AUGUST 1, 1913 



Our Homes 



A. I. Root 



In his law doth he meditate day and night. — 

 Psalm 1:2. 



I have made another " discovery," and I 

 rather think it is a great discovery. Sup- 

 pose you try it and see. First let me say 

 that it seems to me that the older I grow 

 the busier I become — that is, there are more 

 things I want to do than I can get around 

 to. There are more of God's gifts I wish 

 to " investigate;" and for years past I have 

 been feeling that I could not waste a min- 

 ute of time. Mrs. Root often asks me to go 

 visiting among the neighbors. Well, if said 

 neighbors are like myself, and are explor- 

 ing God's gifts in the way of bees or chick- 

 ens or the garden, I am glad to visit them; 

 but I do not want to sit down on the porch 

 and talk about this, that, and the other. I 

 want to be doing something. 



My good friend Prof. Holden, in one of 

 his " corn talks," spoke of pulling up some 

 of the stalks that did not have any ears, 

 and using them for fodder, giving the rest 

 a better chance. He said a boy in his audi- 

 ence once suggested that these drones among 

 the corn were just standing around all sum- 

 mer long, " doin' nothin'." Now, there are 

 people in this world — yes, a good lot of 

 them, standing around with their hands in 

 their pockets during this beautiful month 

 of June doing nothing, like the useless 

 cornstalks. I could not stand that way of 

 living. It would kill me. I have to be 

 busy. I want my life to produce ears of 

 corn or something equivalent, that is good 

 for humanity. When it ceases doing that 

 I hope the great Father will " pull me up " 

 so as to give "others a better chance." Now 

 for my discovery. 



For fully forty years I have objected to 

 being obliged to sit still and do nothing. 

 Yes, before I was among the church people 

 I objected to seeing great audiences sitting 

 still until sendees begin — that is, if they 

 happen to come early. I used to tell Mrs. 

 Root I did not want to go to church until 

 things got under way; but she very much 

 objects to being late at any public meeting ; 

 and as each one of us stuck to our respec- 

 tive point there did not seem to be any 

 " common ground " other than being right 

 on the mark when meeting opened; and of 

 late we have tried to come to an agreement 

 that way. An electric automobile is a won- 

 derful help in that respect. I can read my 

 Sunday School Times until within three 

 minutes of church time; and even if our 

 bungalow is a little more than half a mile 

 from the church we can be there promptly 

 — that is, with the aid of the electric auto. 



I have been calling this beautiful " spi-y " 

 little auto one of God's gifts; but some of 

 you may insist that this is a gift from the 

 ingenious brain and skill of mankind. Well, 

 you can have it that way if you choose, for 

 God gave the wonderful brain and astonish- 

 ing skill of our best mechanics of this pres- 

 ent age. Do you ask why I do not put the 

 Sunday School Times in my pocket and 

 read it after I get to church, provided I get 

 there before senices are started? Well, I 

 have done that, both in Florida and Me- 

 dina. It has always been a question in my 

 mind whether one ought to be seen reading 

 a i^aper or, say, a letter while in church. 

 It is not exactly common, and I am not sure 

 that it ought to be. If evei-ybody knew I 

 was reading the Sunday School Times in- 

 stead of a daily paper (or a Sunday-morn- 

 ing paper), it might be better. Keep in 

 mind that I am always in front as close 

 to the good minister as I can get, principal- 

 ly on account of my deafness, but also be- 

 cause I have all my life wanted to get up 

 in close touch with the teacher, preacher, or 

 the boss; and I am sure I have been ben- 

 efited by so doing. I have no patience with 

 people who crowd in on the back seats as 

 far from the speaker as they can get. Our 

 own pastor has urged and exhorted people 

 to come up and fill the front seats first, and 

 leave the back seats for the timid ones or 

 strangers; but not half a dozen people, un- 

 less they were deaf like myself, heeded the 

 pastor's request. Mrs. Root would come 

 up well to the front were it not that she is 

 a fresh-air advocate. Sometimes I am in- 

 clined to call her a fresh-air fiend; but the 

 word " fiend " does not fit her in any re- 

 spect whatever. I might call her a fresh- 

 air angel, but she would object to that title 

 as much as to the other. 



Well, now we are getting close to my dis- 

 covery. My conscience has always troubled 

 me when I sat up in front reading the Sun- 

 day School Times or even that bright little 

 Sunday-school paper we have down in Flor- 

 ida at our Presbyterian Sunday-school call- 

 ed Forward. I have for years past carried 

 a good-sized Bible, with coarse print, that 

 I can read easily. Bro. Rood, the superin- 

 tendent of our Florida Sunday-school, asks 

 every morning, " How many of you have 

 brought a Bible ? " Well, I have always felt 

 ashamed when I have had no Bible to hold 

 up. One Sunday I picked up an old rusty 

 Bible that I found on the seats, and asked 

 him if that would not do. He shook his 

 head while the audience smiled. He said 

 he wanted everybody to bring his own copy 



