Bradford opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1874-1881, 1875-07-31
jim Barwick knew these grand.

jim Barwick knew these grand
nephews and nieces of his masters
of old, and had q wholesome dread
Of their getting at his choicest flow
ers-nOt so much because he feared
their picking them, but because they
begged them from him; and when
they all got round him there was nc
escaping.
And Jim was in for it this morn.
ing. The troop had surrounded him,
and that when he was in q most un.
lucky place, as he thought, but a
most lucky one in their idea, and
begged SO much for only one of his
moss,roses that he was obliged to
consider what was to he done.
A thought of escape seemed sud
denly to flash across the gardeners
mind.
~ tell yau what, young ladies
and gentlemen" said jim; "this
moss-rose is a special favorite of
the Doctors, and l can't cut it about
there isn't a day but that he looks
at it when it is in bloom; but III
cnt one flower, if there's any one Of
you that will take it to the Doctor.
and ask him why he calls this the
preaching rose.'
At first there were half-a-dOzen
hands put up for the flower; but
when the young ones saw that Jim
looked somewhat serious, they all
put their hands behind their backs,
and one only still held hers up for
the flower.
"You'll keep your word, | know,
Miss Florence" said the gardener,
''if Igive you the flower;" and with
one cut he severed the beautiful
blossom from its parent stem.
Though DR.. Jacobs was Florence's
granduncle, that would have been
altogether too long a word for her
or her brothers and sisters to use
so they called him uncle-to uncle
accordingly did Florence Hepworth
90.
The little girl stole Oh tip-toe past
Betty's room, for if that worthy
had seen her with the flower, she
would have been sure to have Civ
Ell her bit of her mind; but this
danger was safely passed, and Flor
ence found herself at the Doctors
door.
"Come in, little maid," said a
voice from within; "always well
come, little maid-but what have
you in your hand, little woman I
hope you have not been cutting
the roses near the house."
"No, uncle" answered Florence;
"but the gardener gave me this one,
if l promised to ask you why it is
called 'the preaching rose.'"
"Well, my child, Pm glad Jim
gave it to you, and that you did not
cut it; and l am pleased he sent
you to me to ask this question, for
l am always glad to do you little
folk good, and may tie rose do you
as much good as it has done me-"
"You must know that that rose
tree is the great -grandchild of y
rose which grew almost in the same
place in my fathers time. Roses
have fathers and greatgrandfathers
too, and this ones great-grandfa-
ther was fine tree.
"One summer morning, just like
this, l was walking with my dear
father in the garden, and he stop
ped at that tree, and said to me,
Joseph, you saw me in the pulpit
on Sunday, and said, when the SER
mon was oyer, "What pity it is
that every one is not preacher to
be telling the people about God"
Some day you will be a preacher
yourself. God has multitude of
preachers abroad in the world,
whose voices people do not hear be-
cause they do not care for what is
spiritual or belonging to the soul.
Now look at this rose-bush. If the
lilies of the field, and even the little
grass blades, were to teach people
Gods great truths, how much more
such beautiful flowers as this /!
"'Now let us see something of
what may be learned even from this
one tree
"Then my good father cut a beau
tiful flower, and putting it into
little basket, with some tea and SUI
gar, we went off to see a dying girl
in the neighbOrnood. The girl
thanked him kindly for the tea and
sugar, but her eyes sparkled when
she saw the rose. She was fond of