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DOUBTFUL FICTION.A mother and daughter walked along a country road. The daughter carried a modern novel, the pages of which ran into the hundreds.A great moral, or great truth, was contained within. The daughter spoke of the truth conveyed by the famous writer through the medium of the pages, but the mother did not approve of the method of teaching even truth. It was not that she doubted the truth was there. She knew the teaching of the book was not evil. The book was the story of erring human nature. It was realistic. It portrayed the temptations, the sine and vices of some of God’s people. The daughter said she read only for the great truth it contained.As they walked they passed a barn yard. Oattle walked deep in mud and filth. The air was filled with sicken ing odors.The mother plucked a rose growing by the wayside. She held it towardher daughter. “Is it not beautiful?’’ she asked.“It is perfect,” answered the daugh ter.The mother cast the rose from her into the midet of the mud and filth of the barnyard, and bade her daughter go and pick it up.The daughter, instead, lifted up her dainty skirts and walked away. She preferrred clean shoes to the rose.“It yet is a perfect rose,” remarked the mother.“But I must wade through filth for it.”••It is still fragrant.”“True, but not fragrant enough to kill the odor of the barnyard that will cling to me.”The mother said no more, but walked on. The daughter followed. The mother glanced back. The book in pieces, was flung into the mire.-J^an K. Baird.
Newspaper Details
The Progressive Farmer
Raleigh, North Carolina, US
Tue, Nov 28, 1899
Page 4
Full Page
Clipped by
Loretta C.
USA 12 Sep 2021
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