The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1909-11-18
How John Duf. Found His Mind.

Josephine Horton Bruorton, in Christian
Register.
How John Duf, Found His Mind.
John Duff is the solidest man in the
old town Of Britton. While making
handsome additions to his modest in
heritance, he has been open-handed
in public benefactions and private
charities. Even Schmidt, the social
list tailor, and Gorton, the anarchist
shoemaker, have been heard to admit
that II all men got property so fairly
and used 1t so honorably, the mis-
chiefs and miseries of the present
economic order would soon mend
themselves.
In fact, Squire Duff, as they call
him, has never been suspected of en-
riching himself by impoverishing
others, and many of his townsmen
might testify that his prosperity had
contributed largely to their own.
His rugged integrity is in partner
ship with a clear and broad intelli-
gence. He is not lawyer; yet from
near and far men come to him for
counsel, and refer their disputes to
him for settlement. In the town
meeting, after other voices have been
heard, the doubtful scale is generally
tipped by few cool words from John
Duff. His name has even been sug-
gested for place in the governors
council
The village schoolmaster once
called him "Old Brains" and the title
has stuck, just as If Dartmouth Col
lege had decorated him with q de-
gree.
But now comes a pretty piece of
history. In his youth John Duff was
looked upon as the mcst unpromising
lad in Dritton. Old Peter Duff and
his wife were among "the excellent
of the earth" and people wondered
that so worthy a couple should be
burdened and cursed with such rat
tle-pated goodfor-nothing son-their
only child! AS parental admonitions
seemed to fall upon him like sun
shine and rain on desert sand, there
remained only the resource of secret
prayers and tears. The mothers
heart was wrung; the father grew old
before his time
AS John neared his twenty-frst
birthday, he exulted in the thought
that in few weeks the last restraint
would fall away, and he should be
"his own man." But one day the
kind-voiced doctor startled him with
a message: Your father can live but
few hours, and he wishes to see
you" about the disposition of the
property" was Johns inward ques-
ton.
But feeling of awe crept over him
as he stood by the bed of death and
saw the strange change which had
come over the face so familiar to him
from childhood.
A feeble hand reached out to clasp
his own. The voice seemed to come
from far away-from the boundary
line of worlds.
''My son, only ask from you one
promise. After I am gone, will you
go down to the wood-lot every day
for week, and spend half an hour
alone, in thinking?"
Deeply agitated, yet half-relieved
at being let off so easily, John made
the promise.
The day after the funeral he re-
paired to the wood. AS he sat among
the trees, the image of his vanished
father rose before him with a solemn
and commanding grandeur, which
seemed to reprove his own pettiness
and worthlessness. What would he
have me think about, and how am
Could this be the place where he
had gone bird-nesting, chasing squir-
rels, gathering nuts and hallooing
with the other boys-often to the
neglect of his duties? He was here's
now on a different errand, and the
place was changed. For the first time
in his life he was Impressed with ST.
lence and solitude, with the soft air,
the breadths of sunlight and shade,
the pomp of the sky, the unfolding
life and beauty of the springtime.
Some slighted lessons about crea-
tion and the Creator seemed to mix
with the scene, as If he we're part
of the vast order, and yet not in full
harmony with 1t.
Then came pentient memories of
his father, whose forgiveness he could
never ask; stirring of tenderness
toward his lone and sorrowlng moth
er: with anger and shame toward
himself for having caused them Bit
ter years.
But he could not dwell on the
wasted. wretched past. The future
rose to meet him with challenge
and voice of hope. Then all his
newly reused forces of thought and
feeling gathered to a prayer and a
might he rot yet be a man?
A half-hour is long time for an
undisciplined youth TO spend in soli-
tary reflection; but John Duff did not
emerge from the grove for three full
hours.
Mother" said he. in a voice she
had never heard before, you may
trust me now. have found my
mind"
There was much craning of necks
on Sunday morning as the widow
walked to her pew, leaning on the
arm of her son. But not even thu
pastor could realize the fitness and
force OF one verse in the Psalm To-.
the day: II thought on my ways, and
turned my feet unto Thy testimonies"
Our Fathers World.