The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1899, Page 39

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The Lutheran Pioneer.

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39

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Story of a Bulgarian Boy.

While up in the Balkan Mountains caring

for his sheep, a poor Bulgarian boy in some.

way heard of Robert College and the educa-
tion that was given there, and he resolved to
go and ask for admittance.

He traveled alone on foot all the distance,
and at last appeared before the gates of that
institution. He stated what he had come for,
but was refused admittance, as the college was
already full.

He could not have presented a very en-
couraging appearance as he stood there, that
ignorant boy of fifteen. His dress consisted
of trousers and vest of sheepskin, with a large
garment of the same material which was worn
over the head, forming a peaked cap, which
also came down over his shoulders and served
asa cloak. He looked very much like an Es-
quimau. Do you think their refusal to admit
him satisfied him? By no means. He said he
must come to the college and he would work
for them.

They told him they had no place for him to
sleep; but, as that did not discourage him,
the faculty came together to consider the case.

Finally, it was decided to give him the care
of the thirty-two stoves in the building, say-
ing this would soon test him, believing that
some morning they would wake to find the
boy gone to his mountains and his sheep.
They led him into the basement, where was a
perfectly cold room, with no furniture in it;
this, they told him, was the best they could
do for him.

He appeared delighted, and said that it was
better than he had been accustomed to at
home. ven the prospect of the thirty-two
stoves did not discourage him, and he set to
work at once to fit up his quarters. He
dragged into his room a large empty box.
This he filled with saw-dust, of which he
found an abundance near the wood pile over
which he was to preside. This furnished him
his bed.

As he went about his work, he attracted
the attention and sympathy of the young men
of the college, and one gave him a pair of
shoes, another a coat, and so on, until he be-
gan to look more like a human being, and,
best of all, the students, between them, found
time to teach him his letters; and it was a
curious sight to see this poor boy, every even-
ing after his work was finished, sitting in his
box of saw-dust to avoid the dampness of the
Stone floor, his little piece of candle fastened
to a nail on another box, poring over his
book.

At last, it was decided that his fidelity to
his work deserved wages; and he was regu-
larly hired, and told that, if he could find time
to fit himself for the ‘preparatory course,’’ he
might enter college the following year. This
Was much doubted. However, with the as-
Sistance of the young men, he so fitted him-
Self that the question was not, Can he keep

up with the class? but, Can his class keep up
with him?

A benevolent lady in Massachusetts fur-
nished a scholarship for him; and he finished
the course with credit, and is now a Christian
worker among his own people.

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Song of Praise in the Night.

Once I sat at the deathbed of a man eighty
years old. He was poor, aye, very poor.
When well, he had earned his bread as a car-
penter; now he was old and sick. As long as
he could see, he had diligently searched the
Scriptures, but now he was blind and could
not read. As long as he could walk, despite
his blindness, he would come to church, led
by his grandson. Once, when climbing a
mountain on his way to church, he fell, broke
his leg, and could no longer leave his bed.
I often sat at his bedside, but never heard
one word of complaint pass his lips. Peace,
deep peace, shone forth from the countenance
of this venerable man. His highest joy was
to speak of the mysteries of God’s love.
Once he said to me: ‘‘In summer, when wheat
Tipens and harvest time is near, the blades
begin to die from below; they bleach, and
finally the grains ripen. Thus it is with me.
I am gradually dying from below; by and by
my heart, too, when ripe, will die, and I shall
be translated into the garden of God.’? When
death really was approaching, I asked him
what text I should choose for his funeral ser-
mon. He sat up in bed, turned his eyes to-
ward me, and said with a loud voice: ‘‘My
funeral text you will find recorded in the
Prophet Micah, where it reads thus: ‘When

I sit in darkness, the Lord shall be a light.

unto me. This was a song of praise in the

night I have never forgotten. — Z. Frommel.

How Freddy’s Prayer was Answered.

Some years ago a poor widow woman was
sitting by the window of her little cottage
of a warm summer evening. Her little boy
Freddy stood by her, leaning against the
window-frame. This poor widow loved her
cottage home very much. It had been pur-
chased by her husband, who had but recently
died. He had planted choice fruit trees about
it, and added other comforts and conveniences,
that made it a pleasant home.

But on this evening the widow was very sad.
The next day her home was to be sold. Her
husband had borrowed five hundred dollars
from a rich neighbor with which to purchase
the cottage. ‘The agreement was that fifty
dollars was to be returned each year, until
all was paid back. This had been done, and
but fifty dollars remained unpaid. But the
rich neighbor had just died, and his son, on
looking through his father’s papers, had found
the agreement, but there was nothing said on
the paper about any payments having been

=

made. So he went to the widow and asked
for the five hundred dollars. She told him
that all had been paid except fifty dollars,
but she could not find the receipts. She
searched the cottage for her husband’s re-
ceipt-book, but all in vain. ‘Then the young
man said: ‘I don’t believe any of this five
hundred dollars has been paid, and so I will
sell your cottage in order to get the money.”
A\nd now it was the evening before the sale.
You see the woman had good cause for being
sad. But Freddy said:
‘Mother, don’t you think that if we pray
to Jesus in our trouble, He will help us???
“*Yes, my child,’”’ she said. So they knelt
down and little Freddy asked the good Lord
to help them to keep their home, or, if they
must leave it, to find them another one.
When Freddy was risen from his knees the
first thing he saw was a large firefly, which
had just come in at the window. He tried
to catch it. Around the room he ran, the fly
dodging this way and that until it dropped to
the floor and crept under a chest. Freddy
got down on his knees, and tried to get hold
of it, but he could not reach far enough. He
asked his mother to please pull the chest
away. She did so; and, in doing it, heard
something fall to the floor. She stooped and
picked it up. What do you think it was?
It was the lost receipt-book. There were all
the receipts of the nine payments. She has-
tened to the rich man’s son and showed him
the receipts. When he heard how the book
was found, he was so surprised at God’s won-
derful ways in taking care of the poor widow,
that he also wrote out a receipt for the re-
maining fifty dollars and gave it toher. Thus
Jesus heard little Freddy’s prayer, and an-
swered it by means of a firefly.
—— oa oe

Could Not Be Taxed.

A tax collector one day came to a poor
minister in order to assess the value of his
property and determine the amount of taxes.
The minister asked the man to be seated.
Then the latter took out his book and asked, -
‘How much property do you possess?’’

“T am a rich man,’”’ answered the minister.

The official quickly sharpened his pencil and
asked intently, ‘‘Well, what do you own?”’

The pastor replied, ‘‘I am the possessor of
a Saviour who earned for me life everlasting,
and who has prepared a place for us in the
eternal city.’”

“What else?”’

‘Healthy and obedient children.”

‘What else?”? _

‘tA merry heart, which enables me to pass
through life joyfully.”

“What else?”’

‘That is all,’’ replied the minister.

The official closed his book, arose, took his
hat, and said, ‘‘You are indeed a rich man,
sir, but your property is not subject to tax-
ation.’’ — Selected.