The Laurens advertiser. (Laurens, S.C.) 1885-1973, 1904-06-22

. chANA - - AON AhNC $4,000 @@--
she uttered the words, Are you quite
sure z" one felt that things were in the
balance. / could not help looking at
the Pilot with intense anxiety. What
would he answer? The Pilot gazed out
OF the window upon the hills for a few
monents-how long the silence SEEM
ed.-then. turning, locked into the eyes
that searched his so steadily and an
s6cred simply:
yes. Gwen, 1 am quite sure," Then,
with quick inspiration, he got her
mothers Bible and said, Now, Gwen,
try TO see it as 1 read" But before he
read. with the true artists instinct he
created the proper atmosphere. BY O
few vivid words he made us feel the
pathetic loneliness OF the Man OF Sor-
rows IN his last sad days. Then he
read that masterpiece Of all tragic pic
turing, the story OF Gethsemane. And
as he read we saw 1t all-the garden
and the trees and the sorrow stricken
Man alone with his mysterious agony.
We heard the prayer SO pathetically
submissive, and then, for answer, the
rabblc and the traitor.
Gwen was far too quick to need eX-
PLANTATION, and the Pilot. only said, you
see, Gwen, God gave nothing but the
best-to his own Son only the best
"The best? They too him away,
didn't theyf" She knew the story we'll.
Yes, but listen" He turned the
leaves rapidly and read: owe see
Jesus for the suffering Of death crown
ed with glory and honor That is how
he got his kingdom"
Gwen listened silent, but unconvinced,
and then said slowly:
but how can this be best for me7 I
am no use to any one. 1t can't be best
to just lie here and make them all wait
on me, a~nd-and-I did want to help
daddy-and-oh-I know they will get
tired of me! They are getting tired al
ready. I-I--can't help being hateful."
She was by this time sobbing as I
had never heard her before-deep, pos
sionate sobs. Then again the Pilot had
IN inspiration.
"Now, Gwen" be said severely. "you
know We're not as mean as that and
that you are just talking nonsense. ev-
cry word. Now I'm going to smooth
out your red hair and tell you q story"
Its not red she cried, between her
sobs. This was her sore point.
at IS red, as red as can bel q bean
tiful. shining purple red" said the Pilot
emphatically, beginning to brush.
"Purple!" cried Gwen s~corpfully.
Yes, I've seen 1t In the sun. purple.
Haven't your" said the Pilot, appealing
to me. "And my story Is aboutIthe can
yon, our canyon, your canyon, down
there"
as 1t true?" asked Gwen, already
soothed by the cool, quick moving
hands.
glanced around the room-"as the Pill
grim's Progress" This was satisfac-
tory, and the story went on.
A first there were no canyons, but
only the broad, open prairie. One day
the master Of the prairie, walking out
over his great lawns, where were only
grasses, asked the prairie, Where are
your flowers?' and the prairie said,
Master, l have no seeds Then he
spoke to the birds, and they carried
seeds of every kind Of flower and
strewed them far and wide, and soon
the prairie bloomed with crocuses
and roses and buffalo beans and the
yellow crowfoot apd the wild sun1ow-
ers and the red lilies all the summer
long.
Then the master came and was we'll
pleased, but he missed the flowers he
loved best Of all. and he said to tho
prairie, Where are the clematis and
the ~columbine, the sweet violets and
wind flowers, and all the ferns and
| Al ..-t~ 10 --1t.-
to the birds, md again they carried all
the seeds and strewed them far and
wide. But, again, when the master
came, he could not inc the flowers he
loved best of all, and he said, Where
are those, my sweetest fiowersT and
the prairie cried s~orrowfully, ooh. mas
ter, 1 canno keep the flowers, for the
winds sweep 'ercely and the sun beats
upon my breast, and they wither up
and fly away
"Then the master spoke to the light
ming, and with one swift blow the
lightning cleft the prairie to the heart.
And the prairie rocked and groancd IN
agony, and for many Il day moaned Bit
terly over Its black, jagged, gaping
wound. But the Little Swan poured
its waters through the cleft Ind car
rled down deep black mold, and once
more the birds carried seeds and
strewed them In the canyon. And AFT
or a long time the rough rocks were
decked out with soft MOSES md trail
ting vines, and all the nooks were hung
with clematis and columbfne, and great
elms lifted their huge tops high up into
the sunlight, and down about their feet
clustered the low ccdars and balsams,
and everywhere the violcts and wind
flowers and maiden hair grew and
doomed, till the canyon became the
masters place for rest and peace and
JOY
The quaint tale was ended, and Gwen
lay quiet for some moments, then said
gently:
Eyes. The canyon flowers are much
the best. Tell me what 1t means"
Then the Pilot read to her: "The
fruits-In read 'lowers'-of the Spirit
are love, JOY, peace, long suffering, gen.
%tlencss, goodness, faith, meckness, self
control, and some of these grow only
In the canyon"
(which are the canyon fowersT" ask-
ed Gwen softly, and the Pilot answered:
"Gentleness, meekness, self control:
but, though the others-love, Joy, peace
bloom In the open, yet never with so
rich n bloom and so sweet a perfume as
in the cnnYon.n