168 THIRTIETH ANNUAL REPORT OF THE 



and learn that there are others who need light, cheer and 

 sympathy. 



In contrast are two women, one below here in this charming 

 valley receives into her home a few summer boarders. Among 

 them a young lady whose eyes had been opened, whose heart 

 had been cheered, and whose life had been sweetened by na- 

 ture. At the close of one August afternoon this lady was sit- 

 ting under a tree, entranced with the glory of the fading day, 

 the stretches of yellow fields, the darkening woods, the pur- 

 pling peaks, all caressed by the sun angels of the eventide, 

 and above all the gorgeous panoply of gold and blue, and 

 purple and crimson with which the sun attires itself in final 

 disappearance. The landlady seeing her boarder gazing in- 

 tently westward rudely interrupted the lady's reverie b}~ re- 

 minding her that there were no apples on cherry bushes. 



Above here in the same valley a lady gazed up the long 

 stretch of dusty road and saw a drove of cattle coming down. 

 Behind them, running hither and thither, followed a boy. 

 When opposite the house and as the cattle were loitering in 

 the shade of the trees, he came to the door and asked for a 

 glass of water. The lady invited him in and gave him some- 

 thing that is always dear to a boy's heart — a piece of apple 

 pie and a glass of milk. She learned that he was an orphan 

 and was working his way to Boston where he hoped to find 

 employment. On his departure she gave him a testament 

 and her blessing in kind words. Several years afterwards 

 the Young Men's Christian Association of Boston, employed 

 some young men to hold gospel meetings during their summer 

 vacations. Into this same community a young man came, 

 stood up, read from a little testament, and spoke warmly to 

 those present. After the meeting he sought the home in 

 question and there expressed his gratitude to the woman who 

 years before spoke to him kind words and gave him a moth- 

 er's blessing. 



So, too, one can yield to the hard conditions of home life 

 and neither see beauty not feel any sympathy, or can keep 

 tender, sweet and thoughtful. It is in such a home that the 

 spirit of love dwells and whose memory is ever fresh and 

 fadeless. 



So the fugitive years go hurrying by and the decadent days 

 come on when life's learning is mildewed in the mind and its 

 experiences merely a tale, when the spur to ambitious zeal be- 

 comes dull and earthly gains corrode and waste ; when the 

 " bane and blessing, the pain and pleasure " are all past, then, 

 just as David sighed for a draught from the old home well at 

 Bethlehem, so do the affections turn back and in the dim 

 chambers of the heart there will still remain the remembrance 



