The semi-weekly messenger. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1897-1908, 1903-02-13
Tapping on the Pane.
(By J.. Macdonald OXley.)

CBy j. Macdonald OXley.)
1t is not only when the issue depends
upon strength Of arm or of
aim that the help OF another may
mean all the difference between victo-
ry and defeat. There are spiritual con-
fiicts unseen by human eyes in which.
if it car only be afforded at the RICH
ONE the support of al understand
ing and sympathiZing spirit turns the
scales in favor of the right.
An Illustration of this occurred re-
Gently at an American seaside resort.
One Of the cottages which stood some
distance from the beach was occupied
by a mother with her only son a par
ticularly bright, sturdy youngster. who
claimed credit for seven years.
On a certain day she said to her boy
at lunch:
Now, Rodney, 1 don't van you to
go down to the beach this afternoon,
but just to play abou the lawn until !
come out, n then we will go for a
walk"
Rodney made no protest. although
his facn foil. and after his mother had
retired to her room he went out on I
lawn 10 alnuse himself. 1t was a very
hot afternoon; he had no companions,
and the time soon began to hang heavy
on his hands.
Now and then some of his playmates
would pass, or their way to the beach,
n shout:
Come along, Rodney, We're going
to wade!"
But he shook his head.
| He could see the glistening ocean
| from the Veranda, and it never seemed
more attractive nor the cottage more
utterly dull. Presently he walked
| slowly down to the gate and began to
set lips n hands clasped tight behind
him, he as slowly returned to the
veranda.
Again, yielding to temptation, he
went to the gate. This time he opened
it n little, but instead Of passing
through, he closed it sharply, n once
more made his way back to the YER
| anda.
How hot and lonely and stupid. it
was there, and what a merry time the
other children were having on the
cool. moist sand at the edge of the
frOthing wavelets! He bore 1t as long
as he could, and then running swiftly
down the gravel path, opened the gate
and scampered off to join his play
mates.
it was tea time when he returned.
and his mother met him with uplifted
finger and ~reproving look.
"Ah, Rodney. Rodney" h said,
you have disobeyed me- You have
been at the beach IN spite Of what 1
I told ynu!"
Rooney s naming CneeKS ana GOWN
cast eyes and silent tongue constituted
q sufficient confession. and his mother
went on:
Now, I want to tell you, Rodney,
that I was watching you all the time.
l saw you go to the gate twice and
come back. then go through it the
third time"
Rodney suddenly found his tongue,
and looking up at his mother with a
world of meaning in his big brown
eyes. said:
"You were watching me the whole
time?"
Yes" answered the mother, wonder
ing what was in the little mind.
And you saw me go down to the
gate and come back again." he con-
tinued-
Il did" was her esponse still more
perpleXed.
although the little lips trembled. why
didn't o tap on the window and he'll
Il fellow?"
Oh, the infinite, inexpressible pathos
of it, The baby conscience struggling
for the right, and only needing tbs
quiet tap of the mothers finger upor
the window pane to nerve it for vic.
tory! Never while h lived would
Rodney's mother forget the lesson h
taught her that evening, and it may
be that to many a life here cores the
same opportunity in a larger field
when the right word, fully spoken. thu
silent clasp of the hand, or perchanc'
only the cheering glance of the eye
will prove the tapping on the pane
which inspireS 10 decisive victory.