“This may not be,” I cried, and looked again
    To see if there was any here could ease my pain;
    But one by one I passed them slowly by,
    Till on a lovely one I cast my eye.

    Fair flowers around its sculptured form entwined,
    And grace and beauty seemed in it combined;
    Wondering, I gazed and still I wondered more,
    To think so many should have passed it o’er.

    But Oh! that form so beautiful to see,
    Soon made its hidden sorrows known to me;
    Thorns lay beneath those flowers and colors fair;
    Sorrowing, I said.  “This cross I may not bear.”

    And so it was with each and all around,
    Not one to suit my need could there be found;
    Weeping, I laid each heavy burden down,
    As my guide gently said:  “No cross, no crown.”

    At length to him I raised my saddened heart,
    He knew its sorrows, bid its doubts depart;
    “Be not afraid,” He said, “but trust in Me,
    My perfect love shall now be shown to thee.”

    And then with lightened eyes and willing feet,
    Again I turned my earthly cross to meet;
    With forward footsteps, turning not aside
    For fear some hidden evil might betide.

    And there, in the prepared, appointed way,
    Listening to hear, and ready to obey,
    A cross I quickly found of plainest form,
    With only words of love inscribed thereon.

    With thankfulness, I raised it from the rest,
    And joyfully acknowledged it the best;
    The only one of all the many there
    That I could feel was good for me to bear.

    And while I thus my chosen one confessed,
    I saw a heavenly brightness on it rest;
    And as I bent my burden to sustain,
    I recognized my own old cross again.

    But, oh! how different did it seem to be! 
    Now I had learned its preciousness to see;
    No longer could I unbelievingly say: 
    “Perhaps another is a better way.”

    Oh, no! henceforth my own desire shall be
    That He who knows me best should choose for me,
    And so whate’er His love sees good to send,
    I’ll trust its best, because He knows the end.

    And when that happy time shall come
    Of endless peace and rest,
    We shall look back upon our path
    And say:  “It was the best.”

CHAPTER XXIX.

MARY, RALPH, JAKE AND SIBYLLA VISIT THE ALLENTOWN FAIR.

Late in September Jake and Sibylla drove to the Allentown Fair.  It was “Big Thursday” of Fair week.  They started quite early, long before Ralph Jackson, who had come from the city the day previous, to take Mary to the Fair, had arisen.

[Illustration:  SECOND CHURCH BUILDING

Sheltered Liberty Bell, 1777-78.  Photographed from the print of an old wood cut used in a German newspaper in the year 1840]