The Little Gleaner Part 16

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FOX SEES THE EAR, THE RABBIT SEES THE TAIL.]

Mr. Webber was so pleased with the cleverness of the fox that he would not betray the trick, but amused himself on many occasions by watching the fox baffle the hounds.

Sometimes the mother fox chooses a hollow tree, instead of a burrow, for her nursery.

In April, 1868, a strange discovery was made in Warwickshire, seven dead cubs having been found in the top of a pollard oak. It was clear that the mother had been killed, and that the poor little cubs had died of hunger.

The cubs, when very young, are odd-looking little creatures--not in the least like their parents. They are pale brown in colour, have short, snub noses, like those of pug dogs, and little, short, pointed tails, not at all like the beautiful "brushes" into which they will grow in course of time.

The courage of the fox is wonderful. A fox was on one occasion sent to Mr. Bartlett for the purpose of being stuffed. It had only three feet, and, on opening it, Mr. Bartlett found the missing foot in its stomach!

The animal had clearly been taken in a trap, and had freed itself by biting off the foot by which it was caught. We can understand why it should bite off the foot by which it was detained, but why it should eat its own foot seems rather puzzling. I am inclined to think that it did so by mere instinct, which made it eat any morsel of bleeding flesh that came between its jaws.

[If foxes are only fit to be hunted down, why are they preserved for that cruelty?--ED.]

ONE POOR STONE.

Two masons were working together on the rear wall of a church, when one stopped the other just as he was putting a stone in its place.

"Don't put in that stone," he said; "it is flakey, and will soon fall to pieces."

"I know it isn't a very good one, but it is so handy, and just fits here. n.o.body will see it up here, and it is too much trouble to get another."

"Don't put it in. Take time to send for another. That stone won't stand the weather, and when it falls the whole building will be damaged."

"I guess not. It won't hurt us, so here goes."

Then he lifted the stone into its place, poor, and loose-grained, and flakey as it was, covered it over with mortar, and went on with his work. n.o.body could see the stone, and none knew of its worthlessness but the two masons, and the church was finished and accepted.

But time and the weather did their work, and soon it began to flake and crumble. Every rain-storm and every hot, sultry day helped its decay, and it soon crumbled away. But that was not all, nor the worst. The loss of the stone weakened the wall, and soon a great beam which it should have supported sunk into the cavity, a crack appeared in the roof, and the rain soon made sad havoc with ceiling and fresco; so a new roof and ceiling, and expensive repairs, were the result of one poor stone being put in the place of a good one.

Each one of us, young or old, is building a structure for himself. The structure is our character, and every act of our lives is a stone in the building. Don't work in poor stones. Every mean action, every wrong act or impure word, will show itself in your after life, though it may pa.s.s unnoticed at first. Let every act and word of every day be pure and right, and your character will stand the test of any time.

A MORNING'S WALK IN A COUNTRY LANE.

It is pleasing, during the bright summer time, to rise early and, if our lot is so cast, to stroll into the country lanes and breathe the pure air of heaven, inhale the sweet scent of the hay, and gaze upon G.o.d's beautiful creation around us, and, if possible, learn some of the many lessons which even a tiny flower or a feeble insect may be able to teach us.

One Monday morning during the last summer, when staying in Hampshire, we had such a walk, the memory of which, and its profitable lessons, are still fresh upon our minds.

Leaving the town where we were staying, we quickly found ourselves between the hedgerows, and our first impulse was to turn at once into the green fields, but another feeling led us to keep to the lane.

Was that change of plan the result of chance? Nay; the great Ruler of all things, who guides the flight of a sparrow, as surely orders the footsteps of His children.

John Knox had a usual seat at his table, with his back to the window. A sudden impulse led him to take another seat. That night the a.s.sa.s.sin's bullet came through the window, and but for an overruling Providence, Knox would have lost his life.

How many such instances might be related, which shows that even more surely than the smallest wheel of some vast machinery is as readily controlled as the largest, so surely does Infinite Wisdom control all the great machinery of life, from its most momentous events down to the smallest circ.u.mstance, such as the movement of a leaf. "If a pestilence stalk through our land, we say, 'The Lord hath done it.' Is it not also His doings when an aphis creepeth on a rosebud? If an avalanche fall from the Alps, we tremble at the will of Providence. Is not that will also concerned when the sere leaf falls from the poplar?"

Pursuing our walk, we soon found that we were in the most delightful of country lanes, with high hedgerows and overhanging trees, that formed a most delightful shade from the fierce burning sun, which, even at that early hour, was almost unbearable. What must be the sufferings of a traveller in the desert, with the fierce orb of day beating down upon his head, as mile after mile he traverses the burning sand without shade or water? How grateful to him must be "the shadow of a great rock in a weary land," or some delightful Elim, with its seventy shady palms, and its twelve refreshing wells of water!

But there is yet another person to whom a shade is more delightful than even this desert traveller, and that is, a poor sinner upon whom is beating down the threatened wrath of an offended G.o.d.

When Thomas Bilney, as a young man, was feeling this, he endeavoured for a long time to find a shelter in some of the foolish and deceptive lies of the Romish Church. He gave his money for Ma.s.ses and performed his penances till his purse was empty, and his body reduced to great weakness, and yet no shelter could he find in these from the wrath of G.o.d. At length he purchased a Greek Testament, and there he found the blessed shade, for with delight he read therein, "This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief." Well might he exclaim, as he sat down under the shadow of the cross, with great delight, "Oh, blessed saying of St. Paul! Oh, blessed saying of St. Paul!"

Dear young reader, have you felt your need of this precious shade?

Presently we noticed in the hedge a rose-bush, a large portion of which was hanging down broken--doubtless the work of some thoughtless person, who had plucked the flowers in such a reckless manner as to leave a sad memento of his thoughtless action. But people who live in gla.s.s houses must be careful what stones they throw at others. That little boy, for instance, was just as thoughtless who played with his ball in so careless a manner as to break two windows in one week. That little girl, too, was equally thoughtless who, when left at home to take care of baby, carelessly left it on the bed while she went up the street to see some dancing dogs, and who found, on her return, that the baby had fallen on the floor, and had so injured its head as to nearly result in its death.

Ah! and how many are now in our workhouses or prisons who would have to confess they were brought there because they did _not think_ what trouble their thoughtless actions would bring upon them! Yea, we fear that there are many among the lost who would have to make the same sad confession. May the Lord cause each of our young readers to think of what will be the sad consequence of seeking only after earthly pleasure.

It will be worse than a destroyed rose-bush. It may be destroyed health--destroyed reputation--destroyed prospects in life--yea, and, if grace prevent not, destroyed happiness for ever.

As we proceeded further up the lane, we noticed that the hedges on both sides were blooming with wild roses, which were truly charming to behold. Our first thought on seeing them was of the dear ones at home (many miles away), and how we should like to transport them to this shady bower, to enjoy what we were beholding. But, as this desire was impracticable, the next thought was, to gather some of these roses and take them home, that they, too, might, in some measure, share in our pleasure. Henceforth our endeavours to please others made our walk doubly pleasant.

A selfish person, young or old, can never be happy. But find one who tries to share his pleasures or comforts with others, and he is surely happy--like the little girl who stretched her small cloak round her young brother to shelter him from the wintry blast, although, strictly speaking, the cloak was scarcely big enough for herself. And how happy was that little girl who nursed a sick cat in the garret, and shared her meals with it, till p.u.s.s.y was quite well again!

Boys and girls, share your pleasures with others.

The next thought was, to look after the little roses, knowing they would last longer than the big ones.

Yes, fellow-teachers, look after the little rosebuds just blooming into life. Who can tell but what the Master may use you to gather them from the world, that they may, by His grace, be prepared for His mansion above?

_But the thorns!_ Not a single little rosebud without a thorn, yet so beautiful in other respects. Before Adam's fall, roses grew in Eden without thorns. Thorns are a badge of the curse, and even the smallest child has the thorn of sin. And how often we see it manifest! The thorn of pride, the thorn of self-will, the thorn of temper, the thorn of deceit.

But, dear young friends, are these thorns a trouble to you? Would you like their power destroyed, and guilt pardoned? Listen, then, to G.o.d's way of salvation.

As we gathered the roses, the thorns p.r.i.c.ked our hands. But never mind that. We love them too much to mind a few p.r.i.c.ks.

Have you ever thought how the thorns (as long as your finger) were plaited into a crown, and pierced the head of Jesus? Yes, He loved His children so much that He willingly endured even the "nails," as well as the thorns, that they might be for ever saved from the wrath to come.

A child once cried for fear when a wasp was near, but his mother said, "Don't fear, my child! It has left its sting in my hand. It won't hurt you."

Yes, Jesus has been p.r.i.c.ked and stung by sin that His people may for ever be delivered from its fatal power.

May you, dear young friends, from a living faith, be enabled to commit your soul into His keeping who is able to "save unto the uttermost all that come unto G.o.d through Him."

But how easily many of the roses scattered! We only touched the branch, and they were gone. Such is life! We may be in full bloom one day, but in a moment we may be carried into eternity. "We all do fade as a leaf."

The longest life is but brief. Then well may we pray--

"Prepare me, gracious G.o.d, To stand before Thy face; Thy Spirit must the work perform, For it is all of grace."

EBENEZER.