November, 1941
T H E K I N G ’ S B U S I N E S S
419
Junior King's Business By MARTHA S. HOOKER , Member of Faculty, Bible Institute of Los Angeles
ing the gifts they had received, when a boy his own age, with a face almost as red as his bright red hair, stepped up to him and said breathlessly, as though he were' a bit frightened, ‘Would you come with me? I’ve got something for you.’ “Arthur followed wonderingly, and the. boy’ stopped at a clump of bushes and pulled from behind them, where he had kept it safely hidden, a crude - wooden thing that we would call a ‘scooter.’ He had made it himself, Arthur saw. “It was an entirely new plaything to him, but after a few spills he was having a grand time coasting as easily as his new friend. All too soon the sound of a bell reminded him it was tim| to be host again and bid his guests good-bye. He handed the scooter back with a sigh of reluctance. But the red- haired boy had lost all of his shyness, and shaking his mop of fiery hair de cidedly, he backed away saying ear nestly, ‘Oh, no! I made it on purpose for your birthday—I’ve been working on it two weeks, and say—’ he added proudly, ‘but I’m glad you like it!’ “The future earl of Wdntworth Hall stared speechless at his young friend. There was an 'inconvenient lump in his throat that kept him from answering for a moment, and then he laughed outright with pleasure. ‘It’s just the grandest present ever!’ he exclaimed. ‘And I take it on one condition—that you come back tomorrow and ride it with me!’ “That evening the earl looked a little anxiously across the table at his young son. ‘I’m afraid it was a pretty dull birthday,for you, Son,’ he said. “The boy’s honest eyes met his and glowed with pleasure. ‘It’s been a jolly good day, Father.’ But as he spoke he was not seeing the richly furnished room, or the table glittering with silver
A TWO-IN -ONE CHRISTMAS* B y F rances N oble P hair
A DASH through the gate—pig tails flying, eyes sparkling—a tumultuous rush at the. door, and Janice and Janet, “the Kirkland twins,” fairly spilled into the roomy old kitchen and filled it with joy and laughter, books and wraps, chatter and squeals of delight .until the crunching of fresh cookies brought a few moments of comparative quiet. Janice stopped eating long enough to ask, “Christmas cookies, Mumsie?” Mrs. Kirkland smiled and nodded. “ Christmas —. our birthday — double presents—hurrah!” cried Janet. “What do you think we’ll get if. Uncle Bob comes home?” Mrs. Kirkland’s mending dropped in her lap, and as she listened to the lively discussion that followed, she watched her little girls thoughtfully. She was remembering that on the very day these two were born, her heart had breathed an earnest prayer that from their early years the Lord Jesus, her own Lord, would be first in their hearts, too. Was that prayer being answered? “Mumsie,” Janet’s tone was coaxing, and she laid her cheek against her mother’s knee, “won’t you tell us a story now—maybe one of those stories that has a hidden meaning?” Seeing that their mother was about to agree, the twins settled themselves comfortably. Suddenly, a step sounded on the porch, and Janet jumped to open the door. “Oh, Bob!” she greeted the boy in overalls, “just in time for cookies and a ¿tory!” Quite as much at tyome as the girls t h e m s e l v e s , motherless twelve-year-old Cousin Bob strad dled a kitchen chair, munched a cookie, and listened with a lofty you-can’t-interest - a - big - fellow- like-me air. “This is a story from England,” Mrs. Kirkland began, “the story of Arthur the young lord and heir of the Earl of Wentworth Hall. He was just about twelve years old.” Janet and Janice looked know ingly at Bob, who grinned aiid for got he Wasn’t interested. “A r t h it r had been away at school for the past six years, but in spite of this, eachyear during that
time the old earl had planned a cele bration in honor of his son’s birthday so that the people who lived and worked on his great estate might be in the habit of remembering and giving honor to the boy who would some day take the old earl’s place, Arthur had looked forward to this big birthday celebra tion for a long time, and he could not help wondering a little, as *he dressed that morning, what kind of presents he would have. He remembered the little lambs and dogs and kittens the Children had. They would doubtless choose the things they knew he would like most, and there was a warm thrill of pleasure in his heart as he thought of the friend ly people on the estate. “He went happily down to greet the first guests, and it was very pleasant to have them come one by one and in little groups to wish him health and happiness and success, but after several hours had passed and they were all busy greeting each other and, as he noticed, giving gifts only to each other, a strange lonely feeling began to creep into his heart. “It was quite evident that they had come to think of it as their holiday, not his birthday, and although there was no hurt in his generous heart,, yet it made him feel left out of it all— very much alone. “He had just settled a quarrel be tween some small boys who were trad
and cut glass, nor even the hand some new wrist watch, his father’s gift, but the shining good com radeship and honest admiration in the eyes of a red-haired, freckle faced boy who had cared enough to make with his own hands some thing just to plea.se him—a gift that was a part of the new friend himself.” Bob broke the silence that fell on the little g r o u p by nodding wisely and saying, “Good story!” “Jolly good, Mumsie,” added Janet, but Janice sat very quiet with a puzzled, far-away look in her eyes. After the light was out and both girls were cozily tucked in bed that night, Janice asked, “What do you think it means, Janet?” "What means ?” murmured Janet drowsily. ‘ “Why, the story Mother told— It
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