DEACON PITKIN’S FARM.
The lesson of faith.
“Well, daughter,” said the deacon, “it’s a pity we should go through all we do in this world and not learn anything by it. I hope the Lord has taught me not to worry, but just do my best, and leave myself and everything else in his hands. We can’t help ourselves,—we can’t make one hair white or black. Why should we wear our lives out fretting? If I’d a known that years ago, it would a been better for us all.”
“All for the best.”
“She’s allers sayin’ things is for the best, maybe she’ll come to think so about this,—folks gen’ally does when they can’t help themselves.”
Sympathy.
Eyes that have never wept cannot comprehend sorrow.