He wanted to
play Schubert's Serenade right off, but on learning the cost, he
contented himself with whistling it.
Fellows, he is of the sort that make up the great throng of
fourth-raters in the world to-day, drifting here and there; or
settling down with a family on his hands and a little two-by-four job
to eke out a bare living. And you fellows may as well face this fact:
you've got to _stint_, if you're going to pull off a stunt. No stint,
no stunt. Stinting is only another name for work and patience and
economy combined, and it brings its inevitable fruit--Success!
_Read Acts 16:6-15._
L
THE BEDOUIN SLAVE
Say, fellows, I heard a story from the banks of the Nile which stirred
my blood. It may be only a legend, but it contains a big thought, and
I want you to have it. All day upon the hot sands the battle had
raged, and as the sun was setting a Bedouin chief fell, mortally
wounded. Quickly his watchful body-servant eased his master's dying
form from the back of the Arabian steed and dragged him out of the
thick fighting to a protected spot where he might say his last word
and die in comparative quiet. The chieftain's words were few but
significant. He simply said to his man: "Go and tell Allah that I
come." The loyal slave knew what it meant: only his spirit could carry
a message like that, and the clay house it occupied must be destroyed
before the spirit would depart.
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