# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1904_S54
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

54

The Lutheran Pioneer.

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Not Alone.

“Tf all my earthly friends remove,
My fondest wishes empty prove,
Still I am with my Saviour’s love,
Alone —yet not alone.

“‘Whate’er may now to me betide,

I have a place wherein to hide,
By faith ’tis e’en at His blest side,
Alone —yet not alone.’’

———_—— oe

The Little Loaf.

In the time of a famine a rich man permitted
the poorest children of the city to come to his house,
and said to them, ‘‘There stands a crate full of bread.
Each of you may take a loaf from it, and you may
come every day until God sends better times.’’

The children at once surrounded the basket,
striving and quarreling over the bread, because each
desired to obtain the finest; and they finally went
off without a word of thanks.

Only Francisca, a clean, but poorly clad little
girl, remained standing at a distance, then took the
smallest of the loaves left in the basket, kissed her
hand gratefully to the man, and went quietly and
becomingly home.

On the next day the children were equally ill-
mannered, and Francisca this time had a loaf which
was scarcely half as large as the others; but when
she reached home and her mother broke the bread,
there fell out quite a number of new silver pieces.
The mother was frightened, and said, ‘‘Take the
money back at once, for it certainly got into the
bread by accident.’”?

Francisca did as she was bid, but the benevolent
man said to her, ‘‘No, no; it was not an accident.
I had the silver baked in the smallest loaf in order

to reward thee, thou good child. Ever remain as

peace-loving and satisfied.”

He who would rather have a smaller loaf than.

quarrel about a greater will always bring a blessing to
the home, even though no gold is baked in the bread.

John Wiseacre.

John Wiseacre had just come to hie village home
from the university. He was yery proud of the
little learning he had, and looked with pity upon
those who still believed the Bible and attended
church on Sundays. He one day tried to convince

an old farmer that many things in the Bible must.

give way before the advance of modern science.
He assured him that astronomy, geology, and

higher criticism had found many errors in the .

Bible, and that no intelligent person now believes
in the literal truth of the Old Testament stories.

Finding the old farmer unmoved, he at last
said with some impatience: ‘‘You will admit that
it was at least very strange for an ass to open his
mouth and speak like a man, as we read in one of
the Old Testament stories.’’

“‘No, John,’’ replied the old Christian farmer,
“T don’t think it was very strange; for it was not
a bit stranger than for a man to open his mouth and
speak like an ass, as you are doing now when speak-
ing against the Word of the almighty God.”’

That settled John Wiseacre, but it made him no
wiser. To an old Christian grandmother, who spoke
with him about his not going to church, he said,
‘‘We know nothing of a personal God among the
facts of consciousness and nature.” ,

“Don’t you?”’ replied grandmother as she looke
at him along time in compaasion through her large
spectacles. ‘‘I’m sorry for you,’’ she then added,
‘but I hope you’ll not put your ignorance in the
place of other people’s knowledge. Bless the Lord,
there are some other people who do know something
of a personal God.”’

That settled John Wiseacre, and he did not again
try to show off his little learning among the simple
Christian village folks.

A Forgiving Christian.

A settler in South Africa, who lived some dis-
tance up the country, one day found a native lurk-
ing round his stable. He accused the man of trying
to steal a horse. The captive reiterated his inno-
cence, and explained that he was going home to
his kraal. Despite his frantic struggles and efforts
to escape, the poor Kaffir was dragged to a tree,
and there, with one blow of an ax, his right hand
was severed from its wrist.

It was about three months after this tragic event
that the settler found himself benighted while still
far away from home. He came to a Kaffir hut and
asked for admission. A tall native desired him to
enter, and food was placed before him. Next morn-
ing, when he arose to depart, his host confronted
him, and, holding up his arm, asked the white man
if he knew it. The squatter turned pale; the hand
was gone! He knew he had been at the mercy-of
the man he had treated so cruelly. The Kaffir con-
tinued, ‘‘You were in my power; I could have
killed you. Revenge said, ‘Kill the man who has
maimed you for life,’ but I replied, ‘No, I am a
Christian, and I will forgive.’”’