LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 PRINCETON, N. J. 
 
 Presented by 
 
 "T'roVVV.'B.GTreene,"!)-^ . 
 
 BV 4315^3 [ 
 
 Ward, John William George. 
 Parables for littel people 
 
PARABLES F OR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 REV. J. W. G. WARD 
 
PARABLES FOR 
 LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 Fifty-two Sermonettes 
 
 BY 
 
 REV. J. W. G. WARD 
 
 NEW COURT CHURCH, 
 TOLLINGTON PARK, LONDON 
 
 Author of ''Problems That Perplex!' etc. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 
 
 REV. G. CAMPBELL MORGAN, D.D. 
 
 NEW ^^^SUF YORK 
 GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1 92 1, 
 BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 
 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 
TO 
 
 EILEEN AND BEECHER 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CHILDREN OF EMANUEL, 
 
 BOOTLE AND NEW COURT, LONDON 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 It is told of Abraham Lincoln that once he was 
 asked to express his opinion of a book of poems, 
 and did so by saying: ^^ These poems will be 
 greatly liked by persons who like poems of this 
 sort/' There may have been some veiled sarcasm 
 in that statement — but by no means necessarily so. 
 No poems are liked by all people. It is equally 
 true that every book makes its appeal to certain 
 persons — and having read these Parables, I am 
 constrained to say, and that with no suspicion of 
 sarcasm, they will be greatly loved by people who 
 love stories of this kind. And who are these 
 people ? Unquestionably the very ^ * Little People ' ' 
 for whom they are written. 
 
 Mr. Ward has written with understanding. He 
 is today conducting one of the most conspicuously 
 successful ministries in London, in the church of 
 which I was minister for four years, twenty years 
 ago. He has a remarkable hold upon his young 
 people ; and equally helps the great crowds of busy 
 men and women who throng the sanctuary to the 
 doors. In these Parables we discover something 
 of the secret of his success. Other secrets would 
 be revealed in his preaching and pastoral work. 
 Here he is with the children in the great world of 
 romance, imagination, make-believe; and it is all 
 
viii INTRODUCTION 
 
 so child-like, that a child might have written. That 
 is the greatest charm of the book. Very cleverly 
 too, he gets in his moral, his quiet hint at a lesson 
 to be drawn, without ever seeming to preach. I 
 believe that Mothers everywhere will welcome 
 these Parables for their children; and I am sure 
 the children will get genuine delight in reading 
 them. 
 
 G. Campbell Morgan. 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 New Court Church, of which the author is 
 minister, is one of the famous London churches 
 founded in 1662, during the time of the Puritans, 
 and quaint old Richard Baxter was among its 
 early ministers. The original site near Fleet 
 Street is now occupied by the Law Courts, and 
 the present spacious sanctuary has been the 
 sphere of some notable ministers. World-famed 
 men like Dr. Campbell Morgan, Ossian Davies, 
 and A. C. Hill have been its pastors, and of their 
 successor the British Weekly says: ^'That very 
 able young minister at Tollington Park, the Rev. 
 J. W. G. Ward, can gather round him on a hot 
 June evening a congregation which fills his church, 
 even to the farthest window-seats of the galleries. 
 There is a very stimulating earnestness of purpose 
 in Mr. Ward's methods.'' And these Parables 
 have gained such golden opinions for their 
 originality and charm, that they are published in 
 response to a widely-expressed desire. 
 

 CONTENTS 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Secret of Success .... 15 
 
 II 
 
 A Chat About the Clock 
 
 
 
 . 20 
 
 • III 
 
 The Road to Happiness . 
 
 
 
 . 24 
 
 ' IV 
 
 The Heart of a Hero 
 
 
 
 . 29 
 
 ' V 
 
 A Tale of a Toy-shop . 
 
 
 
 . 33 
 
 VI 
 
 The a. 0. T. C 
 
 
 
 37 
 
 VII 
 
 The February Face . . 
 
 
 
 . 41 
 
 VIII 
 
 The Sunbeam .... 
 
 
 
 45 
 
 IX 
 
 The Queer Comrade . . , 
 
 
 
 49 
 
 X 
 
 The Fairies in the Fire . 
 
 
 
 53 
 
 XI 
 
 The Pirates 
 
 
 
 57 
 
 XII 
 
 Faithful Unto Death . 
 
 
 
 61 
 
 XIII 
 
 Mournful Max, the Miser . 
 
 
 
 64 
 
 XIV 
 
 Ladies First 
 
 
 
 69 
 
 XV 
 
 The Quickening Kiss 
 
 
 
 . 72 
 
 XVI 
 
 The Holy Grail . 
 
 
 
 . 76 
 
 XVII 
 
 The River and the Pool . 
 
 
 
 . 79 
 
 XVIII 
 
 The Finger-Posts . . 
 
 
 
 . 83 
 
xii CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XIX The Two Planters 86 
 
 XX Mark the Merry . . . .; . . 91 
 
 XXI Growing . 95 
 
 XXII Cesar's Collar . ... . . 99 
 
 XXIII The Quest op the Shaver Key . . 102 
 
 XXIV God's Garden . 106 
 
 XXV The Awakening of /.ristobulus . 109 
 
 XXVI The Bear's Tail 113 
 
 XXVII Are Your Feet Shod? . ,. ,. . 117 
 
 XXVIII The Fairy Queen 120 
 
 XXIX Myra of the Magic Touch . . . 124 
 
 XXX Sharp as a Needle 127 
 
 XXXI The Mission of the Mignonette . 130 
 
 XXXII The Two .Dogs 135 
 
 XXXIII The Poppies in the Corn ... 139 
 
 XXXIV Camouflage 142 
 
 XXXV The Helpers . 145 
 
 XXXVI The Quarrelsome Gla^nts ... 149 
 
 XXXVII The Pathfinder 152 
 
 XXXVIII Our Daily Bread 154 
 
 XXXIX The Red Rebel 157 
 

 CONTENTS 
 
 xiii 
 
 XT/ 
 
 Glum or Glad? .... 
 
 PAGB 
 
 . . 160 
 
 XLI 
 
 The "Wizard of the Woods ... , 
 
 . 163 
 
 XTJI 
 
 Playing the Game . . . . 
 
 . 167 
 
 XLIII 
 
 Why thk Leaves Fall . . , 
 
 . . 172 
 
 XLIV 
 
 Chrysanthemums ..[.., 
 
 . . 177 
 
 XLV 
 
 The Good Shepherd . :. . 
 
 . . 180 
 
 XTiVI 
 
 The Poet and the Potteb . , 
 
 . 185 
 
 XLVII 
 
 EoBiN Redbreast . . . ■.. • 
 
 .: . 189 
 
 aiVIII 
 
 The League of Light-givers , 
 
 . 194 
 
 XLIX 
 
 Lessons of the Snow . . , 
 
 . 199 
 
 L 
 
 The Stricken Soldier . . , 
 
 . 205 
 
 LI 
 
 A Strange Noel . . . . ., 
 
 ,. 209 
 
 LII 
 
 The Man Whom Nobody Loved . 
 
 . 214 
 
PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
Where truth in closest words shall fail, 
 Truth embodied in a tale, 
 Shall enter in at lowly doors. 
 
 T— 'Tennyson, 
 
PARABLES FOR LITTLE 
 PEOPLE 
 
 THE SECEET OF SUCCESS 
 
 SOHEAB was just like you. He wanted to make 
 a success of his life. But his parents being 
 dead, he had no one to help him, except the old 
 lady with whom he lived. When he asked her the 
 secret of success, she would shake her head and 
 say, ^ * Ah ! that is more than I ever learnt. No one 
 knows that, unless it be the great ones, and even 
 if they know, they will not tell ! * ' 
 
 Sometimes the boy wandered into the Senate, 
 and listened to the wise men there, but if they 
 knew the secret, they took good care to hide it. 
 And of all the folk he asked, none could give him 
 the answer he sought. 
 
 One night, as Sohrab lay awake, thinking of 
 what he meant to be when he grew up, he was 
 startled by a bright light. It may have been the 
 moon, but as he looked, a beautiful lady stepped 
 out of the silvery beam, and said, ** You called me! 
 What can I dor' 
 
 15 
 
16 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 The little fellow was about to tell lier she was 
 mistaken, when he remembered just in time that it 
 is always rude to contradict a lady, and so he 
 asked, ^'But who are youT' 
 
 The lady smiled. ^'I am the Fairy of a child's 
 wish. If there is anything you want more than 
 another, I can give it you — ^provided it is for your 
 good." 
 
 **What a splendid chance!" thought Sohrab. 
 ''Did she know the secret of success ? At any rate, 
 there was no harm in asking her. ' ' And so he told 
 her what he wanted to know more than anything 
 else in the world. 
 
 The Fairy looked puzzled for a moment. Then 
 she said, *'No one can tell you that. You must 
 discover it for yourself ! ' ' Then she added, as she 
 saw the disappointment in the boy's face, *'But 
 I may be able to help you to find the secret. Shall 
 we try together?" 
 
 She led the way to the palace of a prince. It 
 was a beautiful place, all granite and gold, and 
 numbers of servants were flitting about the rooms, 
 getting ready for the prince's return. Some were 
 arranging flowers in vases. Others were laying the 
 table in the huge banqueting hall with costly ves- 
 sels of gold, while each one seemed to know 
 exactly what he had to do, and went on with his 
 work without paying any attention to the Fairy or 
 the boy. 
 
 **See anything of the secret?" she whispered in 
 Sohrab 's ear. 
 
 **No," replied he, ** unless you mean that one 
 must work for the prince in order to be successful 
 Is that it?" 
 
THE SECRET OF SUCCESS 17 
 
 **Not exactly/' said the Fairy, *'but let us try 
 again/' 
 
 They left the hall, and round by the stables some 
 grooms were breaking-m a nmnber of Arab horses 
 for the prince 's use. The boy was delighted as he 
 watched the antics of the horses, trying to throw 
 the men from their backs, for they had never been 
 ridden before. But when all their efforts proved 
 in vain, the horses would come back flecked with 
 foam, but conquered, and the grooms could do 
 anything with them. 
 
 ^*Is the secret here, do you think T' asked the 
 Fairy. 
 
 ^'I don't know," said Sohrab, ** unless you mean 
 that the boy who would succeed must first learn 
 to obey." 
 
 ' ' That is quite true, and I am glad you saw that 
 much, but we have not yet got the whole secret. 
 Suppose we have still another try." 
 
 He was feeling a little discouraged as the Fairy 
 led him away, but it was some comfort at least 
 to know that she was trying to help him. But 
 where was she taking him now ? They had stopped 
 at a long, low building beyond the stables, and 
 when they peeped in, they saw a man with dozens 
 and dozens of lamps that he was trimming and 
 cleaning. 
 
 It was the lamp-room of the palace. There were 
 small lamps and tall lamps. Some were of fine 
 wrought gold, and others of plain metal. And it 
 took the man all day getting them ready for 
 evening. 
 
 Sohrab noticed that when the man had filled and 
 finished a lamp, he would light it and leave it 
 
18 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 burning until he was ready with the next. Then 
 he would light that, and put out the first. This 
 was the way he tested them, to see that they were 
 quite in order for the palace. 
 
 ' ^ What a fine array you have, ' ' said the Fairy. 
 *^Will you light them all, and let my friend see 
 what they can do altogether!'' 
 
 The man seemed to know the Fairy, for he at 
 once closed the shutters and taking a taper, he 
 lighted every lamp he had ready. The dark room 
 blazed and flashed as though it were the palace of 
 the sun itself! 
 
 **But has this anything to do with the secret?'' 
 asked the boy of the Fairy. **Even with all the 
 lamps lit, I can't see anything of it!" 
 
 She smiled as though she thought he were jest- 
 ing, but in reality she was sorry for him. ''Let 
 us have a chat together, ' ' she said, leading the way 
 to the grounds. ''Now tell me what we have seen." 
 
 "Well, first we saw the prince's servants all 
 as busy as bees." 
 
 " Yes, " the Fairy said. ' ' And what next ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' The horses trying to throw their riders — and 
 they couldn't." 
 
 ' ' Quite right ! And now ? ' ' 
 
 "All the palace lamps alight." 
 
 "Then can't you put the three together and 
 guess what they mean 1 ' ' 
 
 "I wish I could," said the boy. 
 
 "Then we must try together," she said encour- 
 agingly. "The servants intent on doing their 
 prince's bidding mean for you: Do right! The 
 riders, keeping the saddle in spite of all the horses 
 could do, mean: Hold tight! And the lamps 
 
THE SECRET OF SUCCESS 19 
 
 showed US that even the tiniest flame has its part 
 in chasing away the gloom. That means: Be 
 bright ! 
 
 ^^ Do Eight! Hold Tight! Be Bright! That is 
 the secret of success as far as mortals may know 
 it!" 
 
n 
 
 A CHAT ABOUT THE CLOCK 
 
 YOU may have heard people speak of a clock 
 as a good one, but do you know what clock- 
 goodness is! The two things are not quite the 
 same. 
 
 Of course, a clock has a nice clean face, but then 
 yours is always clean, even though it is not kept 
 
 under a glass like the clock's. The clock goes on 
 with its work whether anyone is looking or not, 
 but you never want watching, for you always get 
 your lessons done, and you have never to be re- 
 minded to do what mother told you. The clock 
 keeps its hands out of mischief, and it never 
 strikes anyone. Even when it strikes the hour, 
 the hands do not do the striking. But I can tell 
 
 20 
 
A CHAT ABOUT THE CLOCK 21 
 
 you what they do. They are very wonderful hands, 
 for they can teach us what clock-goodness means. 
 The hands teach us good behaviour: Twice in 
 every twenty-four hours, the hands point straight 
 up and down. That means 6 o 'clock, but it means 
 something else. Can you guess what? Straight 
 up and down means we must be upright in conduct ; 
 down-right in duty. We must strive to do the 
 right, and we must do it with our might. Being 
 down-right in duty means working hard at our 
 
 lessons and never complaining when we have to 
 do something that is hard or unpleasant. But 
 there ! You are always like the clock in that ! 
 
 Those hands teach us to pray, for at the be- 
 ginning of each day, say one minute past 12 a. m., 
 again at 12 noon, and again at 12 midnight, the 
 clock puts its hands together before its face just 
 like a child saying its prayers. Is that too often? 
 No one says his prayers in the middle of the day? 
 Well, you will find that one brave man used to 
 pray three times every day, although the king had 
 forbidden it altogether. His name was Daniel. 
 
22 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 Here is just another thing. They teach ns how 
 to be helpful. Twice every twelve hours — at 9-15 
 and 2-45, you see them stretched out as though 
 they were saying, ^ ^ Here are two hands willing to 
 do any good we can. We are ready to carry or 
 lift, ready to do a little kindness for anyone, ready 
 for any duty the day may bring ! ' ' And this is the 
 readiness that pleases mother so much. How de- 
 lighted she would be if you really tried to help 
 her — and did it willingly, too! Just fancy how 
 
 she would feel if you were to go to her before you 
 went out for that game of which you are so fond 
 and said, **Is there anything you want me to do 
 before I goT' What a light would come into her 
 face! 
 
 It is worth trying to be as good as the clock! 
 And you can easily remember what the clock says, 
 for it is : 
 
 Hands up and down RIGHTEOUSNESS 
 
 Hands together REVERENCE 
 
 Hands open wide READINESS 
 
A CHAT ABOUT THE CLOCK 26 
 
 And as you are now getting big, you will know 
 that just as the hands of the clock depend on what 
 is going on behind the face, so our hands move 
 according to the heart. *^Keep thy heart with all 
 diligence, for out of it are the issues of life," 
 
m 
 
 THE EOAD TO HAPPINESS 
 
 PIEERE was a strange fellow, and no mistake. 
 He always found something to grumble about. 
 **A nice day!'' one of bis neighbours might re- 
 mark, but Pierre would reply something about it 
 raining before night. Or if someone said that the 
 crops were good, the old man would argue that 
 they might be a lot better — and so on. 
 
 People got to dislike Pierre for this. **If there's 
 anything wrong,'' they said, *^he's sure to find 
 it; or if there isn't, then he'll make it." So they 
 crossed the road when they saw him coming, or 
 suddenly remembered they were in a hurry. And 
 Pierre noticed all this. It made him sad, for 
 strange to say, he wanted to be happy like other 
 people, and he knew that this trick of complaining 
 was costing him many a friend. 
 
 One day, a stranger spoke to him as he stood 
 by the gate of his cottage. * * Lovely view you have 
 from here!" said the traveller. 
 
 Pierre stared at him and then replied, **Well, 
 I can't say that I've ever noticed it before, but 
 we do get a terrible lot of fog in these parts. ' ' 
 
 ** Never noticed it!" said the traveller in 
 astonishment. *'"Why, you'll tell me next you've 
 never noticed what a bonny lot of children you 
 have about here. What ? ' ' 
 
 24 
 
THE ROAD TO HAPPINESS 25 
 
 But Pierre had noticed them all right, though 
 he had seldom thought ahout their looks. All he 
 knew was that they annoyed him with their noisy 
 play, and sometimes he wished 
 
 The stranger broke in on his thoughts. **Say, 
 what 's the matter with you, my friend 1 You must 
 excuse me saying so, but you look about the most 
 miserable man I Ve ever met. Perhaps you're not 
 well?'' 
 
 Now in the ordinary way, Pierre would have 
 been vexed if any of his neighbours had spoken 
 to him like that, but there was something about 
 this traveller that made the old man's heart warm 
 to him, and the result was that Pierre told him all 
 his troubles. He was always hunting for happi- 
 ness, but try as he would he could never find it, 
 and so he was gradually becoming a nuisance to 
 everyone because of his habit of grumbling. 
 
 ''I know the very thing," said the man with a 
 smile. *' There's a place over the hill where they 
 cure people of the miserables. It is called the 
 School of Happiness. Why don't you try it?" 
 
 That was something new to Pierre, so next 
 morning he set off. He found the place without 
 much trouble and pulled the bell. After a few 
 moments, the door was opened by a jolly-looking 
 porter who said, * * This way, please ! ' ' 
 
 How did he know what the old man wanted? 
 It must have been the look on his face. Anyway, 
 he led Pierre down a long, long passage till they 
 came to a door. **You are looking for the secret 
 of happiness, aren't you? Well, open that door 
 and you '11 discover it. Eing the bell inside when 
 
26 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 you are ready to go. No, there's nothing to pay!" 
 And with that, the porter was gone. 
 
 Open the door! It was more easily said than 
 done. Old Pierre tried it. It was locked and he 
 could not see any key. He felt along the top ledge 
 of the door. Then he looked under the mat. No 
 key ! Happy thought ! Perhaps there was one on 
 his own bunch that would do. So after trying 
 six or seven, he found one that fitted. The lock 
 gave and the door was open. 
 
 Wondering what it all meant, Pierre stumbled 
 into a small room flooded with sunshine. But the 
 room was quite bare except for a long table by 
 one wall. On this were scores and scores of beau- 
 tiful ornaments, vases and bowls. Some were fine 
 porcelain, and others cut glass, but he noticed that 
 every one he picked up had either a crack or a 
 flaw or else a piece was chipped out. 
 
 He was interested, for he was fond of collecting 
 old china and glass. *'I wonder what these are 
 forT' he mused. ''It's a pity they are imperfect 
 like this. They would be valuable but for the 
 flaws. There!" he said, turning one of the pieces 
 with the blemish to the back, ''one can't see any- 
 thing wrong with that now. But I mustn 't waste 
 time over these. This is not what I've come for. 
 Where's this wonderful secret?" 
 
 Pierre was puzzled. He looked along the table, 
 under it, round it, on the window-sill, but no secret 
 could he find. And then he got vexed. He thought 
 someone was playing a prank on him, so he de- 
 termined to have nothing more to do with the 
 matter, but to get back home. 
 
THE ROAD TO HAPPINESS 27 
 
 He strode to the door, but to his dismay, he 
 found it had swung shut behind him, and in his 
 excitement he had left his keys hanging outside 
 in the lock. He was a prisoner ! 
 
 He rang the bell furiously, and after what 
 seemed quite a long time, he heard footsteps in 
 the passage. The door opened, and a laughing 
 face looked in. '^So you have discovered it!'' 
 
 *^Look here!'' said Pierre, *' What's the mean- 
 ing of this ? As soon as I get back, I shall tell the 
 police — shutting people up here and pretending 
 to teach them the way of happiness. Monstrous, 
 I call it!" 
 
 * ^ Just a minute ! Just a minute ! ' ' replied the 
 porter. ^^Sit down and I'll explain everything. 
 Beg pardon, of course you can't. I forgot there's 
 no chair. But you've got the secret all right — 
 when you like to use it ! " 
 
 Pierre started to stammer something, but the 
 porter took not the slightest notice and went on, 
 * * First of all, you had to unlock the door for your- 
 self : everyone carries a key somewhere about him 
 that will do it. And then, wondering what it all 
 meant, you saw the flaws in these ornaments. Well, 
 there's a flaw in most things in this world, or a 
 crack, and you have to look for the beauty that 
 is there as well for those who can see it. Yes, look 
 for the beauty — and turn the crack to the back ! ' ' 
 
 *' You mean that is the secret?" broke in Pierre. 
 
 **To be sure it is ! Look for the best in people, 
 and for the beautiful things in the world and not 
 only will you find them, but you will find the way 
 of happiness as well ! ' ' 
 
28 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 "Don't look for the flaws as you go through life, 
 And even when you find them, 
 It is wise and kind to be sometimes blind, 
 And seek for the virtue behind them !" 
 
 ' ' Well, I declare ! Turn the crack to the back I ' ' 
 chuckled Pierre as he trudged home. 
 
IV 
 
 THE HEART OF A HERO 
 
 FRANK was not what you would call a hero, 
 though he badly wanted to he one. That was 
 his greatest wish! But then, he lived in a dull, 
 factory town, with drab streets, and houses hud- 
 dled together as though they were frightened of 
 the great works that sent out black smoke just like 
 so many dragons. 
 
 Frank had no father, and so to keep the little 
 home going, his mother had to take in sewing 
 from one of the warehouses. All day long, and 
 sometimes far into the night, too, you might have 
 heard the sewing-machine buzzing away in the one 
 room that was called home. 
 
 The boy used to go to school most days. It was 
 not that he liked it, but he knew that he must learn 
 so that he could work for his mother when he grew 
 up. There was one thing, however, that he did 
 like about school. He could read there about fa- 
 mous men who had done daring deeds and who 
 had left behind them a great example. Drake, the 
 dashing sailor, and Captain Cook, Robin Hood 
 and his merry men. Nelson and Wellington, and 
 many more were all favourites. But he did not 
 stop with these — ^pirates and bushrangers, travel* 
 lers and explorers, all delighted the boy wha 
 wanted to be a hero and do something great. 
 
 29 
 
30 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 You can guess how tired Frank became of the 
 tiny room in which he lived when he had read of 
 the rolling seas and the towering mountains, for 
 the only thing he could see from the window was a 
 roof with some chimney-stacks. 
 
 The truth is, he was just a bit discontented with 
 his lot, aDd the work he had to do made him feel 
 that he could never be anything much. What 
 work? We must whisper this, for Frank would 
 not like anyone to kno^v of it. His mother had 
 taught him to sew ! And when he got home from 
 school, the poor old boy had to set to work, sewing 
 the buttons on the garments his mother had made. 
 It was nearly as bad as carrying the bundles of 
 finished work back to the factory and hearing the 
 other boys laughing at him as they played in the 
 street. He did wish he could be a hero and get 
 away from it all ! 
 
 One day, he had a great idea. There was a min- 
 ister who lived near Frank's school. He preached 
 in the little chapel with the tin roof and the queer 
 poke-bonnet windows, and Frank had heard that, 
 like your minister, he loved girls and boys, and 
 wanted to be their friend. So Frank made up his 
 mind to go and see him, and ask him how to make 
 dreams come true. 
 
 He was shown into a room with rows and rows 
 of books all standing straight like policemen on 
 parade and looking very severe. *'I guess there's 
 something in those books about Robin Hood and 
 all those fellows,'' said the boy to himself. But 
 he had not time to think about them any more, for 
 just then in walked the minister. 
 
 Frank saw that he was such a kindly old gentle- 
 
THE HEART OF A HERO 31 
 
 man that lie told him at once all about his home. 
 
 the work he had to do, and the plans he had 
 formed, and he went on, ^*You see, sir, I don't 
 mnch care what it is, whether I'm a pirate or an 
 outlaw, a soldier or a sailor, but I've got to be a 
 hero ! ' ' Then he stopped. What would the min- 
 ister think of him, talking like that 1 
 
 The old gentleman did not laugh. Instead, he 
 just smiled and said, * ' Quite right, my boy ! But 
 you have got the idea wrong. The answer to your 
 question. Where can I be a hero and how 1 is in the 
 very word, only you must turn it round. A hero ? 
 — 0, here! You can be heroic by doing your duty 
 like a man, and helping your mother just where 
 you are ! ' ' 
 
 Frank's face fell. This was not the answer he 
 expected, but his friend went on, ^^You have the 
 hero head ; what you need is the hero heart. Men 
 show their bravery by fighting and all that, and 
 you must fight against sin and everything that is 
 wrong. I want you to be too much of a hero to 
 shirk your duty because it means something you 
 don't like. Think how heroic your mother must 
 be, working so hard for you. You must show her 
 that you, too, can be brave about those bundles, 
 that you are hero enough to help her. It is ever 
 so much better than grieving her by grumbling 
 because you can't have just what you want. . . . 
 And look here ! You must be a real hero not by 
 going away to some foreign land to do great 
 things, but by doing them here ! ' ' 
 
 Of course, Frank was greatly disappointed. He 
 had thought that the good man would show him 
 the way at once to make his dreams come true. 
 
32 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 But when his mother got back from the warehouse 
 that night, what do you think she found? The 
 table was laid for tea, and an eager voice said as 
 well as it could, considering the piece of bread 
 and butter that was in the way, for Frank had 
 cut a chunk just to help him to wait, ^^I say, 
 Mother, you look tired ! I ^m doing the lion 's share 
 of the work after tea, while you rest a bit!'' 
 
 She did not know what it meant, for she had no 
 idea where Frank had called on his way home 
 from school, but when she heard him humming: 
 
 "I want to be a hero and bravely take my stand 
 Wherever duty calls me, or work awaits my hand," 
 
 she felt like joining in. 
 
 After all, I tliink the old minister was right. 
 Don't youf The hero-head is good, but the hero- 
 heart is better ! 
 
A TALE OF A TOY-SHOP 
 
 TBIS toy-shop was a favourite place. The chil- 
 dren who had plenty of pennies knew it well, 
 but those who had none seemed to know it better 
 for they would flatten their noses against the win- 
 dows, and with their grubby fingers point out the 
 toys that belonged to them! 
 
 Now in one window were two fierce-looking ani- 
 mals with brown shaggy coats. One was a bear 
 named Teddy; the other, a dog called Tubby and 
 he had great rolling eyes that made him look ^ery 
 wise. They both liked to be admired by the chil- 
 dren, but I do not think it was good for either of 
 them, for it made them rather vain and a tiny bit 
 quarrelsome. 
 
 Well, one evening, just before closing time, the 
 shopkeeper had all the things taken out, so that 
 the window could be cleaned and rearranged, and 
 the toys were laid on one of the counters. 
 
 This greatly annoyed both the bear and the 
 dog. It meant they might lose the place they had 
 enjoyed in the front of the window, and the chil- 
 dren would admire them no more. So as the rivals 
 sat there, side by side, on the counter, anyone 
 could see that trouble was brewing. 
 
 The shop was locked up, and everything was 
 
34 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 quiet for a time, until the bear said crossly, *^This 
 is all your fault!'' (You are never as cross as a 
 bear, are you?) 
 
 *^What do you meanT' asked the dog. 
 
 ^^ Well, you call yourself the friend of man, but 
 no one seems to want you or you would have been 
 sold. I don't believe you are anything of the 
 sort!" 
 
 Now if the dog had been as sensible as girls 
 and boys are when their school-mates say unkind 
 things, he would have taken no notice. At any 
 rate, he ought to have known that it takes two to 
 make a quarrel. But he was no better than the 
 bear, and he retorted, ^'I don't call myself the 
 king of the forest, anyway, like you do. Who gave 
 you the right to a name like that? Why, you 
 growl if anyone touches you ! ' ' 
 
 *'What right have I? Well, imagine that!" 
 answered the bear. ^ ' Do you know that I can climb 
 high trees, and that when I take my foes in my 
 arms they cry for mercy! Everyone is afraid of 
 me. But you — why you run after the first one that 
 whistles you. Compare your paltry paws with 
 mine ! I am king of the beasts ! " 
 
 *^0r else a beast of a king," replied the dog. 
 
 With that, the bear seized Tubby in a great 
 hug. They snapped and snarled, grunted and 
 growled, sss they struggled together upon the 
 counter, while the rest of the toys looked on with 
 scorn and amusement. 
 
 Then something happened. In their anger, both 
 animals had forgotten how narrow the counter 
 was, and suddenly they rolled over and fell down, 
 down, down, with a terrible bump to the floor. 
 
A TALE OF A TOY-SHOP 35 
 
 But that was not the worst of it. It had been 
 raining heavily that afternoon, and a lady who 
 wanted a doll for a sick child, had stood her ■um- 
 brella against that counter, so that a nice pool had 
 formed there. 
 
 The bear and the dog fell right into this with 
 a mighty splash! They were wet through, and 
 having hurt their limbs as well as their pride 
 neither felt like quarrelling any more. Teddy did 
 not look much like a king, and Tubby was not 
 the kind of friend you would have cared to own. 
 
 As they lay there, they could hear the other toys 
 talking. The sailor-boy was telling the little girl 
 doll in the pink frock what he thought. **It's a 
 pity that those who have such a good opinion of 
 themselves cannot behave like sensible mortals," 
 he said. And she laughingly replied, **0h, it is 
 always the way. Those who pretend they are 
 better than others behave worse. Teddy is a bit 
 of a beast, but Tubby ought to have known better. '' 
 
 The two culprits felt very miserable, and you 
 may be sure they were glad when morning came, 
 and the shop door opened. But when the man saw 
 Teddy and Tubby lying on the floor, looking so 
 dirty, wet, and doleful, he said angrily, *' Hello, 
 what's this? Who is going to buy these things 
 nowT' He grasped one in each hand, and turning 
 to one of his assistants, he said, *' Just put these 
 by the fire, please. We must dry them and see 
 what we can do. ' ' 
 
 After a very hot time, the two animals felt more 
 ashamed than ever. ^^This comes of boasting,'' 
 said the bear. * * Yes, ' ' replied the other, * ' but it 's 
 
36 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 all my fault. Let *s be friends again ! ^ ' And when 
 no one was looking they shook hands. 
 
 Then the shopkeeper placed them side by side 
 again, and put a ticket over their heads that pro- 
 claimed their silly conduct, for it read: 
 
 SHOP SOILED— GREATLY REDUCED. 
 
 And indeed they were. There is nothing that 
 soils the heart and reduces our happiness like ill- 
 temper, and though the two animals are good 
 friends now, each would say if you asked him : 
 
 "To folk be kind, to faults be blind, 
 And never say, Fm best 1" 
 
VI 
 
 THE A. 0. T. a 
 
 IT was one evening during the great war, that 
 just as Kenneth was going to bed, a letter 
 came, and as it was from his big brother at the 
 front, mother let him stay till it was read aloud: 
 Then he was hurried off, much against his will, 
 for it was getting late. 
 
 However, it was a good thing he had to hurry, 
 for Kenneth had only just closed his eyes when 
 the Angel of The Children came. 
 
 *'Are you reaUy the A. 0. T. C.T' Kenneth 
 asked. 
 
 **What ever is thatT' laughed the Angel. 
 
 "Why, it means the Angel of The Children, and 
 my brother always puts letters like that instead 
 of names. We have heard from him to-night, and 
 he says something about the E. A. M. C. and the 
 A. 0. T. C' 
 
 "Then I suppose I am the A. 0. T. C.,'' replied 
 his visitor. "But can you guess why I have 
 come? I would like to know what you are going 
 to be!'' 
 
 "Well, I want to be a soldier,'' said the boy. 
 
 The Angel smiled. "Just what I thought! Then 
 let us go." 
 
 They came to a lonely place among the hills, 
 
 37 
 
38 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 where a number of rough-looking men sat round 
 a fire. Kenneth had never seen anyone half as 
 fierce as they were, but he did not tell the Angel 
 that! 
 
 * ^ These, ' ' said the messenger, * ^ are the foes you 
 must fight ! Keep quiet and listen ! ' ' 
 
 A great stout man was saying, *^But IVe al- 
 ready told you, the boy is going to obey me.'' 
 
 ^^Is he?'' interrupted another, who was a most 
 disagreeable-looking fellow with limbs all twisted 
 and bent. ^ ' That lad belongs to me, so leave him 
 alone. Why, he 's been on my side for quite a long 
 time." 
 
 ^'Nonsense!" a third put in. *'You are both 
 wrong, for that particular young gentleman 
 agreed to enter my service months ago. ' ' 
 
 The last speaker was lying on the ground lazily, 
 and Kenneth noticed what an untidy, dirty fellow 
 he looked. His hair was long and matted. His 
 nails were like talons, and his clothes were all torn 
 and muddy. 
 
 As the rest of the company quarrelled over the 
 mysterious boy, the Angel beckoned him away. 
 
 **Who are those horrible men, and why have 
 I to fight them?" the boy asked as soon as they 
 were a few yards off. 
 
 ^ ^ Don 't you know ? ' ' The Angel looked troubled. 
 ' ^ That stout man is Greed ; the other, all twisted 
 and deformed, is Spite, sometimes called Old 
 Crossface; and that untidy fellow on the ground 
 is Laziness. The others are all bad habits of one 
 kind or another. You heard them claiming a 
 certain boy. The boy is you." 
 
THE A. O. T. C. 39 
 
 **I'm afraid I can never conquer them all/' 
 sighed the boy. 
 
 *' Afraid f And you a soldier? Look! the day 
 is breaking ; we must hasten. ' ' 
 
 They came to a castle which shone in the sun 
 as though it were made of gold, and the Angel 
 led the way through the gates, past the hall, up a 
 wide staircase till they paused at a door over 
 which Kenneth read: 
 
 * ^ Take unto you the whole armour of God. ' ' 
 
 It was the armoury. Here there were hundreds 
 of shields, and swords, helmets and coats of mail, 
 and the boy's eyes danced with delight when he 
 saw what the Angel was doing. 
 
 From the various shelves and racks, he was 
 taking out an equipment — a suit of armour, a hel- 
 met just the right size for a boy. And after Ken- 
 neth had donned these at the Angel's bidding, 
 the A. 0. T. C. buckled a sword round the boy's 
 waist, and put a shield in his hand. 
 
 *'I say, that's fine! Now I can fight," he ex- 
 claimed. ^ * Good-bye ! ' ' 
 
 ^^One moment!" said the Angel. *^ There is 
 something else I want to show you." 
 
 He guided the boy along the gallery where 
 countless pictures hung, and Kenneth thought he 
 would never stop, for he found it rather awkward 
 to walk in his armour. But at last, they stood 
 before a great canvas. It showed a king in golden 
 armour, mounted on a snow-white steed, and fol- 
 lowed by a number of knights clad in the same 
 way. 
 
 * * You know who that is ? " the Angel asked. * * He 
 is your Leader, and those knights who follow Him 
 
40 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 are pledged to fight against greed, ill-temper, and 
 every sinful habit. "Will you follow Him toof 
 
 Kenneth looked at the figure in silence for a 
 moment. Then drawing his sword, he saluted 
 just as he had seen the Lifeguards do. *'Yes! I 
 promise. I will try to follow Him and fight for 
 Him every day ! ' ' 
 
 And with a glad smile, the A. 0. T. C. had van- 
 ished. 
 
vn 
 
 THE FEBRUAEY FACE 
 
 HAVE you ever seen anyone with a February 
 face? What, you do not know what it is! 
 Well, in one of Shakespeare's stories, that you 
 will read when you grow older, there is a man who 
 meets another who is looking very cross, and he 
 says: 
 
 "Why, what's the matter 
 That you have such a February face, 
 So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness?" 
 
 There was once a little fellow who was travel- 
 ling to this earth. The journey was a long one. 
 It took him 31 days, and he had no idea that 
 it was so far. So you can guess that he was nearly 
 as impatient to reach his destination as you are 
 to get to the next school holiday. 
 
 When his train arrived, it was quite early in 
 the morning. In fact, it was not yet light. And he 
 was as cross as could be. I have noticed that it 
 is generally first thing in the morning, just when 
 we get up, that most of us are a little — ^never mind, 
 we will let that pass. 
 
 When the traveller came out of the station, the 
 street was deserted. The lamps blinked very 
 sleepily at him, as though they had just woke up, 
 
 41 
 
42 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 and the only person he could see was a policeman. 
 So he took his courage in both hands and went up 
 to him. 
 
 *' Excuse me, officer. Are you what they call 
 a 'speciaPr' 
 
 *^No! my little man, I'm not. Are youf he 
 added, for he was fond of a bit of fun. 
 
 ^^In a way I am. That is, I am some one of 
 special importance. And by the way, please do 
 not ^little man' me,'' replied the traveller, trying 
 to look very tall. 
 
 ^ ^ I beg your pardon, sir, ' ' said the officer, salut- 
 ing. ^ ^ Is there anything I can do T ' 
 
 **I was wondering if you had seen anyone wait- 
 ing for me — a crowd, for instance. The fact is, 
 I was expecting to be met by quite a large number 
 of friends. My brother was, I understand." 
 
 The policeman looked very thoughtful. Then 
 he said, thinking that perhaps this was some royal 
 personage, ^^Who might your brother be, sir?" 
 The policeman thought this was rather a clever 
 way of asking the traveller who he was. 
 
 ^'My brother's name is Jan. He came here 
 about a month ago, and I heard that he had a great 
 reception. Most of the town turned out to greet 
 him, and some people even stayed up half the 
 night to see him. But there's no one to meet me. 
 I think it 's a shame ! ' ' 
 
 *^Well," remarked the policeman, *^I think I 
 know who you are now. Your brother did have 
 a fair number of people to meet him. Not as 
 many as I have seen on some occasions, but don't 
 you trouble!" 
 
 *^I am not troubling," said the other, **at least, 
 
THE FEBRUARY FACE 43 
 
 not about that. But I am every bit as important 
 as be, and yet no one seems to bother about me 
 or my luggage. I '11 tell you who I am. My name 's 
 Feb Ru Ary. Ever heard of me before ? ' ' 
 
 **The name's familiar, but it sounds a bit for- 
 eign. You are not an alien, are you!" 
 
 *^ Rather not!'' replied the other angrily. 
 
 The policeman felt sorry for the lonely little 
 fellow, so he said, *'If I were you, sir, I'd just 
 wait about a bit. Perhaps somebody will turn 
 up." 
 
 While Feb. waited, he became more miserable 
 and cross than ever. I have often found that the 
 more we think about unpleasant things, the bigger 
 they seem. Soon he was sulking so much that it 
 became quite cloudy, and the more he thought of 
 his grievances, the worse he felt, till a storm 
 arose, and a chill wind with a nip of frost in it 
 swept across the sky. 
 
 Two men who were passing on their way to 
 work remarked, * ^ It 's cloudy and cold ! Well, you 
 can't expect anything better from old February, 
 can you?" 
 
 Do you know anyone with a February face? 
 Ever look in the mirror when you feel cross? I 
 know that when some people feel slighted, they 
 brood over their wrongs, instead of making the 
 best of things. So the clouds form, and the storm 
 rises, and a chill frost blights everything, and the 
 earth is sad. And it is just because like poor old 
 Feb., they 
 
 F ret about what happens, 
 
 E nvy others who seem better off, 
 
 B light everyone's happiness by getting cross. 
 
44 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 And so they get a February face. But if you want 
 to be bright and happy, then 
 
 F orget the disagreeables, 
 
 E nter into all you do — lessons or play — gladly 
 
 B anish all bitter thoughts at once. 
 
 Then your face will be bright with the happiness 
 within, and people will be glad to see you coming 
 their way. 
 
 "For every day is a fresh beginning; 
 Every mom is the world made new." 
 
vni 
 
 THE SUNBEAM 
 
 ISN'T it time we had a holiday?" asked the 
 sunbeams one morning in their home high above 
 the world. * ' We have been on duty long enough, ' ' 
 said one, **and now that the flowers are over and 
 the harvests in, I don't see why we should be 
 always at it." 
 
 *^ Quite right!" chimed in the others. **We 
 won't shine again till we feel like it. People don't 
 think enough about what we do, so let them miss 
 us awhile." 
 
 **I don't want to be disagreeable," said one little 
 beam that had been standing apart, *'but I think 
 you are wrong. People do appreciate what we do. 
 I know they are glad to see us, and if the flowers 
 are over that is all the more reason why we should 
 try to brighten up the world. No holiday for 
 me!" 
 
 *'A11 right," said the rest. '^Offyougo! We'll 
 see who has the best time." 
 
 Like an airman making for earth. Sunbeam 
 came swiftly travelling through clouds and smoke 
 till he reached a grey and gloomy city. It was 
 quite early, but the people who were going to the 
 mills seemed glad to see him, and he thought one 
 of them nodded in quite a friendly way. 
 
 45 
 
46 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 **Now that IVe come, what am I going to do 
 with myself r' thought he. *'I haven't got very- 
 long, and I want to do someone a good turn to- 
 day.'' 
 
 As he looked about, he noticed that right op- 
 posite stood a number of houses that had once 
 seen better days. The street was shabby and the 
 people that passed looked poor. 
 
 ** Wonder if there's anyone about here who 
 wants cheering up?" He peered through a win- 
 dow, and there on a wretched bed lay a little fellow 
 with such pale cheeks. Sunbeam saw that the 
 room was bare and comfortless and he felt very 
 sorry for the sick boy, so he hopped on the bed. 
 
 The little chap's face brightened up at once, 
 and they had a fine game together, for the boy's 
 wasted fingers were trying to get hold of Sun- 
 beam, as though he wanted to keep the golden bar 
 of light forever. And the beam danced and dodged 
 till the boy laughed right out at his antics. No 
 matter how swiftly the hand moved, the beam was 
 always too clever and it escaped. 
 
 At last it was time for Sunbeam to say good- 
 bye. You know, sunbeams can never stay very 
 long in the same place. But it made the beam's 
 heart glad to see the colour in the boy's thin 
 cheeks, and to hear his merry laugh. 
 
 *^Well, good-bye for the present," he said to 
 the boy. And as he got out into the street, he said 
 to himself, ' ^ That is a good beginning for my day. 
 Now I wonder what's next?" 
 
 After a time. Sunbeam found himself before a 
 lot of warehouses and offices. They looked as 
 though they had never seen the sun, for they were 
 
THE SUNBEAM 4T 
 
 so dark and grey, but that was all the more reason 
 why Sunbeam should spend a little time there if 
 he could do any good. But could he I That was- 
 the question. 
 
 Looking through a keyhole, Sunbeam saw a man 
 sitting at a desk and looking very unhappy. He 
 was resting his head on his hand, and he said to 
 himself, ^* Things seem to be going from bad to 
 worse." 
 
 Something must have been troubling him. "What 
 it was I do not know, but that was enough for 
 Sunbeam. With a bit of a wriggle, he found that 
 he could get through the keyhole, and he mounted 
 the desk, looking up into the man's face, and 
 waiting for him to notice. 
 
 **I wish I could cheer him up," said Sunbeam. 
 And just at that moment, the man opened his eyes, 
 and leaping off his stool, he said, ^'What's the use 
 of looking on the dark side like this? Why, I de- 
 clare, the sun's shining. I must pull myself to- 
 gether and have another try ! ' ' 
 
 He started hurrying about his office, and got out 
 his ledgers, while Sunbeam sat there enjoying the 
 fun. Before he left, though you will hardly be- 
 lieve it, the man was humming a tune. 
 
 ''Good turn No. 2," chuckled Sunbeam slipping 
 out into the street. * ' Say, I 'm having a great time 
 to-day! I'm jolly glad I came. What's next, I 
 wonder?" 
 
 While he was making up his mind which way to 
 go, he heard some boys shouting, and there a dog 
 came tearing along the street like mad. Its tongue 
 was hanging out, while its tail was so far between 
 its legs with fright that it was almost tripping 
 
48 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 him. And these lads were chasing him with stones 
 and shouting till he was scared out of his wits. 
 
 ^^What should be doneT' Sunbeam suddenly- 
 thought of a plan. He hid round the corner where 
 the dog had run, and just as the first boy came 
 up, out flashed the beam into his eyes. He was 
 dazzled. He stopped. The others stopped, too, 
 to see what was the matter — and the dog had got 
 away! 
 
 ** Cheerio!'* cried Sunbeam. **I never guessed 
 there was so much fun in doing good turns for peo- 
 ple. I wish I could stay here forever !*' 
 
 That was impossible. It was getting late. Peo- 
 ple were now going home from work, and Sunbeam 
 had to get back too. Yet as he danced along the 
 pavement he noticed how the tired faces lighted 
 up at the sight of him. And when he met his 
 friends after sunset he said, ^^Well, what kind of 
 a day have you all had? Vve had the time of my 
 lifeP' 
 
IX 
 
 THE QUEER COMRADE 
 
 THERE was great excitement in the city. 
 Groups of people were talking in the market- 
 place, and while the beards of the talkers wagged, 
 the eyes of the listeners opened wider and wider. 
 
 *^But I know,'' said one man. *'I saw the men 
 with my own eyes. They were measuring and 
 planning out there, and they told me that the king 
 himself was coming to live here. " 
 
 Now the king of that land had reigned long, 
 but few had seen him, for he seldom left the cap- 
 ital. So the news that he was actually coming to 
 live in this city made a great stir, and sure enough, 
 before many weeks had passed, huge wagons of 
 materials and thousands of masons, carpenters 
 and labourers arrived. 
 
 The months went by. The walls began to ap- 
 pear, and after a long time, at last the palace 
 stood complete. It was built of purest marble. 
 Its columns were of costly stone, and the gates 
 shone like gold, while the magnificent furniture 
 that came, the rich carpets from India and Persia, 
 the Arab chargers for the king, and the gold coach 
 for his use, almost took the people's breath away. 
 
 One day, the word went round that the king had 
 come. No one had seen him arrive, but a man 
 whose brother knew another man who had a friend 
 
 49 
 
50 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 at court said so, and of course, it was bound to be 
 true. But while they were talking about it, a 
 herald in gorgeous uniform rode into the square, 
 and blowing a mighty blast on his bugle, he made 
 a proclamation : 
 
 "The King has come! Long live the King! Be it 
 known unto you all that if any man has a cause to plead, 
 if he has been wronged by any, or if he has charges to 
 meet that he cannot pay, the coffers of the king are open, 
 for his heart is tender towards his people! Long live 
 the king!" 
 
 The herald rode on, but the crowd lingered dis- 
 cussing his words with eagerness. 
 
 *^What does it mean? It can't be true,'' said 
 they. * * No king ever did that. ' ' 
 
 Some of them clustered about the palace rail- 
 ings to see if anyone went in, but not a single man 
 took the king at his word, and all the time the 
 sovereign sat, solitary and sad, in his new home. 
 
 It was soon after all this that a stranger ap- 
 peared in the city. The workmen were still build- 
 ing houses for the courtiers, so the stranger got 
 work as a labourer. He had to carry bricks and 
 mortar up long ladders, and though it was hard 
 work and the day was long, yet he kept at it, and 
 because he was so cheery, everyone liked him 
 immensely. 
 
 When the buildings were finished, the stranger 
 got work in the kitchens of the barracks. The 
 task he had there was anything but pleasant but 
 Jie did not seem to mind, and often enough, when 
 the soldiers of the king's bodyguard came off duty, 
 ithey would sit and chat with the stranger while he 
 
THE QUEER COMRADE 51 
 
 scoured the greasy pans. In fact, it was the sol- 
 diers who gave him his nickname, as soldiers do. 
 When they saw him busy with his pots and pans, 
 and heard him singing at his work, they called 
 him **The Queer Comrade." 
 
 His work done for the day, there was nothing 
 the stranger liked better than to play with the 
 children. He would hoist the little ones on his 
 back and be their horse or their camel, whichever 
 they liked, and of course, while folk thought him 
 very strange they could not help but admire his 
 kind ways and his happy smile. 
 
 The poor travellers who stayed for a night or 
 so in the shabby part of the town where the 
 stranger lived, said he was ^^one of the best." 
 You can guess why. He was very handy with his 
 fingers, and he would help to mend their shoes or 
 patch a torn garment, while if a homeless one 
 were in trouble, the stranger was always the first 
 to sympathise, for he was homeless too. But why? 
 Who was he ? That was the very question people 
 were asking. 
 
 **I say, who are youT' asked a man one night, 
 for he fancied that the stranger had once been 
 better off. 
 
 The other only laughed and said, **Well, they 
 call me ^The Queer Comrade'." 
 
 Time went on. The stranger disappeared as 
 quietly as he came, and the gossips were now say- 
 ing : * * That stranger, * The Queer Comrade, ' is not 
 a poor labourer after all ! It is the king himself. " 
 
 Because the people would not go to him with 
 their troubles, feeling afraid of his royal state,, 
 he had come to them. His love was too great for 
 
52 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 tlie palace walls to shut in, and so he had lived 
 among them to show them how dear they were to 
 his heart. So from that time forth, everyone 
 learned to love and trust the king even though he 
 was unlike any other monarch who had ever 
 reigned. 
 Can you guess his name? Was it Christ! 
 
X 
 
 THE FAIRIES IN THE FIRE 
 
 YOU have often seen the fairies in the fire? 
 I thought so ! But there was once a man who 
 did not believe in them at all, nor in all the noble 
 and beautiful things that are in the world if only 
 we look for them. 
 
 He sat by the fire one night, feeling very tired 
 and lonely. And as he looked into the glowing 
 coals, some of the old stories his mother used to 
 tell him about the strange elves in the fire came 
 back to him. 
 
 ''Ah, well!'* he sighed; ''that was a long time 
 ago! There are no such things as fairies now!" 
 
 "Aren't there?'' asked a merry little voice. 
 And the jolliest fellow he had ever seen jumped 
 right out of the fire. 
 
 He was all red. He had red hair, red cheeks, 
 red hands, and a suit of the ruddiest hue. And 
 standing between the poker and the tongs, he 
 looked roguishly up into the man's face. 
 
 "You do look down,'' remarked the fairy after 
 a moment or two. 
 
 "Of course ! I had to, or I wouldn't have seen 
 you." 
 
 "I didn't mean that," answered the little chap. 
 "You look unhappy, kind of miserable. Seeing 
 me hasn't done it, has it? I don't look sad." 
 
 53 
 
64f PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 '*No," said the man, smiling in spite of him- 
 self. * *I can 't say you look sad. On the contrary, 
 you look rather merry and — ^bright!*' 
 
 * * Splendid ! ' ' cried the fairy, clapping his hands 
 with delight, *^ You have got it first time. That's 
 my name ! * ' 
 
 * ^ Your name — ^what is f I don 't even know what 
 you are ! ' ' 
 
 **Why, Merrion Brite is my name — at your 
 service! When you said just now that we didn^t 
 exist, I thought I would just come and show you 
 that you are quite wrong. I am one of the fairies 
 in the fire!" 
 
 **I shouldn't have believed it,*' said the man, 
 looking very puzzled. **In fact, I do not believe 
 it even now. Probably you are only a bit of 
 fancy. ' ' 
 
 **Well, I am a bit fancy; at least, my suit is. 
 Do you like it r' 
 
 **It's very grand. Your best suit, I supposed' 
 
 *'0h no! These are my working clothes.'' 
 
 **But I didn't know that fairies did any work," 
 said the man, getting quite interested. 
 
 ** Don't they! My word, the fairies in the fire 
 do." 
 
 **You surprise me. Won't you tell me some- 
 thing more about yourself and the kind of work 
 you have to do?" 
 
 The fairy looked quite pleased as he settled him- 
 self on the top bar, and clearing his throat just 
 like elderly gentlemen do, he began: *'Well, it's 
 not what you'd call an easy life. People always 
 expect us to be bright and cheerful, and I think 
 they sometimes put too much on us. . . ." 
 
THE FAIRIES IN THE FIRE 55 
 
 **I'm afraid I don't understand, ' ' interrupted 
 the man. *^How do they put too much on you?" 
 
 '^It's like this. Once a fire is lighted, you know, 
 we set to work and no sooner have we got it nice 
 and ruddy, when someone will come in and put 
 another shovelful of coal on, and say, *Now do 
 hurry and burn up! It's bitterly cold to-day.' 
 So we have to start again on that black, sizzling 
 coal, and change it from dark to bright, from cold 
 to hot, till instead of being wrapped up in itself, 
 it gives out its light and warmth to others. You 
 know what coal is, don't you I" 
 
 The man nodded, so Merrion went on: 
 
 ^*It has sunshine and heat locked up in its heart 
 you know. Well, we work on its feelings till it 
 unlocks its treasures and lets the sunshine out. 
 Of course, it may sulk a bit at first, and look very 
 black about it, but we generally manage to warm 
 things up. 
 
 ^^That isn't all. We arrange beautiful land- 
 scapes and splendid castles to please the children. 
 No, of course, they cannot go to them, but you 
 must have seen little folk sit on the rug after tea, 
 before the lights are on, and admire our work? 
 I have, many a time. We can hear them say, 
 * Look, there it is ! A great palace ! And see that 
 bright gate? That is where the Fairy Queen has 
 just gone in. Aren't those mountains fine?' 
 
 ^^I say! it's worth all the trouble we take just 
 to see their bright faces, and to hear them laugh." 
 
 ' ' Yes, ' ' said the man, * ^ I should think it is. And 
 I suppose there is quite a lot of you?" 
 
 *' Rather! We are a mighty nation, and the 
 world couldn't get on without us. Some of us 
 
56 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 work on the great steamships, others drive the 
 railway engines, and some are busy in all your fac- 
 tories, while there is quite a large number of us 
 who live in houses like yours. Wherever we get 
 a chance, we are always busy giving back comfort 
 and cheer for all the black things people heap on 
 us!'' 
 
 *^That is returning good for evil," mused the 
 man. 
 
 Just then, there was a tiny spurt of flame. The 
 fairy had disappeared. But as the man sat there 
 he said to himself, ''So that's how it is! The 
 fairies take all the hard and gloomy things that 
 come their way, and do their level best to make 
 someone else happy. I like that. It only needs 
 a bit of an effort when things are not to one's 
 liking to make the best of them. I must try to 
 be merry and bright ! ' ' 
 
 The fire crackled, and the man could have de- 
 clared that he heard tiny hands clapping, and a 
 little voice cry, ''Bravo! just try it!" 
 
XI 
 
 THE PIRATES 
 
 ONE dark night, the Angel that sees to things 
 called on the wise man. But it was late. 
 The man was fast asleep, so the Angel had to wake 
 him. 
 
 * ^ Dear me ! What a start yon gave me. What 's 
 the matter 1 Is the house on fire T ' he asked sleep- 
 
 iiy. 
 
 '^No,'' said the Angel, *^the house is all right. 
 It is something I want the children to know about, 
 and they will listen to you for they love you well." 
 
 **But who are you?'' he asked. 
 
 **0h, I am only an angel,'' was the reply. **Come 
 with me ! ' ' 
 
 The Angel took the man's hand, guiding him 
 down a long narrow passage somewhere near the 
 seashore, and soon they stood in a room that 
 looked as though it had been cut out of the solid 
 rock. And around a big table, lighted by candles 
 stuck in bottles, sat the fiercest-looking lot of men 
 the sage had ever seen. 
 
 Their faces were weather-beaten and grim, and 
 each man wore a strange design on his breast that 
 looked like two bones with something oval in the 
 middle. And to make matters worse, their belts 
 were full of knives and pistols. 
 
 It may have been the knives or possibly the 
 
 57 
 
58 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 bones that reminded him of something, for the old 
 man turned to the Angel and whispered, **If you 
 don't mind, I think I'll just slip back home for a 
 minute. I'm not sure if I gave my dog his sup- 
 per/' 
 
 * ^ You cannot go now. You should have thought 
 about that before. Don't you know where we 
 are?" 
 
 The man, forgetting manners for a moment, 
 shook his head. 
 
 **We are in the pirates' den!'' the Angel an- 
 swered. 
 
 That seemed to make the man more anxious 
 than ever to see about his dog's supper. It surely 
 couldn't be that he was afraid! But the Ajigel 
 took his hand, and that reassured him, so he lis- 
 tened to what was going on. 
 
 The pirate chief was talking to his men, and 
 when he laughed, all the shadows seemed to share 
 in it till the whole cave was full of laughing voices. 
 
 * * Now, my hearties ! Let us hear what you have 
 taken on this last cruise," he said, looking into the 
 faces of his company. ^ 'Who's first?" 
 
 **Well, Cap'n," began one man, '^we saw a trim 
 little craft sailing along, so we boarded her, and a 
 fine cargo she had." 
 
 The pirate chief smiled. * * What was it ? " 
 
 '* Pearls, Cap'n, pearls! So we took them and 
 sank the ship ! ' ' 
 
 ^^Good!" replied the chief — though of course, 
 he meant it was very bad. '^Now, No. 2, what 
 have you to report?" 
 
 The man addressed told how he had taken a 
 vessel laden with cases labelled, **Things-at- 
 
THE PIRATES 69 
 
 tempted.'^ The next said he had captured a 
 cargo marked, ^*Things-as-they-are.*' While a 
 fourth said, ^ * Cap 'n, mine 's a queer capture. The 
 ship I got was laden with Smiles and Kind Words ; 
 you 'd better have a look at that lot in daylight ! ' ' 
 
 The pirate chief laughed again, this time so 
 heartily that his yellow teeth made the wise man 
 think that it was a pity he was not as careful as 
 the girls and boys he knew, who cleaned theirs 
 every day. 
 
 ^^YouVe done well,'' said the Captain. **You 
 couldn't have done better if I'd been with you, 
 but these rheumatics. ..." 
 
 Just then the Angel led the old man out. **I 
 have been thinking of that dog of yours. You 
 had better get back; I can't bear to think of the 
 poor animal being hungry. ' ' 
 
 But the man said, ' * Oh, he '11 be all right for a 
 few minutes more. The fact is, I felt just a little 
 er — afraid of those men. But these ships — I never 
 heard of cargoes like those. What did they 
 mean?" 
 
 ' ' That is just what I wanted to explain. We can 
 talk it over as we walk back. Every boy and girl, 
 and every grown-up too, for that matter, has ships 
 at sea. You remember the first one, laden with 
 pearls? Each hour is a pearl, and it meant that 
 Time had been lost by somebody. 
 
 ''Another pirate captured that splendid cargo 
 of Things-attempted. Someone had given up 
 trying to do the lessons that seemed hard. The 
 third had a load of Things-as-they-are, meaning 
 that somebody had parted with Truth. And the 
 last had taken Smiles and Kind Words — you 
 
60 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 can gness that means a lost temper somewhere! 
 
 *^ These are the most precious cargoes a ship 
 can carry — Time, Trying, Truth, and Temper. 
 And when a pirate captures these, it is a serious 
 loss both to the owner and to the world.'* 
 
 ^*I think I understand," said the man, **but will 
 the little folks T' 
 
 * * Certainly, if you tell them that the pirate who 
 captures time is Laziness; the one who steals 
 Things-attempted is Carelessness ; while the other 
 two are Falsehood and Crossness. But if the 
 ships had only run up their own flag when the 
 pirates attacked — the flag of Resolve — they would 
 have been safe. Now I think you had better hurry 
 back; your dog will be ravenous !'' 
 
 And so that he would be sure to remember, the 
 wise man kept saying to himself : 
 
 Time is stolen by Laziness 
 Trying is stolen by Carelessness 
 Truth is stolen by Falsehood 
 Temper is stolen by Crossness. 
 
xn 
 
 FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH 
 
 LUCIUS was a young soldier in the army of 
 ancient Rome, and he was so handsome and 
 brave that when he strode along the streets, people 
 would turn to look a second time. This may have 
 been because he was so splendidly clad, for his 
 coat of mail, with the burnished breastplate and 
 shining helmet with its nodding plume, gleamed 
 like gold in the sunshine. But more probably it 
 was because he walked with head erect and chest 
 out, instead of lounging along like some children 
 do, although father is always telling them to 
 straighten up. 
 
 The officer, Claudian, who commanded Lucius 's 
 legion, was very proud of this fine soldier. He had 
 noticed how obliging and obedient Lucius was, for 
 he never needed telling twice to do a thing, and 
 what is more, he did it with such a happy face 
 that the officer promised to promote him. 
 
 About this time, the day came round when all 
 the garrisons in different parts of the empire were 
 rearranged. Legions were drafted from one 
 place to another, and every soldier was eager to 
 know just where he would be sent. And Lucius^ 
 with the promise of promotion in his mind, was 
 full of hope that he would get a chance of showing 
 
 61 
 
62 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 his devotion and courage. Where would his legion 
 go? To Gaul? That was his dearest wish. 
 
 There was a great war raging in Gaul, and that 
 was why Lucius thought he stood a chance of doing 
 something heroic and great, but to his disappoint- 
 ment, when the lists were issued, he found that 
 instead of being drafted there, or to some of the 
 distant parts of the empire, his legion had been 
 told off for garrison duty in Italy. 
 
 As he was returning to his quarters, feeling 
 very depressed, whom should he meet but his 
 officer, Claudian. The young soldier saluted, but 
 the other stopped and said, with a smile : 
 
 *'How fares it with thee? And why art thou 
 so sad of face?'' 
 
 *'Well, sir,'' replied Lucius, ^*I have just seen 
 the lists and I hoped we were thought brave 
 enough to be sent to the wars.'' 
 
 **Yea, and so hoped I, for I am disappointed 
 even as thou. ' ' 
 
 ''But could we not appeal to the Senate, sir, and 
 crave permission to go? I would like to show 
 myself a man." 
 
 '*No," replied Claudius. ''What Caesar wills 
 must be obeyed. And where he sends us we must 
 prove our loyalty and our courage." 
 
 There was nothing more to be said, and shortly 
 afterwards, the legion found itself in the city of 
 Herculaneum. 
 
 That very year — it was A.D. 79 — there was a 
 fearful eruption. The volcano suddenly belched 
 forth its fiery lava, and the molten mass swept 
 down upon the city. The alarm was given. 
 Crowds of people fled for their lives along the 
 
FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH 63 
 
 roads leading to the countryside, while others, 
 stricken with fear, hid in their houses hoping they 
 might be safe. 
 
 Lucius was on guard at one of the gates. It 
 would be another three hours before he went off 
 duty, and as he looked first at the flaming crater 
 of the volcano and then at the people surging past 
 him, he wondered what to do. The ground shook 
 under his feet. Buildings were toppling in ruin 
 about him. Should he flee like the rest, or stay 
 there at his post? 
 
 Then he recalled swiftly how he had longed to 
 show his devotion and bravery, and the words of 
 his officer came back : ' ' Where Cassar sends us we 
 must prove our loyalty and courage.^' He could 
 still show the kind of man he was ! And so, be- 
 cause he had been set to guard that gate, he re- 
 mained true to his trust. He was faithful unto 
 death ! 
 
 Centuries have passed. But a few years ago, 
 some very clever men were digging amid the ruins 
 of that buried city. They had unearthed part of 
 the walls, and in an archway, they discovered the 
 remains of a Eoman sentry. He was still at his 
 post, and the price of his fidelity had been his life. 
 You will remember that Christ said, '^He that is 
 faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in 
 much. ' ' 
 
 It is the little duty done well, the unimportant 
 service we are called to render, that test our cour- 
 age and show our steadfastness, and just as this 
 soldier proved his grit and devotion to his emperor 
 in doing his duty faithfully, so in the life we live 
 at home, at school, at play, can we honour Christ. 
 
xin 
 
 MOURNFUL MAX, THE MISER 
 
 THAT was not his real name, nor was it his only 
 name, for sometimes, just for a change, peo- 
 ple called him. Miserly Max, the mournful. But 
 if there was anything in either name, he could not 
 have been a very nice man to live with. However, 
 that did not matter very much, for he lived alone, 
 and his home was in a little old-fashioned town 
 where everyone knew everyone else, and every- 
 thing about each other's affairs. 
 
 They, used to gossip about Max. Some said he 
 was very rich, but miserly, while others asked how 
 he could be rich when he was so miserable, for they 
 thought that wealth and happiness would be sure 
 to go hand in hand. 
 
 Now Max used to see the folk talking together 
 as he passed by and he had a good idea that they 
 were discussing him. For one thing, no one 
 seemed to want anything to do with him. They 
 would look the other way when they saw him com- 
 ing, and if by any chance he overtook them going 
 to market, they tried to avoid him. 
 
 This made him more mournful than ever and 
 more miserly, and he would go back to his solitary 
 house, soured and sad. He had thought once that 
 he would have a dog or a cat just to keep him com- 
 
 64 
 
MOURNFUL MAX, THE MISER 65 
 
 pany, but animals need food, and food costs 
 money — though that is no reason why you should 
 forget to feed your rabbits, or give a few crumbs 
 to the birds. So Max had to find another means 
 of comforting himself. He turned to the only 
 thing he loved. His gold 1 No, he hadn 't any gold. 
 It was too scarce to be his idol, so he had all his 
 money changed into silver, so that it looked more. 
 
 Well, when he was quite sure the shutters were 
 fast and the door bolted. Max would take out a bag 
 of silver. He had several, though he never allowed 
 himself to see them all at once. That might have 
 made him feel happy, miser as he was, and he liked 
 to be miserable because it is cheaper to be unhappy 
 than to be glad ; at least for anyone like him, it was 
 easier. So he would open the bag, and carefully 
 count the coins. Perhaps he hoped that they might 
 have increased since he last looked at them, but 
 when he discovered that there was a coin missing, 
 then he would get very cross and unhappy, and 
 wonder what had become of it. The only thing 
 to do was to count through the whole lot again, 
 and when he found he had made a mistake, he 
 would be so happy that he would have to put the 
 bag under the floor again, so that he might resume 
 his miserable feeling. 
 
 '*Now it's gone! It's out of sight. Just what 
 it would be if anyone robbed me ! Suppose they 
 did ! Hello, what 's that 1 ' ' 
 
 It was raining heavily, and the wind was 
 howling about the house, but this was another 
 kind of noise. It was a tap, tap, tapping, at the 
 window, and Max's knees smote together. ^'It's 
 thieves," he moaned. "I knew they would come 
 
66 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 sooner or later. Whatever shall I do?'^ Then it 
 occurred to him that robbers would hardly tap at 
 the window to attract attention. Then perhaps 
 it was someone who wanted to borrow some- 
 thing! That was nearly as bad. Just then the 
 knocking sounded on the door, and a child ^s voice 
 seemed to be calling his name. He opened the 
 door, and he could just discern the face of a little 
 boy^ drenched with the pelting rain. 
 
 /^Please, Mr. Max, I'm so wet and tired. Will 
 you let me come in for a bit? I'd lost my way 
 till I saw your light. I won't ask for anything !'' 
 
 The artful little fellow might have known that 
 was sure to gain him admittance, for now that 
 Max knew that it wasn't thieves, and that no one 
 wanted to borrow anything, he was willing enough 
 to let the boy shelter. Strange to say, he felt 
 just a bit sorry for the boy, and taking off his 
 wet clothes, Max wrapped him in a rug, and set 
 him before the fire, while the storm grew worse 
 and worse. 
 
 ^*I'd let you stay the night only your mother 
 might think. ..." 
 
 *^0h, she won't mind. She'll think I'm at 
 Grannie's. I stay there sometimes, you know." 
 
 Max did not know, but he thought the wisest 
 thing to do would be just to nod his head, and the 
 boy chattered on. He told him all about his 
 school, and how kind the old master who taught 
 them was so that everyone loved him. ^'He lets 
 us come to his house, if we like, and he tells us 
 some fine tales. And do you know what he does? 
 He dresses up. Yes, dresses up like a carrier, 
 and when he hears about someone sick or too 
 
MOURNFUL MAX, THE MISER 67 
 
 poor to get the comforts lie needs, he goes round 
 to the house, when it's dark, and he'll say, *A 
 parcel for you, ma'am,' and although he will 
 speak in the gruffest voice, the folk all know him, 
 and they'll laugh and say, ^Why, if it isn't dear 
 old Dominie.' Perhaps it's a parcel of clothes 
 for a little child, or something nice for one of the 
 old people. But, isn't he great, Mr. Max?" 
 
 This was quite a long speech for the boy, but 
 Max had listened, and he said, ^^Does he seem 
 to enjoy playing tricks like these?" 
 
 ^^ Enjoy it! Eather! You should see his eyes 
 twinkle when he tells the boys how much pleasure 
 there is in doing a good turn for people." 
 
 When Max got the boy to sleep, it was very 
 late, but he sat down thinking over what he had 
 heard. *^How happy this schoolmaster must be, 
 and how people love him. Yet they call me 
 mournful Max. He can't be as well-off as I am. 
 I know he isn't! Well, I'll see into this to- 
 morrow." 
 
 What had happened to Max! It was as though 
 something had awakened in his heart, and 
 when he sent the boy off next morning, after a 
 really good breakfast, he gave him a small but 
 heavy packet to give to his mother, while one of 
 the bags of silver looked decidedly thinner than 
 it had done the previous evening. Then Max set 
 out for the schoolmaster's. 
 
 ''Yes; I suppose there is something in it, but 
 I don't like to think that anyone has been telling 
 tales out of school," said the old Dominie in reply 
 to Max's questions. *'What makes me do it? 
 Why, Max, you are not thinking of acting in that 
 
68 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 way, are you? I always understood you were a 
 mi '' 
 
 ** Don't, please!'' said Max, raising his hand. 
 **I want to be different. Tell me your secret — 
 why you take such pleasure in people." 
 
 The master led the way into his book-lined 
 room, and pointing to a motto on the wall, he said, 
 ** There's the secret. I don't know who wrote 
 those words, but they have meant a good deal 
 to me." 
 
 Max put his spectacles on, and with difficulty 
 spelled out : 
 
 J esus first 
 thers next 
 Y ourself last 
 
 * * That makes you kind ; but what makes you so 
 happy!" asked Max. 
 
 **That is there too ! Don't you see that the first 
 letters spell JOY?" And as Max read the motto 
 again, he saw that the Dominie was right. Mourn- 
 ful Max is now no more. He spends his life in 
 helping other folk, and what do you think his 
 name is now? 
 
XIV 
 LADIES FIKST 
 
 THE boy's parents were sad. But the king's 
 orders had to be obeyed, and so they sent 
 their child away. It came to pass, however, that 
 a princess fell in love with the boy, and taking 
 him back to her palace, she made him a. prince. 
 There he had a splendid time. She gave him fine 
 clothes to wear. He had servants to do his light- 
 est bidding. And when he felt hungry, there 
 were dainty dishes set before him that he might 
 be satisfied. He must have been happy as the 
 day was long! 
 
 That is just where we often make a mistake. It 
 does not follow that if we lived in a palace and 
 had everything that heart could wish, that we 
 would be a bit happier than we could be now if 
 we tried. 
 
 The years passed very pleasantly and swiftly 
 for the prince, and he grew up. He was rather 
 tired of the palace, and having the servants 
 pampering him as though he were still a child, 
 but something occurred that made him want to 
 get away from it all. 
 
 One day he was out for a walk and there he 
 came upon one of the king's officers, beating a 
 poor fellow for something he had done, or per- 
 haps had not done. He was one of the people to 
 whom the prince really belonged, and unable to 
 
70 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 restrain himself, the prince dashed up and 
 knocked the man's tormentor to the ground. 
 
 This was a serious thing to do, for someone 
 might report it to the king. But in any case, the 
 prince felt that he could not live in idleness any 
 more, so he got some peasant's clothes and steal- 
 ing off from the palace, he made for a distant 
 place in the country where he thought he might 
 be able to get work. 
 
 It is not clothes that make a noble man, and 
 although he did not now look like a prince, he 
 remained one at heart. This will prove it. 
 
 As he got farther away from the city, the road 
 got very dry and dusty, and being more accus- 
 tomed to riding in a royal chariot than trudging 
 afoot, the prince got very tired. Besides, the sun 
 was beating down on his head, and he felt he 
 could not go another step, so he sat by a wayside 
 well. 
 
 While he was wondering how much farther he 
 had to go, some shepherd girls came up with their 
 flock, and while the sheep were baa-ing as hard 
 as they could, the girls started to draw water 
 from the well, filling the troughs for the sheep to 
 drink. It was hard work and hot work too, but 
 they did not mind so long as the sheep got the 
 cool water. 
 
 That reminds me : have you given your canary 
 fresh water to-day? And did you see that your 
 cat had a nice drink of milk I You know that our 
 dumb friends are dependent on us, and we must 
 always think of them. And a few crumbs for the 
 birds outside are always welcome. 
 
 However, just as the troughs were filled, up 
 
LADIES FIRST 71 
 
 came a group of men with another flock of sheep. 
 ^^Good idea!'' said the shepherds ''No need to 
 draw water to-day; they have done it for us. 
 Here ! drive those sheep back and let ours drink ! ' ' 
 
 They were starting to chase the frightened 
 flock away when up sprang the young prince. His 
 eyes were flashing and his hands were clenched. 
 He pushed the rude fellows aside and said, 
 ''Ladies first!'' — or something that meant the 
 same thing. 
 
 The boys will agree that it was a princely thing 
 for him to act like that. Then why don't you 
 do it? It does not mean fighting — except against 
 selfishness, but this is what it does mean : Do you 
 offer your seat to a lady or stand aside to let one 
 pass, or try to be of service in some way? It 
 applies to mother and your sisters as well as to 
 strangers. 
 
 You will remember that when the troopship 
 Birkenhead was sinking the soldiers stood on 
 deck as though on the parade-ground while the 
 sailors put the women and children into the few 
 boats they had. Their motto was, ' ' Ladies first ! ' ' 
 and we think with pride of those splendid men 
 who thus showed true courage and real courtesy. 
 
 But the motto is for the girls as well as the 
 boys. Their resolve must be "Ladies first!" 
 That means they must be ladies before anything 
 else — too polite to act thoughtlessly or speak 
 crossly; too ladylike to be anything but gracious 
 and kind. 
 
 Who was the prince? Why, you have guessed 
 his name long ago. He was Moses, and the 
 maidens were the daughters of Midian's priest. 
 
XV 
 
 THE QUICKENINa KISS 
 
 /^NCE upon a time, in a quiet glade, lay a 
 ^-^ princess fast asleep. She was fair and 
 lovely to look upon, and the courtiers round about 
 her could not but admire her. But there was one 
 thing they could not do ; they could not wake her 
 from her sleep. 
 
 ^'We cannot let her stay here,'' said one. 
 ''What will the king say!'' But they looked the 
 more puzzled, for this princess was like someone 
 I know, who never wants to get up, no matter how 
 often he is called. 
 
 ' 'Let me try, ' ' the Lightning said. So he flashed 
 his bright light in her face. She did not move. 
 In fact, one would hardly have known that she 
 was alive but for the rising and falling of her 
 bosom. 
 
 "I think I can do it," remarked the Thunder, 
 pushing to the front. "Now give me a chance." 
 He growled his loudest. Then with a mighty 
 whoop he returned to see if she was awake, for he 
 was sure that no one could sleep through a noise 
 like that. But to his astonishment, and indeed to 
 that of the other courtiers, she did not stir. 
 
 The Wind cut in just here and said, ' ' Let me see 
 what I can do." So he whistled gently, as much 
 like a blackbird as he could. Then he howled like 
 
 72 
 
THE QUICKENING KISS T3 
 
 a creature in pain. ^^Well, we'll have to blovv^ her 
 up ! ' ' he said, and holding his breath for a mo- 
 ment, he then blew his hardest, but he was no 
 more successful than the others. 
 
 The Hailstones took their turn. / They pat- 
 tered on the ground all round the princess ; then, 
 growing bolder, they even flicked her face with 
 their sharp lash. But that did not wake her! 
 
 The courtiers had been looking on in wonder, 
 but when they saw that nothing would wake their 
 princess, they were alarmed. ^^Is there anything 
 else we can do T ' said one. * ' We cannot leave her 
 like this. If she doesn't wake soon, she will die, 
 and who dare face the king then ! ' ' 
 
 ** Perhaps we ought to go for him,'' replied an- 
 other, '^but I have heard that sprinkling water on 
 people who will not wake sometimes helps. Let us 
 ask sister Rain." 
 
 The Rain came, and from her silver pitcher she 
 shook tiny drops of water that fell like diamonds 
 upon the sleeping maiden. And as they fell, she 
 moved slightly in her sleep, and her lips opened 
 in a fleeting smile. 
 
 ^'Splendid!" cried all the courtiers. *'That is 
 doing it ! Keep on ! " 
 
 But just then, the Prince of the Sunlit Land 
 stepped through a rift in the clouds, and seeing 
 the group of courtiers standing together he said, 
 *^What mean you standing idly here! There is 
 much to do, and time is all too short for us all." 
 
 *'May it please your highness," said one, **we 
 are not idle. Our princess lies here in' a deep 
 sleep, and we fear the anger of our king if we 
 leave her thus, but wake her we cannot ! ' ' 
 
74 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 ** Princess r* As the courtiers parted to make 
 way, the prince saw the most beauteous maiden 
 he had ever looked upon, for the smile that 
 greeted the Rain's message had returned. **How 
 fair she is. The like of her I have never seen be- 
 fore.'* And kneeling by her side, the prince 
 pressed his lips to her brow. 
 
 How it came about, I cannot tell you, but at 
 that instant the princess opened her eyes, and 
 instead of being afraid at the sight of the strange 
 prince, she smiled saying, **0h, I have had such 
 a strange dream. I seemed to see a bright light 
 flashing, and heard awful voices round about me. 
 Then someone threw sharp stones at me, and eerie 
 sounds seemed to come out of the night till I was 
 afraid for my life. But it was only a dream. I 
 am so glad you woke me up!'' 
 
 She held out her hand to the prince, and as he 
 helped her to her feet she laughed gaily. **I am 
 wide awake now ! I do not know what you did to 
 rouse me, but thank you very much ! I must get 
 back to the palace. My father will think I am 
 lost, and I have so much to do." 
 
 The prince took her hand in farewell. Then he 
 said, ^^I will come to the palace of your father, 
 for I have something I want him to give to me. 
 Can you guess what it is?" 
 
 The lady blushed and shook her head, but I 
 think she knew what the prince meant. And so 
 the whole party, courtiers as well, wended their 
 way back to the king. And though the Prince of 
 the Sunlit Land had succeeded where they had 
 failed, they did not mind in the least, so long as 
 
THE QUICKENING KISS 75 
 
 their happy smiling princess was awake once 
 more. 
 
 You have guessed what the story means? The 
 princess is the earth, locked in her winter sleep. 
 The flashing lightning, the noisy thunder and the 
 blustering wind, had failed to wake her just as the 
 pattering hail, for gentleness is more powerful 
 than roughness. But though the sweet rain had 
 made her stir, it needed the warm kiss of the sun 
 to bring her fully back to herself, radiantly fair. 
 
 Try what you can do for those about you. 
 Scolding and crossness will not make anyone any 
 better, but the warm kiss of kindness and thought- 
 fulness will work wonders. 
 
XVI 
 
 THE HOLY GRAIL 
 
 THERE is an old legend that says that the cup 
 from which Jesus drank at the Last Supper 
 was brought by a pious man to Britain. Those 
 who had the care of it were to be pure and good, 
 but one man forgot his vows, and the result was, 
 the cup vanished just as all our blessings do when 
 we do what is wrong. 
 
 Now there was a young knight named Sir Laun- 
 fal who resolved to go in search of this cup, and 
 he vowed that he would not return until he had 
 found it. So he called for his armour and his 
 sword. He mounted his charger. The great draw- 
 bridge was lowered with many a creak and groan 
 and he clattered out of his castle. 
 
 As he rode out, however, he thought he heard 
 a voice. He looked about, and there, crouching by 
 the castle gate was a poor leprous beggar, who 
 held out his hand, and asked for alms. 
 
 The proud young knight was very angry that 
 such a fellow should dare speak to him, but he 
 took a gold piece from his purse, and flung it to 
 the beggar. It lay where it fell, and the man 
 looking up at the handsome face of the other said : 
 ^'He gives nothing but worthless gold who gives 
 from a sense of duty." 
 
 76 
 
THE HOLY GRAIL 77 
 
 Sir Launfal rode on. Summer faded into 
 autumn, and one year followed another, but no 
 trace of the cup could he find. No one seemed to 
 have heard of it. Of course, he had set out in a 
 bad temper, and everything goes wrong then! 
 Yet having vowed that he would never return 
 without the cup, he kept on, ever seeking but never 
 finding. 
 
 Many years had passed. The knight was no 
 longer young, and he had parted with his horse, 
 then with his armour in order to get food. And 
 at last, weary of his quest, poor and homeless, 
 he gave up and came back to find that people had 
 long thought him dead, and another had taken his 
 place. What should he do? 
 
 He sat down by the gate to think. Suddenly he 
 heard a voice. It was the same voice that had 
 called to him that day when he first rode forth 
 so proudly. He remembered it well! 
 
 He looked about, and though it was getting 
 dark, he espied not far away, the very beggar to 
 whom he had flung the money, but now the poor 
 fellow looked more pitiable than ever. 
 
 Possibly the knight remembered how Jesus had 
 once healed a leper like this man, for he walked 
 over to him and said, 
 
 *'I behold in thee an image of Him that died 
 on the tree,'' and taking out the last piece of 
 coarse, brown bread he had left, he gave it to the 
 beggar. 
 
 There was a wooden bowl lying on the ground, 
 so Sir Launfal took it, and breaking the ice of 
 the stream, he filled the bowl and held the water 
 to the leper's parched lips. 
 
78 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 It was then that the wonder took place. The 
 bread changed from brown to white. The water 
 in the bowl turned to red wine, and even the bowl 
 itself became a glorious vessel of gold. 
 
 Nor was that all. Instead of a loathsome leper, 
 there sat Christ, looking into Sir Launfal's face, 
 and with a smile He said : 
 
 ^ ^ The Holy Supper is kept indeed in whatso we 
 share with another's need. Who gives himself 
 with his alms feeds three : himself, his hungering 
 neighbour, and Me.'' 
 
 The knight had ridden far and had wandered 
 over the wide world to show his love to his Mas- 
 ter, yet all the time, the chance of doing Him serv- 
 ice and proving his devotion lay at his very door. 
 
XVII 
 THE EIVER AND THE POOL 
 
 THE snow had been melting on the mountains, 
 and two little streamlets were born both on 
 the same spring day. They were quite near to 
 each other, in fact, they were within speaking dis- 
 tance, and as they flowed down the mountain side, 
 one noticed that the other was moving much faster 
 than she. 
 
 **You seem in a hurry, little sister,'' she called 
 out. '^ Where are you going?" 
 
 **I want to get down to the meadows where the 
 daisies and the buttercups will soon be growing. 
 I heard a bird say that they are always glad to see 
 a stream, and down there, the lambs are frisking 
 about, and everything is as happy as the day is 
 long. That is why I am hurrying. ' ' 
 
 The other pouted. '* You are very foolish,'' she 
 said. ^'I heard what the bird told you, but I'm 
 going to take things easily. It's nice and quiet up 
 here, and you never know what may happen down 
 in the valley. Grubby children may come and 
 stand in you, or perhaps some cattle will come and 
 drink you dry, then where will you be? I'm not 
 running any risks. What is the use? Besides, 
 there's plenty of time, and I'm going to think of 
 myself while I can." And she did! But when 
 
 79 
 
80 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 she saw that the other stream was still running 
 along as fast as ever, she called, *'Well, good-bye! 
 You're very silly!" 
 
 The second stream knew that it was not a bit of 
 use getting angry because the other was spiteful, 
 so she said, "Good-bye!" And then she added to 
 herself, ''I'd rather be silly than selfish!'' 
 
 On it went, gathering strength as it tumbled 
 among the rocks. Now and again, w^hen it came to 
 a narrow place, it had the hardest work in the 
 world to get through, but it twisted and turned 
 till it managed to squeeze past, and as it went 
 lower down, things began to get easier. 
 
 The birds were singing in the woods. The trees 
 waved their arms and threw kisses to the little 
 stream from the distant mountain. And in the 
 meadows, the flowers turned their faces to it, 
 while the lambs with their funny long legs, came 
 romping along to look at the gurgling water. In 
 one place, some cattle actually came in till they 
 stood knee deep in the stream, and as they drank 
 the cool water, they seemed to lift their heads to 
 God and say, ''Thank You for sending us the 
 stream ! ' ' 
 
 This pleased the stream mightily, and as she 
 got older, she got bigger and broader, just like 
 boys do. She was a river now, and the fishing 
 boats that had been tossing all night on the wild 
 deep came in to rest upon her quiet bosom. 
 
 At last the Sea, which is the foster-mother of 
 the rivers, stretched out her arms to receive her 
 (You know that geography books speak of the 
 arms .of the sea!). 
 
THE RIVER AND THE POOL 81 
 
 **Well, aren^t you glad to get here?'' she asked 
 the river. 
 
 '^Yes/' replied the river. ^^Very glad, for 
 everyone seemed so pleased to welcome me. The 
 trees waved to me, and the lambs and the cattle 
 actually came to have a good look at me. As I 
 came along, I have been turning the water-wheel 
 for the miller, and the boats came sailing in just 
 before I got to you. I'd much rather be a river 
 than a pool," she added. ^'It is such fun sharing 
 what you have with others. ' ' 
 
 ^^But what has become of your sister T' asked' 
 the Sea. ^^I thought you would have made the 
 journey together. You could have helped one 
 another then." 
 
 The river was silent for awhile. Then she said, 
 ^' We started together but she wanted to stay up in 
 the mountains a bit longer. ' ' 
 
 Away up there, the other stream had found a 
 cosy little hollow into which she crept. It was 
 quiet and cool. There were no horrid rocks to 
 climb over, but just nice soft earth, so feeling 
 rather drowsy, she settled down and was soon fast 
 asleep. 
 
 By and by, a green scum formed over her face, 
 and when she did open her eyes for a minute, she 
 felt so heavy that she just went off to sleep again. 
 The water became stagnant and slimy so that the 
 children who came out from the lonely farms 
 among the hills would not go near it. In fact, had 
 the pool not been quite so sleepy, she might have 
 heard them say to one another, ''Keep away from 
 that pool! It's nasty. Let's go down to the 
 stream; there's more fun there!" 
 
82 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 And there was. The stream had heard their 
 joyous laughter, and she would say to herself, 
 *' After all, it is better to give what one has and 
 still have it, than to keep it and lose it ! I would 
 rather be silly than selfish, and it is much more 
 pleasant being a stream than a pool. Look at the 
 fun of sharing !'* 
 
XVIII 
 THE FINGEE-POSTS 
 
 ONCE upon a time, there was a boy who had to 
 set out on a journey, but he did not know 
 the way. So he went to the wise man of the village 
 and said, ^'Please can you tell me which road I 
 have to take.'' 
 
 **It all depends where you are going," he re- 
 plied. 
 
 *'0h,'' said Harry, *^I have to go from Here to 
 There, and I thought you might know the way. 
 Grown-ups generally know best." 
 
 The wise man looked very pleased as he said, 
 ^^You must take the first turn to the right, and 
 keep straight on. Then look out for the finger- 
 posts." 
 
 ^*Are there many?" he asked. 
 
 *^No, only three. If you follow their direction, 
 you will be well on your way, and by the third, 
 you will meet the guide who is to take you the 
 rest of the journey. Good-bye, and good luck!" 
 
 Harry set oif in high glee. It was a glorious 
 day, and as he tramped along, sure enough, he 
 espied a finger-post standing at the cross-roads. 
 But when he got to it, and read what was painted 
 on the arm, he was disappointed. Instead of the 
 name of the place he wanted, it had just one word, 
 GO, and a long arm pointing along the highway. 
 
 Still, the wise man had told him to follow the 
 
 83 
 
84 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 direction of each finger-post and lie would reach 
 his goal, so off he started again, only this time, he 
 was whistling to keep his spirits up. 
 
 At the bottom of the hill, he came upon the sec- 
 ond sign. This was stranger than the first, for it 
 had also one word on it, but this time it was 
 GROW, and the arm sloped upwards, pointing 
 right up the steep track that wound up the face of 
 the hill. 
 
 There was no whistling now ! Harry wanted all 
 his breath for climbing. But as he went slowly 
 on, he thought to himself, ^^IVe never heard of 
 finger-posts like these. The old gentleman said I 
 had to follow them, however, so I suppose it's all 
 right. I'll see when I get to the third." 
 
 But he began to feel that he would never reach 
 the third. Every step of the way seemed to be 
 getting harder, and he was tired. At last, he 
 thought he saw something sticking up on the crest 
 of the hill, so he re-doubled his efforts and after 
 some stiff scrambling, he stood panting before the 
 third. 
 
 The others had been strange, but this was the 
 strangest of the lot. In golden letters that shone 
 in the light of the setting sun as though they were 
 painted in liquid fire, Harry read the word, 
 GLOW : and the arm pointed down the other side 
 of the hill, where the track suddenly ended in a 
 dense wood. 
 
 ^ ' Now where am I f " he said to himself. * ' There 
 doesn't seem to be any road now. Why, of course, 
 the man said I would meet the guide at the third 
 finger-post. But where is hel No track, no guide I 
 This is queerer than ever!" 
 
THE FINGER POSTS 85 
 
 As Harry stood for a moment, looking about 
 for the guide, and wondering if they would meet 
 before it got dark, he saw smoke curling above 
 some trees. So off he set to see what it was. 
 There was a tiny cottage, almost hidden from 
 view, so the boy, who was feeling just a little out 
 of temper, thought that perhaps if the guide were 
 not there at least some one might be able to say 
 vrhere he was. So he knocked at the door. 
 
 It was opened by a lady with a kind face just 
 like his mother's, and before he could get his 
 question out, she said, ''Well, little man, lostf 
 
 ''Nearly! But do you happen to know if there 
 is a guide about here? I was told that I would 
 meet him at the third finger-post." 
 
 "So you came that way, did jouV^ asked the 
 lady. "I wonder if you can remember what was 
 on them." 
 
 "Yes, I think so ! The first one said GO, and the 
 arm pointed straight along. Then the second said 
 GEOW, and it pointed upwards. While the third 
 had GLOW on it, and pointed down here to the 
 dark woods." 
 
 "Splendid!" cried the lady. "That's it! 
 What a fine memory you have. To reach the 
 golden land of There you must 
 
 "Go as God points you; 
 Grow as God bids you; 
 Glow where God puts you 
 Day by day!" 
 
 "But what about the guide?" Harry asked. 
 "He is here, waiting to lead you on. His name 
 is Christ!" 
 
XIX 
 THE TWO PLANTERS 
 
 LONG, long ago, there was a part of the world 
 where the flowers had never begun to grow. 
 The people did not know what was wanting to 
 complete the scene, but as they looked over the 
 long grassy slopes of the hills and the wide 
 stretches of the plains, they wished that there 
 were something just to brighten the landscape. 
 
 One day, a stranger appeared from no one knew 
 where. He was dressed in clothes that looked as 
 though they had been made from snow when the 
 sun shines on it: they were so dazzlingly white. 
 So while most of the people were looking wonder- 
 ingly at their visitor, one, a bit bolder than the 
 rest went up and said, ^^May we ask who you are, 
 sir, and whence you came 1 ' ' 
 
 The stranger smiled, saying, * ^ I come from far. 
 My home is in the land of Loveliness, and look ! I 
 have brought these from my king.^' 
 
 He brought his hand from behind his back and 
 held out a gorgeous bunch of flowers. There were 
 what we now call primroses, violets, daffodils, 
 and quite a lot of others. **A11 these will I plant 
 in your land, if you will let me, for without the 
 flowers the earth looks sad.^' 
 
 The man spoke so kindly and was so polite in 
 
 86 
 
THE TWO PLANTERS 87 
 
 his ways, that the people were quite eager for him 
 to do as he wished. Yon see, everyone likes polite 
 people; that is why mother is always telling you 
 to be careful how you speak. 
 
 Some of them got spades and dug up the 
 ground. Then the visitor set to work. He planted 
 seeds and bulbs very carefully, setting some in 
 straight lines; others in little clusters. Then 
 smoothing the soil over them, he turned to those 
 who were looking on, and said, *^By and by I will 
 return. Then we shall see the result of our 
 work. ^ ' 
 
 ^^ Before you go,'' said one of the people, 
 ** won't you tell us your name? We are very 
 grateful to you for taking so much trouble." 
 
 With a laugh he said, * ^ Oh, it's no trouble. It is 
 a real pleasure to me to do a little service for any- 
 one. My name? Love-right! Good-bye." And 
 he had gone. 
 
 He was hardly out of sight when another man, 
 very much like the first to look at, came along. 
 *'I say!" he cried. ^^WTiat a shabby old world. 
 WTiat you want is some flowers. Look here! if 
 you like, I'll plant some for you. WTiat do you 
 say?" 
 
 The people looked at one another and the man 
 who had spoken to the other visitor said, *^We 
 have already had one who has planted some." 
 
 ^*I know whom you mean," replied the other. 
 ^ ^ But you will have to wait a long time before you 
 see anything for what he has done. But mine! 
 Say, I'll put some seed in here that will be up 
 in no time." 
 
 They listened. ^ ' What shall we do ? " asked one. 
 
88 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 *^Well it does not seem quite fair to tlie first to 
 let this man sow seeds as well,'' remarked one of 
 tlie older men. "Besides, when once he has 
 planted them, we cannot take them out again. 
 Let us have nothing to do with him. I don't like 
 his ways." 
 
 But some of the younger laughed. "Oh, it 
 wouldn't be fair to give one a chance and not an- 
 other. Let them both show us what they can do. 
 Then, when their flowers come up, we can see 
 which we like the best." 
 
 Well, the stranger set to work, but instead of 
 digging up more land, he flung the seed with both 
 hands right over the soft soil. And before long 
 he had finished. 
 
 "There you are," he said, dusting his hands. 
 "Before long you will have any amount of flowers 
 and things. Now I must be off." 
 
 Time went on. The seeds were growing fast, 
 and then the people saw that they should have 
 been more careful about that second man and his 
 promises. There were great ugly weeds pushing 
 up everywhere: dandelions, stinging nettles, and 
 all kinds of rank weeds were growing in the 
 place where the other seeds were trying to make 
 their way. 
 
 It looked as though the primroses, the violets, 
 and the daffodils, would have no chance at all, 
 and some said, ^ ^ Why did we let that fellow plant 
 his nasty seeds'?" 
 
 The old man who had warned them was just 
 going to say, "I told you so," when he remem- 
 bered in time that was a little unkind, so he altered 
 it to, "I wonder why we did!" 
 
THE TWO PLANTERS 89 
 
 Yet in spite of all the weeds might do, they 
 could not quite crowd the fair flowers out of sight, 
 and the perfume of the timid little violets got 
 through somehow. While taller and taller grew 
 the sunflowers which were the emblem of Love- 
 right, and these as they saw the sun kept their 
 faces always turned to him so that they might 
 reflect his smile. 
 
 One day, the people found Love-right standing 
 beside his flowers, looking very sad. 
 
 ^'An enemy has done this,'^ he said. '^Do you 
 know who has been planting all these weeds!" 
 
 ^^Why," was the reply, ^'the very day you were 
 here, another man very like you came. He begged 
 to be allowed to sow his seeds, so we let him. 
 This is the result." 
 
 ' ' You know his name ? ' ' 
 
 * ^ No ! he didn 't give us his name. ' ' 
 
 *'I know who it was. It was Work-spite. He 
 always follows me and tries to spoil my work 
 of bringing happiness to people. Now we must 
 get rid of these weeds. What a pity I didn't warn 
 you about letting anyone else sow seeds here." 
 
 While the stranger and the people set to work, 
 I remembered how these two are always coming 
 to the hearts of little people, seeking to sow their 
 seed. Love-right is your better self. He brings 
 seeds of love and unselfish deeds that will shine 
 bright and fair, and send their fragrance far and 
 wide. The other is the tempter who scatters seeds 
 of rudeness, ill-temper, and unkind words in the 
 heart. 
 
 '^If ever old Work-spite comes here again," 
 said some of the men. '*we will tell him we want 
 
90 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 no more of Ms weeds !'' And Love-right laughed 
 merrily as he said, ''Yes, good seeds mean good 
 deeds in the end. There's nothing that will make 
 the old world so happy and bright." 
 
XX 
 
 MAEK, THE MERBY 
 
 SITTING in my study late one night, I was 
 startled by a gentleman of somewhat unusual 
 appearance. He stepped down from the book- 
 shelves, and with a polite bow, stood in the light 
 of the fire. 
 
 *^Grood evening!^' he said, repeating the bow. 
 
 * ^ Good evening ! " I replied. ^ * I think we have 
 met before somewhere, but your name. ..." 
 
 '^My name is Chuzzlewit; Martin Chuzzlewit, 
 at your service, sir. ' ^ 
 
 ^^Why, of course. I remember you now quite 
 well. In fact, I was just thinking of that young 
 friend of yours when you came in. You know 
 whom I mean. That young fellow who was so 
 cheerful, so merry; and in these days. ..." 
 
 *^0h! you mean my partner and benefactor, 
 Mark Tapley, I suppose?" 
 
 *^ Exactly! Could you refresh my memory. 
 You see, he was such a delightful fellow; one it 
 was a real pleasure to know. And there are some 
 young folk to whom I would like to introduce 
 him." 
 
 Mr. Chuzzlewit blew his nose very violently, and 
 clearing his throat he began: ^'Well, Mark was 
 originally employed in a somewhat subordinate 
 
 91 
 
92 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 position in a not much-freqiiented hostelry, 
 and. . . ,'' 
 
 '^Pardon me a moment! I am snre my little 
 friends would never understand all that. I sup- 
 pose we might say that Mark was a kind of handy- 
 man in a small hotel T' 
 
 ^^ Precisely! That is just what I said. Well, 
 his one object in life was to be happy, whatever 
 happened." And at this moment, Mr. Chuzzle- 
 wit laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. 
 ''Rather good, that? 'Happy whatever hap- 
 pened!' And I didn't intend to make a pun. As 
 I was saying, because he found his work too easy, 
 he wanted something to be happy about, and find- 
 ing that I was going to America to try my for- 
 tunes there, he followed me to London. I was 
 extremely poor and didn't know how I was going 
 to pay my passage but what do you think he 
 wanted 1 First he said he wanted to find work, to 
 be man-servant to someone, and the poorer the 
 better; the harder the life, the happier he would 
 be. In short, he wanted to go with me. I tried to 
 put him otf , and said that I simply could not af- 
 ford to take him. But he said, if I would not take 
 him, he would go just the same. And being bent 
 on being cheerful, he would take the craziest, leak- 
 iest, wretchedest ship he could find, and if he were 
 lost at sea, then, said he, 'There'll be a drowned 
 man at your door, always a-knocking double 
 knocks too!' So I had to agree. 
 
 "Well, it was a good thing for me I did. We 
 were in the steerage — the poorest and cheapest 
 part of the ship, and I was so ill all the time, what 
 with the rolling of the ship, and the crowded place 
 
MARK, THE MERRY 93 
 
 we had to occupy. But Mark! Why, bless me, 
 that 's just what he did every day. He was a bless- 
 ing to everybody. He looked after me, and as 
 for the children who were on board, why, he 
 played with them, comforted them, helped to put 
 them to bed. . . . But perhaps I weary you ? ' ' 
 
 * * Not in the least ; I am most interested. Please 
 go on.^' 
 
 ^'Well, we arrived at a place called Eden, 
 though why they called it that, I cannot under- 
 stand. I had arranged to start business there, 
 and we finished that part of the journey in a small 
 steamer. When our baggage was put ashore, I 
 thought we had reached the most dismal spot on 
 earth. An old man pointed out the house I was to 
 live in, but he told us that everybody was ill 
 there.. He was ill. His sons were ill. The last 
 man who came had died; and I did feel happy. ^' 
 
 ''What about Mark!'' I interrupted. 
 
 **I'm coming to him. He was just as cheerful 
 as could be, and when we found the house hadn't 
 any door, he just got out a blanket and nailed it 
 up for one, and set about getting things unpacked, 
 while I sat down and just cried like a child. 
 
 ''Mark looked at me, and said, 'Don't do that, 
 sir. Anything but that! It never helped man, 
 woman, or child over the lowest fence yet, sir, 
 and it never will.' He had got our things un- 
 packed, and called out, 'Here we are, sir. Every- 
 thing in its proper place. Here's the salt pork. 
 Here's the biscuits. Here's the blankets. . . . 
 Who says we haven't got a first-rate fit-out? I 
 feel as if I was a cadet gone out to India, and my 
 noble father was chairman of the Board of Direc- 
 
94 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 tors. Supper's ready, a supper comprising all tlie 
 delicacies in season. Here we are, sir, all com- 
 plete. **For what we are going to receive,'' et 
 cetera. . . . "WTiy, bless you, sir, it's very like a 
 gipsy party.' 
 
 ^^Some days later, we got things going, only I 
 fell sick — Fever, I think. But Mark said, ^ A touch 
 of fever? I da^resay, but bless you, that's noth- 
 ing. Wait haK a minute till I run up to one of our 
 neighbours, and ask what's best to take for it; 
 and to-morrow, you'll find yourself as strong as 
 ever again. . . . I won 't be gone a minute. Don't 
 give in while I'm away, whatever you do!' 
 
 ^^I watched Mark as he left the door, and I 
 heard him say to himself, ^Now, Mr. Tapley (giv- 
 ing himself a tremendous blow in the chest by way 
 of reviver) just you attend to what I've got to 
 say. Things are looking about as bad as they can 
 look, young man. You'll not have such another 
 opportunity of showing your jolly disposition, my 
 fine fellow, as long as you live. And therefore, 
 Tapley, now's your time to come out strong; 
 or Never!' And Mark's cheerfulness pulled us 
 through all our difficulties," said Mr. Chuzzlewit. 
 
 *^Yes," I added, '*but do you think my little 
 friends will understand all this 1 ' ' 
 
 ^^Sure! And when they are older, they will 
 make Mark's acquaintance for themselves. Mean- 
 time, tell them from me — or from Mark — that the 
 worst thing in life is getting sorry for yourself, 
 and the best is being sorry for other people, and 
 doing what you can to gladden their hearts. Keep 
 smiling, even when it hurts ! ' ' 
 
XXI 
 
 GROWING 
 
 IP you go about with your eyes open in the early 
 Spring you will notice that something is hap- 
 pening every day. That sounds strange, but it is 
 true. It is not everyone who goes about with his 
 eyes open, for some people may stare at a thing, 
 yet never see it. 
 
 But what is happening? Well, when the year 
 first came in, it was quite dark by teatime, but 
 now we can do without a light for a much longer 
 time, so the days have been growing and gettrag 
 longer. 
 
 Look at the parks and the gardens, and you 
 will see the change there. Not very long ago, the 
 trees looked as miserable as possible. They were 
 bare and cold, so that when the chill winds blew, 
 one could almost hear the trees say, ** Please leave 
 us alone ! We are so cold, and we don 't want to 
 be tossed about any more.'* 
 
 All that is changed. The trees have got their 
 Spring costumes, and very proud they are of their 
 fine green clothes. And as though not to be out- 
 done, the earth has decked her garments with the 
 beautiful flowers. 
 
 Those flowers were funny! You know, first of 
 all, they sent up a little shoot, just like a peri- 
 
 95 
 
96 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 scope, as though to see what was goiiig on on the 
 surface. Then they kept on growing till at last 
 the flowers opened their eyes, and smiled on the 
 world. Trees and flowers have both been growing, 
 all through the gloomy days. 
 
 Then some of you have been doing the same 
 thing. You are bigger, broader, stronger, and 
 kinder, than you were a year ago. That is fine!. 
 
 Have you seen that picture of two little girls, 
 standing back to back, while their sister who is 
 bigger than either of them, is seeing which is the 
 taller? She has put a ruler across their heads. 
 But one child is about five inches shorter than the 
 other, so she is standing on her toes. The big sis- 
 ter, however, has noticed this, and she says, ' ' No 
 tipty toes!'^ 
 
 She evidently thinks the tiny one is not quite 
 fair, but I like that little child for wanting to be as, 
 big as her sister. She is making the best of her 
 size and herself! And if there is one thing she 
 wants more than another it is to be big! 
 
 Do you ever measure yourself? I used to know 
 a little girl who was fond of being measured, and 
 on her nursery wall, there were quite a number of 
 marks. I do not mean finger-marks, though they 
 do get on walls. But these marks were to show 
 how big she was on the date which her father put 
 opposite to each of them, and they could both see 
 how much she had grown since she was last meas- 
 ured. 
 
 I want you to measure yourself, not back to back 
 with one another, nor even against the wall, for 
 there is more than one way of growing. We have 
 minds as well as bodies, and souls as well as both. 
 
GROWING 97 
 
 Ask yourself, *^How much have I grown f 
 '*Am I taller than a year agoT' Good! That 
 shows you have been going to bed willingly when 
 mother said it was time, and that you have been 
 playing well after school-hours. 
 
 ' ' Am I wiser ? ' ' Better still ! It proves that you 
 have been trying to work as well as play, and that 
 when your teacher asked you to learn something, 
 you did not say to yourself, ^^Oh, bother!'' but 
 went and tried to do it. 
 
 ^ ^ Am I better than I used to be 1 More thought- 
 ful, obedient and kind?" That shows that you 
 have been trying to follow the noble and true and 
 that is best of all. 
 
 There are many things that help us to grow; 
 Before the spring flowers came, while the days 
 were yet gloomy and dark, someone went out to 
 plant the bulbs. The ground was damp, and the 
 hole into which they were put was cold and dark. 
 They had been far more comfortable in the shop. 
 Then the rain came and drenched the soil, but the 
 little bulbs did not want to get up, and when the 
 wind came and whistled, they just turned over 
 again and went to sleep. But after awhile, the 
 sun smiled on the earth and they felt they could 
 not lie buried there any longer, so up they came, 
 happy and gay. 
 
 It is much the same for us. We have chill 
 winds of disappointment and showers that damp 
 our spirits. We have to make our way through 
 difficulties, just as the shoot has to come up 
 through the soil. But the great Gardener knows 
 what is best for us, and showers and sun are all 
 meant to help us to grow. 
 
98 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 To grow tall is good, to grow wise is better, 
 but to grow like our Pattern is best of all. So 
 before you go to sleep every night, measure your- 
 self with Him, and ask, ^'How much have I 
 grown to-day r' 
 
xxn 
 
 CESAR'S COLLAR 
 
 KING EDWARD used to have a favourite ter- 
 rier that went everywhere with his royal 
 master, and on the dog's collar were the words, 
 **I am Caesar: I belong to the king." 
 
 That makes a fine motto for boys and girls, and 
 there was once a boy who carried it in his heart. 
 And it was like this: 
 
 The land where he lived was in danger. The 
 king's soldiers were few though his foes were 
 many, and when an invasion was threatened, the 
 king sent his heralds through every town and 
 village calling the men to the colours to help to 
 save their homes. 
 
 Now Olaf heard one of these heralds, and when 
 he saw the long line of men waiting to be enrolled, 
 he took his place with them in the queue outside 
 the recruiting office. Some of them began to laugh 
 good humouredly at the boy, and one said, *^You 
 run home to your mother, little lad, and wait till 
 you grow. You are no use!" 
 
 But the boy took it all in good part. He kept 
 both his temper and his place in the line, and 
 waited his chance with the rest. 
 
 They say that all things come to him who waits, 
 and at last, Olaf 's turn came. He stood before a 
 
 99 
 
100» PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 table at which a stem old general sat with some 
 other officers, taking names. 
 
 *^Well, my boy,'' said the general, *'what da 
 you want?" 
 
 ^^ Please, sir, the king wants men, and I've 
 come. ' ' 
 
 The scarred old warrior did not laugh as the 
 men outside had done, but there was just a twinkle 
 in his eye as he said, ^^Good! Now I want you 
 to answer a few questions. You know a soldier 
 must always obey orders. Are you always obedi- 
 entr' 
 
 Olaf remembered that sometimes he had not 
 done just what mother had asked or what his 
 father had told him, and as his cheeks began to 
 burn he replied, '^I'm afraid I'm not, sir; at 
 least, not always." 
 
 There was silence for a minute while the gen- 
 eral's pen scratched, and then he looked up and 
 said, ^^A soldier must be unselfish. His duty 
 must come first, and he may have even to die for 
 someone else. Are you unselfish?" 
 
 Olaf began to feel more uncomfortable than 
 ever. He had never thought that being a soldier 
 of the king meant all this. 
 
 But the officer did not seem to notice, and he 
 went on, *^Then he must be truthful, brave and 
 pure, never shirking the difficult or the disagree- 
 able. . . . Why, what's the matter?" 
 
 The boy's eyes were filled with tears. 
 
 *^My lad, although you cannot say Yes to my 
 questions, I believe you wish you could. Look! 
 I will put your name down on this roll of the 
 king's men. But he does not want them all at the 
 
CESAR'S COLLAR 101 
 
 front ; some are to stay at home, though he wants 
 every man for his service. Home is your place. 
 And every time you are tempted to be disobedient, 
 selfish or untrue, I want you to pull yourself up 
 and say, ^ I cannot do that ; I belong to the king ! ^ 
 That will keep you loyal to your sovereign, and it 
 will help you to be valiant and true.*' 
 
XXIII 
 THE QUEST OF THE SILVER KEY 
 
 DO you know who the Incas are ? They are not 
 children who do their homework carelessly 
 — though sometimes they are, though it is spelt 
 differently. The Incas were Indians who once 
 lived in Peru, and had vast silver mines. 
 
 Well, Jack had been reading- about them one 
 evening, and he was just closing the book when a 
 strangely dressed Indian stepped out and said, 
 
 ^^At last, great white master, I have found 
 you. ' ' 
 
 Now Jack liked the way the man spoke, for 
 everyone likes politeness, so he replied, 
 
 * ' Have you been searching long ? I have always 
 lived here." 
 
 ''Yea, many moons, white master," said the 
 other. ''And now, if you will but bring a sack 
 of silver — which can be had for the seeking, then 
 the silver key can be bought. This will open the 
 doors of the kingdom, and it shall be your own. 
 Then you shall reign over us as our chief. Seek 
 and you shall find, and the kingdom shall be 
 yours." 
 
 With that the Indian disappeared. Jack 
 thought a minute. There was a sack in the wood- 
 shed, so he went off, and he took with him an axe 
 
 102 
 
THE QUEST OF THE SHAVER KEY 103 
 
 lest he should meet any foes, though what he 
 expected to meet in his quest for the silver, I can- 
 not tell you. The moon was shining, so that it was 
 bright as day, and Jack trudged off manfully, to 
 see where he could fill his sack. H!e had not gone 
 more than a hundred miles or so when he saw at 
 his feet a great basin of molten metal, shimmering 
 and glimmering in the moonlight. There was no 
 path down to it, but he crossed a field, clambered 
 over some rocks and stooped down to fill the sack. 
 But to his disgust, he found that it was what you 
 have guessed, though what he had never thought 
 possible: it was water — only water on which the 
 moon was shining. 
 
 He was a little disappointed, but he got back to 
 the white road and tramped on in quest of the 
 treasure. **Seek and you shall find, and the king- 
 dom shall be yours.'' The words of the Indian 
 buzzed in the boy's brain. Before long, he espied 
 a clump of trees with gleaming silver leaves. 
 
 **Now," he thought, ^' shall I climb up or cut 
 the tree down first? Why, of course I have the 
 axe. What a good thing I brought it. ' ' 
 
 So he cut away at the trunk and soon with a 
 mighty crash, the tree came down. But when the 
 boy went with his sack to fill it, he saw it was a 
 silver birch, and the leaves were only grey. On 
 he went again. And joy! there in front of him 
 was a hill of silver, the summit shining like the 
 armour of a knight. He started to run towards it, 
 saying to himself: 
 
 *^Why, I shall be able to fill as many sacks as 
 I like now. The Indian was right : Seek and you 
 shall find, and the kingdom shall be yours." 
 
104 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 It was harder work climbing the hill than he 
 thought, but at last — and it is wonderful how 
 many hard things we can do if only we take a 
 step at a time and plod on — he was near the top 
 and at the point where the silver began. But to 
 his horror, he found that it was not silver at all, 
 only frozen snow. The moon had played him 
 another trick ! He flung down the sack. He threw 
 away his axe. He resolved that he would waste 
 no more time on such an errand, but would go back 
 to bed before he caught cold. However, wonder- 
 ful to tell, as he was on his way home, he met an 
 angel — at least, he looked like an angel, for his 
 raiment was white and glistening. 
 
 ^^Well, my man," said he, *^and where are you 
 going!'' 
 
 Jack was very pleased to hear him say *^my 
 man," instead of ''little boy," and so he told the 
 angel all about his quest for the silver key. 
 
 ''Ah," said the angel at length. "What a good 
 thing we met. Why, I have the very thing you 
 are looking for. ' ' 
 
 "No?" said Jack, thinking he must be dream- 
 ing. 
 
 "Yes!" replied the other. And putting his 
 hand in the folds of his cloak, he drew out a pack- 
 age. Carefully unwrapping the cloth in which it 
 was wound, the angel came at last to a book, and 
 in the middle of the book was a slender silver key, 
 engraved with the words, "Love to God." 
 
 "This is the key you were seeking, and it will 
 open the kingdom for you," said the angel with a 
 smile. 
 
THE QUEST OF THE SILVER KEY 105 
 
 *^But where is the door, now I have the kejV* 
 asked the boy. 
 
 The angel pointing to the open book read aloud, 
 *^If thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for 
 her as for hid treasures, then thou shalt under- 
 stand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge 
 of God." 
 
 Jack followed the angePs hand as he stretched 
 it forth, and there stood the door. It was marked 
 LIFE, and as he slipped the key into the lock, the 
 door swung open on the most beautiful palace the 
 boy had ever seen. There were other doors lead- 
 ing from the entrance hall, and treasure-chests 
 filled each apartment. 
 
 The angel smiled again as Jack looked wonder- 
 ingly about him eagerly reading the gold plates 
 that showed the contents of each: Joy, Content- 
 ment, Courage, Honour, Happiness. These were 
 only a few of them, and to his delight. Jack found 
 that his key opened every lock. 
 
 **Say, that old Indian knew something, when 
 he sent me on this quest, didn't heT' cried the lad. 
 ' ' Seek and you shall find, and the kingdom shall 
 be yours. '* 
 
 ''Yes,'' replied the angel, ''he was right, and 
 love to God is the key that will open every pre- 
 cious thing to you that the world contains. ' ' 
 
XXIV 
 GOD'S GARDEN 
 
 THERE was once upon a time a king who was 
 greatly beloved by his people, and nothing 
 pleased him more than to receive from them some 
 tokens of their love. And because they knew he 
 was very fond of flowers, although the royal gar- 
 dens were ablaze with colour all summer, they 
 often sent to the palace baskets of choice blooms 
 they had grown themselves. This made the king's 
 heart glad. It shows what a lot of pleasure a 
 little kindness can give to others. 
 
 Baskets and bunches came every day. Some of 
 them had nicely-written messages with them for 
 the king to read. But for all that, the king was not 
 altogether satisfied, for he sometimes wondered if 
 the people really meant the kind things they 
 said. He resolved to find out. ^^If they are gen- 
 uinely true-hearted towards me,*' he said to him- 
 self, '^then they will be the same to everyone. 
 Kind words ought to mean a kind heart.'' 
 
 Without a word to anyone, the king laid aside 
 his crown and sceptre. He put on a long grey 
 cloak that covered him from head to foot. Then 
 he got a wide-brimmed hat that came well over 
 his face, and with a pair of dark spectacles on, he 
 made sure that no one would know him. So he 
 set off on his journey. 
 
 106 
 
GOD'S GARDEN 107 
 
 The road was dusty, and soon the king got 
 dusty too, so that he looked just like a pilgrim. 
 *^Now is. the time to try my plan,^' he thought 
 with a smile. So he stopped at a house and said, 
 **I am tired and thirsty, and have come from far. 
 Could you kindly give a pilgrim a bowl of milk!" 
 
 The woman, thinking it was some poor wan- 
 derer, scowled as she said, ^'Oh no! There's a 
 spring farther on. You can get some water there, 
 and sit down while you drink it, if you are tired. ' ' 
 And she slammed the door. 
 
 That might be good enough for a pilgrim, but 
 the king could not help wishing she had not sent 
 him those flowers with the loving message of the 
 day before. 
 
 He went on to another house, and there he asked 
 for a morsel of bread. But the man told him 
 there was a baker's shop in the village where he 
 could buy as much bread as he wanted, for said 
 he, ^*We can't give bread to idle fellows. Be- 
 gone!" And again the door was shut in his face. 
 
 The king went on, very unhappy now, and 
 rather sorry he had come, for he was disap- 
 pointed. Suddenly he stopped. * ' I 'm wrong, ' ' he 
 said. **They don't mean to be unkind. Perhaps 
 they are too poor to give food away. I'll try^ 
 another plan. " So at the next house, which had a 
 pretty garden at the side, he said, *^ Could you 
 spare a few flowers for a lonely pilgrim? They 
 would make the road seem easier." But the man 
 made some excuse about them being wanted for the 
 market. So the king tried another house, and 
 another, always seeing that it was a house with a 
 garden, but at the last one, the woman said, ^*Do 
 
108 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 you think we Ve nothing else to do but grow flow- 
 ers to give away? We have to work. If you want 
 flowers, grow them or buy them ! ^ ^ And her hus- 
 band nodded saying, *' Quite right!'' 
 
 They saw him sad, and tears up-filled his eyes. 
 Then as he raised his hand to dry those drops, 
 back fell the cloak of sombre grey and lo ! a robe 
 of royal purple lay beneath. It was no stranger- 
 pilgrim, but the king. And he had asked in vain ! 
 
 If Christ the King came to your souPs garden 
 would you have any flowers to offer Him! Ask 
 mother the kind He likes best besides thought- 
 fulness, thankfulness, gentleness, and love. 
 
XXV 
 
 THE AWAKENING OF ARISTOBULUS 
 
 ^f^HEEE were two great things about Aris- 
 -■' tobulus. One was his name, which is a big one, 
 and the other was his opinion of himself, which 
 was bigger still. But though he felt very im- 
 portant, that did not make him better-liked by the 
 townsfolk. When he went out, he would strut 
 along like a peacock, and if a poor man happened 
 to cross his path, Aristobulus would say scorn- 
 fully, ^ ^ Out of my way, dog ! ' ' 
 
 No wonder people crossed the street when they 
 saw him coming. Even the dogs of the blind men 
 would try to tug their masters out of reach of the 
 proud man's tongue. And the wise used to wag 
 their heads and say, Pride goeth before a fall! 
 
 One day this came true, though no one seemed 
 to know just how it happened. Somebody had 
 thrown a banana skin on the pavement (it could 
 not have been a girl, for girls are too thoughtful ; 
 and no boy would do anything so stupid and dan- 
 gerous). However, Aristobulus must have slipped 
 on it in some way, and he hurt his leg so badly 
 that he found he could not get up. 
 
 He was mad with pain and he roared for help. 
 But then people were so used to seeing Aris- 
 tobulus in a temper and to hearing him shout, that 
 they took no notice, and there he lay. Fortunate- 
 
 109 
 
110 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 ly, however, after some time, a man in a shabby- 
 coat who was coming along on the other side saw 
 him, took pity on the proud Aristobulus, and went 
 over. 
 
 ^*Have you hurt yourself, sirf 
 
 **0f course I have ! Think I'm amusing myself 
 lying here ! " he growled. * ' Help me up ! Go on ! 
 Don't stand there gaping at me as though I were 
 an animal in the Zoo.'' 
 
 The peasant tried first of all to bind up the 
 injured limb, and all the time, Aristobulus was 
 moaning with pain or else blaming the poor fel- 
 low for his clumsiness. 
 
 ^*How shall I get you home?" he asked at 
 length. **You ought not to try to walk, even if 
 you could." 
 
 ^^And I couldn't even if I ought," replied the 
 other. '^Go and call a carriage for me, and for 
 goodness' sake, do hurry up about it. Think I 
 want to stay here on these hard flags all day I" 
 
 There was only one place in the town where 
 carriages could be hired so the peasant ran off as 
 hard as he could. But the owner was a very cau- 
 tious man. ' ^ Where do you want to go ?" he asked. 
 ^'And who is going to pay me? You don't look 
 as though you could afford to ride." 
 
 That was not a very kind thing to say, but the 
 peasant very patiently explained that it was not 
 for himself, but for Aristobulus who would cer- 
 tainly pay. 
 
 **What! for him? He called me a dog yester- 
 day. Not much! Let him walk home," said the 
 man, and no carriage would he send. 
 
 What was to be done? The peasant was strong, 
 
THE AWAKENING OF ARISTOBULUS 111 
 
 but he did not think he could carry Aristobulus 
 home, even if he would let him. So after turning 
 it over in his mind, he managed to borrow a 
 wheelbarrow, and he trundled the rich merchant 
 home in that ! 
 
 The doctor set the broken thigh, though Aris- 
 tobulus was fuming and storming all the time. But 
 the doctor took no notice of his rudeness, and 
 having done all he could for him, he settled his 
 patient for the night. 
 
 Sleep was impossible. But as he tossed in pain, 
 two things kept coming back to mind and Aris- 
 tobulus could not get rid of them. One was the 
 kindness of both the peasant and the doctor; the 
 other was the thought that he had been extremely 
 rude to them and very ungrateful for all they had 
 tried to do for him. So first thing next morning, 
 he sent his servant to find the peasant who had 
 been such a friend in need. 
 
 Now the peasant was on his way to ask how 
 Aristobulus was, so the servant ushered him into 
 his master's presence. 
 
 The sick man looked up, and beckoning the 
 other to approach he said, ^'I did not thank you 
 for helping me yesterday. Tell me why you were 
 so kind.'' 
 
 The peasant shuffled from one foot to another, 
 and turned his hat about in his hands. Then at 
 last he said, ^'The Book, sire, the Book." 
 
 * ^ What do you mean 1 I don 't understand you. ' ' 
 
 **It says, 'Love your enemies. . . .' '' 
 
 * *But I'm not your enemy, my man. I have not 
 seen you before. And yet . . . and yet your face 
 seems familiar. What is your name?" 
 
112 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 *^Karl Saviska, sire." 
 
 A cloud passed over the face of the merchant. 
 Then he said, ''You are not the Saviska whose 
 farm was sold last year for rent ? ' ' 
 
 The man nodded, looking very uncomfortable, 
 and fell to studying the pattern of the costly car- 
 pet. 
 
 **And you knew I turned you out? Yet you 
 came to my assistance ! Karl, you've been a true 
 friend to me, and you've taught me a lesson. I 
 shall be proud and selfish no more. I will try to 
 make amends to you." And he was as good as 
 his word. Something in Aristobulus had awak- 
 ened ! 
 
XXVI 
 THE BEARDS TAIL 
 
 THIS is a tale about a bear's tail, but if you 
 have been to the Zoo, you must have noticed 
 that the funniest thing about a bear is — that he 
 hasn 't one. Now the lion, the kangaroo, even the 
 monkey. . . . But the poor bear looks quite bare, 
 just as though he had lost something. Has he? 
 Did he have a tail once? The story says he had, 
 and like all real stories it begins ^^Once upon a 
 time. ' ' 
 
 Once upon a time there was a bear roaming 
 about, looking very miserable. Perhaps he was 
 cross too — I have heard of people being as cross 
 as a bear. The truth was that like all bears, he 
 was very fond of honey — like boys are — and girls. 
 And the other bears being fond of it too there was 
 not a bit to be found. Just then a bird that had 
 been soaring over the hills on a message for the 
 Prince of the Fairies, spied him. So she came 
 wheeling down and stopped just by the bear. 
 
 ^^ Morning, Ben,'' said she. (I didn't tell you 
 that his name was Ben Bruin). 
 
 The bear growled something. He might have 
 been a boy. 
 
 ^ * You don't look very sweet this morning. Why, 
 you are just like some of the mortals I have met, 
 First thing in the morning they. ..." 
 
 113 
 
114 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 ' ' I don 't feel very sweet, ^ ' interrupted the bear. 
 ^ ' If you had been hunting round for a little honey 
 like I have for days and days, what would you 
 feel liker' 
 
 The bird just whistled to herself for a minute. 
 
 ** Honey, did you, say I I never touch it. But 
 what a good thing we met. I think I can put you 
 in the way of some, though I cannot put it in your 
 way. See 1 But you will have to climb for it ! ' ' 
 
 So she told him that flying over the hill, she 
 noticed a lot of bees round a cleft in the white 
 rock. 
 
 **And," she added, quite wisely, *^ where there 
 are bees you may find honey. Not that I know 
 much about them,'' she added. ^^Bees are too 
 fond of leaving a sting behind them, like people 
 with nasty tempers. Well, what do you say?" 
 
 ^*I think I'll have a try," replied the bear. 
 ^^ Good-bye, I'm off." 
 
 Now Ben Bruin was rather proud of the fact 
 that he could walk upright like men do, but he 
 found that it was no use trying to get up the hill 
 like that. In fact, the bird was right. He would 
 have to climb for it. So he set to work with might 
 and main — that means on all fours, hands and 
 knees. And I find that we can always climb best 
 like that : working with our hands, but sometimes 
 going down on our knees to pray. 
 
 But try as he would, he did not get on at all 
 well. He was rather short of breath and the hill 
 was steep. And as sure as he sat down to rest 
 he slid down too ! By mid-day he was only half- 
 way to the rock. But as he held on to a young 
 sapling, he saw something shining on his paw. He 
 
THE BEAR'S TAIL 115 
 
 looked again. Then he looked at his other paws. 
 Yes, on each paw he saw something he had forgot- 
 ten. He had hooks on them — claws! So he put 
 them all out and he found that by digging them 
 into the ground he could get up ever so much 
 better. And when he saw a fallen tree right across 
 one of the steepest bits of the hill, he walked up 
 this without any trouble. 
 
 At last he got to the white rock, but the cleft 
 was high up and he would still have to climb. He 
 tried, and he tried, and he tried again. Then he 
 discovered that by putting out all his hooks, he 
 could pull himself up from one ledge to another. 
 And there, sure enough, was the biggest store of 
 honey he had ever seen. Some bees were there 
 too and they did not like him coming. But Bruin 
 did not mind, and filling his arms with honeycomb, 
 he made off. 
 
 Hie was careful to get some distance from the 
 rock before he even tasted the honey. But at last 
 when he thought he was safe, he sat down. He 
 had, however, forgotten the lessons he ought to 
 have learned on the way up, for he did more than 
 sit down. He slid down! Yes! he slipped and 
 slipped, just as though he were on a toboggan. 
 How he kept his balance or how he kept the honey 
 I can't tell. And, didn't he shout with pain? The 
 other bears heard the noise and they all came to 
 watch. And when he reached the foot of the hill, 
 some of them helped him up. 
 
 ^'Why, Ben Bruin,'' said one, ** where 's your 
 tail?" 
 
 Ben looked. **I must have lost it on the way; 
 but look, boys, I've got the honey. It was worth 
 
116 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 the climb. There's plenty more. I like to share 
 a good thing when I can. ' ' 
 
 So the rest of the bears went off too. Whether 
 they did the same as Ben Bruin and came down 
 the same way or not, I do not know. But it is true 
 that, to this day, bears have no tails except those 
 that people tell about them. 
 
 This is true too. To get the honey we have to 
 climb! That means we must strive hard to be 
 unselfish, pure and true. But there is something 
 else worth knowing, that just as the Bible says 
 about Israel, ^*He made him to suck honey out of 
 the rocks,'' so God makes it possible for you and 
 me to get sweetness out of the hard things, if 
 we do them for His sake. Fancy that: we must 
 learn our arithmetic, geography and grammar, 
 so that we may be able to work better for Him 
 when we grow up. We must do the little duties 
 of each day for His sake. And then we shall find 
 sweetness in hard things. The wise man who 
 tried to serve God in this way found that obeying 
 God's word made the commandments ^'Sweeter 
 than honey and the honeycomb." And as Ben 
 Bruin found we too shall prove that to climb is 
 worth while. 
 
XXVII 
 AEE YOUR FEET SHOD! 
 
 THERE was a gentleman staying in a London 
 hotel, and on his way down to breakfast one 
 morning, he met one of the porters who said, 
 *^Good morning, sir!" 
 
 That was not very unusual, but the gentleman 
 noticed that the porter was looking at him in a 
 very curious manner. So all the rest of the way 
 downstairs, he wondered what it meant, and 
 looked at himself in a long mirror he passed, 
 thinking that he must have forgotten his collar 
 or something. 
 
 He could not see anything wrong, but that is 
 not surprising. We can seldom see our own faults 
 though other people's are quite plainly seen. 
 
 While he was at breakfast, one of the waiters 
 asked him, *^Have you got your boots, sirT' 
 
 ^*Yes; I have them on. Look here, what's the 
 matter with everyone this morning? It isn't the 
 1st of April, is it?" 
 
 But the other simply smiled and said nothing. 
 
 After breakfast, this gentleman went into the 
 hall, and then he understood. There was another 
 gentleman, looking very angry. His face was red 
 with rage. And what do you think was the matter? 
 
 He had one boot on, and he was holding another 
 117 
 
118 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 in his hand, so that he had to stand on one foot, 
 or if he tried to walk, he was going with one foot 
 up and the other down ! 
 
 **Look here!'' he cried. **What am I to do? 
 It is not much use telling me that someone else 
 has got my other boot. I can't go out like this! 
 I can't get this one on!" 
 
 And everyone was trying to look sorry and not 
 smile, though he did look so comical; while the 
 hotel servants were scurrying to and fro, trying 
 to find the man with the other boot. 
 
 That reminds us of something Paul once wrote 
 to his friends. He said, ^* Having your feet 
 shod. ..." Why shod? 
 
 Looks count for something. The gentleman 
 felt he could not go out with only one boot on. 
 And you will remember when the poor Prodigal 
 came home, one of the first things his father said 
 was, ^^Put a ring on his hand and some shoes on 
 his feet!" He wanted him to look like a gentle- 
 man. 
 
 Then comfort counts for something. You have 
 never had to walk along hard roads or cold pave- 
 ments without your shoes. (What you do on the 
 seashore at holiday time is not the same thing.) 
 We saw two ragged little boys sitting in a shop 
 doorway. One of them, in crossing the street, 
 had trodden on a piece of glass, and cut his bare 
 foot rather badly. But the other was a real chum. 
 He tore a bit of the lining out of his jacket, and 
 bound up the other's foot so that he could get 
 home. But the old gentleman in the hotel was 
 not going to risk anything like that. He wanted 
 to be properly shod. 
 
ARE YOUR FEET SHOD? 119 
 
 While looks and comfort are important, fitness 
 is more important still. That was why such at- 
 tention was paid to the boots onr soldiers had. 
 If they were worn or uncomfortable, the men 
 could not march properly, and the Eoman soldiers 
 had nails in their sandals so that they could 
 march without slipping on the great roads. Fit- 
 ness meant everything. And the way the feet 
 were shod helped the men to do their best. 
 
 That applies to more than the men. In some 
 of our great camps overseas, we saw them some- 
 times shoeing the Army mules. When a mule did 
 not want his shoes on, then the fun began. Ropes 
 had to be fastened to his legs ; he would be pulled 
 to the ground, and then several men would hold 
 on to the ropes, without hurting him, until his 
 shoes were nailed on. He did not know it, but we 
 do : he could not be fit for the work he had to do 
 unless he were properly shod. 
 
 Have you got your shoes on ? I mean the kind 
 that Paul spoke about. Are you ready to do what 
 the King commands? 
 
 If we are too busy with our play or too intent on 
 our games when mother wants us to run an errand 
 for her, our feet are not shod. If we are too tired 
 or too cross to help another by doing a little kind- 
 ness, our sandals of service are missing. 
 
 But if we are always eager to be helpful and 
 kind, ready to do anything in our power to lighten 
 another ^s load or go on an errand of mercy, al- 
 ways willing and obliging, then those about us — 
 our parents, our teachers at school, our master 
 when we go out into the world — ^will say, ^ ^ There 
 is a boy, there is a girl, whose feet are shod ! ' ' 
 
XXVIII 
 THE FAIRY QUEEN 
 
 FAIRIES! There aren't any such things/' 
 said Roy decisively. And as he was nearly 
 ten and had just gone into the next form at school, 
 his wisdom was beyond question. 
 
 ^ * But I know there are, ' ' retorted little Ruth. 
 
 ^ ' Have you ever seen one ? ' ' asked her brother. 
 
 ^*N-o! but . . . but I know there are plenty. 
 On moonlight nights, they danoe right under this 
 very tree, and Mummy is such a dear that I guess 
 she's a fairy growed up." 
 
 ^^Well," said Roy, his hands deep in his 
 trousers pockets, *^I'd just like to see one, that's 
 all!" 
 
 ^^ Honour bright! Would you?" piped a tiny 
 voice. And right in front of the children sat a 
 quaint dwarf with the most comical face you have 
 ever seen. 
 
 ' ^ Rather ! ' ' answered the boy, trying to look as 
 though it would take more than a dwarf to sur- 
 prise him. 
 
 With that, the tiny fellow leapt to his feet, and 
 pulling up two or three pieces of turf from the 
 lawn, he beckoned the children to follow him, 
 down a long, sloping track that seemed to lead 
 right under the garden. 
 
 120 
 
THE FAIRY QUEEN 121 
 
 **Don^t be afraid/' said the dwarf. ^^It isn't 
 dark." And it wasn't, for the glow-worms on 
 each side made the track quite bright. ^^We are 
 going to see the Fairy Queen!" 
 
 After a time, they came to a great golden gate, 
 and their guide gave the bell such a mighty tug 
 that it went jangling and tangling all through the 
 palace. 
 
 The porter, who knew the dwarf quite well, ad- 
 mitted them, and then they were taken into an 
 ante-room to await audience with the Queen. She 
 had gone out into the world, explained the dwarf, 
 to see that her servants were carrying out her 
 instructions, and so they might have to wait for 
 some time till she returned. 
 
 *'What do her servants do in the big world?" 
 said the dwarf, repeating Ruth's question. ^'Oh, 
 Queen Kindheart — the Queen of the Fairies, you 
 know — sends her courtiers to cheer and help peo- 
 ple who are in any kind of trouble, and though 
 they are quite invisible, these servants of hers are 
 always busy obeying her commands. ' ' 
 
 Just then a fanfare of trumpets announced 
 that the Queen had come back, and in a short 
 time, the children, with their strange guide, were 
 ushered into the royal presence. 
 
 She was such a dainty little figure, seated there 
 on her throne of ivory and gold, and although 
 Roy and his sister felt a bit shy at first, she soon 
 set them at their ease. (Ruth explained after- 
 wards that she had a smile just like mother's, 
 and so mother must really be a fairy ^^growed 
 up!"). Before they quite knew how it came 
 about, they had told her all about the brown and 
 
122 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 white rabbits in the garden, and the funny tricks 
 their terrier knew. 
 
 '^Now,'' said the Queen at length, *' would you 
 like a drive in my chariot before you go backT' 
 
 **Ra — ^yes, please, your majesty," said Roy. 
 * ' We 'd think it topping ! ' ' 
 
 The golden chariot with two white horses was 
 brought, and away they all went, the horses gal- 
 loping up the sloping road that led to daylight. 
 A wave of the Queen's sceptre, and they were 
 quite invisible. ^'And now I can show you what 
 we fairies do without anyone seeing us." 
 
 Trudging along the road in front of them was 
 an old man with a big bundle of firewood on his 
 back. He was very frail, and the bundle seemed 
 far too heavy for him. But some boys were run- 
 ning behind, calling out rude names, and one was 
 throwing mud at the poor fellow. 
 
 The Queen spoke to one of the boys, and he 
 suddenly cried to the others, ' ' I say ! Let 's play 
 the game ! We '11 go and help the old man with 
 his load." And they did. 
 
 There was a little boy, crying as though his 
 heart would break. The Queen descended from 
 the chariot, and whispered something in his ear ; 
 suddenly the tiny fellow rubbed his eyes with his 
 knuckles, and though that did not improve his 
 looks, he started to smile again. 
 
 Everywhere they went, with a wave of her 
 sceptre or a gentle word, Queen Kindheart made 
 cross faces look happy, and sad faces glad again. 
 And all too quickly, it seemed to the children, they 
 were back at the palace gates once more. 
 
THE FAIRY QUEEN 123 
 
 **Well, Roy. You believe in fairies now, I 
 suppose?'* asked the Queen with a smile. 
 
 Eoy looked very sheepish. Who could have told 
 the Queen what he had said to Ruthf He did not 
 know, but he just managed to stammer, ' ' Oh, yes, 
 your majesty! Quite!'' 
 
 *^Then before you leave, I want to enroll you 
 both in my service. Kneel!" 
 
 Ruth and Roy knelt side by side upon the steps 
 of the throne. And as the Queen laid her hand 
 on each curly head, she said, ' ' Remember, you are 
 now in the service of Queen Kindheart. Every 
 chance you get of doing a good turn for someone 
 in need, you are showing your loyalty and love 
 to me and to — a greater One who is your King ! ' ' 
 
XXIX 
 MYRA OF THE MAGIC TOUCH 
 
 MYRA'S father was a minister. They had 
 come from a small country place with sweet 
 little cottages, to a big factory town where tall 
 chimneys belched forth black smoke, and where 
 the hum of machinery filled the air all day long. 
 The little girl had never seen such a place before. 
 The shops and the busy streets were wonderful. 
 But the thing that impressed her most was the 
 number of mites, barefooted and poor, that she 
 saw wandering about as though no one cared for 
 them. 
 
 She felt so sorry for these children that one 
 day she had actually gone to the cupboard where 
 her shoes were, and counted how many pairs she 
 had, to see if there were enough to go round. But 
 there was not one shoe each! 
 
 So behind her smiling face, there were often 
 thoughts that were too sad for a child, and this 
 Monday afternoon, she felt sadder than ever. 
 Lessons were over, and creeping up to the study, 
 she coiled herself in her father's big armchair, 
 thinking of what he had told the people the day 
 before about the poor folk he had been to see. 
 How much they needed sympathy and help ! 
 
 While she was wondering what she could do, 
 
 124 
 
MYRA OF THE MAGIC TOUCH 125 
 
 and feeling how tiny she was, her eyes filled with 
 tears. Then through the tears she saw a mar- 
 vellous sight. 
 
 In the church, where the pulpit had stood, was 
 a great shining throne, where an Angel sat, one 
 clad in a robe that glistened like snow in the sun- 
 light. Surging up to the throne, there was a vast 
 throng of girls and boys. She knew by the sunny 
 smile Who occupied the seat of honour, but it was 
 some time before Myra could quite see what was 
 happening in the front. But as she got nearer, 
 she saw the Angel was giving something to each 
 child who knelt before him. Some received tiny 
 lamps that they were to carry to the dark places 
 of life, that the gloom might be dispelled. Others 
 were given a song with which to cheer the hearts 
 of weary wayfarers. What would she get ? Myra 
 felt herself growing more excited every moment 
 she got nearer, and when at last she too reached 
 the steps of the throne, the angel said, *^What 
 shall I give thee, Myra, my child, for thy heart 
 is tender?'' 
 
 ^ ' Just what it shall please thee to give, ' ' she 
 replied. 
 
 She held out her hand, but instead of putting 
 anything in it, he laid one hand on hers, and 
 placing the other on her brow, said, * ' Then I give 
 thee the magic touch." 
 
 Myra did not understand a bit what that meant, 
 and all the way home she was wondering what it 
 could be. She was thinking so hard that she 
 scarcely noticed the barefooted little chap in 
 front, until she heard his sobs. 
 
 *' Whatever is the matter, little manT' 
 
126 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 He lifted his face to hers, and Myra saw that 
 the tears had made two white channels down his 
 grimy cheeks. * ' I Ve slipped, and scraped my leg 
 on those railings," he whimpered, '^And oh! it 
 does hurt!" 
 
 **Let us sit on these steps. Don't cry! We'll 
 see what we can do. ' ' And with her handkerchief, 
 and the ribbon she wore as a sash, Myra began 
 to render first-aid. ^ ' Say if I hurt you. ' ' 
 
 The tears had stopped, and the boy said, 
 * * You 're not hurting a bit ! Why, it feels better 
 already." 
 
 Was it the magic touch? I cannot say. But 
 as she went along, the streets seemed full of sun- 
 shine. Everyone who saw her bright smile felt 
 happier. Sour looks vanished, and the care-lines 
 were smoothed out from tired faces. One or two 
 people who knew her, stopped to shake hands with 
 the minister's little girl. And she said to herself, 
 *'Why, I know what it is — it's the magic touch!" 
 
 Would you like it? It can be had for the ask- 
 ing, for the magic touch is Sympathy. 
 
XXX 
 
 SHAEP AS A NEEDLE 
 
 WA.NTED, a sharp boy, to make himself 
 •useful.'* That was an advertisement I 
 read in the paper, and it made me think. One 
 had often seen it put, ^^A smart boy,'* but who 
 wants a sharp one? 
 
 There are sharp people who do what is not 
 quite right, and sharp people who say what hurts. 
 But surely no one could want a boy who would 
 do either. Then it came to me : why, they wanted 
 a boy as sharp as a needle ! 
 
 That is the first thing about a needle. When 
 you were first trying to sew, you found how even 
 the small point of a needle could hurt if you put 
 it in the wrong place. That is the kind of sharp- 
 ness that some people have. They are all point 
 and they wound others as well as themselves. 
 But used rightly, the sharpness of the needle is 
 a fine thing. The point is made sharp so that 
 it can get through things, and get through them 
 without much pushing. That is what we must 
 remember about lessons or our work. 
 
 Then the needle has an eye. So have some 
 little people, and they use it only to see faults 
 in their playmates or to see reasons why they 
 should not try to do right. But the needle uses its 
 
 127 
 
128 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 eye better than that. Do you know what its eye is 
 for? Of course you do. It is to take in something 
 that it can carry along with it. 
 
 That was the kind of boy that was wanted — 
 one who would remember what he was told, one 
 who would take in what he was taught and carry 
 it along with hun. And that is why you have 
 lessons to learn, that you may be useful in the 
 work of the world. 
 
 Another thing* about the needle is this : it must 
 be straight. There are one or two like the 
 surgeon's needle or the packing-needle that are 
 meant to be bent, but most needles must be quite 
 straight. You cannot do fine work with a crooked 
 needle, and you cannot do much with a person 
 who is not straight, that is, one who will not play 
 the game and do what he knows to be right. 
 
 It is very difficult to make a needle perfectly 
 straight, but it is one of the first things they do 
 when they are making them. After being heated 
 a number of pieces of steel wire are rolled back- 
 wards and forwards in a machine, and pressed 
 against one another. And it is so with us. It is 
 in our work and our play, while we have most to 
 do with one another, that we learn to do what is 
 fair and true, for no one likes to play with a child 
 who will not be straight, and noble boys and girls 
 know that to be upright and unselfish, to do right 
 even when it is hard, are the qualities we admire 
 most. 
 
 The needle must be bright as well. A rusty one 
 will stick in the cloth, and make the work very 
 unpleasant, and brightness in girls and boys 
 is more than polish — though good manners and 
 
SHARP AS A NEEDLE 129 
 
 politeness are always necessary. This brightness 
 is getting through one ^s work, but doing it cheer- 
 fully and willingly, so that it makes work a pleas- 
 ure. Sulks or grumbles are like rust on the 
 needle. 
 
 That was the kind of boy they wanted in the 
 city. And that is the kind everyone likes, one as 
 sharp as a needle. 
 
 A point to get through things, 
 An eye to carry with us what is useful, 
 Straightness so that we do the right, 
 Brightness that will help us to do our 
 work cheerfully, smoothly, gladly. 
 
 These are some things the needle has, and like it, 
 we must always be true as steel! 
 
XXXI 
 
 THE MISSION OF THE MIGNONETTE 
 
 IN a gorgeous garden bloomed a lovely rose. 
 There were other roses, but none like this one, 
 for it was exceedingly vain and always making the 
 other flowers unhappy with its foolish airs. 
 
 No one likes flowers or even children who have 
 too good an opinion of themselves, and that was 
 just what was the matter with this rose. She 
 would fluff out her petals, and when the breezes 
 blew, she would nod her head in a stately manner 
 as though she were almost too great to listen to 
 the messages they brought. 
 
 Perhaps what made things worse was this : the 
 old gardener seemed to pay very great attention 
 to this rose. He would see that she was well sup- 
 ported and that no ugly insects were troubling 
 her by crawling round. So some of the young 
 flowers got jealous. Then they started to sulk. 
 
 ^^What is the use of growing at all?" com- 
 plained little Polly Anthus. ^^He never looks at 
 us!'' 
 
 *^I feel the same," said the Mignonette, which 
 made the Dahlia look round in surprise, for she 
 was generally so sweet. 
 
 *' Don't fret, little flowers," he said. ''You 
 know, we all have our place to fill, and we have 
 
 130 
 
THE MISSION OF THE MIGNONETTE 131 
 
 to be just ourselves. The gardener thinks some- 
 thing about us, and so does master, or we wouldn't 
 be here at all!*' 
 
 But the flowers did fret. And this made the 
 proud rose more pleased with herself than ever, 
 for she knew that they were jealous of her. 
 
 * ' Poor little things, ' ' she would say, * * Did they 
 do it to them, thenf And she would toss her 
 head in her haughty way, adding, ^^Why don't 
 you hurry up and grow? Then you might be 
 noticed. ' ' 
 
 So you can see that she was rude as well as 
 vain. 
 
 One night, something had evidently vexed the 
 wind, for he came into the garden in a raging 
 temper. He stormed and he raved, and went 
 tearing up and down just like people who forget 
 themselves and fly into a tantrum. So the little 
 flowers were glad for once that they were so tiny. 
 They nestled down in their beds, hoping that the 
 wind would not notice them, and it was not until 
 morning that they dared open their eyes. 
 
 He had gone ! Everything was still except for 
 the thrush in the orchard who was whistling a 
 merry tune to himself, so the flowers lifted their 
 heads and looked about. 
 
 Something else had gone! 
 
 They looked round the garden, but the proud 
 rose was nowhere to be seen. Her place was 
 empty. But on the ground just where she had 
 stood was a number of red petals. 
 
 Whether it was she who had vexed the wind 
 or not, we cannot tell, but she had been blown 
 
132 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 up ! And the tiny flowers were glad they had been 
 spared her fate. 
 
 There are some advantages in being small. It 
 is not always the grown-nps who are happiest, 
 and it is not only big people who can do good in 
 the world. That is what the Mignonette dis- 
 covered ! 
 
 When the gardener came past where the Mi- 
 gnonette was growing, she noticed that he looked 
 very troubled. Of course, she at once thought it 
 was because his precious rose had gone, but when 
 she saw him push his spectacles up on his fore- 
 head so that he could read a letter, and heard 
 him say, ^'Poor little chap!'* she knew she was 
 wrong. It could not be the rose. 
 
 Suddenly he stooped down, and laying hold of 
 a clump of Mignonette, he cut the stems and be- 
 fore she had time to cry out, he bore her off to 
 the tool-shed. He got a box, laid her inside with 
 a few big leaves and put on the lid. 
 
 Lying there in the dark, the Mignonette felt 
 very unhappy. She was sorry she had ever 
 grumbled about the quiet home in the garden, and 
 before long, she was more sorry still. She was 
 taken off somewhere, and the box was tossed and 
 tumbled till now she was on her head and now 
 on her side, and she hardly knew what would hap- 
 pen next. 
 
 But like most unpleasant things, the end of her 
 troubles came. She heard the chink of scissors, 
 the lid was lifted, and it was light again. 
 
 She was in such a strange place. There was a 
 long room with rows and rows of beds, and a lady 
 with a white apron and such a sweet smile carried 
 
THE MISSION OF THE MIGNONETTE 133 
 
 the flowers to a little boy who was lying very still 
 in one of the cots. 
 
 His eyes were closed, but the nurse said, ^^Look, 
 here 's something for you. ' ' 
 
 He must have thought it was medicine, for he 
 pretended to be asleep. 
 
 Then she said, "Smell!'' And of course, that 
 sounded like medicine too, so he still kept quiet. 
 
 But when she said, "Here's a box for you," 
 he looked up quickly, for every boy likes to get 
 a parcel of some kind, and reading the note that 
 said, "With love from Uncle," he took the Mi- 
 gnonette and held her so tightly in his little hot 
 fingers that she could scarcely breathe. 
 
 She felt faint and hung her head, so the nurse 
 told the boy that if he would just let her have 
 them for a few minutes, she would put the flowers 
 in water, and he should have them quite close to 
 his bed so that he could smell their perfume. 
 
 They were put on his locker, and as the flowers 
 saw the look of pleasure in the sick boy's face, 
 and knew that he had forgotten his pain, it was 
 worth all the tossing in the post to be able to give 
 such pleasure. 
 
 "Better to die here," said Mignonette to her- 
 self, ^ ' than to live selfishly in the dear old garden 
 and perhaps be blown to pieces like that rose." 
 
 She was right. The rose had lived simply for 
 herself and she was gone, but the Mignonette was 
 living for that sick little fellow in the hospital. 
 And do you know, there was not a patient in the 
 whole of that ward who was not the happier for the 
 scent of those wee flowers. 
 
 When we give our best to cheer someone else, 
 
134 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 we are fulfilling our mission as the Mignonette 
 did. The sweetness of a kind deed is carried far 
 beyond our own lives, and its fragrance lasts long 
 after the flowers are dead. 
 
XXXII 
 
 THE TWO DOGS 
 
 THEIR names were Pyrame and Pierrot. They 
 were both French, and while one was black 
 and white, the other was white and black. Gen- 
 erally, they were good friends. It was only when 
 Pierrot wanted his brother's bone that they did 
 not get on well together, for, as you know, greedi- 
 ness always means trouble. 
 
 It was a good thing that this did not often hap- 
 pen, for they both had to work hard, and when 
 there is a quarrel, it makes one feel that one can- 
 not do one's best. 
 
 What? You did not know that dogs have to 
 work! In France some of them do. They are 
 harnessed to little carts, and they take round the 
 milk or vegetables, just as their masters require. 
 
 When the great war broke out, Andre, master's 
 son, had to go. He belonged to the Machine Gun 
 Corps, and he had to take Pierrot, who was to 
 draw one of the ammunition carts. 
 
 The two dogs had heard their masters talking, 
 though they could not understand all they said, 
 but just before Andre left, he called Pyrame aside 
 and said, 
 
 ^ ^ Well, old boy ! I have to leave you for a time, 
 and Pierrot is going too. I want you to stay be- 
 
 135 
 
136 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 hind and help the old pere with the milk-round. 
 Hie can't do without you, so you must be brave 
 and work hard till I get back/' 
 
 Pyrame looked up into his master's face, but 
 he could not say anything, for a lump had come 
 in his throat at the thought of being left behind. 
 So he just wagged his tail very slowly as much 
 as to say, ^ ' I quite understand, but don 't you think 
 it is rather hard on me to stay behind?" 
 
 Months passed. The work was very tiring for 
 one dog when there had been two instead of one, 
 and many a time Pyrame wished that he could 
 have gone off to the army instead of being left 
 at home. But when he felt he was getting sorry 
 for himself, he would recall what his young mas- 
 ter had said about being brave, and he would tug 
 at the little cart with all his might, as though he 
 loved pulling it better than anything else in the 
 world — though he didn't! 
 
 One day, the dog knew that something was go- 
 ing on. The old master was hobbling about the 
 house as though he could not keep still. He would 
 go to the window and look down the road. Then 
 he would take off his spectacles and rub them 
 very carefully as though he could not see through 
 them. Then he would open the door and have 
 another look. 
 
 Pyrame was wondering if his master were ill, 
 when he heard wheels crunching on the road, and 
 the voice that he loved ! So he rushed out. There 
 was young master getting out of a farmer's cart. 
 He had his arm in a sling. But who do you think 
 was with him? Why, Pierrot! 
 
 Pierrot was wounded too. He had one leg 
 
THE TWO DOGS 137 
 
 bandaged, and lie could only limp into the house. 
 But Pyrame noticed that he kept his chest out, 
 just like a soldier's dog would do. 
 
 It was some time before the two dogs could get 
 a quiet time together, but at last, when the men 
 were sitting before the fire, the wounded dog 
 told his story. 
 
 '^You see, Pyrame,'' he began, giving a lick 
 first to his wounded paw, ^' while you have been 
 having a good time at home, we have been doing 
 something!" 
 
 That was hardly a kind thing to say, and Py- 
 rame felt it, for he had been doing more than his 
 share of work. But then, Pierrot did not know 
 as you do that one should be careful not to hurt 
 people's feelings by saying thoughtless things. 
 
 ^^ Young master and I were sent up to the 
 front, and one day the enemy was firing on a 
 village we were holding. They were very anxious 
 to drive us out, but our orders were to hold it at 
 all costs. 
 
 ' ' But it was hard work, and our officer saw that 
 we must get help. How was he going to get a 
 message through? The enemy had cut the wires, 
 or, at any rate, they were not working, so master 
 said I would go. 
 
 *^I was rather glad, not that I was afraid to 
 stay there, although the noise was dreadful. So 
 they fastened a message to my collar, sent me 
 back to the general for more men, and told me to 
 hurry them up as fast as I could. And I did. But 
 when I got back, master was shot in the arm, and 
 while I was looking at him, I was hit in the leg, 
 
138 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 so here we are, and we have leave for a few 
 weeks/' 
 
 While Pierrot was finishing his story, there was 
 a knock at the door and both dogs were barking 
 their loudest, for it was the post-lady and she 
 always got a welcome. And then young master 
 came with a letter in his hand, and patting Pierrot 
 on the head, he exclaimed, ^ ' Splendid, old fellow ! 
 You are to have the decoration for bravery ! Good 
 boy!'' 
 
 Pierrot put out his chest still more and wagged 
 his tail as much as to say, ^^Well, of course!" 
 And poor old Pyrame wagged his tail too, for 
 he was proud of his brother, but he felt very, very 
 sad inside ! If only he could have been with the 
 army instead of tugging a milk-cart! He might 
 have won the medal that the French army gives 
 to brave dogs. 
 
 His master must have read his thoughts, for he 
 took the faithful dog's head in his hands and said, 
 ^ ' Good old Pyrame ! You did not have a chance 
 like Pierrot, but I think you are just as brave. 
 While he was helping his country, you were help- 
 ing old master, and I know pulling that cart on 
 the hot streets is hard work! Doing your duty, 
 no matter what it is or where it is, shows the kind 
 of stuff you are! You are a hero too!" And 
 Pyrame 's heart jumped and his tail wagged 
 harder than ever. So if one dog was pleased with 
 himself, the other was pleased that his master 
 loved him, and I know which dog was the braver. 
 
xxxin 
 
 THE POPPIES IN THE COEN 
 
 A PATCH of poppies was growing in a corn- 
 field, and a very pretty picture it made. But 
 unhappily things were not as nice as they looked. 
 The poppies had a fit of the sulks, and that spoils 
 everything. 
 
 It happened this way. The flowers opened their 
 eyes one morning, just after they first got their 
 lovely new dresses. These were of rich red ma- 
 terial, and they made the poppies feel very proud 
 indeed. 
 
 To their great annoyance, however, they found 
 a lot of green corn growing round them, and be- 
 cause the corn was taller than the poppies, it 
 could not help looking down on them, though not 
 in the way they thought. Many people are like 
 that. They imagine things and so make them- 
 selves miserable and others too! 
 
 **I declare," remarked one poppy, shaking out 
 the folds of her crimson skirt, '^what a place to 
 live in! There ^s positively no room to breathe 
 with these horrid cornstalks crowding round. I 
 wish they wouldn't stare so!'' 
 
 * ' Yes, ' ' added her sister. ' ' And how important 
 they try to seem, lifting their heads so high and 
 looking down on us as though they were far su- 
 
 139 
 
140 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 perior. If they were well-dressed like we are, 
 they might have reason to be proud. I shall cer- 
 tainly lodge a complaint ! ' ' 
 
 Just then, the hedge who had been listening to 
 the flowers thought he would join in. ^^Not so 
 fast, my pretty poppies ! If you knew a little 
 more, you would say less. Don't you think you 
 are a bit hasty in speaking in that unkind way? 
 I am a good deal older than you, and having lived 
 here all my life, I have seen quite a lot of your 
 family at different times. Yes, and a good many 
 harvests. 
 
 ' ' The corn you despise will not always be green. 
 By and by it will turn to gold, and that is what 
 the farmer is waiting for. When he comes round 
 here, it is not to admire you, beautiful as you look 
 in your fine clothes! He hardly gives you a 
 thought! He comes to see the corn changing 
 from green to gold under the kisses of the warm 
 sun. ' ' 
 
 The flowers hung their heads, but the hedge 
 was only just getting under way, and he went on : 
 
 ^^When the corn is ripe, what do you think 
 happens ? It is carefully reaped, carted off to the 
 miller, and he grinds it up till the whiteness of 
 its heart is seen. Then it is made into bread, 
 and that makes the world go round. Its clothes 
 may not be as gay as yours, but what of that! 
 
 ^^Take a lesson from the children. When they 
 see anyone not very well-off or not as well- 
 dressed, they don't complain because they have to 
 live in the same world with them. Not they! 
 Instead, they are glad that God has given them 
 such kind mothers and fathers who provide nice 
 
THE POPPIES IN THE CORN 141 
 
 cfothes to wear and let them have a good time. 
 And because of the blessings they enjoy, they are 
 always on the look-out for someone to whom they 
 can do a good turn. 
 
 *^So you see, my pretty poppies, beauty is not 
 a thing of clothes. It is something in the heart, 
 shining in the face and sounding in the voice. 
 But there, I^m getting quite a preacher, and you 
 did not know any better, did you?" 
 
 The flowers were sorry they had been so silly, 
 and they promised the old hedge that they would 
 never despise anyone again, no matter how shabby 
 or plain their clothes might be, but instead, they 
 would try to gladden some other heart every day. 
 And so, they lived happily ever after. 
 
XXXIV 
 
 CAMOUFLAGE 
 
 ONE day in France, I met a soldier friend 
 walking with a paint-bucket and a brush in 
 his hand, so I asked him what he was going to do. 
 
 ^^You didn't know that I was a bit of an artist, 
 did you? I'm just off to do a bit of camelflash." 
 (That was his way of saying the big word at the 
 head of this page.) 
 
 Of course, you know what the word means. You 
 may have seen ships painted with strange streaks 
 or buildings all decked out with queer patches 
 of paint in all kinds of shapes, as though some- 
 one had been trying to mend holes in their clothes 
 and had done it very badly. 
 
 The reason that these patches are painted as 
 I have described is so that, in time of war, the 
 enemy airmen or others who are on the look-out 
 with field-glasses, may not be able to see things 
 just as they are. 
 
 The big g-uns were screened with nets, covered 
 with leaves or pieces of green cloth, so that from 
 the air they looked like the land round about. But 
 while you know all this, do you know who taught 
 us to do these things! We learned it from Nature 
 herself. 
 
 In winter, the earth puts on camouflage till you 
 
 142 
 
CAMOUFLAGE 14^ 
 
 might think that the flowers and the trees would 
 never be seen again, but she is only pretending ta 
 be dead. 
 
 There are some butterflies so like the brown 
 leaves of autumn, and they keep so still, that if 
 a bird should happen to be near them, they look 
 just like leaves and nothing more, and the bird 
 never sees them. 
 
 Some fish rest on the beds of streams, and 
 when they do so, they can change the colour of 
 their backs just to the shade of the river-bed, 
 while other fish called Perch, that live generally 
 in rivers with a lot of reeds and rushes, are 
 marked with dark stripes, like the reeds. 
 
 The tiger's stripes are for a similar reason. He 
 lives in the wild jungle amid the canes and tall 
 grass, and so those dark stripes on his coat make 
 him so that he can scarcely be seen, while the 
 Polar Bear is always white because his home is 
 among the icefields and the icebergs. This is how 
 Nature takes care of her children. 
 
 Some animals can camouflage themselves even 
 more wonderfully. The Scotch Hare is brown in 
 summer, but when the snow is on the ground his 
 coat turns white. And the Ptarmigan, a bird that 
 also lives in Scotland, has white feathers in win- 
 ter, but in the sununer and autumn it is as brown 
 as the grouse. 
 
 But which is the most wonderful of all the 
 animals in this? Surely the chameleon, for it can 
 change its colour in the most marvellous way. 
 Some soldiers in the East found a chameleon one 
 day, and remembering what they had heard at 
 school about him, they thought they would see 
 
144 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 what he could do. He was on the sand, and his 
 colour was quite yellow, so they laid him on an 
 army blanket and he went a dark brown. ' ^ Good ! ' ' 
 they said. "Now get some of those leaves, and 
 put them round him. ' ' 
 
 That made the chameleon decide that green was 
 his favourite colour, and it was only when one 
 of them wanted to put him on a Tartan plaid with 
 its many colours that the game stopped. What 
 would have happened then, I wonder ! 
 
 Now all this shows us something worth remem- 
 bering. "We grow like the people we admire most, 
 so we should choose good companions, always sail 
 under our true colours, and never be ashamed of 
 doing right. 
 
 The right use of Camouflage helps us to serve 
 our King in this way too. We can cover what 
 might be a sulky face with a smile, and instead 
 of speaking the word that might sting, we can 
 keep it back and speak a kind one that will help. 
 Then the nasty feeling will vanish, and we shall 
 be happy again. 
 
XXXV 
 
 THE HELPEES 
 
 IT happened that in my dreams I went to the 
 place where men and women, and girls and 
 boys, get their life-work. It was a beautiful build- 
 ing, with wide marble steps, high columns, and 
 carved oak doors, and it was called the Temple 
 of Life. 
 
 They took me to the office where a lot of people 
 were waiting their turn, for this was where the 
 tasks were given out. Some of the people had 
 come back for more work. They were mothers 
 and fathers who had been busy toiling for their 
 children for years, and some were there for the 
 first time. These were the girls and boys, and I 
 was very interested in what they would get. 
 
 Who do you think was attending to them all? 
 It was an old gentleman with a long white beard, 
 and flowing locks. No, not Santa Claus, but it 
 may have been his brother, for they were certainly 
 very much alike. 
 
 He was talking to a man who had evidently 
 been there pretty often, and I liked the kindly 
 ^mile with which he said to the man, '^Yes, of 
 Bourse you enjoy your work, the more heart you 
 put into it! Everyone tells me that!'' 
 
 ''True," said the man, ''but. Father Time, I 
 Jo wish you wouldn't hurry us along quite so 
 
 145 
 
146 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 fast!'' At which, the old man laughed till the 
 rafters rang. 
 
 So this was Father Time! I had never seen 
 him before, and I had not noticed the hour-glass 
 by his side. But I had always thought he was a 
 surly fellow, and instead, he was one of the jol- 
 liest, kindest-looking old gentlemen I have ever 
 seen. 
 
 On the people passed, young and old. And 
 Father Time was handing them rolls of parch- 
 ment, with the seal of the King attached. These 
 were their orders, and as they read them, they 
 knew just what their Lord required them to do. 
 
 As there was no chance of a word with the old 
 man just then, I went outside, where some of the 
 folk were talking about their orders. One man 
 was saying, *'I hoped for something quite differ- 
 ent, but I have to go back to the same work I 
 have been doing for years.'' While a lady who 
 had been busy tending the wounded, was now go- 
 ing back to her work at home. 
 
 Then I saw two children, and as I love girls 
 and boys, I went up to them to see what they had 
 to do, for they both looked rather disappointed. 
 
 **What have I got!" the boy said to his sister. 
 *^I've got the miserables! Here, I wanted to be a 
 sailor and go off looking for a treasure island, and 
 Father Time has given me a lot of geography to 
 learn, and a whole lot of sums. And I just hate 
 sums! What have you got!" 
 
 ^*0h, he's given me a lot of needlework to do, 
 and a lot of horrid spelling to learn. I detest 
 sewing, and as for these silly old words — And I 
 wanted to be a hospital nurse I It isn't fair!" 
 
THE HELPERS 14.T 
 
 **Hear, hear!" said someone. And a most 
 untidy little fellow came pushing up to the chil- 
 dren. ^ ^ I agree ! Say, let 's be friends, ' ' 
 
 **But who are you?" asked the boy. 
 
 '^What the little girl said: ^Tisn't Fair— that's 
 my name. I don't hold with lessons and all that. 
 Seems to me that we oughtn 't to have to do things 
 we don't like. And that's just what C. B. says 
 too!" 
 
 *^Who is C. B.?" questioned the girl, for up to 
 this she had not been able to get in a word. 
 
 ^' Who's C. BJ Why, don't you know him? 
 He's my cousin, Mr. Dunn. Can't B. Dunn — 
 that's his full name. Old Father Time doesn't 
 care for us. Says we will never do any good in 
 this world. But then, what's the use of worrying? 
 We please ourselves, and that's something. If 
 you'd like to stay and live with us, I think 
 you " 
 
 ^^ Excuse me," said another little fellow, rais-* 
 ing his cap very politely, *'but I have been sent 
 by Father Time to see if I can be of any service 
 to you. Please do not have anything to do with 
 that boy. He is always making mischief, and he 
 does more to hinder people with their work than 
 you would believe. But, I'm sorry, I haven't 
 told you who I am. My name is Timothy — Tim- 
 othy Try, at your service." 
 
 **We are very glad you came," chimed in the 
 little girl. **We were both feeling rather dis- 
 couraged, and in fact, I felt like giving my work 
 back to Father Time and telling him I couldn't 
 do it." 
 
 **Ah!" said Timothy. *'That is just how that 
 
148 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 fellow makes people feel. It is a good thing you 
 did not meet his cousin — Can't B. Dunn/' 
 
 '^But we heard about him," cried the boy. *^I 
 should think those two are the worst discouragers 
 there ever were ! ' ' 
 
 ^'That is why we are here. Dear me, I didn't 
 tell you about Percy." 
 
 *^ Percy who?" asked the children, both at once. 
 
 ^^Why, my brother-helper, Percy Verance." 
 
 *'Say," the boy broke in, *^he isn't a foreigner, 
 is he! It sounds a queer name." 
 
 "Foreigner! Not he. He's loyal to the back- 
 bone. We both are. If you are in any kind of 
 difficulty, all you have to do is to clap your hands 
 three times, like they do in the Arabian Nights, 
 and we will be there to help — one at each elbow!" 
 
 ''Timothy Try and Percy Verance!" the chil- 
 dren cried, and they laughed so gleefully that I 
 woke up. 
 
 Who could they be! Then I remembered that 
 when good old Father Time sets us a task, no 
 matter how hard it is Try and Perseverance are 
 two helpers who have never been known to fail. 
 
XXXVI 
 THE QUAERELSOME GIANTS 
 
 MAPS are useful in many ways, and if you 
 look at one of Ireland, it may help you to 
 understand this story better. On the east coast, 
 you will find a cape marked Howth Head. It is 
 near to Dublin. And ages and ages ago, so an 
 Irishman told me, a giant lived on this very 
 headland. 
 
 He was a monstrous fellow (the giant, I mean), 
 and not as good-tempered as you are, for he had a 
 silly way of getting cross for scarcely nothing at 
 all. 
 
 Now on Bray Head, 14 miles farther south, 
 stood the castle of another giant, and although 
 the distance seems so great to us, it was not much 
 to these mighty men. The result was, not only 
 could they see one another quite well, but one 
 could actually hear the spiteful things his rival 
 on the other headland might be saying. 
 
 That was rather a pity. We can often avoid a 
 quarrel when we won't hear the unkind words 
 that other children sometimes use, and at any 
 rate, it always takes two to make a quarrel. 
 
 Well, these two giants were always snarling 
 and quarrelling. One day, the Dublin giant was 
 more tantalising than usual, and he said, quite 
 loudly, so that the other could hear, that Bray 
 
 149 
 
150 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 was the right place for a giant who could do it 
 so well ! 
 
 At that, the giant of Bray picked up a huge 
 piece of rock, bigger than your house, and he 
 hurled it at his foe, 14 miles away. But he was 
 not nearly as strong as he thought, for instead of 
 hitting the other giant, the rock fell in the sea, 
 mid-way between the two headlands. And there 
 it made an island, called Dalkey Island, which 
 you can also find on your map. 
 
 The Dublin giant was greatly amused at his 
 rivaPs temper, and he shouted, *'You are a funny 
 fellow! When the children hear about us, they 
 will think we are the silliest giants in history! 
 Temper doesn't show strength! It only makes us 
 do things we can 't undo ! ' ' 
 
 *'What do you meanf asked the other giant, 
 still a bit angry. 
 
 '^Why, you Ve left that rock there for people to 
 see how we used to behave, and perhaps some 
 ship will run on it in the dark and be wrecked. '^ 
 
 **I never thought of that,'' replied Bray. So 
 he strode into the sea, meaning to carry the rock 
 back to the land again. But the water had made 
 it so slippery that he could not get hold of it 
 properly. 
 
 Now the other giant had come to see what was 
 going on, and he had a try. Then they both tried, 
 but it was no use. And there the rock remains 
 to this day! 
 
 Well, seeing that they could not move it, the 
 giants stood for a minute wondering what to do. 
 Then Dublin said to the other, ** Leave it! Let us 
 shake hands and be friends! That rock will re- 
 
THE QUARRELSOME GIANTS 151 
 
 mind us that we ought to use our strength not 
 to harm one another, but to help someone from 
 this time on!'' 
 
 So the other said, * ' Righto ! ' ' And the compact 
 was made. 
 
 Do good with all your heart and might; 
 Do good, be good, from mom till night, 
 Let voice be kind and face be bright; 
 Do good, be good ! That's all I 
 
XXXVII 
 THE PATHFINDER 
 
 THERE is a picture that you may have seen. 
 It is of a boy, who is standing in a room, and 
 he is somewhat strangely dressed. He has a wide- 
 brimraed hat, just like a rancher from the Wild 
 West, a khaki shirt and short breeches, while from 
 his belt hangs a large knife. 
 
 You have guessed what he isf Eight! first 
 time. He is a boy-scout. 
 
 He has a map in front of him, and he has been 
 busy tracing out the track for his troop, for he 
 is the pathfinder. That is why the artist has 
 given his picture that title. 
 
 But while busy looking out the way for others 
 to take, a thought has occurred to him. He needs 
 a guide to show him the way through life if he 
 is to be a true man and to prove a help to others. 
 And there by the boy's side, the Guide appears. 
 
 He is clad in a long, white robe. He holds a 
 staff in his hand, and the sandals show that he 
 is ready for the road. So he has laid his hand 
 on the boy's shoulder, and he is saying in the 
 scout's ears, **I will show thee the path of life! 
 . . . I am the way!" 
 
 The look on the lad's face plainly shows that 
 
 152 
 
THE PATHFINDER 153 
 
 not only lias he heard, but he has resolved to fol- 
 low this Leader as long as life lasts. 
 
 That boy is like a brave man who had to pass 
 through all kinds of dangerous places, and who 
 travelled to strange cities on service for his king. 
 He always had to depend upon the Pathfinder, 
 and that man, whose name was Paul, never found 
 Him to fail. 
 
 There was another who went through the 
 jungles and swamps of Central Africa, who even 
 penetrated where no other white man had ever 
 been, for he was doing the same kind of work as 
 Paul. And David Livingstone knew how the 
 Guide was always going before him to open up 
 his way. 
 
 So you will do great things in the world and 
 for your fellow-men. You will bring a smile to 
 sad faces, and sunshine to many a shadowed soul. 
 And what is more, if you follow the Pathfinder 
 you will at last reach the City of the Great King. 
 
XXXVIII 
 OUR DAILY BREAD 
 
 RONALD came down two stairs at a time, and 
 as soon as lie reached the table, he called 
 out, '* What's for brek, Mummie? I'm awfully 
 hungry ! ' ' 
 
 Mother smiled as she said, **You mean 
 very^ don't you?" She was always smiling ex- 
 cept when she was very tired, and even then, the 
 smile got through a bit. ** There's miracle for 
 breakfast, for one thing!" 
 
 The boy looked puzzled, but he guessed that his 
 mother must have something good when she talked 
 like that. He asked, ^^What is it?" 
 
 She held up a . No 1 I must not tell you 
 
 yet. 
 
 '^But I don't call that a miracle," said Ronald. 
 ^^Why, it's only " 
 
 ^^Why that ^only'f Do you remember that 
 day when people were so hungry; and Jesus 
 took a few loaves and blessed them; then fed all 
 those people? That was a miracle. Don't you 
 think it is a bigger miracle to feed all the people 
 in the world! Yes, and especially when some of 
 them are boys like you with such appetites!" 
 
 ' ^ I never thought of that, ' ' replied Ronald. * * It 
 is rather wonderful when you think of it. ' ' 
 
 154 
 
OUR DAILY BREAD 156 
 
 '*It is/' mother said, ^'and it is even more 
 wonderful when you think of this : 
 
 " 'Back of the loaf is the snowy flour, 
 Back of the flour, the mill; 
 Back of the mill is the wheat and shower. 
 And the sun, and the Father's will.' " 
 
 *^Say! Did you make that up, MummieT' 
 ^^Oh, no!'' she replied, ^^but it's true." 
 Ronald was now so busy with his breakfast that 
 he could not talk much, for his mouth was full, 
 and of course, we never talk then. So his mother 
 had it all to herself for she could see that the boy 
 was interested. 
 
 ^'The grain comes from all over the world — 
 Canada, America, Australia, Russia — And where 
 else, father?" But father was busy behind his 
 newspaper. 
 
 ^'Men we have never seen, sow the seed after 
 having ploughed and prepared the ground. Then 
 while men rest, God takes a turn. The sun, the 
 showers, the soil, the dew are all God's servants, 
 and they help. Then it is the men's turn again, 
 and the reaping time comes. The railway men 
 lend a hand, and our sailors bring it along the 
 great ocean ways to our ports. 
 
 ' ' The miller is ready to do his part. The grain 
 is taken up into the mill, where it is carried along 
 swift-moving belts. It passes over powerful mag- 
 nets that take out any pieces of metal or nails 
 that may have got among the grain. The wash- 
 ing comes next, so that all the bits of soil and 
 gravel that made a home for the grain while it 
 was growing are carried away. And then it goes 
 
156 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 through one machine after another till the rough 
 covering is taken off the grain, and the pure white 
 flour is seen. 
 
 *^ While we are fast asleep, the bakers are 
 busy making that white flour into nice brown, 
 crusty loaves. And when we cut them up into 
 slices and eat them, the cornfield becomes brain 
 and muscle and life to us all. What do you think 
 of that? Isn't bread a miracle T' 
 
 And Ronald, busy though he was with the mir- 
 acle, replied, ' ' I should just think it is ! I Ve never 
 thought of that before ! ' ' 
 
 There are many of us just like that boy. We 
 have never thought of it, or if we have thought 
 where our bread comes from, we never get past 
 the baker's shop. We must look beyond the shop, 
 past the mill, past the fields, right up to God, and 
 say: 
 
 *^We thank Thee for our daily bread, 
 For seed-time, harvest, sun and rain; 
 For garners full as Thou hast said. 
 For ships that brought it o'er the main. 
 
 "Dear Lord, accept our praise to-day, 
 And heavenly manna may we eat, 
 That boldly we may tread life's way; 
 Then cast our crowns before Thy feet.^' 
 
XXXIX 
 
 THE EED REBEL 
 
 NO one can measure the miscliief that this little 
 fellow did. He lived in a cave with strong, 
 white gates at the entrance, and these gates could 
 be shut in an instant. So the rebel dwelt secure, 
 and few ever got near him. But they heard of his 
 doings nevertheless. 
 
 He delighted in making trouble. People on 
 their way to or from the market, would often be 
 stopped to hear strange tales about the unkind- 
 ness of some of their friends, and so a lot of need- 
 less jealousy and unhappiness was caused, for I 
 must tell you what these people did not know: 
 these tales were not true. 
 
 At other times, the rebel would go about mak- 
 ing people cross by saying all the nasty, spiteful 
 things he could think of. And so more unpleas- 
 antness would be caused. In fact, the rebel was 
 happiest when he was making mischief. 
 
 If the people had been as sensible as you, they 
 would not have listened to such idle tales. They 
 would have believed the best of everyone, and 
 gone on their way. 
 
 Now it is only fair to say that the rebel who 
 thus wrought such harm by disobeying his prince 
 did not always mean to do it. If he had stopped 
 
 157 
 
158 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 to think, he might not have acted in that way 
 at all. But there ! He did not think, and so there 
 was endless trouble. 
 
 The people at last could stand it no longer, so 
 they sent word to the prince, and one day a mes- 
 senger arrived at the rebePs cave. He was just 
 in time to hear for himself what the rebel was 
 Hke. 
 
 Mr. Rebel was just inside his cave, calling out 
 rude names to the passers-by, and jeering and 
 snarling by turns, like some fierce watch-dog. So 
 the messenger waited, surprised and sad, till the 
 fit was over. Then he approached the cave and 
 said, *^ Don't you think that you are both foolish 
 and wrong to go on like this 1 I don 't wonder that 
 people call you the Red Rebel ! You are a perfect 
 nuisance to everyone who comes within sound of 
 you ! ' ' 
 
 The rebel was losing his temper again when 
 he suddenly thought, by the uniform the man 
 wore, that perhaps he had come from the palace, 
 so he swallowed the angry words and said, '*Why 
 do you call me that 1 I 'm not a rebel ! ' ' 
 
 ^^You may not think you are, but you are be- 
 cause you don't think! When you speak angrily 
 or unkindly, you are not only breaking the 
 prince's laws but you are also breaking his heart. 
 But there! I have not come to lecture you. I 
 am the bearer of a message from the prince. He 
 wants you to enter his service, so that you need 
 never be called rebel again." 
 
 * * But what does he want me to do I " asked the 
 other, feeling more ashamed than he wanted the 
 messenger to see. 
 
THE RED REBEL 159 
 
 *^You can serve the prince by being Truthful^ 
 Obliging, Nice to everyone, Gentle, Uncomplain- 
 ing, and Encouraging. If you will give me your 
 promise to be that, then he will confer a new title 
 on you.'^ 
 
 * ' Very well ! I ^1 promise. What is the title ? ' ^ 
 
 **What I have said. You will find that the 
 first letter of each word spells T-O-N-G-U-E. 
 That is the name by which the prince wants you 
 to be known.'' 
 
 **Well, it certainly sounds better than rebel!'' 
 And henceforth, the man in the red cave with the 
 ivory gates tried to please his prince. 
 
 We have all seen the cave and we know who 
 lives in it. We must see to it that instead of being 
 a rebel, its occupant always does the bidding of 
 the prince. 
 
XL 
 GLUM OR GLAD? 
 
 CARRIO was cross ! Because he had a holiday, 
 of course it must rain, and the picnic was 
 off ! So he stood at the window looking out, and 
 making himself utterly miserable. 
 
 Mother suggested that he should get his Mec- 
 cano and build something, but he didn't want to 
 do that. He wanted to go out ! And even when 
 the rain pattered against the panes to attract his 
 attention, and the drops said, ''Watch us have a 
 race down the window,'' that was no good. He 
 grumbled worse than ever. 
 
 When dinner-time came, you can guess how he 
 looked. His face was all puckered up and the 
 corners of his mouth were down. If little folk 
 knew what they look like when they are cross, they 
 would not get peevish again. 
 
 Carrio didn't want any dinner. He grumbled 
 at the meat. He grumbled at the pudding. And 
 he was just beginning another growl when mother 
 said, *'Why, it has stopped raining! I believe 
 it is going to clear up. You will be able to go out 
 this afternoon, and I would like you to leave some 
 eggs at old Mrs. Dawson's, down in the village. 
 She has been so ill, and '' 
 
 ' ' I don 't want to ! It 's no good going out now, " 
 broke in Carrio. 
 
 160 
 
GLUM OR GLAD? 161 
 
 *^But whjV^ asked his mother. **You were 
 grumbling all morning because you could not go 
 out, and now you don 't want to ! You are a boy ! 
 Never mind ! I will leave the eggs myself. I had 
 a little surprise for you; but it doesn't matter!'* 
 
 Carrio slouched off to the breakfast-room, glum 
 as could be. *'I'm sick of everything!'' he ex- 
 claimed. "There! it's school again to-morrow. 
 I hate it!" And he went on like this until bed- 
 time, making everyone nearly as miserable as 
 himself. 
 
 He was just in bed when a visitor arrived, and 
 a queer visitor he was! A strange little man 
 jumped on the bed, and cried, "Hello, Glum! 
 You've had a grand time to-day. I've heard yon. 
 Now you must come with me!" 
 
 "But I don't want. ..." Carrio began. 
 
 "No ^buts,' my boy! I'm going to give yon 
 the chance of your life." 
 
 The boy, seeing he could not help himself, got 
 up, and they went on until they came to a hospital. 
 They entered a long room filled with beds. "Hop 
 in here !" said the man, stopping beside one of the 
 beds. "You were complaining to-day about go- 
 ing out. Change places with this little chap here ; 
 there's something the matter with his back, and 
 he can never go out to run and jump like you can. 
 I think it is just the thing for you to change with 
 him!" 
 
 ^ ^ I didn 't mean that, ' * said Carrio. * * Please let 
 me go back, and I'll never grumble about going 
 out again." 
 
 "Well, next time you feel like grumbling, I 
 want you to say, * Shall I be glum or gladT " 
 
162 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 *'Yes, I'll promise," Carrio agreed. 
 
 *^ Right! We'll go. No, not that way. We 
 haven 't done yet ! ' ' 
 
 They came to a poor room where a weak woman 
 was working a sewing-machine, and she was just 
 saying to her two hungry children, *^Be brave, 
 dearies. As soon as I finish this work we shall 
 have some money, and then I '11 get something for 
 you to eat. Won't that be good!" 
 
 *^ Strikes me this is just the place for you, 
 Carrio. No dinners to grumble about here ! ' ' 
 
 But the boy, almost in tears, said, *^Let me go 
 back. You know I've promised." 
 
 **What! Glum or glad! Good! But we haven't 
 finished yet!" 
 
 This time it was a hot country, where the people 
 were savage and ignorant. *^Just the place for 
 you, my boy ! ' ' said the guide again. * * No schools, 
 not even a Sunday School, though you may get a 
 few thrashings a day to make up for it. A fine 
 country for a grumbler like you!" 
 
 * ' Please take me back. I see now what a little 
 beast I've been, and I'll never grumble at any- 
 thing again." 
 
 *^A11 right! Then it's a bargain. If you feel 
 like complaining about anything again, you'll 
 ask, * Shall I be glum or glad?' Then see that 
 Glad gets it every time!" 
 
XLI 
 
 THE WIZAED OF THE WOODS 
 
 rpHE wizard was sitting in his hut, warming his 
 -■■ hands over a tiny fire and looking very mys- 
 terious, when three strangers approached. 
 
 They bowed low, and said, ^^0 wisest and most 
 wonderful of men, we would ask a boon.'' 
 
 The aged man rubbed the smoke from his eyes 
 evidently well pleased at the men's words, and 
 said, ''And what is the boon ye crave?" 
 
 ''I want to be wealthy," said the first, ''with a 
 fine house and a large number of servants." 
 
 "Indeed!" came the answer. "Many a time 
 have I heard that, but only he is rich who uses the 
 gifts of life aright. Here are three bags. Look 
 well, choose well, use well; so shalt thou be 
 great!" 
 
 The man looked at the bags to which the wizard 
 pomted. One was small but it was full of rubies. 
 The second was larger, and full of gold coins. 
 While the third was larger still, and was heaped 
 up with grain. 
 
 "I can soon make up my mind," said the man 
 to himself, so turning to the wizard he said, "I 
 am not greedy, so I will take the smallest bag— 
 the one with the rubies." And having made his 
 choice, he stood aside. 
 
 It was now the turn of the second man. <'I 
 
 163 
 
164 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 want to be rich too, but I am willing to work for 
 my wealth. There is nothing I would like better 
 than to be a prosperous merchant. Can you help 
 mer' 
 
 **Rich and prosperous!'' remarked the wizard, 
 looking very wise. **Well, thou shalt have the 
 same chance as thy friend.'' So putting another 
 bag beside the tv/o he said, ' ' Here are three bags 
 as before. Look well, choose well, use well: that 
 is the secret of prosperity." 
 
 *' Rubies are not much use to me," thought the 
 man, ^^and grain is less. If I take the gold, I can 
 buy goods to trade with, and then I can obtain 
 precious stones if I want them, and as much 
 grain as my family needs." So he chose the bag 
 of gold. 
 
 The last man came in the same way, and three 
 bags were set before him so that he could have 
 the same chance as the others. ^^I think I will 
 take the grain," he said. *^I want to be useful 
 as well as wealthy, and people will expect me to 
 do good with thy gift, most wise! Besides, if 
 I plant the grain, perchance when my harvest is 
 sold, I shall be able to get both gold and gems." 
 
 The men returned to their own land, each very 
 well pleased with himself, and lest they should 
 forget what the wise wizard had said, they kept 
 mumbling, ^^ Choose well, use well; so shalt thou 
 be great!" 
 
 When they got back, the man with the rubies, 
 knowing that they were valuable, put such a high 
 price on them that no one could afford to buy 
 them, and as he was in a hurry to get rich, he 
 would not alter the price. Consequently, he had 
 
THE WIZARD OF THE WOODS 165 
 
 to hoard them until some wealthy buyer of pre- 
 cious stones should happen to come along. So he 
 remained poor. 
 
 The other, who had chosen the gold pieces, was 
 laughing to himself. *^ Serves him right! Who 
 wants rubies when winter is coming on! I have 
 a better plan than his. I know what I shall do.'' 
 
 He bought a lot of cloth and costly robes, and 
 because he too was anxious to get rich quickly, 
 he put a high price on all his goods. But when 
 the people came to look they said, ' ' They are very 
 fine, but garments that are not so beautiful will 
 keep out the cold just as well. We must wait till 
 times are better before we can afford clothes like 
 these." So the man had to keep his stock and 
 wait. 
 
 Meanwhile, the man with the grain had sown 
 it, and when autumn came, the harvest was very 
 bountiful. He kept back a part of it for his own 
 use, and next season he planted the rest of the 
 seed again. The crops were better still. So he 
 sold his grain that the people might have bread, 
 and they blessed him, for they had known what it 
 was to be hungry. They could live without gems 
 and without costly robes, for they still had their 
 home-spun, but bread they must have. 
 
 As time went on, the two who were thinking of 
 themselves and their hoped-for riches found them- 
 selves getting poorer and poorer, for with their 
 idle dreams and their shops to mind, they could 
 not settle to work. While he who wanted to be of 
 service to others had gold pieces and rubies as 
 well. He had something even more precious. He 
 had gained the love of the poor folk who ate the 
 
166 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 bread of his harvests, and he had discovered the 
 joy of doing good. In choosing well, using well, 
 he had learned wisdom, and one wiser even than 
 the wizard says that *' wisdom is more precious 
 than rubies.'' 
 
 The sure way to happiness is to sow seeds of 
 kindness, for the harvest is always plentiful. And 
 the wizard's word to little folk is ^^Look well, 
 choose well, use well; so shalt thou please God, 
 and so shalt thou be great ! ' ' 
 
XLII 
 PLAYING THE GAME 
 
 TWO men were toiling over some rough ground. 
 It was full of lumps and hollows and the men 
 seemed rather hot and tired. Each had a bag of 
 sticks slung over his shoulders. These they would 
 occasionally lay down and then, taking them up 
 again, proceed on their way. 
 
 Now this sounds as though they were wood- 
 pickers, gathering firewood for winter, or anxious 
 to get something to sell, but we saw that really 
 they were playing a game, and getting a good deal 
 of fun out of it too. They were using the sticks 
 or clubs to strike two little white balls, and while 
 other children might need to have it explained, 
 you are clever enough to know that these men 
 were playing Golf. 
 
 We are just as keen as they were on playing 
 the game, and so we must first remind ourselves 
 that in the game of life, there are rules that must 
 be followed. What we call rules, might be better 
 named the will of God for each one of us. And 
 if we would be successful, and play the game as 
 we ought, then we must learn to obey. What is 
 that but doing what we know to be right? And 
 what is doing right, but being good from day to 
 day? No one likes to play with a boy who cheats, 
 
 167 
 
168 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 or with a girl that does not play fairly, and every 
 true soul, rendering cheerful obedience to God's 
 loving will, finds that life is full of joy and glad- 
 ness. So the first thing in the game of life is 
 Goodness, 
 
 Then we noticed that these men were playing 
 from point to point, according to certain num- 
 bers, for on a golf course, there are 18 holes or 
 goals, to which the ball must be driven. You can- 
 not go from No. 1 to No. 4, nor from No. 9 to 
 No. 6. You must play right on in the order laid 
 down, no matter how difficult it may be. The 
 points are connected by a narrow path, worn 
 smooth by the feet of the good players, and the 
 nearer you can keep to the straight line, not only 
 the better you play, but the more easy it will be 
 to win. 
 
 Whenever people turn aside from the straight 
 line of conduct, they find themselves '*in trouble*' 
 as the golfers would say. That means, there are 
 long grass, furze bushes, or holes, into which the 
 ball drops, and that means a good deal of effort 
 to get it back on to the smooth places again. But 
 if you keep to the fairway, then it is a lot easier 
 to reach the mark for which you are playing. 
 
 You know how an ostrich runs when it is being 
 chased? It zig-zags from one side to another, 
 and while it runs very smftly, and covers a lot 
 of ground, yet by riding in a straight line, the 
 hunter can readily outstrip it. And in playing 
 the game of life, as well as Golf, the nearer you 
 can keep to the line of right, the better will you 
 succeed. So we lay down our second rule: 
 Rectitude. 
 
PLAYING THE GAME 169 
 
 While these two men were playing, one made 
 a tremendous blow at the ball, but while his club 
 swung round, the ball remained just where it was. 
 ^'Keep your eye on the ball!" cried his friend. 
 And that means a good deal. If you want to hit 
 the ball, you must keep your eye fastened on it 
 as it lies on the ground. And if you want to find 
 it after you have struck it, you must watch it as 
 it flies through the air and then falls into the 
 grass. Otherwise, it means loss of time, some- 
 times loss of temper, and a lost ball too. 
 
 There are other things you must also look 
 after : The way in which you stand, the way you 
 wield the club, the direction of the flag that marks 
 the hole for which you are playing; and as you 
 remember, the Bible says that we are to run the 
 race or play the game of life, ''Looking unto 
 Jesus," for He is our Example and our Goal. So 
 let us add Faith, 
 
 All this means practice. Nothing worth doing 
 can be done without effort and continued prac- 
 tice. A great pianist once said that, although he 
 could play well, if he did not practise constantly, 
 he would lose his skill. "If I did not play for a 
 whole day I would know it ; if I left the piano alone 
 for two days, the critics would know it; and if 
 I left it for three days, the public who listen to 
 me would know that I had not been keeping up my 
 work ! ' ' 
 
 What is true of music, is true of trying to be 
 kind, striving to follow our Lord's example, or 
 of doing right. The game of life will suffer. So 
 another rule for success is: Look how you are 
 playing, and keep your eye on the ball. 
 
170 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 Then of course, we must *'Play the game/' 
 That means, we must be absolutely fair. There 
 are some people who put fun before fairness, and 
 think that some of the rules can be ignored. But 
 in the game of Golf, although there are any num- 
 ber of sandy holes, called bunkers, and obstacles 
 that make playing more difficult, it is the player 
 who takes things as they come, and never tries 
 to skip any difficulty who not only gets most fun 
 out of the game, but who also increases his skill. 
 
 We all have to face obstacles and difficulties. 
 Lessons are not always easy to learn, temptations 
 are hard to overcome, but when we set ourselves 
 to vanquish them, we can come out victorious. 
 When the Pilgrim in Bunyan's famous story came 
 to the Hill Difficulty, he found that there were 
 three paths. One skirted the hill on one side, 
 the other went round the other way, but the third 
 ran right up over the hill-top. So Christian took 
 a drink from the cool stream by the foot, and thus 
 refreshed, he started to climb. To his surprise, 
 he found that the hill was not nearly so steep 
 as it looked, for many others had gone that way 
 before, and made the path quite easy to follow. 
 And before he realised what he had done, he stood 
 at the top, and the obstacle that had seemed to be 
 more than he could conquer, lay beneath his feet. 
 He had kept to the right way. He had followed 
 the path of the pilgrim, and so we must put Per- 
 severance as our last rule. 
 
 Now look what we have ; as our guide for play- 
 ing the game : 
 
 Goodness— Obeying the laws of God. 
 Rectitude— Keeping to the right way. 
 
PLAYING THE GAME 171 
 
 Faith — Taking care what we do and how we do it. 
 Perseverance — Not only doing our best, but being our 
 best. 
 
 Do the right, do your duty, even when it is 
 hard, and you will find in this the gladness of 
 Playing the Game! And even though you may 
 not get a medal for your play, you will one day 
 have the Saviour's *^Well Done!*' and that is 
 worth everything. 
 
XLIII 
 WHY THE LEAVES FALL 
 
 THE pilgrim stood ready for the journey. He 
 had his wallet and staff. His feet were well- 
 shod. And as he waited by the wicket-gate, he 
 looked down the trail rather impatient that his 
 guide should be so long in coming. You see, he 
 was young and strong, and knowing a good deal 
 he felt that it was almost a waste of time to wait 
 as his father had bidden him. 
 
 Presently, he saw a man approaching. He was 
 clad in a bright green suit, and as he got near 
 he called out to the youth, *^ Waiting for meV^ 
 
 * * If you are the guide, I am, ' ^ replied the youth. 
 *^I thought you were never coming!" 
 
 At that, the other laughed pleasantly. ^^ That's 
 quite all right! I'm generally a bit late. They 
 call me Spring.'' 
 
 *'And where are we going!" asked the youth. 
 
 *'A great way, and a straight way, but the end 
 is the palace of the king ! I can go with you only* 
 part of the way, however, and then I must hand 
 you over to one of my brothers." 
 
 They set off, and as they went, it seemed as 
 though the world was brighter than it had ever 
 been. The lambs were frolicking in the meadows. 
 The trees put on their best clothes and waved 
 
 172 
 
WHY THE LEAVES FALL 173 
 
 their branches gaily as the pair passed, and the 
 tall reeds by the river gracefully bowed their 
 heads as though in homage. 
 
 ^^They all seem to know you/^ the pilgrim re- 
 marked. 
 
 "Of course they do. I forgot to mention the 
 fact, but I happen to be their prince. ' ' 
 
 So they journeyed on for a time. Then the 
 prince suddenly stopped. "I must leave you 
 here,'' he said. "This is as far as my kingdom 
 goes, and I must let my brother take you across 
 the frontier.'' And even as he spoke, another 
 prince approached, coming out of the wood. 
 
 He was more handsome than the first, for he 
 had golden curls that danced in the light, and his 
 robes were a soft, shimmering green. 
 
 "Let me introduce you," said the first prince. 
 "This is the pilgrim youth who journeys far." 
 And turning to the other he added, ' ' And this is 
 my brother, the Prince of Summerland. ' ' 
 
 The youth bade his guide farewell, and started 
 on the second stage of his travels. 
 
 "Where are we going?" he asked of his new 
 friend. 
 
 And the prince said, just as the first had done, 
 "A great way, and a straight way, but the end 
 is the palace of the king. ' ' 
 
 They toiled on, and now the sun was very hot 
 so that the pilgrim found that even the small 
 bundle he carried was getting heavier and 
 heavier. The sun's rays smote his head and 
 scorched his back, till he was glad to lean against 
 a rock and rest awhile. 
 
 The prince spoke to the leaves, and spreading 
 
174 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 themselves out as mucli as they could, they af- 
 forded more shelter for the travellers so that they 
 could take their way again. But the path, though 
 it lay through the woods, was now getting steeper 
 and steeper, stonier and stonier. So the pilgrim 
 said to his guide, ^ * It is verily a great way, and a 
 straight way. . . .'' 
 
 ^^Yes,'^ added the other quickly, **but the end 
 is the palace of the king!'* 
 
 *'But I am getting weary,'' said the youth. **I 
 fear that I must be getting old ! And look at my 
 sandals ! ' ' 
 
 He pointed to the stout sandals with which he 
 had commenced the journey. They were worn 
 and cut with the sharp stones, while one foot was 
 badly scraped above the ankle. 
 
 *^ Cheer up!" the prince said. '^We shall soon 
 meet my brother who is going with you for the 
 next part of the way. Perhaps he can suggest 
 something about your sandals. He is older than 
 I, and he is as wise as he is good, and that is 
 saying a lot ! " 
 
 ^*Will he be here soon?" The pilgrim seemed 
 better at asking questions than at travelling. 
 
 ^*Why, here he comes!" was the answer. 
 
 There stood a fine-looking man clad in a mantle 
 of golden brown, and his face was as merry as 
 the sun. **Well, you have come then!" he called 
 out. **I have been waiting for you. And is this 
 the traveller? But I understood he was quite 
 young!" 
 
 ^^I was when I started," replied the youth, '*but 
 your brothers spake truly that it is a great way. 
 Just look at my sandals!" 
 
WHY THE LEAVES FALL 175 
 
 **0]i, that is all right! The way is ever so 
 much better farther along, and we must see what 
 we can do." 
 
 Away they went, but the traveller looked for 
 the other prince only to find that he had slipped 
 away. 
 
 ^ ^ Where is my brother 1 ^ ' echoed the newcomer. 
 ^ * Oh, Summer is always like that. You never know 
 when you have him. He's quite a good fellow, 
 but he slips off before you know.'' 
 
 ^^I'm afraid I cannot go any farther," the pil- 
 grim remarked after a time. ^^I was hot before, 
 but my teeth are beginning to chatter now with 
 the cold wind. I'm really so co-co-cold! And my 
 feet are sore!" 
 
 Be was quite right. They had been mounting 
 all the time, till now they were on the high slopes 
 of a hill, where the winds cut through one like a 
 knife. 
 
 The young man looked so sorry for himself that 
 the heart of the prince was moved, and he said, 
 '^Wait a minute! I think I can do something!" 
 So he spoke to the trees, and they cast their golden 
 leaves till the stony track was covered with a 
 soft, thick carpet. And what is more, through the 
 bare branches, the sun now shone quite warmly, 
 so that the cold winds lost their sting. 
 
 "Now we can get along," the prince said. 
 
 "I can manage this fine," the pilgrim cried with 
 delight. ' * The path is quite soft now. Was that 
 your own idea?" 
 
 "Oh, quite," he replied. "I have often been 
 along here with travellers, and by the time they 
 get this far after being with my brother, Summer, 
 
176 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 they generally feel like you did — as though they 
 could not go another step. And so the Good 
 Father sends me to cheer and help them in any 
 way I can. I suppose that you have found this 
 out by now, that for every stage of the journey 
 of life, there is some special help .and blessing. 
 And when the way is rough and the wind blows 
 cold. Autumn always carpets the path with leaves 
 to make it softer for weary feet, and helps the sun 
 to brighten the way. . . . Look there!'' 
 
 The traveller did as the prince bade him, and 
 lo! the road that stretched out before him was 
 turned to gold as the sun touched the fallen leaves. 
 
 ' ^ At the end of this track, just by that ivy-clad 
 tree, my brother — there are four of us altogether 
 ■ — ^will take you the rest of the way. He will be 
 here soon, and you will easily know him, for 
 I cannot wait. He will be dressed in white. His 
 name is Prince Winter. But though it is a great 
 way, and a straight way, the end is the palace of 
 the king! Now, I think I must go. Good-bye.'' 
 
 The pilgrini trudged on, thinking how the good 
 hand of God had blessed him every step of the 
 way. And that is why, from that time ever since, 
 Autumn carpets the way with its golden leaves, 
 and the sun makes the track shine that the heart 
 of the traveller may be glad. 
 
 ^^It's a great way, and a straight way, but the 
 end is the palace of the king ! ' ' 
 
XLIV 
 
 CHRYSANTHEMUMS 
 
 ONCE upon a time, ages and ages ago, the 
 sprites had finished their work and they re- 
 turned to Wonderland. They had been busy from 
 the beginning of Spring, tending the flowers that 
 gladdened the earth. Now that winter was at 
 hand, they felt they deserved a rest. One of 
 the sprites, however, was very sad. She loved the 
 flowers, and she knew how dark and bare the 
 earth would iook without them. She loved the peo- 
 ple too, and felt that they would miss the blooms 
 she had secretly tended. Yet, was it any use being 
 sorry? What could she do? 
 
 It is very little use just saying we are sorry for 
 people unless we try to do something to help 
 them. So the sprite formed a little plan. 
 
 During the summer days, she had become 
 acquainted with a very old man, who loved every 
 flower in his garden. He would totter out with 
 the aid of his stick, and pointing to the beds, he 
 would say to himself, **They seem to remind us 
 about God, these flowers. I dread the days when 
 they are all over.'' 
 
 It was really this old man of whom the fairy 
 was thinking most. **He may think that God has 
 forgotten him," she said. ^*I must do some- 
 thing T' 
 
 177 
 
178 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 You know that in far-off Wonderland, glorious 
 fragrant flowers bloom all the year round. There 
 is neither autumn nor winter there. So one night, 
 the sprite took a number of plants and slipping 
 swiftly down a moonbeam, she came to earth. 
 Then she sped to the old man 's garden, and there 
 in secret, she planted the new kind of flower in 
 the beds. 
 
 The beds were damp! No wonder the flowers 
 shivered. The wind was blowing too, and it ruffled 
 all their petals till they looked as shaggy as a boy 
 who has forgotten to use the comb. But when at 
 last the sun got up and about, he smiled on their 
 pale, frightened faces, and the flowers turned to 
 a golden bronze. 
 
 When grandfather came down to breakfast, he 
 went to his cottage door to look at the weather as 
 he usually did, but he could hardly believe his eyes 
 as he caught sight of the strange blooms in his 
 garden. 
 
 **Well, I never! Flowers again! Why, they 
 are not only the colour of gold, but just as pre- 
 cious ! ' ' 
 
 The old gentleman was almost beside himself 
 with joy. He did not want any breakfast. And 
 when a neighbour passed on his way to work, he 
 called out to him to come and look ! 
 
 ' ^ Hello ! ' ' said the man. ^ ' I thought the flowers 
 were over. What do you call these? IVe never 
 seen anything like them before.'' 
 
 ^*I don't know their name, but I'll tell you what 
 I've christened them — the golden flower! Have 
 some ? ' ' And as he cut a few for his friend, the 
 old man went on, *^I should think the fairies must 
 
CHRYSANTHEMUMS 179 
 
 have brought them in the night! Isn't God good 
 to us!'^ 
 
 Strangely enough, that is just what the neigh- 
 bour was thinking, and later in the day, when he 
 saw the Chrysanthemums on his desk, he could 
 not help saying, ''Golden flowers! You make me 
 think of God!'' 
 
 This must have been the way those flowers got 
 their name, for there are two Greek words — one 
 is chrusos, which means, golden; and the other 
 is anthos, a flower. From these two words we get 
 the name. Chrysanthemum, the golden flowers 
 that brighten the wintry world. 
 
 The -flowers of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, 
 long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meek- 
 ness, self-control. Any in the garden of your 
 heart? 
 
XLV 
 THE GOOD SHEPHEED 
 
 AWAY in the highlands of Scotland, lived old 
 Tammas the shepherd. He was quite a 
 prosperous farmer, though you would never have 
 guessed it from his tiny cottage nor from the 
 rough homespun he wore. Having quite a large 
 number of sheep and not being as young as he 
 used to be, he had a shepherd to help him to look 
 after them, but this was one of those unpleasant 
 men who make a trouble of everything, and the 
 master and he often had words about it. 
 
 Well, the man came to the cottage one night 
 after driving the sheep back to the fold. The 
 flocks are usually able to take care of themselves 
 and except at shearing-time or when the winter 
 snows come, they wander about at their own sweet 
 will. But there was a storm brewing, and the 
 sheep had been brought down — all except one. 
 It was missing. The man could not tell Tammas 
 where it was or which it was : he rather thought 
 it was the sickly one with the black face. 
 
 Old Tam was like the Eastern shepherds in 
 this : he loved his sheep, not simply because they 
 were worth a lot of money to him, but because 
 they were his own. So he told his man that he 
 must go off and look for it. 
 
 The man went just as some children go when 
 180 
 
THE GOOD SHEPHERD 181 
 
 they have something to do which they dislike. He 
 scowled and he grumbled (not that you are ever 
 like that!), then he trudged up the hillside again 
 in search of the lost. 
 
 He was soon back. No! he had not found the 
 sheep. The fact was, his supper was ready, and 
 he knew that even though he were to spend an 
 hour looking for the sheep, he would not be paid 
 anything more at the end of the week, and he 
 thought more of that than anything else. 
 
 ^^It's nae use. The clouds are coming up, and 
 it looks like a bad night," he said, and leaving 
 Tammas as angry as could be, he went home. 
 
 There was no doubt about it: the old shepherd 
 was put out. He did not like to think of a sick 
 sheep on the hillside all night if, as it looked, 
 there was going to be a snowstorm. 
 
 **If Jock were only here. . . . He 'd have stayed 
 out half the night before he'd have given up." 
 
 But Jock was not there. 
 
 That made Tammas sadder still, for Jock was 
 his only son. He had been a foolish lad. He had 
 done something very wrong, and running away 
 from home, nothing had been heard of him for 
 months. 
 
 The old man went in and sat by the fire, think- 
 ing all the time about the sheep, yet telling him- 
 self that perhaps it would be all right. Should 
 he take his dog and range the hills till he found 
 it? 
 
 But his rheumatism was bad, and ... As he 
 looked up, he saw the snow was beginning to fall 
 thickly. Great flakes were swirling against the 
 windows while the wind was howling like some 
 
182 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 horrid witcli. It was going to be an awful night I 
 
 There was nothing to do now. Even if his wife 
 were sure, as she said she was, that the sheep 
 would get cover somewhere, there was the chance 
 Tam might slip over a precipice in the storm 
 should he venture out. 
 
 Before he went to bed that night, Tammas took 
 down the big old Bible as he always did, and by a 
 strange chance, it opened just at his favourite 
 chapter. You know the one; it is where it tells 
 about the Good Shepherd who went forth seeking 
 the lost sheep. So it was little wonder that when 
 the old man lay down, he could not sleep thinking 
 about what the other Shepherd had done and he 
 had not ! 
 
 It is always best to do what we think right 
 straight away. Tammas felt that, and at last he 
 could lie there no longer. Getting dressed, he 
 crept downstairs, and calling his dog, they set out. 
 
 The storm seemed to have abated a little, though 
 the snow pelted his face and almost blinded him, 
 while the wind seemed bent on pushing him back. 
 As he battled on, he could not help wondering 
 what his neighbours would think if they knew 
 that he had left his snug bed just for the sake of 
 a poor sickly sheep. *' They'd say I was clean 
 daft,'^ he muttered to himself, for it is quite cer- 
 tain that, unless they had been reading the same 
 story, they could never understand how he felt. 
 
 The dog was scouring the hill a little way ahead 
 as though he knew exactly what they had left the 
 warm house for, and the shepherd was calling to 
 him from time to time so that they should not 
 lose one another in the storm. 
 
THE GOOD SHEPHERD 183 
 
 ''What was that?'' The old man listened for 
 a moment, holding his plaid tightly about him. 
 ' * No ! it 's only the wind. Must be mistaken. ' ' 
 
 Tammas shouted again. 
 
 Yes ! There it was. There was no mistaking 
 that. Someone up there was answering, and 
 calling for help ! 
 
 The old man needed no urging. The snow had 
 ceased now, and a glint of the moon showing 
 through the scurrying clouds enabled him to 
 strike where he thought the track ought to be. 
 
 ^ Soon he came to a hollow in the shoulder of the 
 hill, and there was a dark something huddled 
 against the rock. 
 
 ''Hi, there! Who is it?'' 
 
 The glad bleat of a sheep answered him, and 
 then a man's voice said, ''Father!" 
 
 ' ' Why, it 's Jock ! Jock, ma ain laddie, what are 
 ye doing here ? Sakes but the lad 's wet through ! ' ' 
 
 ' ' I was coming home, father. Will you forgive ? 
 I had to take the track over the hills, and just 
 as the storm broke, I slipped, and my ankle's 
 sprained. I managed to crawl to the shelter of 
 this rock, and I was hoping that somebody might 
 come along in the morning. Here's one of our 
 sheep. She knew the call, and she's helped to 
 keep me from freezing. Was she straying?" 
 
 Day was nearly breaking when the three at 
 last reached the cottage, and a strange picture 
 they made. There was the shepherd, with a 
 bedraggled youth leaning on his arm as he hobbled 
 painfully along, while the sheep followed slowly, 
 stopping now and then to look for a tuft of grass 
 
184 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 yet always keeping near. But there was no one 
 to see, only the angels and God. 
 
 The dog had run back to the cottage. He had 
 barked so loudly and So long that the old wife 
 had come down to see what was the matter, and 
 when the little party got to the door, there was 
 such a welcome ! 
 
 The boy was back again. And as they sat be- 
 fore the fire, the old father was saying, * ' How did 
 I come to look for you, ma lad? But I didn't. 
 It was for the sheep. ... I was reading the 
 nicht aboot the Guid Shepherd — ^you ken fine what 
 I mean. And there was this one that Eob had left 
 up there, so I had to go. And I found you ! But 
 I'd rather have found you than a hundred!'' 
 
XLVI 
 THE POET AND THE POTTER 
 
 ASTEANGE old poet of Persia, when out 
 for a walk one evening, called at the potter's 
 workshop. The potter had just gone ont, and so 
 the poet decided to wait there till he returned. 
 The place was deserted, and the poet was sur- 
 prised to hear voices. He looked, and there, sure 
 enough, he discovered who it was. 
 
 Along the shelves round the shop, stood a num- 
 ber of half -finished vessels, of all shapes and sizes, 
 and they were chattering away to one another in 
 subdued tones: 
 
 ^^I think it is monstrous that I should be made 
 like this,'' said one. ^'A common water-jar! 
 Why, at least I should have been something orna- 
 mental. ' ' 
 
 **And you would have been an ornament to any 
 house," chimed in another, ^^for we are both of 
 the same glay. True, I am only a vase and that 
 does not quite jar one's nerves as you feel it, 
 but why didn't he do something worth while!" 
 He thought this rather a clever speech, but no one 
 noticed the point. 
 
 Several others joined in, lamenting that they 
 were not more slender and graceful, or that they 
 were so plain, when one huge vessel, evidently 
 very angry, exclaimed: 
 
 185 
 
186 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 **Wlio is the potter, pray, and who the potT' 
 
 Now the poet was beginning to feel rather out 
 of place, but not knowing whether he was ex- 
 pected to answer the question or not, he very 
 wisely resolved not to say anything, which made 
 the vessels decide he must be an extremely clever 
 fellow. But the question set him thinking. He 
 too, was like clay in the hands of the potter, and 
 many a time he had wondered why he was being 
 so shaped and what the purpose of it all could be. 
 
 We are the same. Each of us is as clay in the 
 hand of the potter, and if you were to watch a 
 potter at work, you would see that he has a great 
 many things to say to us. That cup and saucer 
 you used at breakfast, the plates on the table,, 
 have all come through the hands of the potter, and 
 they were shaped by his touch. At first, there 
 was only a ball of wet clay, spongy and soft like 
 dough. He would put this on a circular table, 
 driven by belting and revolving very rapidly, and 
 soon, instead of the shapeless mass, the clay would 
 rise up as though it were some magic tree, sprout- 
 ing in the sun. If it were the cup, you would see 
 him place his hands in the centre and hollow it 
 out ; then in a very short tune, there was the cup, 
 in its first stage. It had no handle, but it was 
 passed over to another man, who took a tiny piece 
 of clay, rolled it out on his board just like you 
 might do with Plasticine, and having made a 
 kind of worm with it, he cut off a short piece and 
 stuck it on the side, just where the handle is seen. 
 
 Then the cup was put with a lot of other cups, 
 all the same size and shape to dry, ready for the 
 next stage, which is baking. They are then put 
 
THE POET AND THE POTTER 187 
 
 into a huge oven like a lot of pies, and for forty 
 hours they have quite a warm time of it. Then 
 they are left to cool for two days, and the next 
 step is ready for them. This is the glazing. If 
 they were not finished with glaze, they would still 
 be porous, and the tea would ooze out, so they are 
 dipped into pans of liquid glaze, and then they are 
 baked again. 
 
 But cups are not very pretty unless there is 
 some design on them — flowers or lines — so they 
 go then to be painted, either by hand or to have 
 transfers put on them. Perhaps there is also to 
 be some gold, so this too must be added. And then 
 they go to be baked for the third time. When 
 they come out of the oven now, the gold will look 
 quite dark and dull, so it is burnished. Then the 
 gilt work shines brightly, just like real gold, and 
 when the cups stand on the breakfast table, they 
 reflect the light of the sun splendidly. Eighteen 
 ditf erent things are done to the china before it has 
 firuished its journey from the rough material to 
 the perfect cup. 
 
 We are clay in the hands of our Heavenly Pot- 
 ter, and we must see to it that we are responsive 
 to His touch so that we may be a vessel meet for 
 the Master's use. For while there are vessels for 
 all purposes, and of all shapes and sizes, yet if 
 we let Him do His will in us, we shall all be fit for 
 His service, and do something for Him. Of course, 
 in part, we can help to make our lives what He 
 wants them to be, for in the habits we form, the 
 kind actions we do, we are shaping our char- 
 acter. And so that the rough clay may be beauti- 
 ful to look upon, adorned with lovely lines or 
 
188 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 figures, there must be the painting of the Heaven- 
 ly Artist upon them, as well as the glaze — the 
 polish of good temper and good manners. 
 
 The lost art of porcelain enamel was redis- 
 covered by Bernard Palissy, a famous French 
 potter of the fifteenth century. He worked so long 
 trying to find the secret that his family was re- 
 duced to poverty, and even his furniture had been 
 burned to keep the fires going. At last, when he 
 discovered the ingredients that formed the com- 
 bination, he found he still wanted a piece of gold 
 to complete it, and it was only when his wife, 
 remembering her wedding-ring gave that in love 
 for her husband and his work, that success was 
 assured. 
 
 It costs a good deal to be all Christ wants us 
 to be, but He pays the greater part of the price. 
 He has made it possible for us to become like Him, 
 and when our lives are at last complete under 
 His hand, then there will be the gold of good hu- 
 mour, of kindness and love, and the beauty of 
 holiness shining in the character, so that we shall 
 grace the board of the Heavenly King. 
 
 We must try every day to be what our Lord 
 wants. And though we may have but the humble 
 service of being the cup that offers a draught of 
 cool water to the thirsty soul, our life shall not 
 be in vain. 
 
XLVII 
 EOBIN REDBEEAST 
 
 DO you know how the robins got their name? 
 What! you don't? Well, how did they come 
 to have red breasts? 
 
 Once upon a time, long before there were rail- 
 ways, there was a traveller whose way ran among 
 the lonely mountains, and having heard that there 
 were robbers lurking there — at least, the people 
 of the village he reached late one night said so — 
 he was not eager to go any farther alone. So he 
 decided to wait for a few days, until perhaps, some 
 other travellers might come along who were going 
 the same way. Then they could form a party and 
 find safety in numbers. 
 
 He waited for a week, but no one came, and so 
 he determined to set off alone, first thing next 
 morning. But as he was packing his valise that 
 night, another man came to the little inn, and to 
 the traveller's delight, he found that the other 
 was going to the same place. 
 
 He explained how he had been waiting because 
 of the brigands, and added, ^ ' So, if you are agree- 
 able, I will join you to-morrow, and we can set off 
 early. We ought to reach the next village before 
 dark.'' 
 
 This was agreed. The inn-keeper called the two 
 men as soon as it was daylight, and with their 
 
 189 
 
190 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 bundles, and a stout staff each, they started on 
 the rest of their journey. 
 
 The newcomer was quite a jolly man. He had? 
 travelled far, and he had so many interesting 
 things to talk about, that the journey did not seem 
 a bit long. Good-humour and cheerfulness always 
 make things a lot easier for everybody. And by 
 noon, the two men had reached the pass. 
 
 *^I don't think there are any brigands about 
 here," said one. *^I have not noticed a living 
 thing except those few goats, and the birds, have 
 your' 
 
 *^No!" replied the other. ^^ Perhaps it was 
 mere idle talk. It may have been a trick to keep 
 travellers longer at the inn than they would other- 
 wise have stayed. What do you say to a bit of 
 lunch nowT' 
 
 ^*Good! I'm ready for mine. The sharp air 
 of these mountains does make one hungry." 
 
 They selected a spot against some rocks where 
 they sat down, and unstrapping their bundles, 
 they ate their lunch. 
 
 ' ' Shall we rest for a little while 1 ' ' 
 
 ^^Well, I think we ought to get on. We must 
 be over the mountain before dark, you know." 
 
 ^^Oh, a few minutes longer will not matter. 
 Let's just take the chance while we can. Be- 
 sides, we shall get along all the faster after- 
 wards." 
 
 Strange to say, they both fell fast asleep; so 
 fast, indeed, that they did not hear the warning 
 voice of a flock of birds that had been hovering 
 round, and that had then come down to pick up 
 the crumbs. 
 
ROBIN REDBREAST 191 
 
 The birds had seen something, and to show 
 their gratitude for a splendid lunch, they called 
 their loudest, chirp, chirp, chirp — ^hoping to wake 
 the two men before it was too late. 
 
 Quietly, stealthily, the brigands came down 
 from their hiding-place. They had been watching 
 the travellers and this was the chance they were 
 waiting for. They fell upon the men with clubs 
 and sticks, and snatching up their valuables, they 
 left their victims senseless on the ground. 
 
 ^^What can we doT' chirped one of the birds, 
 for the whole flock had returned the moment the 
 robbers left. ^'We cannot leave them to die.'' 
 
 *^We cannot do anything," answered another, 
 *' unless some of us fly to the village and bring 
 help. But those grown-ups would never under- 
 stand even if we told them." 
 
 ^'That won't do," chimed in a third. *^Yet, 
 when they gave us those crumbs, we ought to do 
 something. I'll tell you what! I've got an idea. 
 We cannot bind up their wounds, but we might 
 be able to stop them bleeding. Let us gather 
 leaves as fast as we can, and we will lay them on 
 their wounds." 
 
 Off the birds flew as hard as they could. Each 
 one seized a leaf in his beak, and flying back again, 
 they laid them carefully on the wounds of the 
 stricken men. 
 
 It looked as though this was going to do some 
 good, for after a time one of the men opened his 
 eyes, and although he was very weak, he was able 
 to tear his neckcloth into strips and bandage the 
 places where the robbers had hurt him. Then 
 
192 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 after awhile, lie was doing the same thing for his 
 friend and their lives were saved. 
 
 The birds, seeing they could not do any more, 
 flew back home, but they were in a terrible state. 
 All the front of their breasts were marked with 
 red stains, and at once a black crow went to re- 
 port the matter to the king of the birds. 
 
 The culprits, looking very much ashamed, were 
 led into the presence of the golden eagle. He was 
 very angry to see some of his subjects in such a 
 disgraceful condition, and he said, ^'This matter 
 is most grave! Unless you can explain satisfac- 
 torily what you have been doing, you shall all be 
 banished from our court for all time. Now 
 speak!" 
 
 The robins hung their heads. 
 
 ^ ^ Am I to understand that you have nothing to 
 say?" 
 
 Then up spoke the bird who had suggested 
 bringing the leaves, and in a few words, he told 
 how they had tried to help the travellers in the 
 mountain pass, and how, in doing that, the red 
 stains had got upon their feathers. *^And may it 
 please your majesty," he concluded, **we have 
 done our best to make ourselves clean, but the 
 marks will not come out." 
 
 The eagle looked a little more pleased, but one 
 of the old counsellors said, *'But^ your majesty, 
 that is surely not all. These robins are guilty of 
 treason!" 
 
 * ' Treason ! Treason ! ' ' echoed the other birds, 
 although they did not know exactly what the other 
 meant. 
 
 ^' These interfering fellows," went on the old 
 
ROBIN REDBREAST 193 
 
 bird, ^^have forgotten that men are our enemies. 
 Po not cruel boys climb the trees and rob our 
 nests? Do not men snare some of our brethren, 
 and kill them? Yet, on their own confession, these 
 fellows have saved the lives of two of our bitter- 
 est foes. Banish them ! Let them be outcast from 
 the sacred brotherhood of the birds ! ' ' 
 
 There was a good deal of twittering at this. 
 Some thought that the old counsellor was far too 
 severe, while others said that, at any rate, what 
 he said about boys was true enough. 
 
 The king waved his sceptre, and a dead silence 
 fell on the court. 
 
 ^*A11 that our learned friend has said is true, 
 but it seems to me that, although the robins have 
 done what none of us would have done, they have 
 done what our Creator would wish. His Son says, 
 ^Love your enemies,' and the robins have shown 
 that though men are sometimes very cruel to us, 
 yet we can return good for evil. 
 
 ^'The sentence of the court is, that they shall 
 wear this red mark upon their breasts from this 
 time forth, and their children after them. But 
 it is not a mark of shame, but one of the highest 
 honour. They did a noble and kindly deed, though 
 at the cost of their appearance, and I decree that 
 this red mark of unselfish service shall be hon- 
 oured by us all, for it shall serve to remind us 
 that we too ought to help others when we can ! * ' 
 
 There were chirping cheers as the king finished 
 speaking, and so to this day these birds are called 
 Robin Redbreast. They bear the badge of honour 
 that belongs to those who do their best to be help- 
 ful, kind, and true. 
 
XLYin 
 THE LEAGUE OF LIGHT-GIVEES 
 
 WHY don't you lamps become friends T' 
 asked the policeman one night, address- 
 ing a tall electric lamp that shed his beams on the 
 pavement. **What I can see of it, you are all 
 doing the same kind of work although in different 
 ways. Why be so savage with one another?'' 
 
 The constable did not know it, but he had 
 really touched on a very delicate matter, for the 
 lamps were anything but friendly with one an- 
 other. It may have been because they did not 
 know each other well. You see, there were so 
 many of them, and they lived in such scattered 
 districts. 
 
 Some were in people's houses, and others on 
 lonely headlands round the coast, guiding the 
 sailors with the warning beam of the lighthouse. 
 Some had their place in great factories where the 
 machinery ran all through the night, or in hos- 
 pitals where sick people lay; while perhaps the 
 least fortunate of all were those who had to stand 
 in all weathers in the dark, draughty streets. No 
 wonder they were sometimes weary of their work, 
 for they were always standing in the same place. 
 And it is not surprising to hear people sometimes 
 talking about being as stiff as a lamp-post ! 
 
 Perhaps it was because of their long hours and 
 
 194 
 
THE LEAGUE OF LIGHT-GIVERS 195 
 
 the fact that they were awake all night that made 
 them a trifle cross. Haven't you noticed that 
 little people who do not go to bed in good time are 
 sometimes a bit peevish and ill-tempered? 
 
 The lamps in the side streets thought the great 
 electric lights were far too proud, and inclined to 
 look down on everyone. The oil-lamps disliked 
 the gas because it gave such a good light and put 
 them in the shade, and as for the candles — ^well, no 
 one had a good word to say for them. They were 
 always what the boys call Waxy, and very 
 easily put out ! 
 
 That being the case, you will understand that 
 they could not be either very happy or good 
 friends when they were always finding fault with 
 one another. But the policeman's remarks were 
 passed on, and they set everyone thinking. 
 
 ^^ After all,'' said some of the lights, **why 
 shouldn't we be on good terms with one another 
 when we are all fighting the common foe. Dark- 
 ness?" 
 
 So a meeting was called. The thing was talked 
 over for a long time, and then it was decided to 
 form a League of Light-givers. 
 
 The Electrics forgot their up-to-date splendour. 
 The Gas put aside its dislike for the rather smelly 
 Oil-lamps. And being now formed into a brother- 
 hood of brightness, they determined to put all 
 gloomy thoughts away for ever. 
 
 Everyone seemed delighted until a motor-head- 
 light, who had travelled the country a good deal 
 and was known to be an exceedingly bright fellow, 
 remarked, *'We seem of one mind about this 
 League. I am glad to see that our friends, the 
 
196 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 Electrics, have joined hands with the Gras, and 
 I am more than pleased that our old comrades, the 
 Oil-lamps, have promised not to smoke any more 
 than they can help in order that the comfort of 
 everyone may not be interfered with, but haven't 
 we forgotten something? What about the 
 Candles!'' 
 
 ^^Oh, you don't expect us to mix with common 
 candles, do you?" asked a gas-lamp. He had put 
 off his incandescent mantle on account of the heat, 
 and he now flamed up in a bit of temper, for he 
 was not quite himself. **They are not admitted 
 to decent society. Why, in the house where I live, 
 they simply would not think of using candles. We 
 can 't have them in the League. ' ' 
 
 ^^ Rather not!" chimed in an oil-lamp. ^^They 
 are very old-fashioned and horribly poor. If 
 they are joining, then I'm not!" 
 
 At that moment, one of the tall electric stand- 
 ards who held an important position in the city, 
 spluttered and jumped. The others looked anx- 
 iously at him, thinking that possibly he had been 
 taken ill, but he quickly recovered himself and 
 said, somewhat jerkily, **But why keep out the 
 candles?" 
 
 *^ Because ..." began the oil-lamp who had 
 last spoken. 
 
 *^ Because they are old and poor? That is no 
 reason. Are they not light-givers just as much as 
 we? I could tell you something that I saw last 
 week — I wonder if I should. ' ' 
 
 The other lights brightened up. This sounded 
 interesting, for this great fellow was known to be 
 both brilliant and wise. 
 
THE LEAGUE OF LIGHT-GIVERS 197 
 
 ** Shall IV asked the arc-lamp. 
 
 ^^Yes! Goon!'^ 
 
 **Well, a few nights ago, I was not feeling quite 
 up to the mark — congestion of the carbon or 
 something. ..." 
 
 ^^ Perhaps the currents disagreed with you," 
 cried the Gas with a laugh. 
 
 *^Look here! Who is telling this story?" re- 
 torted the Electric good-humouredly. ^^You are 
 meant to be seen, not heard." 
 
 **A11 right! No offence. 1 was trying to get at 
 the * raisin' of your illness." 
 
 **What I was saying was, I felt a strange kind 
 of choking, and after an attack of jumps, out went 
 my light. Well, I never think it is any use mak- 
 ing a fuss when things go wrong. I just take them 
 as they come and make the best of them. Of 
 course, I could not do anything till my man came 
 round in the morning, and as I wasn't a bit sleepy 
 — ^being used to staying up all night, you know — I 
 had time to look around. 
 
 ^^Now, there's an old lady who lives in a big 
 house right opposite to where I stand. The house 
 isn't hers. She has only one room. I happen to 
 know that she is very poor, and if it were not for 
 the little girl who brings a basket of good things 
 now and then, I'm afraid she would lack many a 
 comfort. Now I usually give her enough light 
 for her to see her way about, but this night, of 
 course, it was dark. Her cough was very trouble- 
 some. I could hear it even from where I stood. 
 So she had to light her one candle. 
 
 *^Poor little chap! It wasn't very much he 
 could do, but he did his best, and I was glad he 
 
198 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 did. I could see that the dear old lady was very 
 ill. And so, all through the night, he was burning 
 so that she would not be in the dark ! 
 
 * * Do you know, I felt quite proud of that candle ! 
 If he had thought only of himself, he would have 
 gone on strike. But he didn't; it is only matches 
 that strike I He just gave his life to brighten hers, 
 for instead of lasting several nights he was used 
 up all in one. 
 
 ^^ Don't you think that was a noble thing to 
 do?" asked the Arc-lamp looking round at the 
 others. ^^ Isn't it fine to see such unselfishness? 
 I would not have believed that anything so small 
 could have done so much. Ought we to keep the 
 candles out after that?" 
 
 With one voice the gas and the oil-lamps agreed 
 with their big friend that the candles should be 
 enrolled in the League. And the gas added, **As 
 they are older than any of us, let us give them the 
 place of honour in our order. ' ' 
 
 So the candles were made members of the 
 League of Light-givers, and whether you are big 
 or little, clever or not, you must **Let your light 
 so shine before men that they; may see your good 
 works. ' ' 
 
XLIX 
 
 LESSONS OF THE SNOW 
 
 BAH! Snow again !'^ Mr. Hyam Evercross 
 turned from the window of his breakfast- 
 room to the fire he had left, and sat down again. 
 He was cross. In fact, he was Evercross — that 
 was his name and he lived up to it ! 
 
 What was the matter with him! you ask. Noth- 
 ing much. He wanted to go out that morning, that 
 was all, and being quite strong and well, he could 
 not help shivering when the snow came. Poor 
 people who had only half the clothes that Hyam 
 wore, and who never had half as much to eat, 
 whose boots let the cold slush in — these could go 
 out in the vilest of weather, and they could not 
 possibly feel the cold as he did ! That is why he 
 did not relish walking through the slushy streets. 
 
 But you will ask now, ^'Why did he not call a 
 cab if he didn't like walking in the snowT' 
 
 Ah, that proves that you do not know Mr. Ever- 
 cross. He was not poor. He could have hired 
 half-a-dozen cabs if he liked. But the fact was, he 
 had always to find something to grumble at, and 
 the snow was something that did not often give 
 him a chance. 
 
 His man brought in the breakfast, and politely 
 wished his master Good Morning ! But Hyam did 
 not answer for he was not like you — you always 
 
 199 
 
200 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 remember your manners, and you don't sulk when 
 things are not to your liking! 
 
 James retired from the room as quickly as he 
 could, and he muttered to himself, *'The wind's 
 in the east again! We're in for another day of 
 it!" Though I do not think he meant that the 
 day was going to be windy so much as breezy ! 
 
 Hyam did not eat anything. ^ ^ Who wants break- 
 fast a morning like this T ' he growled. ^ ^ How am 
 I to get to the city!" And it did not improve his 
 temper a bit when a boy hurled a snow-ball at him 
 later, which sent his hat rolling along the street. 
 
 I hope that you would never throw snow-balls 
 at old gentlemen in the street, because it is not 
 quite fair. It is not playing the game. But in 
 this case, I am not very sorry for Hyam deserved 
 a good deal more. 
 
 Well, he got to the city all right, though he 
 managed to make most people miserable who came 
 within sound of his sharp tongue. And it was as 
 much as the car conductor could do to keep from 
 telling Hyam what he thought of him. 
 
 That night, when the house was quiet and Hyam 
 Evercross sat in the firelight to save the gas, a 
 strange little elf blew into the room. He kept as 
 far from the fire as he could, and he called across 
 the room, ^^Well, sir! How now?" 
 
 Hyam had to look twice before he could see any- 
 one, then he growled, ^*Well? No, decidedly not! 
 I am far from well after a day like this ! But who 
 may you be I" 
 
 **I am the Prince of the Snowflakes," was the 
 reply. 
 
 **Are you! Well, I wish you had kept them to 
 
LESSONS OF THE SNOW 201 
 
 yourself instead of making such a mess of the 
 streets." 
 
 ^^Corne, come, come/' said the prince. ** Why- 
 talk like thatr' 
 
 ^*I will do nothing of the kind,'' replied he. 
 ''Why should I come with you?" 
 
 ''Well, that is not quite what I meant when I 
 said come, but still it is not a bad idea. Suppose 
 you do come with me. I may be able to show you 
 something you have never seen before." 
 
 If there was anything that Mr. Evercross did 
 not like it was to have to go out when once he had 
 got back to the cosy fire, but there was no help 
 for it. The little prince pulled at his dressing- 
 gown, and soon they were floating through space 
 as well as Peter Pan could do it ! 
 
 "Where are we going?" asked Mr. Evercross, 
 rather angrily. 
 
 "To what is called the Black Country — ^where 
 your old smoky chimneys have nearly spoiled the 
 glory of God's beautiful earth," was the answer. 
 "You will see what I have done there." 
 
 Soon they came to it, and Hyam did open his 
 eyes ! They were open before, of course, but now 
 they were wider than ever! It was as though a 
 magician had been at work for the whole country- 
 side was changed. 
 
 ' ' Well, do you like it ? " asked the prince. ' ' Not 
 bad for one night's work, is it?" 
 
 "I think it is wonderful," cried the man. "I 
 never thought the snow could have made such a 
 difference. Why, it used to be horrible looking 
 out from the train. But, unhappily, it can't last. ' ' 
 
 "But why do you say that? Surely it is bettex 
 
^02 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 to have things looking beautiful even if it is only 
 for a few hours than always to have them ugly. 
 And why don 't you try to make things a bit better 
 in the world? You are always complaining about 
 people and making the most of their bad points. 
 Why don't you look for the best! And they are 
 all the better for hearing a good word now and 
 then, instead of being reminded of their faults." 
 
 The man listened. No one had ever dared to 
 speak like that to him before. Then he took out 
 his notebook and wrote by the light of the moon, 
 **Note: It is worth while making the best of 
 things, no matter how ugly they may be ! " 
 
 They now went on to the open country. 
 
 *^Look at this field,'' said the prince. **Now 
 listen! Can you hear anything?" 
 
 ' ' No, " replied Hyam. ' ' What should I hear ? ' ' 
 
 **Well, last week I was passing this field, and 
 T heard a lot of tiny voices crying out that it was 
 cold there. What do you think it was?" 
 
 *^Not babies?" said the man, for the only thing 
 that cried as far as he knew was a baby. 
 
 The prince burst out laughing. * * No, no ! You 
 are quite wrong. It was all the seeds the farmer 
 had put into the ground, ready for next year's 
 crops. So I just threw one of my white coverlets 
 over them to keep them warm, and now there is 
 not a sound. They are all fast asleep." 
 
 Out came the notebook again, and Hyam wrote, 
 *'Note: Snow makes the earth happy by giving 
 it a warm covering." And he added to himself, 
 ^*I must go round some of those poor houses near 
 me and see if they have fires and plenty of bed- 
 clothes as soon as I get home again." 
 
LESSONS OF THE SNOW 203 
 
 Just then it started to snow again. At first 
 there were only a few light flakes, but in a moment, 
 great swirling masses were coming down. 
 
 **I think I would like to get back home,'' said 
 Mr. Evercross to the prince, *Hhat is, unless you 
 particularly want me to stay. You see, I have an 
 idea that perhaps there may be some one not far 
 from where I live I could help. I can't bear to 
 think that they might not have any coal a night 
 like this." 
 
 The prince looked quite pleased. **You have 
 learned some of the lessons of the snow, I think. 
 Well, there is just one more I want you to get 
 before we part. "Would you mind counting the 
 flakes?" 
 
 Hyam looked up, but though he tried his best, 
 lie saw it was impossible. 
 
 **I'm afraid I can't, and yet I used to think 1 
 was good at figures ! These are too much for me. 
 Do you particularly want to know how many there 
 are?" 
 
 **No!" replied the prince, *^but I wanted you 
 to try." 
 
 *^But why?" the man asked, more puzzled than 
 ever. 
 
 *^Just for this reason: you have had much to 
 complain about and I know that occasionally you 
 get cross. Do you know why? It is because you 
 have forgotten to count your blessings!" 
 
 Mr. Evercross looked as though he wanted to 
 say something, but could not find words, but the 
 snow-clad prince did not seem to notice and he 
 went on: 
 
 **If you would only look up and try to count the 
 
204 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 many things you have to make you thankful to the 
 Giver of good, you'd find that you could no more 
 count them than you can count the falling flakes. 
 Now we are back ! Remember the lessons of the 
 snow, and the next time you feel like ..." 
 
 The prince's voice seemed to die away in the 
 distance as, with a violent start, Mr. Evercross 
 woke up! 
 
 ** Bless me!'' he said. **Who would have 
 thought it! Lessons of the snow — ^why, I never 
 thought of them before. Where's that notebook 
 of mine 1 I mustn 't forget them ! ' ' 
 
 It took him a minute or two, biting his pencil, 
 before he could recall what the prince had said, 
 but then he wrote : 
 
 1. Always make the best of things. 
 
 2. Try to make some one comfortable and happy. 
 
 3. Count your blessings — that is, if you can! 
 
 **It is only 8 o'clock," he observed. **Why, 
 James and I could take a few spare blankets round 
 to-night." 
 
 And as he pulled on his boots he was humming, 
 
 "Count your blessings, name them one by one, 
 And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done." 
 
 His name is no longer Hyam Evercross, but one 
 that sounds very much better — Hyam Everglad. 
 
THE STRICKEN SOLDIEE 
 
 A SOLDIER stumbled along a lonely lane. He 
 was wounded and ill, and as it was in the 
 olden times, long before anyone thought of giving 
 aid to those hurt in battle, his officer had given 
 him leave to seek rest and help. 
 
 The man had fastened a cloth about his head 
 as well as he could and a strip of rag was wrapped 
 round his hand, but he was feeling so weary and 
 faint that he could hardly put one foot before 
 the other. 
 
 There was no one about, and not a house in 
 sight, so that he did not know where he was goin^, 
 but he felt that it was something if only he could 
 leave the noise of the battlefield behind him. 
 
 Now it so happened, that as he turned the cor- 
 ner of the lane, he saw a little way oif a fine old 
 castle. It belonged to a nobleman of those parts, 
 though he was anything but a noble man. The 
 truth is, he had a very ugly temper, and he often 
 did such wicked things when his temper got the 
 better of him, that he was feared by all. 
 
 Still, the soldier did not know that, which was 
 just as well, and seeing the gardener brushing the 
 path, the poor fellow called to him through the 
 closed gate and said, ^^May I just come in and 
 
 205 
 
206 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 rest awMle on that seat? I cannot go much 
 farther.'' 
 
 The gardener came down to the railings, bnt 
 he did not open the gate, although he looked very 
 sorry for the soldier. 
 
 **I wish I could let you in, but I dare not! It 
 would be as much as my place is worth. The mas- 
 ter has given orders that no beggars. . . . ' ' 
 
 *'But I am not a beggar,'' said the wounded 
 man. ^^You can see that I am from the wars. 
 Look here ! ' ' pointing to his head, * ' I am wounded 
 and have a fever as well. ' ' 
 
 *^I'm sorry, but it's no use. If you keep on for 
 another mile, you will come to the village. Some- 
 one is sure to give you help there. ' ' 
 
 The soldier smiled sadly as he said, **I cannot 
 go another mile. But of course, if you cannot 
 help me, then I must lie by the roadside. I am 
 nearly spent." 
 
 He hobbled away, but as the gardener turned 
 back to his work, a lady came down the path lead- 
 ing from the castle. She was dressed in most 
 beautiful robes, but the tender look in her face 
 was more beautiful still. 
 
 * * Who was that soldier ? ' ' she asked. * ' He looks 
 ill. What did he want?" 
 
 The gardener told his mistress all that had 
 passed, but she said with scorn, ** Afraid of losing 
 your place? Why, if it were not for such men as 
 that, you would have no place to lose. Bring him 
 back!" 
 
 **But my lord gave me strict orders ..." 
 
 ** Bring him back at once! I will see that a bed 
 is prepared for him. ' ' 
 
THE STRICKEN SOLDIER 207 
 
 So the wounded man was led to the castle, but 
 as he crossed the terrace, some red drops fell from 
 his wounds upon the white pavement. But only 
 the gardener noticed them. 
 
 The soldier was placed in the bed, and the lady 
 came with water and healing spices to wash and 
 dress his wounds. She bound up his head again, 
 and as he laid it on the cool white pillow, she saw 
 that he was settling to sleep just like a tired child. 
 So she pulled the heavy curtains across the win- 
 dow to darken the room and stole quietly away. 
 
 Just as she reached the hall, her husband had 
 come in. His face was flushed with anger, for he 
 had seen the gardener busy trying to wash out 
 the blood marks on the terrace; thus he learned 
 everything. 
 
 **What is the meaning of thisT' he burst out. 
 **Why have my orders been disobeyed? Who is 
 this wretched fellow you have brought into my 
 house r' 
 
 * ^ Oh, my lord. It is a poor soldier who has been 
 wounded. He was asking for a place to rest, and 
 I could not see him turned away. I have dressed 
 his hurt, and now he sleeps." 
 
 ^^Does he! Then he shall soon wake up, mark 
 my words! 1^11 have no lazy skulking fellows in 
 my house. Tell me, woman, where is heT' 
 
 *^In the guest-room, my lord.'' 
 
 She saw the look of anger in her husband's 
 eyes, but her thought for the poor fellow upstairs 
 made her brave. 
 
 '^Please let him stay. He has been fighting for 
 our land. Leave him in peace, if you have any 
 love for me!" 
 
208 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 But the nobleman did not stop to hear the rest 
 of her words. He strode up to the room, the lady 
 following. He tore back the curtains and turned 
 to the bed, intent on clearing the soldier out bag 
 and baggage, but his outstretched hand fell. He 
 stood motionless. He was spellbound. 
 
 Whether it was simply the brightness of the 
 afternoon sun falling on the face of the sleeping 
 man or not, I cannot say, but a glorious light 
 shone about the head. Instead of the bandages 
 there was a bright halo and a crown of thorns that 
 gleamed with golden radiance, while upon the 
 white coverlet lay the bandaged hand, a red stain 
 showing, that must have reminded the lord of One 
 whose hands were pierced with the nails of the 
 cross. 
 
 He beckoned to his lady and stole from the 
 room, and as he closed the door behind him, he 
 said in a strangely quiet voice, *^You have done 
 well. I have been blind, but now I see. We are 
 indeed honoured in our guest. What was it my 
 mother used to read to me when I was a boy? 
 * Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the 
 least of these. My brethren, ye have done it unto 
 Me.' However did I forget thatr' 
 
LI 
 
 A STEANGE NOEL 
 
 FAST fell the snow. It was Christmas eve and 
 all through the day, the heavy flakes had been 
 falling, till the streets were deep with cold slush 
 or filled with high barriers where it had drifted. 
 
 A poor woman had left her home in a drab part 
 of Paris to go to the chapel where a service was 
 always held on the night before Noel, for she 
 wanted to ask the Good Father to help her chil- 
 dren at this season. 
 
 H;er shawl was worn and thin, and the wind 
 seemed to be taking a delight in dashing it aside 
 and driving the snow into her face. It was cold ! 
 And she shivered again as she thought of the little 
 stock of fuel at home and the even smaller stock 
 of food in the cupboard. 
 
 She was generally very brave and bright, al- 
 though her husband was away at the wars. But 
 to-night, although Christmas was so near, she 
 felt very sad. Perhaps it was because Christmas 
 was near, for as she put her two little children to 
 bed, she noticed that they had put their sabots 
 in front of the grate. 
 
 The French children look for Santa just as we 
 do, but instead of filling their stockings, he puts 
 something in their shoes. 
 
 209 
 
210 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 **Mere,'' said the boy (that was his way of 
 saying Mother), '*do you think he will come or 
 does he pass poor children T' 
 
 **Ah, yes/' she had replied, ^*I hope he will 
 come like he used,'' and Jacques and his little 
 sister went to bed, happy in their thoughts of a 
 knife or a ball for the boy, a doll or a book for 
 Marie. 
 
 The mother thought of all this as she battled 
 against the wind. Would the Good Father send 
 something for them? She stopped for a moment 
 for breath, and as she did so, she heard a moan. 
 Looking about, she saw a little boy, sitting on 
 some steps, but he was so white with the snow 
 that she had not noticed him. Who was he ? Was 
 he lost? 
 
 The little chap could not answer her. He was 
 faint for lack of food and blue with cold. What 
 should she do? Take him to the police who cared 
 for lost children ? But it was farther to get there 
 than to take him back home to the humble dwelling 
 she had left. 
 
 She wrapped her shawl about the boy, and 
 though he was heavy and the slush made walking 
 difficult, at last, panting and weary, she got to her 
 door. 
 
 It was only when she got him inside and sat 
 chafing his little feet before the fire that she saw 
 how well-dressed the child was. 
 
 After a little while, he seemed able to talk. 
 * ' Where am I ? " he asked. * ' I wanted to see where 
 the baby Jesus lay, and I 'm lost. ' ' 
 
 The woman tried to cheer the little fellow, but 
 try as she would, she could not find out where he 
 
A STRANGE NOEL ^11 
 
 lived. His name was Louis — that was all he knew 
 except that **he wanted to see the baby Jesus." 
 
 She gave him some hot soup, and then tucking 
 him up beside the sleeping Jacques, she set off 
 again to tell the police that the boy was safe. 
 
 Her way lay past the church, and as she passed 
 the people were coming out. Ought she to stay 
 just for a moment! The thought of Christmas 
 and the empty sabots by her grate would not let 
 her pass, so she just slipped into the church, and 
 praying that her children might not be forgotten, 
 she then went off once more. 
 
 She had to wait a few minutes inside the office.; 
 There was someone already there. When he came 
 out, the chief was saying, ^^You can depend upon 
 that, monsieur. The moment we hear any- 
 thing. . . .'' 
 
 ^^ Pardon, messieurs,'' broke in the poor woman, 
 * 4s it about the boy who is lost 1 ' ' 
 
 ** Yes," cried the gentleman, **do you know any- 
 thing about him — Louis is his name !'' 
 
 ^'He is safe. I found him in the snow.'' 
 
 The father was over- joyed, and calling a taxi, 
 he bundled the poor woman in, and together they 
 drove to the dismal house. 
 
 On the way, he told her how the maid had taken 
 the little boy out to see the infant Jesus, for in 
 France, they have a scene made in some of the 
 churches, showing the Child in the manger, and 
 His parents standing by. But the maid had met 
 a friend with whom she stopped to talk, and when 
 she thought of the boy, he was nowhere to be seen. 
 
 ' ' You will see him again in a moment. This is 
 the door, monsieur." 
 
212 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 Soon the father had the sleepy Louis in his 
 arms, his heart full of gladness that the child had 
 been found. But the boy was too disappointed at 
 not seeing" the manger to think of anything else. 
 
 ^^Can he stay a little longer T' asked the gentle- 
 man. *'I must go to the telephone and let his 
 mother know. Then she will send the car here 
 for us both.'' 
 
 It must have taken a long time to telephone or 
 else for the car to come, for the father was away 
 for more than an hour. But I think I know the 
 reason. He had told the man where to meet him, 
 and he had been shopping! 
 
 You never saw such a number of parcels. He 
 had understood the empty sabots at the fireside, 
 and the bare room had told its own tale. So no 
 wonder the poor mother was overcome. A ham, 
 a turkey, tea and coffee and ever so many other 
 things were carried in, till the room looked almost 
 like a store. 
 
 Louis was awake now, and as the woman dressed 
 him, he began telling his father of the beautiful 
 dream he had had. **I was looking for the Man- 
 ger, but I got so tired, and I couldn't go any 
 farther, so an angel came from God. I told her 
 I wanted to see the new-born King, and she took 
 me to a poor house, and told me that I should see 
 Him, for He was bom in a poor dwelling. So I 
 was waiting to see Jesus, and when I looked, it 
 was you, pere ! ' ' 
 
 The father's eyes were glistening as he said, 
 ** Where we see true love there we see Christ bom 
 again. This good lady who carried you to her 
 home and cared for you has shown Him to us. I 
 
A STRANGE NOEL 213 
 
 wish we could show Him to her. Do you think we 
 could, Louis r' 
 
 Louis watched his father stoop down and stuff 
 something that looked like money into the little 
 sabots ; then taking up two of the mysterious par- 
 cels, he laid one beside each little child. 
 
 * ' Tell the dear children, ' ' he said, * * that Christ 
 has truly come again to the old world. May their 
 Noel be as happy as you, by your care of my lost 
 boy, have made mine!'* 
 
 The poor woman tried to thank the good gentle- 
 man, but she found no words to do so; she just 
 stooped and gave Louis a kiss on each cheek, 
 while her eyes filled with tears of joy. 
 
 Everyone seemed happy — Louis and his father, 
 the chauffeur who had been looking on, mother 
 and the nurse (who had been crying ever since 
 she had missed the boy) — and not least, Jacques 
 and Marie when they woke next morning; while 
 I thought I saw Another whose face was radiant 
 with a holy smile. He had seen it all. It was for 
 His sake, who had Himself once been homeless 
 and in need, that love had done all this. And He 
 said, **If only people believed that to serve one 
 another brings them happiness, and shows their 
 love to Me.'' 
 
. LII 
 THE MAN WHOM NOBODY LOVED 
 
 THE sun was sinking fast as an old, old man, 
 leaning heavily on his staff, tottered feebly- 
 down the hill. He looked sad, and no wonder, for 
 the people who lived in the city he had just left 
 had not understood him, though he had tried to 
 help them and to be their friend. And now that 
 he was going, some of them had come to the city 
 gates to see the last of him. 
 
 They were shouting after him, just as one has 
 sometimes seen rude children calling after an old 
 man, and some of them took up stones as though 
 they would throw them at him. 
 
 *^Go! go!^' they cried, *'we are glad to see you 
 are off at last." 
 
 What had he done! 
 
 The old man stopped and turned, as though he 
 would say something. Then he must have changed 
 his mind, for no one likes talking to rude people, 
 and he went on again, while the men and women, 
 and even the children shouted and jeered as hard 
 as they could. 
 
 Then there was a great noise that drowned their 
 angry cries. A flash, another roll of thunder, and 
 lo ! out of a cloud came a being with a face that 
 shone like lightning. He held a great book in his 
 
 214 
 
THE MAN WHOM NOBODY LOVED 215 
 
 hand, and as the people looked at him in amaze- 
 ment, he cried, 
 
 '^0 foolish ones! Know ye not that one of 
 your truest friends leaves you this dayT' 
 
 No one answered, so the angel went on : 
 
 ^'Ye blame the old man for the ills ye have 
 brought on yourselves. Ye forget the benefits he 
 has bestowed on you. Eemember ye, when as 
 governor he came to this beautiful city, how gladly 
 ye welcomed him?'' 
 
 "Yes,'' replied the folk, "but that was because 
 he came full of promises. He said he would show 
 us the way to wealth. He assured us of much 
 blessing and joy. But how many of his promises 
 has he kept?'' 
 
 The angel looked very thoughtful for a moment, 
 and then opening his great book, he said : "Let us 
 see who is in the wrong, he or ye." 
 
 He turned a few pages. "Yes, ye speak true. 
 I find it is even as ye say. H^ere is the promise of 
 good that the old man made when first he became 
 your governor. But let me read further. To 
 some he entrusted fine gold and merchandise that 
 he had brought with him from distant lands. 
 Some, I see, did trade with what he lent them, 
 and their wealth increased so that all was welL 
 Then they forgot that they owed something to 
 their benefactor and to their poorer brethren to 
 whom the old man had said a share must be given. 
 So they began to hoard yet more and more. Then 
 did their wealth moulder and lose its power to 
 make rich. Is not that so?" 
 
 The facQ^ of the people showed that the angel 
 was right, but not a voice answered him. 
 
Stl6 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 '^Others, I see in this record, were given 
 precious chances of increasing their knowledge, 
 for the Ancient brought with him the treasures of 
 wisdom. But how many learned, as he said, that 
 the way of knowledge is the way of happiness and 
 success? Few indeed! 
 
 ^^Some spake against the knowledge of your 
 governor, and others were known to have slept 
 with his books before them. What wonder, then, 
 that ye have profited little! But the fault is not 
 his but yours. Who can teach those who will not 
 learn? 
 
 ^*Ye blame him for the ills ye have brought on 
 yourselves, but I have heard no mention of the 
 blessings he made yours. Is that right? Is it 
 fair? Answer me!'^ And the angel looked into 
 the faces of the folk with grief if not anger in his 
 eyes. 
 
 Then spake one for the rest. *^This man is not 
 worthy of your good opinion, most noble sir. It 
 is true that we have made mistakes, but so have 
 all men. ' ' 
 
 At this, the people clapped their hands, while 
 one cried, '^ Truly said! Let our case be heard!" 
 
 The man continued: ^'He gave us some things, 
 it is a fact, but what of the things he stole from 
 us? I was in his service. When I began I was 
 younger far, and strong. Look at me now! He 
 promised us joy, but to many he gave sorrow. He 
 said that we should have all manner of blessings ; 
 I)ut there is not one who wishes to look on his 
 withered old face again, for little good has he 
 brought to any of us!'' 
 
 There was more clapping, but it died away as 
 
THE MAN WHOM NOBODY LOVED 21T 
 
 a man was seen pushing his way to the front of the 
 crowd. 
 
 *^Most noble sir, let me speak," he began. 
 ^ ^ There is one who is glad to have met and known 
 yonder old man of whom so many say hard 
 things.'* And turning to the people he waved his 
 hand, ^^ Hearken, ye men! and I will speak!'' 
 
 A cry went round, '* Hearken to Han, the true !" 
 
 *^We have known hard times, but tell me, my 
 friends, have they not made us hardier though not 
 hard, trustier because we have been tried? Is 
 there not good coming out of all we have seen 
 since the Ancient came among us! There is a 
 bride in your house, Henryk. There is greater 
 prosperity in our land, brothers mine! The 
 children are taller; the youths are stronger; the 
 maidens are fairer ; and the old are wiser — or they 
 might have been! Surely, had we done all our 
 governor bade us, then blessings untold would 
 have been ours. Yet this is true — ^we are far 
 better off than we deserve, and that the Good God 
 and my soul doth know. And so know you all!" 
 
 The first speaker looked bewildered. He had 
 not a word to say, not that it would have mattered 
 much if he had, for the people were now clapping 
 and shouting at the top of their voices, ^^True! 
 True!" 
 
 The angel waited a few minutes; then making 
 a sign for silence, he said, *^We must be fair to 
 both speakers. Tell me why the story of the sec- 
 ond was so different from the first. Ban the true, 
 let us hear you again." 
 
 Han looked up. ^ ^ I can tell you that quite easily. 
 My friend has said what he thinks is true, but it 
 
•218 PARABLES FOR LITTLE PEOPLE 
 
 is only partly true, for he lives in a house that is 
 always in the shadow of yonder rock. I have been 
 there, and it is all gloomy and dull. Its window 
 is small, and from it he can see little, while, be- 
 cause it is on the north side of the city and far 
 from the road, he never sees the sun within, nor 
 do travellers pass that way. 
 
 ^ ' Now it so happens that my house faces south, 
 3ust on the king's highway. It is where my father 
 built long years ago so that I can claim no credit 
 for that. But from my windows I can see the 
 valley lying there bathed in sunshine, and along 
 the highway pass my friends on their way in and 
 out of the city gates. They never fail to tell me 
 of the news they have heard, of the gains of the 
 market, or the joys that the day has brought. 
 That is why, under the rule of our aged governor, 
 I have been happy in the happiness of others, and 
 I have seen the blessing of many a home. It was 
 his counsel, his wisdom, and his righteous laws, 
 that made us prosperous. '^ 
 
 As Ilan ceased, the angel said, **You speak 
 well, my friend, and what is more, your words 
 ring true. Listen all ! Ye were f oqlish and wrong 
 to speak ill of the man who has been head of your 
 city. The evils that came were largely of your 
 own making, and to blame him was unjust. But 
 he can never return to rule here more. Ye have 
 treated him too badly." 
 
 *^But we will make amends," said some. 
 
 **Ye may," replied the angel, *^but not to him. 
 His day is over. But when his son comes in his 
 place ye can serve him better. ' ' 
 
 **His son?" they cried eagerly. **Has he a son 
 
THE MAN WHOM NOBODY LOVED 219 
 
 then? And is he to be our governor? Then will 
 we serve him well for the good his father made 
 ours. ' ' 
 
 ^*He will be here ere the old man passes out of 
 sight, and ye shall know him for he is young and 
 he will bear the mystic figures on his breast that 
 your calendars boast. For one year he will rule 
 over you as governor of your city. Thus saith 
 my Lord the King!^' 
 
 And the angel was gone ! But a voice was heard 
 in the distance, crying, 
 
 **A happy New Year to you alL'' 
 
 THE END 
 

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