Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1886-03-11
The Fathers Midnight Musings.

We know of no writer who draws more
eloquent lessons from the common intercourse
OF every day life and from intimate home rela-
tionships than the humorist. Robert Burdette.
They seem, as they doubtless are, simple re-
citals Of heart experiences which go straight
to other hearts. What could he more vivilly
realistic and tender.y true than the following
unpretentlous little prose-poem:
How quiet the house Is at midnight The
people who talk AMI laugh and sing in 1t every
day are asleep and the people who fell asleep
In Ii long ago come back into IL. Every house
has these two classes OF tenants. Do We love
best those with whom we can laugh and talk
and sing, or the dear silent ones who come so
noiselessly to our side and whisper TO us in
faint, sweet, far-away whispers that have no
sound, SO that we only hear their very still
nessl
4 am not tired, but my pen is wea-y. It
falls FROM my fingers and raise my head. /
start TO leave the table and my eyes iall upon q
little book lying en- the floor. 1t Is a little
First Reader" He left It Their. this alter
noon. remember just how 1 was impatient
because he could not real the simple little
lesson-such an easy lesson-and told him 1t
was waste OF my time trying to teach him
and pushed him away from me. remember
low. | see the flush come into the little tired
ia,e, the brave cheerful look in his eyes-his
mothers brave, patient misunderstanding
with his disappointment and pam. see him
lie down on he floor and the little face bent
+,
easy lesson, any BABY might read 1t. Then
after struggle one, II has 10 lie given up,
and the baiiied little soldier, with one more
appealing 10 k toward me Tor rc-enfo. cements,
signs and goes Away from the lesson he can
not read 10 the play that comforts him. And
there lies the little look just rs c left IT, All,
me. could kneel down and kiss it now, as
thouyh II were awe and LOVING.
Why, what was my time worth 10 me to-day
What was there in the book wanted to read
one-half so precious TO me as one cooling word
IRON the prattling lips that qulyered when
turned away. hate the book | read / will
never look at IL again. Were IL the last book
IN the world think would bum II. All It's
gracious words are lies. ! say TO YOU, though
all men praise the Look, and, though an hour
ago thought 1t excellent, say to you that
there Is poison in its hateful pages. Why,
what can 1 learn from books that baby lips can
not teach ne. Do you know want 10 20 TO
his room and listen; the house is SO still; may
be he is not breathing. Why, IL between my
book and my boy choose my book why should
not God leave me with my books My hateful
| books.
But was not harsh. was only little
impatient Because, you see, ms lesson was
| so easy, 80 simple. All me, there were two o.
| two easy, simple lessons. Mine was such a
| very simple, easy, pleasant, loving one 10
learn. just line, just IA little throb OF
| patience, OF gentleness OF love that would
| have made my own heart glow and laugh and
| sing. The letters were SO large aud PLAN, the
| words SO easy and the sentence so short. And
J |; Oh, pity me, | missed Every word. | aid
| not read one line Alright. See, here is my copy
| now, all blurred and bllstered with tears and
heartache, all marred and msspelled and
| blotted. | am ashamed 10 how II TO the
Master. And yet | know lie VIII be Iatient
with me; know how loving and gentle lie
will be- Why, how patiently and lovingly all
| these years lie has been teaching me this
| simple lesson | failed upon to-day. But when
| my iittle pupil stumbled on a single words
| my time then, so much more precious than
| sne Masters that cannot teach the little les
son more than oncei All, frieni, we do waste
| time when we plat scOurges for ourselves
these hurTylng days, these busy, anxious,
| shrewd, ambitious times of ours are wasted
when the; take our hearts away from patient
gentleness. an give us lame for love and gold
| Tor kisses. some day, then. when our hungry
| souls will eek for bread our selfish god viii
| give Us stone. Life Is not ueep profound
perplexing problem. Ii is a simple, easy les
| con, such as an, child may read GU can not
| find its solution in the Donderous tones oil the
old fathers, the philosophers, the Investigators,
| the theorists. IL is not on your book shelves
| But in the warmest corner of the most inlet
| tered heart 1t gows in letters that the blindest
may read; sweet, plain, simple easy, loving
! lesson. And when you have learned IL, broth.
or OF mine, the world will be better and
| Happier.