Tárogató, 1950 (13. évfolyam, 1-6. szám)
1950-10-01 / 4. szám
14 TÁROGATÓ old team. But when they reached the Wilson farm they found so many tractors and machines already there to sow his crop for a sick man, there seemed no room for them. “Too many here now,” called a man pushing by on a tractor. “Better come some other time.” Billy felt very small and useless. As they passed the house, Mrs. Wilson came out. “Since you were so kind as to come,” she said. “I wonder if you could put in a few of the potatoes. I have them cut and John had the land ready before he was hurt. Perhaps Billy could help a little.” “I do, at home,” Billy told her. In a few minutes Billy was at the telephone calling Jack and Ted and half a dozen other boys he knew. In half an hour the old team was ploughing fine straight furrows across a field away from where the tractors were roaring. Strung out along the furrows were bags of cut potatoes and small boys, armed with pails or baskets, were dropping cut pieces of potatoes neatly in the furrows. They stood back while the old team, Nell and Jim, hauled the plough by, covering the seed potatoes with good black soil. At noon Billy and his pals washed their hands at the barn pump and went to the waggon and their cars to look for the lunch they had brought. There was no lunch there. Somebody called them to the house. They ran. There, in the orchard, neighbour mothers were busy about picnic tables. “There’s a table just for you boys by yourselves”, somebody pointed out. “You helped so much”. Billy sighed from behind a sandwich.. “It was fun. Wasn’t it, fellows?” he asked. “Best picnic yet,” Ted agreed. EXPRESSION By Mary Naismith Matheson Could I not see the leaves Astir amid the trees, The grasses waving on the plains Like undulating seas — I could not guess the lordly might Of winds that course through day and night. Could I not see the lives Of men changed by his grace And in their love of fellow men New selflessness could trace, I might not recognize a Power Of Love — transcending Time’s embrace. FIVE LITTLE BUCHANS By Christine Campbell In a little grey manse beside the sea lived four small boys and their sister Anna. The boys were John, Willie, Walter and Alastair. They were very busy, lively youngsters, and they made a great deal of fun for themselves. Often they acted the Bible stories they knew. Sometimes they marched round and round the table blowing their own trumpets, to sound, as they hoped, like the noise that threw down the walls of Jericho. John and Willie sometimes carefully let Walter down the back of the sofa, playing, “Joseph in the Pit.” When they tried to play the “Fiery Furnace” their good father and wise little mother stopped them lest they burn the manse down. On Saturday night these Scottish children put away all toys and games. On Sunday they vrere very busy all the same. Their parents read the Bible and prayed with them morning and evening, just as they did every week-day. Besides, they went to church twice for long services, and certainly to Sunday School. That could not have left much time between meals. But still these little people found time to read their Bibles together, and to learn verses. At school they were busy learners, too, and they helped their parents to take care of the people in their village. Their father was the minister. Their mother was a very young farm girl when she first came to the manse. She loved to make their home comfy for the family. She liked to carry a basket of farm treats to everybody she visited. Her boys and girl learned from their mother to love dogs, horses and cattle, too.
