A GENTLE HAND | AdventAI

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Jul 7, 1898

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 24, No. 27.

A GENTLE HAND.

T. S. Arthur tells us somewhere of the power that rests in a “gentle hand.” Belated in his travels, he called at a farmhouse. He was greeted first at the door by a huge dog. As he was about to retire with fear, a slender girl appeared and with a gentle voice commanded the dog to go into the house. The voice at once controlled the animal. “Who is there?” growled a voice from within, and Arthur was told that he could not remain overnight. The girl’s hand soon rested on her father’s arm, and a gentle voice spoke a few tender words, when the rough voice modulated, and the stranger was made welcome. Several times in the course of the evening was the power which rested in that slender girl’s hand and voice clearly manifested. As morning dawned and Arthur was about to depart, the farmer informed him that he could ride to the town. The offer was gladly accepted. As they took their seat in the buggy, however, the horse, a rough-looking Canadian pony, stubbornly refused to go. The farmer jerked and whipped the horse, but all to no effect.

A stout lad now came out into the road and, catching Dick by the bridle, jerked him forward, using at the same time the customary language on such occasions; but Dick met this

new ally with increased stubbornness, planting his forefeet more firmly, and at a sharper angle with the ground. The impatient boy now struck the pony on the side of his head with his clinched hand, and jerked cruelly at his bridle. It availed nothing, however. Dick was not to be wrought upon by any such arguments.

“Do not do so, John,” said a gentle voice. The boy obeyed the touch of her hand. “Poor Dick!” said the maiden, as she stroked his neck lightly, or softly patted it with her childlike hand. Then the stubborn little pony, turning his head as if to see the hand whose magic power he could not resist, started upon his journey as freely as if no silly crotchet had ever entered his stubborn brain.

“What a wonderful power that hand possesses!” said Mr. Arthur, speaking to his companion, as they rode away. The farmer’s countenance lighted up with surprise and pleasure as he replied: “She’s good. Everybody and everything loves her.”

Indeed, there was the secret of her power; the quality of her soul was perceived in the impression of her hand, even by dumb brutes. Even so can the magic touch and the gentle tones control the boy. In handling or correcting him, see that “mercy seasons justice,” and that love be mingled with firmness.—Our Dumb Animals.