The Childrens Portion | Page 5

words, the party rode swiftly past.
The terrified villagers were still streaming across the road when

Goldmorrow came up. Nothing could exceed the pity which the
spectacle stirred in his breast. Tears streamed from his eyes. The
bareness, the poverty, the misery of the present time seemed to come
into view and gather into a point in what he saw. "Oh!" he cried to his
companions, "if Christ were only come! Only He could deal with evils
so great as these!" Then, withdrawing his thoughts into himself, and
still moved with his humane pity, he breathed this prayer to Christ:
"Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly, and lay thy healing hand on the
wounds and sorrows of the world." His companions were also touched
with what they saw. And in earnest and reverent words one of them
exclaimed: "Blessed hope! Light of the pilgrim! Star of the weary! The
earth has waited long thy absent light to see." But, by the time the
words were spoken, the villagers were behind them, and, spurring their
horses, the travelers hastened forward on their way.
IV.
A PLAGUE-STRICKEN VILLAGE.
The dust raised by their horses' hoofs was still floating over the
highway when Goldenday, with his sister and their attendants, rode up
to the spot. Two or three groups of the fugitives had made a temporary
home for the night under the shelter of the trees on the left. Others were
still arriving. The pale faces, the terrified looks of the villagers, filled
the Prince with concern. "It is the pestilence," they said, in answer to
his inquiries. "The pestilence, good sir, and it is striking us dead in the
very streets of our village." The Prince turned to his sister. She was
already dismounted. A light was in her eye which at once went to his
heart. The two understood each other. They knew that it was Christ and
not merely a crowd of terrified peasants who had met them. They were
His eyes that looked out at them through the tear-filled eyes of the
peasantry. It was His voice that appealed to them in their cries and
anguish. He seemed to be saying to them: "Inasmuch as ye do it to one
of the least of these, ye do it unto Me." In a few moments the Prince
had halted his party and unpacked his stores, and was supplying the
wants of the groups on the left. Before an hour was past he had brought
light into their faces by his words of cheer, and, with his sister and his

servants, was on his way to the plague-stricken village.
Most pitiable was the scene which awaited him there. People were
really dying in the streets, as he had been told. Some were already dead.
A mother had died in front of her cottage, and her little children sat
crying beside her body. Another, with a look of despair in her eyes, sat
rocking the dead body of the child. The men seemed to have fled.
The Prince's plans were soon formed. He had stores enough to last his
party and himself for a year. He would share these with the villagers as
far as they would go. He had tents also for the journey. He would use
these for a home to his own party and for hospitals for the sick. Before
the sun had set, the tents for his own party were erected on a breezy
height outside the village. And, ere the sun had arisen the next morning,
the largest tent of all had been set in a place by itself, ready to receive
the sick.
Goldenday and his sister never reached the country where the images of
all the Ages are to be found. A chance of doing good met them on their
journey, and they said to each other, "It has been sent to us by God."
They turned aside that they might make it their own. They spent the
year in the deeds of mercy to which it called them among the
plague-stricken villagers.
It would take too long to tell all that this good Prince and his sister
achieved in that year. The village lay in a hollow among dense woods
and on the edge of a stagnant marsh. The Prince had the marsh drained
and the woods thinned. Every house in the village was thoroughly
repaired and cleaned. The sick people were taken up to the tent-hospital
and cared for until they got well. The men who had fled returned. The
terrified mothers ventured back. The sickness began to slacken. In a
few months it disappeared. Then the Prince caused wells to be dug to
supply water for drinking. Then he built airy schools for the children.
Last of all he repaired the church, which had fallen