THEY were Methodists twain, of the ancient school,
Who always followed the wholesome rule
That whenever the preacher in meeting said
Aught that was good for the heart or head
His hearers should pour their feelings out
In a loud "Amen" or a godly shout.
Three children had they, all honest boys,
Whose youthful sorrows and youthful joys
They shared, as your loving parents will,
While tending them ever through good and ill.
One day--'twas a bleak, cold Sabbath morn,
When the sky was dark and the earth forlorn--
These boys, with a caution not to roam.
Were left by the elder folk at home.
But scarce had they gone when the wooded frame
Was seen by the tall stove pipe aflame;
And out of their reach, high, high, and higher,
Rose the red coils of the serpent fire.
With startled sight for a while they gazed,
As the pipe grew hot and the wood-work blazed:
Then up, though his heart beat wild with dread,
The eldest climbed to a shelf o'erhead,
And soon, with a sputter and hiss of steam.
The flame died out like an angry dream.
When the father and mother came back that day--
They had gone to a neighboring church to pray--
Each looked, but with half-averted eye,
On the awful doom which had just passed by.
And then the father began to praise
His boys with a tender and sweet amaze.
"Why, how did you manage, Tom, to climb
And quench the threatening flames in time
To save your brothers, and save yourself?"
"Well, father, I mounted the strong oak shelf
By help of the table standing nigh."
"And what," quoth the father, suddenly,
Turning to Jemmy, the next in age,
"Did you to quiet the fiery rage?"
"I brought the pail, and the dipper too,
And so it was that the water flew
All over the flames, and quenched them quite."
A mist came over the father's sight,
A mist of pride and of righteous joy,
As he turned at last to his youngest boy,
A gleeful urchin scarce three years old,
With his dimpling cheeks and his hair of gold.
"Come, Artie, I'm sure you weren't afraid:
Now tell in what way you tried to aid
This fight with the fire." "Too small am I,"
Artie replied, with a half-drawn sigh,
"To fetch like Jemmy, and work like Tom;
So I stood just here for a minute dumb,
Because, papa, I was frightened some:
But I prayed, 'Our Father,' and then, and then
I shouted as loud as I could, 'Amen.' "
