The Lutheran visitor. (Columbia, S.C.) 1869-1904, February 06, 1902, Image 10
THE LUTHERAN VISITOR
10
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GOOD FABLE FOR THE CHILDREN.
There is a fable, translated
from the French. Do you know
what a fable is? The word is
sometimes used to mean a false
hood or untruth, but it has an
other and better meaning—a
short story that is intended to
•each some good lesson. When
your grandparents were children
there were but few books for
boys and girls, and ^Esop’s fa
bles were then read by young as
well as old, and very good read
ing they were. It is not known
who wrote ^Esop’s fables. There
was a celebrated writer of that
name who lived about GOO B. C.,
but it is supposed his were writ
ten by others. La Fontaine, a
Frenchman, was a writer of
charming fables, and there have
been others in other countries.
InwEsop's fables the story j g told,
and then its meaning added in a
“moral,” but we think that the
the.story should be so that every
one who reads it should see the
moral witthout being told. We
do not know who wrote this
fable, but it will no doubt remind
many a boy and girl of times
when they have been as foolish
as the fox and the goat whom
we will now introduce:
Once a fox and a goat were
walking together along a road,
and saw a sack lying against a
hedge.
“What do you think is inside
that sack ?” said the goat.
“Iwi^go and see,” replied
the fox; and, putting his nose
into the mouth of thcsack, tied
tigi hly by a chord,he shook about
the bag so much that the string
at last gave away, and the finest
carrots one could wish for fell
out.
“They are for me,” said the
fox, “for I opened the sack.”
“Yes,” said the goat, “but I
gave you the idea, and if you
touch them I will tear your
sides with my horns.”
The fox looked at the goat’s
great horns and showed, his
teeth.
The goat, on seeing the fox’s
teeth, thought within herself:
“I don’t much like that kind of
weapon.”
And the fox said to himself:
“I will not expose my sides to
those terrible horns.”
After a minute’s silence the
fox said: “Why do we stand
looking at each other? What is
the use of that? Let us see
which is the stronger. See, there
are two heaps of stones. You
shall take one and I the other.
He who shall first throw down
his heap shall eat the carrots.”
“Very well,” said the goat.
So they went to their heaps-of
stones.
The goat put her ilegs firmly
together, and struck with her
horns so hard as to make a great
noise, but the heap did not shake.
“Ah! you did not hit hard en
ough,” said the fox.
The goat went three steps
backwards, and ran with all her
might. But crack! her horns
broke!
When the fox saw that he be
gan to skip about. “Oh, my
dear friend,” said he, “the car
rots belong to me now!”
“Not yet," said the goat, “you
have not succeeded in your task
yet. If you touch the carrots, I
will tear your side with the
stump of ray horn.” ’
The fox looked at the goat,
and said to himself: “She has
one left still which is almost
whole; she will tear my sides
with it.”
“Well,” said he, “I will knock
down my heap, then; it is noth
ing for me.”
The fox began to dig with his
forepaws, until he had made a
great whole in the ground close
to the heap. The stones soon fell
over into the hole, but, alas!
they fell over on the fox and
broke bis left paw.
Then the two looked at one
another—the one with her
broken horns, the other with his
broken paw.
“Run after the carrots," said
the goat, with a sneer, “I will
give them up to you.”
“I cannot,” answered the fox,
“my paw hurts me too much.
Take them yourself.”
“That is just what I am going
to do,” said the goat, and she
ran for the sack; but neither bag
nor carrots were to be seen; while
they were disputing, a man had
come along and carried all
away.
“Alas!” cried the goat, “how
stupid we have been! If we had
divided the treasure, we should
have kept whole—I my horns,
you your paw, and each of us
would have had more carrots
than we could eat.”—George-
Bancroft Griffith, in Michigan
Christian Advocate.
NOT DOING ANYTHING.
Twenty yeac^ ago a discour
aged young doctor in one of our
large cities was visited by his
father, who came up from a rural
district to look after his boy.
“Well, son,”hesaid, “how are
you getting along?”
“I’m not getting along at all,”
was the disheartened answer.
“I’m not doing a thing.”
The old man’s countenance
fell, but he spoke of courage
and patience and perseverance.
Later in the day he went with
his son to the “Free Dispen
sary,” where the young man had
an unsalaried position.
The father sat by, a silent but
intenseley interested sptcator,
while twenty-five poor unfortu
nates received help. The doctor
forgot his visitor, while he bent
his skilled energies to this task;
but hardly had the door closed
on the last patient, when the old
man burst forth: “I thought you
told me yeu were not doing any
thing,” he thundered. “Not
doing anything! Why, if I had
helped twenty-five people in a
month as much as you* have in
one morning I would thank God
that my life counted for some
thing.”
“There isn't any money in it,
though,” exclaimed the son,
somewhat abashed.
“Money!” the old man shouted,
stm scornfully. “What is money
incomparison with being of use
to your fellow men? Never mind
the money;you go right along
at this work every day. I'll go
back to the farm, and gladly
earn money enough to support
you as long as Hive.”
“That speech," I said to a
friend of mine, one who has
spent many years as a conspicu
ously successful teacher, “went
into the bones of the young doc
tor's life, and strengthened him
for a life of unselfish useful
ness.”
“Ah!” said the professor, “that
one speech was worth years of
text-book teaching? And yet it
was made without an instant’s
preparation.”
“Far from it,” I answet-ed
quickly. “It had taken sixty
years of noble living, struggling
against sin and self, pressing
forward in the paths of right
eousness, bearing the cross, fol
lowing hard after the Perfect
Man, to prepare that old Chris
tian to make this speech. Then
the moment came, and he was
ready to teach the glorious les
son.”—Our Young Folks.
February 6, 1902
FRITZ.
BY MARY LOUISA BUTLER.
“Oh, Fritzie, how sorry I am
that you should ever have
learned to hold a pipe in your
mouth? But then you are only
a dog. and mamma would say
that dogs do not know any bet
ter. >
“But suppose you should really
learn to smoke and use tobacco,
and no one should teach you
better, do you know what would
happen? Why you would soon
get to be nervous and fidgety,
and bark at every one who comes
to see mamma and me. Perhaps
some day you would bite Jennie
Pierce when she comes over
here; then what should 1 do?
“Now, if you were a boy, I
could make you understand just
how bad it is even to hold a pipe
in your mouth. Since you are a
dog I suppose you cannot under
stand one word I ray.
“1 heard mamma tell Georgie
last week that boys often learn
to smoke by at first making be
lieve do it, just as you are doing
now. After a time they are not
satisfied with an empty pipe, but
want something in it to make
real smoke. So if they have a
few pennies they buy tobacco,
and begin the terrible habit of
smoking that is so hard to leave
off.
“And then she said, ’Georgie
Barlow, if I ever know of your
even pretending to smoke I shall
punish you.' And I tell you, Mr.
Fritzie Dog, if I catch you with
a pipe in your mouth again I'll
punish you. If it makes boys
better to be punished, perhaps it
will dogs. At any rate, I shall
not play with you onebit today.”
While Alice Barlow had been
away for a visit, some naughty
boys had taught her pet dog
Fritz to pick up and hold a pipe
in his mouth. The first morning
she was at home he seemed to
think he must show her what he
had learned. This is why Alice
talked to her little dog so severe
ly-
The next day, when she was
at the kindergarten, these same
naughty boys coaxed Fritz out
of the yard and tried to teach
him to use tobacco in the pipe.
When Alice came home in the
afternoon she Tound him very
sick, He was soon put to bed
and given some bitter medicine.
Alico felt very sorry, but mam
ma said she thought the sickness