Blint Compton's Change of Heart

Blint Compton's Change of Heart

By Ezra J. Poulsen

Blint Compton leaned on the fence rail, and surveyed the evidences of his bounteous harvest with a feeling of complacent satisfaction. The last sheaf of golden grain was in the stack, and the huge alfalfa ricks were topped off in lurid green, and emitted a sweet odor, which daintily suggested to the expe- rienced senses of the farmer that the hay was safely stacked for the season. Down on the meadow the cattle were browsing lazily in the autumn sunshine, and flocks of chickens and tur- keys, together with a drove of grunting pigs, were roaming leis- urely about the barn-yard, or industriously digging in the litter around the stack. At the big stone watering trough, just in- side the corral fence, the work horses lingered in complete com- fort, sipping occasional draughts of the cool water, and casting wide-eyed, askant glances at their master. Blint Compton's heart grew exultant over the prosperous tranquility about him. Probably he felt a little like a king gloating over his possessions. "By George, it's been a perty good year, after all," he so- liloquized. And his eyes roved off down the valley, dressed in its patchwork of greens and golden browns. It was not the sur-

passing beauty, but the evident prosperity that appealed to his practical mind, yet it could not be said in truth that Farmer Compton was devoid of appreciation for natural beauty. It was merely that his viewpoint was utilitarian, rather than aesthetic. "Yep, the crops are good," he ruminated. "But it takes 'em all for expenses." The latter was but a mental reserva- failed to tion, which even the dog, looking wisely at his master, hear. But as Blint Compton himself knew, it was not a mere passing thought; it was a firm conviction. Of all things that hurt him, the thought of giving up anything—even a part- hurt him worst. Turning, the lone meditator saw his own farmhouse, large veiled in and comfortable, standing beyond the orchard, thinly old struggles and as- the autumn haze. Immediately visions of pathos a lifetime, flitted across the sociations, the joy and of his consciousness, then passed into oblivion as quickly field of as they came. „ . . tie re- "Taxes, interest, machinery, donations, tithing, "Tithing," the word seemed a stumbling peated mechanically.

1074 IMPROVEMENT ERA block, standing erect in the trail of his thought associations. "Nothin' but a tax and a mighty high one." Mr. Blint Compton was very much like other men in that he could easily convince himself with his own arguments, so it naturally followed that he proceeded to clinch the foregoing

proposition with a few sledge hammer blows of reasoning. And it was settled conclusively, so far as he was concerned, that tith-

ing is a mighty high tax; therefore, an unjust one. As he moved about, caring for the animals, and doing other little tasks, more for the joy of doing them than from necessity, be continued to philosophize, and finally concluded that it would be all right if the "tax" was no tall paid, inasmuch as it had the extreme advantage of being a voluntary one. "I believe in tithin' all right," he thought, by way of self- justification, "but I don't believe a feller ought to take the tenth part of it too literally. Then some insidious little devil pro- voked him to a conclusion still another step from the truth. "There's such a thing as being too good," he murmured, with an ever-so-slight pinch of conscience. The sun began to tilt toward the big blue mountains across the valley; and then slowly the shadows began to gather, first in little pools among the crags, then in jagged promontories that jutted out from the base of the range. A bald eagle cir- cled above, and a chattering company of blackbirds lit in a near- by tree. Compton, with half closed eyes, allowed the delight- ful impressions to soothe his passive senses; yet he was not stirred to a realization of the beauty and harmony of the great panorama of life and earth. "Well, Steve," he said drowsily, "Let's git the cows." The dog responded heartily, and trotted ahead toward the meadows. Before many minutes had passed, the slow herd was struggling up toward the corral, with Steve and his master leisurely fol- lowing; and again the man was indulging in the prognostica- tion of the high cost of farming. Nearing the barnyard, he was awakened from his reverie by the merry sounds of childish laughter. Instantly his attention was riveted on the path that led through the orchard from the house. "Hello, Daddy," cried a happy, shrill voice, as a scamper- ing, white-stockinged, golden-haired formv in delicate pink frock, shot into view. Automatically the farmer's face brightened; it always brightened at the appearance of little Donetta, whose curls and laughing eyes were often said to be the keys to her father's heart. "Why, hello, Chick," greeted Blint Compton, as he stood stark still and waited for the little enchantress, while Steve trotted forward to escort the little lady.

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"Why didn't you let me go with you to the pasture?" ques- tioned the fair Donetta breathlessly, as she put her little white hand into her father's big brown one, and walked soberly by his side. "Didn't know you wanted to." home from religion class, "Oh, yes, I did; but I just got and mamma made me change my dress." "What did you learn today?" he questioned, with parental interest. "Um-m, lots of things." "Lots of things? How many lots?" "Heaps." And the little tomboy began to swing back and forth, using her father's arm for the rope. "Golly, yer gettin' heavy, Chick," he said fondly. She subsided; then suddenly with a quick flash of her blue eyes upward, she said demurely, "I learned something good today." Then swing she went again, and the big man had to brace himself to prevent her wriggling little body from pulling him over. "Something good," he repeated. "Uh-huh." "What?" "About castin' your bread on the waters, and havin' it come back to you, after a long time. A man in the Bible said that, and teacher says it means to do all kinds of good things, like helping others, and payin' yer tithing. She told us about a man that was robbed and beaten when he was going to Jeri- cho, until he was nearly dead. After awhile a priest came along and didn't help him; then a Levite passed and didn't help him either; but a Samaritan came and took the man to town and dressed his wounds, and paid the inn keeper to give the poor man some food. That was helpin' others, wasn't it, papa?" concluded the little preacher. "Yes, indeed," was the mild reply. "Dont y'ou think that was a good lesson?" queried the little one. "A fine lesson," said the father fervently, as the force of it began to take hold of his mind. There was a long silence, and it seemed to Blint Compton that his brain had been short circuited, so he could not think, yet he did think. He won- dered how he had forgotten that tithing was used to help others. Mechanically he dropped the bars, and let the cows pass into the corral. At once there was a loud greeting from the calves in the pen, and the bovine mothers answered lustily. Little Donetta was interested in the demonstration of filial

1076 IMPROVEMENT ERA relationship. "Papa," she exclaimed innocently, "do cows love their calves very much?" "Yes, they seem to." "All things love, don't they?" "Uh-huh." "Papa, teacher said 'God is love, and we ought to be like Him.' And she says payin' tithin' and offerings, and being good to everybody else are ways of being like him." Blint Compton laughed weakly. His well-thought-out con- clusions of an hour previous were suddenly distasteful, and he grew aware of an awakening to the folly of his thoughts. "Well, Chick, you're a wonderful little philosopher," he said, with emotion; and, stooping down, he gathered his angelic dauhgter in his arms, and held her tight. The supper bell rang, and together father and daughter fol- lowed the orchard trail toward the house. A great change had come over him, a softening of the heart that made him feel that, out of my abundance it is a joy to give. "Surely," he thought, "it is a truth that 'a little child shall lead them.' " Nephi, Utah