Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1891-04-30
NEVER FAILETH.'

ucCh VI CTOWueu lcTTyDOut, as IL lOrgcu
its heavy way through the water, max
ing swells which rocked the smaller boats
near by and washed high up on the piles
at the dock.
The young woman did not notice the
shipping, the tall buildings. the noisy
landing or the pushing crowd behind.
She was thinking; and as the boat Jared
against the buffers she said in a low
tone to herself, "LOre is the greatest
thing in the world"
No one heard or needed her but one
pale-faced little woman in n black shawl,
who stood crowded almost against her.
She heard the words, and look of won
der came into her hungry eyes. BIT the
boat was locked, and the crowd pushed
them on, and each went her separate
way.
The pale-faced little woman in the
black shawl hurried from place to place,
but all the time she was turning over in
her mind the words, Love is the great
est thing in the world-in all the
world"
Love of what-lovc from whom2 II
made no difference. Love was not for
her. Youth was gone, hope was gone
there was nothing for her but work.
Her husband lived 10 wurk, auu ueslreu
that she should live to work; and love,
she could not remember TO have heard
the word for years-no. nor thought it.
The little children she used to think
some day might be hers had never come,
and her husband said it was good
thing, for children took time and money,
and she hal waited and grieved and
worked in silence, until now she never
thought oft, except to think that it was
better so.
Was love the greatest thing in the
world! Then she must miss the greatest
thing as she had missed all lesser things.
But the hungry eyes looked out of
hungry heart, and the words said them
selves over and over, no. only that dav.
but through all the next weeks in trip
which she and her husband made to the
West.
They had bought some land in Kansas,
with IA little oNe-roomed house ON it,
and there the work of living began
again with ten-iold push. There was
not house in sight. and the sun seemed
to rise SO early and set so late-those
long. long days, when she worked till
the very grave would have seemed
pleasant place to rest in.
But all through that summer, as she
looked back on it. she could see how the
weight that bore her down grew lighter.
She seldom saw any one but her hus-
band. They had no books, and those
few words, "Love is the greatest thing
in the world" began to fill for her the
place of books and friends. When the
sunlight was bright, and there were
fleecy little clouds in the blue sky, and
the prairie was blazing with flowers. and
the one cottonwood tree rustled its leaves
in the light breeze, there came new
meaning into those words.
Finally, though she could not have
told when or how, she came to feel the
love of God very close to her. and she
knew that in some way God must mean
that she should give out little love to
other things-love the cattle, and the
horses, and the pigs, and the chickens;
for she was simple little woman. She
loved them all the work seemed easier
and the living things throve.
"She's got wonderful knack," said
her husband to passing neighbor.
But as the capacity grew tho hunger
grew, and then one day there seemed to
/ her to come very gift from God.
A little sobbing boy came dragging up
to the open door-a little boy with dark
eyes, with brown hair just long enough
to show tendency to curl, with dirty
hands and dirty free. and shoes cut with
stones. Such little boy! About eight
years old, she thought.
Il nr;oH and .oaohaH mn h.c hap1c IN
her.
With hasty look at the milk she was
skimming to churn. she picked him up
in her arms and held him close. She
felt his hot little face against hers, felt
the little arm around her neck, and the
little heaving chest and beating heart
against her own she held him tight and
loved him, and the tears came into her
eyes.
But that could only last a minute;
there was the milk. Then she gave him
water with which to wash his hands and
face outside the door, and after that she
gave HIM a slice OF bread and tin cup
of milk. He sat there rs il I've owned the
house. his tears dried, and his quick eyes
glancing around.
When his mouth was empty enough so
that he could talk. he told his story.
my name is Charlie" he said. 81
was in the prairie schooner. and the
woman and the man got very mad at me
and put me off and shook the whip at me,
and ran across the prairie till ] saw this
house. and now I'm going to stay here"
"Were the man aud woman your ia
ther and motheri"
''Oh no; my mother is in coffin in
the ground. She caught fever, and
this man and woman brought me along.
Oh, I'm glad they're gone. I'D rather stay
with you"
She churned fast and thought faster.
Her husband would not let him stay; he
didn't like boys, and the boy would cat
half more. Then there were the cloth IS.
No; he would have to go
Her heart throbbed, had IL er
throbbed like that before2
81 want to do that" said Charlie, ty-
ing the churudasher enviously.
A brave thought; perhaps he could
work She looked hastily down tho
hill. There was her hush and Lat COM
Ing around the stack.
''Here, quickln she said, and rs the
Al. n ko hor