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FRIDAY, JANUARY 23, 1920,
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The Garden Lady’s Stories
e et S i o SR
(Written for the United States School Garden Army, Depart
ment of the Intericv, Bureau of Education.) .
e e R S
Might-Be-You and the Fruit of Gold
An Old Story in a New Dress
_ PART lIL
SHE did everything that the direc
tions said; and in due time there
came up a beautiful vine which bore
lovely golden flowers and a fruit
that turned at length to a golden
color.
“What was the name of the plant?”
said the Garden Lady. “We call it
Pumpkin. They called it in that coun
try, Fruit of Gold. \
“Now, in a neighboring town,
there was a great Fair held every
year, and the Prince gave a prize, a
sum of money, to the person who
shovied the finest and most beautiful
and delicious fruit. This year a tim
id, poor-looking girl in a faded cloak
came forward when the prize-win
ning number %as called. She took
the prize with a timid little courtesy
and disappeared in the crowd. That
afternoon, Might-Be-You slipped up
to her attic room with a precious
bundle under her cloak. It was the
gown of satiny-silk.
“‘How did she get away and back,’
said Billy, the Boy-Next-Door, ‘with
out being caught by the hateful step
mother and her daughters?’
“Oh!” said the Garden Lady,
“Why-a-You see, they had been in
vited to spend that day at a great
christening party for the child of
one of their rich friends in the coun
try, and they didn’t get back home
till night. When they came back,
Might-Be-You had supper all ready
for them.” ‘
The children and the Gardeg Lady
drew a deep breath of relief. ‘
“Two weeks later the great ball
was given. The stepsisters kept
Might-Be-You running till she nearly
dropped, helping to get them ready.!
And Might-Be-You did her best to
make them look as well as possible.
She was very, very happy; for, hid-i
den away in her little attic room,
where the sisters scorned to come,
was a lovely gown that she had
bought with the prize for the Fruit
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BRUMBY’S GARAGE, CHURCH STREET, MARIETTA
of-Gold, and had made for herself by
Esewing late into the night. It was of
very airy, shimmering, satiny-silk,
‘dleicate as .mist and gleaming as
moonlight. It was embroidered with
a border of flowers like those on the
god-mother’s hat ,all flowers of the
vear from snow-drop to starry blue
asters. Might-Be-You never knew
just how she did it. She was sure
that the flowers grew over-night
sometimes,
“Well, after the sisters had left, all
impatient and cross, as usual, Might-
Be-You, just as happy and sweet as
ever, hastened to put on her beautiful
gown over the soft white garments
from the little old chest. She had beau
tiful slippers and stockings, too. The
stockings were her mother’s; the slip
pers she had bought at a great bar
gain from a gypsy peddler who had
stopped one day at the garden to rest
on the way. She was a queer, tall, yet
not unhandsome woman, with a sun
browned skin, a Roman nose, thick
black hair, and a pair of keen hazel
grey eyes that looked one through
and through. She wore a dress that
had the rich, fading colors of autumn
leaves.
“‘These are magic slippers,” she
said. ‘They are very @#d. They cdme
from the land of Egypt. A princess
wore thep, and they brought her hap
piness. They are the finest spun glass,
and no one can wear them who has
not a pure and tender heart; for they
would fly into splinters and blow
away like bits of moonlight if any
one unworthy should try to wear
them. You shall have them, though,
for a bunch of those flowers that
grow over there.’
“ ‘Those,” said Might-Be-You, ‘are
called Heart’s Ease. But you must let
me pay you some money, too.’
“ ‘No,’ said the gypsy. ‘I will take
nothing else.” And as she smiled at
Might-Be-You, the maiden had the
queer feeling of remembering some-
thing very pleasant, yet not knowing
‘what it was. : e
“So, as I was saying, Might-Be-You
put on these lovely things and,
throwing arpund her the old cloak
that had been her mother’s, the
Cloak-of-Loving-Memories, she ran to
the palace and up the steps and past
the astonished footmen like a streak
of moonlight. Just on the stroke of
twelve she stood at the ballroom
door!” !
“Oh!” gasped the children. “What
happened then? Didn’t she go back
to rags?”
“Aha!” said the Garden Lady. “I
see you have caught me. No! She
didn’t. The Prince saw her at once
and hastened to meet her. ;
“ ‘At last you have come,’ he said.
‘I see you wear my token, tife Crystal
Slivpers.’ Then he led her to the plat
form where stood the thrones.
“Might-Be-You looked more beau
tiful than ever. ;I‘he gld worn cloak,
the Cloak-of-Loving Memories, had
changed to cloth of gold, and the
night dew that had settled on her
hair had turned to a circlet of dia
monds. But the stepmother and step
sisters suddenly grew tarnished and
shabby, and their faces became so
‘ugly that people shrank away from
‘them, and they slunk out of the hall.
“‘This lady,” said the Prince, ‘I
choose from all the land to be my
wife. She knows how to serve a vlain
man as if he were a prince; she
knows how to draw from the dark
earth its thoughts of gold; she knows
how to weave the fine silk of dreams
from the cobwebs of misfortune; she
brings Heart’s Ease to the world
worn; she gois shod with magic on
her errands of loving service. I ask
nothing better than life with her.’ ”
“Tell us the Prince’s name,” said
the children.
“Well,” said the Garden Lady,
‘“‘some people call him Opportunity.
Might-Be-You called him Heart’s De
sire.”’
FIVE-MINUTE smmm]ll
l (Editor’s Note: In ihls column each week |} |
we shall print a very short sermon, which
‘ we have asked the local ministers to write.) I
el Dot e
REV. W. T. HAMBY ’
I am Not Ashamed of the Gospel—
Rom. 1-16.
There was a time when Saul of
Tarsus was ashamed of the gospel of
Christ. His pride revolted at the
story of the manger, the toil of the
carpenter’s shop and the shame of
the cross. He looked for a Messiah-
King whose reign should be more tri
umphant than that of David and more
splendid than that of Solomon. He
was ashamed of the go#pel when he
guarded the garments of those who
slew Stephen; but perhaps the forti
tude of the martyr and the light on
his face when he fell beneath the|
shower of stones, were goads in the
conscience of Saul that helped to pre
pare him for the great awakening
that came to him on the Damascus
road.
He had sought and obtained au
thority from the chief priest and rul
ers of the Jews to persecute and make |
havoc of the Church of Christ and
bent on this misgion, near Damascus, I
a light above the brightness of the
midday sun fell on his path. Con-t
fused, convicted, he cried: “Who art
thou Lord?” The answer came, “I
am Jesus. whom thou persecutest.”
Saul of Tarsus surrendered uncon
ditionally to Christ that day and to
the day of his martyrdom and trans
lation, was never ashamed of the gos
pel.
Why should anyone be ashamed of |
the gospel? We should be ashamed[
of our sins; our rebellion against God '
and the light, but we should “glory
in the cross by which we are cruci-l
fied unto the world and the world
unto us.”
I am not ashamed of the gospel
because: (a) It is good news. The
angel that appeared to the shepherd’s |
said, “Behold, I bring you glad tid
ings of great joy that shall be to all
people.” The good news of a Sa- |
vior from sin—*‘“the Lamb of God |
that taketh away the sin of the!
world.” That was a great day for!
our viorld, for it offered freedom’
from the guilt and dominion of sin.|
The gospel iss God in Christ Jesusl
reconciling the world unto Himself.l
It is God-spell, that is, God undertak-}
ing the redemption of the race. It|
is God’s power unto salvation. ;
I am not ashamed pf the gospel |
because: (b) It is adapted to ‘the |
needs of all men everywhere. Con-|
fucianism is for the Chinese mind. |
Shintoism for Japan, and Brahman- |
ism for India, but the gospel has thel
same influence and appeal for thei
Occident as for the Orient. The little
land of Palestine, immortal in song |
and story, is a meeting place of all|
climates. Yonder. in full view, is a|
mountain crowned with eternal snow
and not far from its base the flowers
and fruits of the tropics bloom and
grow. So God used this land as a
| pulpit from which tc send out a glor-'
ious message of forgiveness and re
generation for the race. He brought
under contribution all temperaments,
Moses, Isaiah, Daniel, - Matthew,
Paul and John to give the world a
‘universa] religion.
I am not ashamed of the gospel
‘ because: (c¢) It is superior to all other
religions. Forgiveness of sin is not
‘proposed in the other religions that
men have accepted. Our Christian
l civilization is proof positive of the su-
THE MARIETTA JOURNAL
periority of the gospel. Hospitals,
orphanages, doors of hope, a great
moral literature, personal character,
an experience of renewed life, all tes
tify to the glory and power of the
gospel. :
The Hindoo mother was taught to
throw her baby in the Ganges, the
holy river, to appease the wrath of
her God. Christianity points to the
great Christ who says, “Suffer the lit
tle children to come unto me and for
bid them not, for of such is the King
dom of God.” The Buddhist seeks
Nirvana, unconscious oblivion, but
the Christian seeks a “city which hath
foundations whose builder and mak
er is God.”
I am not ashamed of the gospel,
finally, because of its glorious des
tiny. The angel host that shouted
above the Bethlehem manger magni
fied and emphasized peace on earth
and good will to men and glory to
God in the highest. The glory of
the Lord is to fill the earth as the
waters fill the sea. All nations are
to: be taught. The good tidings are
to be proclaimed to every creature.
The program is—Jerusalem, Judea,
Samaria and the uttermost parts of
the earth.
Today we are living in grand and
awful times. The greatest statesmen,
philosophers and thinkers of the day
say that the teachings of Jesus
Christ are the only hope of this con
fused, distracted and broken world.
The forces of truth are being mar
shalled as never before. The church
is arising to the dignity and splendor
of her mission. The nations that have
long been in darkness are crying,
with the pathos of the man of Mace
donia, for the light of the glorious
gospel of the blessed Christ.
This gospel is Gods power. It is
God-power unto salvation. _lt is God’s
power unto the salvation of every one
that believeth,
This conquering, uplifting, dy
namic power must sweep on until the
kingdoms of this world shall become
the Kingdom of Christ.
THE JOURNAL IS $l.OO A YEAR.
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MARIETTA, GEORGIA.
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PAGE THREE
