A visitor to Amsterdam, wishing to hear the wonderful music of the chimes of St. Nicholas, went up into the tower of the church to hear it. There he found a man with wooden gloves on his hands, pounding on a keyboard. All he could hear was the clanging of the keys when struck by the wooden gloves, and the harsh, deafening noise of the bells close over his head. He wondered why the people talked of the marvelous chimes of St. Nicholas. To his ear there was no music in them, nothing but terrible clatter and clanging. Yet all the while there floated out over and beyond the city the most entrancing music. Men in the fields paused in their work to listen, and were made glad. People in their homes and travelers on the highways were thrilled by the marvelous bell tones which fell from the tower.
There are many lives, which to those
who dwell close beside them, seem to
make no music; they pour out their
strength in hard toil; they are shut up
in narrow spheres; they dwell amid
the noise and clatter of common task
work; they think themselves that they
are not of any use, that no blessing goes
out from their life; they never dream
that sweet music is made anywhere in
the world by their noisy hammering.
But out over the world, where the influence
goes from their work and
character, human lives are blest, and
weary ones hear, with gladness, sweet,
comforting music.
(2169)
NECESSITY AND PROGRESS
When God told Moses to speak to the
children of Israel and bid them go forward
there was another urgency to reenforce this
injunction. The chariots of Egypt were behind
them; they must go forward or die.
Has not the greater part of human
progress been due to necessities urging
from behind and below—hunger, necessity
for shelter, climates, hardships,
trials. By all these God has ever been
driving men up out of their Egypt of
sloth and slavery toward a higher destiny.
(2170)
Need of the World—See Love, the World's Need.
NEED, REFUSED IN THE HOUR OF
One of the most pathetic things in life is
seen sometimes in country towns in the
mountain regions of these United States—may
be in some farming regions, too.
The scene is laid in a country store of a Saturday night. The busy salesmen were waiting on many customers—customers who buy vast quantities of calico and chewing-tobacco and Scotch snuff and plowgear, and always on credit.
Pretty much everybody from all about is in town. The elders have brought the youngsters, and these sturdy infants stare with wide eyes at everything.
But in this busy gathering, far back in the corner, a man from the country is talking earnestly to one of the partners. The partner wears a heavy gold chain across his vest, and is in his shirt sleeves. He shakes his head, whittling, meanwhile, a bit of box.
This man's credit has run out. He is trying to persuade the merchant to carry him a little longer—just a little longer, but the merchant doesn't see it that way. He wants money.
He goes to his book and calls the man from the country and shows him the things written there. Then he leans back and lights a fat cigar triumphantly.
The would-be customer makes one more effort and turns sadly away. He takes two children with him, one by each hand, and slowly goes out.
"Ain't we goin' to buy nothin'?" asks one of them. A spasm of pain shoots across the father's face.
"Not jest now, boy," he says; "after a bit—just you wait. There'll be lots of boots' boy size left—lots of 'em."—Dallas News.
(2171)
Need, The World's—See Manliness.
NEEDS, MEETING CHILDREN'S
There is no more exceptional educational
institution in America than the Berry School
for mountain whites, near Rome, Ga., and
yet the whole work grew out of a little Sunday-school
that Miss Martha Berry established
in the mountains near Possum Trot,
Ga., less than ten years ago. At that time
Miss Berry was residing on an estate which
was all that was left of the fortune of the
