“To-night we will pray God not to let that happen,”
said Aunt Margaret. “Is there room in the
car for me too, James? I haven’t seen one
of those little brook fish in years!”
James Jr. went to her and leaned against her chair.
“I got three in my pool. You may see mine!
I’ll give you one.”
“I’d love to see them,” said Aunt
Margaret. “I’ll go bring my hat.
But I think you shouldn’t give the fish away,
James. They belong to God. He made their
home in the water. If you take them out, you will
kill them, and He won’t like that. Let’s
just look at them, and leave them in the water.”
“Malcolm, the fish ‘belong to God,’”
said James, turning to his brother. “We
may play with them, but we mustn’t take them
out of the water and hurt them.”
“Well, who’s going to take them out of
the water?” cried Malcolm. “I’m
just going to scoot one over into father’s pool
to start him. Will you give him one too?”
“Yes,” said James Jr.
“The next money I earn, I shall send to the
war; but the first time I rake the lawn, and clean
the rugs, I’ll give what I earn to father, so
he will have more time to play with us. Father
is the biggest man in this city!”
“It may take a few days to get a new regime
started,” said father, “I’ve lived
only for work so long; but as soon as it’s possible,
my day will be so arranged that some part of it shall
be yours, boys, to show me what you are doing.
I think one day can be given wholly to going to the
country.”
With an ecstatic whoop they rushed James Minturn,
whose wide aching arms opened to them.
The Wheel of Life
“What are your plans for this summer, Leslie?”
asked Mr. Winton over his paper at breakfast.
“The real question is, what are yours?”
“I have none,” said Mr. Winton. “I
can’t see my way to making any for myself.
Between us, strictly, Swain has been hard hit.
He gave me my chance in life. It isn’t
in my skin to pack up and leave for the sea-shore
or the mountains on the results of what he helped me
to, and allow him to put up his fight alone.
If you understood, you’d be ashamed of me if
I did, Leslie.”
“But I do understand, Daddy!” cried the
girl. “What makes you think I don’t?
All my life you’ve been telling me how you love
Mr. Swain and what a splendid big thing he did for
you when you were young. Is the war making business
awfully hard for you men?”
“Close my girl,” said Mr. Winton.
“Bed rock close!”
“That is what cramps Mr. Swain?” she continued.
“It is what cramps all of us,” said Mr.
Winton. “It hit him with peculiar force
because he had made bad investments. He was running
light anyway in an effort to recoup. All of us
are on a tension brought about by the result of political
changes, to which we were struggling to adjust ourselves,
when the war began working greater hardships and entailing
millions of loss and expenses.”
