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(i (30) T H E I
Our Boys
I
A DANDELION.
A. dandelion in a meadow grew,
Among the waving grass and cowslips yellow;
Dining on sunshine, breakfasting on dew,
He was a right contented little fellow.
12ach morn his golden head he lifted straight,
To catch the first sweet breath of coming day;
Kach evening closed his sleepy eyes to wait
Until the long, cool night had passed away.
One afternoon, in sad, unquiet mood,
1 paused beside this tiny, bright-faced flower,
And begged that he would tell me, if he could,
The secret of his joy through sun and shower.
He looked at me with open eyes, and said:
"I know the sun is somewhere shining clear;
And when I cannot see him overhead,
T try to be a little sun right here."?Exchange.
LITTLE GENTLE HAND.
BY AGNES W. STORER.
In the days when barons ruled the countryside
from their strong castles and burghers controlled
the towns, their lived in a certain free
city of Germany a wealthy merchant named
Winkelreid.
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his household. Her poor body was undersized
and misshapen, it is true, but her face was
beautiful, with its large, tender blue eyes, broad
white brow, sweet mouth and rose-leaf skin, the
golden curls framing its loveliness and flowing
softly down over the poor little back as if they
wanted to hide the cruel deformity. Also the
child's spirit was as beautiful as her face.
Frau Winkelreid would not believe that the
terrible fall which Thekla had when she was five
years old would leave her a cripple. But her
rebellious spirit was rebuked one day when the
child said: "Mother, doesn't God love us just
as much as he did before I fell down stairs?"
and she learned that peace could only come
through accepting the sorrow that had come to
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Before long Theckla was able to walk about
and was well though never strong again. No
one thought of the poor twisted back save to feel
a great tenderness for the child, and to wonder
if it had anything to do with her angelic spirit.
At the time of our story most of the learning
and culture had its home in the towns, in just
such families as that to which Thekla belonged,
so the little maid learned to read and had for
her very own the chief treasure of her father*>i
library?a Testament, one of those first printed.
Poring over the Book day after day, the child
learned much of the spirit of the Christ-Child,
and her faith was so simple and direct that she
lived very close to God and was one of those of
whom the Master said, "Of such is the kingddm
of heaven." Indeed she developed a strange
power of bringing out the best in every one on
whom she laid her frail little hand.
Herr Winkelreid's household was a large one
and serving men and women were just about as
human then as they are today. There were often
disgraceful bickerings below stairs, and the
cook's voice would rise in shrill accents as she
boxed the ears of an unlucky scullion who
happened to be in her way. But let Thekla appear
upon the scene, lay her hand on the cook's
arm and look at her with great, wondering eyes
and the storm would soon wear away in angry
mutteri^gs that became rough words of apology
to the boy, whose whimperings had ceased when
he saw the gracious faaulein come through the
doorway.
So it came to pass that peace reigned in that
RESBYTERIAN OF THE S<
and Girls
house, and all who knew Thekla began to think
of her as a beautiful angel whom God had sent
down from heaven to bless them. And her
fame spread throughout the city and men called
her Gentle Hand. r
When Gentle Hand was about ten years old
she had need of all her faith and courage. Her
beautiful young mother died, her father met
with heavy losses, and, having to undertake a
long journey, was obliged by reason of the un
settled times to take his little daughter with
him. The child was made as comfortable as
possible in a padded and cushioned box which
was strapped to the broad back of a pack horse,
while her faithful nurse, Marta, rode close beside
her. But the days were long, the inns at which
the nights were spent very rough, and Thekla's
back ached and her heart was sore, though she
bravely kept back the tears and had a smile
ready for her father whenever he came to speak
to her.
On the third day of the journey darkness began
to fall when the town at which the travelllers
meant to spend the night was half a league or so
away. As the horses plodded on through a bit
of woodland which obscured the little light there
was, there came a sudden rush and a confusion
of cries as a body of men, well-mounted and
armed, fell upon the merchant's little company.
The fight was soon over; Tlerr Winkelreid and
his men, taken completely by surprise, were
quickly overpowered, the merchant killed at the
first onset.
The victors, searching for booty, came upon a
large box carefully strapped to one of the
horses, and seized upon it as a prize. What was
their astonishment to find that it contained a
little girl whose long, curling hair shone like the
gold they sought! Anger, amazement, disappointment,
were all expressed in the faces gathered
about, but upon that of the leader, Baron
Ulrich von Eisingen, a scowl of black rage
settled.
"Our trouble for naught! Caspar with a
broken head, the gray mare gone lame, and all"
the booty a girl child!" he thundered. "Thrust
her through with your blade, Heinrich, and
back to the castle with all speed."
Just then great blue eyes ODened and looked
trustfully into tlae dark faces upon which the
torch-light flickered, and a tiny hand was laid
upon Heinrich's arm. The man trembled, while
a look of wonder grew on his face.
"Where am I? and where is father?" said a
sweet voice, as, instinctively recognizing the
leader, :he little hand was transf?>rrcd to th^
baron's arm. Then a wonderful change took
place in the heart of that bold and wicked man.
He was frightened and shook like one with an
ague at the touch of that little maid! As she
looked at him a great loathing of his own cruelty
and greed came to him; he remembered his ladymother
long dead, who had taught him to pray
to the good God and told him stories of the
blessed saints. Surely this child, with the lovely
face and srentle voice, was an ancpl spnt +n
mind him of another life?of a heaven above!
The rough men looked at their leader in amazement.
All hut Heinrich?he was too much occupied
in winking away some strange water that
troubled his eyes. As they looked first at the
baron, then at the child who smiled upon them
behold the miracle was wrought in their hearts,
too, and one by one they fell on their knees praying
the good God to forgive them.
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) U T H iJanuary 10, 1912
Then Heinrich bethought him of a woman he
had struck down in the fight, and finding Marta,
he discovered that she was not much hurt, but
quite able to care for the child.
Back to the castle went Baron Ulrich and his
train, Gentle Hand and her nurse in their
midst. There we must leave her, in that stronghold
once a robbers' den, but we may believe that
the marvellous stories which were noised abroad
were true. The country folk told of a baron as
strong for good as he had been for evil, of prisoners
released, travelers entertained, of ready succor
for the poor and helpless. And many years
later they told of that same baron's gallant death
while fighting for the right to worship God in
the way pointed out in the wonderful Book that
Gentle Hand had taught him to love.?Intel
ligencer.
"WHEN THE SMOKE WAS DIVING."
By the Rev. Charles N. Sinnett.
"I wish that you would wait until the afternoon
before you think of starting on voxir
journey, sir." said Helen Ra>r eagerly.
Mr. Grant, to whom she spoke, was nearly
ready for his drive across the prairies. The
man who was to take him to Rutledge had gone
to borrow a fur coat to protect him against
the wind, although he had assured him that
the day would continue bright and clear. This
had been cheering news, as the teacner was
anxious to reach his destination as quickly as
he could. So he looked wonderingly into
Helen's gray eyes.
"I know that many think this will continue
a good day," she said. "But father and I
were among the first settlers who came here.
The best lessons that we have learned in these
years cost us so much that we are glad to share
them with everyone that we can. I am sure
that you will wait until the afternoon; it will
only be a little while."
"But you do not give me any definite reason."
"Just stand here at the window with me,
sir, and watch the smoke as it blows from the
chimneys of yonder houses. It jerks itself out,
and then dives down at the ground, like a boy
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you know well how the smoke often rolls persistently
upward on many windy days, and
then spreads out like a feather."
"Yes, I have noticed that. So this diving
smoke tells you that the air is full of mischief?
But to-morrow will be Thanksgiving Day. I
have eoine a long distance that I might give a
Thanksgiving surprise to one of my sisters at
Rutledge. We used to play together so much
when we were children. She was like a second
mother when my own mother died. It
would give me such joy to be with her and her
family!"
Mr. Grant looked eagerly up at the bright
sky as he enumerated the many things which
he would miss if this journey was not made.
But again he watched the smoke writhing and
plunging.
"It was on the morning of the Thanksgiving
Day that all who were in the Dakotas
remember so well," Helen Ray went on, "that
we first noticed the peculiar motions of the
smoke from our neighbor's chimney, for no
town stnr?rl h?rp on tViio nm-t nf tVio n?oii.io
then. My father grew anxious and urged some
travelers to come in and wait with us. Before
^n hour the great Thanksgiving Day blizzard
rushed across the State,* and many lives
were lost."
"You were sitting here by this very window
watching then, I doubt not."
"No; that was the year that I had to lie
on the bed yonder. But I could see the smoke
from that place. At first it seemed so hard
to be sick. But God showed me that one may