Finger Posts on the Way of Life | Page 7

T.S. Arthur
John!" I turned my head as the maiden's sweet voice
reached my ear. She was passing through the gate into the road, and, in
the next moment, had taken hold of the lad and drawn him away from
the animal. No strength was exerted in this; she took hold of his arm,
and he obeyed her wish as readily as if he had no thought beyond her
gratification.
And now that soft hand was laid gently on the pony's neck, and a single
low word spoken. How instantly were the tense muscles relaxed--how
quickly the stubborn air vanished.
"Poor Dick!" said the maiden, as she stroked his neck lightly, or softly
patted it with a child-like hand.
"Now, go along, you provoking fellow!" she added, in a half-chiding,
yet affectionate voice, as she drew upon the bridle. The pony turned
toward her, and rubbed his head against her arm for an instant or two;
then, pricking up his ears, he started off at a light, cheerful trot, and
went on his way as freely as if no silly crotchet had ever entered his
stubborn brain.

"What a wonderful power that hand possesses!" said I, speaking to my
companion, as we rode away.
He looked at me for a moment as if my remark had occasioned surprise.
Then a light came into his countenance, and he said, briefly--
"She's good! Everybody and every thing loves her."
Was that, indeed, the secret of her power? Was the quality of her soul
perceived in the impression of her hand, even by brute beasts! The
father's explanation was, doubtless, the true one. Yet have I ever since
wondered, and still do wonder, at the potency which lay in that
maiden's magic touch. I have seen something of the same power,
showing itself in the loving and the good, but never to the extent as
instanced in her, whom, for a better name, I must still call "Gentle
Hand."
A gentle touch, a soft word. Ah! how few of us, when the will is strong
with its purpose, can believe in the power of agencies so apparently
insignificant! And yet all great influences effect their ends silently,
unobtrusively, and with a force that seems at first glance to be
altogether inadequate. Is there not a lesson for us all in this?

WILL IT PAY?

"I WANT an hour of your time this morning," said Mr. Smith, as he
entered the counting-room of his neighbour, Mr. Jones.
"Will it pay?" inquired Mr. Jones, smiling.
"Not much profit in money," was answered.
Mr. Jones shrugged his shoulders, and arched his eye-brows.
"Time is money," said he.

"But money isn't the all-in-all of life. There's something else in the
world besides dollars."
"Oh yes; and the man that has the dollars can command as much of this
'something else' that you speak of as he pleases."
"I'm not so sure of that," replied Mr. Smith. "I can tell you something
that money will not procure."
"Say on."
"A contented mind."
"I'll take that risk at a very low percentage, so far as I am concerned,"
answered Mr. Jones.
"But, as to this hour of my time that you ask? What is the object?"
"You remember Lloyd who used to do business on the wharf?"
"Yes; what of him? I thought he died in New Orleans a year ago."
"So he did."
"Not worth a dollar!"
"Not worth many dollars, I believe. He was never a very shrewd man,
so far as business was concerned, though honourable and kind-hearted.
He did not prosper after leaving our city."
"Honourable and kind-hearted!" returned Mr. Jones, with a slight air of
contempt. "Such men are as plenty as blackberries. I can point them out
to you by the dozen in every square; but it does not pay to be on too
intimate terms with them."
"Why?"
"You are very apt to suffer through their amiable weaknesses."

"Is this your experience?" inquired Mr. Smith.
"My experience is not very extensive in that line, I flatter myself," said
Mr. Jones; "but I know of some who have suffered."
"I was speaking of Mr. Lloyd."
"Yes--what of him?"
"I learned this morning that his widow arrived in our city yesterday,
and that she needs friendly aid and counsel. It seems to me that those
who knew and esteemed her husband ought not to regard her with
indifference. I propose to call upon her and inquire as to her needs and
purposes, and I want you to accompany me."
"Can't do it," answered Mr. Jones, very promptly.
"Why not?"
"It won't pay," returned Mr. Jones.
"I don't expect it to pay in a business sense," said Mr. Smith; "but,
surely, humanity has some claim to consideration."
"Humanity! humph. Humanity don't pay, Mr. Smith; that's my
experience. I've
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