The Sunday School Advocate (December 13, 1884)
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Volume XLIV—Number 5. Whole Number 1077. Life’s Little Ship. Onzy a little ship, Building upon the shore; Only a sailing-boat The bright waves dancing o’er: Even so life’s little boat Is launched with gladsome song, ’Mid murm’ring breezes fair It merrily sails along. Only a battered wreck Lying on rocky shore ; The death-song of her crew The waves sing evermore ; Life, too, all fair at morn, Oft closed ere set of sun ; Thrice blest if not a wreck When work of life is done ! Good Out of Evil. BY MRS. MARY WYTHE DODGE. ‘‘Ir Mr. Brown does say it is true, I don’t believe any such non- sense as that good comes out of evil.” ‘Neither do I! If I get run over, and my leg is cut off, it is evil, and no one can make me believe it is a good thing.”’ ‘‘That’s so! bad is bad, and good is good, and that’s all there is to it.” ‘‘] don’t believe, boys, that you understood what Mr. Brown meant,” said the smallest boy of the four, who walked on the curb-stone of the sidewalk, care- fully balancing himself with his hands, and yet occa- sionally slipping down with one foot so that his shoul- der hit the boy nearest him. ‘What do you think he meant, Johnny Masters?” asked the tallest one of the boys. “T can’t explain it, but I know if you had asked him he would have proved he was right.” “Well, if you can’t explain it, just tell us what good will ever come out of Garfield being shot and killed,” said Johnny’s best friend, Fred Burton. “That’sit!” “Just tellus!’ ‘* Why, I remember hearing father and lots of people pray for him to get well, and he died! Now, what good did it do, Johnny Masters?” The three boys, interrupting each other, and then letting Fred have the last words, turned and faced Johnny with expressions that seemed to say, ‘Get over that if you can.”’ “JT told you I couldn’t explain it, boys, but I know it is so,” said Johnny, in a choking voice, for he remem- bered another good man whose life had ceased in: this world during those warm summer months. The boys remembered, too, and after silence for a moment began to talk of their plans for Thanksgiving. Johnny con- tinued silent until he said ‘‘ good-bye ” at his own gate. “JT don’t know howto explain it, but I know it is so,” he said to himself, as the boys went on. ‘ Didn’t _mother tell me that ‘all things work together for good to them that love Him,’ and there mast be some evil in those ‘all things;’ but it does seem all evil that mother has to work so hard just to keep us alive, and that no matter how hard I work we can’t have any Thanks- giving Jike the other fellows; but I guess I'll wait be- Mii oa A | Y] Hh} f Wy fore I go to crying like a baby, and may be some good will come out of it yet.” As Johnny opened the gate his little sister came run- ning to meet him, and seeing his moist eyes, said, ; ‘“ What for my Johnny ky?” ‘T am not crying, pet,” said Johnny. ‘Then what for my Johnny feel bad?” ‘‘°Oause mamma has to work so hard, and Johnny aint big enough to earn money to havea Thanksgiving.” ‘“ What’s a Thanksgiving, Johnny ? ” | ‘ Well, pet, it is turkey, and pudding, and pie, and thanking God.” ‘What for, Johnny? For the turkey?” ‘‘T guess so, but you ask too many questions. See, here is my SunpAy-ScHooL, ApvooaTE with a pretty picture of a little girl. I don’t believe she asks as many questions as you do.” ‘© What does she do, Johnny? Does she pray?” ‘Dear, dear, how you do question a fellow! Here, I'll read you what she does,” and sitting on the steps, while Lena put her head on his shoulder so she could see the pretty picture, Johnny read until weary. *‘ Mother, just come and see how pretty Lena looks,” whispered Johnny that evening to his mother. ‘She has got out of bed, and is standing at the window in the moonlight.” The two went softly to the bedroom door, and were just in time to hear her say, ‘‘ Now, Lord, I fordot when I told you my prayer to say, ‘Please give Johnny a Fanksgiving with some turkey in it,’ but I told younow. For Jesus’ sake. Amen.” “QO Johnny, Johnny!” said his mother, after they returned to the sitting-room, ‘that is your work, and how can we get the darling ‘a Fanksgiving with turkey in it,’ and how can we fail to get it after that prayer? ”’ ‘“ We can’t get one, mother, but don’t worry. I couldn’t help telling Lena about it, because she would know.” ‘ Would know what?” ral Win il Hil ‘¢ What made me feel badly.” ‘And was that it?” ‘‘Not exactly, mother, but the boys were all talking about what good times they would have on Thanksgiving, and I believe I got jealous.” ‘That wasn’t like you, John- ny.” “T know it, but Mr. Brown said in Sunday-school that good would come out of evil, and the other boys did not believe it, and I did; and then it seemed asif no good could come out of your hav- ing to work so hard, and though I do my very best, and am will- ing to work all day, I can’t get enough money to even buy a tur- key! It seemed hard!” “So itis, my boy. No hard- ship can be a pleasure in itself, but these very hardships may make you a stronger man.” ‘‘ That’s so, mother, for though I am so little for my age, I can throw any boy in our school, and some of them are a head taller than I.” Comforted by many wise, loving words, Johnny went early to bed, for he had the school-house fires to build, and many other duties to attend to about the building, before it was time to open school. Every morning he was up long before the daylight of these short days of November, for as school janitor Johnny helped pay the home expenses. Thanksgiving morning he built his mother’s fire, ate the breakfast she had prepared for him the previous evening, and was then on the street before any of his school-mates had opened their eyes, for holidays for the rest of the boys meant harder work for Johnny in cleaning the large building. ‘‘ Mother says I’ll be a stronger man for hardship as a boy,” he thought to himself, as his teeth chattered with the cold. ‘I do believe I'll freeze some of these mornings, and then I’ll be solid, if not strong,” and he laughed merrily at his odd fancy as he ran along over the frozen pavement swinging his arms like windmills. ‘Tf a fellow only had a warm overcoat! but this scarf is afine one! it is almost as good as a shaw], and moth- er says a warm heart is better than a warm coat.” Running, jumping, whistling, he ran along, exhila- rated by the cold, and his busy brain filled with happy thoughts. He envied none of the boys this morning, and would not have changed places with one of them. “Whew!” he said, aloud, stopping suddenly, “if there isn’t a runaway team! I wonder if I could stop it!’ and was instantly out in the road. Johnny no- ticed that the horses seemed to be going a little slower as they came nearer. Quick as a flash he thought, “‘T do believe I could jump into the back of the wagon,” and the next moment he was climbing over into the seat, where fortunately he found the lines, and gradually brought the horses into a slow trot. Back over the road Johnny drove hoping to find the owner of the runaways. It was so early he met no one, and
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