“HEAVENLY CROWN” RICH

Elias Rich would kneel at night by the wooden

kitchen chair,

He would clutch the rungs and bow his head

and pray his bed-time prayer.

And his prayer was ever the same old plea,

repeated for two-score years:

“Oh, Lord Most High, please hear my cry

from this vale of sin and tears.

I hain’t no ’count and I hain’t done much that’s

worthy in Thy sight,

But I’ve done the best that I could, dear Lord,

accordin’ to my light.

I’ve done as much for my feller man as really,

Lord, I could,

Consid’rin’ my pay is a dollar a day and I’ve

earnt it choppin’ wood.

I’ve never hankered no great on earth for

more’n my food and roof,

And all of the meat that I’ve had to eat was

cut near horn or hoof;

But I thank Thee, Lord, that I’ve earnt my

way and I hain’t got ‘on the town,’

And when I die I know that I shall sartin wear

a crown.”

Whenever he mumbled his simple prayer in

the kitchen by his chair,

Aunt Rich would rattle the supper pans and

sniff with a scornful air.

She’d never “professed,” as the saying is, she

never had felt a “call,”

And she constantly prodded Elias with,

“’Tain’t prayer that counts, it’s sprawl.”

There are some who are born for the pats of

Life and some for the cuffs and whacks,

Elias fought the wolf of want as best he might

with his axe;

He even aided with scanty store some desolate

Tom or Jim,

But at last when his poor old arms gave out no

hands were reached to him.

Folks said that a man who was paralyzed re-

quired some special care,

And allowed that the poor farm was the place;

so they carried the old folks there.

’Twas a heavy cross for Elias’ wife but Elias

ne’er complained,

To all of her frettings he made reply: “When

our Heavenly Home is gained,

’Twill be the sweeter for troubles here and

though we’re on the town,

God keeps up There our mansion fair and He

has our golden crown.”

They were dreary years that Elias lived, one

half of his body dead,

He sat in his cold, bare, town-farm room and

patiently spelled and read

The promise his old black Bible gave, and then

he’d lift his eyes

And look right up through the dingy walls to

his mansion in the skies.

They mockingly called him “Heavenly

Crown” when he talked of his faith, but he

Smiled sweetly ever and meekly said, “I know

what I can see!”

When he died at last and the parson preached

above the stained, pine box,

He said, “Perhaps this simple faith was a bit

too orthodox;

Perhaps allowance should be made for the

metaphors divine

And yet, my friends, I’ll not presume to make

such province mine.

Though in that Book the highest thought can

find transcendent food,

’Tis primer, too, for the poor and plain, the

unlearned and the rude.

And so I say no man to-day should seek to tear

it down,

Nor flout the homely, honest soul that claims

its golden crown.”

Friends placed above Elias’ grave a plain,

white marble stone,

And months went by. Then all at once ’twas

seen that there had grown

Upon the polished marble slab a shading that,

’twas said,

Took on a shape extremely like Elias’ shaggy-

head.

Then soon above the shadowy brows a crown

was slowly limned,

And though Aunt Rich scrubbed zealously the

thing could not be dimmed.

She always scoffed Elias’ faith without rebuke

through life

But now, the neighbors all averred, Elias

braved his wife.

For though with brush and soap and sand she

scrubbed and rubbed by day,

The figure seemed to grow each night and

those there are who say .

That many a time when the moon was dim a

wraith with ghostly skill

Wrought there with spectral brush and limned

that picture deeper still.

And there it is unto this day and strangers

passing by

Turn in and stand above the mound to gaze

with awe-struck eye,

And wonder if Elias came from Heaven steal-

ing down

To mutely say in this quaint way that now he

wears his crown.