The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1872-11-07

blackbirds, the sound of the branch
crashing down the rock, and the
crcaking and groanipg Of tho tree
And when | thought Of the poor
little birds crushed among the stone,
it was terrible
Iran away to my little room and
went to bed; but sleep would not
come, and fear kept fast hold OF
me.
About ten o'clock | heard my
uncle como in. He took his horse
to the stable, and then went to his
room. / tossed and turned upon
my bed. My soul seemed as black
as ink. Toward midnight, my grief
was so great that l felt must con
fess everything. 1 got up and went
down to my unclo's room. He was
asleep and u nightlamp burned up
on the table. ] kneeled down b.
his bed, and he woke up, and rails.
ing himself upon his elbow, looked
at me in surprise.
els that you, Fritzcl?' What
are you doing here, my ohild|
"UncIo Bernard" / cried, sob
bing, " "forgive me, | have sinncd
against heaven and against you"
"What have you done?" he said
gently.
al climbed n bccch.trco on the
Altenberg, to steal a birds nest, and
the branch broke"
"Brokcw O my child"
eyes, and God saved me by let
ting me catch another branch. But
now the old birds are calling to me
for their young ones; they will not
let me sleep"
My uncle was silent for awhile,
and wept bitterly.
"Unclc," l said again, II listen
ed to the shell this evening, but
everything is broken and confused.
1t can never come right again"
Then he took me in his arms and
said gravcly:
81 forgive you; but let this be II
lesson to you. Think Of the grief |
should have felt if you had been
brought home dead. Well, the poor
father and mother of the blackbirds
are as unhappy as | should have
been. Since you are sorry, | must
forgive you. Go to bed now; the
poor old birds will not disturb you
any more. May God forgive you
for Christ's sake. But after to-mor-
row you shall not keep goats any
longer; boy Of your age ought to
90 to school"
/ went up to my room and slept
quietly.
The next day Uncle Bernard took
me himself to our ola schooImastcr,
Toby Vcyvcrius. TO tell the truth,
it was very hard for the first few
days to be shut up in the house
from morning till night, without
daring to move. | lOngcd for the
open air, but nothing is gained in
this world without trouble, and, at
last, work became "A pleasant habit.
1t is even, all things considered, the
purcst and most substantial Of our
cnioymcnts. 1t is only by work
that we can become men and make
ourselves useful to others.
Uncle Bernard is very old, now.
He spends his time before the stove
in winter, and on the stone bench
in front of the house in summer.
start on horseback at Gaybreak, and
come back in the evening tired out.
1t is wearisomo life, especially
when the snow is deep; but that
does not prevent my being happy.
The shell is still in its place.
Sometimes | take it up and hear it
humming the echo Of my thoughts.
They are not always joyful. Some
times they are sad when one of my
poor patents is dying and cannot
help him. but they are never
threatening as they were the night
of the adventure with the birds
nest.
Ic only is happy who can listen
without fear to the voice of his CON
science. Whether he be rich or
poor, he enjoys the most perfect
that man can feel in this
world.