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The Comforter

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Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park, Washington, D. C. · Aug 1, 1912

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 89, No. 31.

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The Comforter

By J. W. Foley

STUBBED your toe, didn't you, sonny? Struck on a stone in the dirt. Somebody thought it was funny, Laughed, and your feelings were hurt. He didn't see your teeth gritted, Trying so hard not to cry; Saw how your home-made clothes fitted, Laughed, and just hurried right by.
Hurt yourself, didn't you? Smarted More than somebody would think; Just about got the tears started, Made your eyes water and blink. Hurts you some worse when somebody Laughs,—and the tears in your eye Roll down and make your cheek muddy,— Laughs, and just hurries right by.
'Tisn't so much that you stubbed it, 'Tisn't because of the pain; Why, when you've bathed it and rubbed it, It will be all well again. 'Tisn't because there's blood spurting, Not because you must walk slow; It's something deeper that's hurting, Hurting you more than your toe.
You can stand fun, and it makes you Glad if it's fit time for chaff; But when misfortune o'ertakes you, You don't quite look for a laugh. So when you're being a dumb one, Trying so hard not to cry, It makes it harder when some one Laughs, and just hurries right by.
There—now it is better, I'm certain; Honest—no sign of a pain? Well, I'm right glad it's stopped hurting, And we're both happy again. 'Tisn't the real pain that's keenest, Brings the hot tears to the eye; It was that laugh that felt meanest When some one hurried right by. —Live Wire.