The Poorhouse Waif and His Divine Teacher: A True Story

by Isabel C. Byrum

Edwin could scarcely believe his ears, and when he found that no second offer was necessary, it was as though a great and heavy burden had been rolled from his heart. During the days that followed he endeavored to live up to the agreement that he had made to work faithfully for his master. Many times he thought of the meeting, and as often he asked himself: "Is there anything special that I can do to help in this matter? Is there anything that I ought to do so as to be better able to go through the operation?"

He even asked Mrs. Miller if she could think of anything more that he could do, but she, failing to understand his meaning, said: "No, there isn't much that you can do. The things about the camp-ground are pretty handy, and it's only a few miles away, and I will see to it that your clothes are clean and mended." But still Edwin was not satisfied. Every day he reviewed his conduct to see if there was any possible way that he could improve himself.

One evening his divine Teacher again came to his assistance. It was after supper, and Edwin was still in the summer-kitchen. The smoking-hour, too, was over, and his pipe and tobacco were on the shelf. Mrs. Miller had retired to her room in the large house for the night, and her husband was making his usual rounds about the place to see that all the pasture-fences were secure.

Sometimes when the horses and cows were trying to rid themselves of the tormenting flies and mosquitoes, they would loosen the rails of the fences by rubbing their itching sides against them. Thus an opening would often be made, through which, if not repaired, the entire herd might find their way and do much damage both to themselves and to the large fields of waving corn that were growing all around the pasture-land. For this reason it was necessary after the animals had quieted down for the night to see that everything was in good condition, and Mr. Miller would trust no one to do this chore but himself.

Seated in his accustomed place on the bench near the end of the long dining-table, Edwin, with both elbows upon the table, was resting his face upon his hands. Again he was thinking of the one great subject about which he was so seriously concerned. Suddenly he seemed not to be alone. Looking about him as though expecting to see some person standing near, he heard a voice seemingly from above his head, and he was told to listen.

When the voice of the tempter had spoken discouragingly on the way from Mr. Kunz's, Edwin had felt no fear, but now a fear that caused him to tremble crept over him. But when the voice in tender, loving tones said softly, "Do not be afraid, for I am your friend," he turned with eagerness to listen.

"You want to be prepared for heaven," the voice continued. "Now, tobacco-using is unbecoming and unclean in my eyes, and before you can get on the highway that leads to heaven, you must stop using tobacco."

Until then Edwin had not been told by a living creature that tobacco was not a food, or that it was unfit for the use of mankind, or unclean in the sight of God; but as he listened to the words of his divine Guide and Teacher, the great truth of the matter sank deep within his heart, and he had no thought or desire to dispute them. Neither did he stop to think or reason that his best friends Mr. and Mrs. Miller, Frank Kauffman, and Mr. Kunz were all using tobacco. Instead he arose and, going to the mantel, selected all his smoking-materials there, opened the grate, and dumped them one and all upon the few living coals that were still smoldering among the ashes. He also brought from his room in the large house a box of cigars, some pipes and cigar-holders, and threw them in upon the other things.

When Edwin, all unconscious of the dense smoke and the strong odor that were beginning to arise from the old-fashioned chimney, returned to his place by the table, he resumed his former position on the bench and endeavored to continue his meditation as it was before the revelation.

Outside the night was perfect. A bright moon looked down from its lofty height among the stars and revealed the farmer repairing a place in the fence-corner where the rails had been loosened. Scarcely had he finished the task, when a glance from the hollow in which he was busy toward the hill upon which his home was located, caused him to gasp and shudder with fear. Then with his nose in the air he began to inhale and said, "Why, that smells like tobacco-smoke." The time of night and the fact that the smoke was coming in great volumes from the chimney of the summer-kitchen made him think that the kitchen was on fire and that the tobacco on the mantel-shelf was causing the smoke.