Newspaper Page Text
4 (704) THE
| F amily 1
IF I HAD KNOWN.
If I had known that happier days
"Waited upon the safer waye
Of wisdom pnrlioat down f/vimd
My feet upon that solid ground.
Nor Vanity nor folly yield
The richer harvest and the field
Brings forth,?If I had only known
How many thorns that field has grorwn.
I sought where trumpet tones proclaim
The louder notes of earthly fame,
And knew not that who seek her praise
Enter upon forgotten days.
And I,?it is the plaintive lore
Of one who, had he known before,
'Might have discerned that love alone
Abides when all the worlds have flown.
A Lazarus before my gate
Neglected long had long to wait
The tardy pity that may save,?
And found his refuge in the grave.
And yet amid the thoughtless throng
And hasting multitudes his wrong
Cried unto heaven, for heaven alone
Gave ear;?Alas! If I had known.
The earth-born sorrow, and the pain
Of countless hopes the world has slain,?
Will not the Lord of 'Mercy know
This secret litany of woe?
When He shall say, "As ye have done
Unto the least of these, to one
Of these, my brethren, so have ye
To me, so have ye done to me."
Should not a quickened ear impart
These lessons to a listening heart
Uest we before Hi0 judgment throne
Can only say,?"If I had known."
Savannah, Va. Benjamin C. Moorman.
"THE LORD'S LEISURE."
Janet Turnbull, had arrived as she herself
expressed it, at the end of her tether. As
she sat at the table in the little room behind
her shop, her level brows were knit, and the
lines about her middle-aged mouth were cruel.
A day-book lay in front of her, and the light
from the oil lamp glowed mercilessly upon the
page. There was no dubiety about the figures
registered there, the balance was on the wrong
side.
Little more than two years before, Janet,
with high-pride and hope in her heart, had
opened a little trimming shop, in which she
had invested the whole of her savings, as well
as a legacy of a hundred pounds she had rennivn/1
frnm Vint* lofo nmr?l attaw A -.V ?? ~
. Vv? ^ivui 1IV1 lUbv Vjupiv/J ci . II OUUtUII vvuman
of the best type, Janet had drifted south
with a countryman of her own, who had a substantial
interest in good Manchester business.
She had been his housekeeper for nine years,
and at his death determined to make a bid
for that independent career which is the ideal
of so many of her type. To the little house
above the shop she had transplanted her old
mother from the haughs of Selkirk, and nobody
could ever have convinced her that the
old lady had died of sheer homesickness and
heart-hunger for the braes of Yarrow. She
had simply faded away, and when Janet buried
her in "Withington churchyard, and returned
to her little, lonely house, she had only wondered
why fulfilment in this weary world so
often falls short of desire and achievement.
She knew now, as she sat there in the dim
kand lonely silence face to face with her utter
PRESBYTERIAN OF THE S<
headings
failure, that honorable service is a very safe
haven for a single woman, and that the less
she has to do with personal ambitions the better.
When she had served in Mr. Ilalyburton's
house in Withington Avenue, she had often
felt the lack of a shop to which she could
run for odds and ends, a shop that woxild correspond
to the areneral em nor in m nf the nlrl
border village. Casually mentioning this fact
to the few acquaintances she possessed, they
had all agreed that that part of Withington
stood in the need of some such emporium, and
when Janet took the little shop in Ardwell
Street they carried such custom to her as they
could. But it takes a great many two-penny
reels and penny bundles of tape to pay rent
and taxes and keep even a single woman. At
the end of two years Janet was insolvent, and
she had just faced the bitter truth that when
she realized her stock, even allowing to the uttermost
farthing for it, she would be in debt
to her landlord for the sum of fifty pounds.
It would take her a year to earn that, even
if she went back to service immediately, and
saved every penny.
Janet herself had no great turn for business,
and little ideas how to make an attractive
shop or to dress her window with pretty tritles
to lure the passer-by. She had likewise over
looked the fact that it was an easy tram-ride
into the heart of the city, where pretty trifles
could be bought galore and reek sold cheaply
by the dozen. Janet was a religious woman,
a staunch member of the Presbyterian Church,
but that night she was in a mood to quarrel
with the Almighty. She felt that He had not
doiie fairly by her, for, even in her most hardup
times, she had never reduced her Sabbath
offering, or turned a deaf ear to missionary
appeal.
"I'm gettin' desperate," she said to herself;
"I'll hae to see Mr. Holland. I may as
weel gang noo."
Mr. Holland was her landlord, a house agent
of standing, who lived some little distance otf.
It was about half-past eight when Janet called
at his house, feeling that she could not sleep
another nicrht without, knnwinc what iv?s tn
become of her. He had just dined well, and
was in an amiable mood, but when he heard
Miss Turnbull's business his face fell.
"I'm very sorry that you've let the time run
on so long, Miss Turnbull; I could have let
the shop twice over at Lady Day, and now I
may have it on my hands. I'll have to hold
you responsible for the rent, of course, unless
you are so fortunate as to sub-let it."
"Oh!" said Janet, with a small gasp, recalling
the fact that she had taken the place on a
five years' agreement, and that the third year
had not yet expired. "But where am I to get
it, Mr. Holland? Ye must just put me in the
gaol."
The house agent smiled at her distress. He
had a respect for her as a hard-working woman,
but thought nothing of her business ability.
It was only the strong recommendation
of the Presbyterian minister that had induced
him to let her the premises at all.
"Does your friend, Mr. Falconer, know
about this?"
"He kens I have not been getting on. I
think I must go and see him this very night.
I don't know where to turn. I suppose ye
) U T H [July 3, 1912
would give me some time to pay afore ye summoned
me!"
"There isn't any question of summoning you
present, Miss Turnbull. I'll try to let the
premises, and the business as a going concern.
If some pushful person would come along, it
might be made to pay even yet."
Janet was doubtful, but as the agent's tone
was not menacing, she perceived that he did
not wish to press or harry her. There was no
need, she would press and harry herself.
The rent was twenty-eight pounds a year;
calculating it tor three years, it amounted to
just eighty-four pounds. "When should she ev.
er save eighty-four pounds, and the interest on
it? Her face grew grey, as she turned away
from the house agent's gate, and she put her
hand to her side as if something stabbed her.
"Lord, if ye dinna help me, I'm dune," she
said desperately, as she turned blindly round
the next corner to seek the minister's house.
It was a Friday night, and Mr. Falconer was
busy with his sermon, and not enamoured of
interruption. But he was a good natured man,
always ready to listen to the cares or troubles
of his people. He had a very high opinion indeed,
of Janet Turnbull, all the more that she
never complained, but turned a brave face to
the weather always. But neither he nor his
Wlfp linrl f lin oir. ollnof i/lnn aP nn4-nnl
.. oiintiiv ot iucu wi btic; actual stair
of her business affairs.
When she was shown into the bright, comfortable
little study, the sight of Mr. Falconer's
cheerful face seemed to mock at her.
"It is quite easy to be cheerful," she might
have said, "when you are a popular minister,
with a comfortable salary, and a little bit of
your own in the bank, and a free house besides,
for the rent of which you can be liarHed."
"Good evening, Miss Turnbull; I wouldn't
have seen anybody but you. I'm busy with
my sermon, but I'll give yon ten minutes.
What do you want!"
She briefly related the straits in which she
found herself, and the minister listened in
quite genuine concern. He was a practical
person, and laid his finger on all the weak
spots without a moment's hesitation.
"You ought not to have gone on so long,
Miss Turnbull. Not one of us had an inkling
that you were doing so badly. How dared you
give half a sovereign to the Foreign Missions
last week? Was it your last one?"
"Yes; and as long as I had it I would gie.
My mother aye said it didna pay to cheat the
Lord, but He's forgotten me."
"Not He. He'8 just waiting till you give
Him a chance," said the minister, with a little
touch of flippancy, which some found fault
with, not realizing that it covered a very deep
and real feeling. "Just wait here till I apeak
to Mrs. Falconer. She's got a lady stopping
with her who might be interested in all this."
He left the room, and Janet, too restless to
sit still, began to pace up and down in it.
'Pll A urowA *? " - - - ? ?^"
i UV1& ncii iimu^ uuurs uti nit; iiuiusier js im*
hie, and beside the open Bible a small Book
of Common Prayer, which by some impulse Janet
lifted up. It might be that she was seeking
a message. It happened to he open at the
fifth day of the month, and Janet's eyes ran
over one of the psalms for the day. They
were arrested by these words: . "0 tarry thou
the Lord'8 leisure; be strong, and He shall comfort
thine heart."
She was sitting with the little book in front
of her, when the minister returned, and asked
her to come to the drawing room and see his
wife. "She has a visitor, Miss Turnbull, ?
Miss Gardiner, froifi Edinburgh, an old school
friend, who has had to turn out in the world.