NORTH SHORE BREEZE 
MANCHESTER, MASS., FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1908. 
Two Brothers. . 
A Twice-Told Tale. 
By J. A. Torrey. 
Two sons there were of old, the Scriptures tells us, 
One prodigal, one jealous. 
And eke the father, generous and kind, 
Whose pardoning love was to their failings blind, 
Yet wrought in both a better heart and mind. 
A Certain Man, so runs the parable, 
Had but two sons and loved them passing well. 
The younger son unto the father said, 
** Give me the goods [| have inherited.’’ 
And the fond father, grudging not but giving, 
Divided freely unto him his living. 
And so not many days thereafter, he 
His journey took unto a far countree. 
But soon in that far land to which he hasted 
His substance wasin riotous living wasted. 
And having spent the wealth at his command, 
There rose a mighty famine in the land, 
And he full soon began to be in want. 
Forlorn, forsaken, pinched with hunger gaunt, 
Hope well-nigh gone, unhappiest of men, 
He joined himself untoa citizen 
Of that starved land to feed accursed swine! 
Yet still with toil and hunger he did pine, 
And fain would fill his belly with the husks 
The unclean beasts devoured with gleaming tusks. 
Sad was indeed his miserable state, 
And, musing long upon his wretched fate, 
He came at last unto himself, and said, 
** Within my father’s house is ample bread, 
And meanest slaves with plenty there are fed. 
Although I am disgraced and fallen so low, 
I will arise and to my father go, 
And unto that dear father I will say— 
’Gainst thee I’ve sinned and grieved thy love away. 
No longer worthy to be called thy son, 
I'll be thy slave and at thy bidding run.’’ 
Then he arose, and though with toil bespent, 
Famished and faint, his weary way he went, 
Until he saw, on the horizon’s rim, 
The old home towers against the twilight dim. 
But sooner did the father’s eye see him, 
Who, filled with joy, ran out with eager feet 
And beating heart his erring son to greet, 
Kissed his dear face and fell upon his neck. 
It was his own dear son, alas, a wreck! 
Then said the son, ‘“ Oh, father, in Heaven’s sight 
- [’ve surely sinned and done thy love despite, 
And am not worthy to be called thy son 
5, SF 
Then spake the father to the servants, “‘ Run, 
Run with all speed, and hither quickly bring 
The costliest robes; put on his hand the ring; 
Bring softest sandals for his bleeding feet, 
And kill the fatted calf that we may eat 
And make us merry; for this, my son, was dead 
And is alive again!’’ The servants sped. 
O Sinner, wandering far, when wilt thou learn 
That thus o’er thee the Father’s heart doth yearn! 
Wilt thou return? 
And now the elder son was in the field, 
Nursing dark thoughts, ’ gainst all compassion sealed. 
He, faring homeward, near the house advancing, 
Heard the blithe sounds of music and of dancing. 
With bitter passions in his bosom pent, 
He called a servant, asking what it meant; 
Who thus replied: ‘* Thy-brother lost is found, 
Thy father hath received him safe and sound, 
And we have killed for him the fatted calf; 
This joy and feasting is on his behalf.’’ 
Then was he angry and would not go in, 
But stopped his ears against the merry din. 
His father then—with tears his eyes did swim--- 
Came out to meet him and entreated him. 
Then, answering, said he to his father, ““Lo, 
These many years I serve, as thou dost know, 
And I have ever done as thou hast bid, 
Yet never hast thou given me a kid 
For merry-making. But when this, thy son, 
Who hath disgraced us and to ruin run, 
When he hath come, thou hast on his behalf 
Made him a feast and killed the fatted calf!’’ 
Then said the weeping father, “‘Son of mine, 
Still thou art with me. All I have is thine. 
With feast and merry-making it is meet 
That thy returning brother we should greet. 
Therefore with gladness shall the day be crowned; 
The dead is living and the lost is found.’’ 
We boast our freedom from outbreaking sin, 
While yet the heart may be most foul within. 
What blacker crime ’gainst Heaven and in men’s sight, 
Than envoy, jealousy and cruel spite! 
If, Lord, by these my soul should be defiled 
I am not worthy to be called thy child. 
Our Father, by whose grace alone we live, 
Ere thou forgive me teach me to forgive. 
