The Signal, 1917-12-13, Page 14OF THE LORD'S HOSTS
By Edith Brown Ktrkwpod
•
rumble. The
FROM the distance came a soft the training camps of England.
figure of a wo- Th had stepped from boyish
man rose from among the lilacs suit • into harsh khaki. They
and syringes of x garden and stood had left well -cared -for homes for tent
listening. Fairfield, a village of and barracks. They had gone as boys;
spring glory, lay before her. The they wrote as men.
knoll, beyond, w•us sending up its vivid . "Hat's off to you, Mother, penned
shoots of grass; young vines, nestling Bob, "and to all the other mothers
among the violets, had begun their who have been trying to rear men in -
summer wanderings. The wood, in stead of just feeding boys. I never
the ; knew before what you had ,done. I
the near distance, 6ickonin
journeyman into the shadow of its w nothing. This is work." speak. When she lifted her head a
folding buds, was filled with promise. Though they labored, they were no new light shone in her ey•+s. The
Fairfield lived. I better soldiers, fired with no higher dark night of resentment was break-
- Again she heard the'aoft rumble and patriotism, than the women, who hav- ing away.
twined• her head, bending forward in- ing given them to their country, knelt When Kathe, ,.looked from her
tartly. Distant thunder? No. The deity among the rows of growing window the next morning a soft snow
sky was too blue. Drums? She lift• I things ' as falling. It was as many other
ed her head high to catch the sound' Then came France and the trenches. Christmas Days had been but it bore
more.elearly. led, that was what it Jamie sent hack word of their first an addod sacredness. To Katherine,
was! It was the drums coming as it encounter with the enemy. Katherine somehow, came the interpretation of
. in echo of that tierce struggle which dull -eyed, brought the news to Mrs. the snow's falling as if it meant to
had leaped the seas to demand Benson. The asters and the dahlias hide the sordid things and wrap the let the tears run down their cheeks.
fresh effort from the new continent. now bloomed beside the ripened pro- world in a mantle of its intended "'And we're not fighting for per -
She caugtut, more closely, the flowers duce of the garden and the fields of purity. conal gain, Mother! Think of being
she had been gathering, and pressed
yellow had changed to fields of stub- Down the village street she saw able to fight just to wave the banner
her lips together. ble. They were battlefields shorn of fresh tracks leading up Mother Ben- of peace and freedom over all the
"Mother Benson! Mother Benson!" of all but their glory. The hills son's front steps. She hurried into world! 1 wonder—are we of the Lord's
gaoled She started as if a moment waved in their yellow goldenrod; the her clothes and ran down the walk. hosts? Mother, it's great to be a
had been interrupted and raised her woods, still hc:koning and promising, She saw no one except Captain man!'"
changed eyes to greet a young girl'who ran to their scarlet dressings. Douglas, crippled veteran of the Boer Katherine, now peering intently
down the garden's pebbled walk. If Here and there a tint of yellow shot war, who long had served Fairfield as over Mrs. Benson's shoulders to read
e• tell you this is no place for a good-for-
lish it with judgment and with justice! time. 'Well be thinking of the turkey
from henceforth even forever. The lot other days and the good times we've
zeal of the Lord of Hosts will perform I had back home. Thank God you've
this.' sons to give. We're fighting His
"Isaiah said that lung before the cause, Mother—His cause which
coming of the Pru.ce of Peace, Kath- means the peace and freedom of the
erine. He came but He came with the world. Maybe you can't get that
sword and He had to fight and die, angle of it, waiting back home there
fighting, for the rigt.t. He is the I — "
Prince of Peace, Katherin., but His I "0 Bob!" broke in Katherine. "You
is the peace that comes when evil is don't even know your own- "
conquered. The zeal of His hosts "'—but that's what we see,' " Mrs.
will do, sometime, what Isaiah Benson read on. "'You used to read
prophesied. To -morrow is Christmas us something about "the zeal of the
Day. Can't we—you end I—rejoice Lord of hosts." It comes to me again
that our boys are of that host?" and again—and that old Battle Hymn
For a long time Katherine did not about Christ's being born across the
seas. I wonder if it didn't mean
"borne," toot We're fighting for the
right, Mother, and we're going to win
the right sometime.
"'I v-ish you cot Id have seen what
we have seen over here. Soldiers,
worn with Lattle, greeted us with
shouts of comradeship. Children ran
to welcome us as if we were their
protectors, old womer knelt as we
passed by and men bowed with age
the sun glints in her
Tri hair, if into the crimson but this was merely its postmaster. He smiled reassur-
the whiteness of throat and temple, if some merry trees' choice of sunnier ingly in response to her "Good morn -
the flowing lines of her slender figure costuming. Fairfield still lived. ing. Captain Douglas."
-meant youth, she was young; but > Mrs. Benson and Katherine, cad "Caller? Already'." she questioned,
from her eyes shone a terrified, ap- ning, drying, preserving, talked but bursting into Mott-er Benson's room.
pealing light. a`ininoling of the under- little. Their thoughts were too filled "Mother Benson, what is it? You've
standing of age with the hope of with memories of the boys for whose some news?"
youth. enjoyment in other years, the can- I Mrs. Benson's face was wreathed
"Mother Benson!" she cried, halt in •ning-and drying and preserving had, in joy -proclaiming smiles as she drew
whisper. "Do yon hear the drums?" been done. Mrs. Benson's silence was a letter from the folds of her waist.
• "Well, Katherine?" the older woman reverent; Katherine's, resentful. I "It came just now, Katherine. It's
giiestioned. "This time it' takes Hard lines that had no right to from Bob. Captain Douglas brought
Jatmie?" creep i4 upon a fair young counten- it. ,The office isn't open to -day hut
The girl drew ih her breath and laid ante, had formed about the girl's he knew it Was from the boys ar.d he
• her right hand unconsciously over her me uth. Mrs. Benson watched them could not make me wait until to -mor -
left where her fingers touched with come ar.d and'rstoud the tumult that row. Didn't I tell you the Lord's
caresses a' ring, glittering happily. raged within the girl. Shp sought I hosts were all about? Hear what Bob
"Yes," she answered simply. "He the papers- eagerly, readind of the I days:
left Istat ni tht. All the boys from drives and counter -drives, the attacks "'Mother, we're all right. 1 don't
the district le ve this morning from and counter-attacks and wender_�•know when this letter. will reach you
Dover. I said good -by last night. silently. but it should be along about Christthas
Somehow I could not go to Dover to Autumn came. Spring- holds its
see eaim—march away.d 1 had not summer
and thereforenbrings therefore
hope; AT THE POST OFFICE PARCEL COUNTER
--dreamed—we could hear—" summer. its fruition and therefore the
-She stopped.' A fainter echo of the realization of hope; but autumn is the
-drums rumbled across 'he fields. Then acid test of man. The asters and the
Bob's lines with her, slipped her arms
around the older woman.
"Or the, mother of men!" she added.
"Katherine." said Mrs. Benson, "it's
Christtnas Day."
"And it's snowing!" cried the girl.
"Remember how Bob and John and I
always waited for the first snow so
we could make pattern tracks over
the garden? Look at it now, Moth-
er Benson! Isn't it too lovely for
words? Everything snowy white and
peaceful after the hard work of the
summer. Yet it looks just alive!"
They pushed aside the curtain and
watched the white covering spread
over the ravages of winter. Mrs.
Benson's eyes wandered to the flake -
laden lilac bush where once she had
knelt, and let them rest there holding
her secret.
she th{ew herself, sobbipg into the parts, p �
Woman's ��,ghs They Bring Happy Me
d•
with the abandon of e-onfidential youth ' dahlias have passed; the goldenrod
e- Though the Gif May Be Packed to the Accompaniment
s the woodland droops into fadedmortes to the
arms of the silent woman before her. brown and the spirits of human be- I _ '
"I can't` let him go, Mother Benson! ings sag. Then came winter and dullBoys in the Trenches and on the Stormy Seas.
I can't! I can't! He's all I -have—he's December days. I C TRING is booming.
—he's—O Mother Benson, 1 love him From across the seas came rumors J Brown paper is at a permium.
so!" and more rumors. Mrs. Benson, Kath- And every candy shop and
Mother Benson's eyes closed as if in erine, the other women who had re- grocer's in Canada , has echoed for
closing they turned a precious key main_d behind, were playing the war : weeks past with the same inquiry:
upon the world. She bent to lay her game of woman—waiting and sus- I "Have you got a box to were?"
lips against the head pressing for pense. The letters from the boys had I Grubby youngsters have asked the
of a
parcel on the back of her baby's car-
riage.
The woman with the baby carriage
knit her brows as she walked along.
She mentally checked the various
packages in her parcel, and could not
find where she had misjudged the
sympathy against her shoulder. been full of the activity of their new' question, and have either received a weight.
She had no daughters. Her two life. John's last ,otter to his Moth-' curt "No!" or have gone rushing home "Too heavy!" she explained to her
sons, among the first to respond to er said: ' with a shallow cardboard affair that eldest born, a sturdy youngster of
ttieie country's call for help, had been "Tell Katherine that Jamie is a sol- I could not possibly brave its proposed eleven, when she reached home.
She was too pre -occupied to notice
h sons and daughters. Katherine dier that is a soldier. She'd better be
Churchill, motherless daughter of her proud of him."
girlhood friend, had crept into her own It was a boy's jollity -merriment et
nook s Mrs. Benson's heart, there to the door of probable death but it was I more important to them than choeo- her; she only mildly
give beck, in devotion, full payment. written with thought only of victory. lates, and wise housewives have ami)- surprising willingness in the offer he
Their bond had been more than love Kathetine heard it with whitening ingly. drawn forth their ideal boxes' made to go end "clean the chickens,
for the d
journey on land and sea; girls have the red flush that commenced to creep
willingly passed copper and silver
over the counter for the box that is up his neck, or the quick look he gave
dared at a
r woman who had belonged lips•
. They were as the time- "A soldier?" she remarked cynical-
towhom the ivy clings ly. "A man who kills other men? Can
b t to whom it gives fresh you think of it, Mother Benson? Our
tngmq. therine, boys—your boys, my Jamie, anxious
relived her own girl- to get :nto the trenches to kill other
to them bo
. beaten wall
rt
beauty in its
Mrs. Benson ha
hood. ' men—
Soddenly the girl stood erect. "No, no, Katherine!" interrupted
"Mother Benson, this is a cruel, Mrs. Benson. "You forget—not
wickedly cruel war. If I were a mar. anxious to kill men but to save na-
-oh, if only I were a man!—I'd kill tions."
the men who made it possible!" Her "Perhaps," answered Katherine.
eyes glowed. She had not stopped to Then the letters stopped. Mrs.eBen-
wipe from them their unshed tears. son, her heart sore, forgot her own
"How God must hate this universe he anxiety in her effort to divert Kath -
has created!" She clenched her hands
and shut her teeth defiantly. "How
Satan must gloat, how 'he must laugh
at all this twaddle of 'peace on earth,
good will—'
"Katherine!" Mrs. Benson's voice,
raised above the girl's growing anger,
was soft. "God has ordered the uni-
verse a very long time. We had best
not set our wisdom above His."
"1 know, Mother Benson," she ans-
wered, quieted. "I• know. It's wrong,
it's dreadful of me to talk in this way.
But Jamie's all I have!" she broke nut nese. That's what it is to me. It is
again impetuously. An instant later the pushing aside of all that is good.
she pressed her hands against her lips If that is what it means then Chris -
as if in fear that Other words might tianity, this civilization of which we
escape. have boasted, has failed. We call
"Forgive me," she pleaded. "Bob Christ the Prince of Peace. Is this
aril John are all you have, too. You peace? Mother Benson," She rose to
gave them. I don't understand. How her feet, "if Jamie or Bob or.John are
can you be calm?" killed, if our brave boys who have
She turned and walked swiftly from gone to fight do not come back, there
the garden. is no Guiding Right!"
Mrs. Benson watched the young /"Katherine!" Mrs. Benson gripped
figure, bowed suddenly beneath the the arm of her chair.
weight of heartache, and drew n long "0 Mother Benson," she cried wear -
sigh. Then she lifted her eyes to j'he fly, "tell me! Give me the vision of
heavens and while her ears resounded righteousness in this cruel war! Make
to the distant roll of the drums she me see that it 1s for Good that our
prayed: I boys have been taken from us." She
"O God, keep me calm! Let me not clutched the older woman's hands.
waver In this hour of Thy need of me.
(live me the bravery of these sons who
have gone to fight Thy battles. Grant
peace to those to whom the vision has
not come. Guide Youth along the
pathway to nn terititrding."
• With a sob she dropped to her
knees, her altar the budding lilac hush
whose crisp young branches closed
above her as if in blessing.
Beyoad the lilacs and the syringes
to Mrs. Benson's garden were rows
which had been sown with prayer. The
knoll, where the vines and the violets
had been wont to grow, sprang Into
being as sprouting corn. Beyond the.
woods waved miles of growing grain,
silent soldiers of the fields.
From Bob and John Benson and
Ssatie 1tlsedot ald rams word of labor
erjne's mind. o
become experts in the art of
If only I could have borne his havethat she had never packed --a weighty
name, Mother Sanson," she said;
scout's knife. Wedged between the
quietly and witiout preface one day king
The worsen who Stood at the counter ,blades was a grimy piece of paper,
"Bob and John—were yours, Jamie f one post -office on Saturday morn- bearing the words: "Thought this
was not yet—" ir:g showed typical results of the new might be useful.—Love from Tom."
"I know, dear," Mrs. Benson finish- art that we have learnt. • Her first feeling was indignation for
ed. Round, square, oblong, of all shapes the extra trouble to which she had
"I wish I had your eyes, Mother and sizes, skillfully knotted, lapelled been put, and she moved quickly and
Benson," the girl went on, still quiet- and finished, the parcels for the fight- ominously towards the back door.
ly. "I wish I had. I wish I had the ing-men wa edtheir' turn in the arms And then she paused. Sounds of a
'
faith to see that all of this means of the moths wives, sweethearts, frantic clearing -up in the chicken-
more than cruelty, passion, wicked- sisters, and da titers.
The queue of Waiting women watch-
ed with interest the assistant behind
the counter as she weighed u;, the
parcels.
Trouble in the Poat Office
"Something loose inside;" she re-
marked, shaking one parcel.`.
"Only nuts," explained the owner
from some safe retreat.
For Canada is packing.
What the Women Learn
up."
When the hack door had alamm .d
behind him she unfastened the parcel
and carefully took out the top pack -
Thousands of women in thou ds __� white t=rtvetope on top alio
of homes have- surveying the laid aside --it would hot have interest -
store of Christmas goodies that they ed you; it only contained a soft, dare
have selected for their fighting -men, little curl, cut t;rom the heal of the
and have been puzzling how best to baby whose father had never yet seen
pack the lot in such a small space— it. She took out the box of dates, the
how to get it just that ounce undertobacco, the woolly start that bore the
weight. t_ labored inscription: "A Happy Christ -
For over three years the women mas to My Daddy! I knitted it all by
have packed parcels; for - three myself."
Christmas Days have they sent afar , And then she gave an exclamation.
thea. token. of Christmas cheer. They I Her fingers closed over something
tri or-crecki `lit
kg/
"Don't let me get hard, Mother Ben-
son, don't let me—help me to keep on
believing," she pleaded. "I don't
want to forget. I —want—to—be-
neve."
For some moments Mrs. Benson slat
as tf in prayer.
"Katherine," she whispered. "You
want me to tell yoii? You really want
it? This is what I see: 'For unto us
a Child is born, unto us a Son is given:
and the government shall be upon His
shoulders: and Hie name shall he call-
ed Wonderful, Counsellor, Thy mighty
God, The everlasting Fath, r, The
Prince of Peace.
"'Of the increase of His govern-
ment and peace there shall be no end,
upon the throne of David and upon
His kingdom, to order it and to estab-
housereached her ears. She looked
again at the scout's knife—his dearest
possession; she read again his - care-
fully -written greeting; she divined
something of the shy affection with
which he had secreted the gift; and
with a queer little smile, she moved
hack to the kitchen, removed some
other article from the box, packed in
ooxioui.ly. the knife, and went with the re -cord -
"Put the list of contents outside," ed parcel to the garden.
was the instruction given to another. -Tom!" she cried.
"Write on name and address of the A flushed face and a tousled head
sender," yet another parcel -holder was appeared at the door of the chicken's -
told. run.
"Over weight!" "Run up will. this to the pont-of-
Heads craned forward In the wait- fice," said his mother, quietly survey-
ing line, and looked with compassion ing hide. "It'll be all right this
at the woman who was given this- time." \
damping information. Love and Luxury
"But it can't be," remarked the I With one swift upward glance of his
owner. "1 checked the weight of ' grey eyes, he took the parcel and fled.
everything so carefully." I The parcel young Tom handed over
"There's the scales!" somewhat the counter lay later that day with the
sarcastically remarked the assistant,: one belonging to the.girl In the fur
as she turned to the next comer. coat.
"Over weight!" • • 1
The post -girl pushed them over •
Again the heads moved as the 'next separately to the ever-growing stack.
parcel was also condemned. A tinge Their wrappings were not equally
of anxiety crept into the faces of the spick and span, end maybe the eon -
waiting queue as they noted that two
tents of one were more luxurious than
parcels in auccesston were handed those of the other. Yet somehow they
back, while the two unfortunate pack- fell together. Maybe the ringlet from
ers gazed et each other commiaerat- the hairs head was whispering to
ingly. the other silky ringlet that also lay in
Tmn's Gift an envelope In the next parcel --a
"We are both unlucky this morn- golden lock, scented by a few late rose
ing," smiled the fair girl in the fur leaves plucked from a Canadian gar -
coat, as she held open the door for the 1 dem
woman, who was placing her rejected With the (losing of the post office
The sande that count the year are low within
the upper glass,
They slip away, these little years, so swiftly
do they pass;
They flit like shadows to and fro the long*
we may live—
But, ah, they take no more from us than they
may freely give!
They take the song, mayhap, bat leave the
echoes sweet that hum -
The year is dying, but there is another year
to come.
Then why gaze at the trickling sand with
heavy sigh and frown ?
Turn it down! Turn it down!
There are smiles and laughter waiting where
the other joys came from.
Turn it down! Turn it down!
There's another year to come.
Another year is coming --now its hailing call
we hear—
With golden smiles to pay us for each jewel
of a tear,
With clover nodding in the rain and dew upon
the rose,
With silver store of moonlight, and with
ivory of snows,
With lilting laughter for the lips that long
time have been dumb -
The year is dying, but there is another year
to come. •
Why hold the glass and watch the sand wlth
gloomy sigh and frown?
Turn it down! Tarn it down!
The melodies of joys to be already throb and
thrum—
Turn it down! Tarn it down!
There's another year to come.
It is the twilight of the year—the sands are
almost gone;
;tit turn the glass and wait to see the glory
of the dawn,
And wait to hear the mellow chord that
• pulses with each word - =.
That will build ap-T*e coming song --the song
you've never heard.
Why brood above the days now gone, and
seek to find the sum
Of bitterness and happiness? Another year's
to come.
So turn the glass and start anew the current
golden brown—
Turn it down! tarn it down!
There are light and laughter larking where
the other joys came from.
Turn it down! Turn it down!
There's another year to corse.
doors, the mounting of the cumber-
some mass of Christmas parcels ceas-
ed. . The- dark -brown heap was only
lighted by the colored stamps that cast
spots of red, white, and blue.
"Just a mass of things to eat and
wear,"one might have said, if one had
not known of the loving hands that
packed tjie contents, of the sentiment
that lured beneath the string and
paper, of the earnest hopes—ay, and
of the prayers—that were inextricably
mixed with the packages.
Samples of Sincerity
These parcels that go from homes
are different from those that are sent
out from the big stores. Scientific
election and packing may make the
latter welcome, but there is a woman's
touch, a home note, about the former
that will ever make them dearer "over
there."
They say I am sentimental.
What of It? So 1s Tommy, sn is
,Tack. It is a virtue I would proudly
own with thins.
Of this much I am sure --that when
the Christmas parcels reach the
trenches and the men -o' -war, some of
the loving words uttered who, they
were packed will wing their way to
the hearts of the recipients; some of
the loving thoughts that hovered over
their packing will creep nut and cast
a sweetness through those mud -fouled,
death -haunted burrows where stand
the men who endure for us --will
crests a fair mirage for those watch-
dogs of the sea.
The snapping of the strings will
I,osen the spirit of Christmas eheer
and good -will, of gratitude and con-
fidence, that we women at home would
send to our fighting men this Christ-
mastide. Our parcels will breathe to
them of love and home of that which
shall come again when the dark days
of war are past.
God -speed to the ships thnt• carry
our gifts! They carry so much mote
with them than mere parcels—they
carry the hearts of the women, --H. L.
JAW SIGN OF LOVELINESS.
lskimo Girl Who Can Chew Most
Popular With Men.
The Eskimo husband requires that
his wife shall possess two essential
accomplishments. She must he able
to trim a lamp, and she must he able
to mend her husband's clothes. This
mending is not the kind of thing con.-,
mon in Southern Canada. The gar-
ments are heavy, and they must be
manipulated with bone needles and
leather thongs. The wife also mends
her husband's boots. Before she be-
gins, she is obliged to chew the tough
leather into comparative softness.
Eskimo girls marry when they are
twelve, and the girl with the strongest
law has the most suitors, the Eskimo
being an eminently practical person.
One of the most important features
of the foal conservation programme
of Europen countries has been the nets.
versal drying of fruits and vegetables,