SERMONS AND WOODBOXES
"God helping me, I'll do it!" he cried softly. "I'll tell all my Toms I know they'll be glad to fill that woodbox! I'll give them work to do, and I'll make them so full of the very joy of doing it that they won't have time to look at their neighbors' woodboxes!" And he picked up his sermon notes, tore straight through the sheets, and cast them from him, so that on one side of his chair lay "But woe unto you," and on the other, "scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!" while across the smooth white paper before him his pencil fairly flew—after first drawing one black line through "Matthew twenty-third; 13—14 and 23."
Thus it happened that the Rev. Paul Ford's sermon the next Sunday was a veritable bugle-call to the best that was in every man and woman and child that heard it; and its text was one of Pollyanna's shining eight hundred:
"Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, ye righteous, and shout for joy all ye that are upright in heart."
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