The Seeker | Page 6

said go up thou Baldhead.
They said it Twice one after the other and so Elisha got mad right away
and turned around and cursed them good in the name of the Lord and
so 2 She Bears come along and et up 42 of them for Elisha was a holy
prophet of God and had not ought to of been yelled at. So of course the
mothers would Take on very much When they found their 42 Children
et up but I think that we had ought to learn from this that these 42 Little
ones was not the Elected. It says in our catchism God having out of his
mere good pleasure elected some to everlasting life. Now God being a
Presbiterian would know these 42 little ones had not been elected so
they might as well be et up by bears as anything else to show forth his
honour and glory Forever Amen. It should teach a Boy to be mighty
carful about kidding old men unless he is a Presbiterian. I spelled every

word in this right.
"Mr. Allan Delcher Linford."
The second paper, which the old man now held long before him, was
partly printed and partly written with a lead-pencil, whose mark was
now faint and now heavy, as having gone at intervals to the writer's lips.
As the old man read, his face lost not a little of its grimness.
"BEARS
"It teaches the lord thy God is baldheaded. I ask my deer father what it
teeches he said it teeches who ever wrot that storry was baldheaded. He
says a man with thik long hair like my deer father would of said o let
the kids have their fun with old Elisha so I ask my deer mother who
wrot this lesson she said God wrot the holy word so that is how we
know God is baldheaded. It was a lot of children for only two 2 bears. I
liked to of ben there if the bears wold of known that I was a good child.
mabe I cold of ben on a high fense or up a tree. I climd the sor aple tree
in our back yard esy.
"By Bernal Linford, aged neerly 8 yrs."
Carefully he put back both papers with the mother's letter, his dark face
showing all its intricate net-work of lines in a tension that was both
pained and humorous.
Two fresh souls were given to his care to be made, please God, the
means of grace by which thousands of other souls might be washed
clean of the stain of original sin. Yet, if revolt was there--revolt like his
daughter's and like his own? Would he forgive as his own father had
forgiven, who had called him back after many years to live out a
tranquil old age on the fortune that father's father had founded? He
mused long on this. The age was lax--true, but God's law was never lax.
If one would revolt from the right, one must suffer. For the old man
was one of the few last of a race of giants who were to believe always
in the Printed Word.

CHAPTER III
THE CULT OF THE CANDY CANE
When the littler boy looked fairly into the frosty gray of that Christmas
morning, the trailed banner of his faith was snatched once more aloft;
and in the breast of his complacent brother there swelled the conviction
that one does ill to flaunt one's skepticism, when the rewards of belief
are substantial and imminent. For before them was an array of gifts
such as neither had ever looked upon before, save as forbidden treasure
of the few persons whose immense wealth enables them to keep
toy-shops.
The tale of the princely Saint was now authenticated delightfully. That
which had made him seem unreal in moments of spiritual laxity--the
impenetrable secrecy of his private life--was now seen to enhance
manyfold his wondrous givings. Here was a charm which could never
have sat the display before them had it been dryly bought in their
presence from one of the millionaire toy-shop keepers. For a wondering
moment they looked from their beds, sputtering, gibbering, gasping,
with cautious calls one to the other. Then having proved speech to be
no disenchantment they shouted and laughed crazily. There followed a
scramble from the beds and a swift return from the cold, each bearing
such of the priceless bits as had lain nearest. And while these were
fondled or shot or blown upon or tasted or wound up, each according to
its wonderful nature, they looked farther afield seeing other and ever
new packages bulk mysteriously into the growing light; bundles
quickening before their eyes with every delight to be imagined of a
Saint with epicurean tastes and prodigal