Zurich Herald, 1926-11-04, Page 6Fine Quality
kw
.74i
�ru!y satisfyin&.oply 43c per %Z
111
You may not like Joseph Bishop, but this story of the
awakening of his cramped soulwill hold you.
to the last word.
BY SOPHIE." KERR.
PART II.
"Do I hear you correctly, Joseph?'
he asked at last. "You are tering me
that Robert is not dead, but that you
expect hint to die shorly, and that you
wish me to see to it that no other fun
eral, supposing a death occurs in the
weight erhood, shall take precedenc
cf hiss?"
"Yes ," said Bishop. "You see,
heard that Mardy Graham's wife was
pretty bad."
The old minister still stared at hint
"You want me, I gather, to preach
Robert's funeral sermon—when the
.!ane arrives for it—in a way suitable
to your place in the community, as
well -as to give him that 4ribute which
his character deserves?"
"We:1, of course, he's my. Duly boy.'
"Who is with him now? His mo-
ther?"
"Yes, lidolly's there."
J
strength about the house and barn, at
, your bidding. His mother tried? to pre-
vent it, and to shield hien, and you
threatened and taunted her. Not until
she in turn threatened you and told.
_ you she would go back to her people
did you desist, and then only partially.
e "But, look here, Parson.—1 did all
those things at that age. A little
I roughing's good for a boy. Boys
oughtn't to be coddled and petted."
"Be silent, Joseph Bishop, until I
. give you leave to speak. Into this
funeral sermon for your son I shall
put the story of how he grew up a
lovely, promising boy, with a mind so
keen to learn that not even all the
obstacles you put in the way of his
•schooling could prevent him. I shall
tell how he was always taken from
school early in the spring :to help with
the farm work, and how 'he was never
"Why should: dull and brutal men
like you be raven a treasure you can-
not understand nor cherish? X do no
know. All you. have done you justify
to yourself, I have no doubt, by th
Biblical verse that says, 'Children
obey your parents.' Did y+ou ever rear
ma, Joseph Bishop? It is al command
of •equal weight. It says; 'Parents,
provoke not your children to wrath:+
Woe unto you, Joseph Bishop, for .you
have broken your son's life, and his
spirit, and taken his youth from hint,
and justified yourself therein! Woe
• unto you for your thick selfishness,
your vicious self -complacency, that has
become to you a. curse! Get down on
your knees this instant and kneel in
humility before your Maker and pray
that your son's life may yet be spared
to you, and that you may be given an
opportunity to repair xl little of. the
wrong you have done. Offer Him a
broken and contrite heart, and He will
not despise it. This is Ilis glorious
promise to sinners, yea, even 'to such
as you. Down on your knees, I say,
and cover your face and approach
with me the throne of Almighty God,"
The momentous denunciation and
command beat on Joseph Bishop like
whips. Beneath their violence the
great, thick man crumpled down' upon
the floor, a misshapen, sprawling mass
of quivering flesh. His head lay limp
on the seat of the chair and painful
tears oozed slowly from his eyes,
mingling with his sweat. stinging his
flesh, hurting him. His voice, broken
of its surety and arrogance, came in
strange choking words that could
hardly be understood. "O God, he
merciful to me—a sinner," he' stam-
mered.
Old Parson Wayne dropped beside
him. He had preached the greatest
revival sermon of his life.. He. had
kindled to flame the divine spark in a
clod of humanity where it was so faint
as to -seem not to be. He had used the
scalpel of truth to cut through the nn -
penetrable callosities of egotism and
ignorance to°nerves not yet quite in -
sensitized by their thick covering.
Now he lifted up his voice in prayer,
and his petition rose with the scent
of the honeysuckle toward Him who
had created both man and blossom.
A little later the motor truck, driven
at break -neck speed, turned in at the
Bishop farm lane. Beside Joseph on
the driver's seat .sat Parson Wayne,
with somewhat less of the spiritual
magistrate and more of the benign
saint about him. As for Joseph Bishop,
something more humfrom
humble looked fro
his eyes than had been there for many
a day.
"You go in first, will you, Parson?"
he asked. "I'm afraid." So the old
Ivan led the way.
Molly came down to meet them, and
Molly was changed too—a Molly years
yoh;.ger, radiant with hope all through
her faded weariness.
"Just a little while ago," she told
them, "the fever broke, and he come
all sweat, and opened his eyes and
spoke to me as natural as if' he'd just
waked up in the morning. And I gave
him some milk, and he turned' over
and dropped off to sleep like a baby.
Oh, Joe, Doc Pruitt don't know every-
thing. But I tell you—there was some-
thing strange to it, too. Seemed to
me, somehow as if he was getting fur-
ther away and didn't want to come
back—and then, all of a sudden, he did'
want to! So back he coine. It was
like—it was like—a miracle, if you
,:don't think it's wrong to call it that-"
she glanced doubtfully at the old min-
ister.,
The old Ivan smiled,.
"It isn't wrong to call it a miracle,"
he said. "But I have seen a great one
this day." And' he looked at Joseph
Bishop, who had found his fatherhood.
(The End.)
t
e
"No one else?"
"No, not now; but I'm aiming to
fetch Lottie Sanders as I go home, to
cook and keep house till it's over."
"But suppose Robert should die in
your absence, alone there with his
mother. Do you actually mean that
there is no other human being within
call to be near her at an hour like
that'."
Yes, the old minister was certainly
getting in his dotage. He, Joseph
Bishop, never heard so- many fool
questions. Still, he answered then as
best he could.
"She could ring the bell and call -the
nien out of the fields if she really need-
ed anybody. And I'll be back long
before sundown."
There was a long silence in' the
room, while the old Ivan stared at the
younger one. Something in those wise
old brilliant eyes held Joseph Bishop
in a strange sort of hypnosis. It seem-
ed as if the old parson was looking
deep, deep into him, probing him,
searching him, with probes of sharp
metal that cut and tore at some sensi-
rive fibre of him that had never before
been disturbed. He twisted uneasily
in his chair, something of his great
cloak of self-assurance rind -self-
esteem was cut away by those merci-
less eyes.
Aud he had always thought Parson
Wayne a little man. Now, as he rose
behind his desk and Ieaned tower'
Joseph, he seemed to tower in a
strange and awful majesty. His voice
rang out as it used to ring out in great
revivals of the past. He pointed an
accusing finger, straight as a lance,
and like a Iance, its accusation struck
through to the shriveled soul of Joseph
Bishop.
"Yes, Joseph Bishop," said the old
parson, in terrible solemnity, "if your
con Robert dies I will preach his fun-
eral sermon. And it will be such a
funeral sermon as never before was
preached in this town—perhaps in this
world. I will tell you about it. I
shell begin with his babyhood, when he
was a frail and nervous child, made so
because you insisted that his mother
should cook a big dinner and supper
for ,our barn -raising When he was ten
days old, and when she should still
have been in bed. I have verified that
story. From her breast he was suckled
with the weakened nerves and'lowered
vitality that comes from such an out-
rege on nature. That willbe the be-
ginning of my funeral sermon, Joseph
Bishop.
"And the. next thing I shall tell in
that sermon is how, at five years old,
he was taught to weed in the garden
and to do chores far beyond his infant
It
permitted to enter school in the
autumn until the last of the husking
'vas done. Even so, he led his classes.
I shall tell how you denied the request
of your wife and son that the school-
teacher should board with you, and in
• the consideration of the sum of one
pastry dollar a week taken from his
board should give Robert the extra
learning he so craved and thirsted for.
I shall tell how you gave hint no
chance to go to high school, but kept
him on the farm, like as a slave. How
his gallant and questing spirit, still
longing for education, borrowed books
from whomsoever had them, and read
them in secret, drinking up the beauty
and wisdom of the world—yes, in sec - i
ret, knowing well that if you found it
out you would 'beat him. Do you re-
member how he planted flowers
brought from the woods about your
bare and rigid home? And how you
dug them up and threw them among
your swine? How, from time to time,
you gave hirn sickly young. animals that
needed special care and urged him to
nurse them, saying they should be his
own. Once a lamb—wasn't it?—and
once a calf, and once a half-dead colt.
When he had faithfully fulfilled his
part of the contract, you Bold those
animals and kept the money for your-
self."
"I only saved it for hint," cried out.
Joseph Bishop. "He was to have it
when he was twenty-one."
"I believe that you lie," the old
preacher went on pitilessly, "for you
are a grasping man and a hard roan.
An immortal soul was given into your
keeping, an immortal soul, and a beau-
tiful, generous nature, a mind of infin-
ite possibilities. What have you done?
You have chained that boy to• your
plows and cultivators, stalled him
among your cattle. Husks instead of
the bread of life have been his por-
tion. All these things I shall tell in
Robert's funeral sermon.
"And more. It was not poverty in
material riches that made you do this,
Joseph Bishop, for you have prospered
in this world's goods, but the. poverty
and meanness of your own nature.
This illness of which your boy lies dy-
ing came on him because you chose to
hind his body in the hardest, most
monotonous labor, to fetter his winged
spirit, and to shackle his ardent mind.
You will stand before God on Judg-
ment Day his murderer—and as sure-
ly as God rules in his heaven; Joseph
Bishop, you will burn in the lowest pit
of hell!" His voice accused, condemn-
ed, scarified He went on:
"I am ashamed to the depth of my
being that I have done nothing about
this before. I was fond of your son;
I gave him what books I could, talked
to him, encouraged hien to look for-
ward to a time when he would no long-
er he your chattel. I knew when he-
made his last plea to you to be allowed
a little extra schooling, and was de-
nied it, that he had come near to the
breaking point. He had lost hope.
Youth is impatient, and rightly so, for
he day is short and no pian knows
when the night cometh. I should have
old him to leave you, to go his own
'ny in freedom. But the empty con-
ventions of this foolish Tittle world
dboutus held me back. You were not
one of my flock. If I did this I would
e accused of meddling. Now I am
verse. 1 am accessory to the murder
of your son, Joseph Bishop.
sJ2-4t
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,"
It seems to me the crowning touch
to your brutal stupidity that you
should come to me and ask me to
preach your son's funeral sermon
while he still lives. This, I suppose, is
an example of your vaunted forehand-
cdness. I have often heard you brag
about being a forehanded man, Joseph
Bishop, but. I never knew it would lead
you to an act of such callousness and
luck of .feeiiug that I can 1ikee it only
to those wild beasts that cluster round
to kill and perhaps devour the wound-
ed, old, and siekof the pack, At such
a time you leave your wife alone with
your son,, and come to me on such an
errand! 1 cannot express to you the
horror I feel for you, the horror of
what you inust be, to have done this
thing. At first I could not at all be-
t sieve that you meant what you said. .
Ile—"Yes—I was brought up in the
country,"
She—"Weil, you'll never bring me
up there."
Queen Victoria's God -Daugh-
ter Gets Marine Engineer's
Certificate.
The prospect that women soon may
be found on the bridges of Atlantic
liners looms in sight with the taking
of a marine second engineer's "ticket"
by Victoria ])ruiiiaiioncl, twenty -eight-
year-old goddaughter. of Queen Vic-
toria. She Is the first woman to re-
ceive an engineer's certlticate.
She joined the Blue runnel liner
Anchises as junior engineer two years
ago and has made six trips to Aus
traria• and the East. She is rejoining
the liner for more sea experience be
t•oa'e taking the examination for a fiat
engineer's ticket, which will snake hes'
a full-fledged hlacAndrew, qualified to
perform ell the miracles expected
from a Scotsman at sea --but content
to use language which tti him would
be a terrible. handicap.
Miss Drummond has worked all the
usual watches, and it is pointed out,
it would have been less' diff'cult and.
unpleasant to have her ci,nalify for a
master's ticket.
The Bunk.
"Out in the Country where I spent
my vacation, they gave Inc one of.
biose three -season beds."
"Never heard of thein."'
"No spring!"
Mingtd LIntrntnt for tooth*Cha
No Boiling — No Rubbing
Just Rinse with aF'. inso
A package of Rinso is a package of miniature soap
bubbles.
1339 You simply dissolve for,25 seconds the tiny bubbles" in
hot water, soak the clothes a couple of hours, or overs
night, rinse them well in clean water and—that's 411.
Result—clean, sweet-smelling clothes, hours of time
saved and the hand work changed to just rinsing.
Rinso dissolves' the dirt, you rinse it out.
You will never know how easy
it is to do the washing until you've
used Rinso, the greatest time and
labour saver the housewife has
ever known.
YOUTHFUL AND SLENDERIZING
IN LINE.
Decidedly chic is this attractive one-
piece dress with its inverted plait in
skirt front, and long sleeves gathered
into narrow cuff -bands. The collar and
vestee may be made of contrasting
material, and the gathers inshoulders,
and graceful jabots are of the latest
mode. , No. 1339 is for ladies -in sizes
36, 38, 40, 42 and 44 inches bust. Size
38 requires 4 yards 39 -inch figured
:material and 1/4 yard 86 -inch plain
(cut crosswise). 20 cents.
Our' Fashion Book, illustratingthe
newest and most practical styles, will
be of interest to every home dress••
maker. Price of the book 10c the copy.
HOW TO ORDER PATTERNS.
Write your name and address plain-
ly, giving number and size of mull
patterns as you want. Enclose 20c in
stamps or coin (coin preferred; wrap
it carefully) for each number and
address your order to Pattern Dept.;
Wilson Publishing Co., '73 West Ade.
!aide St., Toronto. Patterns sent by
return mail.
A Filling Station.
"You say you've just come from a,
filling station? Why, you won't own
a ear."
"No, but I've just eaten at a cafe."
Minard's Liniment for .bruises.
Sailor's Will on Egg
• Puzzles London Court
When is a will not a-wiii? Whether
the answer is "when it is an egg" is a
problem which all the solemn ma•
cliinery of the probate court in Lon-
don has been set in motion to solve.
The wills Is that of a sailor who short-
ly beforehis death at sea inscribed on
a brown shell of a hen's egg four
words, "Mag everything I possess,"
The egg is in custody at Somerset
House while learned briefs are being
prepared for and against the will's
validity, The chief points at issue • are
whether` a witness was necessary and.
whether the sailor is entitled in this
case to the privilege generally eon=
ceded to sailors at sea of making wills
without conforming to the `customary
rules.
What's in a Plante?
An English tourist in the Highlands
during wet weather said to an old
boatman: "Angus, do yon know where
I could get a mackintosh for m•y
daughter?"
.?" ..... .r'
do not,' said. Angus, but there's
a fide young Macdonald up yonder,.
Ind he's a bachelor. Maybe he'd .shit
the young lady."
Made 'by
Re457 the makers of Lux
Cherry. Stones.
Tinker, Tailor, -
Soldier, Sailor,
Rich Man, Poor Man,
Plowboy,
Thief—
And what about a Cowboy,
Ppliceman, Jailer,
Engine -driver,
Or Pirate Chief?
What about a Postman—or a iieelier
at the Zoo?
What about the Circus Man who 'lets
• the people through?
And the man who takes the pennies
for the roundabouts and swings?
Or the man who plays the organ, and
the other man who sings?
What about a Conjurer with rabbits in
his pockets?
What about a Rocket Man whoa' al-
ways making rockets?
Oh, there's such a lot of things to do
and such a lot to lie
That there's always lots of cherries on
my little cherry tree!
—A. A. Milne.
Loreine: A Horse.
Her slender legs
Quivered above the soft grass,
Her hard hooves
Danced among the dandelidns.
Her great dark eyes
Saw all that could be seen.
Her large lips
Plucked at my coat -sleeve.'
All the wisdom of the prophets
Vanished into laughter.
As Loreine, lifted her small foot
And pawed the air.
—Arthur Davison Melte.
After
washing
a(G!y(S+(Gn the hands
bcauti£uily ,
white :incl '
3
smooth
ash
To prevent chapped het etv
Angel.
At Ivy window there's an angel
Robed in flame
Orange, emerald, vermilion!
Countless treasure—not a trillion
(Though you heaped it to the -sky)
Of the gems on earth could buy
Such magnificence of color,
Such release from gray and dolor,
All things tame, -d's
As this wondrous angel brings
(0 the ravishing evangel!,)
In the splendoieof his wings—...
Orange, emerald, vermilion,
GoId of sunset, rose of dawn—
And his name?
'Tis tire maple• on the lawn!
--Edna Dean Proctor.
The great thing in life is to learn to
_earn and to keep on .earning to learn.
pew e
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