  The next day the whole town was busy—very busy—gossiping. Everybody told everybody else what the queer little old man had been overheard to say. But where was the little old man? Now that they thought of it, who had seen him since the night before? Nobody! Where could he be? Had he dropped through a crack in the floor, his disappearance could not have been more sudden or more complete. Every one was excited. It was not that the town cared particularly about the queer little old man. It was not that, at all. Only Leading from the town was a crooked road that was traveled but little. At the end of the road was a great forest where there lived many animals and birds. Had any of the townspeople been up very, very early on the morning that the queer little old man disappeared, they need not have been so excited. For on that morning a bent little figure might have been seen trudging along the crooked road leading toward the forest. The man was dressed poorly, almost shabbily. He walked slowly, and seemed to be deep in thought. Over his shoulder he carried a cane. From it hung a bag made of a big red figured handkerchief. Apparently the man was on a journey, The fat, round-faced Moon Man smiled down from his home in the sky at the little figure in the road. His mouth seemed to move, and I am sure he was saying: “Go, brave little old man. Go where you’ve decided to go. “If you are going to the forest, you will no doubt find a welcome there. Some animals and birds are better as friends than are some people. “Anyway, the great forest is in need of your lessons. I will light the way for you. May the good spirits attend you!” And in the stillness of the early morning the queer little old man of the quaint old town might have been heard to answer: “So I have decided. Come what may, I shall be satisfied. “Thank you, kind Moon Man, for your good wishes and for your bright light.” And on and on he trudged. The orange sun was peeping its head above the horizon when the queer little old man reached the edge of the forest. What warmth the glorious sun gave! His rays gave warmth of heart as well as warmth of body. The old man sat down on a log, to rest his tired legs and to take a bite to eat. Then a voice within the queer little old man began to talk. It said: “Perhaps, after all, you should “Ever since young Mr. Spendthrift came there to live you have been discontented. And when the people began to take his advice rather than yours, you grew angry and left. “Is that the way for an old man to do who always had plenty to eat and to wear?” But another voice with a fiery little temper was waiting to be heard. “What!” it cried, “have you no principle? Are you a worm, to be stepped upon? “Waste is wrong, no matter what you waste. Thrift is right and forever will be. “Therefore, hie you to the heart of the forest as you have decided. You will at least have peace of mind, and surely that is worth as much as ‘plenty to eat and to wear’!” |
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