The Long Well at Errington

It is Lord’s Day morning. The snow has been falling heavily, and the park-like fields around the Vicarage at Ebrington, where I am the guest of the good Vicar and his wife, are white with their fleecy covering. In the near distance, the Cotswold hills are putting on their beautiful robes of white. Between the trees the gray tower of the Church is seen, and dotted here and there, the village homes―charming thatched cottages-the beauty of the countryside.
This is an old-world village of about five hundred inhabitants, with a delightful winding street, and the cottage homes with their gardens bright with flowers in summer, tucked away in restful corners. The old frequented paths have been worn by the long generations of the past, that have left their impress upon the present. Scarcely anything speaks of change. Standing amid the peaceful calm of these quiet homes and by-ways, we can fancy ourselves living centuries ago. The pleasant pasture lands are the same, the charm of cattle-grazing and the country sights and sounds, the music of birds, the ringing of the bells, and the wealth of nature’s sweetest gifts bestowed, are all unaltered.
And in these cottage homes the story is still the same―a son, or a brother, or a husband gone to the War. Some alas! never to return. The mother with the sun bonnet in our picture told me her son was on the Eastern Front. He spoke in his letters of the heat of the climate—often too hot to sit down, the water too warm to drink almost. He told his mother how he longed for a drink of the cool water in the “Long Well” of his village home in, Ebrington. In the picture you can see the “Long Well,” with the mother standing by it―a well that for centuries has supplied the village with water for man and beast. We hope her son may soon be home again to drink the water he longs for now, and I trust he has drunk of the “water of life.” His longing, reminds us of the time when David was in the cave Adullam. In exile there he longed for a drink of water from the well that was by the gate of Bethlehem, his village home, where he lived as a boy, and often quenched his thirst at its waters. Three of his mighty men of war fought their way through the host of the Philistines that guarded the well, and brought the water back for David to drink. He prized their love and devotion too much to drink the water procured at such a price―so he poured it out unto the Lord.
Our blessed Lord thirsted upon the Cross in order that by His death and resurrection He might be able to give us the “Water of Life” freely. If we drink this water Jesus gives, we shall never thirst again.
Read John 4.
Incidents of the War
A Private writes “From what I hear, Christian soldiers are badly needed in the Army, especially when the preachers tell the poor lads that they will go to heaven if they die on the field of battle. Ah! no, we know better. It cost our Saviour too much in His dying on Calvary for sinners to enter heaven by their own merits.”
“TELL, MY WIFE I AM READY”
The Rev. T. N. Tattersall speaks of a chat he had with Private Downs, of the Welsh Regiment, Whom he found in Hospital recovering from a wound. He related how he had lost his chum. They were sharing a dug-out together, and had agreed, should either fall, to write, home the terrible news. His friend said: “You will tell my wife I am ready, that to “God I have given my, trust.” Just before he fell he sang “Jesus is tenderly calling, thee home.” Little did he realize how near was his own call. A bullet struck him in the head.