would suspect you were blind from your firm step and your cheerful
countenance. May I ask how it is you preserve so happy an aspect under
so great a misfortune?”
“By looking at what I have, and not at what I have lost,” replied the
blind man. “Though I cannot see, I can hear the voice of my friends,
the sound of music, the singing of birds. I can taste three good meals,
and enjoy them, every day. I can smell a rose in bloom farther than you
can, for all my senses that remain are keener for the absence of the
one that is gone. My health, too, is good, and I have learned to work
so skilfully at basket-making that, with a little I have beside, I am
able to pay my own way without being a burden to others. Thus, in the
apportioning of my lot, so much more has been given than taken, that I
consider life’s bargain a good one for me.”
[Illustration]
Having thus spoken, the blind man, after a few moments’ rest, bade his
new acquaintance “Good-bye,” and, rising from the bench, felt his way
cautiously, counting each step, until he reached the middle of the
sidewalk, when he wheeled around and proceeded on his way with the same
measured tread that had first attracted his companion’s attention. As
he disappeared the latter said:
“What is my limp, which still permits me to walk wherever I will,
to his blindness, which shuts out every ray of light? Yet he is the
happier of the two! After all, blind as he is, I was doing myself no
unkindness in wishing I could take his place.”
* * * * *
How often does he who has the most go poor because he is unconscious of
it! while he who has the least is made rich by being able to appreciate
what he has.
[Illustration]
OTHER BIRDS’ FEATHERS.
A GANDER and a cock lived on the same farm. They were young and
handsome birds, each well satisfied with himself, but, unfortunately,
jealous of the other. This made them always ready to pick a quarrel.
Chancing one day to meet beside a brook that ran by the farmhouse, the
cock straightened himself up and said:
“Look at my long and graceful tail-feathers, and compare them with the
short stubby quills in your tail.”
To which the gander replied:
“Look at the soft white down on my breast, and compare it with the
frowsy black stubble on yours.”
“I can crow,” said the cock, “but you can’t.”
“I can swim,” said the gander, “and you can’t.”
“I can!” “I can!” cried both birds in a rage; and with that the cock
jumped into the water and nearly drowned himself in attempting to swim,
and the gander strutted up and down trying to crow.
Just then a goose, with her brood of goslings passing by, looked at
them, and said:
“My children, take warning from these two fools. Be content, when you
grow up, to wear your own feathers, and to let other birds wear theirs.”
* * * * *
There are always persons about us who possess some gifts that we lack.
To deny them credit for these only makes our defects more plain, and
brings disgrace on what good qualities we have.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE NIGHT-WATCHMAN.
A CERTAIN man who prided himself upon his infidel opinions desired to
employ a watchman around his house during the night. This it was no
more than prudent for him to do, as he was very rich, keeping up an
expensive establishment and known often to have a large amount of money
about his person.
[Illustration]
Many came to apply for the position he wanted filled, some of whom
he dismissed at a glance, some after a brief interview; but others
appeared well qualified for the place. Of these, three came equally
well recommended, and he determined to make his choice from among
them. He therefore took them apart separately, and after inquiring more
particularly into their former occupations and history wrote down the
places of their residence, and also, without letting them know it, a
careful description of their dress and appearance. As soon as they were
gone he called three of his servants to him and said:
“You know I am looking for a man as night-watchman; I think he can be
found among those who have just left, and I want you to assist me in
making a selection. To-morrow will be Sunday. Be up, all of you, bright
and early, and one go and stand near the lodging-place of each of these
men. Watch them when they come out in the morning, keep near them all
day, and come here at night and report what you have seen.”
The servants, promising obedience, retired, and the next night,
according to orders, returned to their master.
“And what have you to tell about your man?” he said to the first who
appeared.
“He spent the day in the country,” replied the servant.
“Sensible fellow!” said his master. “And did you go with him?”
“Indeed I did—got off at the same station, took dinner at the same
table, and came back in the same train.”
“And how did he behave himself?”
“Like a sensible fellow, sir, as you called him. He had a friend with
him, and they just smoked their cigars and lay about in the shade all
day; took a glass of beer now and then—nothing more. I believe he’s the
very man that would suit you.” Here the second servant came in.
“And what have you to say?” asked his master.
“My man,” replied the servant, “went to the tavern.”
“He’s none the worse for that, if he didn’t take too much after he got
there.”
“And he didn’t; only three glasses—I counted them—between breakfast and
dinner.”
“Little enough!”
“You’d have thought so if you had only seen how his friends pressed
him, a dozen times, to take more.”
“But he wouldn’t?”
“They couldn’t make him. He’s just the man for a watchman, I’m sure.”
The third servant now appeared.
“And where did your man go?” asked his master.
“To church,” replied the servant.
“Did you follow him?”
“You told me to, and I did, and sat in the pew right behind him.” At
this the other men laughed.
“Well, did he gape around at his neighbors, and then fall asleep, like
the rest of the hypocrites who go there?”
“No; I must tell you the truth.”
“Let’s have it, then.”
“I watched him and never took my eyes off him, and I tell you he’s in
earnest.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he’s among them that believe there’s a God, and have made up
their mind to serve him.”
“That’ll do,” said the master. “You have made your report, and now you
may go.”
The next night there was a new watchman around the rich infidel’s
house. It was he who went to church on a Sunday.
* * * * *
When they must commit themselves, or their substance, to another’s
keeping, both good men and bad men want good men to serve them.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
SINGLE AND DOUBLE.
A FARMER who owned a lazy horse was riding him barebacked one day, when
the beast began to complain of his load, saying:
“Such a heavy man as you ought to ride in a wagon and have a pair
instead of one poor overworked horse to carry him.”
The farmer made no reply, but jogged on quietly. Presently he came up
with one of his neighbors afoot. The farmer slackened his pace and the
man walked beside him in the road, the two talking together about their
corn, and oats, and clover. They had not gone far before the farmer
noticed a limp in his neighbor’s gait.
“What is the matter?” said he.
“A sharp peg in my boot,” replied the other, “seems to object to my
walking.”
[Illustration]
“Then you’d better get up and ride behind me,” said the farmer.
“That I will,” said the man—“gladly; and thank you.”
As he clambered on to the horse from the top of a fence beside which
his friend had stopped, the animal said to himself:
“Ah! I did not know when I was well off. Willingly now would I carry my
master alone, but another behind him almost breaks my back. Never again
will I complain of my load until I have asked myself how I should feel
if it were suddenly made twice as heavy.”
* * * * *
When real discomforts come, we look back and wonder how we could have
fretted under those which were only imaginary.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE BOASTFUL FLY.
A FLY that had lodged on a crumbling wall, seeing other flies swarming
around it, began to boast about their numbers, saying:
“Look at us! Multitudes in this little space! We are everywhere—in the
garden among the flowers, in the field amid the clover, in the woods
darting in and out of the sunbeams that fall between the branches.”
Here a humming-bird lighted in a trumpet-vine that grew over the wall.
Said the fly:
“You are a traveller, sir, I hear, and have been to other countries.
Pray, have you ever been in any place where there are no flies?”
“Never,” said the humming-bird.
“Oh that I had your strong wings,” cried the fly, “to carry me where I
could see the flies that live far away as well as those that live here!
But you have seen them; maybe, now, you can guess how many flies there
are?”
“Impossible!” said the bird. “You cannot be counted. Why, all the
bluebirds and blackbirds, the humming-birds, and birds of every kind,
put together, are as nothing compared with you!”
“We are the people,” continued the boastful fly, raising its tiny
voice—“not so big as some others, we’ll admit, but look at our numbers:
myriads upon myriads!”
“Great in numbers, it is true,” said a mossy stone in the wall, “but
one thing you’ve forgotten.”
“What is that?” asked the fly.
“That midsummer is already past, and in a few short weeks the green
will have faded from the fields, and frost will cover the ground; and
then, though we look diligently for you, not one of all your myriads
shall be found.”
* * * * *
[Illustration]
That which seems great in the light of the present, when looked at in
the light of the future shrinks into nothingness.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE MENDED BOOTS.
A MAN who had a pair of boots that needed mending carried them to the
cobbler’s and dropped them beside his bench, saying, “They’ll do any
time to-day; send them home as soon as they are finished,” and without
waiting for an answer departed.
While the cobbler was examining the boots and preparing to go to work
on them, another man, with a badly-worn pair in his hand, came into the
shop, and said:
“I want you to mend these at once; I’ll send for them in the evening.”
At this the cobbler let the first pair fall upon the floor, saying to
himself: “As he will send, I must be sure and have them ready.”
And, going to work on them, he kept at it until they were done. In the
evening the man’s little son called, and carried them away with him.
The next day, after breakfast, as he sat down on his bench, the cobbler
said:
“Now I must get at the other pair, that was left first.”
But just as he was putting the last into one of them, a man entered the
shop with a quick step and handed him a pair of shoes that were almost
worn to pieces:
“I must have these, without fail, in the morning,” he cried, “and will
call for them myself. On no account disappoint me.”
The cobbler at once dropped the boot that was in his lap, and, seeming
to have caught the man’s ardor, thrust the last into one of his shoes
and continued to work diligently until evening, and so finished them.
In the morning the man appeared, with as rapid a step as ever, and,
finding his shoes done, paid for them, and was quickly gone.
A little while after this, as the cobbler sat calmly reading his
newspaper, the man who left the first pair strolled into the shop.
[Illustration]
“As I happen to be passing,” he said, “I’ll just take my boots with
me.” But, seeing a confused look on the cobbler’s face, he added:
“Of course they’re ready; you know they were to be done the day before
yesterday.”
Then, looking on the floor, he saw them lying exactly where he had left
them.
“I’ve been so very bu—busy,” stammered the cobbler, “that I haven’t got
’em quite finished yet.”
“‘Quite finished’!” exclaimed the man. “Why, you haven’t touched them!”
“But I’m going to begin this minute,” said the cobbler, “and you shall
have them to-morrow, for certain.”
* * * * *
He who is the least urgent is apt to be the last served.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE CRIPPLE AND HIS STAFF.
A POOR cripple who had to go on foot to the hospital (where only he
could be cured) cut a staff to help him in walking. It was the best he
could get from the woods that grew by the way, and was just like those
that other cripples used on that same road.
[Illustration]
For a time, as long as the road was smooth, the staff seemed to be all
that he needed; but when he came to an uneven place, he found that it
did not answer. It was too short, though as long as that sort of wood
grew, and it was too rough, hurting his hand as he leaned upon it.
Beside this, it did not take a firm hold on the ground, but slipped
from under him, giving him many falls.
[Illustration]
After one of these falls, while he was lying prostrate and hardly able
to rise, a man came to him with a pair of crutches in his hand. The man
raised him up from the ground, put the crutches under his arms, and
showed him how to walk with them.
[Illustration]
And now the poor cripple was overjoyed to find that he could walk with
comparative ease and with perfect safety. Yet he kept the staff that he
had cut for himself, carrying it, thrust under his girdle, across his
back, behind him.
He walked leaning on his crutches for a considerable distance and over
a good deal of rough ground, and then came to another smooth spot.
[Illustration]
Here a desire seized him to try his staff again. But why should he want
to do this? In the first place, he had forgotten in that short space of
time the falls it had before given him. Then it seemed as if the staff
would be lighter and more easily handled than the crutches. But perhaps
the chief reason was that he would not appear so great a cripple with
the staff as with the crutches; for above all things else the cripple
desires to appear not a cripple, and to seem to walk as if nothing were
the matter with him.
So he tried his staff again, and for a time got along quite well.
[Illustration]
While he was walking at his best, hardly limping, as he thought, a man
came to him saying:
“How well you walk! That staff is just the thing for you. But you don’t
need the crutches; why do you cumber yourself with them?”
With this the man took hold of the crutches to take them from him,
but the cripple would not let go of them. The man stood and reasoned
a while with him; but when he found it was of no use, he turned away,
disgusted, saying, as he left him:
“Any way, you are a fool, to keep both.”
[Illustration]
The cripple had not gone much farther, leaning on his staff, when he
came to some more rough ground, where he floundered about for a while
and then fell to the earth, striking his head and bringing the blood.
Then he was glad that he had not parted with the crutches. He drew them
out from behind him, put them under his arms, and proceeded on his way.
Now we should think that he would never trust to his staff again.
But it was not so. He hardly ever came to a smooth place that he did
not draw it forth and walk with it, till he learned again, by sad
experience, that it would not support him; so that this was, in fact,
the history of his going—toiling along with his staff and falling, and
then betaking himself to his crutches once more.
[Illustration]
At last he came to the foot of the hill on the top of which was the
hospital. But the ascent of that hill! he was terrified as he looked at
it. It was covered with rocks and rolling stones, and beside its steep
path was a yawning chasm. He stood gazing at it for a moment, and then,
as if realizing for the first time his actual needs, he drew forth his
staff and cast it from him as far as his strength would send it.
Now, he had not known himself what a weight that staff had been to him,
for no sooner was he rid of it than it seemed to him almost as if he
had wings. Then, resting wholly on his crutches, he addressed himself
to his last labor. And, truly, those who looked after him saw that he
made that most difficult ascent (up to the place where he knew there
was a Physician who would heal him) as if it were the easiest part of
his journey.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE SEARCH.
A MAN had a never-failing spring in his grounds, the water from which
he brought through pipes to his house. There it was used for drinking,
cooking, washing, and all domestic purposes. After a time, however, the
family became aware that, from some cause, the water was tainted. They
were loth to acknowledge this, but it was so evident that all their
wishes to the contrary could not deceive them.
The first thing the man did was to go to the spring and examine it. No
water could look purer. He dipped a cupful from the surface, and drank
it without detecting any unpleasant taste. What was next to be done?
He had heard of a filter for sale at the village store. It would cost
several dollars, but the doctor’s bill might come to a great deal more.
There was no help for it: the filter was bought and placed where
every drop from the spring passed through it before being used at the
house. Reluctant indeed were the man and his family, after such an
expense, still to recognize, without being able to detect the cause of,
the impurity.
[Illustration]
But one course was left, and that was to take up and examine every
foot of pipe through which the water ran. This required a whole day’s
labor. Nevertheless, it was done. No dead toads or frogs were found in
it, so it was carefully cleaned and laid back in its place. The water
was turned on again, and, although there was in reality no reason to
look for an improvement, the family felt disappointed when it became
evident, after all this additional trouble, that the disagreeable taste
remained.
[Illustration]
The man sat silent all the evening after his hard day’s work,
discouraged, but still trying to devise some means of prosecuting his
search. The next morning he rose up bright and early, and without
saying a word to any one put his long post-spade over his shoulder and
walked out to the spring. There, beginning a little way back from its
edge, he began to dig. Finding nothing but good top-soil, with clay
underneath, he pursued his labors until he had gone almost the whole
way around it. Then he came suddenly upon a dark spot in the earth.
He dug into it still deeper; the odor that arose from it revealed its
nature: it was a mass of decay. He uncovered it to the spring’s
side, and found that it cropped out there at the very spot where his
pipe opened into the water. At last the cause of all his trouble was
revealed.
It was no small task to dam back the rising tide, so that the foul
matter could be removed and replaced with pure earth. But, now that
he could see where to direct his efforts, this was a simple matter,
requiring only persevering labor, which was willingly bestowed; and
so in due time the work was well and thoroughly done and the object
attained. And the man and his family continued ever afterward to enjoy
the pure water of the spring.
* * * * *
As long as we allow the source to remain impure, we will try in vain to
purify that which issues from it.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE SWALLOWS AND THE WINDMILL.
A PAIR of swallows, while looking for a barn in which to build, came
across a windmill, with its sails furled and its great wheel standing
motionless.
“What sort of a place is this?” they said. “Surely no better can
be found for our home. We’ll let other swallows go into the old
tumble-down barns around, but this beautiful tower we will secure for
ourselves.”
Then, flying below the dome-like roof of the mill, they discovered a
small window, just under the eaves, with a pane of glass broken out,
through which they darted, and soon picked out a spot under a rafter
inside for their nest. At once they went to work building it. A pond
near by supplied them with mud. Working up little balls of this with
their bills, they carried them into the mill and fastened them against
the rafter they had chosen. In this way, adding little by little, as a
bricklayer builds up a house, they built up the walls of their nest.
Then they brought grass to line the inside, coiling it around nicely
that it might be smooth and even. Last of all, above the grass, they
made a bed of soft feathers.
Now, it happened, the very next night after all this was finished, that
a strong wind sprang up, and the next morning early the miller appeared
and went into his mill. Presently he came out again, and, standing on
the ground, under the great wheel, began to unfurl the sails on each of
its four arms, one after the other. As soon as this was done, loosening
its fastenings he let the wheel go; and the wind, filling the sails,
began to turn it around—at first slowly, but gradually faster and
faster, until it was running at full speed.
The swallows, that were taking a holiday after their labors, and flying
about joyously up in the air, looked down surprised at what was going
on. But their surprise was turned to dismay when they found that the
wheel was revolving directly in front of the little window through
which they gained entrance into the mill. They flew from side to
side, hour after hour, hoping the wheel would stop; but it never once
rested through the day or the night, and continued to go until another
morning appeared. Then, wearied out and in despair, they lodged on a
fence near by.
[Illustration]
Here another swallow, that had her home in a neighboring barn, saw them
perched with drooping wings. Lighting beside them, she asked what was
the matter.
“‘Matter’!” cried they. “We are ruined. The man in yonder mill tied up
his horrid wheel just long enough for us to build our nest under his
roof, and then set it going. Look at it! Were we inside, we could never
get out; and now that we are out, we can never get in. So cruelly have
we been deceived!”
“You have been deceived, my friends, that is true,” replied the other,
gently, “but not by the miller: you have deceived yourselves. What does
he care for swallows? It was your place to inquire how the building was
used, before making your nest in it. Instead of doing this, you took
the risk, and so have lost your labor. But do not despair as though all
had been lost. If you will be satisfied to lodge like other swallows,
and will come to our barn, across yonder field, there is plenty of room
left over the haymow, and time enough too, for you to build another
nest; and there you may yet rear your brood in peace and content.”
* * * * *
When we take for granted what we ought to prove by careful research, we
are apt to be disappointed in the result; especially is caution needed
when, leaving the old beaten track, we venture to mark out a new path
for ourselves.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE MEDICINE-MAN.
A MAN who lived in an unhealthy region of country supported himself
by preparing and selling a medicine which acted as an antidote to the
malarial or other poison prevailing there. This poison was taken into
the system through the air the people breathed, the water they drank,
and the food they ate. The entire population was suffering from it.
Unless its effects were arrested, they became in the end fatal. The
medicine, however, was a certain cure. Nature had evidently provided
it as a remedy for a people otherwise incurably smitten, and the man
who made a business of preparing it put it up in such quantities that
there was an abundant supply within the reach of all by whom it was
needed.
But here was a curious thing: The man himself neglected to take of the
medicine. This was not because he had escaped the prevailing infection.
Signs of it in his own person were evident enough to his friends, and
some of them who had been cured through his means took occasion to
speak with him on the subject. Said one of them:
“No one knows better than yourself the value of this remedy. And though
it be not always pleasant to take, and requires some self-denial while
using, what is this to the risk of one’s life?”
To this reasonable appeal the man at first made no answer; but when
further pressed, he replied as follows:
“Am I doing any harm, that I should be thus annoyed and interfered
with? Is it not better that I should deal out this medicine than poison
to the people?”
“It is indeed,” said his friend. “You are doing no harm, but good, to
others, but are not resisting the harm that is being done to yourself.”
“That is a personal matter,” said the man, “with which nobody else has
anything to do. I can attend to my own health, and have no wish that
another should prescribe for me.”
So they could do no more, but had to stand by and see the fatal malady
increasing upon him.