly the people, both rich and poor, went to work, +for they knew of the wondrous beauty of the flower and +wished it for their own.</p> +<p>Now there were two people who were very sure they +would be first to find the flower. One was a rich woman +who loved beautiful things. Her home was the largest of +any on the finest street in the royal city. She had many +and large gardens, cared for by the best gardeners to be +found. Yet in the summer-time, when they were glowing +with hundreds of flowers, few there were who could enjoy +them. A high hedge surrounded them all and only her +friends were permitted to go through the iron entrance +gate.</p> +<p>This wealthy woman said to herself: “I will find the +flower and it will be easy to keep it secret from all others +if I have it here behind the hedge. Then I shall be sure +of happiness in the future.”</p> +<p>So all of her gardeners were set to work to search for +the White Flower of Happiness. Wherever they found +a plant of rare beauty, they bought it hoping that it might +be the plant she sought. Seeds of all kinds also were +planted. And in the blossoming time there were flowers +in the gardens by the thousands—but behind that great +wall there was no flower that was white as the driven +snow, with heart-shaped petals surrounding a heart of +gold.</p> +<p>There was also a man in the kingdom who thought he +could surely find the flower. He was a business man. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span></p> +<p>“If I could find it,” he said, “I would grow more plants +and sell them to the people at a great profit. Then I +should quickly grow rich and there would be no need for +me to work.”</p> +<p>So he set his office force all to work to write letters to +the gardeners and seed-growers of the world. They described +the little flower and offered large sums for one single +plant. But he, too, failed in his search. It was not +to be found.</p> +<p>Down in the heart of the poorer section of the royal +city there lived a little old lady whom every one called +Aunt Betsy. She was very poor; she had only one room +that she could call home, and her only companion was a +scrawny cat that every one else had driven away. But it +loved her and she loved it, and was glad to have it share +her home.</p> +<p>She was very lame and had to hobble away to her work +every morning, yet she was the cheeriest little body alive +and every one loved her.</p> +<p>Aunt Betsy, like all of her neighbors, was seeking the +White Flower of Happiness.</p> +<p>“This old street with its tumble-down houses, and uneven +sidewalks, and tin cans surely needs a heap of something +to cheer it,” she would say. “Now, if I could find +just one plant, I would make this old alley the finest +place ever. Then the little children here could have some +chance. I wish I might find it.”</p> +<p>But no flowers grew where she lived or where she +worked, so she couldn’t hope to find the plant. The only +thing she could do was to save every penny she could so +that, if the King found the plant, she might possibly buy a +seed.</p> +<p>Into an old tin cup she put the pennies, one by one, but +it was very slow work, for Aunt Betsy was very poor.</p> +<p>One winter night as Aunt Betsy returned from work, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +she found a queer looking bundle on her door-step and, +on unrolling it, she found Bobby, one of the neighbor’s +children. Now Bobby had no mother and only a poor +drunken father, who often beat him. And Aunt Betsy +saw, as she unrolled him, that his face was all tear-stained, +so she knew what had been happening. Bobby +had crept away from the blows to come to his best friend +when in trouble—Aunt Betsy.</p> +<p>Carefully she picked the little fellow up, carried him +into her bare little room, gave him a hot drink, and then +tucked him all comfortably on the couch which served as +her bed. Tired from his day of play and work, the little +fellow was soon lost in sleep.</p> +<p>Not so Aunt Betsy. Sitting by the fire, all she could +see were the great holes in the shoes she was drying. +Bobby needed some shoes very badly, but she had no +money with which to buy some.</p> +<p>“There is the money in the cup,” said a voice within.</p> +<p>“But I couldn’t give that, for I want so much to buy a +seed to bring happiness to this alley,” thought Aunt +Betsy.</p> +<p>“But a pair of shoes would bring happiness to Bobbie +now,” said the voice.</p> +<p>She looked again at the little swollen feet under the +cover on the couch. Then slowly, yet with a smile of +infinite tenderness, she softly stole to the cupboard, took +the money from the little tin cup, drew on her old shawl, +and went out into the night.</p> +<p>’Twas a very happy Bobbie who went back to his home +in the morning, and behind Aunt Betsy’s stove were the +little worn shoes. A little later a little old woman went +down the narrow stairs to her work and she sang as she +went.</p> +<p>That night Aunt Betsy, hurrying past a florist’s shop, +bumped into a barrel of waste that stood on the walk. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +Stopping abruptly, she saw a wilted-looking plant in an +old broken pot on the top of the pile.</p> +<p>“Why, you poor little plant,” said Aunt Betsy. “I’ll +just take you home and love you; perhaps you will grow +for me in my little upper room.”</p> +<p>So she carried it home, transplanted it into the old tin +cup from which she had taken the money, and then set it +where the sunshine would find it the very first thing in the +morning.</p> +<p>In two days the plant showed signs of life. In a week +it stood tall and firm. In two weeks there was a bud +which Aunt Betsy watched with great care. Would it be +pink or red or yellow? She didn’t care if only it were a +blossom.</p> +<p>’Twas night when she came home from her work, but +as soon as she opened the door she knew that the little +flower had opened, for the room was full of the fragrance +that it was sending forth. She hurried to the window and +she saw—oh, could she believe her eyes! She saw a little +flower, white as the driven snow. Its petals were heart-shaped +and surrounded a heart of wonderful gold. It was +the White Flower of Happiness.</p> +<p>During the night, the little plant stayed with her in the +attic room, but in the morning she carried it to the palace +and gave it to the King. Thus, through a simple loving +old woman, the White Flower of Happiness was given to +a whole kingdom.</p> +<p>But the strange thing about the plant was this: Whenever +its owner kept the flower only for self and did not +share it with others, it withered and died; but, when +lovingly shared, it grew and blossomed and made happy, +not only its owner, but all to whom it went. It was in +very truth to all—The White Flower of Happiness.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='THE_SPEAKING_PICTURE' id='THE_SPEAKING_PICTURE'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +<h2>THE SPEAKING PICTURE</h2> +</div> + +<p>There had been a great discussion in the High School +all the week, and as Friday drew nearer the excitement +grew more and more intense. For Barton High +School had many girls from the Hill section of the town +where the mill owners lived, and also many girls from the +River section where the mill workers lived.</p> +<p>There was to be an election for the president of the +Senior Class and when the names of the candidates for the +presidency had been posted on the bulletin board by the +nominating committee, a mill girl headed the list.</p> +<p>Such a thing had never been heard of in the school. +Always the president of the class had been the one who could +entertain the class, who could stand out prominently during +class week, whose father would help to pay the bills of +the Commencement time.</p> +<p>But at the beginning of the year, the class had decided +to learn to do things according to parliamentary law and +to be democratic, and this was the result. Never for a +moment had the girls and boys of the Hill section dreamed +that a committee would dare to choose a River-section +president.</p> +<p>To be sure, the girl whom they had chosen had led the +class both in marks and in the debating club. Yes, she +could make a splendid Commencement Day speaker, but +she was a River-section girl, and they just wouldn’t +have it.</p> +<p>So they argued and pleaded and tried to persuade their +friends to make her fail the election. Why, there would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +be no fun at all during Commencement week if she led +the class. She had nothing at all to spend for fun.</p> +<p>Chief among the objectors had been Mary Waite. +Her father owned the largest mill and she had thought +surely the place was to be hers. She had even planned +how she would entertain the class on the lawn of her +home. She was ready to do almost anything to upset the +plans of the nominating committee.</p> +<p>So the group of girls were still scolding when they +reached the door of the museum about four o’clock on +Thursday afternoon. Mary had an errand in the picture +gallery and the rest were to wait for her in the corridor +below.</p> +<p>As she entered the gallery, she pulled from her book +the assignment which had been given to her:</p> +<p>“Study the pictures in Gallery Nine and bring the name +and the artist of the picture that speaks most plainly to +you.”</p> +<p>What an assignment! How could any picture speak to +her when she was feeling in such an unpleasant mood. +She passed down one side and then along the end of the +gallery. She liked the children in this and the flowers in +that. But surely none would speak to her.</p> +<p>Down another side she went, stopping more often to +look at the things that interested her.</p> +<p>Suddenly she saw a picture of the Christ. It was at +the end of the gallery, and a wonderful light was thrown +on it from a globe just above the picture. The Christ was +standing in a room and in his face was such a tender, +thoughtful look.</p> +<p>Mary sat down in the seat nearest to her. She did not +want to move nearer lest she lose the rare expression of +the face of the Christ. It had only been a few weeks since +she had been standing before the altar of the church, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +making herself a gift to the Christ. So as she sat and watched +the picture, she thought to herself:</p> +<p>“What a wonderful man he was! I should have loved +to have had him look in my face as he is looking into +theirs. I wish I might have really seen him.”</p> +<p>After a time she moved nearer. Then she could see the +faces of the other persons in the picture. From where +she had been sitting, only the face of the Christ had +seemed to stand out, though one knew the others were +there. They were sitting about the table in a home.</p> +<p>What a rude table it was! How roughly they were +dressed! Why, they were only poor people, yet the Christ +was standing in their midst, giving them to eat.</p> +<p>She studied his face. How beautiful it was! How +much she loved him! How eager she was to give him her +very best! What could she do to show her love? And +as she looked she heard a voice saying to her: “The +poor ye have always with you, but me ye have not always.”</p> +<p>Then somehow the faces of the men in the picture +seemed like those of the men who worked in her father’s +mill and in the face of the woman she saw a likeness +to Elizabeth Meeker. But the face of the Christ was still +full of love and tenderness.</p> +<p>The head of the girl drooped as she sat long before the +picture. What had she against Elizabeth Meeker? Nothing +except the fact that she was poor. She was a girl +that Jesus would have loved, for she was always dependable. +Yet Mary was trying to take away the greatest +pleasure that might ever come to that poor girl.</p> +<p>She had no pretty home, she had little time for play; +she hadn’t even a mother. Yet Mary knew she had been +very, very unkind to her.</p> +<p>And now the face of the Christ seemed searching her +very soul: “The poor ye have always with you, but me +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +ye have not always. Inasmuch as ye have done it unto +one of the least of these, ye have done it unto me.”</p> +<p>There was a sound of a bell and Mary knew she must +leave the room. One last look she gave to the Christ of +the picture. Then she smiled and nodded her head.</p> +<p>When she came to join the girls below, she said quietly:</p> +<p>“Girls, let’s give the school a surprise to-morrow. Let’s +go and vote for Elizabeth Meeker, since so many of the +class want her for president, and then prove to the rest +that we can still have a good time during Commencement +week. Father will let us use the grounds when we like +and we can all have a part in the planning of the fun. I +should just like to see if she really can make a class +president as well as we girls from the Hill.”</p> +<p>And though the girls couldn’t understand why she had +changed, yet they were glad to follow her lead.</p> +<p>That night Mary Waite sat before her desk in her pretty +room on the Hill and looked again at the assignment +which had been given to her—</p> +<p>“Study the pictures in Gallery Nine and bring to me +the name of the picture and the artist who painted the +one that speaks most plainly to you.”</p> +<p>And in no uncertain letters she wrote:</p> +<div class='ce'> +<p>Christ in the Home of the Lowly.</p> +<p>By L’Hermitte</p> +</div> + +<div class='ra'> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Mary Waite.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='THE_QUEST' id='THE_QUEST'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +<h2>THE QUEST</h2> +</div> + +<p>Once there came to the land of the Every-day a messenger +from the King. In his hand he carried +glasses to help him in the search which he was making. +Under his arm he was carrying a scroll. On his face +there was a look of deep concern.</p> +<p>How could he ever find the most beautiful thing in all +the world? There were so many beautiful things that +he had no idea even where to begin. Yet this was his +commission: “Of all the beautiful things, choose for me +the most beautiful.”</p> +<p>So the messenger called for heralds and sent them +forth to ask of the people of the Every-day their help in +choosing for the King.</p> +<p>“Bring to me your most beautiful thing,” he said. +“Then I will choose from these things what I deem most +beautiful.”</p> +<p>And one brought a wonderful gem. It was clear as +crystal; it sparkled in the light and seemed to beg to be +chosen. The rays of the noonday sun shone through +the stone and all the people cried with one voice:</p> +<p>“How beautiful! How wonderful! We have never +seen the like!”</p> +<p>“Surely,” thought the messenger, “I shall never find +anything so rare as this. I will take it to the King.”</p> +<p>But a voice cried: “Wait, oh, messenger, wait! That +which is dead can never be the most beautiful thing. +Surely I have here that which far exceeds the stone which +you have seen. I beg you look at this.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span></p> +<p>Then he opened the cover of the great box that he +carried.</p> +<p>In a bed of shimmering white there lay a beautiful +rose. Its leaves were still wet with the dew of the garden. +Its petals were as perfect as perfect could be. Then +as the sun shone into the box, the exquisite rose caught +also the rays of the sun and slowly the beautiful petals +began to unfold.</p> +<p>There was silence in the group of people about the +box. What a wonderful thing the man had brought to +the messenger! It had beauty, but it had also life.</p> +<p>Yet even as they looked there came another. By his +side walked a great dog. His hair was like silk; his eyes +were tender as a child’s; his face was as knowing as a +person’s. Quietly his owner brought him forward, saying: +“This is to me far more beautiful than the rose. +This has beauty and life, but it has also usefulness. It +has saved the lives of many.”</p> +<p>And he patted the head of the faithful animal.</p> +<p>Then a mother pressed through the crowd and said: +“Surely no animal is so beautiful as a child. See! here +is my little one. She has beauty and life and usefulness—and +she has also the magic beauty of innocence. See +her hands, and her little feet, and her golden curls. I +am sure there is no more beautiful thing in all the world +than my baby.”</p> +<p>Then the messenger sighed. What could he do? He +just could not find the thing that the King had asked him +to find. All were so beautiful. Thinking to be by himself, +he walked away. Into a path alone by himself he +went.</p> +<p>Then he heard voices, and, brushing aside the branches, +he saw a young maiden who played with a little child. +Her touch was very tender as she played the childish +game. And when they had finished, the messenger held +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +his breath, for the child had thrown a tiny arm about +her neck and the yellow curls of the baby were close to +the brown ones of the maiden. And the maiden’s face +was wreathed in a wondrous smile.</p> +<p>“That is beauty,” said the messenger. “That is rare +beauty. But why is she so beautiful? I must see.”</p> +<p>Quickly he unfastened the glasses from their case and +turned them to the picture before him. Then, because +they were magic glasses used only by the King, he could +see why she was beautiful.</p> +<p>In her mind he found clean thoughts; in her life he +found kind deeds; in her soul he found a high ideal; in +her heart he found a mother-love for little children.</p> +<p>Then the messenger took from his arm the scroll which +he carried and with his stylus he wrote these words:</p> +<p>“In all the world I find no more beautiful thing than a +maiden who is reaching toward life’s highest goal—a +noble womanhood—with love to show her the way.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='THE_TREASURE' id='THE_TREASURE'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +<h2>THE TREASURE</h2> +</div> + +<p>Four girls they were—four laughing girls from the +High School. For three happy years they had +studied together and played together. But now Ambition +had whispered to them. To each the message had been +the same:</p> +<p>“Hidden in the way that is ahead you will find a treasure. +It is of all treasures most valuable. It will bring +to you comfort and happiness all the days of your life. +Seek and ye shall find.”</p> +<p>And at once they began to wish to find the treasure. +Not to each other even did they tell the secret that Ambition +had whispered, for then another might find the +treasure. Each in her own way began to seek, and for a +time their paths still led in the same direction.</p> +<p>But one bright, beautiful day they came to a place +where the ways parted. Many roads led from the one +road and on every road there were many people. Now +what should be done? In which way was the treasure to +be found? If one chose the wrong way, one might never +find it.</p> +<p>There was little time to stand and think, for the crowds +pressed on behind, always urging them forward. Into +one they must go at once.</p> +<p>“Surely this is the road,” said the first, looking down a +beautiful, long roadway. “One would certainly find something +worth while in such a beautiful place as this. Here +are lights and music; here are songs and merriment; here +are people who seem as happy as the day. I shall enter +here, and after I have danced and played with the brightly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +dressed girls whom I see, I shall hunt diligently for the +treasure.”</p> +<p>So she entered the way of Pleasure and, because there +was time for naught else but play, her days passed and +she found it not.</p> +<p>“That road does not appeal to me,” said the second. +“The red of the lights, the noise of the music, the laughter +of the people seem annoying to me. I do not care to go +with you longer. I like this yellow way. There must be +a great sun to light the way, for it is so beautiful. Here, +too, every one is searching, so I am sure they must have +knowledge that the treasure is here. I will enter and +find it.”</p> +<p>Then she, too, entered the way of her choice and it was +the way of Gold. All about her were traces of treasure, +but there were many who pushed her aside. She grew +weary with her search; she liked little the people who were +her companions in the way, and she found there no treasure +that brought comfort and happiness all her days.</p> +<p>“I like little those long, uninteresting roadways where +it all is glitter and noise,” said the third. “I like little the +great crowds of people. I shall take this hilly road where +few are working. They seem eager to reach the top. +Now all treasure is hidden in the hillsides. I shall climb +here and search.”</p> +<p>So she entered the way of Fame. It was very steep; at +first it seemed that she could find no place to put even one +foot. She must cling to very uncertain bits along the way +to help her to move up, yet little by little she climbed. It +took years and years, and one by one her companions +dropped by the way. Those who also neared the top had +little of companionship for her. They envied her her footholds; +they tried to get ahead of her in the way. Then +she knew that she could never find the Great Treasure, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +for she was lonely, and a lonely heart is never satisfied +and happy.</p> +<p>“Which shall I choose?” said the fourth girl, looking +all about her. “I think I shall try this”—but just then a +voice said: “I am tired and ill. Will you help me a bit +in my way?”</p> +<p>’Twas an old, old man. His clothes showed signs of +travel and his face was very sad. Taking his hand, she +led him for a time till he came to a resting place.</p> +<p>Then she was about to go back and choose her road, but +a child’s voice said: “Won’t you help me up this hill? +I fall back when I try to climb.” And she went still farther +into the way.</p> +<p>And then, when the child had been given over to his +mother, a boy needed help in carrying a load, and as she +talked with him she forgot the other road and began to see +the beautiful things ahead in the road over which she +was traveling.</p> +<p>There were flowers to pick and give to the sad; there +were cooling springs where one could find cups of water +for the weary; there were resting places under the trees +to which one could lead the aged. And she had forgotten +that she came to seek for a treasure for herself in her +happiness in helping others.</p> +<p>So the days passed, filled to the brim with loving, helping +deeds. The music which she heard was the song of +the birds; the beautiful colors to cheer came in the +flowers and in the sunset; the hills in the way were easily +climbed, for there was much of friendship as she toiled +upward.</p> +<p>One day in her path she saw a bent old lady in whose +one hand was a book and in whose other hand was a +basket. She seemed heavily loaded and the girl hastened +to help her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span></p> +<p>“Let me carry your basket,” she said cheerily. “Put +the book on the top and I can take them both.”</p> +<p>Then a smile came over the face of the woman as she +said: “The basket seems to be heavy, for in it is a great +treasure. But he that hath this treasure finds no difficulty +in carrying it. It is yours, child—all yours. Let +me read to you from the book.”</p> +<p>Very slowly she opened the great book and read: +“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of +these, ye have done it unto me.”</p> +<p>Then the gray cloak fell aside and her raiment was +shining as the sun. Her beautiful face grew more beautiful +as she handed the basket to the girl, saying:</p> +<p>“’Tis the command of our King—to him that hath +shall be given and he shall have abundance! Take your +treasure—the love of the people along the way, but take +also the gift of the King—comfort and happiness all the +days of your life. For you entered the way of Love to +seek for your treasure and where Love is, there God is +also.”</p> +<div class='ce' style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-top:2em;'> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIRESIDE STORIES FOR GIRLS IN THEIR TEENS***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 27343-h.txt or 27343-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/7/3/4/27343">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/3/4/27343</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Fireside Stories for Girls in Their Teens + + +Author: Margaret White Eggleston + + + +Release Date: November 27, 2008 [eBook #27343] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIRESIDE STORIES FOR GIRLS IN +THEIR TEENS*** + + +E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +FIRESIDE STORIES FOR GIRLS IN THEIR TEENS + +by + +MARGARET W. EGGLESTON + +Instructor in Story Telling, School of Religious +Education and Social Service, Boston University + +Author of "The Use of the Story in Religious Education," Etc. + + + + + + + +New York +George H. Doran Company + +Copyright, 1921, +by George H. Doran Company + +Printed in the United States of America + + + + +TO THE GIRLS OF +KEEWAYDIN CAMP FIRE +OF CLEVELAND +AND +ICACAYA CAMP FIRE +OF BOSTON + + + + +FOREWORD + + +"Given a Camp-fire, a group of friendly girls and a good story-teller who +knows and loves the girls, and the ideals of a whole community may be +lifted in a night." + +The teen age girl is a great problem and at the same time a great +opportunity. Her ideals seem low, yet there is no time in her life when +she will more gladly follow a great ideal. She seems fickle, yet she is +putting her friends to a test that is most worth while. She is +misunderstood and she can not understand herself. She is searching for +something, yet she does not know what it is. + +Her problems are many, and most of them she must solve alone. If she +follows the crowd and goes in the way of least resistance, there is a big +chance that she will fall by the way. If she does not follow the crowd, it +is because somewhere, some time, she has found a compelling ideal and is +following it. Sometimes that ideal comes to her in the form of a friend. +Sometimes she is fortunate enough to have found that ideal in her mother. +But often and often it comes to her through a little story that lives with +her, and works for her, and helps her to hold to the best, in spite of the +manifold temptations to do otherwise. + +Recently I met a young woman whom I had seen only once and that was twelve +years ago. She came to me after a service and said, "Will you tell Van +Dyke's 'Lump of Clay' to-night? Twelve years ago I heard you tell it. I +was so discouraged at the time, for everything seemed going wrong and life +seemed so useless. But I dropped into a church and heard you tell the +story. You have no idea what it has done for me. I am teaching in the +college near by and I should like to have my girls hear the story. Perhaps +they need it as I did." + +Many of the workers with girls have seen this need and have wanted to meet +it and yet have been unable to find the story that was needed by the girl. +It is because of this very need in my own work that I am sending out these +stories, most of which I have told over and over to my girls. Many of them +have been written because of special problems that needed to be +met--problems peculiar to adolescence--problems found in every class and +club of girls the country over. + +The stories are not to amuse, for we have no time to amuse girls in the +story hour. We have little enough time, at the best, for implanting ideals +and every story hour should leave a vital message. That is the thing the +girls want and why should we give them less. + +The stories are not to be read. They need the personal touch, the +sympathetic voice, the freedom of eye that tells the story-teller which +girls are finding the message of the story. Some of them will hurt--but +experience has shown me that these are the very ones that one has to tell +over and over. Can you imagine the Master reading to the groups gathered +about him the stories that you and I love to read in his word? When you go +into the heart life of a girl, let all your personality help you to carry +the message. It was the Master's way of story-telling. + + "'Twas only a little story, + Yet it came like a ray of light; + And it gave to the girl who heard it + Real courage to do the right." + + + + +CONTENTS + + PAGE + I Would Be True 15 + The Appeal to the Great Spirit 22 + A Parable of Girlhood 29 + The House of Truth 32 + Marked for a Mast 39 + Her Need 44 + The Message of the Mountain 47 + The Winning of an Honor 51 + Daddy Gray's Test 56 + Wanted--A Real Mother 61 + The Fir Tree and the Willow Wand 69 + The Two Searchers 73 + Why Elizabeth Was Chosen 77 + Janie's School Days 81 + Self-Made Men 89 + On The Road to Womanhood 92 + Her Prayer 97 + The Best Day 105 + In the Way 108 + An Old, Old Story 114 + His Debt 119 + How Kagigegabo Became a Brave 123 + The White Flower of Happiness 129 + The Speaking Picture 134 + The Quest 138 + The Treasure 141 + + + + +FIRESIDE STORIES FOR GIRLS IN THEIR TEENS + + + + +I WOULD BE TRUE + + +'Twas a beautiful day in the late fall and the roadside was lined with the +late asters and goldenrod. The sun was shining so brightly and the sky was +as blue as a New Hampshire sky could be, yet the girl, walking along the +winding, climbing road, saw none of them. The little brook by the roadside +whispered and chattered as it ran along, yet she did not hear; a few late +birds still twittered to her from the trees, but she did not notice; a +chipmunk called to her from a dead tree by the roadside, but she paid not +the least attention. She was alone with her thoughts and they were far +from pleasant. + +How different it all seemed from what it had seemed six months before! +Then she had stood in the office of a great doctor in Philadelphia and +heard him say to her father, "Unless you leave the city at once and go +where there is pure air and simple food and real quiet, there is no help +for you." + +The father had looked at the doctor for a moment in silence and then +answered, "Well, if that is the case, I am sorry, for I cannot leave the +city. My business needs me; Katherine is in college and she must be here. +I shall stay." + +But with flashing eyes the girl had stepped to the doctor and said, +"Father is mistaken, doctor. His business can do without him and there is +no need at all why he should stay here for me. There is a dear little old +place in the hills of New Hampshire that belongs to us, where grandfather +used to live. We can go there and have all the things that you have said +he must have. You may leave the matter with me. We shall be out of the +city within two weeks." + +Then turning to her father she had put her arms about his neck and said, +"Of course we can go, daddy, for what is college and money and friends +compared with your health? Gladly will I give them up for you. We shall +have a wonderful time there in the hills--just you and mother and I." + +So they had come. Then it was early in the spring and the country was +beginning to show green. Into the little old farmhouse under the hill they +moved. Of course there were no electric lights, and no telephones, and no +faucets out of which the water could be drawn. But there were the quaint +old candle holders on the big mantels; there was the fireplace so large +that a log could be drawn into it; there was a well in the yard with water +as cold as ice. And outside the home--oh, there were the most wonderful +things to see. The trailing arbutus trailed everywhere; the lady slippers +grew even in the front dooryard. The old trees in the yard were soon +filled with nesting birds; the apple and pear trees in bloom were a sight +never to be forgotten. + +So the days fled by and the little family under the hill were so happy to +see the color coming back to the face of the sick one and the smile once +more on his face. Katherine loved it all--the home--the flowers--the +mountains and even the quiet of the little hamlet. + +Then the summer had come and with it the stream of visitors who come +every year to the New Hampshire mountains. Within a short distance of the +home were large hotels, and the guests soon learned of the cool water in +the well in front of the house; of the father who was such a pleasant +companion; of the pretty girl who could sing, and climb, and play so well. +So there had been picnics, and parties, and auto rides, and the summer had +fled. + +And when the people had gone, there were the wonderful colors in the +trees, the gorgeous sunsets in the sky, the fun of the harvest time and +still the life in the country was full of wonder and satisfaction. + +But now--oh, now the days had begun to grow cold, the trees were bare, the +birds had flown to the south, and her friends had all gone away. Here and +there a family was left in the farmhouses that dotted the little, winding +road but none of them were people for whom she cared. And so as the days +had come and gone, there had crept into the heart of the girl a loneliness +that would not be forced down, a longing that she could not stifle, a +dissatisfaction that grew with the days. + +How could she pass the long winter nights that were ahead? How could she +stay away from the friends who were gathering at the college? How could +she live without her piano? How could she keep a smile so that the dear +ones at home would not see how unhappy she was becoming? The house seemed +so big and bare; the trees in the yard seemed to sigh instead of sing; the +way ahead seemed full of blackness. She longed for all that had gone; she +longed for her friends, especially the one who had been her ideal during +her college days; she longed to run back to him for always. + +But on this October morning, she had risen early to keep the quiet hour +before the rest were up. Usually she read in the gospels, but this +morning her Bible opened to the Psalms and she read, "I will lift up mine +eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the +Lord who made heaven and earth." She stopped and looked from the window at +Mt. Kearsarge in the distance. + +Then she read again, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence +cometh my help." "Ah!" said the girl, "I need help. God knows I need help. +I wonder if there is any help for me. 'I will lift up mine eyes unto the +hills from whence cometh my help.' Perhaps if I should go out into the +hills for the day, God would help me. I think I will try it." + +To the mother she had said, "I think I should like to go for a long walk +to-day if you do not mind. I feel like having a tramp," and then with +lunch box in hand and book under her arm, she had started. + +As long as father and mother could see, she had smiled and waved to them, +but when the turn in the road had come, the light faded from her eyes and +her problem was still before her. The night before had been endless, yet +there were longer ones to come. No wonder she saw no sunshine, heard no +bird and saw no brook as she walked along the country road. + +On and on she went; mile after mile was put behind her, till the sun was +high in the heaven and she was weary and hungry. Then a sudden turn in the +road brought her to the foot of a little lake--one of those mountain lakes +that make New Hampshire so beautiful. All around it were hills; the water +was very, very blue and its surface was as calm as could be. A +moss-covered stone was very near and the girl sank beside it and, leaning +her head on her hand, she looked at the quiet waters. + +"Ah!" she said to herself, "how I wish my life were as calm as the lake. +One would never dream that it ever were rough and troubled. I wish God +could send peace to me as He sends it to the little lake." + +Her eyes wandered to the shores and then to the hills about the lake. How +beautiful the tall pines and spruces were! How fragrant the resinous +balsams! How bleak and cold the trees with no leaves! + +Then her eyes turned to the top of the hills when suddenly--it seemed as +if by magic--there stood out before her, as if outlined in the sky, the +giant face of a man. What could it be? Had it been carved there? How +strong and noble the face seemed to be! How had it come to be there at the +very top of the hill? Then she remembered a story she had heard when first +she had come to the valley. This must be the "Old Man of the Mountain." +For centuries and centuries he had stood here guarding the little lake. + +When the wonder of finding the Great Stone Face had passed by, she studied +it. The forehead was high and the face of noble mien. The mouth showed +much of strength. It was a face one would like to see often. God had put +it there--the God who made the heaven and earth. Then there came to her +mind again the verse of the morning, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the +hills from whence cometh my help." Perhaps the Old Man of the Mountain +could help her. He had stood here for years and years. He must know what +it meant to be weary with the long days and the longer nights. He must +have seen the multitude pass by and still leave him in the mountains. +Perhaps he would understand how lonely and full of unrest she was. + +So leaning her head on the moss-covered stone, she said dreamily, "Old Man +of the Mountains, if you were I and were longing to go back to your work +and your friends, if you were afraid of the long winter that is coming, if +you had a duty to do right here when you longed to be there, if you had a +father who needed you and a mother who is brave as can be, and still there +burned within you the longing to get back to the others, what would you +do? Are you never weary with it all? Do you never long to run away from +your task that God has given you to do? Are you never discontented? Oh, +Old Man of the Mountain, if you were I and had my burden to carry, what +would you do?" + +A silence was everywhere as she listened for his answer. Not a bird sang, +not a ripple crossed the lake. For a moment she watched the face--then +another, and then she was sure that she saw the face begin to relax. A +sign of a twinkle came across the great stone eyes and the lips smiled as +there came to her heart this answer: + +"Oh, little girl from the city with a burden to carry! What would I do if +I had a father who was surely growing strong and a mother who had smiled +through the days of the sickness? What would I do if I longed to go back +to the life of pleasure and happiness when my duty lay here? What would I +do if I had forgotten the books that might be read during the long winter +nights for which there had been no time in the city; the lessons of +patience and loyalty that might be learned in doing the hard thing; the +happiness of really being needed? What would I do if I were you and were +lonely and discouraged and heartsick? + + I would be true, for there are those that trust me; + I would be pure, for there are those who care; + I would be strong, for there is much to suffer; + I would be brave, for there is much to dare. + + I would be friend of all--the foe, the friendless; + I would be giving, and forget the gift; + I would be humble, for I know my weakness; + I would look up, and laugh, and love, and lift.[A] + +"Aye, little girl from the city, I would go back into the little home +under the hill with all its comfort, and home-likeness, and wealth of +love, and I would look up to God for help; I would laugh at the hard +things and help them to vanish from sight; I would love the dear ones who +are dearer to you than life itself; and I would lift, not only their +burden, but that of others who need you in this beautiful valley." + +Slowly the face was again set into the lines that others saw and the head +of the girl dropped deeper into the moss. For a long time there was no +sign that she had heard. Then she lifted a face, full of light, to that of +the Old Man of the Mountain. + +"Thank you, my friend," she said. "I have lifted my eyes unto the hills +and help has come. I will go back to the little white house and, with +God's help, I will look up, and I will laugh, and I will love, and I will +lift." + +So she ate her lunch by the calm, little mountain lake and the tiny +breezes whispered in her ears. Then she walked again the winding road that +led down to the home. But the sky was blue and full of beauty; the birds +heard an answering call; the little brook gave her to drink, and the +chipmunk found on his stump a little piece of the cake from the box. Her +face was smiling and her heart full of courage, for she had looked unto +the hills--and God had answered. + +----- + + [A] Poem by Harold Arnold Walter. + + + + +THE APPEAL TO THE GREAT SPIRIT + + +Owaissa, the Indian Squaw, sat before the tepee watching little Litahni +play with the colored stones. The child was the idol of the tribe, for was +not her father the great chief Black Hawk who had done so much for his +people? So, lest anything should happen to the little one, Owaissa made it +her chief task to be where the child was and to teach her the things she +wanted her to know. + +Three years before, the good missionary who was leaving the encampment had +said to Owaissa, "Soon there will come to your tepee a little child. +Should it be a little girl, teach her to see herself in the things about +her, so that the birds, and the trees, and the flowers, and the winds may +all help her to grow true and fine, even as they help the young braves to +grow brave and strong. The girls of your Indian tribes are not given half +a chance to see the helpers all about them. Teach her to see, as I have +taught you to see, what a woman can do." + +And the words of the missionary had burned into the very soul of Owaissa. +Her child should have a chance. So when the little girl had come to her +wigwam, she had named her Litahni--a little light--and she had sought for +ways to help her to see what nature meant that man should see. + +"Catch a little raindrop," she said to the little girl as she played near +the wigwam. "Every raindrop helps some plant, even though it is so little. +You are tiny, too, but you can help every day just as the raindrop does." + +"See the beautiful sunset," she said to the older girl, as they tramped +home from gathering the wood for the fire. "The colors are creeping all +over the sky. We see the sunset here and we are happy because it is so +beautiful, but away over the mountains in the far away the sunset is just +as beautiful and they are happy there as they see it. You can bring +happiness, too, both here and far away, if your life is beautiful. + +"Listen to the wind in the trees," she said to the girl of fourteen who +was eager to do that which father wanted her to leave undone. "You cannot +see the wind, yet it sways the great trees and sometimes fells them. You +can bend the will of the strong men of the tribe but you cannot do it by +talk and by ugly words. Learn to bend by gentleness and quietly. Learn to +steal into their lives as the wind steals through the trees." + +When the girl was sixteen, the young men of the tribe were beginning to +love her and to want to take her to their wigwams. Then the mother knew +she must show her how to choose. So she sought for ways to help her as +they hunted the mountains for the wild berries. Often they sat by the +lakeside for their midday meal. Sometimes it was rough and sometimes +calm. + +"See, daughter," said Owaissa. "The little lake is very rough to-day. +Sometimes our lives are like the little lake. Not always are they calm. +Storms sweep over the life. But take the lesson from the lake. Be +beautiful through it all. Down beneath the surface, the water is calm and +untroubled even though the white caps are above." + +Once they were caught in the mountains in a terrific storm. Litahni crept +close to the mother when the thunder rolled loud and long, but she loved +to see the long streaks of lightning flash across the sky. + +Then Owaissa said, "The thunder cannot hurt you, dear. Seldom does that +which comes with a big noise do the harm, for one can run from it and be +safe. Fear that which comes silently and swiftly and which strikes at the +heart. The lightning yonder is far from us but it may strike at the heart +of a giant pine and fell it to the ground. That which should have stood +long and sturdy is then rendered useless and laid low." + +With the coming of the winter the good squaw died and there were evil days +ahead for the Black Hawk tribe. They were having quarrels with the white +men, and the chief was very busy. So Litahni was left much alone and the +days were long and lonely. Now she was glad for all that her mother had +taught her, for the birds, and the flowers, and the trees, and the animals +all helped her to pass the days and they spoke to her of the things that +her mother had taught her. She tried hard to help her father, and often +she knew that she had helped him, but she longed to do more. + +"No squaw has ever done it, but I believe I can. I shall teach my people +to love the white man's God, for then we should not have wars and +quarrels," said the girl. + +So she taught the little children; she told stories to the squaws and she +won the confidence of the young men of the tribe who would soon be in the +council fires. And all the tribe loved Litahni, the beautiful daughter of +Black Hawk and Owaissa. + +One day, across the plain, there came a white man. He was tall and dark +and sturdy-looking. He had education and he could talk well. Litahni saw +much of him for a few days and she came to honor the white man as she +listened to him drive the bargains for the furs and the blankets and the +baskets. + +Now, as the white man watched the little Indian teacher, he saw how far +above the tribe she was. He loved her pretty face, her sweet way and her +gentle spirit. Then the white man wanted to win the Indian girl. In the +far East, he had left a girl who loved him but he wanted the Indian +girl,--so he began silently to make love to her. Of course he knew that +her father would never consent. He knew that he would be driven from the +encampment if ever they found what he was doing, so hastily and quietly he +worked to win her. + +He told her of the wonderful land from which he had come; of the beautiful +houses in which his friends lived; of the lives of ease which they lived; +then he told her of his love for her and begged her to flee with him to +his land and his people. To Litahni, it was all so wonderful that she +listened happily. How she would love to see it all! If she went there, she +could see again the missionary of whom the mother had told her so often. + +And when he had finished, she told him of her dreams--how she wanted to +help the tribe to learn to love the great God, and to make the tribe of +Black Hawk the finest tribe in all the land around. + +But when she, too, had finished, he loved her all the more for her +beautiful wish, so he held her closely to him and said: + +"But, Litahni, to love and to be loved is a far greater happiness than to +lift, or to bend, or to lead the tribe. Leave that to your father. All +these things you can do to me and to my people. Would you waste your life +here on the plains? Think what I can give you. Your mother longed to go +beyond the mountains into the sunrise. Come with me and I will take you +there. To love and to be loved is the best that ever comes into a life. +And I love you, Litahni! Why should you think of your father? He has many +things to think of and has little time for you. I will make you my queen. +To-morrow I must go. So to-night, I shall come for my answer after the +sun has set. Meet me, dear, by the giant tree near the spring and we will +go together. The train leaves not long after the sunset and I will have a +horse at the spring on which we can get to the train. Come with me, dear. +Forget your people and be my Litahni." + +There was a noise near by--and the white man was gone. But Litahni sat +deep in thought. While he had been with her, she longed to go with him. +But as she sat now and looked down into the valley at the encampment, she +was not so sure. Her mind was all awhirl. Was this the way to happiness? +What would mother have said? She wanted her to have the best, but what was +the best? It was only a few hours till the sunset and what should she do? +Was there no one to help her? + +Suddenly from the roadway below she heard a neigh. It was Fleetfoot, and +he was tired of being tied to a sapling. Now Litahni loved Fleetfoot, her +horse, for they had grown up together, so she hurried to the tree where +she had left him, untied his bridle, jumped on his back and whispered, + +"Fly, Fleetfoot! Fly into the sunset. Go fast and go far and let me think +as we fly." + +Then the horse sped away toward the north. As they passed the little lake +in the valley it whispered, "Life is not always calm. There must be +tempests. But you can be calm in your inner life and you can be beautiful +through it all." + +Up the hill she went, and as the wind blew over her face it seemed to say, +"Why be bent? Why not bend?" At the top, looking far across a distant +plain, her mother's voice seemed to whisper, "Look far ahead, little girl. +Look far ahead. What seems wonderful may prove to be only a shadow." + +On they flew. The girl's face was flushed and thoughtful. Soon she must +turn if she would be at the meeting place. Where was Fleetfoot taking her? +Perhaps he knew best what she should do. + +Suddenly at a bend in the road Fleetfoot gave a great leap, startling the +girl and almost making her lose her balance. Across the path, a giant tree +had been felled by the lightning and there it lay, prone and helpless. + +Then she shuddered. "Fear that which comes quickly and silently and which +strikes at the heart." Only a week before she had not known the white +man--even now her father did not know that she knew him. Ought she to be +afraid? If she met him, it must be silently, in the cover of the dark. + +At last Fleetfoot stood, panting and breathless, on the great rock that +topped the cliff. Often had he come here with his mistress, so he waited +for her to dismount. The sky was aflame with color--all red and gold and +yellow. Far to the North there were blues and pinks. What a wonderful +sunset it was! Surely it must be the home of a great, great God. + +Litahni sat motionless for a time, drinking in all the glory of the scene. +Then she threw her arms high over her head and, lifting her face into the +sunset, she cried, + +"Oh, thou Great Spirit to whom my people have always prayed, though they +knew thee not as the great God; oh thou to whom my mother taught me to +pray, show me the way to happiness. I would my life should be as my mother +wished it to be--a little light. I would do my best in the right place. Is +love for the white man the way to happiness? Is it the way in which I +should go? Answer as by fire. I beg of thee. Answer me as by fire, oh, +thou great God of the Indian." + +Motionless the horse and his rider stood as the moments passed by, one, +two, three. The red of the sunset enfolded them and God was very near. + +Suddenly far to the south there rose a tiny black cloud. Very tiny it was, +yet it grew and it grew. It blotted out the red and then the yellow and +then the gold, and then the whole sky was dark and the wind blew chill. + +Slowly Litahni's arms relaxed and her head fell to the mane of the horse. +When she lifted it, her face looked tired and worn, but over it there was +a look of peace. Patting the mane of the horse, she said: + +"Thank you for bringing me here, Fleetfoot. The Great Spirit has answered +and I shall stay here with Father and with you. To love selfishly is to +blot out all the beautiful. He who would be my chief must not want me to +run away from helping and giving. He must help me to serve my people. The +Great Spirit has answered by fire and I am content. I will stay here and +serve my people in the way my mother taught me to do, and I will wait for +the one whom the Great Spirit will send to me some day to be my Chief." + +Then slowly Fleetfoot picked his way over the narrow trail in the +darkness, and, because it was late, the white man had come and gone away +alone. But Litahni, bending low over the couch where her father should +sleep, smiled as she stretched the skins in place for the night. Even as +the animals had given their skins that her father might be warm, so she +was ready to give her little light to make him happy and comfortable, even +as Owaissa, her noble mother, had done. + +And Litahni was content. + + + + +A PARABLE OF GIRLHOOD + + +Behold a girl went forth to walk on the highway leading to life. And as +she walked there grew up beneath her feet flowers of every kind and +color. + +"Ah!" she said, "I will gather a sheaf of flowers to carry with me, for +then, surely, I shall be welcome when I come to the gate at the end of +this way. I will gather what seemeth to me to be the most beautiful of all +the flowers that grow about me. They shall be my gift to the one who +guards the way." + +And as she plucked, the one that seemed to be most wonderful was the one +most bright, gleaming yellow as the sun. "It is yellow like gold," she +said. "If I come with the sign of gold, I shall be welcome. I will pluck +it everywhere I can and carry only yellow flowers." And soon her arms were +full, but somehow her fingers seemed hot and unpleasant and her arms were +heavy, so she dropped some by the way and carried only those that seemed +most desirable. + +But some were blue--blue as the sky. "Blue for blue blood," she said. +"Those of royal birth are always to be desired. I shall make my sheaf +largely of blue." So she added one here and another there till she was +satisfied that the sheaf would be of all the sheaves the most beautiful. +But the odor was sickening, and again one after another was dropped till +only a few remained. + +And some flowers there were in the path that were red. "One needs fewer of +these," she said, "but surely some must be red. I shall put red flowers +for courage where they shall be seen, for courage is of all the virtues +to be desired." But there were thorns on the red flowers and, try as she +would, she could not hide the thorns so that they might not pierce her +flesh. So there could be few of the red in the sheaf. + +Some plants there were that bore no blossoms but the leaves were +beautiful, so she added leaves of this and of that, even though she knew +that in some there was deadly poison. "I can hide it among the rest. It is +so beautiful that it must be a part of my sheaf," thought the girl. + +But along the way, there had been many flowers that had been passed +unnoticed. White they were. Often they were small but always they were +pure and sweet. Only once had she plucked one and then she had added it +because of its fragrance. "Oh, yes," she said, "I know white is for purity +but white flowers are old-fashioned. Of course I must have a few but many +would spoil my sheaf. It must be bright with color." + +So the days flew by and her sheaf was nearly complete. She had thought it +the most beautiful thing she could possibly make. But one day as she +walked, suddenly she saw, standing erect by the road, a beautiful, stately +lily. Its beauty startled her. She stooped to smell of its fragrance. Then +she glanced from it to the flowers in her sheaf. + +If she plucked the lily and tried to place it in the sheaf, its beauty +would be spoiled. What should she do? With all her heart she longed to +take the lily with her to the end of the way. Should she throw the rest +away? Would she be welcome with only the one flower? Long she hesitated. + +Then she laid the yellow, and the blue, and the red, and the rest aside +and carefully gathered it. So in her hand she carried the lily with the +petals of pure white and the heart of gold. + +And lo, she had come to the stile which endeth the way of girlhood. +There, standing guard over the way ahead, was a woman in white, holding by +the hand a tiny, little child. Looking straight into the eyes of the girl, +she said sweetly, + +"Welcome, my child, from the beautiful way of girlhood. What hast thou +brought as thy gift to coming generations?" + +Then the girl feared to answer. But she held the lily toward the little +child as she said, "I have brought purity and a heart of gold." + +"Thou hast done well," said the mother spirit. "Take thou the child as thy +reward. With this as thy gift, thou art worthy to enter the way of +motherhood. Lo, here are some of the flowers that were left by the way. +Well may they go with thee, for they are very beautiful. But the gift that +thou didst choose was far more valuable and beautiful than they. It was +the gift that the Great desire." + +Then the girl and the child went together into the new way. But the child +was carrying the gift and she smiled as she went. + + + + +THE HOUSE OF TRUTH + + +It was plain to be seen that Bess Keats was very much disturbed about +something. She sat in the couch hammock on the porch, talking to herself +and occasionally giving a sharp punch to the sofa pillow by her side. + +"Mother is so old-fashioned," she said to herself, "and she gets worse +every year. Last year she wouldn't let me wear the kind of dresses I +wanted to and I looked different from the rest of the girls all the year. +Then she wouldn't let me go camping with the party because only one mother +was going to take care of us. Surely one woman can take care of twenty +boys and girls. Of course I was glad I hadn't gone when they had the +accident and partly burned the cottage, but she wouldn't let me go just +because she had old-fashioned notions. Girls these days don't do as they +did when she was young. + +"I just can't see a reason in the world why I shouldn't invite Henry Mann +to take me to the leap-year party at the beach. Every girl in the crowd is +asking a fellow to take her. Of course if George were here, mother might +let me go with him; but he isn't and all the girls want Henry to go +because he spends his money in such a dandy way; so I said I would invite +him to take me, never thinking for a minute that mother would object. And +now she says, not only that I can't ask him, but that I can't go. Well, I +will, anyway. So there! I just will go." + +Then Bess pushed her head far down in the pillow to think out a way. If +grandmother were only alive she would help her. She had always found a +way to get what Bess wanted. But grandmother was dead and Bess must work +it out alone, so she began to think. + +Suddenly she heard a voice saying, + +"Why, Bessie dear, whatever is the matter? You look very unhappy. Tell me +all about it." + +And there was grandmother with the neat, black silk dress and the dainty +white collar, and even the pretty white apron that she used to wear. Oh! +Oh! how glad Bess was to see her! + +Hand in hand, they went away from the house to where the trees in the +orchard were bending with fruit, and, sitting there on a stone, Bess told +her all about her trouble. Whatever would the girls think of her when she +had promised to invite the boy they all wanted? And after she had told it +every bit, she squeezed grandma's hand very hard and said, + +"And now, Granny dear, you will help me, won't you? It is perfectly all +right to ask him for all the girls do it. I want him to take me." + +"Well, well, dear," said the grandmother, "if we find that it is all +right, I shall be glad to find a way to help you. But we must see. We must +see." + +"See what, grandmother?" asked the girl. "There is nothing to see." + +"Indeed there is, child," said Granny. "In times of trouble one must +always see the Truth. Then the way is easy. After I see the Truth, I shall +be able to tell what to do. Come and we shall soon find out. You see you +belong to my family and my family is proud of the fact that its girls have +all been ladies. So we must go to the keeper of the book and see what a +lady can do in this case." + +On and on they went till they came to a queer little old man standing +before a big, big book. Granny went daintily up to him and said, + +"Will you tell me if it is ever right for a young lady to ask a strange +young man to take her to a dance, and pay out his money for her, when he +has not even been to her home or met her mother? My grandchild says all +the girls do it, so I suppose it must be a new thing that has been written +in the book since I was a girl. I want her to be sure to be a lady, so +before I help her to ask the boy to take her, I want you to look for the +rule." + +The little old man began slowly to shake his head but he never said a +word. He just looked and looked and looked. His finger went up one page +and down another. Finally he looked straight at Bess and said to Granny, + +"Your granddaughter is mistaken. That is not done by ladies. It is not +here. It is not here." + +"Oh, you are old-fashioned just like my mother," began Bess. "It may not +be there but it is true just the same that all ladies do it nowadays." + +"Hush, child," said Granny. "What is written there is true--but it is only +half the truth even then. Let us go and see the rest. If it is right for +you to ask him, then let us see the truth about the boy. Is he one that +our family would like to have specially chosen for your friend? We must +know about him." + +"Oh, Granny, he is all right. He doesn't study much and he doesn't do what +mother believes is right on Sunday. But he has a car, and a motor boat, +and he is all right. Let me ask him," begged Bess. + +"Tut, tut, child," said Granny. "Perhaps you do not know. This is the +House of Truth and we can tell." + +Then they entered a very large house and Granny walked to a man who stood +near the door. + +"May I go to the M room?" she asked, with a smile. + +"I will show you the way, lady," said the man, and Bess noted how the man +had spoken the word "lady." Somehow every one knew as soon as they looked +at Granny that she was a lady. 'Twas very strange! + +Down a long hall they went and then they stood before a large wall of +mirrors. What a strange place this was! Before them in the mirror were +many, many men and boys, all struggling to get up a very steep hill. Some +had a few strings ahead of them to help them up and many, many strings +behind that were pulling them back to the foot of the hill. Others had +only a few in back and many in front. Some were hopelessly entangled and +seemed not able to move. Who were they and what were they doing? + +Curiosity led Bess to study the scene in front of her. On the very top of +the hill there was a bright sign, "Christian Manhood." This, then, was the +thing for which they were struggling. But what were the strings? She +pushed and reached but she just couldn't read the words. + +"Did you want to know the truth about a friend?" said a voice. "I will +gladly help you for you are young and need to know. I am old and to know +the truth may only make me more unhappy. Take my place." And she was given +a nearer stand. + +Now she could read the words on the strings that held the men back. One +said "Drink" and another "Bad Companions," and another "Bad Temper." Bess +was very much interested, so she began to study the faces of the men who +were pushing to the top. + +Why! Away up there with the first was George Meyer, her good friend from +childhood. He had many, many strings to help and only a few to hinder. And +there was Edward Mead. He was such a goody-goody at school that she +didn't care much for him. Why, he wouldn't whisper at all! + +Near the middle of the hill was Philip Marks. She knew him well and he had +many things to help and many to hinder but he was surely trying. But +Granny had brought her here to see the truth about Henry Mann. Was he +here? She hadn't seen him. + +First she searched among those near the top. He was such a bright boy when +out with the crowd and he had so many good things in his life that surely +he must be near the top. But he wasn't there. Neither was he near the +middle. Surely he must be there somewhere for his name began with M. +Finally she asked the man who had given her his place if he could see a +boy named Henry Mann on the hill. + +"I should say I could," was the answer. "There he is near the foot of the +hill, hopelessly entangled in his drawbacks. It isn't hard to find that +young man here." + +Sure enough, there he was and Bess's face grew very red as she saw all the +strings behind him. She was glad Granny had gone to sit down so that she +wouldn't see him. Perhaps she could read what some of his drawbacks were, +for he was quite near. There was, "Too much money," "Lazy," "Unkind to his +mother," "Little schooling," "Drinks and smokes and swears," "A friend of +careless girls".... + +Oh, dear! Bess didn't want to read any more. What a list he had! There +were one or two good strings but they could not do much against so many +others to pull him back. + +Up there very near to the top, George, her old friend, was moving on and +his face was so earnest. How different it looked as she compared him with +Henry at the foot! She had never known before that he was so handsome. +What were the strings that were pulling him forward? She leaned far +forward to see. Just then she heard Granny's voice close at her elbow. + +"Were you trying to look at George, Bess? He is a long way toward manhood, +isn't he? Suppose you use my little glass to help you." + +"Oh, now I can see," she answered. There is "A good mother," "A keen +mind," "A strong body," "Love of right and truth," "A good girl +friend".... + +"But, Granny dear," said Bess, "one of his helps is 'A good girl friend.' +Has George a girl? I thought he didn't care for girls." + +"This is the House of Truth, dear," said the old lady. "I think perhaps +that good girl friend means you, for you have been a good friend to him. +You know our family have always been proud of their education and their +habits of life. I am sure it must have been a good thing for George to +grow up all these years with a good chum like you. He must be a gentleman +if he would be fit to play with the daughter of a lady like your mother. +When I was here before, George had several other pull-backs, but I see he +has conquered them. But come, dear, it is time we were going if I am to +help you out of your difficulty. + +"Let me see, you wanted to ask Henry Mann to take you to a party at the +beach. Did you find him there? Do you think your mother will change her +mind when we tell her the truth about the new friend whom you wish to +make? If so, I am ready to try, even though I am not at all sure that a +lady does those things. But things change--things change very much and +perhaps you are right. What said the House of Truth? Shall we invite +him?" + +"Oh, Granny, never, never!" cried the girl. "I could never ask any one who +was known as the friend of careless girls. He has so many drawbacks--oh, +no, never." + +Just then a voice said, "Good evening, Miss Keats. I hope I haven't +disturbed your nap. One of the girls told me you were very anxious to see +me, so I came up." + +And there stood Henry Mann. + +For a moment the girl could not answer. The face that had looked so +handsome when it was pointed out to her on the street yesterday now looked +careless and insolent. She wanted to run away and not even answer. + +But just at that moment the door opened and her mother came out. She was +dressed so prettily and her voice was soft and sweet as she said, "I think +I haven't met you, but you must be one of my daughter's friends. Will you +be seated?" + +"A man must be a gentleman if he would be fit to play with the daughter of +a lady like your mother," thought Bess. + +Then she straightened her shoulders and, smiling, said, "Mother, this is +Henry Mann, of whom I spoke to you." + +Turning to the boy, who still stood at the top of the steps, she said, +"Thank you so much for calling, Mr. Mann. There has been a mistake. Mother +prefers that I should not go to the party at the beach and of course I +want to do as she thinks best. I am sorry to have made you this trouble. +Perhaps one of the other girls will be asked to fill my place so that you +can still be one of the party." + +Then Henry Mann tipped his hat and went down the street thinking how +beautiful the mother and daughter were. But Bess and her mother stood +there with their arms about each other, waiting for father to come home to +tea. And Bess was no longer unhappy. + + + + +MARKED FOR A MAST + + +Mary had just come from the little post-office in the town where she was +spending the summer, and in her hand she held a bunch of letters. Mail +time was the event of the day, and all the summer people flocked about the +office as soon as the little boat carrying the mail was heard blowing her +whistle below the bend. + +To-day Mary had been very impatient as the old postmaster had slowly +sorted the mail. She had watched him look carefully at one address after +another, and, knowing him as she did, she was sure that many in the town +would know by night how many interesting letters had come to people in the +town. She had been almost the first at the little window for her mail and +then had had to brave the laugh of the rest when Mr. Blake had said, + +"Here's your letter and it's a fat one that took four cents. My, but he +must like you." + +Mary had been waiting for this very letter because in the last one George +had said, "I have a big surprise in store for you but I can't tell you +yet--maybe in the next letter." + +So this long one must be the surprise. Eagerly she tore it open and read +the first two pages that told of things happening in the home town and +good times the young people were having. Then she read, + +"And now for my secret. You know we are going to our camp for a whole +month of fun in August. Mother likes you and you are such good company for +us all that she tells me to write in her name and ask you to spend the +first two weeks with us there. Don't say no for we--no, I--must surely +have you to share our good times." + +The first two weeks! Those were the weeks she had planned to go to the +conference and train for some special work for the church during the +coming winter. The church had said they would pay her expenses if she +cared to go, and already she had made application. Oh, dear! Now what +should she do? She had said to her pastor, "I want to go to the conference +more than anything I have ever wanted but I can't afford to go." Now she +wanted to go with her friends and she would have to say to him, "I want a +good time more than I want the conference." The conference would come +again the next year, but this invitation might never come again. + +To be sure, she had many, many good times. Maybe she would have a good +time at the conference. Which did she want the more? If she went with her +friends, she could not do the winter work at the church as it ought to be +done. But there was the last sentence. "We--no, I--must have you to share +our good times." That meant a lot to her as she read it. Should she go to +the conference or should she go to the camp? + +Mechanically she turned the other letters over. There was one from mother, +and one from a school friend, and a business letter--oh, here was a +correspondence card from Mrs. Lane, her teacher in the Church School. + +"Dear Mrs. Lane," thought Mary. "How I should love to see her! She was +going to Maine. I wonder if this little snapshot is a picture of some +pines where she is staying." + +After looking long at the beautiful, tall pines in the picture, she turned +to the card and read, + + "Dear Mary: + + "As we came up the beautiful Sebago Lake last week, I saw something + that reminded me of you so strongly that I must tell you of it. Away + off in the distance, we saw some wonderful pines that towered high + above the rest. They seemed so tall that we spoke to the pilot of the + boat about them and he told us this story about them. + + "'Years and years ago, before this land was settled by any but the + Indians, King George of England sent men to this country to look for + tall trees that would make good masts for his ships. They went up the + rivers and lakes looking everywhere for the special trees. Here on + these hills they found these great trees. So the men marked "K.G." on + the trees, charted them on a map which they carried, and went on + their way. But for some reason they were never cut and carried away + to be used on his ships. There they stand to-day, strong and + straight, marked for masts.' + + "After the old man had finished his story and had left us, I said to + my friend, 'Marked for a mast because it is straight and strong. I + have a girl who also is marked for a mast and some day she will carry + with her, under her colors, many boys and girls. We are sending her + to the leaders' conference this summer so that she may begin to make + ready for her work.' Mary, dear, it is wonderful to have been chosen + by the King of England and to have been marked for use with his + initials, but it is more wonderful to have been chosen by a greater + king and marked with his name. Perhaps you can guess what the mark I + see on you might be--It is C. L. Write and tell me all about the + conference, won't you? + + "Lovingly your friend, + + "Margaret Lane." + +'Twas a very thoughtful girl who went down the street. In one hand a long +letter and in the other a closely written card. The one said, "Come and +have a real jolly, good time." The other said, "Get ready for service." +Which should it be? + +As she sat in the hammock thinking of her good friend in Maine, there came +again to her mind the last night Mrs. Lane had been with them. They had +been talking over plans for the summer and Mrs. Lane had quietly said, "I +like to think that a good time is one which you carry with you and which +means more to you as the weeks go by than it did when you were enjoying +it." Which good time would she carry with her longer? Which would make of +her the finer girl? Which did she want most to carry with her? And as she +thought, the way became clearer. + +Finally she went to her room and returned in a few minutes with a writing +case and pen. + + "Dear George," she began. "Weren't you good to ask me to go with the + family to the camp! I can't think of any camp where I would enjoy + myself more and I surely appreciate the invitation. But I can't + accept it this time for that is the time set for the conference to + which I am really going this year. Our church has made it possible + for me to go, and I know it will do much in getting me ready to be of + help to those who have helped me so much. I shall have so much more + to give when I have studied for the two weeks with those who know, + and have given their lives to the service of others. 'Tis an + opportunity that I couldn't miss--not even for two weeks with you + all. Thank you just the same." + +Mary read the letter, then as she sealed it, she said with a smile, +"Marked for a mast! Marked for a mast! Surely I mustn't bend or break if I +can be a mast some day and carry a king's colors. C. L.?... C. L.?... Ah, +I have it. 'Tis the word that Mrs. Lane uses so often--a Christian +Leader! 'Tis wonderful to have her think I have been chosen to bear such a +splendid name. I can hardly wait to meet the rest of the girls, who also +wear the mark of the King, who will be there at the conference. I may +be--oh, I hope I am--marked for a mast." + + + + +HER NEED + + +She was just a girl with a foreign name, a foreign face and a bit still of +a foreign dress. But she was a girl, just the same, and her face was full +of longing. Her home was near to a settlement where many girls came for +lessons and for play. But somehow they had never asked her to come, though +often she had sat on the steps at night where they must pass her. She had +seen them come with their arms about each other, talking and laughing and +singing--and when they had passed, she had gone to her lonely hall bedroom +and hidden her face in the pillow. + +Oh, no, she didn't cry. She was too brave to cry. She just suffered alone +and longed for help. + +It had been a year since she had left the home across the sea and had come +to join her father in the land where "work was plenty and friends were +easily made." But she had found her father living where she could not and +would not live. The friends he had made in America she could not and would +not have for hers. So when she had grown proficient enough in the factory, +she had gone to live in that loneliest of all lonely places--a boarding +house. + +The days had passed one by one. Some of the boarders called her fussy; +some said she was cold; some said she was "stuck-up" and none of them had +found that beneath the surface there was a sweet, gentle, lonely heart. + +Then came the strike--and she was out of work. In the bank she had a few +dollars but they had soon fled and now--oh, what could she do? The way was +so black ahead. She couldn't go to her father and his friends. What could +she do? + +The girls passed her as they went to the settlement house but no one +noticed her sad little face. So she slowly rose and wended her way down +the street. Out of the poorer section she went, then down a long avenue +till she came to a great church. The altar lights were lighted. All was +quiet and restful, so she sat, and looked, and listened for the still, +small voice that she longed to hear. + +A long, long time she sat there, counting her beads. Then she slowly rose +and entered the confessional, but when she came out there was still the +look of longing in her face. Toward the altar she went. Perhaps in the +communion she might find help for her troubled soul, and again she counted +her beads. + +But, somehow, there was no prayer on the beads that seemed just what she +wanted to say. Again, she went to the altar. But this time she lifted a +face, white with suffering and thin from lack of food, to the face of the +Christ above the altar and from the depths of her heart she prayed, + +"O God! My God! I do not ask for money, though I am hungry. I do not ask +for a home, though I am oh! so very lonely. I do not ask for work, though +I have none. For only one thing I ask. Give me a friend. Oh, give me a +friend! For Jesus' sake. Amen." + +Again she walked back through the avenue and down the narrow street to her +only home. The doors of the settlement were opened and the girls came out, +happy as birds in the springtime. Quietly she watched them as they came +nearer. Then suddenly one of them stopped. + +"Excuse me for speaking to you," she said, "but our guardian heard that +you lived in this house, so she asked us to come and invite you to come to +Camp Fire with us next Tuesday. We are to have a supper together so that +you will soon know us all and then we are to go for a hike together. Shall +we stop for you as we go?" + +For a moment she could not answer. In her throat was a lump so big that +she could not swallow. Then she said in a low, sweet voice, + +"Indeed I should like to go. Thank you for asking me." + +And the girls passed down the street, singing their Camp Fire song. + +But up in the little hall bedroom there was a girl with a foreign name, +and a foreign face, and a bit of a foreign dress. She was on her knees, +looking up at the heavens full of stars and over and over she was saying, +"Oh, I thank thee. I thank thee. I have a chance to be a friend." + +And her heart was content. + + + + +THE MESSAGE OF THE MOUNTAIN + + +"In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth."... "Lo, I am with +you alway, even unto the end of the world." These were the two sentences +that were neatly written on two pieces of paper on Marcia Loran's desk and +the girl sat looking at them while the minutes went steadily by. How could +they be? How could a power that made the earth be also in her life? How +could it be? + +Marcia had always been a reader of her Bible; she had always loved her +mother's God and she loved Him now, but she was longing for help and no +one seemed near to give it. And the reason for the need of this help was +easy to give. The new girl who had moved into the next room had been +laughing at her belief in God and Marcia knew no way to answer. She had +hoped that her course in Bible at college would help her but somehow she +seemed less able than ever to answer it now. + +Who was God? Where was God? How could she know that these two verses could +both be true? It was an honest doubt and she knew she must answer it +before her mind could be at rest. She felt she could never ask the +question in a letter to her mother, for mother must never know that she +was questioning. Oh, if only some one knew how much she needed help! + +But it was time for the picnic which the members of her class were to +have, so she slipped the papers again into her Bible and went to the +campus. They were to climb one of the mountains near by and dear old +Professor Hastings was to be their guide. Old in years but young in heart +and lithe still in limb, he stood out among the students as one of the +best of the companions. As they climbed, Marcia kept near to him. + +"I am looking," he said, "for a rare little flower which grows on this +mountainside. Perhaps you can help me find it. It is very tiny and it +grows in the crevice of the rock. But I am needing a specimen of it for my +collection." + +So together they looked in every crevice but not a bit of the little white +blossom did they see. + +Up, and up, and up they went. Some were tired and waited for the rest to +climb and return. Some even went back down the mountainside. But when the +top was reached, what a wonderful view spread out before them! Mountains +and lakes and streams; villages and cities and lonely farms; beauty and +calmness and majesty, all seemed to flood in at once on the minds and +hearts of those who looked. + +After they had rested a while, the old man lightly touched the hand of the +girl and said, + +"I have heard it said that one of my blossoms has been found on that cliff +not far away. Will you come with me to see?" + +So they began to search the cliff; then they found a hidden cave and +explored that; Marcia heard a tiny stream of water trickling in the cave, +and when she had found the water, she found also, close to the water's +edge, a beautiful clump of waxy white blossoms, sweet and fragrant, and +hanging tightly to the rock. + +"Oh! oh! Come, sir," called the girl. "I am sure these are what you seek. +Oh, how beautiful they are!" And they stooped to gather them. + +But just at that moment a flash of lightning lighted the cave and the +thunder rolled. In a moment the rain was coming in torrents, and the noise +of the thunder as it rolled from cliff to cliff was terrifying. A giant +pine tree which stood just before the entrance of the cave was rent from +top to bottom and went crashing down the mountainside. The noise of the +wind and storm was deafening. Pale and trembling, the girl pushed farther +and farther into the cave till, crouching down, she touched something +cool. It was the little white flowers. + +They were not afraid. The rain might fall as hard as it would but it would +not blast their beauty. They were protected by a bit of overhanging rock. +The lightning might flash about the cave but it was calm inside. Who had +made the tiny blossoms to grow here in the rock, protected from storm and +blast? God! She, too, was being cared for while her companions might be in +the fury of the storm. Who was caring for her? Her friend? No, he was +interested in something at the entrance of the cave. God was caring for +her even as he cared for the little blossom. + +"Come, Marcia, come and watch the storm," called the professor. "I have +never seen such a beautiful one. Isn't it strange that that electricity +was all there in the clouds as we came up the mountain though we knew it +not? I love to watch a storm for it shows so clearly the power and majesty +of our God. Watch the trees bend with the wind! Listen to the rocks send +back the sound of the thunder! See the little bird on yonder nest +snuggling close to keep the little ones safe! And see, far away, the sun +shining on the little village of the plain. We are in the storm, child, +yet we are safe and sheltered." + +With her hand held fast in that of her old friend, the fear gradually died +away, and when the storm was over she, too, was glad she had seen from the +mountaintop the wonder of a mountain storm. + +Soon they gathered the little white blossoms, but not all of them found +their way into the collection at the college. A little spray was tenderly +pressed between the leaves of Marcia Loran's Bible and a third little slip +of paper was fastened to the other two. It read: "God is great but God is +love. I will trust him and not be afraid." + + + + +THE WINNING OF AN HONOR + + +Barbara Lewis was very much puzzled. All the girls in her camp fire were +winning the right to embroider their symbol on the dress of their guardian +and she wanted to do the same. But how could she? She had chosen for her +name, "Chante--I _serve_," and she wanted to really win the right to have +the name, but how could she? She was not allowed to go into the kitchen to +help there at home, for the cook would leave if she were disturbed, so she +couldn't do as some of her friends were doing and learn to cook. She +couldn't serve mother, for mother was always away at the club or doing +work about the country for the suffrage cause. There were maids to do the +mending and the sewing, so how could she serve there? + +Some of the girls could serve at their church, but her teacher had never +asked her to do one thing, though she was always ready. Her teacher had +not formed a club of her girls, so of course she knew them only on +Sundays. There was no chance to serve the church. If she only knew the +minister, perhaps he would suggest a way, but he was very tall and very +dignified, so she just couldn't ask him. Whatever could she do? + +It had been weeks since their guardian had told them that when they had +earned the right to their names, they could embroider the symbol on her +dress, and every day since then she had wished she knew what to do. Mary +had chosen the name "Aka--I _can_," and when she had proved that she could +break herself of using slang by using none for a whole month, she put a +tiny little white flower on the dress, for she was using pure speech. + +"Frilohe" was the name Grace had chosen and it meant, "_A friend who loves +to help_." Grace's mother had been in the hospital and Grace had taken +care of the brothers and sisters all the time, so, of course, they all +agreed that she had earned the right. + +And now Barbara felt that she just must think of a way. She would go to +the library and ask her friend there if she knew what she could do to +serve. + +Now it chanced that from that library there were going out almost every +day girls to tell stories to groups of children about the city. Sometimes +they went to the orphan homes, sometimes to the hospitals, sometimes to +the crowded streets. Into many needy places they were sent, and already +the children were beginning to look for the gypsy-girls who were +story-tellers. As Barbara entered the library, one of the girls was just +leaving, so she stopped for a moment and told about her new work and how +much she loved it. + +"Aha," said Barbara, "I believe I could do that. I have read such lots and +lots of stories, I am sure I could do that. I should love to try. But they +haven't asked me. I couldn't volunteer, for mother would think me very +bold. Oh dear, I am sure I could serve in that way." + +All the way home she thought the matter over and then a plan came to her. +Just back of the house there was an alley and the little children there +were always looking through the fence at the flowers in her beautiful +garden. She would tell stories to these little children and see what she +could do. So she went into the house to find the stories she would use. +All the afternoon she looked in her old books. Then she was sure she was +ready. + +For a long time she hesitated the next morning as she dressed. She must +look her very best if she was to win the children. Finally she chose a +little blue gingham dress that she liked much--perhaps they would like it +too. It was only ten o'clock when she went into the garden to wait. Dear +me! Weren't they coming this morning? One hour passed and then another +half. + +Just then Tommy, the boy who threw stones, and chased the cats, and did +all sorts of things that were naughty, pushed his dirty face against the +fence. Oh my, she could never tell stories to him! But Tommy saw her there +in the garden and said: + +"Wisht you would give me a posy. Mom's sick and she hain't got none." + +Then the gate of the garden was opened and Barbara said: + +"Of course I will give you some flowers for your mother. Choose what you +would like and I will cut it with these shears." + +"Um! Um!" said Tommy. "Um! I'd like some of them blue flowers. Say, I like +blue flowers, and blue sky, and I like that blue dress. I wish Mary had a +blue dress." + +"And who is Mary?" said Barbara. + +"Oh, she is one of my sisters," said Tommy. "You see, there is six of us +and Mary is the pretty one. She has blue eyes and curls. Um! Um! I wish +you could see her." + +"I'd like to see her," said Barbara. "If you will go and bring her here I +will tell you both a story. Would you like that?" + +"Sure," said Tommy. "Sure I would. Kin I bring them all?" and off he ran +with his precious flowers. + +In five minutes he was back, followed by Mary and Katie and Jimmie and +Mike and Susan--all dirty, all barefoot, and all in a hurry to see the +flowers and hear the story. About this time Barbara began to feel queer +inside. How could she ever keep them still? Suppose they should begin to +run over her father's flowers! She almost wished she had not asked them to +come. But she remembered for what she was working, and she said to +herself, "Chante, _I serve_; Chante--_I serve_," over and over till her +courage came back. + +Then she seated them all on the steps and began. Susie wanted "Red Riding +Hood," and Katie wanted "Goldilocks," so these were first. Then Mary +wanted "Cinderella," but Tommy was not to be forgotten. + +"I want a boy's story. Tell me the one you promised me or I'll push the +rest all home," he said. + +What could she do? She never remembered having read a boy's story. Oh +dear, maybe she couldn't win Tommy. + +Over and over in her mind went the stories she had gotten ready. Then she +remembered one that she had loved years ago. It was about Cedric, the +Knight. This was just the one for Tommy. So she told it to him while his +eyes grew bigger and bigger. When the story was done, Barbara and Tommy +were friends and Tommy had a new hero. + +When the dinner bell rang, she was still telling stories to the dirty +little group but she had forgotten why she was doing it, for she was +living the stories with the children. + +The days went by and every morning found Barbara out in the garden, if +only for one story, but now the Lowinskys were not the only ones. They had +brought their neighbors and friends till the group sometimes numbered +forty. The steps had grown too small, so they had moved to the wall. Then +that had not been satisfactory, so they had moved out under the trees away +down by the little brook. Here the birds sang, the little brook whispered, +and everything was just right for the little story-teller. Over and over +she had told the stories with a new one now and then, but Cedric, the +Knight, was the favorite one. Tommy always stood near Barbara and saw to +it that all the boys were listening, so he had a fine chance to whisper, +"Now my story. Please tell mine." + +And she was telling it again one morning when she realized that some one +stood near who was not a child. It was Miss Rose, her guardian, who +listened for a moment and then drew back where the children could not see +her. When the story hour was over, she was nowhere to be seen. But later +in the evening a package was left at the door for Barbara. It contained +that precious dress for which she had longed. + +Pinned to the dress was a card which said, "Inasmuch as ye have done it +unto one of these, my little ones, ye have done it unto me." And below was +written, "I shall be glad to have you put your symbol on my dress before +Friday night so that we may tell the girls at the Ceremonial about your +story-group." + +Later when Barbara had finished the embroidery, it showed a tiny figure of +a primitive woman surrounded by little children. And the little lady was +telling them a story. She had found her way to serve. + + + + +DADDY GRAY'S TEST + + +May Langley had spent four happy years at the University, and now +Commencement time had come. It had been easy for her to get her lessons, +so she had had time to herself. She was pretty and was always well +dressed; she could dance well and sing well, so of course she had been a +favorite, especially with the boys. + +But the coming of the end of the school life had brought to her a real +problem. She knew some of the boys would want to write to her. Deep in her +heart she knew that some of them already liked her more than a little. She +could not write to all of them. Whom should she choose? Perhaps the one +she chose would eventually be the one she should marry, so it was wise to +choose with care. Over and over she turned the question in her mind. + +There was Tom,--gay, careless Tom with a big heart and plenty of money. +His father was an oil man and there was no other child. He had done little +with his studies but he had given her many a good time. His life would +probably be one of ease. Tom was really quite attractive. + +Then there was Bob, the football player. Already his name was known +throughout the country. It was great fun to go to games where he was to +play, for she shared the honors with him afterward. He was rough and +ready, and, at times, a bit too boisterous, but withal a good fellow. + +Then there was Earl, the student. He had ranked first in his class but his +books were all in all to him. A good position was waiting for him in a +neighboring college and he had told her that he should marry so that he +could have a home of his own to which the students might come. + +There were others, too, but these three seemed to stand out first in her +thoughts. How could she decide? She and her mother were alone in the world +and mother was a helpless cripple and so could not come to the +Commencement. For the first time in her life, she began to face the future +seriously. + +'Twas the Sunday of Commencement week and she was strolling across the +campus when she saw in the distance dear, old Professor Gray--Daddy Gray, +the girls called him. + +"He is the very person to help me," she said to herself, and hurried to +catch him before he left the campus. + +"Daddy Gray," she began, "I have a queer question to ask you. I am +choosing some boy friends whom I wish to have as friends after I leave. +Tell me some principles on which to base my choice." + +A rare smile crossed the face of the old man as he patted her golden +hair. + +"Good for you! I am glad you are thinking. Long, long ago when my own +girlies were choosing their friends I asked them to remember two things as +they chose--not only that the one they chose might be their husband, but +that he also might be my son, and the father of their children. One thinks +much more about the principles of the man who is to be father of their +children than about the man whom they love and want to marry. You know +what a high ideal your mother holds. Test your friends by that also. Never +mind yourself--think of others." + +Then he left her to think. + +And she did think! If Tom ignored her mother as he did his own, she could +never bring him into their home. Tom drank sometimes--oh, that would never +do. Bob was strong and healthy--but Bob had no use for God and the church. +Her children must have a Christian home. Earl was a wonderful student, but +he had undermined his health. He stooped in his shoulders and there were +signs of a breakdown. Oh dear, what a hard test Daddy Gray had given her! + +So the days wore away and she found herself watching as she had never +watched before for marks of strength--mental, moral and physical. Over and +over the words rang in her ears: "Never mind yourself--think of others." + +'Twas the afternoon of Commencement Day and her room had many beautiful +flowers. Tom's bunch was of great American Beauty roses and the card had +made her suddenly blush as she read it. But there had come in the mail a +great bunch of beautiful forget-me-nots, all fresh with the dew in the +grass. Who had sent them? She loved them the best of all the flowers in +the room. There was no card to be found, so she tucked a few in her dress +beneath the cap and gown and ran away to the chapel. + +There on the steps stood a young man and his mother, and they were waiting +for her. + +"May, I want you to meet my mother, for I have told her so much about you. +To get her to come, I had to drive all the way home to-day. But it is +worth it, even if I did have to get up before the sun did. She is the very +best mother in all the world," said the boy, and he squeezed the arm of +the timid little lady. + +"Maybe! Maybe! I am so glad to meet you," said the mother, "for I owe you +much. You have helped Gene such a lot. I am sure he would never have been +able to keep from smoking had it not been for you. He had promised me to +try. Then when you told him you did not like it, why, we worked together, +you see. And it has been so kind of you to go for the hikes when he has +asked you, for you see he couldn't have afforded to go to places that cost +money, dear." + +May Langley opened her eyes wide. She had had no idea that she had been +helping. To be sure, she had gone on many hikes with him after the geology +class had thrown them together. And she had enjoyed it, too, for he was +such good company. Always courteous, always hunting for ways to make the +trip more worth while and always good natured, no matter what the weather, +he had been a companion worth while. + +So she stood and talked with the mother and son for a moment. How sweet +the mother was and how proud he was of her! It was a joy to watch them. + +Suddenly he spied the bit of forget-me-not. + +"Ah," he said, "I had nearly forgotten to speak of them. I passed a brook +lined with them just before time for the mail train to pass the station, +so I just hopped out of the car, emptied my lunch from the box and sent +them to you. But I never dreamed you would get them in time to wear them. +Maybe the little flowers will tell you that I am hoping you are going to +remember our happy days here after we leave the campus. I want much to +feel that you have a little interest in me. I have told mother much about +you, for mother and I have no secrets. May I write to you sometimes?" + +Just then the bell rang for the line to form and she hurried away, while +he took his mother into the chapel. All afternoon they were busy and there +was little time to think. But when May came to dress for the ball in the +evening, she stood long before the flowers on the table. Then a sprig of +the forget-me-not went into her hair and a bunch was fastened to her belt. +And when he asked her for her answer as they stood on the veranda of the +fraternity house, she said simply, "I have enjoyed the time spent with +you; I am quite sure that I should like to know you better. You may write +to me if you care to do so." + +But under her breath she was saying: + +"Daddy Gray is right. The greatest test of a man is not what he might be +to you, but what he is and will be to others. I'm quite sure Gene Powell +can stand his test and mine also." + + + + +WANTED--A REAL MOTHER + + +Mary King sat before the dressing-table in her bedroom holding in her hand +a string of beads--pearls they were, but they showed signs of much wear, +and as Mary looked at them her eyes blazed with anger. + +To-morrow was her graduation day from the High School. All day she had +been at the class picnic and she had had such a glorious time. They had +danced and played; they had rowed on the lake and sung their school songs +in the moonlight. She had been as happy as a girl could be, and to have it +spoiled in this way was cruel. + +Why should her mother give her a string of old beads for a graduation +present? Other girls had wrist watches and pretty dresses and checks and +all sorts of beautiful things. When they asked her what her mother's gift +had been, how could she say, "A string of old beads"? Mother would expect +her to wear them at her graduation and how could she? + +She had found them on her table when she had come into her room and with +them was a note saying: + + "Dear Mary: + + "I waited for you to come home so that I could give you my gift, but + it is so late and I am too tired to wait longer, so I will leave them + for you. I could not buy you a real gift, so I have given you the + dearest thing I have. Every bead has a story which some day I will + tell you--perhaps on the day that you graduate from college, but not + now. I hope you will love them as I do. I shall see them to-morrow + on your pretty new dress. Good night, girlie. I hope you had a good + time. + + "MOTHER." + +Why was mother so queer? All her life long it had been hard for Mary to +have her mother so different. Her mother worked for Mr. Morse and so she +could never bring her friends to their rooms lest she should annoy the +Morses. Other girls' mothers had pretty faces and her mother's face was +all red and cross-looking. Other girls' mothers had pretty hair, but her +mother had straight hair and little of it. She had tried to get her to +wear false hair, but instead of doing it her mother had gone to her room +and cried because Mary had suggested it. Other girls' mothers let them +wear pretty clothes, but hers were always plain, though they were always +very neat. Most of the girls had fancy graduation dresses, but hers was +only a little dimity that her mother had made--and now these dreadful +beads were more than she could stand and she threw them on the bed in +anger. She wished she had a real mother of whom she could be proud. + +As she started to take down her long, wavy hair, she saw a letter in Mr. +Morse's handwriting on her desk. Perhaps this was a check for her +graduation present, so she hastily tore it open. But no check dropped out. +Instead, there was a long letter, and she sat down to read. + + "My dear Mary," it began. "A few days ago, I chanced to be on the + beach when you were there with your friend, and I heard you say to + her, 'I wish my mother were as beautiful as yours. Mother can't even + go down the street with me for she drags her foot so that everybody + turns and looks at us and it makes me feel so conspicuous. You must + be very proud of your mother.' So I have decided that for your + graduation gift, I shall give you a story instead of the check that + I intended to give you. The check can wait." + +"A story," said Mary to herself. "That is worse than the old beads. What a +house of queer people this is! Anyway, I am curious to see what sort of a +story he could write." So she read on. + + "Seventeen years ago there came to a town in the eastern part of + Pennsylvania a young man and his bride. Just a slip of a girl she + was, but her face was full of sunshine and every one soon loved her. + She had beautiful wavy hair and bright, blue eyes and a cheery smile. + After they had been there for a while, their story came to be known, + for his father was the great mill owner in a near-by town. When the + young man had married the High School girl instead of the wealthy one + whom the father had chosen for him, there had been a lot of trouble + and the young man had been told to leave home with his bride and + expect no more help from the father. + + "Now the young man had never worked, so it was very hard for him, but + she also worked and, little by little, they bought the things needed + in the tiny home on the hill, and they were very happy. Then, one + day, a scaffold fell and they brought the young husband to the little + wife all bruised and bleeding, and that very night a tiny girl came + to the home to live. The neighbors helped all they could, but in a + few days the father of the baby was gone, and the little girl-wife + was left alone to care for the baby. + + "When the mill owner heard of the death of the son and the birth of + the little girl, he sent to the mother and said: 'We will take the + little girl and bring it up as our own if you will give it to us and + have no more to do with it.' But the brave little woman sent back + answer, 'As long as I have a mind with which to think and two hands + with which to work, I can and will support my little girl. I thank + you for your offer, but I love my baby too much to accept it.' + + "But it was a hard pull. She worked in an office; she worked on a + farm. Then a position was offered her as a teacher in a Home for + Little Children. Here she could have her own room and keep the baby + with her when she was not teaching. And while she was teaching, it + would be cared for with the rest. Gladly the mother took the position + and for more than a year she was very, very happy. + + "One night when the baby was nearly three years old, she sat reading + in the parlor of the home when some one called, 'Fire! Fire! Fire in + the left wing!' Oh! that was where her baby was, on the very top + floor. Like a bird she flew across the hall where the smoke already + was pouring out. Up the first flight, choking, she went. Up the + second. Then she had to fall to the floor to creep along. She could + see the fire. It was on the fourth floor where her Mary was. Could + she ever reach it? Would the fire block her way? + + "Ten minutes after the call of fire had been given, the workers saw + some one staggering through the lower hall. In her arms she carried a + bundle wrapped tightly in a bed-quilt. And dangling from her hands + was a long string of beads. Her face was burned. There was no hair on + her head. She was writhing in agony, but she reached the door, handed + the burden to a worker, saying quietly, 'I am badly burned, but I + have saved my two treasures. Keep them safely for me.' Then she fell + in a heap on the floor. + + "For months and months and months she tossed on a bed of pain. No one + thought she could possibly live. But she did, for she was living for + her baby. When at last she came from the hospital, her beautiful + face was scarred and red; only in spots had the hair grown; her hands + were stiff and painful, and one leg dragged as she walked. But she + was alive, and that was all she asked. + + "While she had been ill, I had gone to see the mill owner to ask for + help for the brave little woman who had shown us all what a heroine + she was. But his answer had been, 'She took my son from me and I will + have nothing to do with her. If she will give the child to me, I will + bring it up in luxury, but I will not have her here.' + + "So when she was ready to go back to work, I told her that another + offer had come from the grandfather of the child to adopt it and I + said to her, 'Don't you feel that you had better give them the + baby?' + + "For answer, she patted the curly head and said, 'If I can fight + death for my baby, I can conquer in the fight to live. I shall keep + her. You may tell him that the child will not live in luxury but that + she shall know no want, and she shall have both the education and + culture which befits her father's child.' + + "But the mother's heart was sore when she looked in the glass and saw + what a pitiful change had come to the pretty face. 'I am so glad it + came while Mary was little,' she said. 'Had it come later, she would + have minded my ugly face. Now she knows no better and she will grow + used to it.' + + "So she was glad when I offered to have her come to live with us in + the distant city where none had known of her or of the awful fight + she was planning to make. We had taken a large house and there were + many things the mother could do with her stiff hands which gradually, + because of the long hours she spent on them, were beginning to limber + a bit. I gave her rooms for herself and the child and there she + lived, keeping away from all so that none might see her shrunken, + changed body. She lived only for the child, hoarding carefully the + little money that she could save lest there be not enough to send her + to college when the High School should be over. + + "Often have I heard her praying for strength to fight through the + battle; often have I heard her pray that the little girl should grow + to be an honor to the family who would not help her; often have I + begged her to let me tell the child the story of the days that had + gone, but her answer was always the same, 'No. Let her live the + happy, care-free life. Some day I will tell her, but not now. It + would kill me to have her pity me. She must love me for myself and + not for what I did. My only happiness is to live and work for her.' + + "So the heroine has spent the fifteen years and to my way of thinking + she is a mother of whom you may be proud. + + "She must never know I have told you. But not for the world would I + have you add to her burden by thinking she was not all that you + wanted your mother to be. + + "Sincerely, + + "A. E. Morse." + +When Mary had finished the letter, she sat as one stunned. Her mind seemed +on fire. Mechanically she picked up the pearls that she had thrown on the +bed. Her mother had carried them with her through that awful fire. They +were one of her two treasures and now she had almost said she would not +wear them. Oh, what a selfish girl she had been! She had thought only of +herself. + +Once she had asked her mother why the scar was upon her face and she had +answered, "Just an accident, child, when I was a young woman." Then she +had talked of something else. The lame foot, the misshapen hands, the red +face, the queer little knot of hair--all were the price paid for her own +life. Every minute since she was born, she had been a burden to her +mother. + +Now she understood why the little bank account which she had accidentally +found was being so carefully saved. She had not known that she was to go +to college. + +Now she remembered that it had been years since mother had had a new +dress, but she had thought it was because she was queer. There had been +many days when mother had seemed cross--was it because she was suffering? +Oh, how sorry she was! What could she do to make her happy now that she +knew? + +Slowly she undressed for bed. She must be in the dark to think. When she +knelt in prayer, she asked God to forgive her--but she remembered that she +could not ask mother to do so. She remembered the words of her mother to +Mr. Morse, + +"It would kill me to have her sorry for me. She must love me for myself +and not for what I did." + +So she tossed and tumbled as the time slipped by. Suddenly she heard a +foot dragging across the hall, and a big lump came into her throat. How +often she had rebelled at that foot! Then her mother came quietly into the +room. + +"Mother," said Mary, "why are you here? Aren't you asleep yet?" + +"No, dear," said the mother, and the girl thought she had never heard a +more beautiful voice. "I heard you tossing in the bed and I thought +perhaps you were ill. So I came to see. What is the trouble, dear?" + +"Oh, to-morrow is my graduation day and I think I am sorry to leave +school," said the girl. "I love these dear little beads which I have under +the pillow, mother. Have you had them long? I never saw them before." + +"Many, many years, girlie. Your father gave them to me and how hard he +worked to earn them! I love every little bead on the string. But I shall +love to see you wear them for his sake. I saved them for you once in the +long ago because I wanted you to have something that he had earned for us. +And now you must go to sleep, for you must look bright and pretty +to-morrow. Oh! I shall be so proud of you when you start for the school." + +Then a white arm drew the mother down close to the bed and a sweet girlish +voice said, + +"Be all ready when the carriage comes for me to-morrow, mother dear, for +you are going with me, even though it is early. No other girl has a mother +who has worked so hard as you have to keep her in school. You are the best +mother in the whole world and I am so proud of you." + +"Well, if you are as proud of me as I am of you, we are the happiest +little family in the whole world," said the mother, kissing her on both +cheeks. And two people were happy because real love was there. + + + + +THE FIR TREE AND THE WILLOW WAND[B] + + +All this happened years ago when the red men lived along the lake shores +and hunted in the woods. The Indians still tell the tale and shake their +heads sadly, whether because of the sadness of the story or because they +sigh for the old days, I do not know. + +Willow Wand was the daughter of old Chief Seafog. She was not like the +other girls of the tribe. She was straight and lithe like a willow, and +she looked more like a beautiful boy than she did like an Indian maiden. +This is not strange when you think that she wore the leather leggins and +the short jacket of the Indian boy and carried a bow and quiver of arrows +thrown over her shoulder. And in spite of the fact that she shot a +straighter arrow than most of the lads about her, they all loved her, for +she would run with them and hunt with them, and at night, by the fire, she +would tell them strange and beautiful stories. In her face they saw a +light that they did not see in the faces of the other girls and squaws of +the village, for Willow Wand had a secret which made her full of +mysteries. + +As Willow Wand grew taller, the time came when she thought of wedding. +Young Fir Tree, the most daring of the young braves, loved her, and Willow +Wand knew that she loved him. And when Fir Tree went to old Chief Seafog, +Willow Wand went with him, which made it not difficult for them to receive +the old man's blessing. + +So on one brilliant day in Indian summer, Fir Tree and Willow Wand were +married. The fallen leaves danced at their wedding feast and the blue +mists of autumn were the bridal veil. Every one was as happy as an Indian +could be. And in the starlight, Fir Tree took Willow Wand to his tepee. He +brought a great buffalo robe from the tent and spread it on the hillside, +and they sat down close together and looked up at the stars. + +"I love you, my brave Fir Tree," said Willow Wand. + +Fir Tree put his arm about her. "And I love you, my little Willow Wand," +he said. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world. I would not have +you like the rest. They are good; they grind the corn; they do the work, +but their faces are like stones. Yours is full of secrets and lovely +memories. What makes you so different, my love?" + +"My secret, Fir Tree. My father says that a woman's secret is her +beauty." + +"But a woman must tell her secret to her love," and Fir Tree looked off +into the distance. + +"Willow Wand must not tell her secret even to her love," she said very, +very softly. + +"You cannot trust me nor love me then, Willow Wand," said Fir Tree, +growing stiff and cold. + +"I love you, Fir Tree. I will tell you my secret." + +Fir Tree continued to look off in the darkness, but he bent his head a +little so that he might not miss anything she said. + +"One night, long ago, I sat out in the evening like this with my father. +'Father, I want to shoot your bow, your smallest bow,' I said. 'You +haven't the strength to draw it, even my smallest bow, little Willow +Wand,' he said. 'Oh, but I have. I have tried it,' and I ran into the tent +and brought the little bow with the red bear painted on it. 'See, I shall +shoot that star, the red one there.' I pulled the string and the arrow +was off. We waited to hear it fall. 'It takes a long time to reach the +stars,' I said. Just then there was a splash in the jar by the tepee door. +'There it is,' said my father, 'your star has fallen into the rain jar.' + +"I looked, and, sure enough, there was the little red star, lying on the +bottom of the crock, and shining so brightly that we could see it through +the water. 'My star!' I said. 'We shall always keep it here, my father. I +brought it down with my arrow.' + +"The next day my father took me hunting, and he gave orders that that jar +was never to be moved from beside his door until I should leave him, and +then it was to go with me. And always he has kept fresh water from the +spring in the jar. See, he has brought it up here beside your tepee that +it would be waiting for me. Yes, my Fir Tree, see, here is my own star +still shining brightly--more brightly to-night because of my great +happiness with you." + +"Dear little Willow Wand, what a beautiful child you are," said Fir Tree, +and he brushed back her black hair and looked into her eyes. "Don't you +know that the star in the crock is only a reflection of a real star above +your dear head in the sky? No one can really shoot a star, Willow Wand." + +"But of course it is a real star, Fir Tree; we heard it splash as it fell +into the jar, my father and I. And I see it now; it has always been here +since that night. You are mistaken, Fir Tree." + +Fir Tree rose and lifted up the jar, and, tipping the water out, said, +"See, I shall show you that Fir Tree is never mistaken. I shall empty the +crock. See, there is no star left in the jar, nor has any red star tumbled +out with the water onto the grass. Ah, your secret was very beautiful, +little Willow Wand, but now you know the truth. The truth, too, is +beautiful." + +There was a little moan of anguish, and Willow Wand disappeared into the +darkness. + +The next morning a tall squaw came out of Fir Tree's tepee. She picked up +the empty rain jar and with tired footsteps walked down to the spring for +water. She was dressed in the conventional clothing of her tribe, and her +face was dull and expressionless like the stones on the path over which +she walked. Down the long trail to the spring she walked. It was very, +very early, so the moon still shone and the little stars twinkled in the +sky. Often she looked at them, longing for her little red star. + +Slowly she stooped, filled the jar, and lifted it to place it on her head +when suddenly she stopped, looked--then gave a cry of surprise and +delight, for there, shining clear as crystal in the water of the pail, was +the little red star. + +Willow Wand set the jar carefully on the ground and then knelt long beside +it. How she loved the little red star! How happy she was to have it once +more beside her! And as she looked, the tired look left her face and a +smile of joy and peace took its place. + +Picking up the jar, she looked once more into the clear cold water. Then +she said, + +"Come, little star. Come with me to the wigwam of brave, strong Fir Tree. +Together we will make it the happiest wigwam in the encampment. You shall +still help me to be my best, for I shall still have a star." + +----- + + [B] Reprinted from the _Camp Fire Girls' Magazine_ by + permission. Revised by permission of the author. + + + + +THE TWO SEARCHERS + + +Peter was tired of doing the same thing over and over and he wanted a +change. Ever since he could remember he had fished and sold the fish he +had caught. He had made nets and mended them. First he had done it for his +father, and now he owned the boats and nets and fishing implements. But he +stood on that bright summer day close by the beautiful Lake of Gennesaret +in Galilee, wishing over and over that he could do something that was more +worth while. + +There was a reason why Peter was more discouraged than ever on this +morning. He had fished all through the night before in the hope of getting +a good catch so that he might skip a day's work and go to hear the great +teacher about whom men were talking and whom Andrew, his brother, had +seen. But though he had worked hard, not a fish had he caught. So now he +was mending the holes in the net with a very discontented look on his +face. What was the use of it all, anyway? He twisted the rope this way and +that, showing by the pulls that he made that his mind was full of +trouble. + +Suddenly he heard Andrew talking to him. "Peter," he said. "Peter, see the +crowd coming over the hilltop. Perhaps the teacher is coming. I do hope +so, for I would hear more of the words he was telling us yesterday. Come, +let's go and meet him." + +"No," said Peter, "I must finish this net. What will he care for us? We +are only poor fishermen." + +But Andrew had not waited to hear his answer--he had already begun to +ascend the hill. How eager he was to hear another story from the great +story-teller! + +Peter mended one hole after another, keeping his eye on the crowd that was +coming closer and closer to the lakeside. Then he heard a kindly voice +say, "Would you mind letting me take your boat, for the multitude press +upon me and I have many things to say to them. If I can get away from the +shore, they can all hear and understand." + +Silently Peter brought the fishing boat to shore. The Master wanted to use +something that he had. After all, a fishing boat was useful sometimes, +even if he were tired of it. Of course he would be glad to help him. So +Jesus, the teacher, sat in the end of the boat and Peter rowed him out in +front of the crowd. Then Peter sat and listened and looked. + +What a wonderful face the teacher had! Peter had never seen the like. It +was browned by the sun but in the eyes there was a kindly light that made +Peter love to look at him. When he smiled, somehow Peter felt the smile go +all through him. How gentle his voice was! What made it so? How eagerly +the people were listening, yet he was only telling them a little story +about the love of his father, God. + +"I wish I had a face like that and a voice like that and could teach like +that," thought Peter. "But I am only a poor fisherman. Oh dear, I wish I +could be worth something." + +But Jesus had finished teaching and had bidden the people go to their +homes. Peter turned to row to the shore, but Jesus was not ready for that. +He had been teaching the multitude and now he wanted a chance to talk with +Peter and Andrew. So he said to Peter, + +"Launch out into the deep and let us fish for a while." + +Peter thought of the long night of useless toil, but Jesus had asked him +to go. This was a chance to stay longer with the teacher, so he said to +him frankly, + +"Master, we have toiled all night and caught nothing. Nevertheless, at +your word, I will let down the net." + +So together the brothers let down the net and Peter began to row. + +This was a good chance for Jesus to study Peter. How strong and +weatherbeaten he looked! His was a good honest face, and Jesus saw there +determination and courage and trustworthiness. Jesus was searching for men +who could be trusted to carry in their minds and lives the most precious +thing he had--his message to the world--so as he rowed out into the +fishing grounds of Lake Gennesaret that day, he was searching Peter's +face. It would take courage, for some of his followers would even have to +die for him. It would take determination, for there would be many things +against them. Yes, Jesus liked Peter as he watched him and talked to him. +Peter was one of the men for whom he was searching. + +Suddenly the net was full of fishes--so full that Peter and Andrew could +not manage it. Quickly they called to their partners, James and John, to +come and help them. And when Peter saw the multitude of fishes that were +in the net, he was overpowered with the greatness of the man who had +helped them. Quickly he fell on his knees before the Christ and said, +"Depart from me, O Lord, for I am a sinful man." + +Then Jesus turned to Peter and with a whole world of meaning said, + +"Peter, it is a great multitude of fishes that you have caught, but you +can do greater things than that. You can do far greater things than catch +fish from the water. If you will come with me, I will teach you how to +catch men and you shall be my worker. I need you, Peter. Will you come?" + +Would he come? Peter, who had been longing to make his life worth while; +Peter, who had been longing to know what it was that made Jesus so +wonderful as he went among men. Would he go and let Jesus teach him? Would +he be a follower of the Master and go out in the big world to help win +men? + +A great happiness filled the mind of Peter and when he lifted his face to +the Christ, the answer to the question of the Teacher was written on it. + +So Jesus found a helper and Peter found a task that was worth while. + +"And when he had brought his boat to land, he gladly forsook all and +followed Christ." So well did he follow that we read in the Book of Acts +that after Peter had talked to the multitude on the day of Pentecost, +there were added to the church, at one time, three thousand persons who +believed the word that he had spoken to them. + + + + +WHY ELIZABETH WAS CHOSEN + + +The Triangle Club of Center High School were all busily engaged in +choosing the girls whom they should invite to go to the house party which +Mrs. Warren was giving them. Mrs. Warren had a cottage on a lake, fifteen +miles from the city, and she had written to the club saying that she +wanted them all to spend a week with George, her son, there in the camp. +And better still, she was ready to invite any ten girls whom they might +choose. Mrs. Warren was the wife of the minister, so all the boys knew +that the mothers of the girls would be glad to have them spend a week with +her at the dear little camp in the pines, about which they had heard so +much. + +One by one they had chosen the girls, each boy having a choice, and now +all that was left to be done was for Carl Green, their president, to +choose. But Carl was in an examination, so they must wait for him. + +"I think he will choose Charlotte Morey," said one. "She is so pretty and +Carl has taken her to several dances this winter." + +"Not a bit of it," said another. "He will ask Helen Keats, for she makes +such good marks in school that he is glad to be seen out with her. She is +fine company and I hope he asks her." + +"I think he will ask his sister, Jane. Carl is always thinking of her and +if she is at home, he will ask her first, I am sure," said a third. + +While they were talking, they saw the boy coming across the lawn in front +of the school. Every boy smiled and eagerly leaned forward to greet him, +for Carl Green was easily their hero. He could lead in sports of all +kinds, he was cheery and patient, he was a good student in school--he was +an all-round boy and what he did was right in the eyes of the boys. + +"Come on, Carl," they called. "Here is a letter from Mrs. Warren telling +us we can invite the girls up for the house party. Isn't she a dear to +think of it? We have chosen part of the girls and here is our list, but +you still have a choice. Of course we know whom you will choose, but we +thought we had better let you write the name. Come on! Hurry up." + +Carl took the list and looked carefully through it. Then he said, + +"That will be a fine party, fellows. I like that list. Let me see. That is +the last week in June, so Jane will be away. I'm sorry, for I should have +liked to have given her the fun. Well, as long as she can't go, I should +like to ask Elizabeth Wyman to go with us." + +A chorus of boys' voices sounded as soon as the name was spoken. + +"Elizabeth Wyman! Why do you want her? She doesn't go with our set. She +refused to go to the dance at the beach with us, though the whole club was +going. Said she didn't like the movie we were going to see. She wouldn't +vote for the Sunday picnic that we wanted. Oh, Carl, you don't want her. +She would spoil our fun. Choose another." + +Carl let the boys talk all they chose and then he said, + +"Fellows, if you insist, I will choose another, but I should prefer to +take Elizabeth. I'll be frank with you, I'm going to go with her if she +will let me and this would be a fine opportunity to get to know her." + +"If she will let you--that is a joke. As if any girl would not let you," +said John. + +"No," said Carl, "I mean what I say. I am going to be her friend if she +will let me. And I'll tell you why--though I am not sure that she would +want me to do it. Still she told me the story in a very frank way, so I +don't think she would mind. At least I hope not. But I want you to know +her in the way I do, for if she is my friend you will be often with her. +After I tell you, you will understand why I say, 'If she will let me.'" + + "It was the night of the snowstorm and I was coming up the street + when I caught up with her. It was very cold and she was snuggling + into a beautiful little neckpiece of ermine. I am fond of furs and so + I said to her, + + "'I like the little ermine that you have about your neck. It is so + simple, yet so beautiful. It is very different from the large ones + that most people wear these days.' + + "'Oh,' she said, 'I like it too. Uncle sent it to me this winter and + I love it because of the story he told me about the little animal + whose fur it is.' + + "'Tell me the story,' I said. + + "But she smiled and patted the fur as she said, 'I don't think I + could, for it is very personal. It was a message from Uncle to me, so + it means much to me. To you, it might not mean anything.' + + "'But I should like to hear it,' I said. 'Please tell it to me.' + + "'Well,' said Elizabeth, 'Uncle seems very queer to mother because he + wants a message to go with every gift, but I like it. When this came, + his letter said: + + "'"Girlie: I wonder if you wouldn't like to wear this bit of ermine. + When the ermine is pursued by a larger animal and it comes to a + puddle of mud, it will die before it will soil its coat. Wouldn't it + be wonderful if you and all the girls who are your friends would be + as careful of your characters and never, no never, do that which + would soil them?"' + + "We walked part of a block before we spoke after she had told me of + the gift, and then she said, 'I am sure that the girls at school + sometimes think me very particular because I will not do some of the + things that they do. Perhaps they are all right for them but I feel + that they would soil my coat, so I do not do them. I am trying to + keep it white and this little bit of ermine helps a lot. Of course, I + like to wear it, but it would be very uncomfortable if I did not try. + I hope you don't think me foolish, now that you know the story of the + fur.'" + +There was silence as Carl finished speaking. Then Carl Green threw back +the long locks from his forehead as he said, + +"I know a good thing when I see it, fellows, and the girl who would die +rather than soil her character is a mighty good friend for a boy to have. +She is worth asking to our house party. I'm thinking she is worth winning +for a friend. Good-by, I am going to ask her before any of you change the +name on your list." + +So Elizabeth Wyman went to the house party at Mrs. Warren's, and to this +day she wonders why the boys seemed so different from what they had seemed +before. But because she knew no difference, she was sure that it must have +been because she was invited by Carl Green, the leader of the Triangle +Club of Center High School. But you and I know better. + + + + +JANIE'S SCHOOL DAYS + + +Janie was sixteen years old, but she looked as though she might be only +thirteen as she sat on the front seat of the little schoolhouse far up on +the mountainside of Kentucky. Her black hair was plastered tightly to her +head. Her calico dress was much too long and the sleeves were much too +short. Mother had made it long so that she might wear it for several +years, while the sleeves were short so that she might have no excuse for +not getting her hands in the dish water. Her bare feet were very dirty but +her face shone from its recent scrubbing. + +This was a great day for Janie, for the missionary had once again come to +the schoolhouse. It had been three years since she was there before, and +all that time Janie had waited for her. So she had hurried with her work +in order that she might sit on the very front seat and hear every word. +Last time she had told much about the school many miles away and Janie had +said over and over to herself, "I shall go there; I shall go there." But +of course it was foolish to say so, for there wasn't any chance that she +ever could go. Why, there were seven brothers and sisters younger than +she, and she had to work all day long to help to get them enough to eat. +She could never go. + +But she listened eagerly as the missionary told of all that was being done +in the little schoolhouses all about the mountains and of the need of +teachers to do the work. + +"We like best to take a boy or girl from some hamlet and let them work +with us for several years and then send them back to their own homes to +serve there. I am wondering if there isn't a girl here who would like to +be the teacher here and help to make Round Creek what it ought to be. If +there is such a one, send them to us and we will do our best. If you will +pay $10 a term, we will do the rest." + +Janie's little body was leaning far forward and her eyes were big with +excitement. She knew a girl that would like to go. But $10 a term! Why, +one dollar seemed big in their home. So she crept out into the darkness of +the night without saying a word to any one about her great, big longing. +But up in the loft of the log house she lay long after the rest went to +sleep trying to think of a way. Auntie was coming to stay with them in the +fall. If she could just get the ten dollars by that time, maybe she could +be spared for a term. That would help a little, anyway. + +In the morning she loosened one of the boards of the woodshed. Beneath it +she placed a little tin can, and in the can she put the five pennies that +she owned. It was berry time and she thought she knew of a way to earn +some money that should be all her own. Near the mill, there were beautiful +pieces of bark. In the woods there were many rare ferns. She would make +some little baskets like she had made many times for the home, fill them +with ferns and try to sell them when she went into the town with the +berries. It meant getting up at four instead of five, but she could do +that. It meant getting the ferns when the rest of the children were +playing at lunch time--but that wasn't hard. And after her first day in +town she had fifty cents to put into the cup. Oh, how rich she felt! + +An extra quart of berries here and there, some flowers sold from her +little garden patch on the hill, two little kittens sold instead of being +drowned--and so the money in the cup grew very, very slowly and no one +dreamed it was there. But her dream grew with the contents of the cup. She +could see herself all dressed in a neat dress going up the hill to the +school and the little children following her and calling her teacher. + +But in August, George fell from the hay-mow and for days he lay there +white and still. Mother had done all she could and there was no money to +send for the doctor. Then it was that a little black-haired girl went out +in the shed and for the first time counted the money in the cup--one, two, +three, four, five, six, almost seven dollars. Long she looked at it. Then +she went into town to do the errand for her mother and five of the +precious dollars were counted into the hands of the doctor with the +repeated statement, + +"Tell mother that you happened to be going by and just stopped, so all she +needs to pay you is a dollar, for she has that." + +So mother never knew, nor did the sick boy know, of the sacrifice the girl +had made. Auntie came and went, and because it was winter the money in the +cup hardly increased one bit. Sometimes she was almost discouraged, but +then she would say to herself, + +"Why, it took years and years for Abraham Lincoln to get to the White +House. It doesn't matter if it takes twenty years. I am going to get to +that schoolhouse. I will be a teacher." + +She could crochet and she could embroider, so these helped a bit. She +planted more things in her own garden and the money from these was her +own. So again as the summer drew to a close, she knew there must be +several dollars in the cup--but she daren't count it, for if it should be +ten and still she couldn't go--oh, that would be worse than all! + +It was five days before school was to open that there came a letter from +grandmother saying that she was coming to stay for the winter, and while +mother was happy over this, Janie asked if she might not be spared to go +to school. At first there was a firm "No" for an answer. But she begged so +hard to be allowed to go for only one term that she saw signs of relenting +in her mother's face. Then she ran to get the cup--and in it was nearly +nine dollars. + +Where should she get the rest? Mother had none--yet she must have it. +There was only one way. She could sell Biddy, her pet hen whom she loved +so much. She would ask her brother to take her in the morning, for she +could never do it herself. So with tears in her eyes, she patted her pet +and put it into a box ready for the morning. Oh! ten dollars was such a +lot of money for a little girl to get! + +It was thirty miles to the school, so she had only one day to get ready. +But she had few clothes and so it was an easy matter. She put them neatly +in a bundle and with a queer feeling underneath the little red dress, now +too short instead of too long, she started bright and early to walk the +thirty miles to school. Many times she turned to look back at the little +log cabin till it was hidden from her sight by a turn in the road. Then +somehow she felt very much alone in the world. + +On and on she walked till at last, twenty miles from home, she came to the +home of an old neighbor and rested for the night. It was two in the +afternoon of the next day when she saw in the distance the large brick +building which she knew must be the school. She longed to run to it but +her feet were very sore and her body was very tired. So she trudged on +till she came to the office. + +"Please, Miss, I have come to school. I can only stay one term but I came +anyway and here is the money. The missionary lady said you would do the +rest," and she handed her the precious money. + +"And to whom did you write about entering?" said the lady kindly. + +"To nobody. You see I didn't know I could come till Tuesday," said Janie. + +"Well, I am so sorry," said the lady, "but you see we have all the girls +we can possibly take. So we can't have you this term. Perhaps you could +come next term if you leave your name now." + +The whole world seemed to fall from under Janie's feet. She was here, +thirty miles from home. She had all the money--she had sold dear old +Biddy--yet she could not stay. Not a word did she answer. She just stood +and stared into space. + +"I am very tired for I have walked thirty miles to get here. May I stay +just for to-night?" she asked, rolling the ten dollars carefully in her +big handkerchief. + +"School doesn't open till to-morrow but we will tuck you in somewhere for +to-night. I am so sorry for you, but we just haven't a bit of room after +to-morrow. Sit down on the porch and rest yourself," said the lady. + +She brought her a glass of milk and then left her alone with her thoughts. +How could she go home? Perhaps there would never come a time when she +could be spared again. Was there no way in which she could stay? + +Ten minutes later, a little girl in a short red calico dress went down the +steps and along the street, looking for a doctor's sign. When she found +it, she rang the bell and asked for the doctor. + +"Please, sir," she said, "I thought you might know some one who wanted a +girl to work for them. I want to go to school this term and I have earned +the money to come. And now that I am here, there is no place for me and I +must walk the thirty miles back. But I am willing to work. I will work for +nothing if only I can go to the school in the afternoon. Sir, I just must +be a teacher and I just must stay now and get started." + +The doctor whistled a little tune before he answered. "And tell me how you +earned the money to come." Then he whistled another tune as she talked. +"Stay here to-night," he said. "I will find out at the school just how +much they will let you come in the afternoons. I am sure you can find work +enough, so don't worry." + +And sure enough, he found a place for her and so she started with the rest +on the very first morning. She was radiantly happy till she heard a boy +say, + +"Look at the red dress that is coming in! Better loan her a red +handkerchief to piece it down with." + +Then she knew that she was different from the rest. Her shoes were coarse +and rough. Her hair looked, oh, so different. Her hands were red and big. +She was here where she had longed to come but oh, how unhappy she was! She +was almost ready to cry. Instead she shook her head proudly and said to +herself, "I will be a teacher. What do I care if they laugh?" + +The lessons were very hard, for her preparation was not good; every minute +that she could spare she must spend on getting ready for the next day, so +she had little time to be lonely. But she still minded the fact that her +clothes were so very different. Many a good cry she had in the quiet of +her little room as she looked at the red dress laid out for the coming +day. + +The term sped by and she was making good. Oh, if she could only stay! But +she had no money except the little that the good doctor had given her now +and then for doing errands for him. She could take her books home and +perhaps she could do it all by herself. + +So she waited till almost the last day before she told the woman for whom +she worked that she was leaving. + +"Why, girlie," she answered, "you have much more than ten dollars coming +from me. I have never paid you because the doctor told me you would ask +for it if you needed it. I will give it to you and then you can go and pay +your ten dollars. I wouldn't have you go home for anything." + +Clasping her precious money in her hand, she flew up the stairs. Here was +a letter from her brother also. What a happy day! Eagerly she opened it +and read, + +"Mother is counting on your coming home for we need your help badly. The +cow has died and we are without milk till we can get another. Mother +thinks she must spare you at home and let you work out to earn money." + +Oh! Oh! She was needed! She must take the money she had earned to help to +buy a cow and again she must forget school. So she went again to her +mistress, told her story and began to prepare for the long walk. She went +to the school, borrowed the books, and promised them she would surely come +again. Then she went again to the old doctor who had been so kind to her. + +He listened thoughtfully as she told him of her new plans which still had +not changed her vision of being a teacher. + +"I will come back, even though it be after four or five years. I will +come," she said, and she rose to go. + +Then the doctor turned to his desk and took from it the picture of a +girl. + +"That was my little girl," he said. "She, too, wanted to be a teacher and +she was in this very school when sickness and death came. When you came to +me that first morning and said, 'I just must be a teacher,' I could hear +her say to me, 'Help her.' So I did what you asked me to do--got you a +place to work for nothing though I knew you were to be paid. I have +watched you work, I have watched you suffer because of the red dress; I +have watched you try to do your duty at the sacrifice of yourself. And now +that you have done all that you can, I am ready to do the rest. Send the +money that you have earned to your mother to help to buy the cow. Come to +live here and be my office girl. The money that you earn can go to your +mother for I will do for you what I would have done for her and I will do +it for her sake and because you have shown me that you are worth while. +You _shall_ be a teacher." + +So Janie lived in the home of her new friend. There was help on her +lessons, the old red dress went back to the little home in the hills to be +worn by some one whom it would fit and in her new, pretty things she could +see more plainly--Janie, the teacher. + + + + +SELF-MADE MEN + + +The banqueting hall of Hotel Northland was crowded to its limit. There +were noted men and women from all walks of life. There were many from +humble homes. There were those whose beautiful dresses showed that money +meant little to them; there were others to whom the price of the banquet +ticket had meant sacrifice. It was a merry company that awaited the coming +of the guests of the evening. + +Cheer after cheer arose when the tall, fine-looking young man took his +seat near the center of the guest's table. He was the newly elected mayor +of the city--the youngest mayor they had ever had. He had risen from the +ranks and many of the humbler folk knew him well as a boy. Oh, how proud +they were of him! + +Then again the cheers sounded as an old white-haired lady entered and was +placed at the left of the mayor. She it was who had given them their +college, their library, their playground. For years and years she had been +living away from the town, but still she loved them all and gave of her +wealth to make them happy. Her friends were many in the great banqueting +hall. + +The supper was served and the tables cleared and then the mayor rose to +speak. He told of his boyhood, of his struggles at school and college, of +his eagerness to enter the political field, of his happiness at his recent +election. + +"I believe that every man is master of his own fate. I believe in being a +self-made man and I mean during these next years when I am to serve you to +make it possible for every boy to push his way to a career. One can make +himself what he will if only he has grit and courage. I am here to serve +you all," he said. + +Not once during the address had the eyes of the little, white-haired lady +been taken from the speaker. She seemed studying him rather than his +address. So intent was she that she hardly heard the toastmaster +introducing her as the friend whom all delighted to honor. Dreamily she +arose and said, + +"Years and years ago, in this very town there lived a teacher who had ten +bright, happy girls in a club. For four years they had played and worked +together and they loved each other dearly. Then the husband of the teacher +was taken ill and it became necessary for the teacher to go to another +continent to live. + +"How hard it was for the girls to have her go! But it was harder still for +her, for she had wanted to help them through to womanhood. She had tried +to help them to see the best but often she had felt that her efforts were +all too small. The day came nearer for her to leave and she had asked the +girls to spend the last evening with her in her home. + +"And they came, each bringing in their hands a little letter, sealed +tightly. They were steamer letters for their teacher and they had been +written because they had heard her say that she wished she could take with +her some idea as to what the girls wanted to be when they had grown, so +that she might be thinking of their plans, even though she could not be +there to help with them. One by one they laid them on the table till there +were ten little letters--heart-to-heart letters to their dear friend. + +"Five days later, away out in mid-ocean, the teacher opened the letters +and read them over and over to herself. How much they told of the girls! + +"Jennie wanted to be a great singer; she wanted to go to New York and +study and then go into Grand Opera. + +"Katherine wanted to be a Kindergarten teacher. Ah! she had found that +because of helping in the church. + +"Mary wanted to be a lawyer--a criminal lawyer. Perhaps that desire had +grown in their debating club. + +"Louise wanted to be a nurse. What a dear faithful girl she had been in +helping with the bandages after the great fire in the city! + +"So one by one she read their letters and her heart was filled with +gratitude that to her it had been given to mold in a little way their +lives." + +Then turning to the mayor of the city, the little white-haired lady said, + +"Sir, the contents of one of those letters will be of interest to you more +than to the rest. I was the teacher of those girls, so I can give you the +exact wording of the last letter that I read, + +"'Dear friend: You have asked us to give you our dearest wish. I have many +wishes for the future but the wish that I want most of all is to be a fine +woman and some day to be a real mother, the kind you have so often told us +about.' + +"The girl who wrote that letter, sir, became your mother. Fourteen years +before you were born, your character was being formed, your ideals were +being molded, your future was being safeguarded. I congratulate you, sir, +on being elected to the office of mayor; but I congratulate you more for +being the child of my little girl of the long ago who at sixteen could +write, 'I want most of all to be a fine, noble woman and some day to be a +real mother.' To her you owe much. Inspire the girls of the town if you +plan for great men. A self-made man needs a real mother to build the +foundations of his character. There is no other way." + +Then the speaker sat down and there was silence in the banqueting hall. + + + + +ON THE ROAD TO WOMANHOOD + + +In their hands the girls carried a scroll; on their backs they carried a +bundle, and they were five in number--five girls with rosy cheeks and +healthy bodies. But now their cheeks were browned by the sun and their +shoulders drooped as they walked by the way. + +For they had walked and walked and walked as the morning had turned into +noon, and now the afternoon shadows were already falling on the way. Then +as the search seemed almost useless, they saw her--the one for whom they +had come; the one into whose hands they wished to place their scrolls. +Eagerly they watched her as she came slowly toward them dressed in shining +white--the Angel Who Rights Things. + +When she smiled, they found courage to speak. + +"We have come to search for you but we thought we should never find you," +said the oldest of the girls. "We can never grow strong and beautiful if +we carry these heavy burdens on our backs. They are much too large for us +and we do not like them. We have come to ask you to take them away and +make us free. Lo! we have written it all here in our scrolls." + +But the Fairy Who Rights Things drew back as the five handed to her the +scrolls which they carried. + +"Take away the burdens!" said she. "Oh, no, I could never do that. He that +carrieth no burden gaineth no strength. All must carry if they would +grow." + +"But we do not like them. If we must have a burden, might we not exchange +them? Surely all our friends do not have burdens to carry. We have +watched them and we know they have none," said another girl. + +"You are quite mistaken," said the fairy. "All have burdens to carry. But +I can let you choose if you will exchange your own. Let me see what you +have brought." + +"Well," said the first. "Here is mine. I have to go to school. Now father +has plenty of money and I shall never have to work. Why should I study and +do all the hard work of the school? I hate it all and I want to be free +from it. I want to live at home and read, and play, and do as I like." + +"And here is mine," said the second, lifting it from her back. "I have to +go to church every Sunday when I want to sleep. There is nothing there for +me and I am so tired of it. But father and mother insist that I go, at +least in the morning. I want to be free from the church." + +"Oh," said the third. "I don't mind school and I don't mind going to +church but I do mind having to help at home. It is iron and sweep and wash +dishes; then wash dishes and sweep and iron. Always something to do when I +am in the house. I hate housework and I want to be free from doing it. +Mother says all girls should help at home. But it is a big burden." + +"My burden is quite different from the others," said the fourth. "I cannot +dress as I choose. I must wear heavy clothes and low heels. I must dress +my hair as if I were old and tidy. All the girls do differently and I want +to be like them. Really my burden makes me very unhappy. Please let me +change it." + +Then the fairy turned to the last girl, who had been resting her burden +against a stone wall. + +"What have you here, dear?" she said kindly. "Your burden seems weighing +you down. Let me help you open it." + +"Oh dear," said the girl, and the big tears welled up in her eyes. "This +is my home life. Nobody seems to understand me. They scold and fret and +fuss all the time. Mother is cross and the children are always bothering +me. I want to go away from home and work for my living and then board as +the other girls do. I should love to have a little room in a +boarding-house where the girls could come to see me. My burden grows +heavier and heavier and I am also very unhappy." + +"Well, well, well," said the Fairy Who Rights Things. "It looks as if I +had a big task. All of you seem to be unhappy, but then we are usually +unhappy because we look at ourselves instead of others. Let's try what +these magic spectacles can do. They will show you the burdens some of your +friends carry and also show you how they carry them." + +Then she fitted a pair to the eyes of each girl and they looked at the +passers-by. + +There was Kate, who was always smiling and happy. Her burden was almost as +large as she. There was a sick mother away back on the little farm in the +country. Kate was trying to support her and still have enough to keep her +own expenses paid. Her days were full of work. In her room, she was sewing +to make extra money. She was very lonely, for she loved the little mother +and longed to be with her, but she must earn money. Oh! what a pile of +worries she had on every side! How could she ever carry them? But beneath +the pile as it rested on her back they saw a little lever that was lifting +all the time--and the lever was _Love_. + +And here was May. They had money and automobiles and everything to make +her happy. She had never seemed to have any burden but now she was +carrying a very large one. She wanted to go to college, she wanted to make +her life worth while, but her parents wanted her to stay at home and play +the hours away. They would not let her go and as the months went by she +longed more and more to study and serve. Did she have a lever to help +carry hers? Indeed she did. It was right under the burden and it was +called _Vision_. + +Then there was Tom, the baseball star. He too carried a burden. They had +never known that he had a father. But he carried the burden of a father +who drank and drank. Oh, what a shame to take him through the streets in +such a helpless condition! Did Tom have a lever? All looked eagerly to see +and they saw _Ideals_--he would have a spotless character and retrieve the +family name. + +And there was Helen. Her people used profane language and she loved the +pure. They loved the world and she loved the ideals of the church. They +made fun of her faith and tried to change it. How heavily she was loaded, +yet they had never dreamed of it when they had seen her teaching her +little class in the Church School. But _Belief in God_ was helping her to +carry her load. + +So they passed along the way before the five girls. All were carrying +something but not all were carrying their load alike. Some smiled, and +some sang as they staggered beneath a heavy load; others groaned and +fretted with the weight of a much lighter one. Some were not only carrying +their own load but helping to carry others. + +"And now," said the Angel Who Rights Things, "do you see a load that you +would prefer? If so, then I will ask the bearer to exchange with you. Will +you choose by the size of the burden or the ease with which it is +carried?" + +But though they searched long and diligently, they found no load easier +than their own. + +At last one turned to the Angel and said, "We find no one to choose. And +since we must carry a burden, will you tell us how best we may carry +these?" + +Then the face of the Angel lighted with pleasure till it glowed like the +sun. "When one asks _how_ to carry and not _why_ he must carry, already +the load is lighter," she replied. "If you will, your school can give to +you a vision that will make your load seem very easy; your church can give +to you a love that will make you eager to go there and learn to serve; +your home cares can give you ideals for your own little home some day; +your mother can show you how to grow into beautiful womanhood if you will +but give her a chance; your troubles at home can give to you a sympathy +that will not only lift your own burden but help with those of others. All +these levers that you have seen helping to lift loads have been right at +your hand to help you if you would only have given them an opportunity. + +"How shall you bear your burdens? With a smile on your face, and love in +your heart, and any _lifter_ that you can find." + +Then the Angel Who Rights Things went on her way to find others who +groaned beneath their burdens because they had never learned how to carry +them. + + + + +HER PRAYER + + +Every time the King automobile went past the little home of Julia Lowe +when Julia was there, she ran eagerly to look into the face of the lady +who sat inside. She had such beautiful clothes; she sat so tall and +stately; she had such a wonderful smile. She was Julia Lowe's ideal +woman. + +Julia had gone with two other girls to ask Mrs. King to help them with +their Liberty Loans and she had not only taken bonds but had given them +flowers from the great garden back of the house, and had invited them to +come again. Every time she saw her go by, Julia wished she, too, might +have such a sweet face and such a heap of good things as Mrs. King had. + +Now Julia worked in an office downtown, so, of course she thought she had +to act and to do as the other girls in the office did. When they wore +their hair very straight, hers was straight also; but when they wore +puffs, she had to get up much earlier in the morning to force her pretty +hair into great puffs over her ears. Mother wanted her to wear serge +dresses in the office, but the other girls wore georgette waists, so of +course she had to wear them also. Some of the girls in the neighborhood +liked to go to the library to read, so they had formed a club for that +purpose and had asked Julia to join. But the girls in the office liked to +go to dances and picture shows, and so she must go to them also--else how +could she talk things over with them at the noon hour, and tell them of +the boys she had been with, and the places where she had gone? Oh, yes, +she just must do as the girls in the office did. But in spite of it all, +she wasn't very happy and sometimes she wished she could run away from it +all and just go back to school again as her mother had wanted her to do. + +When she looked at Mrs. King, somehow her beautiful face seemed to make +her want more than ever to do better. What was there about her that made +Julia love her at a distance and yet be afraid of her when she came near +her? Julia didn't know. But she did know that deep in her heart she wanted +to be like her and didn't know how. If only she had money and beautiful +things, perhaps it would be different. + +One day when the leaves were very beautiful in their fall colors, a dainty +little note was left by the postman for Julia and it read, + + "Dear Julia: + + "I hardly know you but I am going to ask a great favor of you. Mr. + King has been called out of town and he is not willing to have me + stay in the house all alone, for it is very big and lonely since Mary + died. I wish very much that you would let me call for you at the + office this afternoon. Then we will go out in the country to see the + beautiful colors and have our supper at the Country Club. Then, when + we come home in the moonlight, I should like to have you spend the + night with me here. I shall hope that you can come. + + "Sincerely, + + "Margaret L. King." + +Julia was so happy as she read it that she could hardly contain +herself--to go for a ride in the wonderful car; to eat at the Country +Club; to sleep at the home of Mrs. King--why, she had never even dared to +dream of such a thing. It was too good to be true. + +Of course she must look her very best, so she asked for an extra half hour +at noon. She would wear her new thin waist with the very low neck, for the +girls had told her that she looked "too sweet for anything" in that. Her +silk skirt was shabby but it would never do to wear her serge, even if it +were new, when she rode with Mrs. King. As she put on the high-heeled +slippers, she noticed that they were much run over, but they would have to +do. It took her a long, long time to fix her hair just as she wanted to +have it, for one dip must just touch the next at the right angle. + +Finally all was ready but the extra touches to her face. There was the +rouge for which she had spent so much money. The boss at the office had +told them that they would lose their job if they came with it on their +faces again but she must risk it this once. A little penciling of the +eyebrows, a little powder here and there, and Julia felt very sure as she +looked at herself in the glass that she would "do." + +Her shoes needed brushing but she hadn't time for them, for, even now, she +had only time to run as fast as she could to get the car which would bring +her to the office in time. There was a button off her coat which she had +forgotten, but the coat needn't be worn; her fingernails needed attention, +but she never cared much about them. As long as her face, and her hair, +and her clothes were all in style, she was all right to go anywhere. + +Promptly at five, the King car came to the door of the factory and Julia +stepped in, followed by the envious glances of her friends in the office. +What a ride it was through the open country! Miles and miles of beauty +such as Julia had never seen. Mrs. King found so many interesting things +for her to see that all the restraint wore away, and she found herself +talking to her friend and telling her all about her own life and +pleasures. + +Then Mrs. King told her a little about what she did with her time and, to +her surprise, Julia found that Mrs. King was a very busy woman. Over and +over as they talked, Julia noticed how soft and sweet Mrs. King's voice +was and how carefully she used the best of English. And again, Julia found +herself wishing she were like Mrs. King. Somehow she did not care to use +the slang words that seemed so necessary when she talked with the girls. + +When their coats were removed at the Country Club, Julia found that Mrs. +King was very simply dressed in a dark blue serge dress with little white +collar and cuffs. Many other girls and women in the group were dressed in +the same way. Then Julia became suddenly conscious of the run-over heels +and the torn skirt, for she and Mrs. King were in the center of the room, +and she was being introduced as "My friend Julia." How she did wish she +had taken mother's advice and worn the new, pretty serge! + +In one of the corners of the dining-room there was a little table for two +that overlooked the lake, and towards this Mrs. King made her way. Here +they could see every one and yet be quite alone. Then Mrs. King told her a +little of the people in the room. Here was the wife of a noted judge; that +was the High School teacher of whom she must have heard the girls speak if +they had ever been to that school. + +"And who are these two girls in front of us?" asked Julia. "Isn't the +dark-haired one a beauty? Evidently the young man with her thinks so, +too." + +Then Mrs. King's face grew quiet as she said, + +"Those are two girls of whom we are very fond here, but I am so sorry to +see Jessie doing as she is. No, Julia, she is not pretty. She has painted +her face and all her natural beauty is hidden. Usually she is very +attractive. Her friend's face is sweet and clean. Evidently she does not +care to attract attention to herself by the use of paint and rouge. She +believes in being true to her best self even though she is not in the +height of style. When you have lived longer, you will know, dear, the +truth of what I say." + +Poor Julia. Her face burned like fire. Mrs. King had said "My friend +Julia," yet she, too, had paint on her face--not red like the girl in +front, to be sure, but it was there. Why had no one told her before? All +the girls did it and she thought it was the thing to do. Then there came +to her an impulse to ask Mrs. King about it, so she said frankly, + +"Mrs. King, I have some paint on my face, too, but I put it on because I +was coming out with you. I thought you would like to have me look my very +best." + +"Indeed I do, girlie," said Mrs. King, putting her hand on the hand of the +girl opposite her. "Indeed I do want you to look your best. I have liked +you ever since I came to Hillcrest to live and it has hurt me to see you +trying to do as all the other girls did. I have wished so often that you +would be a leader in doing the finer things and help others to see what +real beauty is and how to get it. Real beauty is not put on from the +outside; it grows from within." + +Julia looked at Mrs. King's sweet, loving face very hard for a minute and +then said, + +"I have liked you, too, and I have watched you go back and forth, wishing +I could be like you. Will you show me how? Mother has tried but I thought +she did not know. No one else has ever tried to tell me about your kind of +beauty." + +So they made the compact. Then they sat and watched for well-dressed +women; for women in whose faces there was strength of character and +purpose; for girls whose very manner showed they were ladies; for men who +honored the girls in whose company they were. Such fun as it was! Julia +never knew the time to go so fast. It was so plain now that clothes did +not necessarily make the lady. She was almost sorry when it came time to +go home. + +In the house, a great fire was burning and it looked so cozy. + +"I have looked into your windows many times as I have passed and wished I +could sit before the fire and dream and dream," said the girl. "May I sit +down here for a while?" + +"We will both sit here," said Mrs. King, "then I will tell you about my +little girl who used to sit here with me." + +How Julia's heart ached for her friend as she told her of her love for her +own dear girl, of the plans they had made, of the sudden sickness and +death, and of the loneliness of the big house since she had gone! She had +thought Mrs. King had everything to make her happy, yet the thing she +wanted most she could not have. + +"Her hair was much like yours and sometimes, as you have passed, I have +wished I could comb yours as I did hers. Would you mind if I did?" said +the mother. + +"I should love to have you," said Julia. + +"Well, then, when the fire has died out, we will go up to her room. In the +drawer there I have a little white dress that perhaps you would like. I +will comb your hair just as I did hers and see if the dress will fit you," +said Mrs. King. "If you look sweet and girlish in it, I will give it to +you." + +While Mrs. King slipped away to get the things needed for the +hairdressing, Julia went to the great white bathroom, and when she came +out her face was sweet and clean and every trace of the paint and powder +was gone. Her pretty brown hair was down her back in ringlets and her +face wore a look which the girls at the office had never seen there. + +Then Mrs. King brushed, and brushed, and brushed till the hair was soft +and shiny. Low in her neck she coiled it, making it look girlish and neat, +fastening it with a tiny velvet circlet. Then Julia held her breath as +Mrs. King took from a drawer a little white dress. It was a simple silk +mull but it was prettily made. Below it was a dainty petticoat and at the +bottom of the drawer were white oxfords and fine, lisle stockings. + +"These were ready for her graduation, dear, but she never wore them once +after they were made," said the mother softly, as she fingered the dress +lovingly. + +There were tears in the eyes of the mother and tears in the eyes of the +girl as the dress was put on. And when Julia looked into the mirror she +seemed to see a strange girl. How little she looked like the girls in the +office! But she liked her hair--and she liked the looks of her face--and +she loved the simple, white dress. + +Last of all Mrs. King slipped about her neck a little string of pearls. +"These are my gift to you, Julia," she said. "Wear them when you think you +are dressed as you and I have planned to-night and be as beautiful as the +pearls. Remember, dear, we may put beautiful things on the outside but +they can never make us beautiful. It comes from the inside because of what +we are. It stands the test of study. It is always real. A girl who does +not live up to the best she knows can well be called a coward. Good night, +dear, I am glad there is a girlie who loves me." + +Then with a good-night kiss she was gone--gone, as Julia knew, to be more +than ever lonely for her own little girl. + +For a long time Julia stood looking at the dress, and the slippers, and +the stockings. Mrs. King had plenty of money, yet these were to have been +her daughter's graduation clothes. And she had not finished school because +she could not have clothes like the rest of the girls who were to have +expensive ones. Mrs. King was honored all through the city, yet she was +dressed in a simple serge dress at the Country Club. It was all very +strange! Some one had things very much mixed up concerning what a girl +should wear. How long it seemed since she had left the office in the +afternoon! + +The room was so dainty that it took Julia a long time to get ready for +bed. How she would love to have a room like this! Maybe it would be easy +to be good. She looked at the dress again, as she laid it carefully over +the chair. It was all hers. The girls would laugh at her but she loved it. +Then she lifted the little string of pearls--not cheap, big ones such as +she had worn on Sunday, but dainty, beautiful ones, and they whispered +again to her, + +"Be as beautiful as the beads, girlie. True beauty is never put on from +the outside. It comes from inside because of what you are." + +Long she stood in the moonlight near the window looking at them. Then she +dropped on her knees and said, + +"Dear God, she has shown me the best. Help me not to be a coward as I go +out and try to do it. Help me to be as beautiful as the pearls. I thank +Thee for to-day. I want to show others what real beauty is and how to get +it. Please help me." + +And the Father heard the prayer of the girl kneeling there in her white +night-gown, for it came from a sincere heart--and He answered. + + + + +THE BEST DAY + +By Mrs. Annie G. Freeman + + +One sunny summer afternoon Margaret sat reading beneath the shade of an +old apple tree. Before her stretched a charming view but on her face was a +troubled, dissatisfied look. + +"Oh, dear," she sighed. "Even this book is stupid. It is the dullest, most +stupid day that I ever saw." + +"Stupid day?" said a tiny voice. There on the rock before her sat the +daintiest little golden-haired fairy that she had ever seen. The fairy's +feet were resting on a woodbine vine that was creeping up the wall, and +her wings were as delicate as those of a butterfly. + +"What makes such a bright day as this stupid?" + +"Oh, I suppose it is myself," said the discontented girl. + +"I believe it is," said the fairy. "Now I will take you with me to the +Palace of Time and you shall choose a day that suits you better. Come." + +Over green meadows, through pleasant pastures, beside babbling brooks that +sparkled and played in the sunshine, the fairy led. At last they came to +the Palace of Time. The fairy led the way up the long hall to the throne +on which Time sat, and told her errand. + +"Take the little friend to the Hall of Days," he said, "and give her the +day that pleases her best." + +How delighted the maiden was! Wouldn't you be if a fairy should take you +out of a stupid day and promise you the day that pleased you most? She +just skipped along, her feet scarcely touching the ground in her joy. In +a great room filled with all kinds of bright lights, they stopped. + +"This is the Hall of Days," said the fairy. "Take whichever day pleases +you most." + +Like great balls of glass the days were of many colors and of many kinds. +Some were dark and some were light; some were dim and others clear. + +One was like a crystal and the odor of roses seemed to come from it. Its +colors were soft and Margaret gazed deep into it. Vague dreams seemed to +come from it and memories happy and delightful. But she couldn't live on +dreams and memories. That wouldn't do. She might like that sort of a day +once in a while but her young life demanded something to do on the best +day. This was a day that had gone. + +One other day pleased her much. It shone like the sun on the new fallen +snow. It was so white and so pure that she lifted it carefully lest she +should soil and spot it. + +"It is too bright. It hurts my eyes," said she, putting it back. + +"Yes, little girl," said the fairy. "That is to-morrow. It must be shaded +by many things before one can bear it." + +Then, just between the two, Margaret spied the most beautiful ball of all. +It wavered and shimmered; now it was red, now green, now yellow and now +pink. Oh, there were so many colors that she could not name them all. Wave +upon wave of color swept through it and all seemed shot with the golden +lights. + +"That is the one that I want," she cried happily. "That is the most +beautiful day of all." + +"Take it, then," said the fairy. "It is yours." + +All the way home, the maiden clasped it tightly. + +"With this day," she said, "I can be joyful. With this day I can make so +many people happy, and it is so bright that I can see the best way in +which to go. It is as light as a feather. I can hardly wait to show my +friends the beautiful day that I have chosen, for I love it dearly." + +"Yes, indeed," said the fairy, as she flew off in a different direction. +"It is a wonderful day. Infinite wisdom and love helped you to choose +aright. That is To-day." + +"What a beautiful day!" said the maiden as she sat in the shade of the old +apple tree. "I believe I have been dreaming. But this is too beautiful a +day to idle it away. I will go and do something for some one to make +others see its beauty also." + + + + +IN THE WAY + + +Gladys Mercer sat looking at a snapshot which had come to her from one of +her girl friends. It showed a strong, athletic woman with a blanket rolled +over her back hiking along the road and with her six girls in middies and +bloomers. And as Gladys looked at the picture, she smiled at the memories +which it brought. + +There was the long hike, the tired muscles, the view from the mountaintop, +the wonderful sunset, the stillness of the night and the fear of the dark. +Then there was the voice of the woman in the picture, + +"Girls, you are safer here than in any house you could find. Just remember +that God is over all and sleep as sound as can be." + +Then there was the sunrise, the pancake breakfast on the hill, and the +hike home. Best of all there had been two long days with Mrs. Fuller, the +friend of girls. What a good visit they had had with her! What a fine +story she had told them at the sunset! What a helpful prayer she had made +as they closed their good-night song when the sun went down! + +And then from the thought of the trip, Gladys went to the thought of all +that Mrs. Fuller had meant to her. She was sunny; she was happy in her +work through the day, and happy to give her time to them at night; she was +always ready to advise and help; she seemed to know just what to do when +they did not know; somehow she could always get them to do the thing they +had thought they would not do. She was to Gladys, the motherless girl, a +friend, a companion, a leader and a heroine. + +What was there about her that made her able to lead? Was it her smile? Was +it her ability to do things? What made a leader anyway? + +Gladys leaned far back against the old tree under which she had been +sitting and said to herself, "I wish--I wish----" + +"And what do you wish," said a little voice, and there close to her was a +dear little lady dressed in red and in her hand she carried a lamp. + +"Who are you?" said Gladys. + +"I am the Fairy of Helpful Service," said the little lady. "I heard you +talking about one of my helpers, so I was interested to know what you +wished when you thought of all she had done for you girls. Now tell me. +What do you wish?" + +"If you are a fairy, perhaps you can give me my wish. I wish to be like +Mrs. Fuller. I want to help girls. I want to get the kind of letters she +gets from girls who are far away. I want to see 'my girls' some day giving +service all over the world as she does. I want to be like her. Please, +fairy, give me my wish." + +"I can't make you like her but I can put you in the way of service and +then, if you choose, you can become like her and get the things you are +asking for. Those things are not given--they are earned, and the cost of +them is heavy. I don't really think you mean what you say, for you haven't +even wanted to go to school to learn to help. Perhaps the best way would +be to let you see _her_ in the way and then you can choose for yourself +whether you want your gift. Come and we will watch her climb the way." + +So the Fairy of Helpful Service and the girl who wanted to be a leader +went together into the House of the Past. + +"There," said the fairy, "there is Mrs. Fuller as a little girl. We will +watch her grow and you may see where she earned some of the qualities +which you admire in her." + +There she was, a mischievous little girl of ten, as happy as the day was +long. + +"Here she is laying the foundation for health," said the fairy, "with long +hours of sleep and good food and plenty of play. One begins away back in +girlhood to be a leader. Some who would have been good helpers for me +cannot serve because they did not begin early enough to get ready." + +Then as the little girl played there came into the way a black, black +cloud. Gladys shuddered as it came nearer and nearer to the little girl +and finally enveloped her. It was death--the death of her father, but +after the cloud had passed and the sunshine had come again, the fairy +said, + +"See, her shoulders are broader. She has learned what loneliness means." + +On she went and then she was going to High School. Others had clothes that +she did not have. She must hurry to finish because there was no father in +the home. So, eagerly she pushed through the High School. + +Just here Gladys saw a hand reached out to help and heard a voice saying +to the girl, "Of course it will be hard but you can go to college if you +really want to go. It will do you good to sacrifice for it." 'Twas the +Master of the school who was helping her to keep in the way. + +"Can you see her grow?" said the fairy. "She has added concentration, an +appreciation of the girl who has little and who must be with girls who +have much, and now she has been given a vision." + +Then Gladys watched her toil through college, earning her way, often +overtired and worried as to where the means to go on were to come from. +But she pushed ahead. + +"Oh," said Gladys, "how hard she works! I could never do that. I am sorry +for her." + +"You needn't be," said the fairy. "You need never be sorry for those that +sacrifice for an ideal. Be sorry for those who have none and so who live +at ease." And they watched her struggle through temptation and toil to the +graduation day. + +As the college days passed, there came strength of purpose, but there came +also the desire to serve. Gladys watched her lead the little group of +dirty street boys in the slums. + +"How can she do it?" said Gladys. "They are so dirty and so rough." + +But the fairy said, "When one wants to serve, she looks at the heart and +the life--not at the clothes and the actions. The boys are helping her to +keep in the way." + +And after college there were happy days. Days of love and comradeship, +days of work for the fairy; days when opportunity was everywhere. And in +these days of happiness there came lessons of sharing, of winning, of +filling the life with sunshine. The path was so bright that it dazzled. + +Suddenly, Gladys looked ahead in the path. "Look," she said to the fairy. +"Look, oh, how black it is! Oh, I am sorry." + +Then the storm descended and all was black in the way--oh, so black and to +move took all of one's strength. Against it she struggled, but it seemed +as though she must surely be driven from the path. Death and loneliness +and worries seemed overpowering. + +But the storm passed and, when once again there was peace, a great +strength had come in its place, for there was sympathy for others who +suffered, there was an appreciation of the value of friendship, and there +was a knowledge that God helps. + +Little by little the road widened, though often it was lonely and hard. +There were many steep places but each added something. And then Gladys saw +the picture change. + +There was Mrs. Fuller with her girls and she was leading them by the hand. +But it was by no means easy. Some held back; some chose to play by the +way; some looked longingly at the things by the wayside that would harm. +But her one hand reached up and her other hand helped them ahead as she +tried to keep them in the way. + +As the picture faded, Gladys turned to the fairy. "I thought it had been +all sunshine but now I see how hard it has been to learn to understand and +to help. I love her better than I did before, now that I have seen her in +the way. Thank you, fairy." + +"But wait," said the fairy. "You asked me for a gift. Do you still want +it? Do you still want to follow her?" + +"To follow means study, and sacrifice, and temptations conquered, and +sympathy, and all sorts of hard things, doesn't it? I never thought about +it. But I love Mrs. Fuller and I still want to lead girls--I still want +the letters and I still want to be like her. Please, Fairy of Good Works, +put me in the way and I will go back to school and begin to get ready." + +Then the little lady smiled as she waved her wand over the head of the +girl. "Your life may be much more sunny than hers, dear. Not all must have +the same things to overcome. But whatever you meet in the way, you must +struggle against it and come out stronger because you have struggled. Can +you see away off there in the distance the hands of girls--oh, so many of +them--eagerly reached out for help? They are 'your girls.' And here is the +way. Above there is one who helps and I am here though you may not see +me. Push forward or the girls will have no helper. Good-by and good luck +to you." + +But as Gladys reached out to detain her, her hat fell to the ground and +she found herself sitting against the tree. In her hand was the picture of +Mrs. Fuller and her girls. Long she looked at the picture. Then she said +to herself, + +"I never knew the way was so long or so hard to be like you but if just +one girl can love me some day as I love you, then I shall be glad I have +walked in the way. I am ready to try and I hope I can win." + + + + +AN OLD, OLD STORY + + +It was a dark and rainy day when about the inn-fire, close to the great +caravan way that led through Canaan, in the land of Palestine, a group of +camel-drivers and travelers were gathered. They looked very different from +what they do to-day, for nearly four thousand years have passed since +then. But they were all huddled together listening to stories and songs. + +In the group there were men from Egypt; there were men from Babylon, the +great city far to the East; there were men from the land of Canaan; and +then there were some wandering nomads who had lately come from the East +and so were called by the Canaanites "Hebrews," which means, "People from +the Other Side." Most of these men were shepherds, but they loved to meet +with the camel-drivers and learn of the customs and habits of the people +of other lands. 'Twas a strange group of men sitting about the little +fire. + +In those days, as now, men loved to tell stories that had come down to +them from their fathers and grandfathers, and often they found that a +story from Egypt was but little different from one that had been told in +Babylonia. So they loved to listen to the story-tellers. + +But on this day it had rained and rained till the streams were full and +the way was very hard to go. Thus there were very many men in the inn. +'Twas the turn of the Babylonian, so he began, + +"I will tell you one of the very oldest of our stories--about a great +rain-storm. + + "Years and years and years ago the Gods in heaven began to fear that + the men of the earth were going to live forever and so they made a + plan by which to destroy them. There should be a great rain for days + and days and days, and all these men and women and children should be + drowned. Then the Gods would be free from their worries. + + "But one of the Gods named Ea had a friend who lived on the earth, + and so he sent word to him to go with all his family into a big, big + ship and take with him two of every kind of animals. Utnapishtim, the + friend, did as he was told. + + "Then the rain came and for six days and nights there was no let-up + at all. Deeper and deeper it grew till the Gods in heaven grew afraid + and cowered in the highest corner of heaven. By this time every + living thing, except the ones in the big ship, was destroyed. + + "But after six days, the rain ceased. Then the man sent out a dove, + but it returned, for it could find no place to rest. Later he sent + out a raven and it did not come back, so he knew the waters were + going down. Then he made a great sacrifice to the Gods and they came, + they saw the great destruction and they gloated over it, pleased that + their plan had worked so well." + +There was applause when he had finished from many of the group, but the +Hebrews did not applaud. They had been taught that there was one true God, +not many Gods. They had been taught that God was kind to all and not one +that gloated over destruction of men. They were not pleased with the story +of the great flood. + +Then there came nights out under the stars and they heard the stories of +how the earth was made; of how man came to be; of the meaning of many of +the things that they saw all about them. But in every story there were +found Gods who were cruel, who were unkind, who quarreled and fought. +There were many, many Gods, but none was like unto their God. + +As the old Hebrews listened to all these old, old stories from the +countries about them which were told so often, they shook their heads +sadly and said, + +"We have come into this country to live and bring up our children. But if +they hear these stories, they will believe some of them and forget the +true God. They must have stories of their own that show how great and +mighty is the God of Israel. But what shall we do about these stories? If +we say the stories are false, they will laugh at us and say, 'Why, our +people have known these stories since long, long before there was a Hebrew +on the earth. What our fathers have told us as true is surely true.' And +if we say to our children, 'You must not listen to these stories,' they +will be all the more eager to listen. What shall we do?" + +Finally it was decided that the stories of the Egyptians and the +Babylonians must be remade so as to be fit for their children to hear and +they must teach the beliefs of their own religion in stories of their +own. + +So, many weeks later as the men were gathered out under the stars on a +beautiful night, one of the best of the Hebrew story-tellers said +quietly, + +"I have listened to stories about the making of the world from many of you +but I think my story is better than any you have told. Would you like to +hear the story of how the God of Israel made the world?" + +"'Tis a Hebrew who is talking," said one. "I didn't know you people had +any stories. Give it to us. Then we can compare it with our own great +stories." + +And the Hebrew story-teller began: + + "In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And these + are the generations of the heavens and the earth when they were + created in the day that the Lord God made the earth and the heavens, + + "And every plant of the field before it was in the earth and every + herb of the field before it grew; for the Lord God had not caused it + to rain upon the earth, and there was not a man to till the ground. + + "But there went up a mist from the earth and watered the whole face + of the ground. + + "And the Lord God formed man out of the dust of the ground, and + breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a + living soul. + + "And out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is + pleasant to the sight and good for food; the tree of life also in the + midst of the garden and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. + + "And the Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to + dress it and to keep it. + + "And out of the ground the Lord God made every beast of the field and + every fowl of the air and brought them unto Adam to see what he would + call them: and whatsoever Adam called every living creature, that was + the name thereof." + +There was silence when the story was finished. This God of whom the Hebrew +was telling was wise and mighty enough to make the world, yet he was +thoughtful and kind. He allowed man to be a helper. There was only one +God. They liked the story so well that they began to tell it also and soon +the beautiful story was known all through the land of Canaan. Little by +little it drove out the other stories and became the most loved one. + +And when the old Hebrews saw the power of the story that told of the _one_ +great God rather than the many false Gods, they just took many of the old +stories and made them good and wholesome for their own little children to +hear. + +So great were the stories that the old Hebrews told that you will find +many of them living still. You can read them in your own Bible in the book +of Genesis. + +Ever since that day years and years ago, men have been asking that same +old question, "Who made the world?" The greatest men of science and +history have tried to answer it, but none of them have found a more +beautiful answer to the question than this one which the old sheik told in +the days of the long ago and which you will find in the second chapter of +Genesis in your Bible. + + + + +HIS DEBT + + +It was a hot, sultry day in that little town near the Western coast of +Africa when Afa Bibo came. He had had a long, long journey from his home +among the Ntum people far to the south of Efulen. So he, as well as the +men who had brought him, was glad when they saw the rude little hospital +looming up at the end of the path. + +Years and years before, when Afa Bibo was just a little baby, his mother +and father, because they were superstitious and ignorant, had deliberately +infected the little one with yaws, one of the most loathsome of African +diseases. Little by little the disease had spread through his system till +now, a boy in his teens, he was gradually losing his sight. So they had +brought him to the white doctor who had done so much for boys and girls in +the neighborhood, to see if he could also help Afa Bibo. + +It took only a glance at the one eye to know that the sight was gone +forever. But there was a chance that the other might be saved. To be sure, +the inflammation was there and much damage had been done, but still there +was a chance. So they put him under the care of the nurse and began the +fight that was to tell whether he was to be one of the many African blind +ones who suffer so much and help so little, or whether he was to be like +other boys. + +It was a long, hard time for the little fellow. The eyes must be washed +with a solution that was very painful; he must spend long hours not only +lying in bed but with all light shut from his eye. He grew very weary with +it all. But after the months had gone, Afa Bibo went out of that hospital +with an eye as clean and white in the ball as yours or mine. + +Of course, he was anxious to go back to his people and tell them what +wonderful things had been done for him, but the Doctor said, + +"Afa, you can do much with your one good eye, but if you will stay right +here and go to school with the boys for a time, you can do much, much +more. You can be as good as one man, two men, and perhaps as much as +three. If you will stay, you can be a big man in your own tribe. It may be +you could be a teacher and tell the boys there how to read and write or it +might be--yes, it might be--you could be a doctor and make other boys to +see, just as we have done to you." + +So Afa Bibo stayed in the mission school and learned to study, and to +work, and to think. For a time he felt badly to think he had only one eye +when all his companions had two, but little by little he seemed to have +forgotten it. + +Then came the day when the Christian people of that little African church +were to pledge a definite number of days of service in carrying the +message of the Christ to others. Some were to go out and teach; some were +to carry Testaments and tracts written in Bulu to others; some were to +help about the mission station so that there might be a better place in +which to teach the ones who came. Some were to raise extra crops so they +might have something to give to those who went far out to teach. Every one +could give something, even though it was very different from what another +gave. + +As it neared the time for the service, the black people might be seen +coming from all directions. Some had walked five miles, some ten, and some +even twenty. All had something to eat so that they might stay to hear all +the good news that could be given in a day. They filled the little bare +building which the boys of the school had builded for a church; they +filled the window spaces; then they filled the yard about the church. Oh! +there were very many of them and all were eager for the service to begin. + +Holding the roof of the little church were large poles which had been +painted white and on these the pledges were to be made. So as the service +began, many looked at the poles and thought what a wonderful thing it was +to be allowed to give of themselves to the God who had become their own. + +Soon the pledging began. First to go was the old chief who had given up +his twenty wives that he might become a Christian. He was old. What would +he give? First he made a slanting line and then he crossed it. Ah! that +was ten days of service. + +Then others were ready, and some gave ten days, some one or two weeks, and +some could even give a month. The lines covered one pole and then another +as the people passed down the aisle and out of the building. + +Last of all came the boys of the school. How could they give? They were +only boys. But they could take of their play time till they had gained a +day or more to give. One marked after another and last of all it was the +turn of Afa Bibo. + +Very near to him stood the kind doctor who had made him free from the pain +and able to see the way as he came to the white pole. So he smiled one of +his rare smiles as he passed him. Then he made a slanting line and crossed +it; another and crossed it. That was twenty days. No boy had given as much +as that. But he was making another--twenty-five days. And he crossed the +third. Then with his shoulders square and resolve in his face he went out +with the rest. + +As the missionaries sat before their home on the following day, they saw +Afa Bibo coming across the yard to them. Calling the doctor aside, he +said, + +"Doctor, I am not satisfied with what I pledged yesterday. I want to give +more." + +"But, Afa," said the doctor, "already you have pledged thirty days. That +is a great deal for a boy to give. A pledge to God from you must be as +binding as His promise is to us. Work out the thirty days and then come +back and give Him more if you like." + +"But I am not happy about it," said the boy, "I want to give more." + +"I think you had better leave it just as it is, for I am sure you do not +know how long thirty days will be when you begin to give it all. Run along +and do your lessons. I think you have given much to God," said the +Doctor. + +Then Afa slowly came very near to the doctor. Looking up into his face, he +pulled down the lower lid of the good eye showing it to be white and free +from all soreness and pain. + +"Doctor," he said, "do you see that good eye? Well, God saved me that eye +and I have more to be thankful for than any one else in all that big +churchful yesterday. I owe him more than thirty days. Please, sir, I want +to pay back a little of what I owe him. Let me make it thirty-five." + +So together the doctor, who had given his life for God, and the little +black boy, who was just beginning to give, went to the church and put +another black mark on the tall white pole. And Afa Bibo went out to work +his thirty-five days for God. + +Were you to go among the Ntum people to-day, you would find there a man +who is beloved by all because he has loved to give of himself to his +people. He has a kindly face and a loving heart. It is Afa Bibo, the boy +who is still eager to pay for his one good eye. + + + + +HOW KAGIGEGABO BECAME A BRAVE + + +Kagigegabo sat in front of the wigwam watching the fire slowly die out. +Her heart was full of bitterness. For days she had watched the Braves get +ready for the long chase. They had painted their faces; they had given +their war cries; they had fasted and prayed. + +And now they had gone and the camp seemed very still. Oh! how she had +wanted to go! Why was she born a girl when she did want to be a Brave! +Girls could never do brave things--they had to stay at home, and tend the +fires, and hoe the garden. Everything a girl had to do, she hated. +Everything a boy had to do, she liked. Her name was Kagigegabo, which +meant "One who stands forever." That would be a great name for a Brave, +but she could never do anything that was worth while. She was only a +girl. + +Slowly she rose to bring the corn and grind it. There was little needed, +for the Braves of the wigwam had all gone--even Guka, her brother, had +gone. Before this she had watched the others go and then had had him to +cheer her. Oh, dear! Why was she a girl? + +Hearing a step behind her, she rose to find Wicostu, the oldest squaw of +the tribe, waiting to speak with her. + +"I have heard your thought," she said. "You think that to be a girl is to +be less than a Brave. It is not so. It is not so. To be a squaw one must +be very brave. We cannot go to hunt and to kill, but it takes no less of +courage to stay here and guard the tepees. It takes courage to bear +pain--it takes courage to be tired and not complain. You can be brave, +Kagigegabo, even though you must grow into a Mahala and sit by the fire. +The courage is not in the war paint and feathers--the courage is all in +the heart." + +Kagigegabo sat very still after Wicostu had left her. Over and over she +said to herself those last words of the old squaw--"The courage is all in +the heart." Perhaps after all she could be a Brave, such as Guka was +trying to be. + +Down toward the spring she ran to get the water for the meal when, +suddenly, a hand reached out of the bushes, and she was drawn into them. +When she tried to scream, a heavy band was placed over her mouth, and then +her hands were tied, her eyes were bandaged and she felt herself being +thrown on a pony. Oh! how fast they went!--like the wind it seemed. + +Who had taken her? Where was she going? What did they want? Frightened as +she was, she still was trying to think. + +Then, like a flash, there came to her something that she had heard the old +chief say when she had been trying to get closer to the council fire the +last night. + +"We shall go by the hill trail, for Eagle's Claw will surely have spies +about the camp. We cannot get through the valley alive." + +Perhaps she had been taken by the spies and was on her way to the enemy +camp of Eagle's Claw. Oh! What did they want? If only she were a Brave, +perhaps she would know what to do. Then there came to her the words of +Wicostu: + +"You can be brave. The courage is all in the heart." But to be brave when +one did not know what was going to happen--oh! that was hard. + +When the bandage was taken from her eyes, she was in the center of a +circle of old Braves. Very fierce they looked as she glanced about the +circle. Her knees shook till it seemed she must fall. Then she made a low +bow to the chief and pointed to her feet--a sign that she was ready to be +his slave. + +"Do you see that knife?" he screamed at her. "You shall die unless you +tell us by what path and to what place your Braves went to-day. Speak!" + +What should she do? If she told, the men would die. If she kept silence, +she must die. Her hands trembled. Then she remembered again the words of +Wicostu, "Courage is all in the heart," and smiling at the chief she +said: + +"Kagigegabo will lead you. She knows not the name, but the way." + +For a long time they counseled. Should they go? At last five of the Braves +were ready. They mounted her on a pony. Then they came to her with a great +bow and some poisoned arrows and said: + +"If you try to escape, these are for you. If you lead us wrong, these are +for you. If you lead us right, you shall have this young Brave," and they +led forth one of the strong, young Braves of the tribe. "Go." + +Out of the encampment went the six horses. Where should she go? She must +lead in the way of the hill. But how could she? Once she climbed a tree to +get a look out and so gained a little time. Once she led them where the +rock dropped sheer and bare, and again she gained time. But nearer and +nearer to the meeting place she came. + +Suddenly low at her feet she saw a tiny, white flower. It was the one used +by her mother to make the sweet drink that would make one sleep, and +sleep, and sleep. But if too much was taken, it meant death. A daring plan +came to her mind. Dare she do it? Dare she eat of it? Mother brewed +it--she must eat it as it was. They were still several hours from where +she knew her father was to be found. If her plan succeeded, she could +save him. + +Reaching down, she dug her feet into the sides of the little pony. +Immediately his heels went high in the air and she lay flat on the +ground. + +Quickly she gathered much of the little white flower and pushed it into +her dress. Then when the men came, she was lying with broken ankle on the +ground. The pain was intense, but the happiness that they must stop was +sweet to the girl. Over and over and over she said to herself, "Courage is +all in the heart. I can be a Brave." + +She took some of the little white flower and began to eat of it. + +"What is it?" said the men. "What do you eat?" + +"I eat the sweet flower of this little plant. If you eat of this, you +shall not thirst," said the girl. + +Now they had ridden far and hard and the day was very warm, so when the +men heard this, they bent and gathered bits of the plant. It was sweet and +pleasing to the taste, so they ate more and more of it. And the Indian +girl watched them and smiled when none could see. + +It was decided to get the evening meal while the oldest chief bound the +ankle of the girl. So they hurriedly cooked it. But before it was ready, +the leader leaned against the old tree and he was asleep. Then another and +another slept. Stronger than opium had been the flower that they had +eaten. + + * * * * * + +Kagigegabo watched them while her own eyes began to droop. She must not go +to sleep. Oh! what could she do? She must ride when they were asleep. What +could she do? She turned and twisted the broken ankle. That helped a bit, +for the pain was intense. She pulled great locks of her hair and tied them +about her fingers so that the blood would have to force its way about. And +after what seemed to her to be hours, she was still awake and the five +men were all sleeping. + +Slowly, very slowly, she pulled herself away from the fire out into the +bush where her pony was tied. Her feet seemed determined not to move and +she wanted so much to lie down and sleep. But she kept on till she had led +the pony away from the group. Then she mounted and started on her ride. + +But it was no use. She could not stay awake. Now what was she to do? They +were on the direct road to the valley. For a moment she hesitated. Then +quickly she tore her dress in strips. Taking a sharp stone, she cut her +arm and with the blood she made two pictures on a piece of wood--the one +showed five Indians asleep--the other showed an Indian girl by the road. +Taking the strips from her dress, she fastened the bit of wood to the +saddle. + +She took from her arm the circle of brass which would tell her father from +whom the message had come, and fastened it to the saddle. Then a cut of +the whip across the legs sent the pony flying down the path. + +After he had gone, the girl sat in a dazed way near the path. She was so +tired. If only they would hurry, then she could tell them which way to +go--but sleep came before the pony had gone even one mile. + +Five days later, Kagigegabo opened her eyes slowly and looked about. She +was lying on the skins in the wigwam of her mother. Her ankle was tightly +bound and she felt very stiff and sore. Across her wrist there was an ugly +cut. No one was about so she lay there trying to remember what had +happened. How long had she been there and where was her mother? + +A step sounded outside and an old war chief--her father--looked anxiously +into the tent. When he saw her eyes open, he came slowly in and gazed +long at the Indian girl on the bed and then went as slowly out again. + +When he came back, there were with him five other chiefs. Around the bed +they stood in a silent circle and Kagigegabo wondered what they were going +to do with her. Had she done wrong? Was she to be punished? + +But the old chief spoke: + +"Kagigegabo, you have saved the tribe from ruin, and because of your help, +we have captured the enemy, for whom we were searching. They have told us +of your bravery and of your wisdom. You were more full of courage than any +squaw we have ever known. You shall no longer be called Kagigegabo, but +you shall be called Aotonaka, the daring one." + +Then upon the arm of the girl who had wished she could be a Brave they +bound a red band--the red band of courage. + + + + +THE WHITE FLOWER OF HAPPINESS + +By Persis Richardson + + +The King sat in the library of the palace reading an old, old book--a book +written when the King's great-great-grandfather sat on the throne. The +King had never seen the book before and it was very interesting to him. +For the book told of a strange little plant that had grown in the kingdom +in those days of the old, old king. + +No matter how hard the people had to work, if the little plant was growing +in their homes, they were happy. Indeed, the book said that the flower of +the plant was so beautiful that no garden was complete without it; so in +the days of the long ago, it grew in the gardens of the rich and the poor, +while happiness and prosperity reigned in the land. + +Eagerly the king read the description of the little flower that grew on +this wonderful plant. It was white as the driven snow. It had heart-shaped +petals surrounding a wonderful heart of gold, and it was known as the +White Flower of Happiness. + +Now the King loved flowers dearly and there were many in his garden; but +he was sure he had never seen this little flower. So, because he wanted to +have one for his very own and especially because he wanted happiness and +prosperity for his people, he determined to find it. + +"Surely somewhere in the kingdom there must be a plant left if it grew so +common in the days of my great-great-grandfather," said the King. + +Then calling the heralds to him he said: + +"Ride forth and search. Go East, and West, and North, and South, and say +to my people, 'Search for the White Flower of Happiness, and when you have +found it, bring it to me that I may raise more seeds so that all may have +a chance to own it. 'Tis a little flower, white as the driven snow, with +petals that are heart-shaped around a heart of gold.'" + +Eagerly the people, both rich and poor, went to work, for they knew of the +wondrous beauty of the flower and wished it for their own. + +Now there were two people who were very sure they would be first to find +the flower. One was a rich woman who loved beautiful things. Her home was +the largest of any on the finest street in the royal city. She had many +and large gardens, cared for by the best gardeners to be found. Yet in the +summer-time, when they were glowing with hundreds of flowers, few there +were who could enjoy them. A high hedge surrounded them all and only her +friends were permitted to go through the iron entrance gate. + +This wealthy woman said to herself: "I will find the flower and it will be +easy to keep it secret from all others if I have it here behind the hedge. +Then I shall be sure of happiness in the future." + +So all of her gardeners were set to work to search for the White Flower of +Happiness. Wherever they found a plant of rare beauty, they bought it +hoping that it might be the plant she sought. Seeds of all kinds also were +planted. And in the blossoming time there were flowers in the gardens by +the thousands--but behind that great wall there was no flower that was +white as the driven snow, with heart-shaped petals surrounding a heart of +gold. + +There was also a man in the kingdom who thought he could surely find the +flower. He was a business man. + +"If I could find it," he said, "I would grow more plants and sell them to +the people at a great profit. Then I should quickly grow rich and there +would be no need for me to work." + +So he set his office force all to work to write letters to the gardeners +and seed-growers of the world. They described the little flower and +offered large sums for one single plant. But he, too, failed in his +search. It was not to be found. + +Down in the heart of the poorer section of the royal city there lived a +little old lady whom every one called Aunt Betsy. She was very poor; she +had only one room that she could call home, and her only companion was a +scrawny cat that every one else had driven away. But it loved her and she +loved it, and was glad to have it share her home. + +She was very lame and had to hobble away to her work every morning, yet +she was the cheeriest little body alive and every one loved her. + +Aunt Betsy, like all of her neighbors, was seeking the White Flower of +Happiness. + +"This old street with its tumble-down houses, and uneven sidewalks, and +tin cans surely needs a heap of something to cheer it," she would say. +"Now, if I could find just one plant, I would make this old alley the +finest place ever. Then the little children here could have some chance. I +wish I might find it." + +But no flowers grew where she lived or where she worked, so she couldn't +hope to find the plant. The only thing she could do was to save every +penny she could so that, if the King found the plant, she might possibly +buy a seed. + +Into an old tin cup she put the pennies, one by one, but it was very slow +work, for Aunt Betsy was very poor. + +One winter night as Aunt Betsy returned from work, she found a queer +looking bundle on her door-step and, on unrolling it, she found Bobby, one +of the neighbor's children. Now Bobby had no mother and only a poor +drunken father, who often beat him. And Aunt Betsy saw, as she unrolled +him, that his face was all tear-stained, so she knew what had been +happening. Bobby had crept away from the blows to come to his best friend +when in trouble--Aunt Betsy. + +Carefully she picked the little fellow up, carried him into her bare +little room, gave him a hot drink, and then tucked him all comfortably on +the couch which served as her bed. Tired from his day of play and work, +the little fellow was soon lost in sleep. + +Not so Aunt Betsy. Sitting by the fire, all she could see were the great +holes in the shoes she was drying. Bobby needed some shoes very badly, but +she had no money with which to buy some. + +"There is the money in the cup," said a voice within. + +"But I couldn't give that, for I want so much to buy a seed to bring +happiness to this alley," thought Aunt Betsy. + +"But a pair of shoes would bring happiness to Bobbie now," said the +voice. + +She looked again at the little swollen feet under the cover on the couch. +Then slowly, yet with a smile of infinite tenderness, she softly stole to +the cupboard, took the money from the little tin cup, drew on her old +shawl, and went out into the night. + +'Twas a very happy Bobbie who went back to his home in the morning, and +behind Aunt Betsy's stove were the little worn shoes. A little later a +little old woman went down the narrow stairs to her work and she sang as +she went. + +That night Aunt Betsy, hurrying past a florist's shop, bumped into a +barrel of waste that stood on the walk. Stopping abruptly, she saw a +wilted-looking plant in an old broken pot on the top of the pile. + +"Why, you poor little plant," said Aunt Betsy. "I'll just take you home +and love you; perhaps you will grow for me in my little upper room." + +So she carried it home, transplanted it into the old tin cup from which +she had taken the money, and then set it where the sunshine would find it +the very first thing in the morning. + +In two days the plant showed signs of life. In a week it stood tall and +firm. In two weeks there was a bud which Aunt Betsy watched with great +care. Would it be pink or red or yellow? She didn't care if only it were a +blossom. + +'Twas night when she came home from her work, but as soon as she opened +the door she knew that the little flower had opened, for the room was full +of the fragrance that it was sending forth. She hurried to the window and +she saw--oh, could she believe her eyes! She saw a little flower, white as +the driven snow. Its petals were heart-shaped and surrounded a heart of +wonderful gold. It was the White Flower of Happiness. + +During the night, the little plant stayed with her in the attic room, but +in the morning she carried it to the palace and gave it to the King. Thus, +through a simple loving old woman, the White Flower of Happiness was given +to a whole kingdom. + +But the strange thing about the plant was this: Whenever its owner kept +the flower only for self and did not share it with others, it withered and +died; but, when lovingly shared, it grew and blossomed and made happy, not +only its owner, but all to whom it went. It was in very truth to all--The +White Flower of Happiness. + + + + +THE SPEAKING PICTURE + + +There had been a great discussion in the High School all the week, and as +Friday drew nearer the excitement grew more and more intense. For Barton +High School had many girls from the Hill section of the town where the +mill owners lived, and also many girls from the River section where the +mill workers lived. + +There was to be an election for the president of the Senior Class and when +the names of the candidates for the presidency had been posted on the +bulletin board by the nominating committee, a mill girl headed the list. + +Such a thing had never been heard of in the school. Always the president +of the class had been the one who could entertain the class, who could +stand out prominently during class week, whose father would help to pay +the bills of the Commencement time. + +But at the beginning of the year, the class had decided to learn to do +things according to parliamentary law and to be democratic, and this was +the result. Never for a moment had the girls and boys of the Hill section +dreamed that a committee would dare to choose a River-section president. + +To be sure, the girl whom they had chosen had led the class both in marks +and in the debating club. Yes, she could make a splendid Commencement Day +speaker, but she was a River-section girl, and they just wouldn't have +it. + +So they argued and pleaded and tried to persuade their friends to make her +fail the election. Why, there would be no fun at all during Commencement +week if she led the class. She had nothing at all to spend for fun. + +Chief among the objectors had been Mary Waite. Her father owned the +largest mill and she had thought surely the place was to be hers. She had +even planned how she would entertain the class on the lawn of her home. +She was ready to do almost anything to upset the plans of the nominating +committee. + +So the group of girls were still scolding when they reached the door of +the museum about four o'clock on Thursday afternoon. Mary had an errand in +the picture gallery and the rest were to wait for her in the corridor +below. + +As she entered the gallery, she pulled from her book the assignment which +had been given to her: + +"Study the pictures in Gallery Nine and bring the name and the artist of +the picture that speaks most plainly to you." + +What an assignment! How could any picture speak to her when she was +feeling in such an unpleasant mood. She passed down one side and then +along the end of the gallery. She liked the children in this and the +flowers in that. But surely none would speak to her. + +Down another side she went, stopping more often to look at the things that +interested her. + +Suddenly she saw a picture of the Christ. It was at the end of the +gallery, and a wonderful light was thrown on it from a globe just above +the picture. The Christ was standing in a room and in his face was such a +tender, thoughtful look. + +Mary sat down in the seat nearest to her. She did not want to move nearer +lest she lose the rare expression of the face of the Christ. It had only +been a few weeks since she had been standing before the altar of the +church, making herself a gift to the Christ. So as she sat and watched +the picture, she thought to herself: + +"What a wonderful man he was! I should have loved to have had him look in +my face as he is looking into theirs. I wish I might have really seen +him." + +After a time she moved nearer. Then she could see the faces of the other +persons in the picture. From where she had been sitting, only the face of +the Christ had seemed to stand out, though one knew the others were there. +They were sitting about the table in a home. + +What a rude table it was! How roughly they were dressed! Why, they were +only poor people, yet the Christ was standing in their midst, giving them +to eat. + +She studied his face. How beautiful it was! How much she loved him! How +eager she was to give him her very best! What could she do to show her +love? And as she looked she heard a voice saying to her: "The poor ye have +always with you, but me ye have not always." + +Then somehow the faces of the men in the picture seemed like those of the +men who worked in her father's mill and in the face of the woman she saw a +likeness to Elizabeth Meeker. But the face of the Christ was still full of +love and tenderness. + +The head of the girl drooped as she sat long before the picture. What had +she against Elizabeth Meeker? Nothing except the fact that she was poor. +She was a girl that Jesus would have loved, for she was always dependable. +Yet Mary was trying to take away the greatest pleasure that might ever +come to that poor girl. + +She had no pretty home, she had little time for play; she hadn't even a +mother. Yet Mary knew she had been very, very unkind to her. + +And now the face of the Christ seemed searching her very soul: "The poor +ye have always with you, but me ye have not always. Inasmuch as ye have +done it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto me." + +There was a sound of a bell and Mary knew she must leave the room. One +last look she gave to the Christ of the picture. Then she smiled and +nodded her head. + +When she came to join the girls below, she said quietly: + +"Girls, let's give the school a surprise to-morrow. Let's go and vote for +Elizabeth Meeker, since so many of the class want her for president, and +then prove to the rest that we can still have a good time during +Commencement week. Father will let us use the grounds when we like and we +can all have a part in the planning of the fun. I should just like to see +if she really can make a class president as well as we girls from the +Hill." + +And though the girls couldn't understand why she had changed, yet they +were glad to follow her lead. + +That night Mary Waite sat before her desk in her pretty room on the Hill +and looked again at the assignment which had been given to her-- + +"Study the pictures in Gallery Nine and bring to me the name of the +picture and the artist who painted the one that speaks most plainly to +you." + +And in no uncertain letters she wrote: + + Christ in the Home of the Lowly. + By L'Hermitte + + Mary Waite. + + + + +THE QUEST + + +Once there came to the land of the Every-day a messenger from the King. In +his hand he carried glasses to help him in the search which he was making. +Under his arm he was carrying a scroll. On his face there was a look of +deep concern. + +How could he ever find the most beautiful thing in all the world? There +were so many beautiful things that he had no idea even where to begin. Yet +this was his commission: "Of all the beautiful things, choose for me the +most beautiful." + +So the messenger called for heralds and sent them forth to ask of the +people of the Every-day their help in choosing for the King. + +"Bring to me your most beautiful thing," he said. "Then I will choose from +these things what I deem most beautiful." + +And one brought a wonderful gem. It was clear as crystal; it sparkled in +the light and seemed to beg to be chosen. The rays of the noonday sun +shone through the stone and all the people cried with one voice: + +"How beautiful! How wonderful! We have never seen the like!" + +"Surely," thought the messenger, "I shall never find anything so rare as +this. I will take it to the King." + +But a voice cried: "Wait, oh, messenger, wait! That which is dead can +never be the most beautiful thing. Surely I have here that which far +exceeds the stone which you have seen. I beg you look at this." + +Then he opened the cover of the great box that he carried. + +In a bed of shimmering white there lay a beautiful rose. Its leaves were +still wet with the dew of the garden. Its petals were as perfect as +perfect could be. Then as the sun shone into the box, the exquisite rose +caught also the rays of the sun and slowly the beautiful petals began to +unfold. + +There was silence in the group of people about the box. What a wonderful +thing the man had brought to the messenger! It had beauty, but it had also +life. + +Yet even as they looked there came another. By his side walked a great +dog. His hair was like silk; his eyes were tender as a child's; his face +was as knowing as a person's. Quietly his owner brought him forward, +saying: "This is to me far more beautiful than the rose. This has beauty +and life, but it has also usefulness. It has saved the lives of many." + +And he patted the head of the faithful animal. + +Then a mother pressed through the crowd and said: "Surely no animal is so +beautiful as a child. See! here is my little one. She has beauty and life +and usefulness--and she has also the magic beauty of innocence. See her +hands, and her little feet, and her golden curls. I am sure there is no +more beautiful thing in all the world than my baby." + +Then the messenger sighed. What could he do? He just could not find the +thing that the King had asked him to find. All were so beautiful. Thinking +to be by himself, he walked away. Into a path alone by himself he went. + +Then he heard voices, and, brushing aside the branches, he saw a young +maiden who played with a little child. Her touch was very tender as she +played the childish game. And when they had finished, the messenger held +his breath, for the child had thrown a tiny arm about her neck and the +yellow curls of the baby were close to the brown ones of the maiden. And +the maiden's face was wreathed in a wondrous smile. + +"That is beauty," said the messenger. "That is rare beauty. But why is she +so beautiful? I must see." + +Quickly he unfastened the glasses from their case and turned them to the +picture before him. Then, because they were magic glasses used only by the +King, he could see why she was beautiful. + +In her mind he found clean thoughts; in her life he found kind deeds; in +her soul he found a high ideal; in her heart he found a mother-love for +little children. + +Then the messenger took from his arm the scroll which he carried and with +his stylus he wrote these words: + +"In all the world I find no more beautiful thing than a maiden who is +reaching toward life's highest goal--a noble womanhood--with love to show +her the way." + + + + +THE TREASURE + + +Four girls they were--four laughing girls from the High School. For three +happy years they had studied together and played together. But now +Ambition had whispered to them. To each the message had been the same: + +"Hidden in the way that is ahead you will find a treasure. It is of all +treasures most valuable. It will bring to you comfort and happiness all +the days of your life. Seek and ye shall find." + +And at once they began to wish to find the treasure. Not to each other +even did they tell the secret that Ambition had whispered, for then +another might find the treasure. Each in her own way began to seek, and +for a time their paths still led in the same direction. + +But one bright, beautiful day they came to a place where the ways parted. +Many roads led from the one road and on every road there were many people. +Now what should be done? In which way was the treasure to be found? If one +chose the wrong way, one might never find it. + +There was little time to stand and think, for the crowds pressed on +behind, always urging them forward. Into one they must go at once. + +"Surely this is the road," said the first, looking down a beautiful, long +roadway. "One would certainly find something worth while in such a +beautiful place as this. Here are lights and music; here are songs and +merriment; here are people who seem as happy as the day. I shall enter +here, and after I have danced and played with the brightly dressed girls +whom I see, I shall hunt diligently for the treasure." + +So she entered the way of Pleasure and, because there was time for naught +else but play, her days passed and she found it not. + +"That road does not appeal to me," said the second. "The red of the +lights, the noise of the music, the laughter of the people seem annoying +to me. I do not care to go with you longer. I like this yellow way. There +must be a great sun to light the way, for it is so beautiful. Here, too, +every one is searching, so I am sure they must have knowledge that the +treasure is here. I will enter and find it." + +Then she, too, entered the way of her choice and it was the way of Gold. +All about her were traces of treasure, but there were many who pushed her +aside. She grew weary with her search; she liked little the people who +were her companions in the way, and she found there no treasure that +brought comfort and happiness all her days. + +"I like little those long, uninteresting roadways where it all is glitter +and noise," said the third. "I like little the great crowds of people. I +shall take this hilly road where few are working. They seem eager to reach +the top. Now all treasure is hidden in the hillsides. I shall climb here +and search." + +So she entered the way of Fame. It was very steep; at first it seemed that +she could find no place to put even one foot. She must cling to very +uncertain bits along the way to help her to move up, yet little by little +she climbed. It took years and years, and one by one her companions +dropped by the way. Those who also neared the top had little of +companionship for her. They envied her her footholds; they tried to get +ahead of her in the way. Then she knew that she could never find the Great +Treasure, for she was lonely, and a lonely heart is never satisfied and +happy. + +"Which shall I choose?" said the fourth girl, looking all about her. "I +think I shall try this"--but just then a voice said: "I am tired and ill. +Will you help me a bit in my way?" + +'Twas an old, old man. His clothes showed signs of travel and his face was +very sad. Taking his hand, she led him for a time till he came to a +resting place. + +Then she was about to go back and choose her road, but a child's voice +said: "Won't you help me up this hill? I fall back when I try to climb." +And she went still farther into the way. + +And then, when the child had been given over to his mother, a boy needed +help in carrying a load, and as she talked with him she forgot the other +road and began to see the beautiful things ahead in the road over which +she was traveling. + +There were flowers to pick and give to the sad; there were cooling springs +where one could find cups of water for the weary; there were resting +places under the trees to which one could lead the aged. And she had +forgotten that she came to seek for a treasure for herself in her +happiness in helping others. + +So the days passed, filled to the brim with loving, helping deeds. The +music which she heard was the song of the birds; the beautiful colors to +cheer came in the flowers and in the sunset; the hills in the way were +easily climbed, for there was much of friendship as she toiled upward. + +One day in her path she saw a bent old lady in whose one hand was a book +and in whose other hand was a basket. She seemed heavily loaded and the +girl hastened to help her. + +"Let me carry your basket," she said cheerily. "Put the book on the top +and I can take them both." + +Then a smile came over the face of the woman as she said: "The basket +seems to be heavy, for in it is a great treasure. But he that hath this +treasure finds no difficulty in carrying it. It is yours, child--all +yours. Let me read to you from the book." + +Very slowly she opened the great book and read: "Inasmuch as ye have done +it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto me." + +Then the gray cloak fell aside and her raiment was shining as the sun. Her +beautiful face grew more beautiful as she handed the basket to the girl, +saying: + +"'Tis the command of our King--to him that hath shall be given and he +shall have abundance! Take your treasure--the love of the people along the +way, but take also the gift of the King--comfort and happiness all the +days of your life. For you entered the way of Love to seek for your +treasure and where Love is, there God is also." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIRESIDE STORIES FOR GIRLS IN THEIR +TEENS*** + + +******* This file should be named 27343.txt or 27343.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/7/3/4/27343 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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