=The story of bread.=--But the bread and butter, the apple sauce, and
the sugar! They may not be omitted from the picture. The bread
transports us to the fields of waving grain and conjures up in our
imagination visions of harvesters with their implements, wagons groaning
beneath their golden loads, riches of grain pouring forth from machines,
and brings to our nostrils the tang of the harvest time. Into this slice
of bread the sun has poured his wealth of sunshine all the summer long,
and into it the kindly clouds have distilled their treasures. In it we
find the glory of the sunrise, the sparkling dewdrop, the song of the
robin, the gentle mooing of the cows, the murmur of the brook, and the
creaking of the mill wheel. In it we read the poetry of the morning and
of the evening, the prophecy of the noontide heat, and the mighty
proclamations of Nature. And it tells us charming stories of health, of
rosy cheeks, of laughing eyes, of happiness, of love and service.
=Food and life.=--The butter, the apple sauce, and the sugar each has a
story of its own to tell that renders fiction weak by comparison. If our
hearts were but attuned to the charm and romance of the stories they
have to tell, every breakfast-table would be redolent with the fragrance
of thanksgiving. If our hearts were responsive to the eloquence of these
stories, then eating would become a ceremony and upon the farmer who
provides our food would descend our choicest benedictions.
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