The Potter journal and news item. [volume] (Coudersport, Pa.) 1872-1874, 1873-01-03

it hard work to stand still. and made it
almost impossible for me to tell what
changes it needed Turning him round
To see the back of it, did not notice
that he caught up the scissors from a
chair. When | took a front view again
| saw that he had taken the oily wiping
cloth that lay on the sewing machine
and haditpreSsed tight against the breast
of his dress. trying to cut it. In utter
veXation and diSmay roughly snatched
the rag and scissors from his hand-just
as you caught the book and pencil from
Willie this morning-only giving them
an additional unnecessary twist from
loss of temper. \ sharp cry of pain from
my baby boy, and the stream of blood
that poured from his little hand. sobered
me instantly. In some way his finger
had been between the blades. and my
wrench OF the scissors had brought them
together, 50 that the tender little finger
was cut through to the bone on both
sides. | lost no time though my heart
bled with it. The Jagged wound WAS
gaping widely apart on each side. and
no doctor within two hours of us. l
summoned all my senses to my aid, and
succeeded in quickly dressing and bind
ing it up, and then sat down, with Ar
thur on my lap, TO find ways of beguil-
ing him from the sense of his pain.
Ny heart was numb with the excess
of suppressed emotion. | could see the
cruel cut plainly as if it were open be-
fore me and | knew it would leave last
ing scar. | felt as though. in fearful
dream. that |. his mother. had mutilated
hisprecious dimpled hand inamOmentGf
causelesS anger with baby, and that it
would remain mute witness against me
as long as he lived.
Kate. no one but God can ever know
what | felt as l sat smiling to the dar-
ling on my knee. l told him stories
all Of his favOriteS. | sang and laughed,
even while | kissed the little swathed
finger. But his lips quivered with pain
and deep sobS heayed his breast long af-
ter he lay sleeping on my arm. Words
cannet tell the agony of grief and shame
that overwhelmed Inc as | knelt beside
the crib when | laid him down. He
slept the sound sleep Of exhaustion. and
yielded to the tempest Of remorSe that
utterly Frustrated me. 1t swept away
every defence, every subCerfuge and pal
liation. and showed me the hideousness
Of the sin.
Had the scissors killed myboy | should
have been no more guilty or responsible.
1t was the act OF a passing moment
gone like a flash; but it was an ungov-
erned, blind temper. and the resnlt would
be lifelong. This thought was absolute
ly msupportable. In unavailing peni-
tence | kissed the poor MANNED hand of
the little unconscious sleeper. literally
hathing il with my tears.
After a time the storm spent itself,
and | took up the days duties again.
The little dress | gave away. never
Sawit afterward-Ic could not have borne
the sight For weeks and months l
watched the wounds as they healed. and
the deep red Of the scar slowly faded
At last it came TO he white and distinct.
like a thread tight-drawn across both
sides of the finger | saw it wheneverI
saw the baby-at the table, at his play,
when he folded h.S chubby hands in
prayer at my knee. that white. still wit
ness of my sin was always before me. 1t
seemed branded on my heart. At times,
when my punishment was greater than
| could bear. implored God in His
mercy TO permit it to fade out as the
child grew in stature.
Ny prayer was answered, but not in
the way l asked; the scar was not hid
den, but changed to one Of the truest
blessings of my life, by Him who maketh
even the wrath of man to praise him.
1t has led me, each moment of my life
with my children since then, to set a
watch at the door of my heart and lips,
and to pray constantly that each days
record may be such as l shall wish to
meet before the great white throne.
- -Wdtcbnl0n and Recorder.
DEEDS are FRUTTs-woRDs are but LEAVES,