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Johnnie’s Boots

From Ailenroc’s Book, by Cornelia Alexander

Johnnie was pouting. Ignore the fact, if you choose; but pouting he was, and in a way that drove all the sunny brightness from his face and the joyous light from his eyes. His rosy lips were thrust out, and he had just as many wrinkles on his forehead as there was room for; and, being a broad forehead, it held a good many.

The little man had met with something that even we grown-up children do not like. He had met with a disappointment, but was not philosopher enough to face it bravely. His heart had been set on a new pair of boots, and his father had seen fit to refuse them to him. Johnnie’s boots were not worn out by any means; they only twisted over the heel a little, after the manner of boys’ boots, and a white spot or two suggested the breaking through of restless toes; but father thought they could be shined up a while yet. Johnnie differed with him, and took it out in pouting. Was ever a young man of nine years so mistreated? He glowered from his corner, after he had pushed little May and her sympathetic chatter away and had made her crack the white arm of Miss Dolly and cry over it till her pretty eyes were red. He watched his mother, and wondered how she could bear to see him in such trouble. Surely no boy in the round world had ever been treated so badly before; surely no boy was ever so miserable. Lizzie, his eldest sister, had really turned her face away as she left the room, lest he should see her laughing; but he did, and gulped it down with the rest.

He wondered what kind old grandfather thought of the way they all acted toward his grandson; but, being buried in his newspaper, possibly he did not think of it at all.

Suddenly grandpa threw down his paper, and said: “Dear, dear dear! Things were not so in my young days.” Read More

Hymn of the Week – Be Still, My Soul

Words by Katharina von Schlegel (1752)
Translated into English by Jane Borthwick (1855)
Music by Jean Sibelius (1899)
Sound recording from the Kleinwood singing

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heavenly friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord.
When disappointment, grief and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past
All safe and blessèd we shall meet at last.

Hymn of the Week – Psalm VIII

Poetry: From the 1912 Psalter
Music: Benjamin Bruce, 2010

This is a metrical psalm that I have put to music. I’m still working on the harmonies, but when it is complete I will post it here.

O Lord, our Lord, in all the earth
How excellent Thy name!
Thy glory Thou hast spread afar
In all the starry frame.

From lips of children, Thou, O Lord,
Hast mighty strength ordained,
That adversaries should be stilled
And vengeful foes restrained.

When I regard the wondrous heav’ns,
Thy handiwork on high,
The moon and stars ordained by Thee,
“O what is man?” I cry.

O what is man, in Thy regard
To hold so large a place?
And what the son of man that Thou
Dost visit him in grace?

On man Thy wisdom hath bestowed
A pow’r well nigh divine;
With honor Thou hast crowned his head
With glory like to Thine.

Thou hast subjected all to him,
And lord of all is he,
Of flocks and herds, of beasts and birds,
And all within the sea.

Thy mighty works and wondrous grace
Thy glory, Lord, proclaim.
O Lord, our Lord, in all the earth
How excellent Thy name!