Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1894-01-25

NOW AGIlnSE sts'kd bto1hSi A"A 49,
one else can say too much In eulogy OF
the needle. 1t has made more useful
than the sword. Thank God
for the needlework, from the time when
the Lord Almighty from the heavens
ordered in regard to the embroidered
door of the ancient tabernacle. Thou
shalt make a hanging for the door OF
the tent of blue and purple and scarlet
and fine twined linen wrought with
needlework,' down to the womanly
hands which this winter in this tabor
nacle are presenting for benevolent pur-
poses their needlework. But there was
nothing except vanity and worldliness
and social splash in what Sisera's moth
or said about the peedlework she ex-
pecte6 her son would bring home from
the battle. And / am not surprised to
find that Sisera fought on the wrong
side When his mother at the window
Of my text in hat awful exigency had
her chief thought on dry goods achieve
ment and social display. God only
knows how many homes have made
shipwreck on the wardrobe. And that
mother who sits at the window watch
ing for vain-glorious triumph of millt-
merry and fine colors md domestic pa
geantry will after awhile hear as bad
news from her children out in the bat
tie Of life as Sisera's mother heard from
the struggle ut Esdraelon.
But if you still press the question.
Where's mother!" l will tell you
where she is not, though once she was
there. Some of you started with her
likeness in your face and her principles
in your soul But you have cast her
out. That was an awful thing for you
to do, but you have done it. That hard,
grinding, dissipated look you W got
from her. If you had seen any n
strike her, you would have struck him
down without much care whether the
\ blow was just sufficient or fatal; but
my hoy, you have struck her down.
struck her innocence from your face
and struck her principles from your
soul. You struck her down! h tent
pin that Jael drove three times into the
skull of SiSera was not so cruel as the
stab you have made more than three
times through your mothers heart. But
she is waiting yet, for mothers are
slow to give up their ~boys-waihng at
some window, it may be n window on
earth or at some window in heaven.
All others may cast you off. Your wife
may seek divorce and have no more
patience with you. Your father may
disinherit you and say, Let him never
again darken the door of our house"
But there are two persons who do not
give you up-God and mother.
How many disappointed mothers
waiting at the window! Perhaps the
panes of the window are not great
glass plate. bevel edged and covered
over by exquisite la~mbrequin, but the
window is made of small panes, L
would say about six or eight of them,
in summer wreathed with trailing vine
and in winter pictured by the Raphaels
of the forest, a real country window.
The mother sits there knitting, or busy
with her needle or homely repairs,
when she looks up and sees coming
across the bridge of the meadow brook
a stranger. who dismounts in front of
the window. He lifts and drops the
heavy knocker of the farmhouse door.
Come in" is the response. He gives
his name and says. II have come on a
sad Grand There is nothing the
matter with my son in the city, is
therey' she asks. Yes he says.
''Your son got into an unfortunate en-
counter with a young man In a liquor
saloon last night and Is badly hurt.
4 Lit ldtl 10 III tdhupL Stb We'll l. Hdt
to tell you all. / am sorry to say, he is
dead" 'Deadr' she cries as she totters
back. "Oh. my son. my son. my son!
Would God / had died for thee." That
Is the ending of all her cares and anx-
ieties and good counsels for that boy.
That is her pay for her self sacrifice in
his behalf. That is the bad news from
! the battle. So the tidings Of derelict or
Christian sons travel to the windows Of
earth or the windows of heaven at
which mothers sit
But says some one. "are you not
mistaken about my glorified mother
hearing of my evildoiigs since she
went awayT'.Says some n else, Are
you not mistaken about my glorified
mother hearing of my self sacrifice and
moral bravery and struggle to do
right?" No! Heaven and earth are in
constant communication.
There is one thought that is almost
too tender for utterance. / almost fear
to start lest l have not enough con-
troll OF my emotion To conclude ii. As
when we were children we so often
came in from play or from a hurt or
from some childish injustice practiced
upon us. and as soon as. the door was
opened we cried. Where's mothery'
and she said, Here / am" and we
buried our weeping faces in her lap. so
after awhile, when we get through with
the pleasures and hurts of this life. we
win, by the %pardoning mercy of Christ,
enter the heavenly home, and among
the first questions. not the first. but
among the first will be the old question
that VIC used to ask. the question that
is being asked in thousands of places
at this very moment-the question,
where's motherg!' And 1t viii not
take long for us to find her or for her
to find us, for she will have been watch
ing at the window for our coming, and
with the other children of our house
hold Of earth we will again gather
round her. and she will say We'll.
how did you get drought tie battle of
life? / have often heard from others
about you. but now I want to hear it
from your W souls. Tel me all about
1t, my children And then we will tell
her Of all our earthly experiences. the
holidays. the marriages. the birth
hours, the burials, the heartbreaks, the
losses. the gains. the victories, the de-
feats, and she will say: "Never mind. ii
is all over now. I see each one Of you
hoe n croxyp which was oiyop y0iI NJ