The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1902-04-03
and the best thing that will ever hap
pen to them will be their grave.

ana the peAt th1ng that Will ever hap
pen to them will be their grave.
What people want is warmth. Many
years ago a man was floating down on
the ice of the Merrimac, and great et-
forts were made to rescue him. Twice
he got hold of a plank thrown to him
and twice he slipped away from it, be-
cause that end of the plank was COW
cred with ice, and he cried out: "For
Gods sake, give me the wooden end
of the plank this time!" and, this
done, he was hauled to shore. The
trouble is that in our efforts to save
the soul there is too much coldness
and icy formality, and so the imper-
lied one slips off and floats down. Give
it the other end of the plank; warmth
of sympathy, warmth of kindly asso-
citation, warmth of genial surround
ings. The world declines to give IL
and in many cases has no power to
give it, and here is where Christ comes
in, and as on cold day, the rain beat
ing and the atmosphere full of sleet,
the hen clucks her chickens under her
wings and the warmth of her own
breast puts warmth into the wet
feathers and the chilled feet of the in
FAINT group of the barnyard, SO Christ
says to those sick and frosted and dis
gusted and frozen of the worlds:
Come in out of the March winds of
the worlds criticism, come in out of
the sleet of the worlds assault, come
in out of world that does not under
stand you and does not want to UNDER
stand you. l will comfort and I will
soothe, and will be your warmth 'as
a hen gathereth her chickens under
her wing" Oh, the warm heart of
God is ready for all those to whom the
world has given the cold shoulder.
My text has it's strongest applica-
ton for people who were 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 with
out seeing also the barn and the
haymow 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 neighbors and the burial and the
wedding and the deep snowbanks
HnI hot
you to worship and seeing the horses
which, after pulling you to church.
stood around the old clapboarded
meeting house and those who sat at
either end of the church pew and,
indeed, all the scenes of your first
IA years, and you think of what you
were then and of what you are now,
and all 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 cluck 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 clos
ing words of my text, "as hen gath
ereth her chickens under her wings,
and We would not" All, that throws
the responsibility upon us. "Ye
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, surely their
calamities are not the mothers
fault. "Ye would not!" God would,
but how many would not?
When a good man asked a young
woman who had abandoned her home
and who was deploring her wretch
edness why she did not return, the
reply was: II dare not go home.
NY father is so provoked he would
not receive me home" "Then," said
the Christian man, II will test this
And so he wrote to the father. and
the reply came back, and in letter
marked outside Immediate" and in.
side saving: "Let her come at once;
all is forgiven" So Gods invitation
for YOU is marked Immediate" on
the outside, and inside is written:
HE will abundantly pardon" Oh,
We wanderers from God and happi-
ness and home and Heaven, come un-
der the sheltering wing. A vessel in
the Bristol channel was nearing the
rocks called the Steep Holmes. Un-
der the tempest the vessel was un-
manageable, and the only hope was
that the tide would change before she
struck the rocks and went down, and so
the captain stood on the deck, watch in
hand. Captain and crew and passen-
gers were pallid with terror. Taking
another look at his watch and an
other look at the sea, he shouted:
.Thank God, we are saved! The tide
has turned! One minute more and
we would have struck the rocks!"
! Some of you have been long while
drifting in the tempest of sin and
sorrow and have been making for
the breakers. Thank God, the tide
has turned. Do you not feel the lift