Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1895-05-20

saying and believing that 1 ash little Of
men In general l try to do much for
them and to expect nothing in return. 7
find decided advantage in these terms.
On these terms I defy them to disap-
point me. But, my hearers, the day
cometh when your work which perhaps
no one has noticed or rewarded or hon.
ored, will rise to heavenly recognition.
While L have been telling you that the
hand was under the wing of the cheru-
BIN want you to realize that the wing
was over the hand. Perhaps reward
may not come to you right away. Wash
lngton lost more battles than he won,
but he triumphed at the last. Walter
Scott, in boyhood, was called ''the
Greek blockhead," but what height Of
renown did he not afterward tread?
Rest For the ToiIing.
And promise you victory farther on
and higher up, if not in this world,
then in the next. Oh, the heavenly day
when your lifted hand shall be gloved
with what honors, its fngar enringed
with what jewels, its wrist clasped with
what splendors Come up and take it,
you Christian woman, who served at the
washtub! Come up and take it, you
Christian shoemaker, who pounded the
shoe last! Come up and take it, you
professional nurse, whose compensation
never fully paid for broken nights and
the whims and struggles of delirious
sickrOOms Come up and take it, you
fremen, besWeated, far down amid the
greasy machinery of ocean steamers,
and We conductors and engineers On rail
roads, that knew no Sunday, and whose
ringing bells and loud whistle never
warned off your own anXieties!
Come up and take it, you mothers,
who rocked and lullabied the family
brood until they took wing for other
nests and never appreciated what you
had done and suffered for them. Your
hand was well favored when you were
young, and it was beautiful hand, so
we'll rounded, so graceful that many adj
mired and eulogized it, but hard work
calloused it and twisted it, and self
sacrificing toll for others paled it, and
many household griefs thinned it, and
the ring which went on only with q
push at the marriage altar now is too
large and falls off, and again and again
you have lost it. Poor hand Weary
handl Wornout hand But God will
reconstruct it, reanimate it, readorn it,
and all heaven will know tho story of
that hand. What fallen ones it lifted
upl What tears it wiped away! What
wounds it bandagedi What lighthouses
it kindledl What storm tossed ships it
brought into the pearl beached harbor
Oh, [ am SO glad that in the vision of
my text Ezekiel saw the wing above the
hand. Roll on that everlasting rest for
all the toiling and misunderstood and
suffering and weary children Of God,
and know right well that to join your
hand, at last emancipated from the
struggle, will be the soft hand, the gen.
tie hand, the triumphant hand, of him
who wipeth away all tears from all
faces. That will be the palace of the
king of which the poet sangin some
what Scotch dialect:
It's bonnie, bonnie warl that we're Iivin in
the moo,
An sunny is the Ian we aften traivel thro',
But in vain we look for something to which
DOR hearts cling,
For its beauty is naething to the palace o
the King.
We see COR friens await us over yonder at his
gate.
Then let us a be ready, for, We ken. it's gettin
late.
Let cor lamps be BRIGHTLY burnin; let's raise
COR voice and sing.
Soon Wen meet, to part nae mair, j. the palace
of the King.