Article April 2, 1910 Issue

THOUGHT UNFETTERED

BELLE A. MUNDY.

A lady once covered her canary's cage with a dark cloth, fearing that he might annoy the neighbors by singing at daybreak. However, when he awoke, he sang in the shrouded cage, because his instinct prompted him to greet the dawn with a cheery song. It seemed almost pathetic, the little creature trilling his pretty notes amid that unnatural gloom.

Is there not a lesson here for the children of God? Should not we, too, sing for joy, even though our surroundings seem darkened by error? Is not God's dear presence enough to fill the darkest prison of sense with gladness, and to free the voice of thanksgiving? Thus the lady queried, as she removed the covering from her little pet, and thanked him for the lesson he had taught her. Something in his happy notes entered into her own thought, for she said, unwittingly in rhyme,—