QUEER CREATURES.
THIS is a scene in Africa. Those queer creatures scampering up the tree, are monkeys, to be sure; the other big lizards are crocodiles, you see. The way of it was that one of the crocodiles was sleeping—or pretending to sleep—on the bank of the river, when along came a careless little monkey, and his eyes were not where they should have been, or they did not look sharply at this thing that seemed to be but a log; when, before he knew what he was about, this “log” opened his big mouth, and with a sudden flap of his tail, in went the thoughtless monkey. That was the end of that young monkey. That’s about the way the saloons swallow folks. Don’t go near them!
“But tell the rest. What did the mother monkey say?”
She was mad as—“a setting hen.” She shouted at the top of her voice, and a great army of monkeys came galloping to her to know what was the matter. Now one monkey knows just how to tell the others what’s the matter; so they all set up such a hue and cry as you never heard. They scolded and insulted the crocodile, and twitched their faces and shook their fists at him, and jabbered such a bedlam that all the crocodiles ran together to see what was to pay. Upon the bank out of the water they climbed, and with open mouths and loud hisses, hurried after the scampering monkeys; but those spry creatures bounded up that big high tree, and from the lofty limbs looked down and scolded with all their might and main, and again shook their fists and snapped their long finger-nails to show how they would tear every hair out of the crock’s hide if they could get a chance—if there were any hair.
It would have been better if they all, monks and crocks, had come kindly together and asked one another’s pardon and settled their differences, and signed a pledge never to eat or scold one another any more. Read this:
“We had a grand temperance rally here last night. The children marched around the neighborhood, before the meeting, with banner and song. The church was beautifully decorated with vines, branches of palm-trees, maidenhair ferns, calla lilies, white orchid blossoms, etc. The place was filled.... There were songs, dialogues, temperance catechism, temperance stories and speeches. Over twenty came forward and took the blue ribbon. One had been a ‘hard case.’ Among the natives pledging is almost equal to coming to Christ. . . . Every day began with a sunrise prayer meeting. A chorus of young people, the girls dressed in white, occupied the platform. They enjoy music.”
SCAMPERING UP THE TREE.
So writes Rev. Mr. Dorward of Umzumbe, Africa. You see there is a difference between the young folks of Africa and the monks and crocks. What is the difference? And which of the two meetings do you prefer?
L.
THE HARD TEXT.
(Matt. xiii. 57.)
YOU would think people would be proud of a neighbor who does well. They are often jealous of him. When he becomes very great they often are all the more jealous, and say hard things about him, and he must sometimes actually get away to get peace and respect. When Columbus told his neighbors he was sure he could get to the East Indies by sailing westward they laughed him to scorn. He asked his own nation for ships and men to sail away on a voyage of discovery. He got nothing but opposition. He was compelled to go away to Spain for honor and ships.
Jesus’ neighbors ought to have been proud of him; but they drove him away. They tried even to kill him, so jealous were they of him. But he got honor elsewhere. So it usually is. Do you honor him or drive him away?
L.