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T H E K I N G ’ S
B U S I N E S S
January 1925
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F I N E ----,------------------:— :----<- G O L D OR TH E P E A R L OF G R E A T P R I C E JO SEPH INE HOPE WESTERVELT Î
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There is no place in all th e world so sweet to th e child of God as th e will of God. No m a tte r how g re a t th e service, no m a tte r how well spoken of by men, it is all as wood, h ay and stubble if outside of th e w ill of God. CHAPTER ONE B illie Bob and B lue B ird - OME, here, B luebird, you can hop about here and look for worms, and I’ll build us a nest over in the corner. I have a whole basket of straw th a t cook saved for me, which will make us a cozy n est.” L ittle Billie Bob was calling out w ith a sh rill voice to a tiny, golden-haired lassie whose rea l name was Louise Birdsey. B u t she was not able to speak her name cor rectly. When little Billie Bob first moved next door to her, and when he asked her name she said it was “Lou B irdie.” Billie Bob had ju st retu rn ed from his g randp aren ts’ coun try home and was much interested in a p air of bluebirds he had watched th a t summer, and he promptly called his new little playmate “B luebird.” The name was so appropriate for th e flaxen-haired, blue-eyed little lady, who so often wore delicate blue dresses and hat, the older folks soon took up the word, and “B luebird” then and th e re afte r became her name. “No, I’m not going to play birds any more, Billie Bob. L et’s play dolls and doll house,” said the little girl. But when she saw the downcast look of th è little boy, she amended her statem ent. ' “ ’Cept ITI play till the n est is done, and then you can tak e off your red tie and be ju st Billie Bob ’stead of Robin R edbreast, and I ’ll be a little girl Bluebird instead of a bird, bluebird.” So once more they hopped about on the back lawn, rais ing and lowering th e ir arm s in w inglike fashion, and chirp ing as they fancied th e birds would do. They lived in Brooklyn, in handsome brown stone fron t houses, all ju st alike, a solid block of them , th e ir fron t steps leading to the street. But in th e back each house had a generous piece of lawn bounded by a high board fence. Billie Bob and Blue bird lived for months next, door to each other before they became acquainted through th e loosening of a board in the fence,’and in tim e the grown folks cut a tiny gate between the two backyards, and now rarely a day passed th a t the two little playmates were not together, except when they were away on vacation trips. Billie Bob’s real name was W illiam Robinson Morehouse, and because of his fondness for b righ t red ties his fath er had laughingly called him “Robin R edbreast” whenever th e little fellow wore one. The name pleased, the fancy of the little boy, and always when he wanted to play “birds,” he begged for a red tie, and in im agination he became a cheery Robin. His favorite game was “ birds,” while B luebird’s game was “dolls,” and “doll house.” In tim e the straw nest was done and both little people were so interested th a t it was w ith difficulty they were per suaded to come in to lunch. “There, Billie Bob, we for- gotted to play dolls, and now we can’t play fornever,”
wailed little B luebird, as reluctan tly she was led in. Sob erly, Billie Bob though t of her disappointm ent, and called to her as he entered th e back of the house, regardless of the fact th a t the little girl was already in h er home. “Never mind, Bluebird, we’ll play ‘dolls’ first next tim e.” Billie Bob’s fath e r was th e popular pastor of a near-by church, and th e Birdsey fam ily were his parishioners. W il liam Morehouse had always been popular, from his boyhood up. Generous to a fault, happy hearted, handsome and lov ing, he made friends wherever he w ent when, during his college years, he became a Christian and took m inisterial train ing he carried th e same tra its w ith him and became th e idol of his people. He was now pastor of a church of wealthy members; he him self came of well-to-do parents, so his friends were surprised when he devoted him self to th e church. Bjit he was deeply interested in men, and wherever he met them , on th e street, in stores, on cars, he spoke freely to others about th e things of etern al interest. His enthusiasm in Christian things led him to offer him self as a m issionary to South America, and he was happy when his application was accepted by th e m ission board. But he tu rn ed back from the call when wife, his parents, and his, parishioners persuaded him not to go. Such a man as he was, so talented, was needed a t home, th ey told him. His wife plainly told him th a t she would never go to South America or any other place as a m issionary’s wife, so he m ight ju st as well dismiss th e th o u g h t forever, while his fath er hinted strongly th a t he would leave his name out of his will, and so W illiam Morehouse laid his call aside and threw himself into his church a t home. When, our narrativ e begins the pastor and his people were planning to build a new church building, the old one was outgrown and ra th e r shabby looking, and now sufficient money had been collected to begin on the new handsome edifice. Today Mr. Morehouse was to meet th e financial board and tu rn over th e funds, w ith which he had been en tru sted as trea su rer of the building committee. Myrtle Morehouse did not make an ideal p asto r’s wife. She was handsome and loved handsome clothes although she had come from a home where poverty was well-known. She was bu t a nom inal Christian, and never understood her husband’s devotion to, his work. She continually nagged him, trying to persuade him to get out into tn e money making world. A lthough she loved her husband, she felt th a t his talen ts were being wasted in such service and she was doing her best to get him into a real place in th e world. As th e evening of th is day drew to a close, Myrtle More house felt an unaccountable restlessness. Will had gone up to his fa th e r’s summer home n ear Providence, Rhode Island, two days ago, and she had expected him to re tu rn th a t morning at the -latest. B u t he had not yet appeared. “Mamma, when will papa come, isn ’t it time now? I can’t see him. I w ant him now.” “ Goodness, child, come away from th a t window, you will make your nose perfectly flat if you stand th ere much (Continued on page 44)
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