Yes, faith—faith in God, was the parable I was sent to teach, and I also have learned to know that, though the skies may be dark and the winds—oh, so cold! yet if we only wait, and trust Him, the sunshine will come at last, and the breath of heaven never visit us too roughly.
PARABLE THIRD.
THE FOXGLOVES' STRATAGEM—GRATITUDE.
e lived on the garden wall of an old-farmhouse, over which the vines grew in rare luxuriance, covering it with their climbing tendrils and leaves; and in the autumn the purple and white grapes peeped from beneath their leafy shelter, mocking the thirsty throats of the village lads who passed that way, and who looked longingly up at the ripe clusters.
It was a very old place, I am told, and had been inhabited by the same family for many successive generations. Fathers had tilled the soil, then laid aside the plough for ever. Sons had sprung up to take their place, and they too, in their turn, were gathered in, when the bearded grain was ripe for the sickle of the great 'Reaper, whose name is Death,' leaving the old homestead to others of the same name and race, who loved the home in which they were born, and wherein those they most cherished had lived and died.
The Swallows, too, loved it, returning year after year to their nests under the eaves, and from early dawn 'to dewy eve,' all through the warm summer days, flew hither and thither with swift, untiring wing, chasing each other, as it were, or teaching their young to fly. As to the Robins, they hopped in at the open door under the rustic porch, just as if they belonged to the place, and were sure of a welcome, which indeed they were! And that porch—what a cosy corner it was, with seats on either side, inviting weary feet to rest! the sunbeams were always playing bo-peep through the leaves which hung clustering around; the Honeysuckles and Clematis decking it, too, with their blossoms, scattering their delicious perfume the while. But I always thought the spot looked brightest when little Susie was there—she who was the very sunshine of the old home! And how they all loved her, from the white-headed grandfather down to the little ploughboy, who brought her all the poor motherless or sick creatures he found on the farm, were it but a half-fledged bird or a stray kitten, certain of her thanks, and a sweet smile; and as to her three big brothers, who had such influence over them as little Susie? for even when they were disputing as to whose turn it was to ride Brown Bess (the joint property of the children), Susie was always chosen umpire to decide the important question, and they abode by her decision.