The Newtown bee., 1904-10-28

pensive way, and finally said in tone rather lacking in assurance:-
 "How can we help it? Your broth CTS are the ones that have determined this arrangement. It was only natural that Jacob, the oldest, should have re- ceived the house, and you the vine yard, the share of the second child. Why should you feel as you do? We cannot very we'll dig it out to replace it by a potato tield!"
 These were the very last words MT
 Belhomme had used, but the pastor,
 though strongly impressed by the CO., | incidence, answered heSitatingly:- "Of course it would be foolish to-" | He had not finished expressing his
 thought, when the inner voice distinct
 ly replied: "Foolish! How so? If
 wine is bad thing, why should not
 the vineyard be destroyed? Did not
 the Lord say, If thy right hand caus-
 es thee to fall into temptation, cut it
 off? How far more serious was the
 hand cutting process compared to the
 destruction of his vineW But to this
 he rejoined, by way of apology, "What
 of the neceSSarieS of life?"
 It was but a few days after when MT Cauche said to his wife: Suppose:
 we go and have look at our vineyard? The weather is fine; the grapes are
 getting ripe, and we might gather a
 few punches for the children. Can't
 you come along with your basket?" Mrs Cauche had to deny herself and
 her husband this recreation, busy as
 she always was with her many house
 duties. The pastor, accordingly, took the basket and started on his errand. Passing through the village, he met a group of peasants that bowed to him. He had hardly gone by when he heard
 one of them remark, '"Ihat pastor of
 ours is going to see how his vineyard
 is getting on''
 MT Cauche also heard the laugh that
 followed, but kept on his way, already
 picturing to himself his children's joy
 on his return home with the grapes.
 The weather was warm. In the
 west there was beautiful sunset,
 which he could not lhelp admiring.
 The white summits of the Alps pre- sented a gorgeous spectacle, and won-
 derful was the harmony which Nature set out to celebrate the glory of her
 Maker. External things were tuning ! their beauties, as so many musical in- struments ready to play their soft ) prelude to the coming night.
 "Where could be the harm?" thought the worthy pastor, coming back to his , pre-occupations. "How is one to be. lieve that the Lord ever created any. thing that is not for our own good: } He has drawn this beautiful picture tC elevate our hearts, and were a vine. yard an evil would he ever have made , it surrounded by so many splendors: Would he have adorned yonder hills with it? No! Abuse alone is hurtful , in anything. Ii moderate use ot wine was Sin,-hOw to explain ChriSt's $ miracle at Cana?"
 , Thus reasoning, MT Cauche reached his vineyard. There it stood, more beautiful than all the surrounding } ones. He was suddenly seized with 8 strong love for it's young, fecund and smiling beauty. Was not that beauty , the result of his fathers assiduous work? Was it not also the work o1 his grandfather, whom he could re- . member-of his great-grandfathe whom he had never known-of all his ancestors, now in oblivion? Were they } not the ones that had tOiled so long . and so hard to take care of it; fighting inch by inch against the many pre- } vailing diseases; attending to it's needs and protecting it, according to the season, against frost and hail? Yes } indeed, that vineyard belonged to al those dead, who had devoted their lives to it.
 } How present they were, the days o1 his childhood, so often spent in this very spot. How well he remembered } the gentle words his father woulC speak to him, when comparing his vineyard to beloved friend whose } rather feeble health was always a cause of unceasing anxiety!
 Deeply moved by all these tender by } zones, the pastor concluded: "There is blessing over this vine! It makes one feel better just for looking at it. , No, decidedly, man has no right to de. spise anything God has granted to him!' And he began to select the ripest grapes, with which he had soon filled his basket.
 l AS he waS returninp thrOrph the