THIS little parable was suggested by the second verse of "The Mother's Evening Prayer," writen by Rev. Mary Baker G. Eddy
Love is our refuge; only with mine eye
Can I behold the snare, the pit, the fall:
His habitation high is here, and nigh,
His arm encircles me, and mine, and all.
There was once a beautiful country in a land far away, where there was never any night, or sorrow, or sighing. Its king was great and mighty, and his subjects were loving, faithful, and obedient.
