Part 23 (2/2)

A Ballad of the Corn

_By S. H. M. Byers_

Oh, the undulating prairies, And the fields of yellow corn, Like a million soldiers waiting for the fray.

Oh, the rustling of the corn leaves Like a distant fairy's horn And the notes the fairy bugles seem to play.

”We have risen from the bosom Of the beauteous mother earth, Where the farmer plowed his furrow straight and long.

There was gladness and rejoicing When the summer gave us birth, In the tumult and the dancing and the song.

”When the sumach turns to scarlet, And the vines along the lane Are garmented in autumn's golden wine-- Then the land shall smile for plenty, And the toiler for his pain, When the soldiers of our army stand in line.

”With our s.h.i.+ning blades before us, And our banners flaming far, Want and hunger shall be slain forevermore.

And the cornfield's lord of plenty In his golden-covered car Then shall stop at every happy toiler's door.”

Oh, the suns.h.i.+ne and the beauty On the fields of ripened corn, And the wigwams and the corn-rows where they stand.

In the lanes I hear the music Of the faintly blowing horn And the blessed Indian summer's on the land.

The Children's Blessing

_By Virginia Roderick_

On the slope of a hill, beneath silvery olives, a group was gathered about the young stranger. He had entered the village only that morning, seeking the companions.h.i.+p of such Nazarenes as might be there. And they had brought him out here in the open to receive his message. But though he carried them greetings, and news from the distant groups of the Christ's followers, it was plain that he had not been sent to them on a mission.

They waited until he should be ready to explain his quest.

”You did not see Him, then?”

Into the young man's eyes there came a great, yearning sadness. ”No,”

he answered. ”But you,” he asked eagerly, ”did none of you see Him?”

They shook their heads, all of them.

”We were too far away,” one murmured.

”But I had for spiritual father one who had seen Him,” the traveler offered, his face lighting. ”You know how He blessed a company of little children? How He put His hands upon them?” He paused and they nodded silently. ”My teacher was one of those children,” he said, his dark eyes aglow with reverent pride.

A quick glance flashed about the group; but no one spoke and the traveler went on, the radiance of his face blotted out again in sadness. ”It is because he is gone that I am a wanderer now. I was always with him, and we went about together, preaching the Kingdom. It was all so clear to my teacher because he had seen Him. He told me of His wonderful look.”

They fell silent, brooding and thoughtful.

Then one asked: ”What was it like--the blessing He gave your teacher?

Did he gain goods and store?”

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