III.

THE PILGRIM.


One sultry summer day a youthful pilgrim sat by the roadside, weary and
dispirited, saying, "I cannot see why I was ordered to tarry beside this
hard, unsightly rock, after journeying as many days as I have. Something
better should have been given me to rest upon after walking so far. If it
were only beside some shady tree, I could wait the appearance of the
guide. My lot is hard indeed. I do not see any pilgrim here. Others are
probably resting beneath green trees and by running brooks. I will look
at my directions once more;" and she drew the paper from her girdle and
read slowly these words: "Tarry at the rock, and do not go on till the
guide appears to conduct you to your journey's end." She folded and
replaced the paper with a sigh, while the murmur still went on: "It's
very hard, when beyond I see beautiful green trees, whose long branches
would shelter me from the burning sun. How thirsty I am, too! My bread is
no longer sweet, for want of water. Oh, that I could search for a spring!
I am sure I could find one if permitted to go on my journey. If the rock
was not so hard I could pillow my head upon it. Ah me! I have been so
often told that the guide had great wisdom, and knew what was good and
best for us pilgrims; but this surely looks very dark."

Here weariness overcame the pilgrim, and involuntarily she laid her
head upon the rock; when, lo! a sudden spring was touched, and the
waters leaped, pure and sparkling, from the hard, unsightly spot. This
was the guide's provision for his pilgrim. It was no longer mystical why