BV 4315 .K55 1911 
 
 Kerr, Hugh Thomson, 1871- 
 
 1950. 
 Children's story-sermons 
 
7>^ 
 
children's Story-Sermons 
 
WORKS BY 
 
 HUGH T. KERR, D.D. 
 
 Children! s Mission ary - Story- 
 Sernions. 12 mo, cloth, net i.oo 
 
 Told in simple, yet engrossing fash- 
 ion, the story of missionary heroism be- 
 comes in his capable hands a realm of 
 veritable romance in which deeds of 
 knightly valor are done in the name of 
 the great king. 
 
 Children's Story-Sermons. 
 i2mo, cloth . . . net i.oo 
 
 " The story sermons are so attract- 
 ive, so simple, so full of action, and in- 
 terest and incident, that they are not 
 only good to read aloud, but the child 
 will be glad to read them again and 
 again by himself." 
 
 — Sunday School Times. 
 
/ 
 
 Children's 
 Story-Sermons 
 
 By , 
 HUGH T. KERR 
 
 Pastor of The Fullerton Avenue Preshperian 
 Churchy Chicago 
 
 New York Chicago Toronto 
 
 Fleming H. Revell Company 
 London and Edinburgh 
 
Copyright, 191 1, by 
 FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 
 
 New York: 158 Fifth Avenue 
 Chicago: 125 North Wabash Ave. 
 Toronto: 25 Richmond Street, W. 
 London: 21 Paternoster Square 
 Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street 
 
To 
 
 My two Chums 
 ANNA and THOMSON 
 
Foreword 
 
 The Story-Sermons contained in this book 
 have all been told from the pulpit of the Ful- 
 lerton Avenue Presbyterian Church, Chicago, 
 to the children who unfailingly attend the 
 Sunday morning service. They are pub- 
 lished at the earnest request and urgent 
 solicitation of the children and the children's 
 friends. 
 
 The greatest work in the world is the in- 
 terpretation of God to the soul of the child. 
 The new emphasis which child culture is re- 
 ceiving calls for increasing effort on the part 
 of the pastor, to care for the children of his 
 church. The Sunday-school is insufficient. 
 The atmosphere of the church service is es- 
 sential for the true religious development of 
 the child. The pastor, the teacher, and the 
 parent must be workers together with God. 
 
 If any apology were needed for the publi- 
 cation of another volume of children's story- 
 sermons, it can be found in the now familiar 
 words of Dr. Stanley Hall, *' Of all the things 
 that a teacher should know how to do, the 
 most important, without any exception, is to 
 know how to tell a story." 
 7 
 
8 Foreword 
 
 All that the present collection of Story- 
 Sermons claims to do is to bear testimony to 
 the fruitfulness of a method that has been 
 tested and tried. Little that is original will 
 be found here, but much that is familiar will 
 be met with, and there is some satisfaction 
 in knowing that while many dry-as-dust and 
 discursive sermons have been forgotten, many 
 of these innocent looking sermons have been 
 remembered and have borne fruit that is 
 worth while. After all, the Story-Sermon is 
 the Master's method, for " the kingdom of 
 heaven is like unto " 
 
 I wish to express my indebtedness to my 
 friend Prof. Thomas C. Blaisdell, Ph. D., of 
 the Michigan Agricultural College for his 
 many helpful suggestions. 
 
 H. T. K. 
 
 Chicago, III, 
 
Contents 
 
 ,„*.-^he Story of Eager-Heart (A Christmas Story) 
 
 . '3 
 
 A Boy Who was a Hero .... 
 
 i8 
 
 X5od Wants Our Best 
 A Boy Who was a Minister 
 
 
 
 21 
 
 
 
 24 
 
 '>r A Man Who Forgot His Own Name 
 
 
 
 • 27 
 
 ^.^-What Bradley Owed 
 
 
 
 • 30 
 
 Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep 
 
 
 
 . 32 
 
 >r The Boy Who Made Soap 
 
 
 
 • 35 
 
 Michael Angelo and the Child . 
 
 
 
 . 38 
 
 A Lion Story-Sermon 
 
 
 
 . 40 
 
 A Little Boy's Hard Questions . 
 
 
 
 . 42 
 
 ^ Mendelssohn and the Organ 
 
 
 
 • 45 
 
 " ril Take What Father Takes '* 
 
 
 
 • 47 
 
 A Great Christian Soldier . 
 /^ h Story of a Powder Mine 
 
 
 
 . 50 
 
 
 
 . 52 
 
 Not Ashamed of His Mother . 
 ■ " God and Me " . 
 
 
 
 . 54 
 
 
 
 . 56 
 
 A Little Girl's Prayer 
 
 
 
 . 58 
 
 A Story About Prayer 
 
 
 
 . 60 
 
 Hector and His Little Boy 
 
 
 
 . 62 
 
 A Missionary Story . 
 
 
 
 . 64 
 
 A Boy Who was a Bridge 
 
 
 
 . 66 
 
 The Copper That Became Gold 
 
 
 
 68 
 
 The Scholar's Prayer 
 
 
 
 70 
 
 Tongues and Ears .... 
 
 
 . 
 
 72 
 
 "^A Lion and a Little Dog . 
 
 9 
 
 
 
 • 74 
 
lO 
 
 Contents 
 
 Beware of the Camel's Nose 
 
 
 
 
 11 
 
 A Little Lost Lamb . 
 
 
 
 
 80 
 
 A Rich Lady's Dream 
 
 
 
 
 83 
 
 The Story of a Bad Boy . 
 
 
 
 
 85 
 
 The Hidden Ring . 
 
 
 
 
 89 
 
 A Little Lost Bird . 
 
 
 
 
 91 
 
 ^he Tree on the Chimney Top 
 '' A Child Who was a King 
 
 
 
 
 94 
 
 
 
 
 96 
 
 Writing With Ink . 
 
 
 
 
 98 
 
 A Boy Hero . . . . 
 
 
 
 
 100 
 
 Little Shadi's Prayer 
 
 
 
 
 102 
 
 The Three Golden Apples 
 
 
 
 
 104. 
 
 The Broken Vase . 
 
 
 
 
 106 
 
 ^Who Is the Prettiest Girl ? 
 *''^^^^><rhe Son of a Soldier 
 The Prince of Wales 
 
 
 
 
 108 
 
 
 
 
 no 
 
 
 
 
 112 
 
 Little Faithful . 
 
 
 
 
 114 
 
 Fifty-Seven Pennies . 
 
 
 
 
 116 
 
 A Little Prison Flower 
 
 
 
 
 . 118 
 
 ^The President and His Mother 
 
 
 
 
 . 121 
 
 The Story of a Bell 
 
 
 
 
 . 123 
 
 A Palace of Beautiful Deeds 
 
 
 
 
 . 126 
 
 " I Gave Gold for Iron " . 
 
 
 
 
 . 129 
 
 A Blacksmith's Boy . 
 
 
 
 
 • 132 
 
 Keeping the Sabbath 
 
 
 
 
 . 134 
 
 She Saw the King . 
 
 
 
 
 . 136 
 
 What Is Love ? . . 
 
 
 
 
 . 139 
 
 Only One Door 
 
 
 
 
 . 141 
 
 God's Love for Us . 
 
 
 
 
 . 144 
 
 Good Money, But No Good 
 
 
 
 
 . 146 
 
 The Little Missionary 
 
 
 
 
 . 149 
 
 The Little Peacemaker 
 
 
 
 
 . 152 
 
Contents 
 
 U 
 
 Bobbie Higgins 
 
 The Picture that Is to Be . 
 
 The Prince and His Garden 
 
 A Wise Little Girl . 
 ^^wecter Than Honey- 
 Boys Who are Brave 
 
 A Little Boy and an Old Lady- 
 Only a Boy . 
 ^ Worth Twelve Hundred Dollars 
 
 The King's Horses . 
 ' ^Thomas Edison and Theodore 
 '^The Wonder Ball (A Christmas 
 
 Garibaldi and the Lost Lamb 
 ^^An Easter Story 
 
 The Children of a King . 
 
 Dr. Barnardo . 
 
 Follow the Leader . 
 
 Teeter-Totter . 
 
 The Dark Tunnel . 
 
 The Three Johns 
 
 Sewing Without Thread . 
 
 The Boy Who Promised . 
 
 The Boy Scout 
 
 The Sunday Engine 
 
 Story) 
 
 '54 
 157 
 160 
 163 
 165 
 168 
 
 171 
 
 173 
 176 
 
 179 
 182 
 184 
 186 
 189 
 igi 
 194 
 
 '97 
 200 
 203 
 207 
 210 
 212 
 215 
 
 2l8 
 
Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 The Story of Eager-Heart 
 
 (^ Christmas Story) 
 
 Away back in the olden days before they 
 had cheap shows and theatres with their 
 bright Ughts and doubtful pictures, where for a 
 penny or two an hour's ofttimes questionable 
 entertainment may be had, the plain people 
 who loved to see shows and act plays and at 
 the same time arrange for entertainments 
 that would help boys and girls and men and 
 women to be better than they were, used to 
 makeup what they called miracle plays and 
 mystery plays. The difference between a 
 miracle play and a mystery play was this, 
 that a miracle play always had to do with 
 some saint whom the people liked to re- 
 member, while the mystery play was always 
 about the Lord Jesus Himself. One of the 
 greatest of the mystery plays is what is called 
 the Passion Play, pictures of which doubdess 
 you have all seen. 
 
 One of these mystery plays was about 
 13 
 
14 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 Eager-Heart, and it is about Eager-Heart 
 that I want to tell you. Don't you think 
 that is a pretty name ? Do you think it was 
 the name of a man or a woman, or a boy or 
 a girl, or a horse or a dog or — well, what ? 
 Shall I tell you ? Eager-Heart was the name 
 of a beautiful woman. She had a litde home 
 far away in Germany. Just a little cottage 
 home in a little village, but a sweet and 
 happy home nevertheless. Well, it happened 
 that the people of that village all expected 
 the Great King to pass through their town 
 on a certain night and every one was on the 
 lookout for Him. When the wonderful night 
 came Eager-Heart had her little home ready 
 as if expecting the King for her guest. The 
 lamp was lighted and the food was ready, 
 and the bed was all prepared with beautiful, 
 white, clean linen. While she was waiting 
 some one came to the door and her heart beat 
 fast, for she thought that perhaps the King had 
 arrived and that He had come to her humble 
 home. She opened the door quickly, but was 
 so disappointed, for there at the door stood a 
 poor, tired, cold woodman with his wife and 
 his litde shivering boy. They asked to be 
 taken in and kept over the night. But 
 Eager-Heart said, " Oh, not to-night, not to- 
 night. I am expecdng a friend, a dear friend, 
 
The Story of Eager-Heart 15 
 
 to-night ; come to-morrow night and next 
 night, and next night too, but not to-night." 
 Then the woodman, with a look of disap- 
 pointment, said, ** That is what they all say. 
 No one will let us stay to-night. Every one 
 is expecting a guest to-night, and there is no 
 place for us." Eager-Heart was about to 
 turn away, when she saw the face of the little 
 child lifted to hers. It was the most beautiful 
 face she had ever seen, and the next moment 
 the three weary travellers were in her quiet, 
 warm home and the little child was lying in 
 the bed that had been made for tne King. 
 Then Eager-Heart, having made them 
 comfortable, went out into the streets. She 
 was so disappointed. She had had a dream 
 that the King might perhaps be her guest 
 that night, and now it could never, never be. 
 But if she could not have the King in her 
 own home she would go out to meet Him, 
 and so, with her lamp in her hand, she went 
 out into the streets and there she met the 
 shepherds and the wise men searching for the 
 King, and the Christmas star was leading 
 them through the streets and a crowd of 
 people were anxiously following. So Eager- 
 Heart followed with the gathering crowd, and 
 the star led them from street to street and 
 from house to house until at last it led them 
 
l6 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 back to the door of Eager-Heart's own home. 
 " Not here, not here," said Eager-Heart ; " it 
 cannot be here ; this is my own little humble 
 home." But the wise men and the shep- 
 herds said that it must be that the King was 
 in that home for the star stood low above 
 the cottage, and so Eager-Heart opened 
 the door and what a sight that was which 
 she saw ! The little home was all ablaze 
 with light, for there in her own home was the 
 Holy Family and on the snow-white bed was 
 the infant King. She fell at His feet and wor- 
 shipped and wondered. How surprised she 
 was, and how glad she was, that she had 
 opened her home to the poor, tired, weary 
 travellers. I feel quite sure that you all un- 
 derstand the story and know what it means. 
 I am half afraid to try to tell you what it 
 means. But I will say this : Jesus often 
 comes to us without telling us who He is. 
 He wants to know if we are kind and sweet 
 and loving to others, to the poor and to the 
 old and to little children, and He tells us that 
 when we are kind to others it is just the 
 same as if we were kind to Him. Some- 
 times, too, when we have beautiful thoughts 
 and see beautiful sights and hear beautiful 
 things so that they make us wish to be 
 beautiful in our own lives, I think it is Jesus 
 
The Story of Eager-Heart 17 
 
 who has come into our hearts. What a mis- 
 take it would be for us not to know Him and 
 not let Him in. Let us all be Hke Eager- 
 Heart and let Him in. 
 
 The foxes found rest 
 
 And the birds their nest, 
 In the shade of the forest tree 
 
 But Thy couch was the sod, 
 
 O Thou Son of God, 
 
 In the deserts of Galilee ; 
 O come to my heart, Lord Jesus, 
 There is room in my heart for Thee, 
 
II 
 
 A Boy Who Was a Hero 
 
 Not all the heroes are in story-books. 
 No, indeed. Some of them are living quite 
 close to us, but we would hardly guess that 
 they are heroes, because a real hero never 
 tells about the splendid things he does. A 
 real hero, you know, always keeps his hero- 
 ism to himself. You can always be sure 
 when a boy tells you about the great brave 
 things he has done that he is a bully and 
 not a hero. A hero never talks about him- 
 self. 
 
 Here is a real hero story. It is about a 
 boy who ran an elevator in an old shaky, 
 shackly ofBce building, in Philadelphia. The 
 people who knew him called him Billy. He 
 was a lean, freckle-faced boy, with red hair, 
 and nobody guessed that Billy was a hero. 
 But he was, as this story will show. One 
 day the old building began to tremble and 
 shake, and then one of the walls fell out and 
 the crowd gathered in the street and looked 
 up at the windows of the building where the 
 i8 
 
A Boy Who Was a Hero 19 
 
 men and women and litde children were, and 
 wondered what would become of them. But 
 Billy never waited to wonder, but ran his old 
 elevator up to the topmost story and came 
 back with it crowded with frightened women 
 and little children. He did that a second 
 time, and a third, and a fourth, and a fifth, 
 and a sixth. Up and down he went for nine 
 times until only one side of the building was 
 standing and the shaft of the elevator was 
 bare and was swaying to and fro like a tree 
 in the wind. The policemen tried to drag 
 the boy away from his post, and the great 
 crowd cried for him to stop, but he pulled 
 the chain and began to rise again to the 
 upper floor. *' There's two men up there 
 yet," said Billy, and away he went to the top, 
 facing death every minute, but never waiting 
 to guess what the end might be. Then 
 through the cloud of dust the old elevator 
 was seen coming down and in it there were 
 three people. As it touched the ground, the 
 other wall fell out, but the two men and Billy 
 came out into the street unhurt. You should 
 have heard the people cheer 1 They knew 
 then that Billy, with his red hair and his 
 freckled face, was a hero, and they wanted 
 to catch him and carry him on their shoulders 
 and make him say a speech and take up a 
 
20 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 collection for him, but Billy could not be 
 found anywhere. He had slipped off un- 
 noticed through the crowd, for it was supper 
 time, and he had gone home to his mother. 
 
 This story does not need any sermon. If 
 it did, all that the sermon could say would 
 be : " Do things, don't talk about them. Do 
 brave, kind, heroic, beautiful things, not be- 
 cause people see you, but because you are a 
 hero at heart and because there are brave, 
 kind, heroic, beautiful things to be done, and 
 because God sees you.'* 
 
Ill V/^ *^ 
 
 God Wants Our Best 
 
 What would you think of a boy who kept 
 an apple until it was rotten before he tried to 
 eat it ? What would you think of a girl who 
 kept a rose until it wilted and faded before 
 she tried to wear it ? What would you think 
 of a man who bought an automobile and 
 never used it until it rusted ? What would 
 you think of boys and girls who waited until 
 they were men and women before giving 
 their hearts to the Lord Jesus? This is a 
 story of a girl who did just that very thing. 
 She thought she was not old enough, and 
 she wished to have what she called a good 
 time before she became a Christian. That 
 was very foolish, as I will try to show you. 
 
 The girl's name was Margaret, and she 
 lived in the great city of St. Louis, where 
 she had many friends and many places to go. 
 One day her mother, whom she loved dearly, 
 became ill, — very ill — and they had to call a 
 nurse. The nurse was a very beautiful 
 young lady and a lovely Christian, and she 
 
 21 
 
22 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 soon became much interested in Miss Mar- 
 garet and her winning ways, and wondered 
 why she had never given herself to the Lord 
 Jesus. So she made up her mind that some 
 day before she left she would talk to her 
 about it. After her mother was much better, 
 a friend sent in a bouquet of beautiful white 
 carnations, and the nurse, who had been 
 waiting for the best chance to speak to her 
 little friend, said to her : " I think we will not 
 take these flowers to your mother just now. 
 They are so fresh and sweet and beautiful. 
 Let us keep them here for a few days, and 
 then we can take them to her room." Mar- 
 garet's eyes opened wide and she looked at 
 the nurse to see what she really meant. 
 
 The nurse was getting the vase and the 
 water for the flowers, and Margaret became 
 very angry and indignant and told the nurse 
 that she should do no such thing, but should 
 take the beautiful flowers to her darling 
 mother immediately. Without saying any 
 more about the flowers and with the sweetest 
 of smiles, the nurse put her arm around 
 Margaret and said : *' Yes, I think too that 
 mother ought to have the flowers when they 
 are sweetest and freshest, and we will take 
 them to her soon ; but don't you think also 
 that God ought to have your life when it is 
 
God Wants Our Best 23 
 
 at its best ? And yet you are keeping your 
 beautiful young life from Him and waiting 
 until you are older, and then you think you 
 will be willing to give Him some of the days 
 that are not your very best." 
 
 Do you think that was a good sermon ? 
 I know it was, but it didn't sound one little 
 bit like a sermon, and I am not surprised in 
 the least that Margaret immediately saw 
 what the nurse meant and that very day 
 gave iier heart to Jesus. We are never too 
 young to love Him, and boys and girls 
 should learn to love Jesus just as sweetly and 
 just as surely and just as early as they learn 
 to love their own fathers and mothers in 
 their own homes. 
 
IV 
 
 A Boy Who Was a Minister 
 
 This is a missionary story. I have often 
 read it, and I know it is true. It happened 
 in a little village, in an out-of-the-way corner 
 of India, where a missionary had gone to 
 baptize sixty or seventy men and women and 
 to form them into a Christian church. 
 
 When the service began the missionary 
 noticed a boy about twelve years of age, sit- 
 ting away back in the corner of the building, 
 looking very much interested and listening 
 with all his might. After he had baptized 
 and received into the church all the grown- 
 up men and women who had professed their 
 faith in the Lord Jesus as their Saviour, he 
 was surprised to see this boy come forward 
 and stand in front of the pulpit. The mis- 
 sionary said to him, ** What, my lad, do you 
 want to unite with the church and sit down to 
 the Lord's Supper?" The boy said, ''Yes, 
 sir." The missionary looked at him lov- 
 ingly, and said, " But you are very young, 
 and I know nothing about you, and no one 
 24 
 
A Boy Who Was a Minister 25 
 
 has taught you about the Christian faith, and 
 after a while you may grow careless and 
 indifferent. Perhaps it will be better for you 
 to wait. I will be here again in less than a 
 year, and if during that time you will study 
 hard and prepare yourself, then, if you wish 
 to unite with the church, I will receive you 
 gladly." The boy said nothing, but turned 
 away to his seat with a very sad heart, 
 and the missionary saw that he was very, 
 very much disappointed. Before the little 
 fellow reached his seat, the missionary saw 
 all the people standing up and they all 
 began to talk at once^ After a litde they 
 allowed one man to speak for the rest, and 
 he said : ** Why, sir, this boy has taught us 
 all we know about Jesus." And what he 
 said proved to be the truth. That boy had 
 learned the story of the Gospel at a mission 
 school in a distant village, and had returned 
 to his heathen home to tell the story of Jesus 
 to his own people and to his friends. He 
 read to them out of the New Testament un- 
 til they too gave their hearts to God and 
 were led to Jesus. So you see this little lad 
 was really the minister of the village. 
 
 Of course, I do not think that boys should 
 preach like grown-up men, but I am sure if 
 they love Jesus and live as He would like to 
 
26 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 have them live, kind and obedient and true, 
 that they will be able to do more for Him 
 than they could do, even if they were able to 
 preach great, long, eloquent sermons. You 
 know the Bible says, ** A little child shall lead 
 them." I want you to remember this verse 
 for the text. I have known fathers and 
 mothers with whom ministers and Sunday- 
 school teachers and elders and deacons 
 seemed to have no influence, who were led 
 to Jesus by their own little boy or girl. We 
 sing sometimes, " Jesus wants me for a sun- 
 beam," and I think a sunbeam is the most 
 beautiful and most useful thing in all the 
 world. 
 
V 
 
 A Man Who Forgot His Own Name '^ 
 
 The other day the newspapers were full of 
 the strangest story I think I ever heard. It 
 was the story of a man who forgot his own 
 name, and forgot his friends and his home 
 and his loved ones and wandered away 
 farther and farther, day after day, and didn't 
 know that he was lost and didn't know where 
 he was going. He was not a poor, good-for- 
 nothing man either, but was a man whom 
 everybody in the city knew — a lawyer and a 
 judge. He wandered far away into the 
 country, living on little or nothing, begging 
 for work, refusing to sit at the table with 
 other people, and satisfied to eat just like a 
 common, ordinary tramp. At last he found 
 work, very humble work, and was satisfied. 
 
 All this time his wife and friends were 
 worrying about him and thought he must be 
 dead. But he had one friend who refused to 
 think he was dead, and who searched for him 
 day and night. At last he discovered traces 
 of him, and one morning visited the factory 
 27 
 
28 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 where the lost man was sitting at a table 
 making pearl buttons out of clam shells. 
 Without waiting a moment, he went up to 
 him and called him by his right name, and 
 immediately the lost man recognized his 
 friend, and knew where he was and remem- 
 bered about his home. You can imagine how 
 strange he felt, and how quickly he went 
 with his friend, and how glad he was to get 
 back to his own home and to his dear family. 
 Somewhere in the Bible I have read a story 
 something like this newspaper story. It is 
 about a young man who left home one day, 
 and never said where he was going, or what 
 he was going to do, or when he would come 
 back. He was rich and had beautiful clothes 
 and many friends, but his money was soon 
 spent and his good clothes soon became 
 ragged, and the only work he could find was 
 with a stranger who sent him out into the 
 fields to feed the pigs. One day when he 
 was in the field all alone, hungry and thirsty, 
 he thought he heard some one call his name. 
 He looked up and down and behind him and 
 all around, but could see no one. He was 
 sure he heard some one call his name, and 
 the story says, *' He came to himself," just 
 like the man who was making the pearl 
 buttons. Then he knew where he was, and 
 
A Man Who Forgot His Own Name 29 
 
 without waiting to say good-bye he hur- 
 ried home, and sure enough, his father was 
 standing at the gate waiting and watching 
 for him. 
 
 You remember it was Jesus who told that 
 story, and He told it to us so that we would 
 understand that when we forget God and run 
 away from Him we forget our own true 
 name and run away from our best Friend. 
 
What Bradley O^Jv^ed 
 
 His name was Bradley. They called him 
 Tiddley, because when he was young he was 
 so little and tiny. He was only about eight 
 years old, with light hair and blue eyes and 
 a sunny smile, but he had gotten into a bad 
 habit of counting everything as worth so 
 much money. Now, that is the worst possi- 
 ble thing for a little boy, for there are lots 
 of things that money cannot buy. Money 
 can't buy the very best things, as this story 
 will show you. 
 
 One morning when Bradley came down to 
 breakfast, he put on his mother's plate a 
 little piece of paper neatly folded. His 
 mother opened it, and what do you think 
 was on it ? She could hardly believe it, but 
 this is what Bradley had written there : 
 
 Mother owes Bradley : 
 
 For running errands . . 25 cents 
 
 For being good .... 10 " 
 
 For taking music lessons . 15 " 
 
 Extras 5 *< 
 
 Total .... 55 ** 
 30 
 
What Bradley Owed 31 
 
 His mother smiled, but did not say any- 
 thing and when lunch time came she placed 
 the bill on Bradley's plate with fifty-five cents. 
 Bradley's eyes fairly danced when he saw the 
 money and thought his business abiUty had 
 been quickly rewarded, but with the money 
 there was another little bill, which read like this : 
 
 Bradley owes mother : 
 
 For being good to him . Nothing 
 For nursing him through 
 
 his long illness with 
 
 scarlet fever .... Nothing 
 For clothes and shoes and 
 
 gloves and playthings . Nothing 
 For all his meals and his 
 
 beautiful room . . . Nothing 
 
 Total that Bradley 
 
 owes mother . . Nothing 
 
 Now, what do you think that boy did after 
 he read those words ? Do you think he put 
 the fifty-five cents in his pocket and went off 
 whistling ? I am sure you know better than 
 that. The tears came into Bradley's eyes, 
 and he put his arms around his dear mother's 
 neck and put his little hand with the fifty-five 
 cents in hers, and said, ** Take the money all 
 back, mamma, and let me love you and do 
 things for nothing." Now this is a story and 
 it has no text and there is no sermon, but I 
 think you know what it means. 
 
VII I 
 
 Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep 
 
 I READ a Story the other day in the news- 
 papers about a little boy and his father, and 
 I want to tell it to you. I think it is a very 
 interesting story and perhaps some of the 
 fathers of some of the children might also 
 like to hear it. This boy lived down in 
 Ohio, near Columbus. He was about eight 
 years old. His name was Edward, and he 
 was a great chum of his father. His father 
 was a travelling man and went into the city 
 very often. He promised his little chum 
 that some day he would take him along. 
 
 So one day they started off together, the 
 father carrying his big heavy grip, and the 
 boy carrying a little toy grip just to make 
 believe that he too was travelling with his 
 father in the business. They went to the big 
 city, and when the hour came for the boy to 
 go to bed his father took him up to the room 
 and tucked him in. He answered all the 
 boy's questions about the room and the pic- 
 tures, and the lights and the bed and the 
 bell — especially about the bell. Then his 
 32 
 
Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep 33 
 
 father kissed him good-night and went 
 down-stairs to finish the business that he 
 had to do. He had scarcely reached the 
 main hall when he heard the office boys run- 
 ning hither and thither and the bells ring- 
 ing as if every person in the hotel had gone 
 mad. Of course the father knew it was his 
 boy that was ringing and started for the 
 room, but before he got there one of the bell- 
 boys had reached the door and there was the 
 little chap standing on the floor in his night* 
 dress. His father heard him saying to the 
 bell-boy, " Man, send some one to me, to 
 whom I can say my prayers, and be quick 
 about it, for I want to go to sleep." You 
 see the father had not been used to putting 
 the litde lad to bed. His mother would not 
 have forgotten, I am quite sure of that, and 
 the boy didn't forget. It didn't matter to 
 him that he was in a great hotel and in a 
 great strange city. He had been taught to 
 say his prayers, and you don't wonder that 
 when the story was printed in all the papers 
 the people liked to read it and the boy's 
 father was not a bit ashamed of his little 
 chum's courage. 
 
 Boys who pray with their fathers always 
 make good boys. If your father is your 
 chum (and I hope he is), and you tell him 
 
34 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 all your secrets, as I hope you do, I know 
 that he and you must often pray together. 
 The boy and the father who do not pray to- 
 gether will soon cease to be chums. I think 
 the very first time I saw my father's face — at 
 least, the first time I can remember seeing it 
 — was one day when I was just a little lad 
 three or four years old when he prayed with 
 me because I had done something wrong. 
 Here is a little prayer for you : we will call it 
 
 The Lord's Prayer 
 
 Our Father which art in heaven ; 
 
 Hallowed be Thy name, 
 
 Thy kingdom come, 
 
 Thy will be done, 
 In earth as it is in heaven. 
 
 Give us this day our daily bread : 
 
 And forgive us our debts. 
 
 As we forgive our debtors. 
 
 And lead us not into temptation, 
 But deliver us from evil : 
 
 For thine is the kingdom, 
 And the power, 
 And the glory, 
 
 For ever. 
 \ Amen. 
 
The Boy Who Made Soap 
 
 Samuel was his name. Before I get through 
 I'll tell you his other name, and when I tell it 
 to you I think you will know it, for every one 
 in the east and west and the north and the 
 south I feel sure knows it. 
 
 At the time my story begins, he was six- 
 teen years old. He was leaving home to 
 find work. In his hand he carried a bundle 
 which contained everything that he owned. 
 He had not gone far until he met an old 
 friend, who, when he found out where the 
 boy was going, said: *'Be sure you start 
 right, lad, and you will get along fine.*' 
 Samuel told him that the only thing he 
 could do was to make soap and to 
 make candles. He had learned that at 
 home. "Well," said the old canal boat 
 captain, "let me pray with you before 
 you go, and then I'll give you a little ad- 
 vice." And so they knelt down there in the 
 open air, and the old man prayed for the boy 
 and asked God to take good care of him and 
 guide him in the great city. When they sat 
 35 
 
36 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 down together again, the old man said to the 
 boy : ** Some one will soon be the leading 
 soap maker in New York. It can be you as 
 well as any one. I hope it may. Be a good 
 boy, give your heart to Christ, give the Lord 
 all that belongs to Him of every dollar you 
 earn, make an honest soap, give a full pound, 
 and Fm certain that you will be a rich man." 
 He left the man and went to the great 
 city, where he found it hard to get work. 
 Remembering the words of his friend, he 
 united with the church and the first dollar he 
 earned he gave ten cents of it to the Lord. 
 After a while he secured regular work, and in 
 time became a partner and then the owner 
 of the business. He still followed the old 
 captain's advice, and while his business grew 
 and he prospered, he gave a tenth of all his 
 income to the Lord. Then he gave two- 
 tenths, and still he prospered more than be- 
 fore. Then three-tenths, then four-tenths, 
 then five-tenths, and after he had educated 
 his family and settled his life's plans, he gave 
 all his income away. His business grew, 
 and I suppose is still growing in the hands 
 of others, but before he died he had given 
 millions of dollars to the Lord. His name 
 was Colgate — Samuel Colgate — and when- 
 ever you read that name on soaps and per- 
 
The Boy Who Made Soap 37 
 
 fumes and toilet articles, you will perhaps re- 
 member this story about the boy who gave 
 his heart to Jesus, and who tried to live as 
 God wanted him to live. 
 
 Now here is the sermon : 
 
 First, give yourself to God. 
 
 Second, give God all that belongs to Him. 
 
 Third, give other people all that belongs 
 to them. 
 
 Fourth, make all the money you can, save 
 all you can, and give away all you can. 
 
IX 
 
 Michael Angelo and the Child 
 
 A LONG while ago in that beautiful city of 
 flowers which we call Florence, there lived 
 a great artist whose name was Michael 
 Angelo. He was known all over the world 
 because of his wonderful skill in drawing and 
 painting and carving. It was he who drew 
 the plans for St. Peter's in Rome, the greatest 
 church in the world. He was a painter and 
 a sculptor, and an architect and a poet, and 
 a great, good man. 
 
 The Pope had pleaded with him to do 
 some work for him, and kings and emperors 
 had offered him great sums of money for a 
 single work of art. One day a litde child 
 waited in one of the streets of Florence to 
 meet Michael Angelo, who went that way 
 from his home to his study. The little child 
 had in his hands a large sheet of white paper, 
 for he expected to ask the artist to draw him 
 a picture. His playmates laughed at him, 
 and thought he was foolish to ask such a 
 great man to do such a little thing, but he 
 would not be turned from his purpose and 
 
 38 
 
Michael Angelo and the Child 39 
 
 when the artist came up he offered him his 
 sheet of paper and asked him to draw some- 
 thing on it. The great man, who had done 
 so many wonderful things, was pleased with 
 the litde child's request and sitting down in 
 the street beside him, he drew on the paper 
 a picture that dehghted the boy's heart. 
 That was what the little lad wanted, and he 
 went home happy. 
 
 The story doesn't tell whether or not he 
 thanked the artist for his work, but I 
 shouldn't wonder if he was so happy in 
 his heart that he forgot all about it. But, 
 after all, that is the best way of saying 
 "Thank you," and the man who drew the 
 picture surely understood. Jesus told us 
 that if we asked anything. He would give 
 it to us ; that is, if we asked things that were 
 right and that He would want us to have. 
 Let us not be afraid to ask Jesus for the 
 things which we need. He is very great, 
 and perhaps we are very small, but He is 
 always pleased to have little children ask 
 Him for the things their hearts desire. He is 
 more willing to give than we are to ask. 
 
A Lion Story-Sermon 
 
 Do you know that in the city of London 
 there is a lion sermon preached every year ? 
 Isn't that a strange thing ? Lots of sermons 
 are lion sermons to little children — they are 
 so long and so loud. I knew a litde girl who 
 said that the minister preached so long that 
 she couldn't keep awake and he preached so 
 loud that she couldn't go to sleep — but this 
 is a real lion sermon. It is preached in one 
 church, and is always preached on the same 
 day, the sixteenth day of October. It has been 
 preached in that same church, St. Catherine 
 Cree, every year for two hundred and fifty 
 years. A sum of money was set aside at that 
 time so that gifts could be given to the poor 
 people every year on the sixteenth day of 
 October, and that a sermon should be 
 preached which would tell the story of God's 
 great care and of the power of prayer. This 
 is the story : 
 
 Sir John Gayer was at one time Lord 
 Mayor of London. He was a great traveller, 
 and while in Asia, going through a desert 
 40 
 
A Lion Story-Sermon 4I 
 
 place, he found himself face to face with a 
 great, strong, fierce-looking lion. He was 
 all alone, for the rest of his company had 
 gone on ahead. He was a good man and a 
 Christian, and knew that if he was to be 
 saved God alone could help him. He 
 thought about Daniel, and how God had 
 kept him safe in the lion's den, and so right 
 there in the middle of the path he fell down 
 upon his knees and asked God to take care 
 of him and save him from the dreadful lion. 
 When he had finished his prayer and opened 
 his eyes, he was all alone. The lion was 
 gone. He never saw it again, and rising 
 from his knees he went forward and joined 
 the company from which he had been 
 separated. I suppose the lion was so fright- 
 ened when he saw this man on his knees that 
 he just scampered off. 
 
 You know there is a hymn that says that 
 Satan flees when he sees the weakest saint 
 upon his knees. If God could take care of 
 Daniel, He could also take care of the Lord 
 Mayor out in the desert in Asia, and He did. 
 God took care of the great missionary, 
 Livingstone, after the savage lion had broken 
 his arm in its cruel jaws. Let us not be 
 afraid to pray anywhere and everywhere. 
 
XI V^^ 
 
 A Little Boy's Hard Questions 
 
 Once upon a time — I think that's the way 
 to begin this story — a little boy whose name 
 was William asked his mother some very 
 hard and troublesome questions. Of course, 
 that is nothing to wonder at, for every litde 
 boy and girl can ask hard questions that no- 
 body can answer, and this little fellow was 
 no exception. His parents were not Chris- 
 tians. They didn't go to church and they 
 didn't pray, but they wanted William to go 
 to Sunday-school and taught him to say the 
 prayer that they had said when they were 
 little children : 
 
 " Now I lay me down to sleep, 
 
 I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep, 
 
 If I should die before I wake, 
 
 I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to take." 
 
 And then he would add some little words 
 of his own, just as other children do : 
 
 " God bless papa, 
 God bless mamma, 
 God bless Willie, and make him to be a good boy.** 
 
 42 
 
A Little Boy's Hard Questions 43 
 
 One night after he had said his prayer and 
 kissed his mother good-night, he looked up 
 into her face, and said : " Mamma, do you 
 pray ? " ** No, darling," she said. '* Does 
 papa pray?" "I never heard him pray," 
 said his mother. " Then why do you make 
 me pray?" he said. "So that you may be 
 a good boy." ** Don't you want to be good, 
 mamma ? " he said. *' Oh, yes, I want to be 
 good." "Don't papa want to be good?" 
 he asked. " Oh, I think so." " Then why 
 don't you and papa both pray, too?" he 
 asked. She was not quite ready to answer 
 that hard question, and the little lad went on 
 talking. " Well, mamma," said he, " I guess 
 God will hear the prayer of a little boy like 
 me, but don't you think you and papa ex- 
 pect too much of such a little fellow ? Do 
 you think that God wants me to do all the 
 praying for this whole family ? It seems to 
 me that you and papa might help me a 
 little." But he was growing sleepy, and he 
 was soon far off in the land of nod. 
 
 He didn't think of it any more, perhaps, 
 and he never asked those hard questions 
 again. Indeed, he didn't need to ask them 
 again, for the father and mother that night 
 after he was sound asleep talked about it 
 and came and knelt by his bed and gave 
 
44 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 their hearts to God Uke little children, and 
 prayed that God would answer their little 
 boy's prayer. 
 
 So you see that hard questions sometimes 
 are good questions. God doesn't want little 
 children to be the only ones to pray. He 
 wants fathers and mothers, and brothers and 
 sisters, and grandfathers and grandmothers 
 all to pray to Him, for He is our Friend and 
 He loves to have us speak to Him. 
 
xn 
 
 Mendelssohn and the Organ 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn. How would you 
 like that for a name ? Isn't that the strang- 
 est name you ever heard ? Well, I'm going 
 to tell you a story about Felix Mendelssohn. 
 You know he was one of the great musicians 
 of the world. His beautiful music is loved 
 and played wherever people love and play 
 music. Perhaps some of the boys and girls 
 who are taking music lessons are acquainted 
 with some of the music he has written. 
 
 One day he went to visit an old cathedral 
 where there was a very wonderful organ. 
 He had often heard about the organ in the 
 old cathedral of Freiburg, and often wished 
 that he might be able to play on it. So one 
 day he travelled to the little town, and enter- 
 ing into the cathedral, found the old man 
 who took charge of everything around the 
 church. He asked permission to play for a 
 little while on the old organ, but the eld man 
 just shook his head, and said, " No, no, no, 
 that could never be," — no stranger could 
 ever be permitted to play on that wonderful 
 45 
 
46 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 instrument. Mendelssohn talked so long 
 and so lovingly about the organ and begged 
 so hard to be allowed to play on it just for a 
 litde while, that at last the old man gave his 
 consent and the great musician opened it up 
 and began to play. The man listened, and 
 then the great cathedral was filled with mel- 
 ody. It sang on and on and on, and never 
 in all his life had he heard the great organ 
 play such wonderful music. His eyes filled 
 with tears, and laying his hand upon the 
 stranger's shoulder, he asked his name. 
 When he heard the name " Mendelssohn," 
 the old man drew back and through the 
 tears that were still falling, he said : ♦* And I 
 refused to let you play on my organ ! " 
 
 Now, boys and girls, your life and mine is 
 just like a great musical instrument. It is 
 here in the world to make music. There 
 often comes One to us who at first seems to 
 be a stranger, who asks permission to make 
 use of our talents and our days. He is not a 
 Stranger. His name is Jesus, and if we let 
 Him, He will bring forth from our lives the 
 most beautiful music. He will turn our dis- 
 cords into peace and fill all life with harmony 
 and happiness. 
 
XIII 
 "I'll Take What Father Takes'* 
 
 One morning Harold went into town with 
 his father, and stayed in his office until it was 
 time to go to lunch. Harold had never re- 
 mained down town so long, and he was 
 very much interested in all the books and 
 papers and drawers and desks in his father's 
 great office. He and his father were chums, 
 and when lunch time came they went off to- 
 gether to eat at a near-by restaurant. The 
 waiter knew the boy's father and when he 
 received the order for lunch asked the boy 
 what he would have to drink. The waiter 
 did not ask his father, because he knew that 
 it was the father's custom to have a bottle of 
 wine each day. The boy replied as he had 
 to the other questions, *' I'll take what father 
 takes." Then his father knew that some- 
 thing must be done, that it would never do 
 for the waiter to bring a bottle of wine to the 
 boy, and so he quietly called the waiter to 
 his side and changed his order and asked for 
 a glass of milk. And so when lunch was 
 brought in, two glasses of milk were set 
 47 
 
48 Children's Story-SermonS 
 
 down on the table, one for the boy and one 
 for his father and the little lad was greatly 
 pleased that both of them should be having 
 the same lunch ; but all that afternoon after 
 the father had gone back to his ofhce the 
 words of Harold kept ringing in his ears : 
 'Til take what father takes," *4'11 take what 
 father takes," '' I'll take what father takes.'* 
 He went home in the evening, and was 
 happy for a little while in hearing Harold 
 tell his mother all about his day's fun in 
 the city and how he had the same things 
 for lunch as his father. But that night after 
 the boy had gone to bed, the father still 
 heard those same words over and over again : 
 ♦Til take what father takes," '' I'll take what 
 father takes," and he remembered his wine 
 and his cigars and all his bad habits. At 
 last he could endure it no longer and knelt 
 down and asked God to guide him, and from 
 that night on he never tasted wine again and 
 never took anything or did anything that 
 would make him ashamed if his boy were to 
 do the same. 
 
 I think that the boys and the girls who can 
 do just what their parents do and are sure that 
 they are doing what is right and true and 
 good and kind, ought to be happy boys and 
 girls. And I think that fathers and mothers 
 
'* ril Take What Father Takes " 49 
 
 who feel safe in having their children take 
 what they take and do what they do, and go 
 where they go, and speak as they speak, 
 ought to be very happy fathers and mothers. 
 A father who wishes to keep his boy a 
 chum all through life must walk very care- 
 fully and very prayerfully. 
 
XIV ^^ 
 
 A Great Christian Soldier 
 
 Not very long ago one of the great 
 soldiers of the Civil War died. He had just 
 one arm, and every one knew him and loved 
 him. They called him Gen. O. O. Howard, 
 and he was one of the best men God ever 
 made. He served in our Civil War, and 
 during General Sherman's last campaign in 
 the South he was put at the head of a special 
 division. 
 
 After the war closed, it was planned to 
 have a great parade in the city of Washing- 
 ton, and the man whose place General How- 
 ard had taken insisted on riding at the head 
 of his former command, and his friends were 
 so powerful that General Sherman did not 
 see how he could help granting his request. 
 Before the parade was arranged he sent for 
 General Howard and told him how he was 
 fixed, and asked him if he would care if the 
 other general rode at the head of the column. 
 General Howard said that it was his com- 
 mand and that he had the right to ride at its 
 head. ** Of course, that is true," said General 
 50 
 
A Great Christian Soldier 51 
 
 Sherman, " but you know, Howard, you are 
 a Christian, and you don^t care so much 
 about it and you can stand the disappoint- 
 ment." '' Oh," said General Howard, ** if 
 that's what you mean, let him ride there and 
 let him have the honour." ** Yes," said Gen- 
 eral Sherman, " let him have the honour, but 
 you will report to me at nine o'clock and ride 
 by my side at the head of the army." 
 
 So you see that by giving up what he had 
 a right to hold, he gained a greater honour. 
 Jesus tells us a great many things about 
 humility and about seeking for the first place 
 and for the highest seats. And He tells us 
 that the man who is last may be first, and 
 the man who is least may be greatest, and 
 that the man who is willing to be a servant 
 is, after all, a king. If I were to give you a 
 text for this story-sermon, perhaps it would 
 be one of the Beatitudes. You know all the 
 Beatitudes, of course, but this is the one I 
 would give you as a text for this story-sermon : 
 " Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit 
 the earth." 
 
XV 
 
 A Story of a Powder Mine 
 
 A FEW years ago there was a great war 
 going on over in Asia between Japan and 
 Russia. When I was a little boy I used 
 to think that wars belonged only to the 
 far-away past, and TU never forget how 
 surprised I was to learn that nations still carry 
 on war. Well, it was a dreadful war, and all 
 wars are dreadful, but at last it came to an 
 end and there was peace once more, and the 
 soldiers left their guns and the sailors their 
 ships and went back to their homes, glad that 
 it was all over. 
 
 Two years went by, and one night a little 
 town on the coast of the Sea of Japan was 
 awakened out of its sleep by a noise that 
 seemed to shake the earth. Trees were up- 
 rooted and houses fell in ruins, and when the 
 morning broke ten men were found dead 
 upon the shore and a hundred and fifty-six 
 wounded. It seemed as if the war had broken 
 out afresh. What was it that had happened ? 
 What did it all mean ? Where did the dread- 
 ful explosion come from ? You know when 
 5* 
 
A Story of a Powder Mine 53 
 
 there is war they put powder mines out upon 
 the sea to float so that when the big ships of 
 the enemy strike them they explode and the 
 war vessels are destroyed ; and this was one 
 of those powder mines that had been forgot- 
 ten, and it had floated and floated and floated 
 harmlessly upon the waves for nearly two 
 long years, and at last it touched the shore 
 and did its dreadful work. 
 
 Now, boys and girls, sin is just like that 
 powder mine. Some time, perhaps, away in 
 the past we did something that was wrong 
 and we forgot about it and did not ask God 
 to forgive us, and the days and the weeks 
 and the years perhaps went by and we thought 
 nothing about it, until at last it came home to 
 us again. There is a verse in the Old Testa- 
 ment that you ought always to remember. 
 It is a very short one, but it is a very true 
 one : ** Be sure your sin will find you out." 
 It may not be found out by any one else, but 
 that is not what it says — the verse says that 
 ''your sin will find you out." Sin is like 
 powder, and the best thing is to have noth- 
 ing to do with it. 
 
XVI 
 
 Not Ashamed of His Mother 
 
 This is a story that Mr. Moody was very 
 fond of telling. He told it over and over 
 again, and never seemed to grow tired of it. 
 I think any man would like it who was fond 
 of his mother. 
 
 It is the story of a poor boy whose father 
 was dead, and whose mother worked hard 
 every day in order that he might get an edu- 
 cation and go to college. When the day 
 came for him to graduate, he wrote back 
 home for his mother to come. She replied 
 that she couldn't go to see him graduate, for 
 her clothes were all old and worn and she had 
 no money to buy new ones. The boy still 
 begged her to come, and at last to please him 
 she went in the best clothes she had. The 
 graduation exercises were in a very rich and 
 fashionable church, and when the names of 
 the prize winners were read, her son received 
 the highest honours. He had taken her to 
 the church and given her one of the best seats 
 in the very centre, and then went to join the 
 class on the platform. There were tears in 
 54 
 
Not Ashamed of His Mother ^^ 
 
 her eyes when her son rose up to receive his 
 reward. The president of the college pinned 
 a medal on his coat and expressed his joy at 
 the splendid success which this poor boy from 
 the country had won in his college work. As 
 soon as he had received the medal, he quietly 
 left the platform and went directly to his 
 mother and pinned it on her old, black, faded 
 dress. There were tears in his eyes, too, as 
 he bent over and kissed her face. '' That's 
 where it belongs," he whispered, and then he 
 went back to his place. That was a beautiful 
 thing to do, and every one was pleased to see 
 a boy so honour his mother. 
 
 You know one of the commandments 
 speaks something about honouring our father 
 and our mother, and no better test of a boy's 
 real character can be found than the way in 
 which he treats his parents. One of the most 
 beautiful things that we read of in the life of 
 Jesus is that He went down to His home in 
 Nazareth and was subject unto His parents. 
 I don't wonder that when He was suffering 
 on the cross He forgot about Himself and 
 gave His mother into the care of John, His 
 favourite disciple. 
 
XVII 
 " God and Me *' 
 
 Away up in the north of Scotland there is 
 a little bridge over a mountain stream. It is 
 in a little out-of-the-way place and in the 
 summer time the stream is very small, but 
 when the heavy rains and melting snows 
 come in the spring time, it becomes a raging 
 torrent. Across that mountain stream there 
 is a stone foot-bridge, and on the keystone 
 of the arch — you know what a keystone is, 
 don't you ? It is the central stone that holds 
 the bridge together — there are carved these 
 words, " God and Me.'' Perhaps the gram- 
 mar is not very good, but the story is good 
 and I am going to tell you why those words 
 are carved there on that stone. 
 
 Many years ago before there was any 
 bridge over the stream, a little girl was try- 
 ing to cross when the water was high, and 
 she missed her footing and fell and was in 
 danger of drowning. She prayed to God to 
 help her, and promised Him that if He did 
 help her she would build a bridge over that 
 56 
 
" God and Me '* 57 
 
 dangerous place. Well, God did help her, 
 and she got safely across to the other side. 
 She was just a poor girl, but she went to 
 work after a while and before she died had 
 saved up enough money to build that stone 
 foot-bridge across the river, and there it is 
 to-day with its beautiful motto, '* God and 
 Me." 
 
 I think that is a very nice way to think 
 about our work, that we help God and God 
 helps us. We are workers together with 
 Him. 
 
XVIII 
 
 A Little Girl's Prayer 
 
 I WANT to tell you a story about a little girl. 
 She was just a little girl — not very old, only 
 about six — but she was a good little girl, 
 and one day she came to her father, — and I 
 know she thought she had the very best papa 
 in all the world. I suppose every little girl 
 thinks that and ought to think it. And she 
 said, ** Papa, I want you to say something to 
 God for me. Something I want to tell Him 
 very much. I have such a little voice that I 
 don't think He could hear it away up in 
 heaven, but you have such a great big man's 
 voice, and He will be sure to hear." Wasn't 
 it strange for her to say that ? What do you 
 think her papa said to her ? Well, he took 
 the little girl in his arms, and told her that if 
 God were surrounded by all the angels sing- 
 ing one of the grandest and sweetest songs 
 that was ever heard in heaven. He would say 
 to them, " Hush I Stop singing for a little 
 while. There's a little girl away down on the 
 earth who wants to tell Me something, and I 
 must listen to hear what she has to say." 
 58 
 
A Little Girl's Prayer 59 
 
 Isn't that a pretty story? I think the 
 sweetest words I ever hear are the words of 
 a little child's prayer, and I think, too, that 
 the very sweetest words that God hears up 
 in heaven are the words that are spoken by 
 the little children who fall asleep with His 
 name upon their lips. 
 
XIX 
 A Story About Prayer 
 
 I HOPE that each boy and girl who listens 
 to these stories knows what it is to pray. I 
 suppose you all do. Prayer is something- 
 much like electricity. You know we send 
 messages far away and the people receive 
 them just as we send them, and so too, we 
 speak to God and somehow He hears us. 
 
 I have heard a story that perhaps will help 
 you to see how prayer may do things for us 
 better than we could do them ourselves. 
 Over in Great Britain there are two big 
 cities, Edinburgh and London, and they 
 are a whole night's ride apart. There is an 
 office of a great newspaper in each of the 
 cities and there is a telegraph wire connect- 
 ing those offices. One night one of the men 
 of the London office was out very late, gath- 
 ering news, and when he came back he 
 couldn't get in because the man on the third 
 floor, where the office was, had fallen asleep, 
 and do what he could he was not able to wake 
 him up. So he went to the nearest telegraph 
 office and sent a message all the way to 
 60 
 
A Story About Prayer 6l 
 
 Edinburgh, and it read, " Wake up the man 
 in the third story." Then he went back 
 to the door and in a little while down came 
 his companion to open the door. 
 
 Don't you think that was a strange way by 
 which to reach the man in London ? The 
 message went all the way to Edinburgh 
 and then back to London, and it did the 
 work that he couldn't do, and he was within 
 a few steps of the very place he wanted to be. 
 
 Now, God can do some things for us better 
 than we can do them ourselves, or better than 
 our friends can do them for us, and prayer is 
 the way we talk to God. He is our helper, 
 and He will do for us far more than we have 
 ever thought He could do. 
 
/ 
 
 XX 
 
 Hector and His Little Boy 
 
 I AM going to tell you a story from a very 
 old book. It is older than much of our 
 Bible. They tell us that it was written by a 
 man whose name was Homer, but very little 
 is known about him except that he was a 
 great poet and that he was blind. 
 
 He tells a story about one of the great 
 soldiers of his time whose name was Hector. 
 He was starting out to one of the wars, for 
 war in those days was the main business of 
 life, and his wife and little boy came out to 
 say good-bye. He was dressed in his heavy 
 armour with his shining helmet flashing in 
 the sun, and looked very strange and very 
 dreadful, and when he put out his arms to 
 take his boy and kiss him, the little fellow 
 drew back to his mother and cried out for 
 fear and fright. When the father understood, 
 he took off his helmet and laid aside his 
 shield, and then the little lad knew that it 
 was his own dear father and running from his 
 mother he sprang into his father's arms and 
 kissed him again and again. 
 62 
 
Hector and His Little Boy 63 
 
 You know it is hard for us to think right 
 thoughts about God. We say that God is 
 great, that He is mighty, that He is a great 
 Judge and a great King, and these great 
 names frighten us and make us afraid. We 
 think of the thunder and the lightning as 
 His voice, but those things do not tell us the 
 truth about God, and so He sent Jesus into 
 the world. Jesus became a little child and 
 grew up to be a man and lived His beautiful 
 life among us, and said to those who wanted 
 to see God : " He that hath seen Me hath 
 seen the Father." It was Jesus who took 
 little children in His arms and blessed them, 
 and He it is who helps us to know God and 
 to love Him. Let us say it over again, 
 " God is Love." 
 
XXI 
 
 A Missionary Story 
 
 This is a missionary story. Not a mis- 
 sionary story about people far, far away in 
 China, or India or Africa, but right here at 
 home. Down in Iowa some years ago there 
 was a father and a mother and a little baby 
 boy and a little girl of seven. The father 
 was not getting along very well, and when 
 the new, great northwest country opened up, 
 he went to North Dakota and secured a farm 
 in a very lonely and out-of-the-way place. 
 When he came back and told his little girl 
 they were going to move far away, she asked 
 him, right off, the very first thing, if there 
 was any church there. You see she was 
 fond of church. Her father said there was no 
 church there. Then she asked him if there 
 was any Sunday-school. And he said, " No." 
 ** Is there any God there ? " she asked and 
 her father did not know what to say, and 
 so did not say anything. When they had 
 moved all the things out of the house to the 
 train and were ready to leave the old home, 
 no one could find the little girl. They hunted 
 64 
 
A Missionary Story 65 
 
 for her and hunted for her, and at last found 
 her. And do you know where they found 
 her? They found her in her own room, 
 now all bare and empty, and she was kneel- 
 ing in one corner with her face to the wall. 
 
 They wondered what she was doing", 
 and then her mother who first found her, 
 overheard her praying, and this is what she 
 said : ** Dear God, we are going to North 
 Dakota, and there is no Sunday-school there 
 and there is no church there, and there is no 
 God there. Good-bye, God. Good-bye." 
 When she got through, what do you think 
 her mother did ? With the tears in her eyes 
 she knelt down beside her litde girl and 
 asked God to send the Sunday-school and 
 the church to their new home, and to go 
 with them there Himself. And so they went 
 away to their new and lonely home in the 
 far West. Now, what do you think hap- 
 pened ? Within two months, the Sunday- 
 school missionary, one of the men we 
 support with our Children's Day offering, 
 came and started a Sunday-school, and 
 within five months they had a little church, 
 and the neighbours for miles and miles around 
 came to both Sunday-school and church. 
 
 A child's prayer is always answered. 
 
XXII / 
 
 A Boy Who Was a Bridge 
 
 Nearly a hundred years ago there was 
 born in Switzerland a little boy whose name 
 was Louis Agassiz. Isn't that a strange 
 name for a boy ? His father was a minister, 
 but I guess that hasn't anything to do with 
 his name. When he grew up to be a man 
 he came to America and was one of the 
 greatest scholars and scientists that the world 
 has ever had. But my story is not about a 
 man but about a boy. 
 
 When he was a little boy in Switzerland, 
 he lived on the border of a lake. You know 
 there are a great many beautiful lakes in 
 Switzerland. He had a little brother very 
 much smaller than himself, and these two 
 boys one day thought they would go across 
 the lake and meet their father. The lake 
 was covered with ice, and they started off to 
 walk across it to him. Their mother stood 
 at the window watching them and saw them 
 go along quite safely until they came to a 
 crack in the ice. It was not very wide, per- 
 haps only a foot, and the ice was quite thick, 
 66 
 
A Boy Who Was a Bridge 67 
 
 but the mother was afraid that the little 
 fellow would try to step over it and that he 
 would fall in. She could not call to them, 
 for they were too far away, and she could 
 not run after them because they would have 
 tried to get over before she could reach them ; 
 so she could only sit at the window and 
 watch and pray. Now, what do you think 
 happened ? Do you think they turned back, 
 or do you think they both jumped? Well, 
 they didn't do either. The big boy Louis 
 got down on the ice, his feet on one side of 
 the crack and his hands on the other just 
 like a bridge, and his little brother crept over 
 him to the other side. Then they both went 
 along laughing and jumping in great glee 
 until they met their father. 
 
 I think this is not only a pretty story, but 
 a very good story. Every big boy ought to 
 be a bridge for every little boy. Every boy 
 is big enough to help some other boy over 
 the dangerous places. A big boy should 
 help a little boy to hate swearing and smok- 
 ing and lying and cheating. I think Jesus 
 must have helped lots of little boys to do 
 what was right 
 
XXIII 
 The Copper That Became Gold 
 
 Once upon a time — I think this is a real 
 fairy story — in a very far-away country there 
 lived a great and wise king. Everybody 
 loved him, and the people from far and near 
 were glad to bring presents to the king to 
 show how much they loved him. 
 
 Now, there lived in the country a poor 
 old woman. She had been poor ail her life, 
 and knew nothing about riches or money or 
 wealth. Then there came a day when all 
 the people made their gifts to the king, and 
 all this poor woman had was just a copper 
 farthing. That is a piece of money less than 
 our penny, and she was ashamed of it and 
 said : " This is so small. I am afraid the 
 great king will be angry with me if I give it. 
 It is so small it would be better perhaps for 
 me to keep it to myself." But when she saw 
 the others giving their gifts, she changed her 
 mind and went with the rest to give her 
 farthing to the king. Now, the story goes, 
 that when she dropped it into the king's 
 hand something happened. What do you 
 68 
 
The Copper That Became Gold 6g 
 
 think happened? Well, this is what hap- 
 pened : When the king looked to see what 
 the poor old woman had given him, he saw 
 lying in his hand a coin of the purest gold. 
 Then the king was ashamed and loved the 
 poor old woman for her gift very much, but 
 thought it was too much for her to give, and 
 so taking the poor withered hand in his he 
 put the coin back into her hand again, but 
 when he looked at it in her hand, what do 
 you think he saw ? Why, it was just the old 
 copper coin again! Then she gave it to 
 l:he king once more, and again it was gold 
 in his hand. 
 
 Now, that's a fairy story, but it's a true 
 story. I think you know that most fairy 
 stories are true stories. Some day perhaps 
 you will understand what I mean by that, but 
 I think you know what this story means, for 
 when we give even our smallest gift to the 
 Master it becomes of far more worth than 
 when we keep it for ourselves. You know 
 Jesus saw a poor woman put in the collection 
 plate two farthings, and He said that what 
 she had given was worth more than all the 
 rich people had given. And you remember 
 the little boy who gave his lunch to Jesus, 
 and how Jesus with that little boy's lunch fed 
 more than five thousand men. 
 
XXIV 
 
 The Scholar's Prayer 
 
 About two hundred years ago there lived 
 in Germany a very wise man. His name was 
 Bengel — Johann Albrecht Bengel. Every 
 one knew that he was a great man and a great 
 scholar. He wrote books on the Bible that 
 are still read and studied. He was a good 
 man and every one who knew him loved 
 him. Don't you think it would be lovely if 
 we loved every one we knew and if all who 
 knew us loved us ? One of Bengel's friends 
 was very anxious to learn the secret of his 
 beautiful life, and decided he would hide 
 away in the great man's study and watch 
 what the dear old man did when he thought 
 no one but God was seeing him. Did you 
 ever see the study of a great scholar who 
 lives among books and desks and papers and 
 magazines ? Well, if you have, you know it 
 would not be hard to hide away somewhere 
 so no one could see you. Now that is just 
 what this friend did, and there behind 
 the books and the shelves he waited and 
 watched. That was not a very nice thing 
 70 
 
The Scholar's Prayer 71 
 
 to do, but we will forgive him because we 
 have such a nice story to tell about it. 
 This hide-and-seek man thought he would 
 not have to wait long to see what the old 
 man did and how he said his prayers, and 
 what he did to make him so good and beauti- 
 ful. I know some one who wouldn't miss 
 hearing a little girl say her prayer for more 
 money than you could count. But this hide- 
 and-seek man didn't guess how long he 
 would have to wait and watch. Nine o'clock, 
 ten o'clock, eleven o'clock came and still the 
 old man sat reading his Bible and thinking 
 over each word and writing out his notes, 
 which were afterwards to make his great 
 book on the New Testament. It was almost 
 twelve o'clock, and the man was still hiding 
 away behind the books and Bengel was still 
 hard at his task. At last, it struck twelve and 
 closing his books and clasping his hands and 
 closing his eyes, he began to pray. And 
 what do you think he heard ? Well, this was 
 the prayer: " Dear Lord Jesus, we are on the 
 same old terms." Just ten little words. Just 
 a little child's prayer. I can think of no 
 better prayer than that. How good it is to 
 be on "the same old terms" with the dear 
 Lord Jesus and to know that always and 
 everywhere we are the best of friends. 
 
XXV 
 
 Tongues and Ears 
 
 This is a missionary story. Not an old- 
 fashioned, dry-as-dust, good-for-nothing mis- 
 sionary story, but a real story from Japan, one 
 about Japanese children. You know the 
 children of Japan are just like other children, 
 and they love stories. Perhaps they love them 
 more than other children, for even on the 
 street corners one can sometimes see men tell- 
 ing stories to little boys and girls who gather 
 around them. One day a missionary who 
 happened to be around overheard one of 
 these men telling a group of little children a 
 story, and this is what he heard : 
 
 Once upon a time a little boy went to 
 heaven, and the first thing he saw was a 
 long shelf with something very strange upon 
 it. ** What is that ? " he asked. '* Is that 
 something to make soup of ? " You know 
 the Japanese are very fond of soup, and he 
 thought of course that these strange things 
 that he saw would be used for that purpose. 
 ** No," was the reply, ** they are ears belong- 
 ing to little boys and girls who didn't pay 
 72 
 
Tongues and Ears 73 
 
 any attention to what they heard and so 
 when they died their ears came to heaven, 
 but the rest of their bodies did not." The 
 little boy looked upon another shelf and saw 
 something more that was strange and queer 
 to him, and asked what it was. " Is that 
 something to make soup of ? " he said again. 
 ** No," he was told, ** those things are tongues. 
 They belong to boys and girls who were 
 always talking and telling other people how 
 to be good, but they themselves never did as 
 they told others to do and when they died 
 their tongues came to heaven, but the rest of 
 their bodies didn't." 
 
 Now, you know what that story means. 
 It is just like a fairy story, but like all fairy 
 stories, it has a lesson. God gives us ears 
 and tongues and hands and feet and eyes 
 and hearts to help us and to use rightly, and 
 if we don't use them as God wants us to use 
 them, they do us no good, but evil. Jesus 
 said it would be better for us to be blind 
 than to see only bad things, and that it would 
 be better for us to be deaf than for us to hear 
 only wicked things. 
 
XXVI 
 A Lion and a Little Dog 
 
 You all know what a zoo is. It's a place 
 where wild animals are kept. In the great 
 city of London they call the zoo the Zoo- 
 logical Gardens. It was one of the first zoos 
 in all the world, and many years ago the peo- 
 ple who went to London all visited the wild 
 animals that were kept there. 
 
 One day a strange man was visiting the 
 cages of the wild beasts, and he had with him 
 a little dog that was very unruly and dis- 
 obedient. When he came to the lion's cage, 
 where there was one of those great animals 
 that we call ** The King of the Forest," he 
 said to the keeper, ** You may throw that 
 little dog into the lion's cage, if you like." 
 The keeper reached down and catching the 
 little dog, opened the door of the cage and 
 threw it in to the great, fierce-looking beast. 
 The two men looked and expected to see the 
 lion eat up the little dog in just a minute, 
 but the lion did not do that. What do you 
 think it did ? The little dog crept off into a 
 corner of the cage, and they could see its 
 74 
 
A Lion and a Little Dog 75 
 
 hair moving for very fear and then they saw 
 the great lion walk slowly over to where it 
 was and put out its great, strong paw, and 
 stroke the head of the little dog. Then it 
 lay down beside its new found companion, 
 and they became fast friends. The man 
 went away wondering how long it would be 
 before the lion ate up the dog. After three 
 or four weeks he came back and was sur- 
 prised to see behind the bars of the cage 
 his little dog walking up and down beside 
 the huge beast, quite independent, as much 
 as to say, '* You see where I am." The man 
 hunted up the keeper, and said, " I guess the 
 lion doesn't want that little dog for his din- 
 ner, so I'll just take it home again. My 
 children have missed it, and I think I'd better 
 take it home." ** Well," said the keeper, 
 " here are the keys. You can get the dog 
 for yourself." Do you think he got the dog ? 
 Well, I guess he didn't. He couldn't get 
 near that cage to open the door, for the great 
 lion began to roar and would have used all 
 his great strength to protect the little dog 
 that had become his friend. 
 
 Many people are afraid of God, and some- 
 where in the Bible we read it is a fearful 
 thing to fall into the hands of the living God. 
 Well, so it is, for God is love and when we 
 
76 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 have hearts of sin and hearts of hate and 
 when we fight against God and go our own 
 way, we feel that all God's great power is 
 being used against us. We are afraid of 
 God, because we have wrong thoughts about 
 Him. When we give ourselves to Him and 
 trust Him, we find that instead of hurting 
 us He is our best friend, and uses all His 
 love and power and strength to protect 
 and keep and help us. Here are some of 
 the things He says : 
 
 ** I will never leave you, nor forsake you." 
 " He that cometh unto Me, I will in no 
 wise cast out." 
 
 " All power is given unto Me, and, lo, I am 
 with you always." 
 
XXVII 
 
 Beware of the Gamers Nose 
 
 This is an Arabian story, a story, I sup- 
 pose, like one of the stories of the ** Arabian 
 Nights." 
 
 An Arab, who was living alone in his tent, 
 was surprised to hear footsteps coming over 
 the sand straight for the door of his tent. He 
 listened, and was soon more surprised than 
 ever to see the folds of the tent door open 
 and the nose of a camel come through. ** Get 
 out of there," said the Arab. The camel 
 didn't move, but spoke back to the Arab, and 
 said : " It's so cold here on the outside. 
 Please let me put only my nose through the 
 door so that I may be warmed just a little." 
 ** Well, see that you come no further," said 
 the Arab, and having said that he went about 
 his work. When he turned to look again, 
 the camel's head was in at the door, and it 
 was looking all over the tent. *' Didn't I tell 
 you to come no further?" said the Arab. 
 " My head was cold," said the camel, " and I 
 thought if you would let my nose in you 
 would not mind about my head." " Well, 
 see that you come no further," said the Arab, 
 77 
 
78 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 and he went about his work. When he 
 looked again, the camel had put its front foot 
 and shoulder through the door and was 
 reaching farther into the tent. The man 
 turned quickly and was angry and told the 
 camel to move back and go away, and was 
 about to reach down and lift up a stick to 
 strike it, when the camel walked boldly into 
 the tent and drove the man forth from his 
 own home. 
 
 I think you know now what it means when 
 people say, '* Beware of the camel's nose," 
 There is only one way to keep the camel out, 
 and that is not to let even its nose in, and 
 there is only one way to keep evil out of our 
 thoughts and minds and hearts and that is 
 not to allow it to have the least entrance. 
 There's an old proverb that says : ** First, the 
 man took a drink. Then the drink took a 
 drink, and then the drink took the man." 
 That's always the way when we start a friend- 
 ship with things that are wrong. Perhaps 
 you will remember the story of the camel's 
 nose if I repeat to you some verses about it : 
 
 Once in a shop a workman wrought, 
 With languid hand and listless thought ; 
 
 When through the open window space, 
 Behold ! a camel thrust his face. 
 
 **My nose is cold," he meekly cried, 
 ** Oh, let me warm it by thy side." 
 
Beware of the Camel's Nose 79 
 
 Since no denial word was said, 
 
 In came the nose, in came the head ; 
 
 As true as sermon follows text, 
 
 The long and shaggy neck came next ; 
 
 And then as falls the threatening storm, 
 In leaped the whole ungainly form. 
 
 Aghast the owner gazed around. 
 
 And on the rude invader frowned, 
 Convinced as closer still he pressed, 
 
 There was no room for such a guest ; 
 Yet more astonished, heard him say, 
 
 " If thou art troubled, go thy way. 
 For in this place I choose to stay." 
 
 Oh, youthful hearts to gladness born. 
 Treat not this Arab lore with scorn ; 
 
 To evil habits, earliest wile. 
 
 Lend neither ear, nor glance, nor smile; 
 
 Check the dark fountain ere it flows, 
 Nor e'en admit the camel's nose.'* 
 
XXVIII 
 
 A Little Lost Lamb 
 
 I HAVE a story for you about a little lost 
 lamb. We have heard often about the lost 
 sheep, but this time it is about a lost lamb. 
 It was off in the far-away country of Aus- 
 tralia, which is, you know, the largest island 
 in the whole world and has great unfenced 
 hills and plains and farms. One day this 
 little lamb wandered off from the flock where 
 it belonged and got mixed up with a lot of 
 strange sheep and lambs. But the owner of 
 the little lamb hunted for it and at last found 
 it and claimed it, but the farmer in whose 
 field the little lamb was found would not give 
 it back but claimed it as his own. So the 
 owner of the lamb went to the great judge in 
 the court room and asked that the little lamb 
 be given back to him again. 'The farmer 
 said the little lamb was his. So how could 
 the judge tell ? One man said it was his, 
 and the other said it was his. So what was 
 he to do ? What a dreadful thing it is, not 
 to tell the truth ! Well, he was a wise judge, 
 a very wise judge, and he ordered the farmer 
 80 
 
A Little Lost Lamb 81 
 
 to bring the little lamb into the courtyard. 
 You can imagine how timid and frightened 
 and lonely the little thing would be. How 
 would you like to be taken all alone into a 
 great judge's court? When the Httle lamb 
 was shut in the courtyard, the judge told the 
 farmer to go and call the lamb. So down he 
 went and called and called. Do you know 
 how to call a little lamb ? — " Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba." 
 But the little lamb just raised its head and 
 looked frightened. Then the judge called 
 the man who said he had lost the lamb and 
 told him to call. So he did, but first he hid 
 behind a tree in the courtyard, and then he 
 began to call, in a sweet, winning way — 
 " Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba," and the little lamb began 
 to run round and round and at last came to 
 the tree where the man was hiding and call- 
 ing, and when it found him it began to lick 
 his hand and rub its little head on the man's 
 legs as little lambs that are happy fre- 
 quently do. I have often seen them do it, 
 and perhaps you have too. Then, of course, 
 the judge knew whose the little lamb was, 
 and off it went with the man that loved it, 
 contented and happy. 
 
 There is a story something like this in 
 the Bible. It tells us that we are like the 
 little lost lamb and that Jesus is our Good 
 
82 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 % 
 Shepherd, and this is the story : ** The sheep 
 hear His voice; and He calleth His own 
 sheep by name and leadeth them out. And 
 when He putteth forth His own sheep He 
 goeth before them, and the sheep follow Him ; 
 for they know His voice. But a stranger will 
 they not follow, but will flee from him ; for 
 they know not the voice of strangers." 
 
XXIX 
 
 A Rich Lady's Dream 
 
 I HAVE heard of a lady who had a very 
 strange dream. You know how strange 
 most of our dreams are. But this was such 
 a strange dream. She was a very rich 
 woman, and the people said she was a very 
 good woman. One night she dreamed that 
 she went up to heaven and one of the angels 
 showed her through the streets of the beauti- 
 ful city. She saw such beautiful houses and 
 palaces as she had never seen before. At 
 last she came to one that was just being built. 
 It was more beautiful than those around it, 
 and she asked her guide whose it was. 
 "Oh," said the angel, "that is for your 
 gardener." The lady was much surprised 
 and said : ** For my gardener ! Why, he is 
 only a poor man and has always lived in a 
 little bit of a house." The angel said nothing, 
 but led her on through the streets and avenues 
 of the city. Soon they came to a plain look- 
 ing house, low-roofed, and very simple. Of 
 course it too was beautiful, for everything is 
 beautiful in heaven, but it was not like the 
 83 
 
84 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 other fine palaces she had seen. Then she 
 asked the angel whose the little low cottage 
 house was. The angel said, " This is to be 
 your house." "Mine?" said the lady. "Why, 
 I have always lived in a mansion down on 
 the earth." " Yes, I know," said the angel, 
 " but the Great Builder is doing the best He 
 can with the material that is being sent up." 
 That is a strange dream, but you know what 
 it means. We are all building our lives and 
 characters for heaven, and we are doing it 
 now. Every kind deed, and every true word 
 and every beautiful thought are stones in the 
 building. The kind of house we will live in 
 will depend on the kind of stuff we are putting 
 into our lives now. There is a hymn we sing 
 in the Sunday-school, and it runs like this : 
 
 «* Building, daily building, while the moments fly 
 We are ever building— -life-work for on high. 
 Character we're building — thoughts and actions free 
 Make for us a building for eternity." 
 
 Next time you sing it, think of this rich lady's 
 dream. 
 
XXX ^/ 
 
 The Story of a Bad Boy 
 
 This is a story told by the president of one 
 of our great universities. So it must be well 
 worth hearing". It was out West, in a graded 
 school. He belonged to the seventh grade 
 and had been sent up to the principal so 
 often that at last he was told to report at the 
 office after school. You know what that 
 means. Well, when school was dismissed 
 the bad boy found himself seated at the 
 principal's desk copying out on a white sheet 
 of paper all the offenses he had committed 
 during the year. When he had written for 
 five minutes he showed the record to the 
 principal. The principal opened a drawer in 
 the desk and took out a record book and 
 turning to the bad boy^s name began to 
 read the record he had kept of every offense 
 for which the boy had been punished during 
 the year. Again the boy set to work to make 
 the record of his bad deeds complete. After 
 several reminders by the principal, the list 
 was finished and it was long and black and 
 85 
 
86 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 bad. The boy was then supplied with fresh 
 paper and told to write a sentence or two 
 about each offense, explaining why it had 
 been committed. By this time the bad 
 boy was beginning to know pretty thor- 
 oughly his own long, bad record. When 
 the task was ended he was told to write out 
 all he had written on clean, white paper. He 
 was tired and hungry when he finished, and 
 the darkness was casting shadows in the 
 room. "Now," said the principal, ''take 
 this sheet and with pen and ink make as 
 good a copy as you can and we will send it 
 home to your mother." But the boy refused 
 this time to obey, and the tears were in his 
 eyes. "Why not?" said the principal. 
 *• Because I don't want mother to know about 
 this." " But doesn't your mother know what 
 sort of a boy you are ? " " No, she doesn't," 
 said the bad boy. " Does she think you're 
 a good boy?" asked the principal. And 
 through the tears that were surprising both 
 the boy and the principal, he said, "Yes." 
 "And so," said the principal, "you don't 
 want your mother to know what sort of a 
 boy you are at school. But I don't see how 
 we can help it, for I have tried everything 
 with you. Let me think a minute." The 
 principal walked up and down the room as 
 
The Story of a Bad Boy 87 
 
 the boy tried to dry away the tears he was 
 ashamed of, and then standing before the 
 lad, said, " Do you think you could be the 
 sort of boy your mother thinks you are?" 
 The boy thought he could. ''Well, then I'll 
 tell you what we'll do. We will place what 
 you have written in this large envelope and 
 seal it and put it away in my safe. If you 
 are not sent up to me again this year, we 
 will just put the whole thing in the furnace 
 and say no more about it." There was a 
 lump in the boy's throat and he didn't say 
 anything, and so that is all there is to the 
 story. No, not all. That is all that is bad, 
 perhaps, but there is lots of good to be added 
 to the story, for the boy never troubled the 
 teacher after that and was the principal's 
 loyal friend to the end of school. 
 
 It is something like this that God does for 
 us with all our wrong-doing and bad con- 
 duct and wicked, sinful thoughts and words 
 and acts. If we are only willing to give up 
 our wrong ways, God will forgive and for- 
 get all the past. Listen to what He says He 
 will do with our sins when we are willing to 
 do what He would like to have us do : 
 
 I. He says He will remove them as far as 
 the east is from the west. Could you measure 
 the length of that distance ? 
 
88 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 2. He says He will remember them no 
 more. 
 
 3. He says He will cast them behind His 
 back. 
 
 4. He says He will cast them into the 
 depths of the sea. 
 
 5. He says He will blot them out as a 
 thick cloud. 
 
 When boys and girls know what a loving 
 and forgiving friend they have in God they 
 become His loving and loyal friends forever. 
 
XXXI 
 
 The Hidden Ring 
 
 Once upon a time — that sounds like a 
 fairy story, and perhaps it is — a beautiful 
 princess was given a silver egg as a wedding 
 present. She was surprised to get it and 
 wondered why anybody could be so foolish 
 as to give her a silver eggy for she didn't 
 know what use she could make cf it, but 
 when she handled it she touched a little 
 secret spring and found inside the egg a 
 yellow yolk of pure gold. Then she was 
 curious and began to feel the shining gold, 
 when what do you think happened ? It too 
 flew open, and there inside was a beautiful, 
 beautiful bird. So she held the bird in her 
 hand, and when she pressed the wings of the 
 bird she found in its breast the prettiest little 
 jewel crown, bright with many colours, and 
 then inside the crown, which opened also by 
 a secret spring, she found a ring with beauti- 
 ful diamonds which exactly fitted the finger 
 of the princess herself. 
 
 Now, boys and girls, life is just like that. 
 When we are little we don't see its real 
 89 
 
90 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 meaning, but as the years go by and the 
 secret springs open up new treasures, little 
 by little and more and more we get to see 
 that after all there is something strange about 
 it, and at last at the very end we find some- 
 thing that is exactly suited for ourselves, and 
 for no one else. I wonder if you ever ask 
 yourself what you are doing here, and what 
 God means you to do and what He means 
 you to be ? Perhaps you can't answer those 
 questions now but if you will follow Him 
 day by day and year by year, at last He will 
 lead you to see that He has something much 
 more beautiful for you than you could have 
 discovered for yourself. 
 
XXXII 
 
 A Little Lost Bird 
 
 When we left the great city of Liverpool, 
 it was beginning to grow dark, and the dark- 
 ness was already drifting up the river. We 
 were starting on the long voyage across the 
 wide ocean on the Empress of Britam and 
 the great sea-gulls were following the big 
 ship expecting their evening meal, but as the 
 night fell and we reached the open sea and 
 the land began to fade away, they stopped 
 following the ship and returned to the quieter 
 waters of the river. 
 
 When the morning broke we were far out 
 upon the deep, deep sea, but we noticed a 
 little land bird sitting in the rigging of the 
 ship and singing a good-morning song. We 
 had passed by all sight of land and were too 
 far from home for the little bird to return. 
 What could it do, and why was it there? 
 We wondered why it had left home. Had it 
 been naughty or angry, or had its own little 
 restless nature led it out and out and on and 
 on until it lost all thought of home and it was 
 too late to return ? Nobody knew, but there 
 91 
 
92 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 it was and there it took up its home and, like 
 Noah's dove, waited in sweet content, finding 
 no other place to rest its little feet. 
 
 The sailors saw it, watched it and fed it 
 with crumbs they gathered at their own meal, 
 and it drank from the water on the ship's 
 deck. Once or twice a day we saw it strike 
 out from the ship as if at last it had decided 
 to return home, but in a few minutes back it 
 came out of the haze to find rest in some 
 hidden place about the great boat. 
 
 So it lived on through the eventless days 
 of the voyage until we reached the shores of 
 the new world, where we lost it among the 
 rocks and hills of Labrador. I suppose it has 
 there found some new companions and is 
 glad for the freer and larger life, which for a 
 while had been denied to it. 
 
 Whether we will or not, you and I must 
 make our way across the great sea of life. It 
 is all so strange and so fearful-like, with the 
 great sea never still and the darkness coming 
 down in the night and the fog thickening 
 around. There is only one way by which we 
 can safely cross to the other side. We must 
 keep close to where safety lies. There is in 
 the Bible one of the most wonderful stories 
 of the sea that was ever written. It is a story 
 of storm and shipwreck, and in the story 
 
A Little Lost Bird 93 
 
 there is a verse which reads like this : " Ex- 
 cept these abide in the ship they cannot be 
 saved." It was well for all on board that day 
 that they stayed close to the ship, and it will be 
 well for us. We speak of Jesus as our Pilot, 
 and so He is, but He is also the ship, and 
 with Him in the deepest fog and out on the 
 darkest sea, you and I will be as safe as was 
 the little bird that kept us company across 
 the great oceaa 
 
>hey T 
 
 XXXIII 
 
 The Tree on the Chimney Top 
 
 Over in a little Scottish town, called 
 Stewarton, near the country where Robert 
 Burns lived and where my father and mother 
 played together as children, there is one of the 
 most interesting things I ever saw. I had 
 often heard it spoken about in my home 
 and when visiting there not long ago I 
 discovered it for myself. By the side of a 
 little stream — the Scotch people call it a burn 
 — there is a mill, and on the mill there is a 
 great tall chimney — the Scotch people call it a 
 lum — and on the chimney, at the very top, 
 there is a little tree about as high as a man 
 and as slender as a broomstick. It has been 
 growing there for I don't know how long. It 
 was there when my mother was a girl and 
 after she had been away for nearly fifty years 
 she returned to visit her native town and it 
 was still there and seemed no bigger and no 
 taller and was just as healthy and just as 
 hearty as it ever had been. There it has 
 grown, high in the air, fifty feet or more from 
 the ground and has stood against wind and 
 94 
 
The Tree on the Chimney Top 95 
 
 weather, summer and winter, during all these 
 many years. 
 
 How does.itHve? Why does it not die? 
 You can see the reason if you look carefully, 
 for you will find that it has a little root run- 
 ning from the chimney top right down the side 
 of the wall, which at last buries itself in the 
 rich soil beside the little stream. That root 
 feeds the tree and in this way it has lived for 
 nearly a hundred years. 
 
 Do you remember when Jesus was talking 
 once about men and women and boys and 
 girls who began well, who promised big 
 things, who were enthusiastic and had lots to 
 say and then after a while grew lazy and 
 indifferent, and lost their interest in church 
 and Sunday-school and all other good things, 
 He said the reason was that they had no root 
 and like a rootless tree they soon withered 
 away ? See that the root goes down deep. 
 The deeper the better. The root feeds the 
 life. 
 
 The root of the mind is study and thought. 
 
 The root of the body is food and exercise. 
 
 The root of the conscience is duty and 
 truth. 
 
 The root of the soul is service and prayer 
 and Bible study and God. 
 
XXXIV 
 
 A Child Who Was a King 
 
 I DON'T know whether I can tell you this 
 story so that you will understand it or not, 
 but I will try. Louis XVI was the last king 
 of France. The people of France put him to 
 death, and after that they had presidents for 
 their rulers, just as we have. 
 
 When Louis XVI died, he left behind him 
 a little son who would have been Louis XVII, 
 if the change had not been made in the gov- 
 ernment of his country. This little boy was 
 kept a prisoner, and the people who had him 
 in charge tried to do everything they could 
 to make him forget that he had a king for 
 his father, and tried to fill his mind with bad 
 thoughts and bad feelings and bad words. 
 He was a sensitive and nervous little fellow, 
 and having been born in a cultured home and 
 with the blood of royalty in his body, he 
 turned away from the bad men who vexed 
 and annoyed him and tried to forget their 
 wicked teaching. Sometimes they would 
 press him too hard and tempt him too much, 
 and then he would turn away from them and 
 96 
 
A Child Who Was a King 97 
 
 say through his tears : ** I can't say it. I 
 can't do it, for I was born to be king." I 
 think he must have been a brave boy. 
 
 Every boy and girl is the child of a King. 
 We, too, have been born into a royal family. 
 God means that we shall reign with Him. 
 The Bible says ; '' We know not what we 
 shall be, but we know that when He shall 
 appear we shall be like Him." Whenever 
 you are tempted to say a bad word, or to 
 think a bad thought, or to have a bad feeling, 
 or to do a bad thing, remember that you, too, 
 were born to be a king. 
 
XXXV 
 
 Writing With Ink 
 
 I REMEMBER hearing a story when I was a 
 boy, which I have never forgotten, and which 
 I would like to tell to you. It is about a 
 little boy who was in the habit of doing very 
 bad and naughty things and his father had 
 tried in every way he knew to break him of 
 it. At last he said to the boy, whose name 
 was Harvey : '' Harvey, Til tell you what 
 we'll do. Every time you do something 
 wrong, I'll nail a nail in the old wood-shed 
 door so you can see how often you have been 
 naughty, and perhaps that will make you 
 ashamed and cause you to be more careful." 
 So, day after day, more nails were seen on 
 the old door, until at last Harvey became 
 ashamed and began to correct his faults and 
 to do better. Then every time he did some- 
 thing kind, his father drew one of the nails 
 out of the door until at last every nail was 
 gone again. His father took his boy out to 
 see the last nail drawn, and was happy to 
 think that Harvey had ceased to be bad and 
 had become quite a good boy. When they 
 98 
 
Writing With Ink 99 
 
 were turning away from the place, his father 
 noticed the tears in Harvey's eyes, and asked 
 him what was the matter. " Oh," he said, 
 "the nails are all gone, but the marks are 
 there yet." 
 
 So you see, boys and girls, that even 
 though we have been forgiven for the wicked 
 things we have done, sometimes the marks 
 are left in our lives. Let us be careful and 
 try to live so that we will not have to undo 
 what we once did. Here are some lines of 
 poetry that I want you to learn. I have read 
 them often, and I think you will like to read 
 them too : 
 
 ** My little boy came home from school to-day, 
 
 With his heart in a flurry of glee ; 
 ' Oh, papa, they have taken our pencils away. 
 
 And I'm writing with ink,* said he; 
 And his breast is filled with a manly pride, 
 
 For it joys him much to think 
 He has laid his pencil and slate aside, 
 
 And is writing his words with ink. 
 
 '* Oh, innocent child, could you guess the truth, 
 
 You would ask of the years to stay, 
 'Mid the slate and pencil cares of youth. 
 
 That a tear will wash away. 
 For out in the great wide world of men. 
 
 The wrongs we do or think 
 Can never be blotted out again, 
 
 For we write them all with ink." 
 
XXXVI 
 A Boy Hero 
 
 His name was John Coleridge Patteson. 
 The world knows him as Bishop Patteson. 
 He was a great missionary to the South Sea 
 Islands, and he was killed by the bad men 
 whom he tried to make good. He had 
 landed on the island to speak some words of 
 peace to the savage natives, but they killed 
 him before he could speak to them and put 
 his dead body in an open boat and sent it out to 
 sea. That was the kind of man he was. He 
 was a brave, good, strong man, and brave, 
 good, strong men are made out of brave, 
 good, strong boys. 
 
 When he was a boy in school, he was cap- 
 tain of the cricket team. You know cricket 
 is the national game in England just as base- 
 ball is with us, and he was one of the best 
 cricket players in the college. After one of 
 the games at which his team had won, the 
 boys were full of merrymaking, and soon 
 began to tell silly jokes and to use bad words. 
 At last Collie — that was what they called 
 him — could stand it no longer, and rose up 
 
 lOO 
 
A Boy Hero loi 
 
 from his place and said clearly in his own 
 boyish voice : ** I must leave the team if this 
 talk goes on. I'll not share in it, and I'll not 
 listen to it. If it goes on I must leave the 
 room and resign from the team." And he 
 did leave the room, and he did resign. Now, 
 you know what that meant when he was the 
 best player. They gathered around him and 
 pled with him not to leave them and prom- 
 ised that they would never again annoy him 
 with their bad language and unclean stories, 
 and he went back and led the team to vic- 
 tory. 
 
 A boy who is ashamed to do right, to tell 
 the truth, to shun bad companions, to speak 
 against bad language and all meanness, is a 
 cow^ard, and the boy who is not ashamed to 
 do right, even if he must stand all alone, is a 
 hero. 
 
XXXVII 
 
 Little Shadi's Prayer 
 
 All the little boys and girls that I know 
 like to pray. Each one of them has a little 
 prayer of his own. Sometimes it is one given 
 by the child's mother, and sometimes it is 
 one the litde child makes for himself. Of 
 course it is not a prayer like a grandfather or 
 a grandmother would make, and I guess it 
 ought not to be like grandfather's or grand- 
 mother's. Grandmothers and grandfathers 
 can have their own kind of prayers, but, after 
 all, a little child's prayer is about the best I 
 know. 
 
 I want to tell you a story about a little 
 boy's prayer. His name was Shadi. He 
 lived far away in India. He was a litde 
 orphan boy, and when he was just six years 
 old he went to live with a missionary lady, 
 who was very kind to him and taught him to 
 love Jesus, and gave him a little prayer for 
 his own. One night when he was going to 
 bed, his missionary mother said to him, " Now, 
 Shadi, I want you to pray a little prayer of 
 your own." What do you think this litde 
 
 I02 
 
Little Shadi's Prayer 103 
 
 boy's prayer was ? It was very short, for 
 you know he was only six years old and it is 
 only old people who make very long prayers. 
 This was what he said : ** Dear Jesus, make 
 me like what you were when you were six 
 years old." Don't you think that was a good 
 prayer for a little six-year-old boy ? To be 
 like Jesus was when He was only six years 
 old would be the very best thing in all the 
 world for a little boy who was just six years 
 old himself. Boys and girls ought not to be 
 like their fathers and mothers and grand- 
 fathers and grandmothers, for they must not 
 have old heads on young shoulders, but must 
 be just as sweet and simple and childlike as 
 we are sure Jesus was when He was a little 
 boy in His mother's home. 
 
XXXVIII 
 The Three Golden Apples 
 
 Did you ever know a girl who was called 
 by the name of Atalanta ? The only person 
 I know by that name was a Greek princess. 
 Although she lived so very long ago, yet she 
 was much like the girls of to-day. First of 
 all, she was very beautiful — so beautiful that 
 all the young men who knew her wanted to 
 marry her. Then she was very fond of 
 athletics. She could run faster than any one 
 else, and she liked to live and romp in the 
 open air. She said that she would never 
 marry any one who couldn't run faster than 
 she could. Her beauty attracted so very 
 many young men who wanted to race with 
 her, that in order to be free from their plead- 
 ings she said that those who failed to win in 
 the race would be put to death. She thought 
 that would keep them from bothering her, but 
 still they came and tried to win the race, but 
 were always beaten and always punished. 
 
 One day a very handsome prince came and 
 asked her to marry him, and said he was 
 willing to run the race with her. But she 
 104 
 
The Three Golden Apples 105 
 
 was very fleet-footed, and he soon found that 
 she could outrun him. He was a very clever 
 young man, however, and when he found 
 that he was being beaten he took from his 
 robe a golden apple, which he had hidden 
 there for the very purpose, and threw it on 
 the road ahead of her. Atalanta saw it, and 
 was so surprised and so eager to secure it, 
 that she stopped for a moment to pick it up. 
 While she was picking it up, he ran past 
 her and so gained some little distance. 
 A second time as she was gaining on 
 him, he cast another golden apple, and again 
 she stopped long enough to get it. A third 
 time, when the goal was almost reached, he 
 flung the last golden apple at her feet, and as 
 she stooped to pick it up he ran on ahead of 
 her, past the goal, and the race was won. 
 
 The Bible often speaks of life as a race. 
 We are to run the race that is set before us 
 looking unto Jesus. We are not to look to 
 the right hand, or to the left, but to keep 
 right on. The boy or the girl who turns 
 aside from the right path to gather the 
 pleasures of the world may at last lose the 
 race. There are many things that God 
 means us to enjoy, but we must not wander 
 from our purpose, or lose the path in order to 
 secure them. 
 
The Broken Vase 
 
 A HUNDRED years ago there lived in Eng- 
 land a great potter. You know a potter is a 
 man who makes beautiful things out of clay. 
 His name was Josiah Wedgwood, and the 
 things he made are now very, very rare and 
 costly. 
 
 One day an English nobleman came to see 
 him in his great factory and to visit and 
 study the works. One of his employees, 
 a little lad of about fifteen years, went with 
 the nobleman and explained to him how the 
 work was done. Now, this nobleman was a 
 man who didn't believe in God, and who, 
 while he was smart, yet was very rough in 
 his speech and used many bad words and 
 made light of sacred things. The boy was 
 at first greatly shocked at the nobleman's 
 wicked words, but after a while laughed at 
 his smart remarks. Mr. Wedgwood, who 
 followed them, heard much of the conversa- 
 tion and was very indignant at the way in 
 which the nobleman spoke before the boy. 
 When they came back to the office, Mr 
 io6 
 
The Broken Vase 107 
 
 Wedgwood picked out a very beautiful 
 vase of the choicest pattern, and holding it 
 in his hands, told the nobleman the long and 
 careful way in which it had been made. The 
 nobleman was greatly pleased with the ex- 
 planation and was much charmed with the 
 beautiful shape and colour and design of the 
 vase, and reached out his hand to take it. 
 Just as he touched it, however, the owner let 
 it fall to the ground, and his visitor uttering 
 an angry word said, " I wanted that one for 
 myself, and now it is ruined by your careless- 
 ness." "My lord," said the old potter, 
 "there are things more precious than any 
 vase, — things which when ruined can never be 
 restored. I can make another vase like this 
 for you, but you can never give back to the 
 boy, who has just left us, the simple faith and 
 the pure heart which you have destroyed by 
 making light of sacred things and by using 
 impure words in his presence." 
 
 Don't you think that was a good sermon 
 for a great nobleman? I have heard men 
 say that they would give their right arm 
 if they could forget some of the things 
 they heard when they were boys. " Enter 
 not into the path of the wicked, and go not 
 m the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not 
 by it, turn from it and pass away." 
 
4n 
 
 XL 
 
 Who Is the Prettiest Girl ? 
 
 I THINK girls are the queerest things in all 
 the world. I am going to tell you a story 
 about three young girls who quarrelled 
 among themselves as to who had the most 
 beautiful hands. Don't you think that was 
 a funny thing to quarrel about? One of 
 them dipped her hands in the beautiful clear 
 water of the running brook, and said, " See 
 how white and pretty my hands are." The 
 second one gathered berries until her fingers 
 were pink, just as if she had coloured them 
 most beautifully. The third girl walked 
 among the flowers and picked the roses until 
 her hands were sweet with the perfume, but 
 still they couldn't decide whose hands were 
 the most beautiful. Did I say there were three 
 girls ? Well, there were four. But the fourth 
 girl didn't quarrel about her beauty, for she 
 didn't think she had any to quarrel about. 
 Then an old woman came along, poor and 
 wrinkled and old. She was a beggar and 
 asked each of the girls for something to eat, 
 but each of the three put her hands behind 
 io8 
 
Who is the Prettiest Girl ? 109 
 
 her and said she had nothing to give. But 
 the fourth girl gave her of what she had, 
 and then the face of the poor old woman be- 
 gan to shine and became lovelier than any 
 face they had ever seen, and she said, " It's 
 not the hands that are dipped in the brook, 
 nor the hands that are painted by the berries, 
 nor the hands that are perfumed by the flowers 
 that are the most beautiful, but the hands 
 that give to the poor," and as she said those 
 words she changed — for you know this is a 
 fairy story — she changed into a beautiful 
 angel, and before they could say anything to 
 her she was gone. 
 
 I think you know what this story means. 
 It means that the most lovely beauty in all the 
 world is the beauty which comes from sweet- 
 ness and goodness and kindness and love, 
 and these belong to our hearts and minds 
 rather than to our faces and our hands. 
 
 *' Beautiful faces are those that wear, 
 It matters httle if dark or fair, 
 Whole-souled honesty printed there. 
 
 " Beautiful hands are tl^ose that do 
 Work that is earnest, brave and true, 
 Moment by moment the long day through, 
 
 ** Beautiful feet are they iliat go. 
 On kindly ministry to and fro, 
 Down lowliest ways, if God wills so." 
 
The Son of a Soldier 
 
 General Havelock was one of the great 
 soldiers of the British army. He was a great 
 man and a good man who fought in the 
 war in India. He used to rise at three or four 
 o'clock in the morning to read his Bible. 
 When he was at home he lived in London 
 with his wife and little boy, whose name was 
 Henry. 
 
 When Henry was perhaps ten or twelve 
 years old, he and his father went out together, 
 and during the afternoon when they were 
 crossing London Bridge his father, thinking 
 of another engagement, said to his son : 
 " Henry, you stay here on the bridge until I 
 come back for you." Now, London Bridge 
 at that time was a very interesting place. It 
 was crowded with stores and shops and in- 
 teresting people, and Henry was quite at 
 home there. His father went to his own work 
 and became so interested in it that he forgot 
 all about his boy, and when the work was 
 ended he went ofl home to his supper, where 
 a friend was waiting for him who had been 
 no 
 
The Son of a Soldier 111 
 
 invited to dine at his home that night. Dur- 
 ing the evening meal, Mrs. Havelock looked 
 up and said to her husband : *' My dear, 
 where is Henry ? " for she knew that they 
 had gone out together early in the afternoon 
 and that she had not seen the boy since. 
 
 The general sprang to his feet. *' Poor 
 fellow," he said, " I guess Henry is standing 
 on London Bridge waiting for me. I left him 
 there early in the afternoon and told him to 
 wait for me, and I forgot all about the ap- 
 pointment." Leaving his guest, he called a 
 cab and drove to London Bridge, where he 
 found Henry just where he left him and they 
 came home smiling. " You see, sir," said 
 General Havelock to his friend, " this is the 
 kind of obedience which is seen in a soldier's 
 family." 
 
 We can't all be soldiers and generals and 
 sons of soldiers, but we can all be obedient, 
 just as obedient as soldiers are, for indeed, 
 after all, we are soldiers — the soldiers of a 
 greater King than this world knows — and 
 Jesus is our Captain, the Captain of our sal- 
 vation. 
 
XLII 
 
 The Prince of Wales 
 
 You know the eldest son of the King of 
 England is called the Prince of Wales. Once 
 when Edward VII, who died only a short time 
 ago, was Prince of Wales he was in school 
 at Eton, and one of the boys who did not 
 know him asked him his name, whom he 
 lived with, and where he lived. You see he 
 was an inquisitive boy, and so the future King 
 of England said to him : " My name is Wales. 
 I live with my mother, and my home is at 
 Windsor Castle." He was Prince of Wales 
 for a very long time. I wonder if you know 
 why the eldest son of the King of England is 
 called the Prince of Wales ? If you listen, I 
 will tell you. 
 
 Many years ago the little country of Wales 
 was a kingdom all by itself and had its own 
 government, but after a time it was conquered 
 by England and became part of the British 
 nation, but the Welsh people were not very 
 happy and not very contented under the 
 English rule. Now it happened that one of 
 the kings of England, Edward I, loved the 
 
 112 
 
The Prince of Wales 1 13 
 
 Welsh people and lived in their country and 
 visited in their homes, and promised them 
 that some day he would give them a prince 
 of their own who would rule over them. The 
 King and the Queen were living then in the 
 wonderful Castle of Caernarvon, and while 
 there in the year 1284 there was born to them 
 a little baby boy, and remembering his 
 promise the king called him the Prince of 
 Wales and he afterwards became King Ed- 
 ward II. The Welsh people were very proud 
 of their new prince, and said, " Now he is 
 one of our very own, called by our name and 
 born in our country. We'll love him and 
 we'll serve him." 
 
 I know another and a more wonderful 
 story than that, about another Prince. It is 
 a Bible story. His name is the Prince of 
 Peace. God sent His own Son into the world, 
 to be our Prince and our Saviour. When we 
 come to know Him, we love Him and give 
 our hearts wholly to Him, and at last He be- 
 comes what I hope He is for each one of us 
 — a Saviour and a King. 
 
XLIII 
 
 Little Faithful 
 
 We have been hearing a great deal lately 
 about the North Pole. For many years 
 people have tried to find it, and at last it has 
 been discovered by Peary and everybody is 
 satisfied. 
 
 Some years ago a man by the name of 
 Nansen started off from his home in Europe 
 to go far into the cold icy country of the 
 North to see if he could be the first to find 
 the long-sought North Pole. He was a very 
 brave man, and knew what it was to stand 
 the cold and to endure hardship. He was 
 gone for months and months, and no one 
 heard anything from him. His wife waited 
 and waited and waited, but no word came and 
 she didn't know whether he was living or 
 whether he had died in that lonely land of the 
 North. One day, after she had waited for 
 thirty long, long months, a little bird — a little 
 carrier pigeon — came to her window and 
 tapped gently on the pane. She had been 
 watching for this little messenger for many 
 long days, for when her husband went away 
 114 
 
Little Faithful 1 1 5 
 
 he took with him some little carrier pigeons, so 
 that he might be able to send a message to his 
 home. The window was quickly opened, 
 and the little messenger was lifted in and 
 covered with kisses by the poor woman who 
 had waited so long for word from her hus- 
 band. The little bird had come straight from 
 the North, over a thousand miles of ice and a 
 thousand miles of water with a message from 
 the explorer to his wife, which said that all 
 was well. 
 
 I think the bird's name ought to be " Little 
 Faithful." How quickly it went ! How 
 straight it flew ! Without waiting and with- 
 out turning aside, it never rested until it was 
 home. Children who run errands for their 
 parents might learn something from Little 
 Faithful. God made the little carrier pigeon, 
 and taught it how to fly and where to go. 
 People call it instinct, but nobody knows 
 what instinct is. God can put His own faith- 
 ful spirit into you and me, so that we will go 
 in the right way and do the right thing and 
 be messengers of mercy to many hearts, and 
 that same spirit will at last lead us on over 
 the fair fields of life and over the dark, deep 
 river of death until we come safely to our 
 heavenly Father's Home. 
 
XLIV / 
 
 Fifty-Seven Pennies 
 
 Some years ago in the great city of Phila* 
 delphia, a little girl came to a small Sunday- 
 school and asked to be taken into one of the 
 classes. The classes were all so full and the 
 church was so small, that there seemed to be 
 no room for her. She was very much dis- 
 appointed, and although she was very poor 
 she began to save her pennies so that the 
 church might be built bigger, and that she 
 and other poor little children might have a 
 place to go to Sunday-school. She didn't 
 tell any one what she was doing, and nobody 
 knew she was saving the few pennies that 
 were given to her until the pastor of that little 
 church called at her bedside. She was very 
 sick, oh, so sick, and after a little while God 
 took her out of her sufferings, and after she had 
 passed away they found under her pillow a 
 little old red pocketbook and in it they found 
 fifty-seven pennies that she had saved, and a 
 little scrap of paper on which was written the 
 reason why she had saved her pennies, and 
 her great wish that she might help to build a 
 ii6 
 
Fifty-Seven Pennies 117 
 
 church where all little children might have a 
 place. The pcistor who conducted the funeral 
 was a great, good man, and the story of 
 that little pocketbook and those fifty-seven 
 pennies got into the papers and the people 
 read about it with tears in their eyes. It 
 appealed to everybody. She was only a 
 little girl, six and a half years old, and what 
 could her fifty-seven pennies do ? But people 
 began to give the pastor of the little church 
 money, and then more money and more 
 money, and in six years those fifty-seven 
 pennies had become $250,000. To-day if 
 you go to Philadelphia, you will see this little 
 girl's picture hanging in the hall of Temple 
 College, where over fourteen hundred stu- 
 dents attend, and that college is connected 
 with a great church called the Baptist Temple, 
 which seats eight thousand people, and con- 
 nected with that church is a hospital for 
 children, called the Samaritan Hospital. 
 There is also a Sunday-school building there 
 which is so large that all the children who 
 want to attend can come and are gladly wel- 
 comed. 
 
 This is the story of little Hattie May Wiatt 
 and her fifty-seven pennies. Such a good 
 story does not need any sermon. 
 
XLV 
 
 A Little Prison Flower 
 
 This is the story of a little flower that 
 grew in a prison cell a long, long time ago. 
 It was a hundred years ago, and it happened 
 in France. One would think a flower would 
 not grow in a prison but it did, for this is a 
 true story and, I think, a very pretty one. 
 The Emperor of France at that time was the 
 great Napoleon, and he had a great many 
 friends and a great many enemies. He 
 placed in prison many people who were not 
 pleased at the way he did things, and left 
 them there to suffer and sometimes to die. 
 
 One of these men who was put in the 
 prison was a man whose name was Charney, 
 and I suppose the emperor soon forgot all 
 about him. He was a very wise man and a 
 good scholar, but he didn't believe in God, 
 and thought that God had forgotten all about 
 him and so he could forget about God. You 
 know when things go wrong with some peo- 
 ple, they think God doesn't care for them any 
 more. This man wrote on the walls of his 
 prison cell the words : ** All things come by 
 ii8 
 
A Little Prison Flower 1 19 
 
 chance." He couldn't see that there was any 
 God who cared for him, and so he thought 
 that everything just happened. 
 
 One day when he was walking up and 
 down in his cell, he saw a litde tiny, 
 green blade breaking through the ground. 
 The ground was hard, but the litde green 
 blade had broken the ground quite near the 
 wall and was trying to creep out into the 
 light. He was very much interested in it, be- 
 cause it was the only living thing around, and 
 he cared for it and watered it and by and by 
 it began to grow. It became his litde friend 
 and teacher, and he wondered how it came 
 there, and how it could be formed and made 
 so very beautiful. After a while a flower 
 came out, and it was white and purple and 
 rose-coloured with a beautiful white fringe. 
 The man began to think and think and 
 wonder, and after a while -thoughts of God 
 came into his heart and he rubbed the words 
 that he had written from the wall, and wrote 
 there instead these words : " He who made 
 all things is God." He felt happier after 
 that, and began to think that if God could 
 care for the litde flower in the prison cell and 
 make it so beautiful. He could care for him. 
 
 But that is not all of the story. There was 
 another prisoner in that great prison who had 
 
1 20 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 a little daughter who came often to see him. 
 The littie girl became acquainted with Char- 
 ney, and found out about his love for the lit- 
 tle flower, and each day when she came to 
 see her father she visited the flower and its 
 friend, and saw how kind he was to it. She 
 told the wife of the jailer, and the story be- 
 gan to be told from one to another and at 
 last it came to the ears of the emperor's 
 wife, who was one of the most beautiful 
 women in all the country. Her name was 
 Josephine. When she heard the story, she 
 said that surely the man who could so love a 
 little flower could not be a bad man, and she 
 persuaded Napoleon, the emperor, to allow 
 him to have his liberty. Do you think he 
 went home happy ? Do you think he went 
 home alone, or do you think he took the little 
 flower home with him ? Yes, he carried the 
 flower home with him and planted it in his 
 own garden, and cared for it very tenderly. 
 It was his little teacher, for it had taught 
 him to love God and to trust Him. I don't 
 wonder that the little flower was able to teach 
 the man about God. Jesus said : 
 
 " If God then so clothe the grass of the field, 
 which to-day is and to-morrow is cast into the 
 oven : shall He not much more clothe you, 
 oh, ye of little faith?'* 
 
/ 
 
 XLVI 
 
 The President and His Mother 
 
 I WONDER what you would be thinking 
 about if to-morrow you were to be made 
 President of the United States. I am going 
 to tell you a story of one of our great presi- 
 dents and what he thought about just before 
 he was inaugurated. 
 
 He lived near Cleveland, and a few days 
 before the great ceremony, he wrote to 
 his old mother and said, ** I want you to go 
 to Washington with me." She was very 
 much surprised, and after thinking it all over 
 wrote to her son, of whom she was very 
 proud, and said : " I cannot go to Washing- 
 ton- I would be quite out of place there 
 among the great people whom you will meet, 
 ril stay at home and pray for you." He 
 quickly sent back the answer, 'Til not go 
 without you," and so together they travelled 
 to the capital city. They went to the same 
 hotel, and when the time came for the cere- 
 mony, they went out together, his mother 
 leaning on his arm. They entered the car- 
 riage and drove to the Capitol, where a great 
 crowd of over a hundred thousand people 
 
 121 
 
122 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 was waiting. It was a gala occasion — the 
 high platform and all the celebrated men 
 from all over the country, governors, judges, 
 and ministers and the great sea of white faces 
 that were all turned to the one central place 
 where he was. The people noticed that in- 
 stead of taking the chair that was provided 
 for him, he gave it to his mother. Then he 
 delivered his inaugural address, and after he 
 had taken the oath to be true to his high of- 
 fice and before he sat down he turned and 
 put his arms around his mother and kissed 
 her. 
 
 I wonder if you know who he was ? He 
 was one of our martyred presidents. His 
 name was James A. Garfield. I think that 
 was one of the most beautiful things he ever 
 did, and I think all that great crowd of wait- 
 ing people, after the din was over and they 
 had gone to their own homes, thought so 
 too. You know our mothers do for us far 
 more than we can ever repay, and they are 
 more interested in our success than perhaps 
 we are ourselves. I hope none of you will 
 ever get too big, or too old, or go too far 
 away to forget your mother or to make her 
 happy in your own happiness, I think it 
 would be worth while to live in order to do 
 just that. 
 
XLVII 
 
 The Story of a Bell 
 
 What do you think of Grosslaswitz as a 
 name for a town ? Well, that is the name of 
 a little town far away in the north of Germany 
 which is interesting because of a bell that 
 hangs in the little church tower there. On 
 that bell there is engraved a six-eared stock 
 of corn and the date, October 15, 1729. 
 
 I want to tell you the story of that bell, for 
 it is very interesting and very helpful. The 
 old bell of the church could not be heard in 
 the village, and you know those were the 
 days when people were called to church by 
 the bell, rather than by the clock. So they 
 decided that they must have a new bell, but 
 they were all very poor and they didn't know 
 how they could give enough money to buy a 
 bell. Everybody ofTered to give a little, but 
 when they had put it all together it was not 
 nearly enough to buy the new bell. One 
 Sunday when he was going to church, the 
 schoolmaster saw growing out of the wall 
 of the churchyard a good, strong stock 
 123 
 
124 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 of corn. You know sometimes old walls 
 are decayed and have lots of earth about 
 them, and perhaps this seed of corn had been 
 dropped there by one of the birds. I know 
 of a little tree that is growing on the top of 
 a chimney in my mother's town in Scotland, 
 and it has been there for fifty years. He was 
 interested in the lonely corn-stalk, and began 
 to think how it came there and what it would 
 do. So every Sunday he watched it and 
 watched it, and saw that it was growing beau- 
 tifully and at last it had grown six well-formed 
 ears of corn on the stalk. So he gathered 
 them and put them away, and next year he 
 sowed the seed. Then he gathered it again, 
 and next year he sowed the seed. The next 
 year he did the same, and the following year 
 he had not enough room in his garden for all 
 the corn, so he divided it among his friends, 
 who went on sowing the corn until after 
 eight years they had a crop so big that when 
 it was sold they had enough money to buy 
 the bell. And so the bell was bought, and 
 the story of how it was secured was written 
 on the bell, in the way I have told you, and 
 also the date of the bell's birthday, October 
 
 15, 1729- 
 
 You can never guess how much can be 
 done through very little things. If you don't 
 
The Story of a Bell 125 
 
 know the verses about little things, I will tell 
 them to you, and that will be the sermon : 
 
 ** Little drops of water, 
 Little grains of sand. 
 Make the miglUy ocean, 
 And the pleasant land. 
 
 *< Thus the little moments. 
 Humble though they be, 
 Make the mighty ages 
 Of eternity. 
 
 " Thus our little errors 
 Lead the soul away. 
 From the path of virtue 
 Off in sin to stray. 
 
 *< Little deeds of kindness, 
 Little words of love, 
 Make our earth an Eden, 
 Like the heaven above." 
 
A Palace of Beautiful Deeds 
 
 I WANT to tell you a story that has a 
 beautiful lesson. It is not a really real story, 
 but is something like a fairy story, though 
 you know fairy stories, as well as true stories, 
 can teach many wonderful and helpful lessons. 
 
 There lived in India long, long ago a great 
 and very powerful king. He had lots and 
 lots of money, and planned to build some- 
 where in the mountains a beautiful palace — 
 more beautiful than any palace that was ever 
 built, so that when he died the people would 
 remember him and know that he must have 
 been a very great man. So he sent his 
 builder, whose name was Jakoob, and gave 
 him all the money that would be needed to 
 build this wonderful palace in the hills. Now, 
 Jakoob was a very good and kind-hearted 
 man, and when he came to the far-away 
 place where he was to build the king's palace, 
 he found the people of all that country with- 
 out food, and many of them had died and 
 many more were dying. So what do you 
 think he did ? Well, being a good man and 
 126 
 
A Palace of Beautiful Deeds 127 
 
 wanting to help these poor people, he spent 
 all his own money and all the money the 
 king had given him to build the great marble 
 castle in feeding the hungry and in caring 
 for the sick. By and by, the king came to 
 see how Jakoob was getting on with his work, 
 and found that not one stone had been laid 
 for the building. He could not understand 
 it, and when he found the builder he asked 
 him the reason for his strange conduct 
 Jakoob told him the story of the poor and 
 the sick and the hungry, and how he had fed 
 them and cared for them until all his money 
 was spent. The king was very, very angry, 
 and said to him, ** To-morrow thou shalt 
 die," and he struck him with his sword and 
 cast him into a dark prison. As he lay on 
 his bed that night, the king dreamed a dream. 
 You know God sometimes speaks to people 
 in dreams, and that very night the king 
 dreamed that he went to heaven, and they 
 showed him there the most beautiful palace 
 — oh, the most beautiful palace he had ever 
 seen. It was far more beautiful than the 
 palace that he had planned to build in the 
 mountains. He asked the angels whose 
 this palace was, and how it came to be 
 there, and how it came to be so beautiful. 
 So the angels said, "This is the beautiful 
 
128 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 palace of beautiful deeds which was built for 
 you by Jakoob, the wise builder. After all 
 the buildings of earth have been destroyed, 
 this one shall still be beautiful." Then the 
 king understood that his servant had done 
 far better with his money than he himself had 
 planned. 
 
 You know Jesus Himself told us to lay 
 up treasures in heaven, and this was what 
 the angels meant when they showed the 
 king how the good deeds done by his servant 
 in healing the sick and in feeding the hungry 
 and in caring for the poor, had prepared for 
 him a far more beautiful palace than could 
 have been made of silver or gold. 
 
XLIX 
 « I Gave Gold For Iron " 
 
 This is a German story. It is a story 
 about Frederick William III, the King of 
 Prussia. It seems as if all the emperors of 
 Germany were called either William or 
 Frederick, or both names together. 
 
 Frederick William III was trying to make 
 a great nation out of his country, and was 
 carrying on great wars but hadn't enough 
 money to do what he wanted to do. So he 
 sat down to think how he could get money 
 enough to carry out his plans. He could not 
 stop, for if he did the enemy would soon come 
 into his country, and that would mean greater 
 distress than ever. What do you think he 
 did ? Well, he asked all the women in his 
 country to help him. You say, ** Well, what 
 could the women do? They couldn't ride 
 horses, and fire pistols and load cannon and 
 go out to war." No, perhaps they couldn't 
 do any of those things, but I'll tell you 
 what they did. They brought their jewelry 
 and their ornaments, their gold and their 
 silver, and the king had all that they br ught 
 129 
 
130 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 melted and made into money. The king 
 gave in return to each of the women who 
 brought her jewelry to him a little ornament 
 of brass or iron just like the gold or silver 
 one that had been given to him. These 
 brass and iron ornaments had written upon 
 them the words: "I Gave Gold For Iron, 
 
 1813." 
 
 Don't you think that was a nice thing for 
 women to do for their king? After a time 
 the war came to an end and the women got 
 other pieces of jewelry and ornaments, but 
 as the years went by, these little iron orna- 
 ments, which the king had given them, were 
 more and more prized, and it became very 
 fashionable for those who had them to wear 
 them. It was like wearing a medal which 
 had been won for some great deed of valour, 
 and in time it came to pass that there grew 
 up in Germany what is called " The Order of 
 the Iron Cross," the members of which wear 
 no ornament except a cross of iron and give 
 all the money they can spare to the help of 
 others who are in great need. 
 
 I think that is a very beautiful story, but I 
 know a still more wonderful story than that. 
 It's about Jesus, our King. We did not give 
 Him the gold and the silver, but we gave 
 Him the brass and the iron, and He gave us 
 
" I Gave Gold For Iron " 131 
 
 gold in return. We belong to " The Order of 
 the Golden Cross," and we wear the orna- 
 ment of the new life, which says, "I Gave 
 Iron For Gold." To every boy and girl who 
 gives up a poor, little, sinful life to the Lord 
 Jesus, He gives back the great Golden Glory 
 of His own wonderful Love, and that is the 
 story that we love to tell : 
 
 " I love to tell the story, 
 Of unseen things above, 
 Of Jesus and His Glory, 
 Of Jesus and His Love." 
 
A Blacksmith's Boy 
 
 It happened in the time of the Revolution- 
 ary War a long, long time ago. If it hadn't 
 gotten into the papers and then into books, 
 no one would ever have remembered it. It 
 happened during the war that we celebrate 
 on the Fourth of July — the War of Independ- 
 ence. 
 
 This boy about whom I want to tell you 
 was a blacksmith's boy, a poor, lame boy who 
 was very unhappy and very sad because he 
 could not go off to the war. His companions 
 had gone and he alone was left. He stood at 
 the door of the blacksmith shop, and wondered 
 what he was good for, with his lame foot and 
 his poor crippled body. As he was standing 
 there some soldiers rode up to the shop in a 
 great hurry, and wanted to know if there 
 was any one around who could put a shoe on 
 a horse's foot. Luke, for that was the boy's 
 name, quickly said : " I think I can." He 
 had often helped his father shoe horses, and 
 in a little while he had the shoe properly 
 fixed on the horse* s foot. When it was all 
 132 
 
A Blacksmith's Boy 133 
 
 done and the men were ready to ride away, one 
 of the men who was the leader said : " Boy, 
 no ten men who have gone out to the war 
 could have served their country as well as 
 you have done to-day." If you take down 
 your history you can read about Colonel 
 Warner, who rode up just in time to save the 
 Battle of Bennington, and then you can re- 
 member that it was his horse that the lame 
 boy, Luke Varnum, shod that day when he 
 WcLS so unhappy because he too could not go 
 to the war. If Colonel Warner's horse had 
 not been shod that morning, a battle might 
 have been lost. 
 
 You know there's a little jingle that we all 
 say sometimes : 
 
 For want of the nail, the shoe was lost, 
 For want of the shoe, the horse was lost, 
 For want of the horse, the rider was lost, 
 For want of the rider, the battle was lost, 
 For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost, 
 And all for the want of a horse's shoe nail. 
 
 Let us do the very little things that we can 
 do, for without the little things the great 
 things cannot be done. Perhaps there is 
 something that God Himself will not be able 
 to do unless some little boy does his part, 
 and does it well. 
 
u 
 
 Keeping the Sabbath 
 
 I WONDER how many boys and girls think 
 Sunday is the best day of the week ? I won- 
 der if there are any boys and girls who don't 
 like when Sunday comes because they can- 
 not do some of the things they do on other 
 days? Sunday ought to be the happiest, 
 sweetest day of all the week, and yet I 
 think it ought not to be like other days 
 We ought not to read the same things we 
 read on other days, or do the same things we 
 do on other days, or sing the same songs we 
 sing on other days, or play the same games 
 we play on other days. I think it is good 
 for us to make it a special day. Perhaps if 
 you ask your fathers and mothers, they will 
 tell you that in their day Sunday was a very 
 dull day, and if you could ask your grand- 
 fathers and grandmothers, and great-grand- 
 fathers and great-grandmothers, and great- 
 great-grandfathers and great- great-grand- 
 mothers and great-great-great-grandfathers 
 and great-great-great-grandmothers, perhaps 
 they would tell you that Sunday was very, very 
 dull for them when they were boys and girls. 
 134 
 
Keeping the Sabbath 135 
 
 The other day I came across some of the 
 old laws about keeping the Sabbath and 
 some other things, and perhaps you will feel 
 when you read them that Sunday now is not 
 the same as it used to be and that boys and 
 girls have an easier time at Sunday-school 
 and day-school than our great-great-great- 
 great-grandfathers and grandmothers had. 
 Here are some of those old laws : 
 
 "If a boy shall sing or whistle on the 
 Lord's Day, it is a fine of ten cents. 
 
 " If a boy shall throw a stone and break a 
 window, it is a fine of nine cents. 
 
 " If a boy shall chase a girl, it is a fine of 
 six cents. 
 
 " If a boy shall go to sleep in church, it is 
 a fine of three cents, and the warden may 
 cane him. 
 
 ** If a boy shall throw stones at a neigh- 
 bour's dog, it is a fine of five cents, and his 
 father shall whip him. 
 
 "If a boy steal apples or other fruit, his 
 parents must pay twice the value thereof, 
 and he may be sent to jail for two days." 
 
 Whenever you think you are not treated 
 right and have a hard time, think about the 
 poor little boys and girls of those far-away 
 days, in New England. 
 
LII / 
 
 / 
 
 She Saw the King ^ 
 
 Did any of you ever see a real king? 
 Not that kings are different from other peo- 
 ple, but because they are kings we like to 
 see them and are interested in them. Once 
 I saw a real king — ^just once. I stood one 
 day on a street corner in London, and saw 
 King Edward VII pass along the street in 
 his motor car. Many people didn't know 
 who he was, and in a little while he was 
 gone. Everybody wants to see a king, and 
 especially his own people who honour him 
 and love him. 
 
 I want to tell you how a poor woman once 
 saw her king. Her king is the King of Italy. 
 His name is Victor Emmanuel III. When 
 the great earthquake happened in Southern 
 Italy, he went to help the wounded and to 
 care for the hungry and because of his kind- 
 ness all the people love him and delight in 
 him. When he came to his summer home 
 at Racconigi, the people left their work and 
 their houses and farms and vineyards to see 
 him. At one of the farms everybody had 
 136 
 
She Saw the King 137 
 
 gone but one woman, who stayed at home to 
 take care of the house and to milk the cows. 
 If any of you have Uved on a farm, you 
 will know what that means. While she was 
 milking, a man came to her from over the 
 fields and asked her for a drink of milk. He 
 had been walking and was tired and very 
 thirsty. The woman knew that very few 
 people like fresh, new, warm milk, and so she 
 said, *' Wait a moment until I go into the 
 house and get for you some milk that is cool 
 and sweet." She returned with her gift of 
 milk and cake for the stranger. " How is 
 it," he asked, " that you are here all alone ? " 
 She was afraid just for a minute, but his 
 smile satisfied her and she told him that her 
 husband and children and the workers had 
 gone to see the king. She did not under- 
 stand why he laughed, but he laughed such 
 a merry laugh that she knew he was pleased 
 about something. " Gone to see the king," 
 he said. *' Well, not one of them will see him 
 to-day." ** And why not?" said the woman. 
 " Because," said the stranger, " he is not 
 there, for he is here." The woman thought 
 he was joking, but when he put a gold coin 
 into her hand she knew he was no beggar, 
 and when he removed his hat to say " Thank 
 you " she recognized his face and knew that 
 
138 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 he was her king. Before she could say any- 
 thing he was gone, but she had seen the 
 king and was satisfied. 
 
 We, too, have a King. His name is Jesus. 
 There is not one of us but would go hun- 
 dreds of miles to look into His face, but I am 
 wondering if we would know Him should we 
 meet Him. The people that day in Italy 
 thought their king was to be seen in the 
 palace among the nobles and the great men 
 of the nation, but he was out in the field 
 alone on* the farm, asking for a drink of milk. 
 We, too, think that our King is far away in 
 heaven, and perhaps ,some of us think He is 
 on a throne in the city of gold, but He is not 
 there — He is here — among the poor and the 
 rich and the sick and the strong, and the lit- 
 tle children, and the men and the women, 
 who are hard at work in the battle of life, 
 and when we do anything for them, we do it 
 for Him. Be sure you don't miss Him when 
 He comes. When He came to Bethlehem on 
 that first Christmas morning, there was no 
 room for Him. No one knew Him, and no 
 one understood. 
 
un y 
 
 What is Love ? 
 
 Here is a real Sunday-school story. The 
 teacher was trying to tell the children about 
 Jesus and of His love for them and their love 
 for Him, and like a good, sensible teacher — 
 just like one of our own Fullerton Avenue 
 Sunday-school teachers — she was anxious to 
 go behind the empty words and get at their 
 real meaning. So she asked some simple but 
 hard questions : ** What does it mean for us to 
 love Jesus ? How can we love Him when we 
 cannot see Him ? How do we love anybody ? 
 What is love?" Now, you know those are 
 hard questions. Some of our young men 
 and young women, and some of our old 
 bachelors, and even some of our married 
 men and women could not give a very satis- 
 factory answer to the question as to what 
 love is. They might go to the dictionary and 
 find that it was some ** affection of the heart," 
 but, goodness me, that is not love. Again, 
 the teacher asked, ** What do we do when we 
 love somebody real well ? " They were very 
 little children, and they were all quite puzzled 
 and were unable to answer even that simple 
 139 
 
140 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 question, until one little lady about six years 
 old, without saying anything, rose from her 
 seat and put her arms around her teacher's 
 neck, and kissing her, said : "That's what I 
 call love." Well, the teacher thought so too, 
 but she was a very wise teacher, and said : 
 " Is there any other way to love people ? " 
 " Oh, yes,'* said the little girl, who had now 
 gained confidence and had forgotten about 
 herself. Then she began to put the chairs in 
 order and to gather up the books and the 
 papers and to put them neatly in their places. 
 " We love people," she said, " by helping 
 them." " Yes," said the teacher, " and which 
 way do you think is the best way?" The 
 teacher, who was very wise, said that both 
 ways were good and that we could love 
 Jesus in those two ways. We could tell Him 
 that we love Him, and we do that when 
 we pray, and when we sing, " My Jesus, I 
 Love Thee," "I Love to Tell the Story," 
 "There's a Friend for Litde Children," or 
 any of our beautiful hymns that speak of the 
 love of Jesus for us and of our love for Him. 
 Then, we can do more than tell Him of our 
 love : we can show our love for Him by do- 
 ing the things He wishes us to do. For if 
 we love Him, we will keep His command- 
 ments. 
 
LIV 
 
 Only One Door 
 
 How many of you ever heard of Isaac 
 Newton — Sir Isaac Newton ? He lived about 
 two hundred years ago, and was a very, 
 very learned man. He told the world how 
 the stars and the sun and the moon and the 
 earth and the planets hang together, and circle 
 around through the heavens. He found out 
 his great secret, we are told, when he was 
 sitting under an apple tree one day and saw 
 an apple fall from the tree to the ground. He 
 thought about it and thought about it and 
 thought about it, and wondered and won- 
 dered and wondered, until at last he thought 
 out some great things about God and His 
 world. 
 
 But, although he was very wise and very 
 great, he was sometimes very, very foolish. 
 The wisest men are often the most foolish. 
 They say that he had two cats, or rather one 
 mother cat and a dear little kitten. He was 
 very fond of them, and they used to come to 
 the door of his study and meow-meow- 
 meow, and scratch and call until he would 
 141 
 
142 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 rise and open the door and let them in. He 
 grew tired of always being disturbed, and so 
 he called a man and told him to have two 
 holes cut in the door, one for the mother cat 
 and a smaller one for the dear little kitten. 
 Do you see how foolish he was ? And you 
 don't wonder, do you, that the carpenter 
 laughed and told the great man that the cat 
 and the kitten could both go in through the 
 same hole ? Of course, where the cat could 
 go the kitten could follow, and so the one 
 opening was made and the cat and the kitten 
 and the great man were all happy. 
 
 There is only one door into the kingdom 
 of heaven, just one. Jesus said, **I am the 
 Door." Some wise people are foolish 
 enough to think there is more than one. 
 They don't say so, perhaps, but they act as 
 if they believed that there was one door for 
 the rich and another for the poor, one for the 
 black man and one for the white man, one 
 for the good and one for the very bad, but 
 there is just one door. "By Me," said 
 Jesus, **if any man enter in, he shall be 
 saved." And this is the strange thing about 
 it : the big door was needed for the cat and 
 the kitten, but into the kingdom of heaven 
 only the small one is needed. Listen to this : 
 ** Except ye be converted and become as little 
 
Only One Door 143 
 
 children, ye cannot enter into the kingdom 
 of heaven." A big man can only go in by 
 getting down on his knees. A litde child can 
 enter in just as he is. It is so much easier to 
 be a Christian when one is young. 
 
 ** Early let us seek Thy favour, 
 
 Early let us do Thy will ; 
 Blessed Lord and only Saviour, 
 
 With Thy love our bosoms fill ; 
 Blessed Jesus, Thou hast loved us, 
 
 Love us still." 
 
LV 
 
 God's Love for Us 
 
 You never know what little children are 
 going to say. The other day I asked my 
 own little girl, half-teasingly, whom she loved 
 best, expecting, of course, that she would 
 flatter me with her choice, but she surprised 
 me very delightfully by saying, " I love Jesus 
 best." 
 
 A little girl of whom I was reading, and 
 who also was being teased about her prefer- 
 ence, was asked by her father how much she 
 loved him. She put her arms around his neck, 
 and said : ** I love you up to the sky and 
 along to the end of the world, and then down 
 again." I have not forgotten her words 
 about her great love, and have often thought 
 about them. Her way of telling her love 
 sounds like the story of God's great love for 
 us, only it is just a little different. God's 
 love for us was down from the sky and along 
 to the end of the world, and then back again. 
 Is it not so ? Is not that the story of the life 
 and love of Jesus, who left His wonderful 
 Glory-world and came into our world of sin 
 144 
 
God's Love for Us 14^ 
 
 and darkness, and loved us and lived for us 
 and died for us and carried us back in His 
 own great heart to God and heaven ? 
 
 •* Oh ! 'Twas love, 'twas wondrous love, 
 The love of God to me ; 
 That sent my Saviour from above 
 To die on Calvary." 
 
LVI 
 
 Good Money, but No Good 
 
 The other day I had to do some buying 
 from the United States government. I 
 wonder how many of you know that the 
 United States keeps a store and sells things? 
 I wanted to buy a book — not a very big book 
 — just a little booklet, and so I wrote about 
 it and they sent back a letter that had no 
 stamp on it. What do you think of that ? 
 A letter that had no stamp on it, and the letter 
 told me how much money to send and how 
 to send it, and what kind of money. 
 
 What kind of money? Why, United 
 States money, of course. I was to send 
 no German money, and no English money, 
 and no French money, and no Chinese 
 money, and no checks, but just good, plain 
 American money. They also told me that I 
 was not to send them any United States 
 stamps. That seemed very queer to me, for 
 stamps are just as good as money, and one 
 would think that a United States store would 
 take United States stamps. Even after they 
 had said all that, they told me that I was to 
 146 
 
Good Money, but No Good 147 
 
 send them no ** smooth " money, or, as they 
 put it, no money that had been handled until 
 it was " slick," that is, until the figures and 
 the face were worn off. 
 
 I thought that was very strange. Why 
 would the United States not take its very 
 own money ? Why would it not honour its 
 own gold ? Is not that strange ? It expects 
 other people to use its old dimes and nickels 
 and quarters, but it won't have anything 
 to do with them itself. I do not under- 
 stand that. I should think it would be just 
 the thing, to have the people send in their 
 old money so that it might be melted over 
 and made into bright new coin. But no, 
 they said that old money "positively will 
 not be accepted.'' Since I got that letter, 
 I have been thinking a good deal about it. 
 That is not the way God does with the things 
 He makes. When they are old and broken 
 and spoiled, God makes them over again. 
 The Bible tells us that He made us in His 
 own image. The United States puts its 
 stamp upon its money, and God puts His 
 stamp upon our souls. We are made like 
 Him — pure, and holy, and immortal. Of 
 course, we do with our lives just as we do 
 with our money. We wear off the brightness 
 and we destroy the image. But it does not 
 
148 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 matter how shapeless, or how defaced our 
 lives may be, God will take them if we will 
 give them to Him, and He will make them 
 over again, pure and bright and beautiful. 
 Jesus came to make the souls of men whole 
 again. That's what the Gospel means. It's 
 good news. That's why they call His name 
 Jesus, because He came to save His people 
 and to make all things new again. Did you 
 ever think of the ** new " things Jesus prom- 
 ises to give us ? Here are some of them : He 
 will put a new song in our mouth. He will 
 give us a new name. He will make with us 
 a new covenant. He will put within us a new 
 spirit. He will give us a new heart and a 
 new commandment. He will open for our 
 feet a new and a living way. Indeed, He 
 will make a new heaven and a new earth, 
 and will make us new creatures. 
 
LVII 
 
 The Little Missionary 
 
 His name was Jhwain. He was the son 
 of a wicked Chinaman. His father's name 
 was Jhwain Das. They lived together in 
 China, and the father was a highwayman, 
 and a thief, and a robber, and a very bad 
 man. It happened that little Jhwain went to 
 the mission station, and there he learned to 
 read. His father wanted him to read, but 
 cared nothing at all about the Gospel, or 
 about missionaries. Yes, he did care — he 
 cared enough to steal from them and rob 
 them, and one night out in the darkness away 
 from the city he caught the missionary teacher 
 and robbed him of his money and his clothes 
 and the books he was carrying, and took 
 them all home and hid them away. The 
 books were forgotten for a long while, until 
 one day the little boy wanted something 
 more to read, and the father remembered the 
 stolen books and went and brought one of 
 them. The little fellow opened it, and it 
 happened to be a Bible. Indeed, all the 
 books that were stolen were Bibles. Don't 
 149 
 
150 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 you think those were strange things to steal ? 
 People do steal Bibles, though. I preached 
 in a church once where the pulpit Bible was 
 stolen, and we never were able to find out 
 who was the thief. I hope he will read it, 
 and perhaps learn to do better. So it hap- 
 pened with the father of little Jhwain. The 
 boy opened the book, and the first place he 
 read was over in Numbers, at the thirty-sec- 
 ond chapter. He read the words we all 
 know, " Be sure your sin will find you out." 
 When the father heard them, he was afraid 
 and trembled and told the boy not to read 
 any more. When he was alone, the robber 
 opened the book again and it opened at the 
 same place. You know how books have a 
 habit of always opening at the same place. 
 He was very much afraid, and closed 
 the book and put it away. The next day he 
 opened it again, but made sure that it did 
 not open at the same place. This time i^. 
 opened not in the Old Testament, but in the 
 New Testament, and there he read about 
 Jesus, who came to save from sin. He read 
 the story again and again, and at last went 
 with all the stolen things to the mission and 
 confessed his sin, and there he found help and 
 forgiveness. For many days he went with 
 his little boy and learned about the Gospel 
 
The Little Missionary 151 
 
 and about the heavenly Father, and at last 
 was baptized and became a preacher to his 
 own people. He died only a few weeks ago, 
 and the wonderful story of his life was told 
 in the missionary papers. He was a mem- 
 ber of the Methodist Mission at Badaon, and 
 all who knew him learned to love and trust 
 him. 
 
 There are two things about this story that 
 make up the sermon. The first is about the 
 wonderful way God uses a little child to lead 
 fathers into the kingdom of God. The 
 Bible says " a little child shall lead them," 
 and boys and girls ought to remember that 
 they are in their own way the best ministers 
 and missionaries that God has. The second 
 thing is that when we read the Bible, you 
 and I should always read the Old Testament 
 and the New Testament together. The Old 
 Testament tells us about sin, and the New 
 Testament tells us about salvation. The Old 
 Testament says, " Be sure your sin will find 
 you out " : the New Testament tells us the 
 same thing, but tells us that His name is 
 called Jesus because He saves His people 
 from their sins. 
 
LVIII 
 
 The Little Peacemaker V 
 
 Her name was Louise, and she was just 
 as pretty and just as sweet as the sweet and 
 beautiful queen who had the same name. 
 One evening, after she had been washed and 
 dressed and had said her prayer and been 
 tucked into bed and been kissed by her 
 mother, just as all sweet and beautiful little 
 girls and boys are, no matter what their 
 names, she said : " I was a peacemaker to- 
 day, mamma." '*A what, dear?" said her 
 mother, who had never heard her use that 
 big word before. " A peacemaker," said 
 Louise. ** You know what that means, 
 mamma, don't you? It means a peace- 
 maker, just a peacemaker, you know." 
 " But how were you a peacemaker, Louise ? 
 I didn't know you were where there was any 
 quarrelling. You know I don't like you to 
 be with children who fight and quarrel and 
 are naughty." " Oh I It was not anything 
 like that," said Louise. " It was just that I 
 knew something and didn't tell it." Then, 
 of course, her mother knew that her little 
 152 
 
The Little Peacemaker 153 
 
 daughter had heard some mean, naughty, 
 ugly story about one of her little friends and 
 had kept it to herself and told no one. Her 
 mother, I feel sure, kissed her a second time 
 and whispered in her ear those words of 
 Jesus about the peacemakers: '* Blessed are 
 the peacemakers, for they shall be called the 
 children of God." In this same beautiful 
 way, you and I, like little Louise, can be 
 peacemakers. We can stop bad stories by 
 not telling them. We can kill bad thoughts 
 by not thinking them. We can bury bad 
 feelings by hiding them away out of sight. 
 We can be silent about the bad, and think 
 and speak and feel only about the good. 
 
 ** Somebody did a golden deed : 
 Somebody proved a friend in need : 
 Somebody sang a beautiful song : 
 Somebody smiled the whole day long : 
 Somebody thought ' 'tis sweet to live ' : 
 Somebody said, < I'm glad to give ' : 
 Somebody fought a brave, good fight : 
 Somebody loved to help the right ; 
 Was that somebody you ? " 
 
LIX 
 
 y 
 
 Bobbie Higgins 
 
 He was a cripple boy. Bobbie Higgins 
 was his name. He lived with his mother in 
 one of the larger towns of Ohio, and every- 
 body knew him. Not very long ago Dr. 
 Chapman and Mr. Alexander were holding 
 meetings in that town, and Bobbie became 
 interested. He liked the bright music and 
 the bright lights, and every night he was 
 there on the front seat. He went to church 
 more that week than he had ever gone be- 
 fore in his life, for he just knocked about the 
 streets and inquired into everything that was 
 going on, and knew everything that had 
 happened, or that was going to happen. 
 
 One night something happened that he 
 did not expect. It happened so strangely, 
 and so quickly and so silently that Bobbie 
 Higgins was the most surprised boy in the 
 world after he knew about it. What do you 
 think happened? Let me tell you. The 
 dear Lord Jesus came into his heart, and so 
 loved him and so won him that little crippled 
 154 
 
Bobbie Higgins 155 
 
 Bobbie Higgins became a firm friend of Jesus 
 and was glad to call himself a Christian. 
 
 You know that when a boy loves Jesus and 
 calls himself a Christian and is a friend of 
 Jesus, there are some things he used to do 
 which he does not want to do again, and 
 Bobbie Higgins found that out. Next Sun- 
 day there was to be a baseball game in the 
 town, and of course Bobbie had planned to 
 go. He had arranged to go before Jesus and 
 he became friends. Sunday came, and great 
 crowds went to the ball ground, and the 
 street-cars were crowded with men and 
 women coming home from the game. They 
 were talking and laughing and noisy, and 
 had forgotten all about it being God's holy 
 day. At one of the corners Bobbie Higgins 
 got on the car, and the conductor, who knew 
 him, called out to him, " Well, Bobbie, what 
 was the score? " Bobbie answered up in his 
 usual bright, happy manner, " Five to two, 
 but I wasn't there. You know I'm a Chris- 
 tian now." The men did not talk quite so 
 loud, and the women did not laugh so much 
 after that, and one or two heard the con- 
 ductor, when he took Bobbie's nickel, say to 
 him : " Stick to it, Bobbie, and you will be 
 better for it." What a sermon Bobbie 
 Higgins preached that Sunday afternoon in 
 
1 56 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 the street-cars in that Ohio city of Dayton I 
 I wish I could preach like that. I wish I had 
 a hundred boys in my church who could 
 preach like that. It puts some of us men to 
 shame when a little cripple boy is not ashamed 
 to tell a crowded street-car that he is a Chris- 
 tian. We take off our hats to him, and give 
 three cheers for Bobbie Higgins. 
 
LX 
 The Picture That Is To Be 
 
 William Merritt Chase— that's his 
 name. None of you know him perhaps. 
 He is not a boy ; he is a man, and he lives 
 in New York City. He is a great painter, 
 one of the great painters of the world. He 
 has painted some wonderful pictures, and 
 every one is interested in men and women, 
 and boys and girls who can do wonderful 
 things. 
 
 One day a friend was in his studio, and 
 was looking around at the many beautiful 
 paintings that were there and his curiosity 
 got the better of him. People say that only 
 little boys and big girls are filled with curios- 
 ity, but I know lots of little women and big 
 men who are just as curious as Helen's 
 Babies ever were. They were the children, 
 you know, who always wanted *' to see the 
 wheels go 'round." This friend — a grown-up 
 man — was curious, and asked Mr. Chase 
 which of all the paintings he had finished was 
 the best. The great painter took his friend 
 to the other side of the room and showed him 
 157 
 
158 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 a large piece of white canvas stretched in a 
 beautiful frame, and said : " That is my best 
 work." What do you think he meant? 
 There was no picture there. No brush had 
 ever touched that white canvas, but his 
 friend understood, and I am sure you under- 
 stand. The great artist meant that the 
 picture which was to be, but was not yet 
 painted, which was in his heart and mind and 
 was seen only as a beautiful image, but which 
 one day would be put upon the canvas, 
 would be his masterpiece. Turning to his 
 friend, he said, *' I am sorry I cannot show 
 you that picture. I am always trying, but it 
 still creeps ahead of me. I have painted 
 it there in my mind a thousand times, and 
 some day perhaps I will be able to paint it as 
 I see it." 
 
 All of us, and especially the boys and girls, 
 ought to have always before us this unpainted 
 white canvas upon which we expect to put 
 our very best. It was a great, good man, 
 Robert Browning, who said : 
 
 ** Grow old along with me, 
 The best is yet to be ; 
 The last of life for which the first was made." 
 
 Life's best always ought to be in the future, 
 for God and heaven lie on before us. The 
 
The Picture That Is To Be 159 
 
 white canvas and the new page always call 
 for the best we have. Boys and girls who 
 are now painting and writing on the white 
 canvas and the white paper of their first 
 years, ought to be careful that they put there 
 only their very best. It was another great, 
 good man, James Russell Lowell, who said : 
 
 ** Life is a sheet of paper white, 
 Whereon each one of us may write 
 His word or two, and then comes night ; 
 Though thou have time 
 But for a line — be that sublime. 
 Not failure, but low aim is crime." 
 
LXI 
 The Prince and His Garden 
 
 This is a fairy story, but I think it is true. 
 You know I told you once that fairy stories 
 are the truest kind of stories, for they tell us 
 of the things that really are and of the things 
 that ought to be. This story is about a beau- 
 tiful prince who lived in a most wonderful 
 palace, near which was the largest and most 
 beautiful garden that was ever seen. One 
 day, as he was walking through the garden, 
 he came to the orange trees, and looking up 
 into their blossoming branches, he said : 
 " Orange trees, what are you doing for your 
 prince ? '^ ** Oh," said the orange trees, ** we 
 are blooming as beautifully as we can for our 
 prince, and by and by when our blossoms 
 have budded and our fruit is ripe, it will be 
 carried into the palace for the prince's table." 
 "My blessing upon the orange trees," said 
 the prince. Coming to the great, spreading 
 chestnut trees and looking up into their wav- 
 ing branches, the prince said : " Chestnut 
 trees, what are you doing for your prince ? " 
 "Oh," said the chestnut trees, "when the 
 1 60 
 
The Prince and His Garden 161 
 
 days are warm and the sun is hot, we spread 
 out our branches and our great fan-Hke 
 leaves, and under them your cattle and sheep 
 have shade and shelter." " My blessing upon 
 the chestnut trees," said the prince. Walk- 
 ing out into the meadow, the prince looked 
 down into the luscious grass, and said: 
 ** Meadow grass, what are you doing for your 
 prince?" **Oh," said the meadow grass, 
 ** I am growing greener and sweeter, and 
 some day your men will come with their 
 sharp sickles and will cut me down close to 
 the ground, and I will be carried away into 
 your stables for the beautiful horses that draw 
 the royal carriages." " My blessing upon 
 the meadow grass," said the prince. As he 
 turned to go, he saw looking up through the 
 meadow grass a tiny little white daisy, and 
 stooping to look into its pale, white face, the 
 prince said : " Little daisy, what are you doing 
 for your prince ? " Then the little meadow 
 daisy hung its head low, and whispered : 
 ** Nothing, nothing, nothing, at all. I can- 
 not give fruit for the prince's table, or shade 
 for the prince's cattle, or food for the prince's 
 horses. I am only a little meadow flower, 
 and they don't want me in the grass, or in 
 the field. All I can do is to be the best litde 
 daisy possible, and that is all." When the 
 
l62 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 prince heard these beautiful words, he knelt 
 down in the meadow grass and kissed the 
 little flower, and said : " My best blessing 
 upon the little daisy, for in all the garden 
 there is nothing that is better than it." 
 
 We, too, have a Prince who visits His 
 garden and goes about from one to another, 
 from fathers and mothers, and brothers and 
 sisters, and neighbours and friends, and boys 
 and girls — big boys and big girls, and little 
 boys and little girls, — and asks each one 
 what he is doing for his Prince. I feel sure I 
 know which He Hkes best. I think He does 
 just what the beautiful prince in the story 
 did. He stoops down and kisses the faces of 
 the children who are doing nothing but 
 smiling and being sweet and happy and 
 humble all day long, and He says : " In all 
 My garden there is none sweeter than a little 
 child." Jesus loves the children best of all. 
 
 ** A dreary place would be this earth, 
 Were there no little people in it ; 
 The song of life would lose its mirth, 
 Were there no children to begin it." 
 
LXII 
 
 A Wise Little Girl ^ 
 
 I WANT you to listen to this story very care- 
 fully. It is hardly a story, and it is scarcely 
 a sermon. I hardly know what to call it, and 
 for want of a name I will not call it anything, 
 but will just tell it to you. But before I tell 
 it, I want to ask you a question. How many 
 of you boys and girls have been told that God 
 loves you when you are good ? Yes, all of 
 you have been told that, and of course that is 
 true. God loves us when we are kind and 
 good and true ; but what about the days and 
 the hours and the minutes when we are not 
 good and kind and true ? Does God love us 
 then ? Now, this is the story : A little girl 
 about six years old, after she had said her 
 own little prayer — the same prayer that she 
 had said over and over again until she could 
 say it after her eyes had closed and she was 
 nearly off into the land of dreams and de- 
 lights — was told by her mother one night 
 that she might say anything she wished to 
 God, and might make up a prayer of her 
 own if she wished. So the next night, after 
 163 
 
164 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 she had said her prayer, her mother was sur- 
 prised to hear her say, — even after she had 
 said the Amen, " Dear Jesus, love me when 
 Vm naughty." Don't you think that was a 
 strange thing for her to say ? Some of you 
 are smiling about it, and yet was she not a 
 wise little girl, and don't you think her new 
 prayer was the very best prayer possible ? 
 
 Our fathers and mothers do not stop lov- 
 ing us when we are naughty, and God loves 
 us better than any one in all the world could 
 love us. I think if I were to repeat it to you, 
 you would know the meaning of the wonder- 
 ful verse in the Bible that says, ** While we 
 were yet sinners Christ died for us." I think 
 you understand it, and it tells you better than 
 I could ever hope to tell you that God al- 
 ways loves us, when we are bad and when 
 we are good. Of course. He does not love 
 us because we are bad, but He loves us just 
 because He does love us, and when we love 
 Him we will try to live so that we will be well 
 pleasing in His sight. There is music in the 
 words, and I know you will understand them, 
 at least the last two lines : 
 
 ** I know not where His islands lift 
 Their fronded palms in air ; 
 I only know I cannot drift 
 Beyond His love and care.** 
 
LXIII //^ 
 
 Sweeter Than Honey 
 
 Away over in Egypt when men dig in 
 the ground, they often discover very strange 
 and interesting things. Many, many years 
 ago there were great cities and buildings and 
 palaces in Egypt, which are there no longer. 
 You know cities and palaces and temples and 
 towers die like people and perish, and are 
 buried in the ground and forgotten, and now 
 when men dig down deep they sometimes 
 find those old cities and temples and houses 
 and books and furniture. Not long ago some 
 men were digging in one of these old buried 
 cities, and in a tomb away down in the 
 ground they found a sealed jar — a stone jar. 
 It was quite heavy, and the workmen knew 
 there must be something in it, and there was. 
 What do you suppose was in it ? Water ? 
 No. Milk? No. Oil? No. Vinegar? 
 No. Molasses? No. Honey? Yes — pure, 
 sweet, beautiful honey, as pure and as sweet 
 as the day it was made by the Egyptian bees 
 165 
 
i66 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 four thousand years ago. Think of that — foul 
 thousand years ago. Is that not wonderful ? 
 It had kept pure and sweet and beautiful in 
 its deep, dark home for four thousand long 
 years ! 
 
 There are other things that keep their 
 sweetness and purity and freshness just like 
 honey. Listen ; God says in the Bible that 
 His law and His words are ** sweeter than 
 honey and the honeycomb," and we know 
 that this is true. Did you ever hear a sweeter 
 word or one that has kept its sweetness 
 longer than this, " The Lord is my Shepherd, 
 I shall not want " ? And, then too, God also 
 tells us in the Bible that ** pleasant words are 
 as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul." We 
 do not wonder that God's words are sweet 
 like honey, but we are surprised into delight 
 to think He would say that our words may 
 be so sweet and pleasant, so helpful and lov- 
 ing, that they too like honey will keep for 
 years and years. Let us try to speak 
 such beautiful words that long, long after- 
 wards in the hearts of those to whom 
 they are spoken they may be found again. 
 Perhaps you know the verses about the arrow 
 and the song. They were written by Long- 
 fellow. Every boy and girl ought to know 
 them and remember them. Here they are : 
 
Sweeter Than Honey 167 
 
 " I shot an arrow into the air, 
 
 It fell to earth I knew not where ; 
 For so swiftly it flew, the sight 
 Could not follow it in its flight. 
 
 ** 1 breathed a song into the air. 
 
 It fell to earth 1 knew not where ; 
 For who has sight so keen and strong, 
 That it can follow the flight of song ? 
 
 ** Long, long afterward in an oak, 
 I found the arrow still unbroke ; 
 And the song from beginning to end, 
 I found again in the heart of a friend.*' 
 
LXIV y 
 
 Boys Who Are Brave 
 
 There are three kinds of brave boys — no, 
 four, but the fourth kind is not found in the 
 story, and I must tell it last for it belongs to 
 the sermon. 
 
 At school one day the teacher asked the 
 boys of the class to tell her what bravery 
 was, and a little lad whose name was just 
 plain John told her that real bravery was a 
 pretty hard thing to find. ** Some boys," he 
 said, ** is brave because they always plays 
 with little boys, and some boys is brave be- 
 cause their legs is too short to run away, but 
 most boys is brave because somebody is look- 
 ing." Don't you think he was a pretty smart 
 boy to say that, even although his English is 
 not extra good, and although he made some 
 bad mistakes in grammar ? Let us see : 
 First of all, some boys are brave because 
 they always play with little boys. That's 
 true, but those boys are not brave. They 
 are " brags." You know what a ** brag " is. 
 You know what animal it is that brays — it's 
 a donkey. Well, to brag is just to bray. 
 1 68 
 
Boys Who Arc Brave 169 
 
 In the second place, some boys are brave 
 because their legs are too short for them to 
 run away. These boys are really not brave 
 boys at all, for if they could they would run 
 away. They are just cowards with short 
 legs. They are the kind of soldiers who get 
 shot in the back, and God has no armour for 
 people's backs. Boys of the third class are 
 brave because somebody is looking and 
 watching them. Most of us, both men and 
 boys, belong in this class, — boys and men 
 who play ball and watch the grand stand, 
 children and grown-ups who work only when 
 some one is watching. David fights Goliath 
 when the armies on both sides are looking at 
 him. Anybody could fight a giant when a 
 great crowd is watching, and yet David was 
 really brave, for when no one was watching, 
 when he was alone in the wilderness without 
 a sword or a spear and with none to help or 
 hear his call, he fought with a lion and a bear 
 and slew them. Perhaps, after all, when we 
 think of it, he was not alone, for God was 
 looking and God was helping him, and it 
 may be that John was right, and that there 
 are only three kinds of bravery and not four. 
 I was going to say, when I started to tell the 
 story, that the fourth kind of bravery is when 
 a boy is brave and no one is near to watch 
 
lyo Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 him or see him, but, after all, the best bravery 
 comes to us because some one is looking. 
 Our friends are looking, our fathers and 
 mothers are looking, our teachers and com- 
 panions are looking, and then of course we 
 are always sure that Jesus is looking, and ex- 
 pects us to do our best, '' to fight the good 
 fight " and to be good soldiers of our King. 
 
LXV 
 
 A Little Boy and an Old Lady 
 
 I HEARD a Story the other day about a 
 little boy who always went to church and 
 who never forgot to take his collection with 
 him. He was a member of the church and 
 felt that he was part of it, and so he had his 
 envelope for his weekly offering just as his 
 father had, and he never would go to church 
 unless he had it with him. 
 
 One day when his father and mother were 
 absent he went to church alone, but not with- 
 out his offering. He had it in his little white 
 envelope, which he carried in his pocket. 
 That morning a strange lady sat at the head 
 of the seat in the same pew, and when the time 
 came for the offering to be given she looked 
 in her bag and found that she had no money 
 with her. She didn't seem to be troubled 
 about it, but the little boy was greatly troubled 
 and wondered what she would do when the 
 men came with the plates to receive the offer- 
 ing and she had none to give. You see he 
 had formed the habit of giving and enjoyed 
 it and wondered how anybody could go to 
 171 
 
172 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 church without a gift. Well, he got more 
 troubled and anxious and nervous the nearer 
 and nearer the ushers came with the collec- 
 tion plates, and when they came to the seat 
 in front of the one where he was sitting he 
 held out his little white envelope to the 
 strange lady, and said to her : " Here. You 
 take this and put it in the plate, and Til get 
 under the seat. I'm small and they won't 
 see me." That boy had formed a habit of 
 giving and when he grows to be a man it 
 will be part of his life and part of his religion 
 to give his gifts unto the Lord. 1 think that 
 every boy, no matter how small, ought to 
 give some of his money — however littie it 
 may be — ^to God. 
 
LXVl 
 Only a Boy y^ 
 
 I WANT to tell you a story about a boy and 
 a preacher. The boy's name was Robert, 
 but I don't know that I ever heard the 
 preacher's name. You know preachers are 
 soon forgotten, but some of the boys they 
 help make into men are often remembered. 
 
 This boy lived in Scotland. When he was 
 a little lad he gave his heart to Jesus, and 
 although he seemed too young to join the 
 church, his pastor encouraged him and he 
 openly confessed that Jesus was his Saviour. 
 He was the only one during all that year who 
 united with the church. He was only a boy 
 and the officers of the church thought that 
 their pastor was not succeeding very well, 
 and one of them came to him before the 
 morning service and told him that there 
 must be something wrong about his preach- 
 ing, for only one person during a whole year 
 had made a confession of Christ, and that 
 one was only a boy. 
 
 You can guess with what a heavy heart 
 the poor minister preached that morning and 
 173 
 
174 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 how before he closed his sermon the tears 
 were in his eyes, and he was wishing that his 
 work was done and his preaching at an end. 
 After the service he stayed in the church 
 alone, when every one was gone, thinking 
 over his ministry and wondering why he had 
 failed so sadly. He did not notice the door 
 open and a little boy come timidly up the 
 aisle, and he was startled when he felt a 
 little hand touch his. ** Well, Robert," said 
 the minister, "what are you doing here?" 
 The boy hesitated, but at last said, ** Do you 
 think if I were willing to work hard I could 
 become a preacher?" **A preacher!" said 
 the minister. ** Yes," said the boy. " Per- 
 haps a missionary." There was a long 
 silence, and then the old minister through 
 his tears said : ** May God bless you, my 
 boy. Yes, I think you can become a 
 preacher." 
 
 Years passed away, and the boy grew to 
 manhood and became a preacher, and, after 
 the wish of his own heart, became a mission- 
 ary, and went down into South Africa and 
 laboured long and well among the black 
 people of that dark continent, winning hun- 
 dreds of them to the Gospel of Jesus and 
 bringing in a new day for that dark land. 
 To-day everybody knows the name of Robert 
 
Only a Boy 175 
 
 Moffatt, who gave his heart to Jesus under 
 the ministry of a man who thought his life 
 was a failure. 
 
 I would rather win one boy for the gospel 
 ministry than to win the greatest success in life. 
 Perhaps some boy here will think about it 
 
LXVII 
 
 Worth Twelve Hundred Dollars 
 
 My story for you this morning is about a 
 little slave girl. She was twelve or thirteen 
 years old. Not a white girl, but a little black 
 girl with dark eyes and dark face and dark, 
 kinky hair. It was during the war days 
 about fifty years ago, when some people used 
 to sell girls and boys and men and women 
 just as cattle and sheep and pigs and chick- 
 ens are sold nowadays. 
 
 This little girl had been sold into slavery 
 and taken to the beautiful city of Brooklyn. 
 In that city there was a very great preacher, 
 a man whom everybody loved, and he was 
 very angry with the people who bought and 
 sold men and women and little children. 
 Somehow or other he heard about this little 
 black girl, and without telling anybody what 
 he was going to do, just before he preached 
 his sermon one Sunday morning, he brought 
 her up into the pulpit and stood her on a 
 chair where everybody could see her. He 
 said she was worth twelve hundred dol- 
 176 
 
Worth Twelve Hundred Dollars 177 
 
 lars, and then he sat down. You know, 
 of course, what he meant. He meant that 
 if he could get twelve hundred dollars he 
 could give it to the man who owned her and 
 then she would be free. Just think what that 
 means ! She was a slave, and not until the 
 money was paid could she be free. When Mr. 
 Beecher sat down, the officers of the church 
 arose and began to take up the collection right 
 away. Men put all the money they had in the 
 plates, women took off their jewelry and put it 
 there also, and two men said that if there was 
 not enough money in the collection plates they 
 would make up the balance. Then she was 
 free 1 Don't you think she was happy ? You 
 know all the black boys and girls in our 
 country who were slaves were made free 
 after the great war when brave men and 
 women gave their money and their lives to 
 make them free. Whenever you see a 
 coloured boy or girl, think what it cost to 
 give them freedom, and think how glad we 
 all ought to be that there is no more slavery. 
 Remember too that there is another kind 
 of slavery — the slavery of sin, and that it is 
 worse than the old time slavery. Jesus 
 gave Himself for us that we might be free, 
 and we read in the Bible that we have been 
 bought with a price, ** Not with silver or 
 
178 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 gold," for Jesus Himself loved us and gave 
 Himself for us. He has bought us from sin 
 and selfishness and made us free — free to do 
 right and free to be pure and true and kind. 
 
LXVIII 
 The King's Horses 
 
 Every one, I am sure, has heard about 
 " the king's horses." I am not so sure that 
 every one has heard of the king and the 
 horses about which I am going to tell. First, 
 I must tell you the story and then I shall 
 have to preach the sermon. But just a little 
 bit of a sermon. 
 
 It was far away over the sea in the country 
 called Sweden, where there are beautiful hills 
 and splendid steep roads and cozy little towns 
 nestling in the hillsides. You know, per- 
 haps, that when the horses get tired in those 
 old countries where they still travel over the 
 high hills and through the deep valleys in 
 stage-coaches, the driver stops at a wayside 
 inn or tavern and changes for fresh horses, 
 and so drives faster because he does not need 
 to wait until the horses rest. One day a 
 purse-proud old nobleman stopped at a little 
 inn, and seeing the landlord, called out in a 
 gruff, harsh voice, " Horses, landlord ; horses 
 at once." The landlord said he was sorry he 
 had no fresh horses, and that the nobleman 
 179 
 
l8o Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 would have to wait until the horses rested. 
 Just then a fine pair of beautiful fresh horses 
 were brought out of the stable and hitched to 
 a carriage in which a quiet little gentleman 
 was waiting. *• For whom are those horses ? " 
 said the nobleman in surprise. " I thought 
 you said there were no fresh horses here." 
 The landlord said they had been ordered by 
 the gentleman in the carriage who was now 
 getting ready to start. Then the pompous 
 old nobleman called out to the slim, silent man 
 in the other carriage, " Say, my man, let me 
 have those horses and I will pay you well for 
 them I " The man replied that he needed 
 them himself and was ready to start. 
 
 The nobleman was angry and spoke 
 sharply, " Perhaps you don't know who I am. 
 I am Field Marshall Baron George Sparre, 
 the last and only one of my race." Then the 
 other gentleman spoke, and I think there was 
 a smile on his fine face as he said, '* I am glad 
 of that. It would be a terrible thing to think 
 that there might be more of you ! I am in- 
 clined to think your race will be a foot race." 
 In another moment the strange gentleman 
 was gone. When he had departed, the land- 
 lord turned to the proud old nobleman and 
 said, "There goes the King of Sweden." 
 He had been speaking to his own king, and 
 
The King's Horses i8l 
 
 you can guess how he felt. Now comes the 
 sermon : 
 
 First. Don't judge by appearances. 
 
 Second. Don't judge by what people say 
 about themselves. 
 
 Third. Keep sweet. Be kind. Remem- 
 ber that you, too, have a King. 
 
# 
 
 LXIX 
 Thomas Edison and Theodore 
 
 Every boy and girl knows who Thomas 
 Edison is. They know that he is the man 
 who works so much with electricity. It was 
 he who made the talking machines and so 
 many other interesting things. He was once 
 a very poor boy, but is now one of the most 
 wonderful men in the world. 
 
 His work was so hard and so difficult that 
 he used to work every day in the week, Sun- 
 day the same as Monday, because some of 
 his inventions seemed to require that he 
 should work with them every day. But he 
 works on Sunday no longer, and I want to 
 tell you the reason. He has a little boy 
 named Theodore. One day Theodore and 
 his mother were coming down the street on 
 their way to the Baptist Church at Llewellyn 
 in New Jersey, and little Theodore, instead of 
 going on with his mother as usual, went into 
 the building with his father and began to 
 work at his own little experiments. Mr. 
 Edison watched him for a while, and then said 
 to him, "You must not work on Sunday, 
 182 
 
Thomas Edison and Theodore 183 
 
 Teddy." The boy lifted his bright eyes to 
 his father's, and quick as a flash said : " But 
 you work on Sunday, father.'* Teddy's 
 mother had been waiting on him to go with 
 her to church, expecting to leave his father at 
 his work, but when Teddy said those words 
 his father began to think and to say to him- 
 self, " Yes, that's so. I do work on Sunday, 
 and if I work on Sunday of course I can't tell 
 Teddy not to work, so I guess I'd better quit." 
 So Mr. Edison put away his green bottles 
 and his tall jars and his copper wire, and went 
 off to church with his wife and little son, and 
 from that day to this the door of the work- 
 shop remains closed on Sunday. 
 
 Now, I hardly know what kind of a sermon 
 to preach from this story. It looks as if it 
 might be a sermon to some fathers who expect 
 their children to go to church and Sunday- 
 school while they stay at home, or go to 
 work. Perhaps, too, it is a sermon to little 
 boys and girls to remember the Sabbath day 
 to keep it holy ; and perhaps also it is a 
 sermon as to the way in which a little child 
 may preach a really great sermon. I don't 
 know which would be the best sermon, and 
 so I'm just going to leave you to choose the 
 one you yourself think is best. 
 
LXX ,-^^ 
 The Wonder Ball 
 
 (A Christmas Story) 
 
 They tell us that over in Germany the 
 mothers and grandmothers have a beautiful 
 way of giving a Christmas gift to the children 
 who are dearly loved. It is called a " Wonder 
 Ball," and if I remember rightly, the story of 
 the ** Wonder Ball '* is something like this : 
 On Christmas morning the girls in the home 
 are presented with a very large, uneven ball 
 of yarn. It is bigger and heavier than an 
 ordinary ball of yarn, but it looks like yarn 
 and it is yarn — and perhaps something more. 
 The girls are supposed to knit the yarn into 
 beautiful, soft, warm mittens or stockings for 
 the cold days of winter, but they must not 
 unwind any of the yarn until it is used up in 
 the knitting. Well, you may be sure they 
 quickly get to work, and their fingers fly fast 
 and soon the yarn is being unwound and the 
 mittens and stockings are being made ; and 
 then suddenly something is seen that is not 
 yarn, and when it is freed from the ball and 
 unwrapped from its paper covering it is found 
 184 
 
The Wonder Ball 185 
 
 to be something beautiful which mother has 
 placed there for her little girl. Perhaps it is a 
 brooch, or a thimble. And then the knitting 
 goes on and something else .is discovered — 
 perhaps a locket or a pin. Then something 
 else and something else and the great ball 
 grows more and more interesting and magical 
 as it becomes smaller. So you see the work 
 of knitting is all play and full of surprise until 
 the last wind of the ball is free, and lo ! in 
 the very centre of the ball there is some little 
 thing — perhaps a ring, something that the 
 little lady wanted most of all — and she is so 
 glad. Now you see why it is called a " Won- 
 der Ball." And as the weeks and the years 
 were unwound in the history of the world 
 there were many beautiful things found in the 
 great ball, which is made up of the world's 
 years — and then in the very heart of it — on 
 Christmas Day — the first Christmas Day — 
 what a discovery was made I There in the 
 very centre of everything we found Jesus. 
 And when God made your little life and mine. 
 He made it just like the ** Wonder Ball," and 
 while we work away at our tasks — at the 
 very end, when the work is all done — we will 
 find something which God put there Himself, 
 and it will be the very thing we wanted most 
 
LXXI 
 
 Garibaldi and the Lost Lamb 
 
 Did you ever hear the name of Garibaldi ? 
 Do you know anything about him ? Some 
 day when you visit Lincoln Park, Chicago, 
 you can see a beautiful statue of him on a 
 little hillside looking out over the lake. 
 
 Garibaldi was one of the greatest soldiers 
 and leaders of men that the world has ever 
 known. He was known as " the man with 
 the red shirt,'^ because he always dressed in 
 a red flannel shirt and of course looked very 
 rough and somewhat untidy ; but he had a 
 tender heart just the same, as this story I am 
 going to tell you will show. It was he who 
 helped Italy to become a free nation. One 
 evening while he was in camp with his sol- 
 diers, a shepherd who had lost a lamb out 
 of his flock came into the camp in great dis- 
 tress because he could not find it. Garibaldi, 
 the great soldier, was much interested in the 
 poor shepherd and in the poor lost lamb, and 
 ordered some of his soldiers to search through 
 the mountains and hills and help the shepherd 
 find the lost lamb. The darkness was coming 
 i86 
 
Garibaldi and the Lost Lamb 187 
 
 on, but lanterns were lighted and a great 
 many soldiers turned out for the search. It 
 was quite a new thing for them to hunt for a 
 lost lamb, and they were glad of the change 
 and sought up and down and all around 
 wherever they thought the little lamb might 
 be foundj but it was all in vain, and one by 
 one the soldiers came back to camp, put out 
 their lights and went to bed. Next morning 
 when the servant of the general went to 
 attend to the wants of his master, he found 
 him asleep in bed. That was a strange thing 
 for him, for he was usually up earlier than 
 any one else ; but remembering that Garibaldi 
 too had searched for the lost lamb in the 
 night, he knew he would be tired and so 
 thought it best not to wake him. But before 
 he left the tent, he walked over to the bed, 
 and what do you think he saw there in the 
 bed with his general ? Now, what do you 
 think he saw ? I wonder if you could guess ? 
 Well, he saw a little lamb 1 It was the little 
 lost lamb, and Garibaldi, the great general of 
 Italy, had kept up the search through the 
 long hours of darkness after the soldiers had 
 failed, and had found it, and had brought it 
 home safely in his arms, and it had slept with 
 him in his own bed. 
 
 I think any man who could love a litde 
 
l88 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 lamb like that could not be anything but a 
 good man. Now there is a story in the Bible 
 something like that story. It tells us of the 
 Good Shepherd who went out to find a little 
 lost lamb that had wandered into the moun- 
 tains, and He searched for it until He found it, 
 and when He found it He put it on His shoul- 
 ders and brought it home rejoicing, saying : 
 " Rejoice with Me. I have found the sheep 
 that was lost." Jesus is our Shepherd. If 
 we wander away from Him, He seeks us until 
 He finds us. There's a hymn we sometimes 
 sing, which tells the same story : 
 
 " The shepherd sought his sheep, 
 
 The father sought his child ; 
 He followed me o'er field and hill, 
 
 O'er deserts waste and wild. 
 He found me nigh to death, 
 
 Famished and faint and lone, 
 He bound me with the bands of love, 
 
 He saved the wandering one." 
 
LXXII 
 
 An Easter Story 
 
 Easter Day is the happiest day in all the 
 year. Perhaps you think Christmas Day is 
 the happiest day, but I think when you grow 
 older you will think that Easter Day is the 
 best day of all the year. 
 
 I am going to tell you an Easter story. 
 
 It happened over a hundred years ago. It 
 was in a country in Europe called Austria, in 
 a very little town called Feldkirch. It was 
 during the time when that great general Na- 
 poleon was carrying on his dreadful wars, and 
 one of his generals, whose name was Massena, 
 came one Easter Eve to capture the little 
 town, and he came with over eighteen thou- 
 sand men. When the sun rose the people of 
 the little village could see the light gleaming 
 on the weapons of the soldiers, as they were 
 scattered on the hillside. The men of the 
 town decided that it was useless for them to 
 fight or to try to defend their town, and 
 agreed that it would be best to allow the 
 soldiers to enter and then ask for mercy at 
 their hands. After they had so decided, the 
 189 
 
190 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 minister of the Httle church stood up and said : 
 ** This is Easter Day. It is the day of the 
 Lord's resurrection. It is a day for joy, and 
 not for sorrow. Let the bells of the church 
 ring and let us have our service as usual, and 
 perhaps God will help us if we will trust 
 Him." Some of the people, I suppose, 
 laughed at what the minister said, but at last 
 they agreed that the church service should be 
 held, and so the bells began to ring out their 
 glad music to tell all the people that it was 
 Easter Day. The soldiers couldn't under- 
 stand what it all meant. They saw the peo- 
 ple going through the streets of the town on 
 their way to the church and heard the bells 
 ringing their joyful music, and they began to 
 think that somehow these people had some 
 reason for their gladness, that perhaps they 
 had a great body of soldiers hidden away, 
 and before the bells stopped ringing the sol- 
 diers on the hillside had broken up their camp 
 and departed. 
 
 I imagine it was a real Easter service which 
 was held in that litde village church that day. 
 It is a good thing to ring the Easter-bells of 
 gladness whenever we are in sorrow, for God 
 is with us, and if God is with us He is more 
 than all those that are against us. 
 
LXXIII 
 The Children of a King 
 
 This is a story about a mother and a 
 grandmother. The grandmother was a 
 queen, the mother was a princess — not a 
 fairy princess, but a real live princess. The 
 grandmother's name was Queen Alexandra, 
 and the mother's name was Princess May. 
 The princess is now the queen, and they call 
 her Queen Mary. Her husband's name is 
 George, and he is the king of England. Not 
 George III, but George V. They have six 
 children with old-fashioned names : Edward 
 Albert, who is the Prince of Wales ; Princess 
 Victoria Alexandra, Prince Henry William, 
 Prince Albert Frederick, Prince George Ed- 
 ward, and little five-year-old Prince John 
 Charles. 
 
 Some years ago their father and mother, 
 who were then the Prince and Princess of 
 Wales, started on a long trip around the 
 world. When they left home the children 
 were given strict rules to follow, certain 
 things to do and certain other things not to 
 do, and the royal nurses were commanded to 
 191 
 
192 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 see that the rules were strictly obeyed. After 
 they had gone their grandmother came one 
 day to see them, and you know what grand- 
 mothers do when they go to see their grand- 
 children. Although she was the queen, she 
 was still their grandmother, and she brought 
 the children a nice big box of candy, and the 
 children danced around her and had a good 
 time, for they were very fond of her — and also 
 fond of candy. So she opened the box and 
 it looked very tempting, but all of a sudden 
 the children put their hands behind their 
 backs and refused to take any of the bonbons, 
 for they remembered that their mother had 
 said they were to eat no candy while she was 
 gone. The queen being only a grandmother 
 and knowing far more than any mother could 
 ever know, coaxed and coaxed and coaxed 
 and said she would tell their mother when 
 she came back and that it would be all right, 
 but not one of the children would touch a 
 single piece, and the queen was not very 
 well pleased, and after visiting a little while 
 with them she left the box of candy on the 
 nursery table and went back to her own 
 home. 
 
 That's the way grandmothers do — they 
 break all the rules the children's mothers 
 make, but it can't be helped. Now, what do 
 
The Children of a King 193 
 
 you think about it ? Do you think the chil- 
 dren ate that candy ? Do you think you would 
 have eaten it ? Well, those royal children 
 left that box of candy lying on the table for 
 days and days and weeks, and it was shown 
 to their mother when she came home. Then 
 they all laughed about it, but their mother 
 was glad that her children had obeyed her. 
 Obedience is the best thing that any child 
 can learn. Jesus learned it when He was a 
 litde boy, for we read that in His home at 
 Nazareth He was always obedient to His 
 parentSo 
 
LXXIV 
 
 / 
 
 Dr. Barnardo 
 
 When in England I visited the great 
 Barnardo Homes, where boys and girls of the 
 great city of London who have no mothers 
 and fathers are given a place to sleep and 
 something to eat and are cared for and 
 taught, and then are sent out into our coun- 
 try and into Canada, where homes are found 
 for them and they are given a chance to 
 grow up good men and women. When I 
 looked at the great building and the many 
 little children who were made happy there, I 
 thought of the strange way in which God led 
 Dr. Barnardo to start such a great work. 
 
 He was just a young man working in one 
 of the city missions, when he was called by 
 God to his life's work. One night before 
 shutting up the mission, he saw a poor little 
 ragged urchin standing beside the stove, 
 without hat or shoes or stockings. He said 
 to the boy, " Boy, it is time for you to go 
 home." But the boy never moved and never 
 answered, and a second time Dr. Barnardo 
 said to him, " My boy, it is time for you to 
 194 
 
Dr. Barnardo 195 
 
 go home." Then the boy said, " I ain't got 
 no home." Dr. Barnardo scarcely believed 
 the boy and asked him to go to his home 
 with him, and after he had received some- 
 thing to eat the boy told him his story. He 
 said he had no father and no mother, no one 
 to care for him, no place to sleep and no place 
 to go. **Are there more like you?" asked 
 Dr. Barnardo. *' Yes, lots of them," said the 
 boy. " I'll show you some of them if you will 
 come with me." So about midnight the 
 doctor and the boy went out into the street, 
 and after walking down a dark back lane the 
 boy pointed to a kind of coal bin and said, 
 *' There's lots of them in there." The doctor 
 stooped down and lit a match, but there was 
 not a single boy there. He thought the boy 
 was fooling him, but the little lad, quite un- 
 afraid, said : ** The cops have been after 
 them. They are up on the roof." So the 
 boy led the doctor up to a tin-covered roof, 
 and there on that winter night, with the stars 
 shining overhead, the doctor saw thirteen lit- 
 tle boys huddled up asleep, one little fellow 
 hugging close to his brother to keep himself 
 warm, nothing under them but the cold tin 
 roof and nothing over them but the starlit 
 sky. The boy said to the doctor, *' Shall I 
 wake them up ? " The doctor was about to say 
 
196 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 ** Yes/' and then remembered that he had one 
 boy and didn't know what to do with him ; so 
 what could he do with fourteen? And he 
 answered *' No." But that night out on the 
 roof Dr. Barnardo promised God that he 
 would give his whole life to making a home 
 for the lost boys and girls of London. 
 
 That was his first night with the boys. 
 Last night there slept in the homes provided 
 for them by this Christian doctor, in clean 
 white little beds, nearly five thousand boys 
 and girls who were gathered off the streets of 
 the great city. That is the story and there is 
 no sermon. 
 
LXXV 
 
 Follow the Leader 
 
 I SUPPOSE you all know how to play the 
 game, " Follow the Leader." I have a story 
 about five small boys who had an exciting 
 time at that game. They lived out in the 
 west, in the city of Seattle, and I saw the 
 story in a Western newspaper. They were 
 having a good time coming down the street 
 pell-mell, when one of the boys, the leader, 
 jumped over a mail box, and the next fol- 
 lowed and the next, but I expect he didn't 
 make it very well, for as he fell the mail box 
 fell too and struck a stone and the lock broke, 
 and the letters were scattered all over the 
 ground. That was the end of *' Follow the 
 Leader " for a while. You can well believe 
 that they were pretty badly frightened. 
 
 What do you think they did ? They held 
 a little confab there on the street corner, and 
 decided that they would take to their heels. 
 Then they changed their minds, and decided 
 to write a note and explain that they did not 
 mean to break the box, and this they did and 
 each boy signed his name, and the letter was 
 put in the box with the other letters and they 
 left. They had not gone far before one of the 
 197 
 
198 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 lads — the smallest lad of the five — said, " I 
 think we'd better go straight to the post-office 
 and tell just what happened, or we may get 
 into trouble." You see they were scared ; and 
 so after talking it over, three of them went 
 off to tell their tale. That was another game 
 of " Follow the Leader,'* and a good one it 
 was. 
 
 When they reached the post-office they 
 would talk to no one but Postmaster Russell 
 himself, and so were ushered into his private 
 office. The postmaster opened his eyes 
 when those three boys marched through the 
 door on to his plush carpet, I can tell you. 
 But he opened his eyes still wider when the 
 smallest lad stepped up to him with his cap 
 in hand and said : *' Please, sir, we done it, 
 ' and we'll take what's coming to us." " Done 
 what?" said the postmaster. Then the lad 
 told him that, " Him and him and me and 
 Beany and Scotty were playing ' Follow the 
 Leader,' " and that they had broken open the 
 mail box at the corner of Thirteenth Street 
 and Union, and that they had first decided 
 to run away and then had written a letter, 
 and then three of them had come to tell him 
 while Beany and Scotty guarded the box 
 with clubs. 
 
 I guess you know just how that postmaster 
 
Follow the Leader 199 
 
 felt when he heard the boys' story, and how 
 his eyes danced and what he told them. 
 They went away far happier than when they 
 came, as happy as kings, following the 
 leader who called back to his chums before 
 they were well out of the door, ** I knew they 
 wouldn't hang us." 
 
 When the broken box was brought to the 
 office, they found the letter the boys had 
 written before they decided to take their 
 punishment, and this was what it said 
 
 "Dear Mister Postmaster : 
 
 " We done it, but we didn't go to. 
 ** Yours truly, 
 
 Henry 
 
 Beany 
 
 SCOTTY 
 
 Louis 
 
 George " 
 
 I am sure that this is a good story, and 
 that those were brave, good, honest boys 
 who will some day be good, brave, honest 
 men. A good story ought to have a good 
 sermon, and here it is : 
 
 First : Be sure you follow a good leader. 
 Jesus said : '* Follow Me." 
 
 Second : Never be afraid to do what is 
 right. 
 
 Third : Confession of wrong is the next 
 best thing to never having done wrong. 
 
LXXVI 
 
 Teeter-Totter 
 
 I SUPPOSE none of you ever played see- 
 saw, or as it is sometimes called teeter- 
 totter? I see you are smiling. Perhaps I 
 made a mistake and forgot that boys and 
 girls are playing at the same games now that 
 their fathers and mothers, and grandfathers 
 and grandmothers, and great-grandfathers 
 and great-grandmothers played in the good 
 old days long, long ago. It is a great game, 
 this teeter-totter, and it is a good deal like 
 the bigger game of life which all of us are 
 playing at in the big, big world. But I fear 
 this is a sermon I am preaching, and I began 
 to tell a story. 
 
 Not very long ago I heard of a little boy 
 and a little girl who loved each other dearly, 
 and they played together in the garden where 
 there was a teeter board. One day the nurse 
 heard the little boy crying as if his heart 
 would break, and going to the garden she 
 found the boy lying with his face in the grass, 
 and his little companion sitting wonderingly 
 on the teeter board. After he could find his 
 200 
 
Teeter-Totter 201 
 
 voice, the little fellow wailed out, " I want to 
 go up when she goes up, and I want to go 
 down when she goes down." Was he not a 
 very foolish and funny little fellow ? Of 
 course, he could never do what he wanted to 
 do. He could only go up when she went 
 down, and down when she went up, and it 
 didn't matter whether he cried and screamed 
 until the end of the world ; neither his nurse, 
 nor his mother, nor the queen of all the 
 fairies, could fix it the way he wanted it to be. 
 Now, there is more than one sermon in 
 that story. We sometimes have to go down 
 so that other people may go up. Our fathers 
 and mothers have worked and prayed and 
 suffered that we might be saved from many 
 things from which they were not saved. In 
 the Bible we read about Jonathan, the prince, 
 the friend of David, who gave up his right 
 to be king so that David, his friend, might 
 wear the crown and sit on the throne. Jona- 
 than was happy to think that by his going 
 down his friend would go up. It is very 
 interesting to think about, and it is so 
 splendid to feel that it may be just like the 
 game of teeter-totter, such real good fun, 
 and they are only foolish people who cannot 
 have joy in other people's happiness. Jesus 
 carried a cross that you and I might wear a 
 
202 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 crown, and we too will find peace, and joy, 
 and happiness in the same way. Did you 
 ever hear these beautiful verses that tell 
 this same story and preach this same ser- 
 mon : 
 
 *' Christ, when a child, a garden made, 
 And many roses flourished there ; 
 He watered them three times a day, 
 To make a garland for His hair ; 
 
 " And when in time the roses bloomed, 
 He called the children in to share ; 
 They tore the flowers from every stem, 
 And left the garden stripped and bare ; 
 
 *' ' How wilt Thou weave Thyself a crown, 
 Now that Thy roses are all dead ? ' 
 * You have forgotten that the thorns 
 
 Are left for me,' the Christ-child said; 
 
 " They plaited Him a crown of thorns, 
 And laid it rudely on His head ; 
 A garland for His forehead made. 
 For roses, drops of blood instead/* 
 
LXXVII 
 
 The Dark Tunnel 
 
 You all know what a tunnel is. It is a 
 road made under the ground. Sometimes 
 it is made under a mountain, through cold, 
 hard rock, so that people and trains can 
 travel through it, and sometimes it is made 
 under the water. The greatest tunnels under 
 the mountains are, I suppose, in Italy and 
 Switzerland, where the railroads run through 
 dark tunnels, ten and twelve miles long. 
 In our country, the most interesting tunnels 
 are under the water. If you travel some time 
 to New York City, perhaps you will go 
 through one of these tunnels. It is under 
 the Hudson River, and is one of the most 
 interesting tunnels in the world. There is 
 another one under the Saint Clair River, just 
 at the lower end of Lake Huron, between 
 Port Huron and Sarnia, where we travel 
 from the United States to Canada. The 
 other day I passed through that long, dark 
 tunnel, and I was much interested in it. It 
 is over a mile long, and is deep and dark 
 and damp. 
 
 203 
 
204 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 When I first went through it years ago, 
 it was not so interesting. The doors and 
 windows of the cars were closely fastened, 
 and even then the smoke and the fumes from 
 the engine came in and it was really a very 
 dreadful and unhappy experience. It would 
 almost send you to sleep in the daytime, 
 and always wake you out of your sleep at 
 night. Not very long ago a train that was 
 passing through the tunnel broke down in 
 it, and several people died there in the smoke 
 and the fumes and the darkness. There is 
 no chance of that happening again, for now 
 all is different. Instead of a big, black, 
 smoking engine, there is a wonderful electric 
 motor which pulls the train through clean 
 fresh air, with the doors and the windows of 
 the cars all open and the lights in the tunnel 
 burning clear and bright. 
 
 I wonder if the tunnel can preach the same 
 sermon to you as it did to me. Life, you 
 know, has many deep, dark tunnels. People 
 long, long ago, and many even now, have 
 been afraid in the darkness, and some have 
 perished in it through lack of help and hope. 
 But things have changed. Jesus has come 
 and He has brought into the world a great 
 light. 
 
 There is also another lesson I would like 
 
The Dark Tunnel 205 
 
 you to learn from this dark tunnel. You 
 know when "you pass through it you are in 
 another country. You leave Canada, and 
 when you pass the tunnel you are in the 
 United States, or you leave the United States 
 and pass through into Canada, where you 
 see another flag flying. This is what is called 
 the " border," and you see a great deal of 
 fussiness and anxiety. People are exajnined 
 there. Officers examine and inspect them, 
 and examine and inspect their trunks and 
 grips, and bags and baskets, to see if they 
 should be permitted to enter into the country. 
 It is not a very pleasant experience, but for 
 people who do not need to be examined it is 
 not at all unpleasant. And really things are 
 not much difTerent, and if you passed through 
 in the night perhaps you would scarcely 
 know that you had crossed over into another 
 country. There is the same sky, the same 
 sun, the same air, the grass is the same colour 
 and the trees have the same kind of leaves 
 and the same kind of fruit, and the people 
 speak the same language. We are often told 
 that when we go through the dark tunnel 
 which is called death, things will be all so 
 different, everything will be so strange and 
 we will be in a new world. Well, I don't 
 know. Perhaps things will not be so differ- 
 
2o6 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 ent after all. We'll have the same God and 
 the same Saviour, and the same friends, and 
 we will speak the same language as we do 
 now. Those who love the Lord Jesus are 
 travelling over the King's Highway, and are 
 not alone, for the dear Master is with them, 
 and where He is, there is light and joy and 
 love and heaven. 
 
LXXVIII 
 
 The Three Johns 
 
 Here is a boy whose name is John. Here 
 is another boy whose name is Thomas. 
 When they talk together, there are six per- 
 sons talking. At least so a great man once 
 said who wrote a great book, which I hope 
 you will some day read. The great man's 
 name was Oliver Wendell Holmes, and he 
 said a great many wise things. But, you say, 
 if he said that when John and Thomas talked 
 together there were six persons talking, then 
 he surely said some things that were not wise, 
 but very, very foolish. Well, let us see. He 
 said that in John there were three Johns, and 
 that in Thomas there were three Thomases, 
 and I think what he said was quite true, and 
 that it was true not only of the John and the 
 Thomas of whom he was speaking, but it is 
 true of all the boys and all the girls in all the 
 world, no matter what their names may be. 
 First, to speak only of John, there is John 
 No. I. He is the John he thinks himself to 
 be. You know almost every one has a good 
 opinion of himself, and John No. i is a most 
 207 
 
2o8 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 capable, first-class fellow. John No. i says, ** I 
 am not as other boys are." That is to say, " I 
 am better.'^ John No. 2 is the John that other 
 people know. He is a different John. If he 
 heard people talking about him, he would 
 not know himself. He would think they 
 were talking about Nebuchadnezzar, King of 
 the Jews, or some one else equally unknown 
 to him. Judas, for instance, thought himself 
 a smart man, but Peter knew that Judas was 
 a thief. Peter thought he was a brave man, 
 but John knew that Peter was a coward. So 
 you see there really are at least two Johns. 
 But there are more than two Johns. There 
 are three Johns, and John No. 3 is the real 
 John, the John that God knows. John may 
 be mistaken about himself, and John's friends 
 may be mistaken about him, but God knows 
 John through and through. 
 
 But that is not all of the story. When 
 John heard the wise man say these things he 
 laughed all to himself, and when in a litde 
 while the peaches were passed around — for 
 all this happened at the breakfast table- 
 there were only three and so John took all 
 three. One for John No. i, one for John No. 
 2, and one for John No. 3. You see he be- 
 lieved what the wise man said. 
 
 God wants us so to live that John No. i 
 
The Three Johns 209 
 
 will be like John No. 2, and that both John 
 No. I and John No. 2 may be like John No. 
 3. Jesus came to make all these three one. 
 He can help us to think about ourselves 
 wisely and truly, and not to think of our- 
 selves better or worse than we ought to think. 
 He will help us to live so that other people 
 will not be mistaken about us and think of us 
 wrongly. Then, too, He will show us just 
 what God thinks about us, and that will help 
 us to know ourselves and see ourselves as we 
 ought. God always sees us at our best, and 
 our real self — the self God knows about and 
 sees and loves — will then become as it were 
 the only real John and will master and con- 
 trol the other Johns. 
 
LXXIX 
 
 Sewing Without Thread 
 
 I SUPPOSE I ought to say right now that 
 this story is not for boys. It is for girls. The 
 sermon that follows the story may be for both 
 boys and girls, but the story itself is for girls 
 only and so the boys do not need to listen. 
 It is for girls who like to sew, and for little 
 girls who like to sew on their mother's sew- 
 ing-machine. I heard the other day of just 
 such a little girl, who whenever she got the 
 chance, tried to make her mother's machine 
 ** go.'* One day she said, " I like to sew on 
 the machine when there is no thread in it, for 
 then it goes so much easier.'' Now both girls 
 and boys and men and women like to do just 
 that same thing. They like to do easy things. 
 They like to make the wheels go round with- 
 out driving anything, or without making any- 
 thing. To sew without thread is only play, 
 and a sewing-machine is to work with, not to 
 play with. Every time a boy wants to go to 
 school but does not want to study, he wants 
 to sew without thread. Every time a boy 
 goes to Sunday-school, and wants to busy 
 
 2IO 
 
Sewing Without Thread 211 
 
 himself with toys and trinkets and things and 
 does not want to learn the lesson his teacher 
 is trying to teach him, he wants to sew with- 
 out thread. Every time a girl wants to 
 be pretty in her dress and her hair and her 
 clothes, but does not want to be pretty in her 
 thoughts and her feelings and her conduct, 
 she wants to sew without thread. Every 
 time a girl wants to please other people rather 
 than please her father and her mother and her 
 brothers and sisters, she wants to sew without 
 thread. 
 
 And men and women, too, are just as fool- 
 ish as the little lady who liked to sew without 
 thread, when they think they can give their 
 children everything money can buy, books 
 and music, and pleasures and horses and 
 automobiles, and neglect to give them the 
 friendship of Jesus and the secret of a happy 
 Christian life. 
 
LXXX 
 
 The Boy Who Promised 
 
 The other day I was visiting a business 
 man in his office, and he told me a story 
 about his father. We were talking about 
 boys and girls, and their interest in the 
 story-sermons at the regular church serv- 
 ices. He said that his father when a boy lived 
 with his uncle, who was one of those good men 
 who was so good that he made other people 
 want to be bad. He was one of those hard, just 
 men who was all justice with little mercy, and 
 all duty with little delight, and all goodness 
 with little gladness. So when the boy, who 
 lived with him, grew to be a young man and 
 was ready to take care of himself, and didn't 
 need to obey his uncle any more — he said to 
 him one day, *' Well, uncle, I'm my own boss 
 now, and there are three things I am going 
 to do all the rest of my life : 
 
 ** First : Every day in winter I am going 
 skating. 
 
 " Second : Every day in summer I am go- 
 ing swimming. 
 
 212 
 
The Boy Who Promised 213 
 
 " Third : I am never going to church 
 again." 
 
 Of course these three things, and especially 
 the last, nearly took his uncle's breath away. 
 But he said nothing. That boy is a man 
 now, and the strange thing about the story 
 is that he never did one of the three things 
 he planned to do. 
 
 He didn't go skating every day in winter, 
 because every one knows he couldn't do that, 
 for there are some winter days when there is 
 no skating. 
 
 He never went swimming every summer 
 day, because every one knows he couldn't do 
 that, for there are some summer days when 
 the water is as cold as Greenland. 
 
 He never stayed away from church every 
 Sunday, because every one knows he couldn't 
 do that, for he had been trained to go when 
 he was a boy, and he couldn't break with his 
 early habit. 
 
 Not only did he go to church, but when he 
 grew to be a man he took his children to 
 church, and one of them became a minister 
 of the Gospel, and is in heaven now, and an- 
 other one is sitting here in the church this 
 morning and is wondering perhaps if I am 
 going to tell you his name. But I'll not tell. 
 There is something else, however, I will tell. 
 
2 1 4 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 I would like to tell all boys and girls not to 
 make rash promises that they cannot and 
 should not keep. Then I would like to tell 
 all boys and girls that the habits which are 
 formed when they are boys and girls will stay 
 with them when they are men and women. 
 Habits are formed in our lives like tracks are 
 made in the snow. This brain of ours when 
 we are young is just like pure, white, feath- 
 ery snow. The first time we say or do some- 
 thing there is a little track made. The sec- 
 ond time we do it, there is a clearer track 
 made. When we repeat it ten, or twenty, or 
 a hundred times, it is beaten hard and firm, 
 and that's the way it stays. Good habits, 
 and bad habits, all make beaten tracks that 
 stay through life. 
 
 Sow a thought, 
 
 And you reap an act ; 
 
 Sow an act. 
 
 And you reap a habit ; 
 
 Sow a habit, 
 
 And you reap a character ; 
 
 Sow a character, 
 
 And you reap a destiny. 
 
LXXXI 
 The Boy Scout 
 
 When in Canada last summer I met a 
 little friend who was dressed something like 
 a soldier. He was only about eleven years 
 old, and I said to him, " Why, Willie, how 
 does it come that you are a soldier? " " Fm 
 not a soldier," he said with manly pride. 
 •* I'm a scout." And sure enough, that's just 
 what he was, with his soldier-like suit and 
 his straight staff. He belonged to the great 
 company of boy scouts — not war scouts, but 
 peace scouts — which is being organized all 
 over the world. Of course you know what 
 a scout is. 
 
 A scout is taught to be manly, to serve his 
 country, to love God and to do a good turn 
 every day. To make him remember to do 
 the good turn, he wears a knot in his necktie. 
 If you see a boy with a knot in his necktie, 
 do not think he is careless, for it may be he's 
 a scout and wants to remember his vow to be 
 kind. A scout is taught to know weather 
 signs, to find his way at night by the stars, 
 to track men and animals, to hide himself, to 
 "5 
 
2l6 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 signal across water and from hilltops, to tie 
 knots in ropes, to make tents and fires and 
 camp beds, to sleep in the open air, to read 
 character from people's shoes and hats and 
 faces, to know the ways and calls of the birds 
 and the wild game, to distinguish leaves and 
 flowers and fruits. He is taught to exercise 
 and take care of himself, to rescue others 
 from drowning or from fire, to care for the 
 wounded and the sick, to be kind to women 
 and little children and old people, to do a 
 kind act every day and take no reward. 
 
 The motto of all the scouts is, ** Be Pre- 
 pared." It is a good motto. Be ready to 
 take care of yourselves, to help others, to 
 serve your country, to do God's will. If you 
 are going to do the world's work, you must 
 have steady nerves and strong muscles. If 
 you are going to take your part in the battle 
 for peace and purity, you must have educated 
 brains and trained minds. If you are going 
 to help God make the world better, you must 
 fit yourself for service and be ready when He 
 calls. Jesus was thirty years getting ready to 
 do three years' work. 
 
 You have heard perhaps of the boy who 
 dreamed such a strange dream. He dreamed 
 that the rich man, the only rich man in his 
 little town, came to him and said he was tired 
 
The Boy Scout 217 
 
 of his fine houses and horses, and he wanted 
 the Httle lad to take his place. Then the old 
 doctor came to him and said he was tired 
 going up and down the streets caring for the 
 sick, and he wanted him to be ready to be- 
 come the town physician. Then the judge 
 came to him and said he was tired trying 
 cases and going to court, and he wanted 
 some one to take his place on the bench. 
 
 Then the town drunkard came, the old 
 man who was the shame of the village, and 
 said to him that he could not live much 
 longer, and he wanted him to take his place 
 in the saloons and on the streets. What a 
 dream that was ! And yet it could easily be 
 a true dream. The places which doctors and 
 lawyers and ministers and business men hold 
 to-day will some time be filled by others — by 
 the boys of to-day. See to it that you do not 
 waste your play-days, but get a strong body 
 while you are a boy. Don't waste your 
 school-days, but get a strong mind before it 
 is too late. Don't waste your church and Sun- 
 day-school days, but get ready a strong heart 
 and conscience and character so that you will 
 be ready when God calls you. God will 
 surely call you. Do not be afraid of that. 
 Only be sure you are ready when He does 
 call. " Be Prepared." 
 
LXXXII 
 
 The Sunday Engine 
 
 I WONDER which day of the week you like 
 best. You know there are seven days in 
 every week : Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, 
 Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. 
 I wonder which one of the seven is your best 
 day. For most boys and girls the week is 
 divided into three parts — Saturday, of course, 
 is a day when boys and girls catch up with 
 their play and their important work ; Sunday 
 stands all alone by itself in a sort of glass case 
 for them to look at, for many boys and girls 
 scarcely know what to do with it. All the 
 other days, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, 
 Thursday, Friday are school-days, and can 
 be tied up in a bundle and sold at a bargain. 
 I am quite curious to know which day you 
 like the best. Could you guess which day I 
 would like you to call your best day ? Well, 
 I'll tell you, for I think you could not guess. 
 I wish that every day was your best day. 
 You thought I would say Sunday, didn't 
 you ? Well, perhaps that's what I mean, for i! 
 218 
 
The Sunday Engine 219 
 
 Sunday is the best day then every day will be 
 a best day too, and that is what I would wish 
 for every boy and girl. People who make 
 Sunday a day for picnics and holidays and 
 pleasure parties really have no best days at all. 
 
 I heard the other day about a little girl 
 nearly six years old who thinks Sunday is 
 the very best day in the week. That is the 
 day, you know, when she wears her best 
 dress and her best everything, and she can 
 go to Sunday-school like a little lady, and 
 her father is home all day and in the after- 
 noon tells her stories and becomes her own 
 dear chum. Her name is Wilhelmina. Don't 
 you think that is a pretty big name for such 
 a little girl ? One Sunday Wilhelmina had 
 had such a good time, and when night came 
 and her mother had kissed her good-night, 
 she said : " Mamma, isn't it funny how the 
 days go by, one after the other, just like a 
 train of cars, with Sunday for the engine?" 
 
 Why, of course. Why didn't some of us 
 grown-ups think of that before ? Sunday is 
 the engine, and Monday, Tuesday, Wednes- 
 day, Thursday, Friday and Saturday are the 
 cars, and all together they make up the vesti- 
 bule train. Be sure you take good care of 
 the engine and see that the brass is kept pol^ 
 ished and the fire burning. 
 
220 Children's Story-Sermons 
 
 A good engine makes a good train, and a 
 good Sunday makes a good week. I want 
 you to remember a little verse which I learned 
 when I was a boy. My father taught it to 
 me-; 
 
 " A Sabbath well spent 
 Brings a week of content, 
 And joy for the cares of to-morrow ; 
 But a Sabbath profaned, 
 Whatever be gained. 
 Is the sure forerunner of sorrow.** 
 
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