Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1885-04-17
If tho window. 20 I kept

! attention out of the window, 20 kept
nv eyes fixed ION the minister's tace'
almost afraid tina. he would speak my
name. There was no need of fear; he
was only telling of the gentle, loving
! Saviour, who even when in the mos'
cruel mortal anguish, had said: rain
or. forgive them,' and rs l llstened 70
| the pathetic story of the Christ VINO had
been all love, l grew more and more
ashamed. The tears came into my
ewes. and tor the first time hat morn
mo I looked over to see if Ned was IN
his seat. He was not there, and, what
was more strange, Aunt Jane (his
mother) was absent, too. "There IS
something the natter" 1 thought; but
/ could not take my attention from the
white-haired minister, who was giving
Easter a new meaning to me. l scarce
" knew when the sermon had ended,
and it seemed sacredly appropriate to
me. when the choir had finished sing
ing the beautiful Easter anthem and l
saw the sun shining full on his bowed
head as though in benediction.
Icould not get home fast enough,
for | was so anxious to tell Ned how
sorry 1 was, and to beg his forgiveness:
AS soon as we reached home, l asked
mother if I might 90 over to Ned's, as
L wanted to ask him to forgive me 9
wrong l had dore him.
HAS my boy been hasty again?" she
said, r~eproachfully.
This was more than l could bear, and.
putting my arms around her neck, l
sobbed out the story of our quarrel.
'I1ere is your uncle, now," said
mother, after 1 had grown o quiet,
land he is running up the path. There
must be something the matter" In
another moment l heard that which
made my cheeks turn white, for Ned
had been taken very ill; injured in
ternally by a fall" the doctor said, and
there was but little hope of his recov-
cry. / sprang past Uncle John, and in
a moment was running with all my
might towards Ned's home.
How l got there, I could not tell. !
fairly flew over the ground. Aunt Jane
saw me coming and opened the door to
inquire for mother, but l could not
answer her, and only begged to see
Ned.
"Why child!' she said, in astonish-
ment. 'Don't be so excited! You can
see him, but only if you will be very
quiet" and she led the way, while l
followed on tiptoe. There on the little
| bed, which we had so often shared to-
gethcr, he was lying. The intense pain
had brought out great drops of sweat
on his smooth, white forehead, and his
dark chestnut hair was damp with
moisture. What agony l endured when
I looked at him, and SAW on his pale
cheek the print of my angry fist! He
| opened his eyes as l came in. and, as
they rested on me, he smiled and muir
INJURED: Lon, do you forgive me?"
Forgive him! [ would have given
anything to have been able to call back
those angry words and blows: but it
was too late for that, and l knelt down
by the bed and begged him to forgive
me.
Ned did not die, for a strong consti-
tuition and careful nursing conquered
his trouble, and he lived to play and
work many days after, but l never for
got the lesson that was taught me that
Easter Sunday, and I believe that
through it mo than in any other way
1 learned to curb my violent temper.
We are both men now, and my black
hair is plentiful]y streaked with gray,
but never have [ endured greater an
guish than when ] felt that, through my
~wickedness, one Of my best friends lay
at the point of death. Boys, beware of
giving way to your temper! The work
of a single, angry moment may mar a
score of lives forever.-CYara Da0is, in
Good Cheer.