The Master: A Poem

A SNAPSHOT. 3^3 kneeled before her wayward lover, and gently took his burning cheeks between her hands. It may have been a fault of my eyes, but I thought the girl was enveloped by a halo of light. "We will be married tomorrow," she said, "and I'll nurse you back to health." "And sense," ejaculated the doctor. Salt Lake City, Utah. THE MASTER. AN INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF THE LATE DR. KARL G. MAESER.* {For the Improvement Era.) Benignly in their midst the master stood, And o'er the little group a silence fell. What should be done? 'Twas clearly understood; And yet, to do it right, to do it well ! "My fellow- teachers, " thus at last he said, "I would be just, yet love and mercy show, A soul to save ! for this the Savior bled ; For this his saving, precious blood did flow. "It would be just, perhaps — who knows the end? It may be, here a precious jem doth lie. As God is mine, so I will be a friend To this wild youth. To save him let us try." He paused to think ; the silence grew intense ; Then one arose, and thus declared his views: "My friends, I hope I may give no offense, — , I wish the lad may justly have his dues ; * Dr. Maeser, a natural teacher and disciplinarian, who devoted his whole career to his calling, was born in Meiszen, Saxony, Germany, January 16, 1828, and died in Salt Lake City, February 16, 1901. He organized the Brigham Young University, and may be called the father of Church schools in Utah.

374 IMPROVEMENT ERA. "But if we must decide the case this day, And if those dues are meted by the rule, I see no other chance — no other way — But forthwith to expel him from the school. Have 'we not oft forgiven, hoped and prayed. And borne with broken promises? His shame. It seems to me, if justice were delayed, A blight would be upon the school's fair name." "But one more chance! God grant he may repent!" The master spoke, and so it was decreed: A week — no more ; but ere the half was spent. The recreant, of mercy was in need. So meek , yet fervent, was his prayer that night : "0 Father! save the boy; forgive the past; Incline his heart to worthiness and right; So grant his widowed mother joy at last!" In vain , it seemed, he prayed ; the wa3nvard one Amended not, till hope grew very dim, And failed at last. "Our patience now is doile; Go to your home," the teacher said to him. Next morn, betimes, the master was at work. Plying with zealous care the busy broom; (The noblest will no menial duty shirk) And then with duster passed from room to room. When suddenly, the door was pushed ajar, And there the two stood silent, face to face ; The master sad, but not so sad by far As were those drooping eyes that shone disgrace. "I've come to see" — the voice was trembling low, ' 'If you could yet forgive' ' — one upward glance — "The wayward? I'm unworthy, well I know; Give me, for mother's sake, just one more chance!" "A thousand timest, my boy!" the master cried, And sent one speechless, thankful glance above; Then , with his loving heart expanding wide , They wept for joy in arms of mutual love. H. M. Warner. Provo, Utah.