And the poor little seeds murmured:--
``How cruel to complain! Are we not doing our
best? Have we let one drop of moisture pass by
unused? Are we not striving every day to be
ready for the hour of breaking forth? Are we
idle? How cruel to complain!''
But of all this the Master of the Harvest heard
nothing, so the gloom did not pass from his face.
Going to his comfortable home he repeated to his
wife the dark words, that the drought would ruin
the harvest, for the corn was not yet sprung up.
Then his wife spoke cheering words, and taking
her Bible she wrote some texts upon the flyleaf,
and after them the date of the day.
And the words she wrote were these: ``The eyes
of all wait upon Thee; and Thou givest them their
meat in due season. Thou openest Thine hand
and satisfiest the desire of every living thing.
How excellent is Thy loving-kindness, O God!
therefore the children of men put their trust under
the shadow of Thy wings. Thou hast put gladness
in my heart, more than in the time that their corn
and their wine increased.''
And so a few days passed as before, and the
house was gloomy with the discontent of the Master.
But at last one evening there was rain all over
the land, and when the Master of the Harvest
went out the next morning for his early walk by
the cornfields, the corn had sprung up at last.
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