The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-09-22


 he always found something, either in the evil or by comparison with it, to be grateful for.
 The year before the corn crop had been failure, and while his neigh bors were bewailing their loss, Dea- con Ellis was congratulsting himself that "the turnips were good anyhow, an' the carrot patch fitten for king"
 Farmer Foster took up his lines; it was no easy matter to condole with his neighbor Ellis.
 "Well, deacon," he said, "we druv by to tell you as we felt pow'ful cut up bout that fine cow O yours as broke her leg yistiddy, but seems you don't need no help to bear your bad luck"
 Deacon Ellis pulled cedar splinter from the fence rail before he answered.
 "Well," he said, slowly, "my ole 'oman set sight O store by that COW, am my little gal cried for milk last night, to be sure. We'll miss old Spot, thar ain't no denyin' O that. But we've got sight O nice beef off n her, an that's somethin' to be thankful for"
 "An' the heifer's down sure enough?"
 Clearly, Mrs. Foster didn't find much cause for thanksgiving.
 "One's down." said the deacon, "but t'other ones lively as a cricket. We'll have another COW in no time, and that's worth thanking the Lord for"
 "See here, deacon;" Mrs. Foster would hear of no further thanksgiving in the midst of such dire misfortune. She understood exactly what the loss of the COW meant to the invalid wife and sickly daughter of the man who was straining every point in order to pay off the mortgage upon the few acres he called his farm. "See here, deacon," she said, "you send David over to my house every evenin' an get quart O milk for that little gal O yours. 'Tain't no manner O Count to us, an David can cut across lots an come for it in no time."
 The deacon thanked her and said he would, and in his heart he thanked the Lord for the unexpected good, and that night he thanked Him aloud, upon his knees, for the gift of neigh bors and friends. And the next morning at breakfast, when blessing had been asked upon the humble meal and Mrs. Ellis set mug of Farmer Fosters nice, new milk be- fore the sick child, who clapped her little hands joyfully at sight of it, the deacon bowed his gray head again, and thanked the Master of mercies a second time "For all His many bless ings."
 The next Sunday he was in his &C., customed place at the village church, and when he knelt to pray, few would have suspected as he poured forth his prayer ot praise and thanksgiving, that his only COW had broken her legs in the ditch and his best heifer had died with the pink-eye only the week before, and that his last and only hope of a COW had been stricken down with the same disease. Streams of mercy never ceasing Call for songs of loudest praise" Higher and fuller the sweet song rose, as if the singers life had been one continual round of peace, and his pathway one of roses and perpetual summer. The good man shut his eyes to visible things, and closed his heart to worldly cares; and neither the dead heifer nor the unfortunate COW could shake the foundation of thankfulness in his heart.
 Spring ripened into summer, the corn in the deacon's field looked healthy. But the heat,-alas the sun creeping across the waving bill lows found rust among the ripening heads. And when it was cut and waiting the deacon's turn for the thresher, the rain set in and the grain sprouted.
 The loss of his wheat was blow to the embarrassed farmer, and he re- ceived but little sympathy from his neighbors who had urged him to fol- low their example, and shock and cap his wheat on the Sabbath as the only possible means of saving it. But with the consistency for which he was noted, he refused to desecrate the Lords day, but chose rather to keep that holy, and trust the result to Him Who controls the weather.
 "Here I'll raise mine Ebenezer.",
 Farmer Foster riding down the road heard the deacon's voice, and fol- lowing the sound found the old man in the ruined field singing among the stubble. Not a break in the grand old hymn to tell of doubt, or discour- agement, or distrust. In the midst of wreck and ruin the altar had been erected and reconsecrated to Him Who sends both sun to soften and rain to destroy.
 dts bad, mighty bad, a-comin' on me just now there ain't no denyin' O that" he told neighbor Foster. "But the cornfeld's left, an' that's a good 1aol ko In Al 4.