Little Busybodies Part 16

By the time the old guide had finished Betty was waving her hand the way she did in school. "Please, sir, I don't know half as much as Jack does.

He has told all I know, and more, too."

Ben Gile smiled at Betty, for he was very fond of her. He stroked his white beard, and went on smiling as if he had some pleasant thought in the back of his head. "Well, now, we must decide who has won the prize.

Mrs. Reece, what do you think?"

Mrs. Reece was proud of her Betty, and would rather have had her the generous little girl she was than have her win all the prizes in the world. "I think Jack has abundantly earned the prize."

"And now, children, what do you think?"

"Jack!" they all shouted.

"Jack," said the guide, bringing forward three parcels, "here is the five-dollar gold piece--this will help you buy what you need; here is the book, which will help you to identify what you see; and here is the magnifying-gla.s.s. Remember, my boy, as you look through it, that it is G.o.d's work you are seeing. We have been through the old story of 'Eyes and No Eyes' with you boys. Peter, I'm afraid, goes out and sees nothing. You, Jack, have used your eyes, and already you have learned much that ought to make you a wiser man. As you look through the gla.s.s it is well to reflect that you will never see a cathedral window as beautiful as some wings you look upon, from the clear lights of the cicada's wing to the gorgeous dyes of the moth. You will never see groin or arch or hinge more wonderful than the covers of a wing or the exquisite joint of some little insect. You may travel the world over before you can find, made by man's hand, such mystery and beauty as lie about you in the natural world. All the dynasties of Egypt could not shape the scale on a moth's wing. All the religion of the past can shape nothing that will do the Creator so much reverence as the world He has created, the world we have about us. There, my boy, that is a long sermon, but you will profit by it, for the world will hear of you yet.

"And now there's a little girl in this room who has worked faithfully to find out what she could. She is five years younger than you, Jack, and I want her to have something, too."

For a minute Jack looked troubled; then he said, resolutely, "Let me give her my book, sir."

"No, no, Jack," replied Ben Gile, pleased with the lad's generosity. "I have an extra book here." Betty's face was beaming. "Now let me write in your books; then to supper, around our last camp-fire for this summer."

In a few minutes the children were about the fire, and there was the smell of roasting corn, the sizzle of broiling partridge tied around with bacon, and the fragrance of coffee for the older people. The firelight seemed particularly jolly. Betty was very happy with her book (nor would she be parted from it the next day on the train), and Jack was radiant. They ate and talked and sang about the camp-fire, thought Ben Gile the wisest man in the world, Mrs. Reece the kindest of mothers, hoped that next year would come soon, and wanted to know what stories they were to hear when the long winter was over.

"Perhaps it will be birds," said the guide; "perhaps fish; perhaps flowers; maybe it will be spiders and crabs. Next summer is a long way off. And now I have to go back to my school."

In a short time a line of lanterns was seen swinging and dancing up the hill of Rangeley as the children filed homeward. The summer was over.