Middletown transcript., 1906-10-27


subject TO spells Of -
the spirits, the bl BE called
them, and William and bis wife
at first thought tlat he was snfs
fering from bis old complaint,
but they soon realized that hrs
mental barometer bad reached a
lower mark than ever before, In
the morning he began family
worship By reading from Lamen-
tati5ns, followed It up with q
prayer that was . confession OF
sins, q vail Of woe, q plea for
mercy. This continued for a
number Of days. At last be an.
nounced one morning I'm going
away to be gone all day. Don
ask me where, for / II prob ~ re
about it if you do.
ASH yon could tell q lie, father
laughed Amelia
Are you able to 60 alone2 asked
william.
Oh, yes, yes; | couldn't go any
other way. and I'm as able now
as I ever will be-.
Mrs. Dove looked little sur.
prised to see the deacon again,
but he Immediately plunged into
his subject.
Mis- Dove, I've come to you
for advice; nobody knows the
distress of mind I've been in since
/ was here. Before I started to
come over here that day, Mely
asked me where was going, aud
I ups and says. Oh just over 10
the village. Beats all how easy
that lie slipped out! Twas just
as If I'd told 'em all my HE
never relied that Id told it until
/ was most home. Now. what
am / going to do abont i?
can't bear TO look eMely nor any
body else in the face. I've
preached truthfulness and prac-
tised it, too, all my life, and to
think lying should come 50 nat.
ural ,now. / thought my feet
we're set so firm in the ways Of
truth and uprightness that they
could not turn aside. Perhaps
I felt too secure, and this fall has
come as punishment.
Mrs, Dowie looked at hin in
astonishment. She noticed the
marks of distress in his face; he
had grown old and feeble since
his former visit, and s pitied
him.
Why, Deacon Given, that was
such q trife! What most folks
would call whife lie, she said
gently. -
q, He.s ened up and looked
ly. There amt such
a white lie. a lie is q
lin is black, and foul, and
Surely you think 50? He
"a at her keenly,
Yes, yes, of course do; but |
q moi believe that you have com
= mitted a sin that cannot be for
given.
The Lord is gracious aud merl-
full. i have prayed Him every
day to forgive me, but | dolf,t
feel right vet,
Perhaps you viii !. e better #
you tell Amelia and your son.
She smiled encouragingly as
she spoke.
I s'pose that must be what 5
right, because it's 50 hard to DO.
I've been lighting against it all
the time. Only this morning
,Mely said she didn't believe that
IcouId tell a lie; now to think I
must tell her that | have lied and
it tcome easy.
His distress, shame and humil7
iation were SO great that she
longed to comfort him. He had
appealed to her for help, and size
wanted to help him. With the
impalsiveness that had ontliyed
her youth, she laid her hand on
his and asked
Wilt help you any If change
my mind? feel that perhaps I
have been the cause of your trou-
BILE, and would like to make il
up to- you:
why, Why You don't moan
it! The deacon's look Of woe
suddenly changed TO joy as he
took the plump hand in his. But
don't want you to think il was
any fault of yours. am the
sinner, and I'll bear tie blams.
Well, Deacon, to tell the truth,
I'VE thought q good deal about
how lonesome you must be, and
il you think / can make your life
any happier. I'm willing 70 trx.
How glad I feel. Ont Vt my
bitterness has come forth sweet,