Delaware gazette and state journal. (Wilmington, Del.) 1883-1902, 1895-11-28

and were forced to realize that there
was something better here and here
alter, because one man told them So
That is wonderful fancy about the
little tree, more beautiful than all the
rest, which was loved by the forest
and the pride OF all the other trees
When it grew tall enough great Man
came and sat under il, aud talked,
and cured those who were sick Of
body and sick of heart, and once its
shade hid Him as He wept and was
unhappy for many days and many
nights, forty in all. And then Il
rough crowd rushed in the wood, and,
to the horror of all the other trees, cut
down this one which was their prize
and JOY, broke off its beautiful
branches and shaped it strangely, and
on it suffered that One who had come
to save all the world. And this was
the story of the First Christmas Tree
as told by the poet.
STORY OF SMILES AND TEARS.
Then there was that story that first
brought the smiles, and then brought
the tears-but they were gentle, kindly
tears. And somehow, though the hero
of this story, "Bill, the LoBil Editor"
was drunkard, it seems to me that
what was predicted for him will hap.
pen to the man who has just gone from
u.s. You laughed when it was said
that -" Bill got more good out of likker
and likker got more good out Of Bill
than any man in seven counties. 7" But,
gradually the laugh became smile as
you read further on how Bill loved
children and children loved Bill, and
the man who was telling this story
said, "At the last great day when Bill
stands before the great Judge, that
Judge, whose mercy we can't compre-
bend, the little children will collect
around him, my dear dead one among
the rest, and they will hang on to him
like the ivy does on tree that has been
struck by lightning, the singing and
pleading little children. And their
little voices will ask for forgiveness.
And what will the Judge do? Why,
Just what you or | would. He will say
TO the recording angel, We'll noIle pros
this case and take the next on tho
docket " 1t mayn't be quite right--I
am quoting from memory, but | do be-
lieve that when Eugene Field stands
before that great Judge, the pleasure
that he has given the women and chill
dren, and the many times that he has
touched the hearts of great strong men,
will he counted, and his sins II never
heard he had any, will be wiped away
and the case against him will be nolle
pressed. God comfort those who bear
his name and all those who loved him.
As for us we ought to thank God for
giving to the world such a beautiful
nature and for letting us know of one
that brought joy to SO many whose
lives are barren and whose life has
little joy in it.
WHEN OUR TOLLS HAVE ENDED.
Sad? Not bit. Why should any of
us be sad when those we love have got
ten rid of all the worries of life and are
at rest? 1t is true that we may feel
bit lonely, but life is very short, and
who knows what comes later? Did you
ever try to think what sort of here
after you would like? You know your
self that you would feel uncomfortable
on golden streets devoting yourself to
musical instruments. / never could
believe that the descriptions of heaven
usually accepted were anything but
lovely metaphors. Just what it is
going to be | don't know. Sometimes
l think Swedenborg was right, and
that it will be an idealized earth: that
what we love here we will have there,
only all will be perfected. | often won
der about the mothers. To them their
dearest when they are tiny
babies. In the hereafter are they 10
meet them as heartsIck and weary men
and womenH You can't tell; neither
can |. We only know that it will all
be right, and here so much is wrong.
Bah ON THE BIBLE.
Sometimes | pick up the New Testa-
ment and wonder if we give enough
attention to some of the powerful sar-
casms in it. The story of the prodigal
son, for instance. 1t is repeated every
day in tine year. There is the Eon,
it is the daughter, who day
in and day out, year in and year out
works hard, sacrifices that which is
loved best and gives always of the good
which is earned by never ending work.
And there is the son, it may be the
daughter, who took the inherited sub
stance and squandered it and lived
gay and joysome life, and thought OF
nobody at home until he was tired and
worn and hungry and thirsty, and
wanted the good things when he APP
peared. Then he was greeted with love
and given the best robe and made
much of. And the son who had stayed
at home and done his duty got nothing,
and between you and me, l don't think
he ever does, and l don't think he ever
need expect it. All that one need ever
expect from doing one's duty is the
of ones own Conscience,
and the certainty that it will be taken
as no more than we ought TO dc. We
talk about sarcastic stories, and then
says something about the
of the New Testament. And
l smile. Personally, l believe that
the story of the prouigal son was
written to suggest to that unapprecia-
tive father that some thanks and some
token Of love were due to the one who
cared always for him, and regarded
luty before pleasure.
MAKING USE OF OUR TALENTS
Then that parable Of the talents.
What does it teach, but making the
very best of that which has been given
us, and concentrating all our ability
IN the talent which we know is oursP
Here is where | think parents are to
blame. Some child with no music in
Its soul, is forced to study it, and in
suffers the agonies, only
possible to child who has to play scales
when he wants to be drawing faces.
Another one is taught to daub and
sketch when music is running through |
its veins, and there is great desire
10 make songs for the whole world to
sing. Usually it is the parents who
,rr here. | remember being sent to
practice, Of being put upon my honor,
1t the mature age of 10, to remain on
The piano stool, and the consequence |
was that read Dickens, Thackeray |