The Van Buren press., 1895-03-23

stranger was waiting until he could
communicate with his CONSUL
It was beginning to grow cooler.
After long rest in his favorite resort
Ibrahim felt refreshed and strolled
cheerfully back, receiving greetings
from the neighbors as he went. ITO
tend the sick and stranger is to do the
will Of Allah" said they, npprovingly;
and their praises were grateful to his
ears.
There was little else to reward him.
His patient was not one who had learned
much from life In the lessons OF unself-
ishness and self-controi. But even on
him II began gradually to dawn that
this oriental patience and courtesy was
something surprising and beyond any
thing that he had right to expect.
"1brahim," he asked few days
later, when you pray, what do you
say?"
The old man flushed. II speak with
Allah, howadji," he answered with
simple dignity.
like to talk about your faith to un-
believers; but I'm not meaning to be
impertinent. really would like to
know very much"
The old man bowed his head.
~ say many things, howadji, and diff
ferent things at different hours. re-
cite the names of Allah, and always
repeat M F0titd." And In low voice
he recited:
| tR,,f
Gracious. Praise to Allah, tho Lord Of oil
creatures, the Meroiful and Gracious the
Prince Of tho Day Of JudgmentI We serve
thee and we pray to thee for help Lead US In
the right way Of those to whom thou hast
shown mercy, upon whom no wrath rcsteth,
and who go not astray. Amen.'
"H'ml" said his henrer, as the sonor-
Gus Arabic fell upon his ears. snow If
it was in New England, we would call
that pretty good sort Of prayer" :"
And he became thoughtful.
December came in, cool and refresh
ing The sick man began to get about
again. lie was much gentler In man.
ner, and showed symptoms Of gratitude.
He had not been able to convince him
self of the soundness of his own views
of Ibrahim's mercenary motives. They
talked much together.
Tomorrow is q great feast In my
country" he remarked, as they sat and
summed themselves in front of the dom
palms.
Ibrahim nodded. Eyes, remember
1t Is the birth Of Tssa. We also honor
him as prophet, but not as you do.
But often have heard Of him, and
sometimes the travelling people have
told me stories from your book. There
was one tale," he added, wistfully,
"that would like to hear again. We
have none like it. Il was Of a son who
went away from his father, far off into
strange country, but he came back.
The other did not speak for mo-
ment. ftr
"The prodigal son." he said, at last.
.'Yes, know it. have Bible in my
bag; I'll read 1t to you, II you like"
"Thanks, howadji," answered Ibra-
him, gratefully. "Yes, gladly would
hear tho tale again"
The young man fetched a volume out
of the hut, and sat down under the
shade of the palm tree. "A certain
man had two sons" he began, and he
read it through to the end. He looked
rather strange when he finished.
"What on earth made you ask for that
Just now?" he said.
"Howadji," answered the old man,
simply, II had o son. It was long ago.
He left me one day, and heard Of him
no more. The will Of Allah be DONE"
"And you mean to say that you re.
member him still-that you miss him
after all these years2"
"Yes, truly, howadji," said the other,
In surprise. "a father does not forget
his son."
"But suppose he was no credit to his
father; suppose he had been wild and
troublesome. Wouldn't he have worn
out your patience after awhile? You
might have been glad to lose track OF
him, and 1t would have been an un-
pleasant surprise to get him back"
"No," answered the other, patiently;
''he would still be my son. Always my
heart would roam the earth seeking
him; but the dead come not back"
"They do sometimes" muttered the
| yOuhS AA~AAs
He rose and walked up and down.
"See here, Ibrahim, I've been pretty
near death lately. [ could easily pre-
tend that I'd passed over the line. ]
feel rather like O ghost as It Is. Now
what's the use Of ghost coming back
to vcx the people who thought him
safely dead? He'd much better 20
back and keep himself out Of sight
somewhere in the African forest.
There's plenty Of room for ghosts In
there; and it isn't such bad place."
"My son, my son." and Ibrahim rose
and leaned upon his staff. His long,
white beard swept his brown breast,
his white hair waved beneath his green
turban. He was venerable and i'm.
posing figure. my son, life lies be-
fore you. You have gone but little
way, and, If it was not we'll, yet
there is time to make 1t right Hear
the words of On old man. Go back tc
your home, and to those who wait and
look for you. Do good, not evil. And
may Allah grant you find the way Of
peace"
The boy was silent minute, and the
sightless eyes could not see certain
mistiness in the other pair. IN dc
It, old man." he said, rather cholkily.
"I'll go back and have another try
at It,"
Ibrahim was an old man then, he
Is very old one now. He is regarded
with certain reverence by the native
population. He still wanders to the
old graveyard, with feeble steps, and