has told us once for all in the divine book, and then He wrops himself in the Everlastin' Silence and leaves us to our own convictions, our own sense of duty to Him. He makes us afraid to disobey Him. His love constrains us, our sense of duty holds us (a good deal of the time) and we try (some of the time) to do right for the Right's sake, and because of the completeness and constancy of the love and tender pity broodin' over us.
Now, I have often wondered what we would do if our Heavenly Father nagged at us as some parents do at their children, if every time we make a miss-step, or a mistake, owin' to the blindness of our ignorance, or our waywardness, if He kep' naggin' at us, and bringin' us up short, and threatenin' us with punishment, and twitched us about and pulled our ears, and sot us down in corners, and shet us up in dark closets, and sent us to bed without our supperses, and told us to, "Shet up instantly!" and etcetery. I wondered how long we would keep our love and reverence for Him.
Now, a father and mother are to their children the controlling power, the visible Deity of their lives. They stand in the High Place in their souls. Let 'em tremble and quail if they don't hold that high place reverently, thoughtfully, prayerfully. The making or the marring of a life, a endless, immortal life, is in their hands, let 'em tremble at the thought.
Jack's mouth is a good natered one more'n half the time, most all the time, when he is down on the farm with Josiah and me (he loves to be there). It is quite a big mouth, but none too big, not at all, with red lips, the upper one kinder short, and the ends curl up in a dretful sort of a laughin', roguish way. But them curls can droop right down and the lips quiver like a baby's*
