Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1893-02-27

beak down III the mud show that the
mother is dead, and the young ones come
out and cannot understand why the
mother does not scratch for them some
thing to eat, and they walk over her
wings and call with their tiny voices,
but there is no answering cluck- She
took the storm for others and persisted.
Poor thingi Self sacrificing even unto
death!
And does it not make you think of him
who endured all for us? So the wings
under which we come for spiritual safety
are blood spattered wings, are night shat
tered wings, are tempest torn wings.
In the Isle of Wight L saw the grave of
Princess Elizabeth, who died while a
prisoner at Carisbrook castle, her finger
on an open Bible and pointing to the
words, ''Come unto me all we that labor
and are heavy laden, and I will give you
rest" Oh, come under the wings!
But now the summer day is almost
passed, and the shadows of the house
and barn and wagon shed have length
ened. The farmer, with scythe or hoe
on shoulder, is returning from the fields.
The oxen are unyoked. The horses are
crunching the oats at the full bin. The
air is bewitched of honeysuckle and wild
brier. The milkman, pail in hand, is
approaching the barnyard. The fowls,
keeping early hours, are collecting their
young, "Cluckt' ''Cluckr' "Cluckr' and
soon all the eyes of that feathered nursery
are closed.
The bachelors of the winged tribe have
assembled to their perch, but the hens, in
a motherhood divinely appointed, take
all the risk of slumber on the ground,
and all night long the wings will stay
outspread, and the little ones will not
utter a sound Thus at shutdown, low
ingly, safely, completely, the hen broods
her young. So, if we are the Lords, the
evening of our life will come. The heats
of the day will have passed. There will
be shadows, and we cannot see as far.
The work of life will be about ended.
The hawks of temptation that lowered
in the sky will have gone to the woods
and folded their wings Sweet silences
will come down. The air will be redo
lent with the breath of whole arbors Of
promises sweeter than jasmine or even
ing primrose. The air may be a little
chill, but Christ will call us, and we will
know the voice and heed the call, and we
will come under the wings for the night
the strong wings, the soft wings, the
warm wings-and without fear and in
full sense of safety, and then we will
rest from shutdown to sunrise, las hen
gathereth her chickens under her wing"
Dear me, how many souls the Lord hath
thus brooded!
Mothers, after watching over sick era
dies and then watching afterward over
hayward sons and daughters, at last
themselves taken care of by motherly
God. Business men, after a lifetime
struggling with the uncertainties of
money markets, and the change of tariffs,
and the underselling of men who be-
cause of their dishonesties can afford to
undersell, and years of disappointment
and struggle, at last under wings where
nothing can perturb them any more than
bird of prey which is 10 miles off dis
turbs chick at midnight brooded in
barnyard.
TRUSTING IN DIVINE SHELTER.
My text has its strongest application
for people who We're born in the country,
wherever you may now live, and that is
the majority of you. You cannot hear
my text without having all the rustic
scenes of the old farmhouse come back
to you. Good old days they were. You
knew nothing much of the world, for
you had not seen the world.
By law of association you cannot recall
the brooding hen and her chickens Wi IL
out seeing also the barn, and the hay
NOW, and the wagon shed, and the
house, and the room where you played,
and the fireside with the big backlog
before which you sat, and the ncighbOrs,
and the burial, and the wedding, and
the deep snowbanlls, and hear the viii
lage bell that called you to worship, and
seeing the horses which, after pulling
you to church, stood around the old clap
boarded meeting house, and those who
sat at either end Of the church pew, and
indeed all the scenes of the first Il years,
and you think Of what you were then
and of what you are now, and al these
thoughts are aroused by the sight of the
old hencoOp.
Some of you had better go back and
start again In thought return to that
place and hear the cluclz and see the
outspread feathers and come under the
wing and make the Lord your portion
and shelter and warmth, preparing for
everything that may come, and so avoid
being classed among those described by
the closing words of my text, las hen
gathereth her chickens under her wing,
and We would not" All. that throws
the responsibility upon us! I'VE would
not Alas, for the would nots!' IF
the wandering broods of the farm heed
not their mothers call and risk the
hawk and dare the freshet and expose
themselves to the frost and storm, sure
ly their calalnities are not their moth
er's fault. ''Ye would NOT God would,
but how many would not!
When good man asked Il young wom-
an who had abandoned her home and who