THE GOODLY FELLOWSHIP

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 77, Issue 153, 30 June 1934, Page 4

THE GOODLY FELLOWSHIP

AN OLD-TIME STORY (By 11 Mother Macbree. ”) If you are lonely, if you are ill, troubled. discouraged, write a letter to ‘ ‘ Silent Peter ” or to “ Mother MachreV care the “Chronicle” Office. Wanganui, when their friendship and there will be advice placed freely at your service.

J ear People,— The other day I saw a quaint old vooden cradle, complete with baby in ieecy wrappings and mother gently □eking it while she crooned softly to he occupant. How seldom one sees a : radio nowadays I The last one I saw •as in our old nursery. 12.000 miles .way and nearly as many years ago. can see that old mahogany < radio till, the glow frc-in the nursery lire lancing mysteriously over its surface, :he shadows flying around it swiftly kJ incessantly. I can see my mother rated by the fire, sweet and beautiul in her shiny dress, her foot on the ocker of the cradle, myself on a rshion at her feet. Every day, just nost delicious, my mother used to □me up to the nursery to rock the

•ne single story that she told me have ! ever forgotten; and now I tell them, u my own turn, through the radio and n magazines and newspapers, to other beautiful of all the stories that my nothe* over told me. as pDc rocked lie cradle and stroked my hair and nzed at the fire, used to start like this: Once upon a time ; There was a wondcn'ul iTmec who ii\ed and ruled in one of the provinces Ireland. This was a long, long t'-me ago. when people were rough and wild; but this beautiful I’rmce was not wild. He was kind ana gentle to all, oven to the wicked people who u cd to come sometimes to stay at his castle. New this Prince’s name was Co-Nan; and once when he was riding ju his horse through the forest nea 4 his castle, a tree fell uown, right across his path. One of the heavy branches struck him and knocked him from his horse. His people ran up to him, fearing he might be dead. They found, however, that the falling tree bad made a big hole in his head and that he was suffering very great pain. The cloverest doctors of the day were called in to see him, and tney made a strong band to go right around CoXan’s head, so that the hole might not get any bigger. Always afterwards Co-Nan had to keep very quiet and very still. He could not go. for any quick gallops, c-r for swims, or for runs, or anything like that. Bo he went on living for a long time, lookng well after his people and always being kind to everyone. And always he kept very quiet and very still and very calm, because of his poor hurt head. The doctors knew tnat if the hole got any bigger, beautiful Prince v.'o-Nan would die. The Vifeion. One day, Co-Nau was seated by his fire (something like our own nursery lire, my mother would tell me), with one of his faithful servants in actendun.ee; when all at once, he started up and stared anxiously at tuo lire. Let me go! Let me got ” he cried out, in a voice of anguish. 1 ‘Master, master! called ats faithful servant. Try not to De so much distressed. Your head will De worse ami you will die! ” I see Him! ” cried Co-Nan. Who He is, I do not know; but He is noble and beautiful, and they are nailing His hands and His feet to a ' Toss! They are taunting Him and torturing Him! I must go to His aid and fight for Him! Master, Master, 1 come! I come! I come! And Co-Nan sprang into the air; .lie wound in his head became worse, ihe band around his head became unloosed, and Co-Nan entered neaven, Land in hand with the Great Master Whose crucifixion he had seen in a vision. For Co-Nan died In the year . 3 A.D. and the noble Man Whose crucifixion he had seen in his vision was Jesus, the Friend of little children. Never once did I hear my mother utter a word of complaint regarding the wet patch that always appeared on her shiny gown, just where my eyes had been pressed before she picked me up on to her knees, to tell me that the most beautiful pr.it efihe story was that Jesus and Co-Nan had not 'really died at all, but tnat they are still both alive, and that Jesus is very near to us all the time. Av lien 1 was safely tucked up in bed, all my tears would go away, and I would lie full of peace and happiness all j | / long, within the Arms that arc < more tender than my own motiier’s, and I would know the truth of what she had told me—that tbcre is no death! I wish I could tell this story to every little girl in New Zealand, m just the way my mother used to tell it to me. The comfort of it all has never left me, although I am an old lady now. If you have a tittle girl who would like to have some of my stories to read, ask her to write a little letter to me and tell me just what she likes best to hear about, and I will write her a special little story all for herself, in a letter. Always your affectionate MOTHER MACHBEE. GOING OUT TO-NIGHT? At night physical resistance is low and colds are easily contracted. There's a wise precaution —Baxter s Lung Preserver. Colds and chest troubles have no chance against “Baxter’s.” This rich, warming, soothing remedy relieves dryness, soreness and ! huskiness. “Baxter’ss quickly cuts ■lilegm and clears out a cough. The :,:iie properties promote quick recover. Buy a 4/6, 2/6 or 1/6 bottle of ‘Baxter’s” from any chemist or store. -Advt.