He said he had lived here many
years and that his companion had died eight years before,
leaving him very lonely. His eyesight was failing, and he told
us that he had neither horses nor cows, pigs nor chickens, dogs
nor cats, to keep him company. "Mentally, physically and
financially, I don't amount to very much any more," he said. As
we looked at his bending, tottering form and noted his failing
vision, we saw that physically he was not one of Nature's
successes; while the mossy shingles thatching his humble
dwelling proclaimed that he had not much of this world's goods.
"Here," said he, "I have dwelt many years, telling strangers how
to get to Yellow Springs and others the way to go to the devil,
which is just to keep on the wrong road and keep disregarding
the sign-posts in God's Word."
Then, thought we, how necessary it is early in life to have some
objective to reach and keep on the straight road, never turning
to the right or left although siren voices call to easier and
fairer ways or gates of idleness swing open to lure the careless
wayfarer on the road of life and steal from him unawares its
golden opportunities. Thanks, dear old man, for the lesson you
have taught. May you live many more years, if only to warn the
sojourner upon the thorny road of life to set his face toward
the distant city, that is only reached by the main highway of
noble aims and self denial.
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