A lady was one day taking a walk along a country lane, and just as she
was passing the gate of a field a horse and cart came out, and went down
the road in the same direction as she was going, and oh! how the wheels
did squeak! The lady longed to get away from the sound of them. First
she walked very quickly, hoping to get well ahead; but no, the horse
hurried up too, and kept pace with her. Perhaps =he= disliked the
squeaking, and wanted his journey to be quickly finished. Then she
lingered behind, and sauntered along slowly, but squeak, squeak--the
hateful sound was still there. At last the cart was driven down a lane
to the right, and now the lady could listen to the songs of the birds,
the humming of the bees, and the sweet rustle of the leaves as the wind
played amongst them. "How much pleasanter," thought she, "are these
sounds than the squeaking of the wheels."
I wonder if you have ever seen any little children who make you think of
those disagreeable wheels? They are children who do not like to lend
their toys, or to play the games that their companions suggest, but who
like, instead, to please themselves.
Do you know what the wheels needed to make them go sweetly? They needed
oil. And the disagreeable children who grate on us with their selfish,
unkind ways, need =another= sort of oil--the oil of kindness. =That=
will make things go sweetly; so we will write on the blackboard
(Blackboard)
Squeaking Wheels need Oil.
Children need the Oil of Kindness.