Jewel's Story Book Part 60

Harry and Julia took a sail in the "Jewel" while the riders were away, otherwise the four had spent the entire day together; and after dinner they all strolled out of doors to watch the coming of twilight.

Jewel and her father began a romp on the gra.s.s with the dog, and Mr.

Evringham and Julia took seats on the piazza.

The broker watched the group on the lawn in silence for a minute, and then he spoke.

"I was very much impressed by the talk we had last evening, Julia; more so even than by those that have gone before. Harry really seems very intelligent on this subject of Christian Science."

"He is making a conscientious study of it," returned Julia.

"You have met my questions and objections remarkably well," went on Mr.

Evringham. "I am willing and glad to admit truth where I once was skeptical, and I hope to understand much more. One thing I must say, however, I do object to--it is this worship of Mrs. Eddy. I know you don't call it that, but what does it matter what you call it, when you all give her slavish obedience? I should like to take the truth she has presented and make it more impersonal than you do. What is the need of thinking about her at all?"

Julia smiled. "Well, ordinary grat.i.tude might come in there. Most of us feel that she has led us to the living Christ, and helped us to all we have attained of health and happiness; but one very general mistake that error makes use of to blind people is that Mrs. Eddy exacts this grat.i.tude. How willing everybody is to admit that actions speak louder than words; and yet who of our opposers ever stop to think how Mrs. Eddy's retired, hard-working life proves the falsity of the charges brought against her.

She does wish for our love and grat.i.tude; but it is for our sakes, not hers. Think of any of the great teachers from St. Paul down to the present day. Who could benefit by the truth voiced by any of them, while he nursed either contempt or criticism of the personality of the teacher?"

"Yes," returned Mr. Evringham, "there is strength in that consideration; but this blind following of any suggestion your leader makes looks to me too much like giving up your own rationality."

Julia regarded him seriously. "Supposing you were one of a party who had, for long years, searched in vain for gold. You had tried mine after mine only to find you had not the ability to discriminate between the priceless and the worthless ore, or to discern the signs of promise that lead to rich discovery. Now, supposing another prospector had proved, over and over again, that he did know the places where treasure was to be found.

Supposing he had demonstrated, over and over again, that his judgment and discernment never led him astray, and that reward followed his labor unfailingly. Now, what if this wise prospector was willing to help you?

Supposing he stated that in certain places, and by certain ways, you could attain that for which you longed and had striven vainly. When his advice or directions came to you, from time to time, do you think you would be likely to stop to haggle or argue over them? No; I think you would hasten to follow his suggestions, as eagerly and as closely as you were able, and with a warmly grateful heart. Would that prospector be forcing you? or doing you a kindness? What are the fruits of Christian Science? What are the results of the directions of this wise, loving leader who can come so close to G.o.d that He teaches her to help us to come, too. Oh, father, this obstacle, this foolish argument, meets nearly every one in the path you are treading, and tries to turn him back. I do hope, for your sake, you will decline to give that very flabby error-fairy a backbone, or let it detain you longer. It is marvelous how, without one element of truth or reason, it seems able to hold back so many, and waste their precious time."

Mr. Evringham was regarding the speaker with close attention. "You are a good special pleader," he said, when she paused.

"It is easy to speak the truth," she answered.

He nodded thoughtfully. "You have given me a new light on the situation. I see it now from an entirely new standpoint."

Here the trio on the lawn came running up the steps, father and child laughing and panting as hard as Topaz, whose tongue and teeth were all in evidence in the gayety of his grin.

Harry threw himself into the hammock, and Jewel sat on the floor beside Topaz, who gazed at her from his wistful eyes, his head on the side. Harry laughed. "Jewel, he looks at you as if he were saying, 'Really, now, you are a person after my own heart.'"

"She is after his heart, too," said Jewel's mother, "and I'm sure she'll win it."

"He likes me already," declared the child. "Don't you, Topaz?" she asked tenderly, laying her flaxen head with its big bows against the gold of his coat. "Oh, there ought to be one more story in my book," she added, "one for us to read right now and finish up my birthday."

"Why not have 'The Golden Dog' again?" suggested Mr. Evringham, from the comfortable big wicker chair in which he sat watching Jewel and Topaz.

"That would be appropriate."

"Oh, yes," cried the little girl, looking at her mother.

"Oh, no," returned Julia, smiling. "There ought to be a special fresh story for a birthday. We might make one now."

"A new one, mother?" asked Jewel, much pleased. "Could you?"

"No indeed, not alone; but if everybody helped"--

"Oh, yes," cried Jewel, with more enthusiasm than before. "Grandpa begin because he's the oldest, then father, then mother, then--well, me, if I can think of anything."

"It's very wrong of you, Jewel," said the broker, "to remember that I'm the oldest, under these circ.u.mstances. What did you tell me this morning?"

The child's head fell to the side and she leaned toward him. "I don't know how old you are," she replied gently; "and it doesn't make any difference."

"Then let's begin with the youngest," he suggested.

"No," said his daughter, "I think Jewel's plan is the best. You begin, father." She did not in the least expect that he would consent, but Jewel, her hands resting on Topaz's collar, was looking at the broker lovingly.

"Grandpa can do just anything," she declared.

Mr. Evringham regarded her musingly. "I know only one story," he said at last, "and not very far into that one."

"You don't have to know far," returned Julia encouragingly, "for Harry has to begin whenever you say so."

"Indeed!" put in her husband. "I pity you if you have to listen to me."

"It's my birthday, you know, grandpa," urged Jewel.

"So I've understood," returned the broker. "Well, just wait a minute till I hitch up Pegasus."

"Great Scott!" exclaimed his son. "You aren't in earnest, Julia? You don't expect me to do anything like that right off the bat!"

"Certainly, I do," she replied, laughing.

"Oh, see here, I have an engagement. We're one, you know, and when it comes to authorship, you're the one."

"Hush," returned Julia, "you're disturbing father's muse."

But Mr. Evringham's ideas, whatever they were, seemed to be at hand. He settled back in his chair, his elbows on the arms and his finger-tips touching. All his audience immediately gave attention. Even Anna Belle had a chair all to herself and fixed an inspiring gaze on the broker. It was to be hoped that her pride kept her cool, for, in spite of the quiet warmth of the September evening, she was enveloped in her new furs, with her hands tucked luxuriously in the large m.u.f.f.

"Once upon a time," began Mr. Evringham, "there was an old man. No one had ever told him that it was error to grow old and infirm, and he sometimes felt about ninety, although he was rather younger. He lived in the Valley of Vain Regret. The climate of that region has a bad effect on the heart, and his had shriveled up until it was quite small and mean, and hard and cold, at that.

"The old man wasn't poor; he lived in a splendid castle and had plenty of servants to wait on him; but he was the loneliest of creatures. He wanted to be lonely. He didn't like anybody, and all he asked of people was that they stay away from him and only speak to him when he spoke to them, which wasn't very often, I a.s.sure you. You can easily see that people were willing to stay away from a cross-grained person like that. Everybody in the neighborhood was afraid of him. They shivered when he came near, and ran off to get into the sunshine; so he was used to seeing visitors pa.s.s by the fine grounds of his castle with only a scared glance or two in that direction, and he wished it to be so. But he was very unhappy all the same.

His dried-up heart gave him much discomfort, and then once he had read an old parchment that told of a far different land from Vain Regret. In that country was the Castle of True Delight, and many an hour the man spent in restless longing to know how he might find it; for--so he read--if a person could once pa.s.s within the portals of that palace, he would never again know sorrow or discontent, but one happy day would follow another in endless variety and satisfaction.

"Many a time the man mounted on a spirited horse and rode forth in search of this castle, and many different paths he took; but every night he came home discouraged, for no sign could he find of any hope or cheer in the whole Valley of Vain Regret, and it seemed to him to hold him like a prisoner.

"One day as he was strolling on the terrace before the castle, in bitter thought, a strange sight met his eyes. A little girl pushed open the great iron gates which he had thought were locked, and walked toward him. For a minute he was too much amazed at such daring to speak, and the little girl came forward, smiling as she caught his look. She had dark eyes and her brown hair curled in her neck. Most people would have remarked her sweet expression; but the old man turned fierce at sight of her.

"'Be off,' he commanded angrily, and he pointed to the gate.

"She did not cease smiling nor turn away, but came straight on.

"The little dried heart in the old man's breast began to bounce about at a great rate in his anger. He turned to a servant who stood near holding in leash two great hounds.

"'Set the dogs on her,' he commanded; and though the servant was loath to obey, he dared not refuse, and set free the dogs who, at the master's word, bounded swiftly toward the child.

"Her loving look did not alter as she saw them coming and she held out her hands to them. When they reached her they licked the little hands with their tongues and bent their great heads to her caresses, and so she advanced to the man, walking between the hounds, a hand on the neck of each.

"He stared at her dumfounded as she stood before him, her eyes smiling up into his. Her garments were white and of a strange fashion.