summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/13126-h
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
Diffstat (limited to '13126-h')
-rw-r--r--13126-h/13126-h.htm6045
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/001.gifbin0 -> 24226 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/002.gifbin0 -> 4698 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/006.gifbin0 -> 26499 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/008.gifbin0 -> 32718 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/009.gifbin0 -> 17915 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/011.gifbin0 -> 9555 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/012.gifbin0 -> 17972 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/014.gifbin0 -> 13719 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/017.gifbin0 -> 7628 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/018.gifbin0 -> 7198 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/021.gifbin0 -> 29672 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/022.gifbin0 -> 11359 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/023.gifbin0 -> 15459 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/027.gifbin0 -> 17276 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/029.gifbin0 -> 4564 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/030.gifbin0 -> 16573 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/031.gifbin0 -> 13061 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/034.gifbin0 -> 8571 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/037.gifbin0 -> 14206 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/040.gifbin0 -> 4335 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/041.gifbin0 -> 4677 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/042.gifbin0 -> 18096 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/044.gifbin0 -> 12324 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/045.gifbin0 -> 2523 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/046.gifbin0 -> 16386 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/049.gifbin0 -> 20072 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/051.gifbin0 -> 7523 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/052.gifbin0 -> 9088 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/054.gifbin0 -> 6068 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/055.gifbin0 -> 4908 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/057.gifbin0 -> 17730 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/062.gifbin0 -> 4662 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/065.gifbin0 -> 20247 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/067.gifbin0 -> 5916 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/069.gifbin0 -> 16121 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/071.gifbin0 -> 20632 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/073.gifbin0 -> 12932 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/076.gifbin0 -> 14109 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/077.gifbin0 -> 6100 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/081.gifbin0 -> 9869 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/082.gifbin0 -> 11540 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/084.gifbin0 -> 16838 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/086.gifbin0 -> 20907 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/087.gifbin0 -> 40783 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/090.gifbin0 -> 20780 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/092.gifbin0 -> 11119 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/093.gifbin0 -> 16100 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/097.gifbin0 -> 19197 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/099.gifbin0 -> 18405 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/102.gifbin0 -> 25680 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/104.gifbin0 -> 14705 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/108.gifbin0 -> 6252 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/109.gifbin0 -> 5212 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/110.gifbin0 -> 27465 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/114.gifbin0 -> 17748 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/117.gifbin0 -> 6903 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/119.gifbin0 -> 18155 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/120.gifbin0 -> 6506 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/121.gifbin0 -> 24274 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/122.gifbin0 -> 4517 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/123.gifbin0 -> 21465 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/125.gifbin0 -> 17967 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/126.gifbin0 -> 8709 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/128.gifbin0 -> 8911 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/129.gifbin0 -> 2002 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/130.gifbin0 -> 16131 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/131.gifbin0 -> 29656 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/133.gifbin0 -> 8742 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/135.gifbin0 -> 14829 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/138.gifbin0 -> 6182 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/139.gifbin0 -> 9709 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/140.gifbin0 -> 18859 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/141.gifbin0 -> 36565 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/144.gifbin0 -> 9553 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/145.gifbin0 -> 5332 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/146.gifbin0 -> 6525 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/148.gifbin0 -> 9534 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/149.gifbin0 -> 7751 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/151.gifbin0 -> 7228 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/153.gifbin0 -> 11101 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/155.gifbin0 -> 31227 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/157.gifbin0 -> 24985 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/159.gifbin0 -> 27245 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/161.gifbin0 -> 14854 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/164.gifbin0 -> 11270 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/165.gifbin0 -> 30515 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/169.gifbin0 -> 7835 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/171.gifbin0 -> 20992 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/173.gifbin0 -> 13109 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/177.gifbin0 -> 12598 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/183.gifbin0 -> 8893 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/185.gifbin0 -> 27102 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/188.gifbin0 -> 33703 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/189a.gifbin0 -> 3535 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/189b.gifbin0 -> 2668 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/190a.gifbin0 -> 2269 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/190b.gifbin0 -> 1604 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/191a.gifbin0 -> 2188 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/191b.gifbin0 -> 3579 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/192.gifbin0 -> 7911 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/194.gifbin0 -> 21144 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/195.gifbin0 -> 26101 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/199.gifbin0 -> 37595 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/200.gifbin0 -> 10624 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/202.gifbin0 -> 15224 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/204.gifbin0 -> 9224 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/206.gifbin0 -> 7250 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/207.gifbin0 -> 28122 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/209.gifbin0 -> 22642 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/210.gifbin0 -> 2437 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/211.gifbin0 -> 8275 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/213.gifbin0 -> 24149 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/216.gifbin0 -> 12334 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/219.gifbin0 -> 14929 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/220.gifbin0 -> 6832 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/221.gifbin0 -> 22118 bytes
-rw-r--r--13126-h/images/223.gifbin0 -> 14208 bytes
118 files changed, 6045 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/13126-h/13126-h.htm b/13126-h/13126-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..75b58c3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/13126-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,6045 @@
+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<html>
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8">
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The King's Daughter and Other Stories for Girls, by Various</title>
+ <style type="text/css">
+
+ P { margin-top: .75em;
+ text-align: justify;
+ margin-bottom: .75em;
+ }
+ H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 {
+ text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+ }
+ HR { width: 33%;
+ margin-top: 1em;
+ margin-bottom: 1em;
+ }
+ BODY{margin-left: 10%;
+ margin-right: 10%;
+ }
+ .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */
+ .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */
+ .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */
+ .sidenote {width: 20%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: smaller; float: right; clear: right;}
+
+ .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;}
+ .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;}
+ .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+ .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 2em;}
+ .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 4em;}
+ .poem .caesura {vertical-align: -200%;}
+ hr.full { width: 100%;
+ height: 5px; }
+ a:link {color:blue;
+ text-decoration:none}
+ link {color:blue;
+ text-decoration:none}
+ a:visited {color:blue;
+ text-decoration:none}
+ a:hover {color:red}
+ pre {font-size: 9pt;}
+
+ </style>
+</head>
+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13126 ***</div>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The King's Daughter and Other Stories for
+Girls, by Various</h1>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr class="full" noshade>
+<br>
+<center>
+<a name="001"></a><img src="images/001.gif" width="409" height="671" alt="It is a prison, and the young girl is a king's
+daughter." title="">
+</center>
+<center><a href="#page8"><small>Illustration Reference Here</small></a></center><br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h1>The King's Daughter</h1>
+
+<h3>and</h3>
+
+<h1>Other Stories for Girls</h1>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;">
+
+<center>&quot;WORDS FITLY SPOKEN&quot;</center>
+
+<center>Every Story Contains an Important Lesson</center>
+
+
+<center>
+<img src="images/002.gif" width="220" height="220" alt="[Illustration: Sabbath Readings For The Home Circle]" title="">
+</center>
+<br>
+
+<center>1910</center>
+
+
+
+
+<b><big>CONTENTS</big></b><br><br>
+
+
+ <a href="#The_Kings_Daughter">The King's Daughter</a><br>
+ <a href="#The_Old_Brown_House">The Old Brown House</a><br>
+ <a href="#A_Story_for_School_Girls">A Story for School Girls</a><br>
+ <a href="#WHAT_ONE_LIE_DID">What One Lie Did</a><br>
+ <a href="#TwoWays">Two Ways of Reading the Bible</a><br>
+ <a href="#Courtesy">Courtesy to Strangers</a><br>
+ <a href="#LiveforSomething">Live for Something</a><br>
+ <a href="#jennie">Jennie Browning</a><br>
+ <a href="#pastfuture">Past and Future</a><br>
+ <a href="#annadifficulty">Anna's Difficulty</a><br>
+ <a href="#companymanners">Company Manners</a><br>
+ <a href="#confidemother">Confide In Mother</a><br>
+ <a href="#tookmein">They Took Me In</a><br>
+ <a href="#littlesisters">The Little Sisters</a><br>
+ <a href="#valuable">A Valuable Secret</a><br>
+ <a href="#tellmom">Telling Mother</a><br>
+ <a href="#schoollife">A Story of School Life</a><br>
+ <a href="#HOW_BESS_MANAGED_TOM">How Bess Managed Tom</a><br>
+ <a href="#girlthoughts">A Little Girl's Thoughts</a><br>
+ <a href="#carelessgracie">Careless Gracie's Lesson</a><br>
+ <a href="#vicarious_punishment">Vicarious Punishment</a><br>
+ <a href="#pattyssecret">Patty's Secret</a><br>
+ <a href="#mopsey">Mopsey's Mistake</a><br>
+ <a href="#girlsong">A Girl's Song</a><br>
+ <a href="#carrie">Carrie's Marks</a><br>
+ <a href="#susie">Susie's Prayer</a><br>
+ <a href="#orange">The Stolen Orange</a><br>
+ <a href="#janet">Wee Janet's Problem</a><br>
+ <a href="#bertha">Bertha's Grandmother</a><br>
+ <a href="#puttingoff">Putting Off Till To-morrow</a><br>
+ <a href="#nothingfinished">Nothing Finished</a><br>
+ <a href="#WHATS_THE_USE">What's The Use</a><br>
+ <a href="#susydiller">Susy Diller's Christmas Feast</a><br>
+ <a href="#barn">The Barn That Blossomed</a><br>
+ <a href="#IShallNotWant">I Shall Not Want</a><br>
+ <a href="#dorothyangel">How Dorothy Helped the Angel</a><br>
+ <a href="#onegirl">One Girl's Influence</a><br>
+ <a href="#twoservice">Two Kinds of Service</a><br>
+ <a href="#dutypleasure">Duty and Pleasure</a><br>
+ <a href="#dangerousdoor">The Dangerous Door</a><br>
+ <a href="#goldenwindow">The Golden Windows</a><br>
+ <a href="#trustalways">Trust Always: Never Fret</a><br>
+ <a href="#newlife">The New Life</a><br>
+ <a href="#impossibleyesterday">The Impossible Yesterday</a><br>
+ <a href="#childpuzzle">A Child's Puzzle</a><br>
+ <a href="#shewassorry">How She Showed She Was Sorry</a><br>
+
+
+
+
+<br><br>
+
+<p><b><big>ILLUSTRATIONS</big></b></p>
+
+ <a href="#001">Frontispiece</a><br>
+<br>
+ <a href="#006">I WISH I WERE A PRINCESS</a><br>
+ <a href="#008">In the Temple Prison</a><br>
+ <a href="#009">Execution of Louis XVI</a><br>
+ <a href="#011">Queen Marie Antoinette Led to the Tribunal</a><br>
+<br>
+ <a href="#012">THE OLD BROWN HOUSE</a><br>
+ <a href="#014">Driven in for Shelter</a><br>
+ <a href="#017">I Will Keep Your Rose</a><br>
+ <a href="#018">It Never Looked so Dirty Before</a><br>
+ <a href="#021">Aunt Ruth Must Have Moved</a><br>
+ <a href="#022">Bessie Meets Aunt Ruth</a><br>
+<br>
+ <a href="#023">A STORY FOR SCHOOL GIRLS</a><br>
+ <a href="#027">The Recess</a><br>
+<br>
+ <a href="#030">WHAT ONE LIE DID</a><br>
+ <a href="#031">The Spelling Class</a><br>
+ <a href="#034">I Did Not Tell a Lie</a><br>
+ <a href="#037">Will You Go With Me To-night</a><br>
+ <a href="#040">At the Grave</a><br>
+ <a href="#041">Amy's Sorrow</a><br>
+<br>
+ <a href="#042">TWO WAYS OF READING THE BIBLE</a><br>
+ <a href="#044">Whom I Shall See for Myself</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#046">COURTESY TO STRANGERS</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#049">JENNIE BROWNING</a><br>
+<a href="#051">Saved Her Sister's Life</a><br>
+<a href="#052">He Pulled Jennie's Hair</a><br>
+<a href="#054">The Flame in the Rug</a><br>
+<a href="#055">Smothering the Fire</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#057">ANNA'S DIFFICULTY</a><br>
+<a href="#062">Coming to a Conclusion</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#065">COMPANY MANNERS</a><br>
+<a href="#067">A Glass of Water</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#069">CONFIDE IN MOTHER</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#071">THEY TOOK ME IN</a><br>
+<a href="#073">Thank You, My Dear</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#076">THE LITTLE SISTERS</a><br>
+<a href="#077">Explaining the Rule</a><br>
+<a href="#081">Both Sisters at School</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#082">A VALUABLE SECRET</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#084">TELLING MOTHER</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#086">A STORY OF SCHOOL LIFE</a><br>
+<a href="#087">Just the Amount, I Believe</a><br>
+<a href="#090">Begged to be Released</a><br>
+<a href="#092">In the Sick Room</a><br>
+<a href="#093">The Book at the Loom</a><br>
+<a href="#097">Crying Like a Baby</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#099">HOW BESS MANAGED TOM</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#102">CARELESS GRACIE'S LESSON</a><br>
+<a href="#104">We Are Invited</a><br>
+<a href="#108">In the Automobile</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#110">VICARIOUS PUNISHMENT</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#114">PATTY'S SECRET</a><br>
+<a href="#117">Will You Ask for Me?</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#119">MOPSEY'S MISTAKE</a><br>
+<a href="#120">Dis for 'ou</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#121">A GIRL'S SONG</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#123">CARRIE'S MARKS</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#125">SUSIE'S PRAYER</a><br>
+<a href="#126">He Said, Father Drinks</a><br>
+<a href="#128">The Prayer</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#130">THE STOLEN ORANGE</a><br>
+<a href="#131">Blindman's Buff</a><br>
+<a href="#133">Here It Is, Mama</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#135">WEE JANET'S PROBLEM</a><br>
+<a href="#138">Janet Screamed</a><br>
+<a href="#139">The Robin's Nest</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#140">BERTHA'S GRANDMOTHER</a><br>
+<a href="#141">A Handsome House</a><br>
+<a href="#144">Here They Are</a><br>
+<a href="#145">Mrs. Bell and Grandma</a><br>
+<a href="#146">Isn't Your Grandmother Funny?</a><br>
+<a href="#148">I Am Disappointed</a><br>
+<a href="#149">Grandma's Early Home</a><br>
+<a href="#151">The Carriage for Grandma</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#153">NOTHING FINISHED</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#155">SUSY DILLER'S CHRISTMAS FEAST</a><br>
+<a href="#157">They Shivered With the Cold</a><br>
+<a href="#159">Before the Restaurant</a><br>
+<a href="#161">On the Doorstep</a><br>
+<a href="#164">In a Heap by the Fire</a><br>
+<a href="#165">The Christmas Feast</a><br>
+<a href="#169">O Mother! Mother!</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#171">THE BARN THAT BLOSSOMED</a><br>
+<a href="#173">I Believe I've Hit It</a><br>
+<a href="#177">In the Attic</a><br>
+<a href="#183">Scrubbing the Floor</a><br>
+<a href="#185">Your New House</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#188">HOW DOROTHY HELPED THE ANGEL</a><br>
+<a href="#189a">Encourage Somebody</a><br>
+<a href="#189b">Cheer Up</a><br>
+<a href="#190a">Hope On</a><br>
+<a href="#190b">Broke the Crust</a><br>
+<a href="#191a">I Mean It</a><br>
+<a href="#191b">I'm Not Tired Now</a><br>
+<a href="#192">The Twenty-seventh Psalm</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#194">ONE GIRL'S INFLUENCE</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#195">TWO KINDS OF SERVICE</a><br>
+<a href="#199">Supper's Ready.</a><br>
+<a href="#200">What Is It, Aunt Sarah?</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#202">DUTY AND PLEASURE</a><br>
+<a href="#204">Carried It Like a Baby</a><br>
+<a href="#206">Confessing to Mama</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#207">THE DANGEROUS DOOR</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#209">THE GOLDEN WINDOWS</a><br>
+<a href="#210">Truly Golden Windows</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#213">THE NEW LIFE</a><br>
+<a href="#216">We Might Sign a Paper</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#219">THE IMPOSSIBLE YESTERDAY</a><br>
+<a href="#220">Can't Make Yesterday Over Again</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#221">A CHILD'S PUZZLE</a><br>
+<br>
+<a href="#223">SHOWED THAT SHE WAS SORRY</a><br>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;">
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+<center>
+<a name="006"></a><img src="images/006.gif" width="804" height="525" alt="I WISH I WERE A PRINCESS" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="The_Kings_Daughter"></a><h2>THE KING'S DAUGHTER</h2>
+
+<p></p>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish I were a princess!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Emma stood with the dust-brush in her hand, pausing on her way upstairs
+to her own pretty little white room, which she was required to put in
+order every day.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, my child?&quot; asked her mother.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because then I would never have to sweep and dust and make beds, but
+would have plenty of servants to do these things for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is a very foolish wish, my daughter, but even if you were a
+princess, I think you would find it best to learn how to do these
+things, so that you could do them in case of necessity.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But it is never necessary for princesses to work.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There my little girl proves her ignorance. If she will come to me after
+her work is done, I will show her a picture.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The little bedroom was at length put to rights, and Emma came to her
+mother, reminding her of her promise about the picture.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you see, my child?&quot; her mother asked, as she laid the picture
+before her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I see a young girl with her dress fastened up, an apron on, and a broom
+in her hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can you tell me what kind of place she is in?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not know. There are walls and arches of stone, and a bare stone
+floor. I don't think it can be a pleasant place.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="page8"></a><p>&quot;No, it is not. It is a prison, and the young girl is a king's
+daughter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A king's daughter!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; and her story is a very sad one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Please tell me about her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Many years ago the king of France was Louis XVI, and his wife was Marie
+Antoinette. They were not a wicked king and queen, but they were
+thoughtless and fond of pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They forgot that it was their duty to look after the good of their
+people; so they spent money extravagantly in their own pleasures, while
+the whole nation was suffering.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The people became dissatisfied; and when, finally, Louis and Marie
+Antoinette saw the mistake they had been making, and tried to change
+their conduct, it was too late.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The people, urged on by their leaders, learned to hate their king and
+queen. They were taken, with their two children, and shut up in a prison
+called the Temple.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There were dreadful times in France then, and every one who was
+suspected of being friendly to the king and his family was sent to
+prison and to the guillotine. The prisoners in the Temple passed the
+time as best they could.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The king gave lessons to his son and daughter every day, or read aloud
+to them all, while Marie Antoinette, Madame Elizabeth, and the young
+Marie Theresa sewed.</p>
+
+<center>
+<a name="008"></a><img src="images/008.gif" width="659" height="530" alt="[Illustration: Louis XVI and Family in the Temple Prison]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>&quot;After awhile the angry people took away the king and beheaded him. And
+shortly after the little son was separated from his mother, sister, and
+aunt, and shut up by himself in the charge of a cruel jailor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Next it was Marie Antoinette's turn to ascend the scaffold, which she
+did October 16, 1793. Her daughter, Marie Theresa, was then left alone
+with her aunt, the Madame Elizabeth.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But it was not long she was allowed this companionship. Madame
+Elizabeth was taken away and beheaded, and then the poor young girl of
+sixteen was left entirely by herself in a dismal prison, guarded and
+waited on by brutal soldiers.</p>
+
+<center>
+<a name="009"></a><img src="images/009.gif" width="640" height="654" alt="[Illustration: <i>Execution of Louis XVI</i>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<p>&quot;For a year and a half she lived thus, leading the most wretched
+existence, and not knowing whether her mother and aunt were alive or
+dead. Years afterward, when she was free, she wrote about her life in
+prison. In that we read:—&quot;'I only asked for the simple necessities of
+life, and these they often harshly refused me. I was, however, enabled
+to keep myself clean. I had at least soap and water, and I swept out my
+room every day.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So here in the picture you see a king's daughter, and the
+granddaughter of an empress (Marie Theresa of Austria, one of the most
+remarkable women in history), after having carefully made her toilet,
+sweeping the bare stone floor of her cell.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Which do you think caused her the most satisfaction in those dark days
+of trial: the remembrance that she was the daughter of a king? or the
+knowledge of domestic duties, which she had probably learned while she
+was a happy, envied princess, living in a palace and surrounded by a
+great many servants!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is that a true story?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, Emma, every word of it; and there is much, much more that I cannot
+tell you now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What became of her at last?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She was finally released from prison, and sent to Austria to her
+mother's friends; but it was a full year after she reached Vienna before
+she smiled; and though she lived to be seventy years old, she never
+forgot the terrible sufferings of her prison life.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, my child, what I wish to teach you is, that though it is sometimes
+very pleasant to be a princess, it may be most unfortunate at other
+times. But always remember, my dear girl, that a knowledge of
+housekeeping never comes amiss, and every young woman, no matter what
+the circumstances are, will be far happier and more useful for
+possessing that knowledge.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Children do not always comprehend everything at once; so I will not say
+that Emma soon learned to take delight in dusting and sweeping. But bear
+in mind that that woman is the most queenly, who uses her wisdom and her
+strength for the benefit of those around her, shrinking from no duty
+that she should perform, but doing it cheerfully and well.</p>
+
+<center>
+<a name="011"></a><img src="images/011.gif" width="382" height="575" alt="[Illustration: <i>Queen Marie Antoinette Led to the Tribunal</i>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="012"></a><center>
+<img src="images/012.gif" width="822" height="363" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<br>
+<a name="The_Old_Brown_House"></a><h2>THE OLD BROWN HOUSE</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>It was very old, low-roofed, and weather-beaten, standing quite a little
+stretch from the road, and you might have supposed it deserted but for
+the thin column of smoke that wound slowly above the roof, so desolate
+did it look.</p>
+
+<p>But it was inhabited, and could you have pushed aside the creaking door,
+you might have seen an old woman, wrinkled and gray, sitting by the
+silent hearth, stirring the dull fire, or looking absently from the
+window.</p>
+
+<p>It was Aunt Ruth Jones, as the neighbors called her, of whom little was
+known, except that she was a queer old woman—a sort of hermit, living
+all alone in the neglected old house. It had come into her possession,
+with a small farm adjoining, by the death of her parents some thirty
+years before.</p>
+
+<p>At first the neighbors were curious to see the new occupant; they found
+a tall, spare woman, then about thirty-four years of age, little given
+to gossip, shy, and cold. Some affirmed that she was proud, and others
+said that her life had been one of disappointment. But none had
+succeeded in drawing out her story, and gradually the old brown house
+and its occupant were left to themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Years had wrought changes; the walls were now darkened with smoke, the
+windows dingy, the floor sunken in; there was nothing cheery in the
+ill-kept room, or in the face of Aunt Ruth. Some natures become
+shriveled and cramped when left to themselves, and hers was such an one;
+I am afraid it was also narrowed and hardened by being shut off from
+humanity, with none to share her joys or grief, or to care indeed, if
+she had any.</p>
+
+<p>As the days came and went, they brought nothing to her but a little
+round of chores, a bit of patchwork, or straw braiding, and occasionally
+a walk to the village store to buy the few articles she required.</p>
+
+<p>The gay dresses and pert stare of the village girls, the glimpses of
+happy homes caught through the windows, and the noisy stir of life, only
+made more striking the contrast of her own lonely lot. Gladly would she
+hasten back to her own silent fireside, where the cats, at least, were
+glad of her presence. Old Brindle knew her step, and tossed her head
+impatiently for nubbins of corn, or the pail of slop with which she was
+wont to be treated. The hens cackled merrily, and scarcely stirred from
+their tracks, as her dress brushed their shining feathers.</p>
+
+<p>The care of these creatures was a kind of company, and on frosty
+mornings Aunt Ruth might be seen watching them eating so greedily,
+while her own breakfast was yet untasted, and her feet and fingers
+benumbed with cold.</p>
+
+<p>Though none shared her heart or home, yet there was sometimes one bright
+presence within those dim walls, a childish, questioning voice, and
+sweet laughter.</p>
+
+<p>It was Bessie Lane. One June day, on her way to school, a sudden dash of
+rain had driven the child there for shelter. And ever since, the happy
+little girl, with flaxen hair and clear eyes, would go to the forsaken
+old house to chat with Aunt Ruth. As that springing step was heard, and
+the latch lifted, there would come a gleam of brightness to the faded
+eyes, and a smile to the thin mouth.</p>
+
+<a name="014"></a><img src="images/014.gif" width="306" height="519"
+align="right" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;A sudden dash of rain had
+driven the child there for shelter.&quot;</i>]" title="">
+
+
+<p>The child found ready entrance to the lonely heart; children will, you
+know, they are so &quot;queer,&quot; as wise old heads sometimes affirm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What in the world makes you visit that old hermit?&quot; said Eliza Ray,
+her schoolmate, one morning. &quot;Bridget, our hired girl, says she is sure
+such a looking old hag must be a witch.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Witch or not, I like her;&quot; and Bessie Lane tossed up her hat, and
+pranced off after a fox squirrel just down the road.</p>
+
+<p>So Bessie kept up her visits, and the two would sit and talk together by
+the hour, Aunt Ruth showing her long-treasured trinkets, relics of years
+gone by, and detailing their history, till Bessie's eyes would dilate
+with wonder.</p>
+
+<p>On this wintry morning, in which we have introduced her to you, sitting
+by the dull fire, and looking from the dingy window, the time of
+Bessie's absence had been longer than usual. The sky was leaden, and the
+wind whistled down the chimney and shook the casements.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Aunt Ruth starts and peers through the window. There is a
+bright little hood and blue cloak approaching; she sees that, but not
+the carefully wrapped parcel Bessie is carrying, for she hurries to
+brighten the fire and brush the hearth.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good morning, Aunt Ruth. It has been ever so long since I have been
+here, hasn't it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, a long time for a lonesome old body like me; but this is no place
+for the young and happy, I know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes it is, dear Aunt Ruthie. You must not say so. I like to come
+real well. But Uncle Jake has been so sick; he sent for pa and ma, and I
+went with them. It is such a long way off, I thought we never would get
+there. And Oh, Aunt Ruth, I have not told you yet&quot;—and the chubby face
+sobered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it, child?&quot; picking up bits of litterings from the floor.
+Somehow she always did so when Bessie was around, the hands
+involuntarily moved in little touches of order and neatness. The room
+was good enough for her: for the child it seemed dismal and must be
+brightened a little. But Aunt Ruth was unconscious that she was being
+called to a better life, or that a love for light and beauty was
+awakening in her weary heart.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I will tell you; we are going to move away. I declare, I think
+it's too bad to leave all the girls just as I began to like them, and
+you, too, Aunt Ruth. I don't want to go one bit;&quot; tears rolling down her
+face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Going away, my little girl going off?&quot; said Aunt Ruth seriously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; and mamma said we couldn't move Chip, it would be such a bother,
+so I have given poor birdie away to Allie Smith;&quot; tears flowing afresh.
+&quot;I let Amy Wells have my kitten, but I haven't found a place for my poor
+little rose. See,&quot; said Bessie, going to the table and removing the
+wrapper from her parcel, &quot;isn't it a beauty? You will keep it to
+remember me by, and take care of it always, won't you, Aunt Ruth?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The little blossoms were out in full, and seemed to smile a benediction
+upon the old woman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes, child, I will keep your rose; no harm shall come to it.&quot; The
+little plant seemed to carry her thoughts away, for she began talking
+absently to herself, then recalling her musings she said:—&quot;So you are
+going away; and you'll forget all about poor Aunt Ruth with so many new
+friends. Well, well, it's natural.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="017"></a><img src="images/017.gif" width="314" height="416"
+align="left" alt="[Illustration: &quot;Yes, child, I will keep your
+rose.&quot;]" title="">
+
+
+<p>&quot;No, no, indeed I shall not,&quot; said Bessie, giving her a hearty hug, &quot;and
+sometime I will come to see you.&quot; They talked a long time, but at last,
+with a good-by kiss to Aunt Ruth, and to the pet rose, she was gone like
+a flitting sunbeam.</p>
+
+<p>Then the shadows seemed to come back to the inmate of the old house; but
+as her glance fell upon the little flower, she began clearing a place
+for it to stand in the warmest corner, musing to herself the while:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just such roses I used to carry in my hand to the old stone church in
+Amsden when no bigger than Bessie. It seems like yesterday, but ah! it
+is a long time. Maybe if I could do like that again, it would not be so
+dark and lonesome like. I think I'll put the rose here by the south
+window, then if the child ever does come, she will see it from the
+gate.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="018"></a><center> <img src="images/018.gif" width="427"
+height="346" alt="[Illustration: &quot;It never looked quite so dirty
+before.&quot;]" title=""> </center>
+
+
+<p>Bringing a little pine stand, she carefully placed the plant upon it. In
+doing so, she chanced to glance at the window. &quot;Bless me! it never
+looked quite so dirty before;&quot; and Aunt Ruth moved with new life, as she
+cleansed, rinsed, and polished the glass. But this being done, the old
+muslin curtain seemed dingier than common, shading the clear glass; so
+it was taken down, and another finer one unpacked from a drawer and put
+in its place.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning, as she ate her lonely breakfast, she placed her chair
+to face the window and the rose. The sun was shining, and as the rays
+streamed across the room to the opposite wall, she marked the cobwebs.
+That day the cobwebs were swept down, the other window washed, and the
+floor cleaned. The old house had not been so neat and cheery for many
+years.</p>
+
+<p>Near the close of the week she went to the village, this time putting on
+a dark delaine, instead of the snuff calico with a yellow flower.
+Somehow the gay dresses and curious glances did not disturb her as much
+as usual. A pleasant recognition was passed with a neighbor whom she had
+not spoken to for a year.</p>
+
+<p>A strange feeling had come over her,—a feeling that she was one of the
+great human family after all, and the icy mountain of reserve began to
+thaw just a little. Her purchases made, she concluded to take another
+road home. This route lay past a church. It was lighted, though early,
+and a few real worshipers had met to pray before the regular service.</p>
+
+<p>They were singing now, and Aunt Ruth paused, as a clear, triumphant
+voice bore up the strain,—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Plunged in a gulf of dark despair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Spell-bound, she listened to its close, never stirring from her tracks
+till a group of people passed near, then slowly walking on, you might
+have heard her talking again to herself:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Ruth Jones, where are you? I used to sing that, too, in the same old
+church where I carried the roses, only it was years after. I used to
+pray, too. I wonder if God would hear me now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That night, and many nights after, she could not sleep; the words of
+song kept ringing in her ears, bringing up the old scenes and
+associations, till the great deep of her soul was broken up.</p>
+
+<p>In her darkness she felt gropingly, feebly, for the old paths, and the
+good Spirit was all the time leading her back to the light. I can not
+retrace for you all the way that she came. I only know that gradually,
+surely, the night wore away, and the Sun of peace shone upon her soul.
+She went to the church, where the song had that night staid her
+footsteps, and listened to the words of life.</p>
+
+<p>Her life became a blessing; for her nature was broadened, deepened and
+purified. The sick and needy learned to be glad at her coming, and
+little children ran to meet her.</p>
+
+<p>And did Bessie Lane ever come again?</p>
+
+<p>Yes, when June smiled upon the earth, the childish figure once more
+paused at the gate, but the blue eyes gazed bewildered around. &quot;This
+isn't the place. Aunt Ruth must have moved away.&quot; Well might she think
+so; the house was neatly painted, the yard fence repaired, and up and
+down the path all sorts of flowers were blooming. Just then Bessie
+descried a neatly dressed old lady tying up some vines.</p>
+
+<a name="021"></a><center> <img src="images/021.gif" width="553"
+height="844" alt="[Illustration: &quot;Aunt Ruth must have moved
+away.&quot;]" title=""> </center>
+
+
+<a name="022"></a><img src="images/022.gif" width="303" height="469"
+align="right" alt="[Illustration: &quot;Bessie sprang into the woman's
+arms.&quot;]" title="">
+
+
+<p>&quot;Can you tell me where Aunt Ruth Jones has gone that used to&quot;—Bessie
+stopped, and with one bound sprang into the woman's arms, for it was
+Aunt Ruth herself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is so beautiful here! how did it all happen?&quot; cried the delighted
+child.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Ruth smiled brightly, and, taking Bessie by the hand, passed into
+the neat, cheerful room, and up to the south window, where the carefully
+tended rose was putting forth beauty and fragrance.</p>
+
+<p>Bessie fairly danced with delight at sight of the rose, but Aunt Ruth
+seated the child gently by her side, and told how it had happened; how
+the little flower had at first whispered to her heart of the long ago;
+of the holy song that would not let her sleep; and, lastly, of God's
+good Spirit that had so tenderly led her straying steps to the sun-gilt
+path of peace.</p><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+<a name="023"></a><center>
+<img src="images/023.gif" width="801" height="403" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<br>
+<a name="A_Story_for_School_Girls"></a><h2>A STORY FOR SCHOOL GIRLS</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>It was recess at Miss Capron's school. The girls stood together in one
+large group, talking very earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think it was a shame,&quot; said Marcia Lewis, &quot;for her to make me face
+the corner for an hour, just because I spoke half a dozen words to
+Nellie Jones.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think so, too,&quot; chimed in a half a dozen other voices.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She delights in showing her authority,&quot; said Lottie Barnes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So she does, or she wouldn't have kept Anna Mory and me on the
+recitation seat, for missing one or two questions in arithmetic.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't you think she is dreadfully cross? I guess if we should try to
+keep account of all her cross words and looks, we would have to be
+pretty busy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wouldn't that be a nice idea? Let us make a mark on our slates every
+time she is cross, and see what a long string of marks we shall get.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh yes! let's do it! Yes! yes!&quot; chimed in a dozen voices in full
+chorus.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Miss Capron! With a sinking at her heart she saw the unloving looks
+in her scholars' faces as they entered the schoolroom after this stormy
+consultation. She had a severe headache that afternoon, so that,
+altogether, she did not wear nearly so smiling a face as usual; and the
+girls, prejudiced as they were, found ample occasion for setting down
+their cross-marks.</p>
+
+<p>Pretty soon Lottie Barnes held up her slate to view, displaying a long
+row of marks. Anna Mory imitated her example; then Lottie Jones; and in
+less than two minutes the whole school followed suit. This, of course,
+called for a reprimand from Miss Capron; and then there was a terrible
+clicking of pencils. Soon Marcia Lewis dropped her slate on the floor,
+and the next instant every slate was on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Girls! girls!&quot; said Miss Capron sternly; &quot;you seem to have banded
+yourselves together to trample on the rules of order. I shall proceed no
+further with recitations until you have become quiet and orderly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But even this seemed to fail of producing the desired result. The girls
+were quiet only a few minutes. Nellie Jones remembered that she had in
+her pocket a bottle of snuff for her grandmother, and in ten minutes the
+schoolroom was resounding with sneezes. Next, little paper balls began
+to fly mysteriously from all sides, and every girl appeared intent upon
+her lesson. Presently, a half-suppressed titter from Marcia Lewis
+awakened an answering one from Mattie Lee, and one after another joined,
+until at length there was an almost deafening peal of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The very spirit of mischief seems to have made headquarters here this
+afternoon,&quot; said Miss Capron. &quot;It is useless to try to proceed with
+recitations, while my whole attention is needed to keep you in order. I
+will give you another recess of fifteen minutes, and if you do not
+succeed in getting rid of your excess of fun and frolic, I shall take
+very prompt and decisive measures to help you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The girls felt some little twinges of conscience, but, after all, were
+quite delighted with the success of their experiment.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tell you what it is,&quot; said Marcia Lewis, &quot;Miss Capron has no business
+to be so awful cross. Only think what a sight of marks we got. Let's act
+just as bad when we go into school again, and she will have to dismiss
+us, and then we'll all go down to the falls and have a nice time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Would'nt it be grand,&quot; said Nellie Jones.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Splendid,&quot; replied Mattie Lee.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why! what is the matter?&quot; said Mary Paine, who had been absent from
+school during the day until then and was surprised to find her usually
+pleasant companions so excited. When she had heard the whole story, she
+looked very sad:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor Miss Capron! How could you treat her so!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is just what she deserves for being so cross,&quot; said Lottie Barnes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you have been looking at the wrong side, girls. I have heard a
+story of a lady who began to find faults in her son's wife. The more she
+looked for them, the more she found, until she began to think her
+daughter-in-law the most disagreeable person in the world. She used to
+talk of her failings to a very dear friend.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Finally, her friend said to her one day, 'No doubt Jane has her faults,
+and very disagreeable ones, but suppose for awhile you try to see what
+good qualities you can discover in her character. Really, I am very
+curious to know.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The good lady was a little offended at her friend's plain suggestion;
+but finally concluded to try it; and long before she had discovered half
+her good traits, she began to regard Jane as a perfect treasure. Now you
+have been doing just as this lady did, in looking for faults. Let us be
+like her the rest of the afternoon in looking for pleasant things. Let
+us see how many smiles we can get from Miss Capron.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mary Paine was one of the oldest girls in the school. She gave the girls
+subjects for their compositions and helped them out of all their
+troubles. So being a favorite they consented, half reluctantly, to do as
+she said.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Capron dreaded to ring the bell. The fifteen minutes passed, and
+she felt compelled to call her scholars. They entered in perfect order.</p>
+
+<a name="027"></a><center>
+<img src="images/027.gif" width="432" height="639" alt="[Illustration: &quot;She felt compelled to call her scholars.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>Each took her seat quietly and began studying in real earnest.
+Frequently, however, a pleasant smile would seek an answering one from
+the teacher, and then one would be added to the rapidly increasing row
+of smile-marks. The good order and close application to study, and the
+winning looks, soon caused a continual smile to lighten Miss Capron's
+face, till the girls finally rubbed out the marks, saying it was of no
+use to try to keep account.</p>
+
+<p>Marcia Lewis wrote on her slate, &quot;It's smile all the time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Before Miss Capron dismissed the school at night, she said:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My head ached sadly before recess, and I fear I was impatient with you.
+Your good conduct since has convinced me that I must have been in fault.
+I thank you, my dear girls, for your love and kindness, and hope you
+will forgive my faults as freely as I do yours. School is dismissed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Instantly she was surrounded by all the girls and showered with kisses.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We have been very wicked,&quot; said Marcia Lewis, &quot;and it is not your fault
+at all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Little Libbie Denny then related the whole story of the conspiracy, and
+when she told the part that Mary Paine had taken, Miss Capron put her
+arm about Mary, and kissing her, said, &quot;Blessed are the peacemakers, for
+they shall be called the children of God.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, my dears,&quot; she added, &quot;which was best, looking for frowns or for
+smiles?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O, the smiles,&quot; said they all together.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish you might learn a lesson from this, to remember all through your
+lives. Overlook the bad and seek for what is good in everybody; and so
+you will help to make both yourselves and others happier and better.
+What is the lesson, girls?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And each voice responded, &quot;We will overlook the bad, and seek only for
+what is good in those around us.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="029"></a><center>
+<img src="images/029.gif" width="512" height="240" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="030"></a><center>
+<img src="images/030.gif" width="807" height="312" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<a name="WHAT_ONE_LIE_DID"></a><h2>WHAT ONE LIE DID</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>It was winter twilight. Shadows played about the room, while the ruddy
+light flickered pleasantly between the ancient andirons.</p>
+
+<p>A venerable old lady, whose hair time had silvered, but whose heart he
+had left fresh and young, sat musing in an armchair, drawn up closely by
+the fireside. Suddenly the door opened, and a little girl hurried to her
+side.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Bessie,&quot; said the old lady, laying her hand lovingly on the
+child's sunny ringlets, &quot;have you had a good slide?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Beautiful, Aunt Ruth; and now won't you tell me one of your nice
+stories?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Bessie was an only child, whose mother had just died. The little girl
+had come to visit her aunt, who had learned to love her dearly because
+of her winning ways and affectionate disposition.</p>
+
+<p>But Aunt Ruth's eyes were of the clear sort, and she soon discovered
+that Bessie was not only careless about telling the truth, but that she
+displayed little sensitiveness when detected in a falsehood.</p>
+
+<a name="031"></a><center>
+<img src="images/031.gif" width="326" height="515" alt="[Illustration: <i>The Spelling Class</i>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>Now, if there was any one trait for which Aunt Ruth was particularly
+distinguished, it was her unswerving truthfulness; and if there was
+any one thing that annoyed her more than all others, it was anything
+like falsehood.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A liar shall not stand in my sight,&quot; was the language of her heart, and
+so she determined, with the help of God, to root out from her darling's
+character the noxious weed, whatever effort it might cost her. Of this
+she had been musing, and her resolve was formed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get your rocking-chair, dear, and come close beside me;&quot; and in a
+moment the child's blue eyes were upturned to hers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am old now, Bessie,&quot; and she tenderly stroked that fair brow, &quot;and my
+memory is failing. But I can recall the time when I was a little
+dancing, sunny-haired girl, like you. You open your eyes wonderingly,
+but, if your life is spared, before you know it, child, you will be an
+old lady like Aunt Ruth.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In those young days I was in a spelling-class, at school, with a little
+girl named Amy, a sweet-tempered, sensitive child, and a very good
+scholar. She seemed disposed to cling to me, and I could not well resist
+her loving friendship. Yet I did not quite like her, because she often
+went above me in the class, when, but for her, I should have stood at
+the head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor Amy could not account for my occasional coolness, for I was too
+proud to let her know the reason. I had been a truthful child, Bessie,
+but envy tempted me, and I yielded. I sometimes tried to prejudice the
+other girls against Amy, and this was the beginning of my deceit. She
+was too timid to defend herself, and so I usually carried my point.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One day our teacher gave out to us the word, <i>believe</i>. In her usual
+low voice, Amy spelt <i>'b-e-l-i-e-v-e, believe.'</i> Her teacher
+misunderstanding her said, quickly, 'Wrong—the next;' but turning to
+her again, asked, 'Did you not spell it <i>l-e-i-v-e?'</i></p>
+
+<p>&quot;'No ma'am, I said <i>l-i-e-v-e</i>,'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Miss R——, still in doubt, looking at me, inquired, 'You heard, Ruth;
+how was it?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A wicked thought occurred to me,—to disgrace her, and raise myself.
+Deliberately I uttered a gross falsehood, 'Amy said <i>l-e-i-v-e</i>,'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The teacher turned toward Amy, who stood, silent, distressed and
+confounded by my accusation. Her flushed face and streaming eyes gave
+her the appearance of guilt.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Amy,' said her teacher sternly, 'I did not expect a lie from you. Go,
+now, to the foot of the class, and remember to remain after school.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had triumphed, Bessie; Amy was disgraced, and I stood proudly at the
+head of my class, but I was not happy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When school was dismissed, I pretended to have lost something, and
+lingered in the hall. I heard the teacher say,—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Amy, come here,' and then I caught the light footsteps of the gentle
+child.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'How could you tell that lie?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Miss R—- I did not tell a lie,' but even as she denied it, I could
+see through the keyhole that in her grief at the charge, and her dread
+of punishment, she stood trembling like a culprit.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Hold out your hand.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There I stood, as if spellbound. Stroke after stroke of the hard ferule
+I heard fall upon the small white hand of the innocent child. You may
+well hide your eyes from me, Bessie. Oh, why did I not speak? Every
+stroke went to my heart, but I would not confess my sin, and so I stole
+softly from the door.</p>
+
+<a name="034"></a><img src="images/034.gif" width="268" height="446" align="right" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;Miss R—- I did not tell a lie.&quot;</i>]" title="">
+
+
+<p>&quot;As I lingered on the way, Amy walked slowly along, with her books in
+one hand, while with the other she kept wiping away the tears, which
+would not yet cease to flow. Her sobs, seeming to come from a breaking
+heart, sank deep into my own.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As she walked on, weeping, her foot stumbled, and she fell, and her
+books were scattered on the ground. I picked them up and handed them to
+her. Turning toward me her soft blue eyes swimming in tears, in the
+sweetest tones, she said,—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'I thank you, Ruth.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It made my guilty heart beat faster, but I would not speak; so we went
+on silently together.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When I reached home, I said to myself, 'what is the use, nobody knows
+it, and why should I be so miserable?' I resolved to throw off the hated
+burden, and, going into the pleasant parlor, I talked and laughed as if
+nothing were the matter. But the load on my poor heart only grew the
+heavier.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I needed no one, Bessie, to reprove me for my cruel sin. The eye of God
+seemed consuming me. But the worse I felt, the gayer I seemed; and more
+than once I was checked for my boisterous mirth, while tears were
+struggling to escape.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;At length I went to my room. I could not pray, and so hurrying to bed,
+I resolutely shut my eyes. But sleep would not come to me. The ticking
+of the old clock in the hall seemed every moment to grow louder, as if
+reproaching me; and when it slowly told the hour of midnight, it smote
+upon my ear like a knell.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I turned and turned upon my little pillow, but it was filled with
+thorns. Those sweet blue eyes, swimming in tears, were ever before me;
+the repeated strokes of the hard ferule kept sounding in my ears. At
+length, unable to endure it longer I left my bed, and sat down by the
+window. The noble elms stood peacefully in the moonlight, the penciled
+shadow of their spreading branches lying tremulously on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The white fence, the graveled walks, the perfect quietness in which
+everything was wrapped, seemed to mock my restlessness, while the solemn
+midnight sky filled me with a sense of awe which I never felt before.
+Ah! Bessie, God was displeased with me, my conscience was burdened and
+uneasy, and I was wretched.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As I turned from the window, my eyes rested on the snow-white coverlet
+of my little bed, a birthday gift from my mother. All her patient
+kindness, rushed upon my mind. I felt her dying hand upon my head. I
+listened once more to her trembling voice, as she fervently besought the
+blessing of heaven upon me:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Oh, make her a truthful, holy child!'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tried to banish from my thoughts this last petition of my dying
+mother; but the more resolute was my purpose, the more distinctly did
+those pleading tones fall upon my heart, till, bowing upon the window, I
+wept convulsively. But tears, Bessie, could give me no relief.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My agony became every moment more intense, till at length, I rushed,
+almost in terror, to my father's bedside.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Father! father!' but I could say no more. Tenderly putting his arm
+around me, he laid my throbbing head upon his bosom; and there he
+gently soothed me, till I could so far control my sobbing, as to explain
+its cause. Then how fervently did he plead with, heaven, that his
+sinning child might be forgiven!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Dear father,' said I, 'will you go with me to-night to see poor Amy?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He answered, 'To-morrow morning, my child.'</p>
+
+<a name="037"></a><center>
+<img src="images/037.gif" width="561" height="364" alt="[Illustration: &quot;Dear Father, will you go with me to-night to see poor
+Amy?&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Delay was torture; but striving to suppress my disappointment, I
+received my father's kiss and went back to my room. But slumber still
+fled from my weary eyelids.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My longing to beg Amy's forgiveness amounted to frenzy; and after
+watching for the morning, for what seemed to me hours, my anguish became
+so intolerable that I fled once more to my father, and with tears
+streaming down my cheeks, I knelt by his side, beseeching him to go with
+me to Amy that moment; adding, in a whisper, 'She may die before she
+has forgiven me.' He laid his hand upon my burning cheek, and after a
+moment's thought, replied,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'I will go with you, my child.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In a few moments we were on our way. As we approached Mrs. Sinclair's
+cottage, we perceived lights hurrying from one room to another.
+Shuddering with dread, I drew closer to my father. He softly opened the
+gate, and silently we passed through it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The doctor, who was just leaving the door, seemed greatly surprised to
+meet us there at that hour. Words cannot describe my feelings, when in
+answer to my father's inquiries, he told us that Amy was sick with brain
+fever.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Her mother tells me,' he continued, 'that she has not been well for
+several days, but that she was unwilling to remain from school. She came
+home yesterday afternoon, it seems, very unlike herself. She took no
+supper, but sat at the table silently, as if stupefied with grief.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Her mother tried every way to find out the cause of her sorrow; but in
+vain. She went to bed with the same heart-broken appearance, and in less
+than an hour, I was summoned. In her delirium she has been calling upon
+her dear Ruth, beseeching you with the most mournful earnestness to pity
+and to save her.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bessie, may you never know how his words pierced my heart!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My earnest plea to see Amy just one minute, prevailed with her widowed
+mother. Kindly taking my hand—the murderer's—she led me to the sick
+chamber. As I looked on the sweet sufferer, all hope deserted me. The
+shadows of death were already on her forehead and her large blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Kneeling by her bed, in whispered words my heart pleaded, oh, so
+earnestly, for forgiveness. But, when I looked entreatingly toward her,
+in her delirious gaze there was no recognition. No, Bessie, I was never
+to be comforted by the assurance of her pardon.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When I next saw Amy, she was asleep. The bright flush had faded from
+her cheek, whose marble paleness was shaded by her long eyelashes.
+Delirium had ceased, and the aching heart was still. That small, white
+hand, which had been held out tremblingly, to receive the blows of the
+harsh ferule, now lay lovingly folded within the other. Never again
+would tears flow from those gentle eyes, nor that bosom heave with
+sorrow. That sleep was the sleep of death!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My grief was wilder, if not deeper, than that mother's of whose lost
+treasure I had robbed her. She forgave me; but I could not forgive
+myself. What a long, long winter followed. My sufferings threw me into a
+fever, and in my delirium I called continually upon Amy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But God listened to the prayers of my dear father, and raised me from
+this sickness. And when the light footsteps of spring were seen upon
+the green earth, and early flowers were springing up around the grave of
+Amy, for the first time, I was allowed to visit it.</p>
+
+<a name="040"></a><img src="images/040.gif" width="223" height="286"
+align="right" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+
+<p>&quot;My head swam, as I read, lettered so carefully on the white tablet:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'AMY SINCLAIR, <i>Fell asleep September third.'</i></p>
+
+<p>&quot;Beside that fresh turf I knelt down, and offered, as I trust, the
+prayer of faith. I was there relieved, and strengthened too, Bessie,&quot;
+said Aunt Ruth, as she laid her hand tenderly upon that young head bowed
+down upon her lap.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Bessie's tears had long been flowing, and now her grief seemed
+uncontrollable. Nor did her aunt attempt consolation; for she hoped
+there was a healing in that sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pray for me!&quot; whispered Bessie, as, at length, looking up through her
+tears, she flung her arms about her aunt; and from a full heart Aunt
+Ruth prayed for the weeping child.</p>
+
+<p>That scene was never forgotten by Bessie; for in that twilight hour, a
+light dawned upon her, brighter than the morning. And, although it had
+cost Aunt Ruth not a little to call up this dark shadow from the past,
+yet she felt repaid a thousandfold for her sacrifice. For that sweet
+young face, lovely as a May morning, but whose beauty had been often
+marred by the workings of deceit and falsehood, grew radiant in the
+clear light of that truthful purpose which was then born in her soul.</p>
+
+
+<a name="041"></a><center>
+<img src="images/041.gif" width="214" height="448" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="042"></a><center>
+<img src="images/042.gif" width="821" height="387" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="TwoWays"></a><h2>TWO WAYS OF READING THE BIBLE.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;Would you like another chapter, Lilian dear?&quot; asked Kate Everard of the
+invalid cousin whom she had lately come from Hampshire to nurse.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not now, thanks; my head is tired,&quot; was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>Kate closed her Bible with a feeling of slight disappointment. She knew
+that Lilian was slowly sinking under incurable disease, and what could
+be more suitable to the dying than constantly to be hearing the Bible
+read? Lilian might surely listen, if she were too weak to read for
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>Kate was never easy in mind unless she perused at least two or three
+chapters daily, besides a portion of the Psalms; and she had several
+times gone through the whole Bible from beginning to end. And here was
+Lilian, whose days on earth might be few, tired with one short chapter!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There must be something wrong here,&quot; thought Kate, who had never during
+her life kept her bed for one day through sickness. &quot;It is a sad thing
+when the dying do not prize the word of God.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lilian,&quot; said she, trying to soften her naturally quick, sharp tones
+to gentleness, &quot;I should think that now, when you are so ill, you would
+find special comfort in the Scriptures.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lilian's languid eyes had closed, but she opened them, and fixing her
+soft, earnest gaze upon her cousin, replied, &quot;I do—they are my support;
+I have been feeding on one verse all the morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what is that verse?&quot; asked Kate.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Whom I shall see for myself,'&quot; began Lilian slowly; but Kate cut her
+short—</p>
+
+<a name="044"></a><img src="images/044.gif" width="334" height="714"
+align="left" alt="[Illustration: &quot;Whom I shall see for
+myself.&quot;]" title="">
+
+<p>&quot;I know that verse perfectly—it is in Job; it comes just after 'I know
+that my Redeemer liveth;' the verse is, 'Whom I shall see for myself,
+and mine eyes shall behold, and not another.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What do you understand by the expression 'not another'?&quot; asked Lilian.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Really, I have never particularly considered those words,&quot; answered
+Kate. &quot;Have you found out any remarkable meaning in them?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They were a difficulty to me,&quot; replied the invalid, &quot;till I happened to
+read that in the German Bible they are rendered a little differently;
+and then I searched in my own Bible, and found that the word in the
+margin of it, is like that in the German translation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I never look at the marginal references,&quot; said Kate, &quot;though mine is a
+large Bible and has them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I find them such a help in comparing Scripture with Scripture,&quot;
+observed Lilian.</p>
+
+<p>Kate was silent for several seconds. She had been careful to read daily
+a large portion from the Bible; but to &quot;mark, learn, and inwardly digest
+it,&quot; she had never even thought of trying to do. In a more humble tone
+she now asked her cousin, &quot;What is the word which is put in the margin
+of the Bible instead of 'another' in that difficult text?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>A stranger</i>&quot; replied Lilian; and then, clasping her hands, she
+repeated the whole passage on which her soul had been feeding with
+silent delight:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and <i>not a
+stranger</i>.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Kate,&quot; continued the dying girl, while unbidden tears rose to her
+eyes, &quot;if you only knew what sweetness I have found in that verse all
+this morning while I have been in great bodily pain! I am in the Valley
+of the Shadow—I shall soon cross the dark river; I know it: but He
+will be with me, and 'not a stranger.' He is the Good Shepherd, and I
+know His voice; a stranger would I not follow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh,&quot; continued Lilian, &quot;in the glad resurrection morn, it is the Lord
+Jesus whom I shall behold—my own Saviour, my own tried friend, and 'not
+a stranger;' I shall at last see Him whom, not having seen, I have
+loved.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lilian closed her eyes again, and the large drops, overflowing, fell
+down her pallid cheeks; she had spoken too long for her strength, but
+her words had not been spoken in vain.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lilian has drawn more comfort and profit from one verse—nay, from
+three words in the Bible, than I have drawn from the whole book,&quot;
+reflected Kate. &quot;I have but read the Scriptures,—she has searched them.
+I have been like one floating carelessly over the surface of waters
+under which lie pearls; Lilian has dived deep and made the treasure her
+own.&quot;</p>
+
+<center>
+<img src="images/045.gif" width="462" height="134" alt="" title="">
+</center>
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+<a name="046"></a><center>
+<img src="images/046.gif" width="801" height="343" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="Courtesy"></a><h2>COURTESY TO STRANGERS</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;Who was that quiet appearing girl that came into church quite late,
+last Sabbath?&quot; I asked a friend of mine who was an active member in
+the church which I had recently joined.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did she wear a striped shawl and a dark dress?&quot; inquired my friend. &quot;If
+so, it was Annie Linton, a girl who is a seamstress in Mr. Brown's
+shop.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I did not notice her clothes in particular,&quot; I answered, &quot;but her face
+attracted me; I should know it among a thousand faces. How could you
+pass by a stranger so indifferently, Mrs. Greyson? I expected that you
+would ask her to remain at Sabbath school, and go into your Bible class,
+but you did not once look at her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I did not once think of it, and if I had, probably she would not have
+accepted the invitation, as she is a stranger in town, and undoubtedly
+will not remain here long,&quot; my friend replied quickly, by way of
+defense.</p>
+
+<p>I said nothing more, for Mrs. G. was really an excellent Christian
+woman, with this one fault—carelessness—which sometimes caused her to
+make grave mistakes.</p>
+
+<p>But I could not help thinking about the stranger girl. Her large, dark
+eyes and finely formed face revealed more than ordinary intelligence,
+and in some way I gained the impression that, if not a Christian
+already, she desired to be. It seemed to me that she left the church
+very reluctantly, and was half waiting an invitation to the Bible class.</p>
+
+<p>The next Sabbath she came again and occupied the same seat,—just in
+front of my own. She bowed her head very reverently during prayer, and
+once during the sermon I saw her lip quiver with emotion, and a tear
+came into her eye.</p>
+
+<p>The services closed, and the stranger lingered as before. My friend,
+good Mrs. G., again forgot to speak to the girl. She passed out of the
+church slowly, and did not come again.</p>
+
+<p>I thought she must have left town, as I had not seen her for several
+days; but one Sabbath, as I attended another church, I saw her again.
+She seemed a little more at ease, I thought, and there was a quiet smile
+on her face. After the services were concluded, I saw many a pleasant
+smile given to the stranger girl, and I understood the secret of the
+changed look upon her face. I made some inquiries, and learned that she
+had joined this church, and was earnest and active in all its work.</p>
+
+<p>I also learned that she had made a profession of religion just before
+coming to our village, and had an unusually happy experience. How much
+the indifference of our own people had to do with her finding a home in
+another church, I know not.</p>
+
+<p>Several years have passed since this occurred, but I have never
+forgotten it. Many a stranger's hand I have clasped, as I thought of
+Anna Linton's sweet face.</p>
+
+<p>I was young in Christian experience then, and that lesson was a
+profitable one to me.</p>
+
+<p>Speak to the stranger, Christian friend, with the assurance that God
+will bless your efforts to throw sunshine and cheer and welcome into the
+hearts of others—strangers though they be.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 55%;">
+
+<a name="LiveforSomething"></a><h3>LIVE FOR SOMETHING</h3><br>
+<center>
+<br>
+Live for something; be not idle—<br>
+Look about thee for employ;<br>
+Sit not down to useless dreaming—<br>
+Labor is the sweetest joy.<br>
+Folded hands are ever weary,<br>
+Selfish hearts are never gay,<br>
+Life for thee has many duties—<br>
+Live for something, while you may.<br>
+<br>
+Scatter blessings in thy pathway!<br>
+Gentle words and cheering smiles<br>
+Better are than gold and silver,<br>
+With their grief-dispelling wiles.<br>
+As the pleasant sunshine falleth<br>
+Ever on the grateful earth,<br>
+So let sympathy and kindness<br>
+Gladden well the darkened hearth.<br>
+</center>
+<br>
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="049"></a><center>
+<img src="images/049.gif" width="815" height="368" alt="" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<a name="jennie"></a><h2>JENNIE BROWNING</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>The light of a beautiful Sabbath was fast fading, and the last golden
+gleams fell softly upon the form of a light-haired little girl who sat
+by a cottage window, her head leaning upon her hand as if in deep
+thought.</p>
+
+<p>The sun had departed like a grand old monarch, leaving behind him a
+glory of purple and gold more beautiful than his own full splendor. Yet
+the little girl saw nothing of all this beauty. She was thinking of the
+story in the Sabbath school book she had been reading,—the story of a
+child's life; and she wondered if all that happened in the story could
+be really true.</p>
+
+<p>Jennie was pondering in her troubled brain a question which the reading
+of the book had brought. What could it be? Evidently it was not to be
+answered easily, for her face only grew more clouded, until at last she
+resolved to ask the help of some wiser mind.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately, Jennie knew that she had but to make her perplexities
+known to her mother and they would all be explained in the clearest way;
+so, seating herself in her rocking-chair by her mother's side, she
+said:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mamma, I want you to tell me something.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, dear, what is it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've just finished my Sabbath school book, you know, and it's just
+perfectly lovely; all about the sweetest little girl; only she was
+always doing so many kind things for everybody; and I've been trying to
+think what's the reason little girls in books always have so many
+chances for doing good, and little girls like me, who are out of books,
+don't have any at all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not any at all?&quot; questioned the mother. &quot;Is that really so?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, no, not quite, I suppose,&quot; said Jennie, &quot;but then they are just
+nothing but the tiniest little bits of things. There's never anything
+big and splendid for real little girls like me to do.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, Susy Chrystie, in the story, took her little sister May out for a
+walk, and just while they were crossing a bridge, May pulled her hand
+away from Susy's, and tried to walk on the edge, just as close as she
+could; but in about one second her foot slipped, and she would have
+fallen off into the water if her sister hadn't jumped right to her, and
+caught hold of her dress, and pulled her back all safe.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now just think, mamma,&quot; said Jennie, her blue eyes opening widely as
+she spoke, &quot;Susy Chrystie saved her little sister's life; wasn't that a
+splendid, big something to do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, my dear, that was a brave thing for a little girl to do, for even
+an older person might have been too frightened by seeing the danger May
+was in, to act quickly; but if my little Jennie will always try to keep
+quite still, and never scream when any sudden fright comes to her, she
+too may be able to think quickly of the best way in which to help
+herself or others.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="051"></a><center>
+<img src="images/051.gif" width="529" height="260" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Susy Chrystie saved her little sister's life</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>&quot;But, mamma, you know that nothing ever does happen to me; and besides,
+I haven't any little sister or brother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Never mind, my child, if you will do carefully everything you do
+understand, and obey cheerfully even when you cannot see why you should,
+you will please your heavenly Father and give me comfort and pleasure,
+and perhaps some day you may have a chance to do something brave.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jennie's face grew brighter, as it always did when she had confided her
+griefs to mamma, and for many days she watched and waited anxiously,
+thinking that at any time something might happen.</p>
+
+<p>And so it did; for one day a letter came from Jennie's aunt, Mrs.
+Graham, saying she would come and spend a few days with her sister, and
+bring with her little Willie, a boy about two years old.</p>
+
+<p>Of course they were very welcome, and Jennie greatly enjoyed playing
+with her cousin. He was a charming fellow, but very fond of having his
+own way; and one of his great enjoyments was to plunge two chubby hands
+into Jennie's thick, light hair, and pull it with all his might.</p>
+
+<a name="052"></a><img src="images/052.gif" width="297" height="443"
+align="right" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>He pulled Jennie's hair with
+all his might</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+
+
+<p>Of course this was a short-lived pleasure when any older person saw him,
+but when they were alone, Jennie would endure the pain patiently until
+she could coax the little fellow to let go.</p>
+
+<p>She never gave him a cross word, and when the nurse would say
+impatiently, &quot;Indade, thin, Miss Jennie, it's a wonder ye don't just
+shlap his hands!&quot; she would answer gravely, &quot;Oh, no, he's so much
+littler than I am.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Yet Jennie was not perfect, and though she generally tried to do what
+was right, sometimes, like the rest of the world, she wanted to do what
+she knew was wrong.</p>
+
+<p>One bright afternoon, when she was playing in the yard, her mother
+called her:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your aunt and I must ride to the station directly, to meet uncle and
+your father, and I would like to have you go quietly into the nursery
+and sit there until Maggie returns from an errand; it will not be long.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But Willie is sound asleep, mamma, he doesn't want me,&quot; said Jennie,
+who was anxious to stay out of doors.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, dear, I know it, but we shall feel safer to have some one in the
+room, even if he is asleep; something may happen if he is alone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Jennie, however, was so unwilling to sit quietly in the house that even
+these familiar words did not attract her, but with slow steps and a
+sullen face, she obeyed her mother's wishes.</p>
+
+<p>She knew quite well how slight a thing she had been asked to do, and
+although at another time she would not have objected, just now, when she
+wanted to do something else, it seemed very hard to give up her own
+will.</p>
+
+<a name="054"></a><img src="images/054.gif" width="285" height="340"
+align="left" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>A small flame burst out from the
+rug</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+
+<p>Her conscience was so disagreeable, too, for it would keep saying all
+the time, &quot;I am ashamed of you, Jennie Browning! Can't you do this for
+your kind mamma, even if you do want to do something else?&quot; How tiresome
+it all was, and how she wished she could &quot;just do as she liked!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Thoughts like these were filling Jennie's mind as she stood looking out
+of the nursery window; but all at once she was aroused by the strong
+smell of burning woolen.</p>
+
+<p>Turning quickly, the child grew almost rigid with fear as she saw, just
+in front of her, a small flame burst out from the rug before the fire,
+and not far from the crib where Willie lay sleeping. In an instant,
+however, the thought &quot;What shall I do?&quot; was followed by the remembrance
+of what her mother had often said, &quot;If in any way your dress should ever
+take fire, you must try to smother it at once; never run away, but throw
+yourself down, or wrap yourself in anything to be found.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Remembering this, she hastily caught up the other end of the rug, which
+was large and heavy, and threw it over the flame. This quite
+extinguished it, for it had only just started into life when Jennie saw
+it; but in her zeal she tore off the bedspread and blankets, crowning
+all with two large pillows upon which she seated herself, for by this
+time the child was so confused that she hardly knew whether it was the
+rug or her own dress which had taken fire.</p>
+
+<a name="055"></a><img src="images/055.gif" width="272" height="298"
+align="right" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>She piled on the blankets and
+sat on them</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+
+<p>Now she wanted to see somebody, and, not daring to move, she began to
+scream. This wakened Willie, who added his voice to the uproar, and soon
+brought the bewildered nurse to the rescue.</p>
+
+<p>In less than an hour the carriage returned, and Jennie was kissed and
+praised more than she had ever been in all her happy life, by her
+parents and her aunt and uncle; for they saw quickly what had happened,
+and trembled to think what might have been.</p>
+
+<p>That night as Mrs. Graham bent to give Jennie her good-night kiss, she
+whispered, &quot;May God bless you, my thoughtful little niece, for you have
+saved your cousin's life to-day!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, did I really?&quot; thought Jennie; &quot;how glad, how glad I am; for if I
+hadn't been there, the fire would have caught the crib, and oh, that
+would have been awful!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then, as memory brought the scene more clearly before her, and she
+recollected how her conscience had fairly pushed her into the room, her
+little face grew red with shame, and she softly said, &quot;I will never
+fight with conscience again, for if I had had my own way, I could never
+have saved poor Willie's life.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 55%;">
+
+<a name="pastfuture"></a><h3>PAST AND FUTURE</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div style="margin-left: +12em;">
+The past is lost to us—the book is sealed,<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">By mortal ne'er to be unclosed again;</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The past is gone—beyond all human power</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To change the record of but one short hour,</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Though since repented of in tears and pain.</span><br>
+<br>
+The future lies before us—a fair page,<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Whereon 'tis ours to write whate'er we will!</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then let us pause in case our careless hand</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shall make a stain which will forever stand,</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Through endless time a silent witness still.</span><br>
+<br>
+'Tis not enough to keep the pages pure,<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And let them ever but a blank remain;</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Each leaf in turn should on its surface bear</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Some writing that shall stand out clear and fair,</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To prove our lives have not been spent in vain.</span><br>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<center><a name="057"></a>
+<img src="images/057.gif" width="803" height="342" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="annadifficulty"></a><h2>ANNA'S DIFFICULTY</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Our friend Anna came home from school one day with her sunny face all in
+a cloud, and looking as if it might presently get a sprinkling of tears.
+There was one to whom she always went in trouble, besides that other One
+whom she tried never to forget, and she sought her best earthly friend
+now.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother, I do think it is really mean and rude in the Wilsons that they
+pass me by when nearly all the class of girls are invited. I don't want
+to feel bad about such a thing, but I can't help it. I don't know as
+anybody likes to be slighted.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course not, my daughter,&quot; said Mrs. Jones; &quot;the feeling of having
+been rudely treated is always uncomfortable. What do you suppose is the
+reason you are not included in the party?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is because the Wilsons feel above us, mother. The girls dress in
+finer clothes than I do, and have more accomplishments; and then we work
+for a living, and they do not. But, mother, I believe I am as
+intelligent and well-bred as they. I can't bear it, mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is not pleasant, to be sure, Anna; but think again, darling, before
+you say you <i>can not</i> bear it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, mother, who could? Nobody but you, who seem to have a way of
+getting round hard places, or walking through them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have had many more years of experience in life than you. But I wish
+you to think now whether there is not some way for you to bear this
+little vexation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, mother, I know what you always say, and that, of course, is
+right; but I don't see how feeling and acting like a Christian takes
+away one's natural feeling about being slighted and ill-treated by
+others.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps it does not. I sometimes think one's sensibilities are greatly
+intensified by leading the better life. A Christian, in trying to bring
+his own character up to the point of perfect love and honor, often
+becomes exacting of such perfection in others, and failing to find it,
+feels exquisite pain. Yet the pain will oftener be because God's great
+principles of right are violated, than that his personal feelings are
+hurt. Which is easier for you, child, to be wounded in personal feeling,
+or to see what is wrong against God?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I never thought exactly; it is dreadful to see the wrong, but one feels
+in the other a sense of shame—feels so wronged—it is quite different.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My precious one,&quot; said Mrs. Jones, &quot;when you have so learned the love
+of God as to know no difference between the interests and the honor of
+his law, and your own comfort and pleasure and good name, you will see
+more clearly how this is, and feel, it is likely, the sense of shame and
+wrong in a different way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, mother, haven't we a right to feel hurt when we are wronged or
+slighted—I mean personally hurt?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; but may be if we looked a little deeper into the principles of
+things, or our own principles, we should not suffer so much. What is the
+secret of your feeling hurt by the Wilsons? Does the slight make your
+real self in any respect less or worse? Does it injure you in the
+estimation of others?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why no, mother, I suppose not; but I am as good and as much respected
+as they are; and I don't like to have it seem that I am beneath them
+because I am not so rich, and all that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear, I believe we have talked this subject over before, and long
+ago understood that we desire no position, no companionship which is not
+ours by right of moral and intellectual character.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is the Christian principle to live in all things for the true and
+the right; to be willing to take our own place in business and society,
+and fill it well; to think less of what others think of us than of what
+we in ourselves are; to appear to be only what we are, and be willing to
+appear thus while we are always looking up to something wiser, and
+lovelier, and better.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I never could get the idea of a Christian's being above or beneath any
+one in the sense you mean. His associations are, or should be, such as
+Christ's were in His walk among men. Christ, infinitely endowed with all
+excellence and beauty, was also infinitely humble. He neither sought nor
+shunned any one for His own sake, but lived out the divine fullness of
+His life of suffering and love without regard to His position or
+popularity with men. I said He did not seek others, but I must except
+the beloved John, and the household at Bethany, and a few others whom He
+loved undoubtedly for their own sake, with a personal, human sort of
+attachment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You don't mean, mother, that we should never seek people for their own
+sake or our own pleasure?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, surely; but those only who are congenial in principles and life.
+Treat others with courtesy and generosity, and after that, allow them to
+be as indifferent to you as you are to those whom you do not prefer.
+Every person has a right to select his companions, and every one should
+possess enough personal dignity and generosity not to be offended if he
+is not preferred.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suspect you are wrong about the Wilson's. If they do not prefer you
+for your own sake, they have the right not to do so, and you should
+accord it to them just as you take the privilege of not inviting certain
+others who might feel the same about you as you do toward the Wilsons.
+And more than this, Anna; if the Wilsons live for different principles,
+making friends for other reasons than you do, why, indeed, should you
+care for their especial regard? A friendship built upon the accidents of
+fortune, distinction, or show, has but a sandy foundation at best.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is no security of happiness in any earthly advantage. Only take
+care to be in yourself what in your circumstances is noble and beautiful
+and good, and you will find the right position without any particular
+seeking. The love and approval of the good and pure will come to you,
+and that is what you want of any friendship, and nothing more.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Half the personal ill-feeling in the world comes of people's aspiring
+to what they have no fitness for; they have neither the dignity nor the
+humility to take the place God in His providence assigns them; and
+instead of reaching out of it by making themselves nobler and better,
+they attempt to build up by some appearance which is not more than half
+true.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The real Christian will not want a name or a reputation which he does
+not by right of goodness or talent deserve; but by living well where he
+may be, he makes any duty, any position, honorable and good. He has
+nothing to do with the <i>false</i>; he can afford to seem in all things what
+he is, and to depend for love and favor on his consciousness of worth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, mother, I never thought of depending upon anything else. The
+Wilsons know that I am their equal in the school room, and in all the
+qualities which they ought to respect.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You remember we spoke of a right of choice on their part; and now are
+you, a Christian, going to be hurt because fashionable people do not
+court you? Can you not yet think of a way to bear the vexation? Is it,
+indeed, so much of a trial, as you think it all over?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know, little daughter, that Christians can look at these things
+only in the light the Christ-life sheds on their souls, on all their
+earthly relations, on the path that leads them up to the Source of
+light, truth and right. Think of it, and tell me to-morrow if you can
+bear to be slighted by the Wilsons.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="062"></a><img src="images/062.gif" width="258" height="347" align="right" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;Well, Anna, have you come to a conclusion?&quot;</i>]" title="">
+
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Anna,&quot; said Mrs. Jones the next day, &quot;have you come to a
+conclusion?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Really, mother,&quot; said Anna, &quot;you have a great way of taking the sting
+out of uncomfortable things. I wonder if I shall ever get so as not to
+care for my own sake.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That will depend upon how closely you are united to God. If you live
+the true Christ-life, nothing of the sort will hurt you much; the
+consciousness of being right, the joy of His approval, will suffice you.
+But what about the Wilsons?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, mother, nothing about them; I don't think I shall feel bad any
+more. If they do not care for me, I shall not for them, only to be kind
+and polite; and I am sure I want no one's favor who does not love me for
+just what I am, and for trying to become better than I am. I shall go to
+school very happy to-day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am truly glad, Anna; but always remember this: Every soul is created
+by the same God—purchased by the blood of the same Saviour, and has an
+individual life as dear to God as any other life.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Christian is peculiarly precious to Him, and however humble in this
+world's estimate, is an heir to His eternal glory and happiness; and so
+the Christian should, whatever may be his gifts or calling, possess that
+quietness and dignity of spirit, that, resting in the consciousness of
+God's love and approval, he will not be greatly moved by the applause or
+the displeasure of his fellows.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And so, mother, it saves a great many uncomfortable feelings to be a
+Christian.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It saves a great amount of disappointed pride and wounded vanity, gives
+many a sweet night's sleep in thinking God will take care of our
+reputation, being willing to be what and where He will have us to be.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;On the whole, Anna, it is a happier, more comfortable thing, for the
+relations even of this life, to be a Christian; not a half-way disciple,
+but a whole-heart-and-soul believer, who keeps no reserves to sting
+conscience with. He will not feel a thousand things that sting others;
+and the real troubles that he must bear are shared by Him who has
+promised to carry our human sorrows.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Be at peace with God, dear child, and let the love which that peace
+brings, speak in the very tones of your voice, in your manners, and in
+your ways. Then you need not be embarrassed if duty calls you either to
+a palace or to a hovel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall get my lessons better to-day for that thought, mother. I shall
+not feel half so vexed if I fail when I have done the best I can.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is the intention of religion always, my child, to keep the
+possessor calm, assured, and quite aside from the little jostlings and
+vexations of a self-seeking life.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>&quot;The past is written, the future is beyond our control, but to-day is
+ours, and is an opportunity to bestow a gift which will be more welcome
+than any that money can purchase. There should be no guesswork
+concerning affection; 'make it plain,' 'write it large.' 'Silence is
+golden' when it represses bitter words or ignorant comment, but it sinks
+like lead into the heart which has a right to expect tender and trustful
+utterances.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="065"></a><center>
+<img src="images/065.gif" width="806" height="441" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+<br>
+<a name="companymanners"></a><h2>COMPANY MANNERS</h2>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said Bessie, very emphatically, &quot;I think Russel Morton is the
+best boy there is, anyhow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why so, pet?&quot; I asked, settling myself in the midst of the busy group
+gathered around in the firelight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can tell,&quot; interrupted Wilfred, &quot;Bessie likes Russ because he is so
+polite.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't care, you may laugh,&quot; said frank little Bess; &quot;that <i>is</i> the
+reason—at least, one of them. He's nice; he don't stamp and hoot in the
+house, and he never says, 'Halloo Bess,' or laughs when I fall on the
+ice.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bessie wants company manners all of the time,&quot; said Wilfred. And Bell
+added: &quot;We should all act grown up, if we wanted to suit her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Dauntless Bessie made haste to retort. &quot;Well, if growing up would make
+some folks more agreeable, it's a pity we can't hurry about it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wilfred, what are company manners?&quot; I questioned from the depths of my
+easy chair.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why—why—they're—it's <i>behaving</i>, you know, when folks are here, or
+we go a visiting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Company manners are good manners;&quot; said Horace.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O yes,&quot; answered I, meditating on it. &quot;I see; manners that are <i>too</i>
+good—for mamma—but just right for Mrs. Jones.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That's it,&quot; cried Bess.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But let us talk it over a bit. Seriously, why should you be more polite
+to Mrs. Jones than to mamma? Do you love her better?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O my! no indeed,&quot; chorused the voices.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, then, I don't see why Mrs. Jones should have all that's
+agreeable; why the hats should come off and the tones soften, and
+'please,' and 'thank you,' and 'excuse me,' should abound in her house,
+and not in mamma's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh! that's very different.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And mamma knows we mean all right. Besides, you are not fair, cousin;
+we were talking about boys and girls—not grown up people.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Thus my little audience assailed me, and I was forced to a change of
+base.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, about boys and girls, then. Can not a boy be just as happy, if,
+like our friend Russel, he is gentle to the little girls, doesn't pitch
+his little brother in the snow, and respects the rights of his cousins
+and intimate friends? It seems to me that politeness is just as suitable
+to the playground as the parlor.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, of course; if you'd have a fellow give up all fun,&quot; said Wilfred.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear boy,&quot; said I, &quot;that isn't what I want. Run, and jump, and shout
+as much as you please; skate, and slide, and snowball; but do it with
+politeness to other boys and girls, and I'll agree you shall find just
+as much fun in it.</p>
+
+<a name="067"></a><img src="images/067.gif" width="275" height="401" align="right" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;It is Burke who brings a glass of water.&quot;</i>]" title="">
+
+
+<p>&quot;You sometimes say I pet Burke Holland more than any of my
+child-friends. Can I help it? For though he is lively and sometimes
+frolicsome, his manners are always good. You never see him with his
+chair tipped up, or his hat on in the house. He never pushes ahead of
+you to get first out of the room. If you are going out, he holds open
+the door; if weary, it is Burke who brings a glass of water, places a
+chair, hands a fan, springs to pick up your handkerchief,—and all this
+without being told to do so, or interfering with his own gayety in the
+least.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This attention isn't only given to me as the guest, or to Mrs. Jones
+when he visits her, but to mamma, Aunt Jenny, and little sister, just as
+carefully; at home, in school, or at play, there is always just so much
+guard against rudeness.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;His courtesy is not merely for state occasions, but it is like a
+well-fitting garment worn constantly. His manliness is genuine loving
+kindness. In fact, that is exactly what real politeness is; carefulness
+for others, and watchfulness over ourselves, lest our angles shall
+interfere with their comfort.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It is impossible for boys and girls to realize, until they have grown
+too old, easily to adopt new ones, how important it is to guard against
+contracting careless and awkward habits of speech and manners. Some very
+unwisely think it is not necessary to be so very particular about these
+things except when company is present. But this is a grave mistake, for
+coarseness will betray itself in spite of the most watchful care.</p>
+
+<p>It is impossible to indulge in one form of speech, or have one set of
+manners at home, and another abroad, because in moments of confusion or
+bashfulness, such as every young person feels sometimes who is sensitive
+and modest, the every day mode of expression will discover itself.</p>
+
+<p>It is not, however, merely because refinements of speech and grace of
+manners are pleasing to the sense, that our young friends are
+recommended to cultivate and practice them. Outward refinement of any
+kind reacts as it were on the character and makes it more sweet and
+gentle and lovable, and these are qualities that attract and draw about
+the possessor a host of kind friends.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+<a name="069"></a><center>
+<img src="images/069.gif" width="809" height="403" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center><br>
+
+<a name="confidemother"></a><h2>CONFIDE IN MOTHER</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>The moment a girl hides a secret from her mother, or has received a
+letter she dare not let her mother read, or has a friend of whom her
+mother does not know, she is in danger.</p>
+
+<p>A secret is not a good thing for a girl to have. The fewer secrets that
+lie in the hearts of women at any age, the better. It is almost a test
+of purity. She who has none of her own is best and happiest.</p>
+
+<p>In girlhood, hide nothing from your mother; do nothing that, if
+discovered by your mother, would make you blush. When you are married,
+never conceal anything from your husband. Never allow yourself to write
+a letter that he may not know all about, or to receive one which you are
+not quite willing that he should read.</p>
+
+<p>Have no mysteries whatever. Tell those who are about you, where you go,
+and what you do,—those who have the right to know, I mean, of course.</p>
+
+<p>A little secretiveness has set many a scandal afloat; and much as is
+said about women who tell too much, they are a great deal better off
+than the woman who tells too little.</p>
+
+<p>The girl who frankly says to her mother, &quot;I have been there, I met
+so-and-so. Such and such remarks were made, and this or that was done,&quot;
+will be sure to receive good advice and sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>If all was right, no fault will be found. If the mother knows as the
+result of her greater experience, that something was improper or
+unsuitable, she will, if she is a Christian mother, kindly advise her
+daughter accordingly.</p>
+
+<p>You may not always know, girls, just what is right or what is
+wrong,—for you are yet young and inexperienced. You can not be blamed
+for making little mistakes, but you will not be likely to go very far
+wrong, if from the first, you have no secrets from your mother.</p>
+
+<p>To thy father and thy mother Honor, love, and reverence pay; This
+command, before all other, Must a Christian child obey.</p>
+
+<p>Help me, Lord, in this sweet duty; Guide me in Thy steps divine; Show me
+all the joy and beauty Of obedience such as thine.</p>
+
+<p>Teach me how to please and gladden Those who toil and care for me; Many
+a grief their heart must sadden, Let me still their comfort be.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+<a name="071"></a><center>
+<img src="images/071.gif" width="800" height="393" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center><br>
+
+<a name="tookmein"></a><h2>THEY TOOK ME IN</h2>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Who is she?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Couldn't say. She is a stranger here, I think.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, she lives in that little house down by the bridge, you know,
+girls, that tiny bit of a house covered with that white rose.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where we always got such lots of flowers to decorate with because no
+one ever lived there. Why, the house is almost tumbled down. How can
+anyone live there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No one would if they were not very poor. Of course you can tell by the
+girl's clothes that she is poor.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come on, girls, never mind talking about her,&quot; said one of the number
+impatiently. &quot;What difference does it make to us who she is? We will be
+late,&quot; and the troop of merry girls passed on down the street.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime the subject of this conversation was hurrying in another
+direction, her eyes blinded by the quick tears that had sprung unbidden
+to them when the wistful glance she had cast at the girls had been met
+with only those of cold curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is hard to be so alone,&quot; she murmured, &quot;but I must not let mamma
+know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The girls went on their way, unconscious of the wistful look, or
+unthinking that they had been in any way unkind.</p>
+
+<p>Nellie Ross had noticed, however, and she was thoughtful all the
+afternoon. How must it feel, she wondered, to be alone among strangers.
+As they were returning home toward night, she whispered to her
+particular friend:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know, Mabel, I can not help thinking of that girl we met this
+morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What girl?&quot; asked Mabel Willis, with a slightly puzzled air.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, the one that Margaret said lived in the little cottage you know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O yes. What about her?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why she looked at us so wistfully, and I never see her with anyone; she
+must be lonely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know what the Bible says,&quot; slowly: &quot;'I was a stranger and ye took
+Me not in.' This girl is a stranger and don't you think we might apply
+that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just what are you thinking of, Nellie?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was thinking that we might call on her and ask her to join our
+Sabbath school class, and that might open the way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mabel laughed. &quot;You always were a regular missionary, Nellie; but I
+hardly believe I care to go with you,&quot; with a shrug of her shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>Nellie was disappointed, but she said no more for she had learned the
+uselessness of arguing with Mabel, so she determined to make her call
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>Nellie felt a little timid as she presented herself at the tiny home the
+next afternoon. The girl herself answered her rap, and invited her into
+the wee living room. In an easy chair at one side of the fireplace
+reclined a delicate, sweet-faced woman.</p>
+
+<a name="073"></a><center>
+<img src="images/073.gif" width="500" height="340" alt="[Illustration: &quot;'<i>I thank you, my dear,' said the woman</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>&quot;My name is Nellie Ross, and I have noticed you and thought you were a
+stranger here,&quot; began Nellie in the winning way that had always won her
+many friends, &quot;and so I thought I would call and ask you to join our
+Sabbath school class. We have such good times, and Mrs. Allen, our
+teacher, is so interesting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would like to go,&quot; the girl faltered; &quot;but they are all such
+strangers to me, and&quot;—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That will not matter,&quot; declared Nellie. &quot;I will come for you and will
+introduce you to the rest of the girls.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thank you, my dear,&quot; said the woman, before the girl could answer
+again. &quot;I am sure Edna will be glad to go. It has been rather a trying
+time for her, I fear, since we came here, although she has never
+complained, for fear it might worry me.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She was always in church and Sabbath school work at home. But my health
+failed, and the physician said a winter here might save my life.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My husband could not come with me, for he must work at home to get
+money to pay our expenses, so Edna gave up her school and everything to
+come with me. We are compelled to live very cheaply, you see, but I am
+getting better, and I think I shall get quite well, if only Edna can be
+contented here,&quot; with a fond glance at her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course, I shall be contented mamma,&quot; replied Edna.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm sure she will like the Sabbath school very much,&quot; said Nellie,
+earnestly, &quot;and I will come for her to-morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She did so, and Edna went with her, although she felt a little shy, but
+the warm welcome given her by Mrs. Allen, and the friendliness of the
+girls, soon made her feel at home. It was not until the school joined in
+singing the last song, that she so far forgot herself as to join in the
+singing. Then the girls were astonished. She sang alto beautifully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Really,&quot; cried one of them as soon as they were dismissed, &quot;you must
+join our young people's choir, will you? We do need an alto so badly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>From that time on, Edna had no cause for loneliness, for she was one of
+the girls, and her mother smiled and grew better.</p>
+
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *</span><br>
+
+<p>You will see the pools of stagnant water frozen through the winter,
+while the little running streams are bounding along between fringes of
+icy gems. Why is this? The streams have something else to do than to
+stand still and be frozen up. Be you like them. Keep your heart warm by
+feeling for others, and your powers active by work done in earnest.</p>
+
+<p>JOHN HALL.</p>
+
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *</span><br>
+
+<p>A house built on sand is in fair weather just as good as if built on a
+rock. A cobweb is as good as the mightiest chain cable where there is no
+strain on it. It is trial that proves one thing weak and another strong.</p>
+
+<p>BEECHER.</p>
+
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; *</span><br>
+
+<p>Little self-denials, little honesties, little passing words of sympathy,
+little nameless acts of kindness, little silent victories over favorite
+temptations—these are the silent threads of gold which, when woven
+together, gleam out so brightly in the pattern of life that God
+approves.</p>
+
+<p>DEAN FARRAR.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="076"></a><center>
+<img src="images/076.gif" width="803" height="348" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>You were not here yesterday</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+<br>
+
+<a name="littlesisters"></a><h2>THE LITTLE SISTERS</h2>
+
+
+<p>&quot;You were not here yesterday,&quot; said the gentle teacher of the little
+village school, as she placed her hand kindly on the curly head of one
+of her pupils. It was recess time, but the little girl had not gone to
+frolic away the ten minutes, she had not even left her seat, but sat
+absorbed in a seemingly vain attempt to make herself mistress of an
+example in long division.</p>
+
+<p>Her face and neck crimsoned at the remark of her teacher, but looking
+up, she seemed somewhat reassured by the kind glance that met her, and
+answered:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, ma'am, I was not, but sister Nelly was.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I remember there was a little girl who called herself Nelly Gray, who
+came in yesterday, but I did not know she was your sister. But why did
+you not come? You seem to love to study very much.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was not because I didn't want to,&quot; was the earnest answer, and then
+she paused and the deep flush again tinged her fair brow; &quot;but,&quot; she
+continued after a moment of painful embarrassment, &quot;mother can not
+spare both of us conveniently, and so we are going to take turns. I'm
+going to school one day, and sister the next, and to-night I'm to teach
+Nelly all I have learned to-day, and to-morrow night she will teach me
+all that she learns while here. It's the only way we can think of
+getting along, and we want to study very much, so that sometime we will
+be able to teach school ourselves, and take care of mother, because she
+has to work very hard to take care of us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The teacher asked no more questions, but sat down beside her, and in a
+moment explained the rule over which she was puzzling her young brain,
+so that the hard example was easily finished.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You would better go out and take the air a few moments; you have
+studied very hard to-day,&quot; said the teacher, as the little girl put
+aside the slate.</p>
+
+<a name="077"></a><img src="images/077.gif" width="299" height="387" align="left" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;The teacher sat down beside her and explained the
+rule.&quot;</i>]" title="">
+
+
+<p>&quot;I would rather not,—I might tear my dress,—I will stand by the window
+and watch the rest.&quot; The dress was nothing but a cheap calico, but it
+was neatly made and had never been washed. While looking at it, she
+remembered that during the whole previous fortnight, she had never seen
+her wear but that one dress. &quot;She is a thoughtful little girl,&quot; said she
+to herself, &quot;and does not want to made her mother any trouble. I wish I
+had more such scholars.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The next morning Mary was absent, but her sister occupied her seat,
+There was something so interesting in the two little sisters, the one
+eleven, and the other eighteen months younger, agreeing to attend school
+by turns, that the teacher noticed them very closely.</p>
+
+<p>They were pretty faced children, of delicate forms, the elder with dark
+eyes and chestnut curls, the other with eyes like the sky of June, her
+white neck covered by a wealth of golden ringlets. The teacher noticed
+in both, the same close attention to their studies, and as Mary stayed
+indoors during recess, so did Nelly; and upon speaking to her as she had
+to her sister, she received the same answer, &quot;I might tear my dress.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The reply caused Miss M—— to notice the dress of her sister. She saw
+at once that it was of the same piece as Mary's, in fact, she became
+certain that it was the same dress. It did not fit quite so nicely on
+Nelly, and was too long for her, and she was evidently ill at ease when
+she noticed her teacher looking at the bright pink flowers that were so
+thickly set on the white ground.</p>
+
+<p>The discovery was one that could not but interest the teacher. Though
+short of means herself, that same night she purchased a dress of the
+same material for little Nelly, and made arrangements with the merchant
+to send it to her in such a way that the donor need never be known.</p>
+
+<p>Very bright and happy looked Mary Gray on Friday morning, as she entered
+the school at an early hour. She waited only to place her books in neat
+order in her desk, ere she approached the teacher, and whispering in a
+voice that laughed in spite of her efforts to make it low and
+deferential.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;After this week sister Nelly is coming to school every day, and oh, I
+am so glad!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is very good news,&quot; replied the teacher kindly. &quot;Nelly is fond of
+her books, I see, and I am happy to know that she can have an
+opportunity to study them every day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then she continued, a little good-natured mischief in her eyes,—&quot;But
+can your mother spare you both conveniently?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, ma'am, yes ma'am, she can now. Something happened that she
+didn't expect, and she is as glad to have us come as we are to do so.&quot;
+She hesitated a moment, but her young heart was filled to the brim with
+joy, and when a child is happy, it is as natural to tell the cause as it
+is for a bird to warble when the sun shines. So out of the fullness of
+her heart she spoke and told her teacher this little story:—</p>
+
+<p>She and her sister were the only children of a poor widow, whose health
+was so delicate that it was almost impossible to support herself and
+daughters. She was obliged to keep them out of school all winter, as
+they had no suitable clothes to wear, but she told them that if they
+could earn enough to buy each of them a new dress, by doing odd chores
+for the neighbors, they might go in the spring.</p>
+
+<p>Very earnestly had the little girls improved their stray chances, and
+very carefully hoarded the copper coins which usually repaid them. They
+had nearly saved enough to buy a dress, when Nelly was taken sick, and
+as the mother had no money beforehand, poor Nelly's money had to be used
+for medicine.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I did feel so bad when school opened and Nelly could not go,
+because she had no dress,&quot; said Mary. &quot;I told mother I wouldn't go
+either, but she said I would better, for I could teach sister some, and
+it would be better than no schooling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I stood it for a fortnight, but Nelly's little face seemed all the time
+looking at me on the way to school, and I couldn't be happy a bit, so I
+finally thought of a way by which we could both go. I told mother I
+would come one day, and the next I would lend Nelly my dress and she
+might come; that's the way we have done, this week. But last night,
+don't you think, somebody sent sister a dress just like mine, and now
+she can come too.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, if I only knew who it was, I would get down on my knees and thank
+them, and so would Nelly. But we don't know, and so we've done all we
+could for them,—we've prayed for them,—and Oh, Miss M——, we are all
+so glad now. Aren't you too?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Indeed I am,&quot; was the emphatic answer.</p>
+
+<p>The following Monday, little Nelly, in the new pink dress, entered the
+schoolroom with her sister. Her face was as radiant as a rose in
+sunshine, and approaching the teacher's table, she exclaimed:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am coming to school every day, and oh, I am so glad!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The teacher felt as she had never done before, that it is &quot;more blessed
+to give than to receive.&quot; No millionaire, when he saw his name in public
+prints, lauded for his thousand dollar charities, was ever so happy as
+the poor school-teacher who wore her gloves half a summer longer than
+she ought, and thereby saved enough to buy that little fatherless girl a
+calico dress.</p>
+
+<a name="081"></a><center>
+<img src="images/081.gif" width="526" height="359" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;Nellie entered the schoolroom with her sister.&quot;</i>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="082"></a><center>
+<img src="images/082.gif" width="792" height="353" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<br>
+<a name="valuable"></a><h2>A VALUABLE SECRET</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Sarah, I wish you would lend me your thimble. I can never find mine when
+I want it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why can not you find it, Mary?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you do not choose to lend me yours, I can borrow of somebody else.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am willing to lend it to you, Mary. Here it is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew you would let me have it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why do you always come to me to borrow when you have lost anything,
+Mary?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because you never lose your things, and always know where to find
+them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you suppose I always know where to find my things?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sure I cannot tell. If I knew, I might, perhaps, sometimes
+contrive to find my own.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is the secret. I have a place for everything, and after I have
+done using anything, it is my rule to put it away in its proper place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, just as though your life depended upon it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My life does not depend upon it, Mary, but my convenience does very
+much.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I never can find time to put my things away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How much more time will it take to put a thing away in its proper
+place, than it will be to hunt after it, when it is lost?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I'll never borrow of you again, you may depend on it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why? you are not offended, Mary, I hope!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no, Sarah. But I am ashamed that I have been so careless and
+disorderly, and now resolve to do as you do, to have a place for
+everything, and everything in its place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, Mary, this is a good resolution and will be easily carried out,
+if you bear in mind that, 'Heaven's first law is order.'&quot;</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 55%;">
+
+TRUE worth is in <i>being</i>, not <i>seeming</i>—<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In doing each day that goes by</span><br>
+<br>
+Some little good—not in the dreaming<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of great things to do by-and-by.</span><br>
+<br>
+We cannot make bargains for blisses,<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor catch them, like fishes, in nets;</span><br>
+<br>
+And sometimes the thing our life misses<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Helps more than the good that it gets.</span><br>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="084"></a><center> <img src="images/084.gif" width="807"
+height="414" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>What I can't tell mother, is not
+fit for me to know</i>.&quot;]" title=""> </center>
+<br>
+
+<a name="tellmom"></a><h2>TELLING MOTHER</h2>
+
+
+<p>A group of young girls stood about the door of the schoolroom one
+afternoon, whispering together, when a little girl joined them, and
+asked what they were doing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am telling the girls a secret, Kate, and we will let you know, if you
+will promise not to tell any one as long as you live,&quot; was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I won't tell any one but my mother,&quot; replied Kate. &quot;I tell her
+everything, for she is my best friend.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, not even your mother, no one in the world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, then I can't hear it; for what I can't tell mother, is not fit
+for me to know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After speaking these words, Kate walked away slowly, and perhaps sadly,
+yet with a quiet conscience, while her companions went on with their
+secret conversation.</p>
+
+<p>I am sure that if Kate continued to act on that principle, she became a
+virtuous, useful woman. No child of a Christian mother will be likely to
+take a sinful course, if Kate's reply is taken for a rule of conduct.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as a boy listens to conversations at school or on the
+playground, which he would fear or blush to repeat to his mother, he is
+in the way of temptation, and no one can tell where he will stop. Many a
+man dying in disgrace, in prison, or on the scaffold, has looked back
+with bitter remorse to the time when he first listened to a sinful
+companion who came between him and a pious mother.</p>
+
+<p>Girls, if you would be respected and honored in this life and form
+characters for heaven, make Kate's reply your rule:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;<i>What I cannot tell my mother is unfit for me to know.&quot;</i> No other
+person can have as great an interest in your welfare and prosperity as a
+true, Christian mother.</p>
+
+<p>Every girl should always remember that a Christian mother is her best
+earthly friend, from whom no secret should be kept.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 55%;">
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><p>HIGHEST aim and true endeavor; </p></div></div>
+<p>Earnest work, with patient might; </p>
+<p>Hoping, trusting, singing ever; </p>
+<p>Battling bravely for the right; </p>
+<p>Loving God, all men forgiving; </p>
+<p>Helping weaker feet to stand,—</p>
+<p>These will make a life worth living, </p>
+<p>Make it noble, make it grand.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+<a name="086"></a><center>
+<img src="images/086.gif" width="806" height="380" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+<br>
+<a name="schoollife"></a><h2>A STORY OF SCHOOL LIFE</h2>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, girls! I shall just die, I know I shall!&quot; exclaimed Belle Burnette,
+going off into a hysterical fit of laughter, which she vainly pretended
+to smother behind an elegant lace edged handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it, you provoking thing! Why don't you tell us, so we can laugh
+too?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well—you—see,&quot; she gasped out at last, &quot;we've got a new pupil—the
+queerest looking thing you ever saw. I happened to be in madam's room
+when she came. She came in the stage, and had a mite of an old-fashioned
+hair trunk, not much bigger than a band-box, and she came into madam's
+room with a funny little basket in her hand, and sat down as if she had
+come to stay forever.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Are you Madam Gazin?' she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Yes,' replied the teacher, 'that is my name.'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;'Well, I've come to stay a year at your school.'</p>
+
+<p>[Illustration: &quot;<i>That is just the amount, I believe</i>.&quot;]</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And then she pulled a handkerchief out of her basket, and unrolled it
+till she found an old leather wallet, and actually took out $250 and
+laid it in madam's hand, as she said:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is just the amount, I believe; will you please give me a receipt
+for it?'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You never saw madam look so surprised. She actually didn't know what to
+say for a minute, but she gave her the receipt, asked a few more
+questions, and had her taken to No. 10, and there she is now, this very
+minute.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, what was there so funny about all that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, this: she has red hair, tucked into a black net, and looks just
+like a fright, every way. She had on a brown delaine dress, without a
+sign of a ruffle, or trimming of any kind, and the shabbiest hat and
+shawl you ever saw. You'll laugh, too, when you see her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Belle Burnette was an only child, and her wealthy father was pleased to
+gratify her every whim. So, besides being far too elegantly dressed for
+a schoolgirl, she was supplied with plenty of pocket money, and being
+very generous and full of life and fun, she was the acknowledged leader
+among madam's pupils.</p>
+
+<p>When the tea bell rang, the new-comer was escorted to the dining-room,
+and introduced to her schoolmates as Miss Fannie Comstock. She had
+exchanged her brown delaine for a plain, calico dress, with a bit of
+white edging about the neck.</p>
+
+<a name="087"></a><center>
+<img src="images/087.gif" width="622" height="936" alt="[Illustration: &quot;That is just the amount, I believe</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>She did look rather queer, with her small, thin, freckled face, and her
+red hair brushed straight back from her face, and hidden as much as
+possible under a large, black net, and but for the presence of madam,
+her first reception would have been exceedingly unpleasant. She was shy
+and awkward, and evidently ill at ease among so many strangers.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as possible, she hastened back to the seclusion of her own room.
+The next day she was examined, and assigned to her place in the
+different classes, and to the surprise of all, she was far in advance of
+those of her age.</p>
+
+<p>But this did not awaken the respect of her schoolmates as it should have
+done. On the contrary, Belle Burnette and her special friends were
+highly indignant about it, and at once began a series of petty
+annoyances, whenever it was safe to do so. This kept poor Fannie
+miserable, indeed, although she seemed to take no notice of it.</p>
+
+<p>A few weeks passed by. Her lessons were always perfectly recited. She
+made no complaint of the slights and sneers of her companions, but kept
+out of their way as much as possible. Her thin face grew paler, however,
+and there were dark rings about her eyes. A watchful friend would have
+seen that all these things were wearing cruelly upon her young life.</p>
+
+<p>One day the very spirit of wickedness seemed let loose among the girls.
+Madam was away, and the other teachers were busy in their rooms. Fannie
+had been out for a walk and was near the door of her room, when a dozen
+or more of the girls surrounded her, clasping hands together so she was
+a prisoner in their midst.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment she begged piteously to be released, but they only laughed
+the more, and began walking around and around, singing something which
+Belle had composed,—cruel, miserable, insulting words.</p>
+
+<p>She stood for an instant, pale and still, then, with a piercing cry, she
+burst through the ring, rushed into her own room, closed and locked the
+door. Through their wild peals of laughter, the girls heard a strange
+moan and a heavy fall.</p>
+
+<a name="090"></a><center>
+<img src="images/090.gif" width="541" height="388" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>She begged piteously to be released</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>&quot;I believe she has fainted,&quot; said Belle.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What shall we do?&quot; questioned another.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment they stood there sober enough; then one of them ran for the
+matron, and told her that Fanny Comstock had fainted in her room, and
+that the door was locked.</p>
+
+<p>The matron ordered a long ladder put to the window, and sent the janitor
+to see if it was true. Fortunately the window was open, and in a few
+moments he had unlocked the door from the inside. The girls were huddled
+together in a frightened group, while madam lifted the poor girl and
+laid her upon her bed. She was in violent spasms.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor was sent for, but when the spasms ceased, alarming symptoms
+set in, and he pronounced it a serious case of brain fever. It is
+impossible to tell the shame and remorse of the conscience-stricken
+girls.</p>
+
+<p>They were not brave enough to confess their guilt, but hung around the
+sick room offering their services, vainly wishing that they might atone
+for it in some way. But their presence only excited the poor sufferer,
+so that they were all sent away.</p>
+
+<p>Day after day passed, and still the young sufferer raved in violent
+delirium.</p>
+
+<a name="092"></a><img src="images/092.gif" width="362" height="467"
+align="right" alt="[Illustration: <i>In the Sick Room</i>]" title="">
+
+<p>But amid all her wild ravings not a word of complaint at the ill
+treatment she had received ever escaped her lips.</p>
+
+<p>The little hair trunk was searched to find some clue to her friends, but
+there was nothing found in it but the plainest, scantiest supply of
+clothes.</p>
+
+<p>Day after day the doctor came, looking grave and anxious, and at last
+the crisis came. For many hours she lay as if dead, and not a sound was
+permitted to disturb the silence, while anxious watchers waited to see
+whether she would live or die.</p>
+
+<p>At last she opened her eyes; and the suspense was relieved by an
+assuring word from the doctor, that with careful nursing she would soon
+be well again. But her convalescence was slow and tedious.</p>
+
+<p>Her former tormentors dared not even yet show the true courage to
+confess what they had done, but they daily sent little bouquets of
+fragrant flowers and many delicacies to tempt her returning appetite.
+Her eyes would light up with surprise and pleasure at the little gifts.</p>
+
+<p>One day madam was sitting by her side, and as Fanny seemed to be much
+stronger, she ventured to ask after her friends.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have no friends, madam, only cousin John who has a large family of
+his own, and has never cared for me. Mother died when I was born. I had
+a step-mother, but father died five years after, and I've taken care of
+myself ever since.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you are only fifteen now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, ma'am.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How did you get money enough to pay for a year's board and tuition
+here?&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="093"></a><center> <img src="images/093.gif" width="542"
+height="443" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>I used to fix a book open on my
+loom</i>.&quot;]" title=""> </center>
+
+
+<p>&quot;I earned it all madam, every cent of it. As soon as I was big enough I
+went into a factory, and earned two dollars a week at first, and finally
+three dollars and a half; and I worked for my board nights and
+mornings.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor child!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh no, ma'am, I was very glad to do it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But how did you keep along so well with your studies?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I used to fix a book open on my loom, where I could catch a sentence
+now and then, and the overseer did not object, because I always did my
+work well. You see, madam, I wanted to be a teacher sometime, and I'd
+have a better chance to learn here than anywhere else, so I determined
+to do it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What are your plans for the long vacation?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must go back to the factory and earn enough to get some warmer
+clothes for the winter. You see, madam, why I can't afford to dress
+better.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Madam's heart was full. She bent over the white, thin, little face, and
+kissed it reverently.</p>
+
+<p>That evening, when the girls gathered in the chapel for worship, she
+told Fannie's story. There was not a dry eye in the room. The moment
+madam finished, Belle Burnette sprang up with the tears coursing down
+her cheeks, and said:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, madam! We have been awfully cruel and wicked to that poor girl. We
+have made fun of her from the first, and she would not have been sick as
+she was if we had not tormented her almost to death. I was the most to
+blame.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was I that led on the rest, and we have suffered terribly all these
+weeks, fearing she might die. You may expel me, or punish me in any way
+you please; for I deserve it; and I shall go down on my knees to ask her
+pardon, as soon as you will let me see her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My child, I am shocked to hear this. I can scarcely believe that any of
+my pupils would ill-treat a companion because she was so unfortunate as
+to be plain and poor. But you have made a noble confession, and I
+forgive you as freely as I believe she will, when she knows how truly
+you have repented of your unkindness.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>By degrees, as she was able to bear it, one after another went to Fannie
+and begged her forgiveness, which was freely granted. She said:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't wonder you made fun of me. I know I was poorly dressed, and
+awful homely. I would have pulled every hair out of my head long ago
+only I knew it would grow out as red as ever. But, oh! if I could have
+felt that I had just one friend among you all I could have borne it; but
+somehow it just broke my heart to have you all turn against me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After this she gained rapidly, and one fine morning the doctor said she
+might join the girls in the drawing room for an hour before tea. There
+had been a vast deal of whispering and hurrying to and fro of late,
+among the girls, of which Fannie had been totally unconscious.</p>
+
+<p>At the appointed time, madam herself came to assist her, and leaning
+upon her strong arm, the young girl walked feebly through the long hall
+and down the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear, the girls have planned a little surprise for you, to make the
+hour as pleasant as possible.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She opened the door and seated Fannie in an easy chair, as the girls
+came gliding in, with smiling faces, singing a sweet song of welcome. At
+its close Belle Burnette approached and placed a beautiful wreath of
+flowers upon her head, saying:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear Fannie, we crown you our queen to-day, knowing well how far above
+us all you are in His sight, who looketh upon the heart instead of the
+outward appearance. You have taught us a lesson we shall never forget,
+and we beg you to accept a token of sincere love and repentance for our
+treatment of you in the past, which you will find in your room on your
+return.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Fannie's eyes were full of tears, and she tried to say a word in reply,
+but madam spoke for her, and after another song, they followed their
+newly crowned queen to the dining-room, where a most tempting feast was
+laid in honor of the occasion.</p>
+
+<p>Fannie was quietly, tearfully happy through it all, yet so wearied with
+the unusual excitement that madam said she must not see the girl's
+&quot;peace offering&quot; that night.</p>
+
+<p>The first thing she saw the next morning was a fine large trunk, and
+lying upon it a card: &quot;For Miss Fannie Comstock, from her teacher and
+schoolmates.&quot; Opening it, she saw that it was packed full of newly
+folded garments, but she had no time to examine the contents until after
+breakfast, when they left her alone with her wonderful gifts.</p>
+
+<p>There were pretty dresses and sacques, a fine new parasol, gloves and
+ribbons, cuffs and collars in abundance—indeed, everything that a young
+schoolgirl could possibly need. Every one of madam's two hundred and ten
+pupils had contributed from their choicest and best, to furnish a
+complete outfit for their less favored mate.</p>
+
+<a name="097"></a><center>
+<img src="images/097.gif" width="449" height="652" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;On the floor, crying like a baby.&quot;</i>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<p>At the bottom was a well-filled writing desk, an album containing all
+their pictures, and a pretty purse containing $5, and the following note
+from madam:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;MY DEAR CHILD: This shall be a receipt in full for all expenses, during
+whatever time you may choose to remain in the seminary. This I present
+you as a sincere token of my love and respect.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;JEANNETTE GAZIN.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They found her at dinner time on the floor, surrounded by her new
+treasures, crying-like a baby; but it did her good. She was soon able to
+begin her studies once more, and was ever afterward treated with
+kindness and consideration, even though all her hair came out and left
+her head bald as her face, so that she had to wear a queer cap-like wig
+for many weeks.</p>
+
+<p>When the long vacation arrived, Belle carried her off to her beautiful
+home on the Hudson, where for the first time in her life she was
+surrounded with beauty and luxury on every side, and was treated as a
+loved and honored guest.</p>
+
+<p>It was not long before the hateful wig was cast aside, and Fannie's head
+was covered with a profusion of dark auburn curls, which were indeed a
+crown of glory that made her face almost beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>Gentle, loving, and beloved by all, she remained in the seminary until
+she graduated with honor, after which madam offered her the position of
+head teacher, with a most liberal salary, which she gratefully accepted.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+<a name="099"></a><center>
+<img src="images/099.gif" width="821" height="552" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+<br>
+
+
+<a name="HOW_BESS_MANAGED_TOM"></a><h2>HOW BESS MANAGED TOM</h2>
+
+
+<p>Tom's sister Nell was a pretty girl, and being a
+year older than Tom, wanted to show her authority
+over him.</p>
+
+<p>The boy was rough and awkward, and just at
+that age when a boy refuses all meddling with &quot;his
+rights.&quot; He would put his hands in his pockets,
+his chair on Nell's dress, and his feet on the
+window-sill.</p>
+
+<p>Of course, they often quarreled: &quot;For pity sake,
+Tom, do take your hands out of your pockets,&quot;
+Nell would say in her most vexing manner.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What are pockets for? I'd like to know, if not
+to put one's hands in,&quot; and Tom would whistle and
+march off.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tom, I don't believe you've combed your hair
+for a week!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, what's the use? it would be all roughed
+up again in less than an hour.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do wish, Tom, you would take your great
+boots off the window-sill!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O don't bother me; I'm reading;&quot; Tom would
+say: and the boots refused to stir an inch,—which
+of course was very bad of Tom. And so it would
+go on from morning till night.</p>
+
+<p>But Sister Bess had a different way of managing
+her big brother. She seemed to understand that
+coaxing was better than driving. Sometimes when
+he sat with both hands plunged into his pockets,
+Bess would nestle down close beside him, with a
+book or a picture, and almost before he knew it,
+one hand would be patting her curls, while the
+other turned the leaves or held the pictures.</p>
+
+<p>If she chanced to see his feet on the window-sill,
+she would say, &quot;Just try my ottoman, Tom dear,
+and see how comfortable it is;&quot; and though Tom
+occasionally growled in a good natured way about
+its being too low, the boots always came down to its
+level.</p>
+
+<p>Whenever his hair looked very rough, she would
+steal behind him and brush it for him herself, in a
+way that Tom liked so well that it was a temptation
+to let it go rough, just for the pleasure of
+having her do it.</p>
+
+<p>Yet for the next three days at least, he would
+take special pains to keep every hair in its place,
+simply to please little sister.</p>
+
+<p>As they grew older, Bess, in the same quiet,
+loving way, helped him to grow wise and manly.
+If she had an interesting book, she always wanted
+Tom to enjoy it with her. If she was going to call
+on any of her young friends, Tom was always invited
+to go with her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't understand,&quot; said Sister Nell, &quot;why you
+should always want that boy at your elbow; he's
+rough and awkward as a bear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Some bears are as gentle as kittens,&quot; declared
+Bess, slipping her arm through his with a loving
+hug, while &quot;the bear&quot; felt a warm glow at his
+heart as he walked away with Bess, and determined
+to be &quot;gentle as a kitten&quot; for her sake.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 55%;">
+
+<a name="girlthoughts"></a><h3>A LITTLE GIRL'S THOUGHTS</h3>
+
+<blockquote><center>Why does the wind lie down at night<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When all the sky is red,</span><br>
+Why does the moon begin to shine<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">When I am put to bed,</span><br>
+And all the little stars come out<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And twinkle overhead?</span><br>
+<br>
+I see the sun shine all the day,<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I gather daisies in my play,</span><br>
+But oh, I truly wish that I<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Could see the stars bloom in the sky!</span><br>
+I'd love to see the moon shine down<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And silver all the roofs in town,</span><br>
+But always off to sleep I go<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Just as the sun is getting low.</span><br>
+
+<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 15em;">ALICE VAN LEER CARRICK.</span>
+</center></blockquote>
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="102"></a><center>
+<img src="images/102.gif" width="809" height="529" alt="[Illustration: <i>Gracie's Disorderly Room</i>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<br>
+<a name="carelessgracie"></a><h2>CARELESS GRACIE'S LESSON</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Gracie and Norma Wilson were sisters, aged respectively, fourteen and
+twelve. But I think that two sisters were never more unlike than were
+Gracie and Norma. Norma, who was the younger, was as orderly a little
+lady as one could wish to see, while Gracie was just the reverse.</p>
+
+<p>Often their mother would say, in a despairing tone, &quot;Gracie, I do wish
+you would care for your room and frocks as Norma cares for hers. Why,
+you go out with buttons loose, or entirely off your dress, or your
+frocks unmended, not to speak of the untidiness of your room. If only
+you would take an interest in such things it would gratify me so much.
+Without an orderly mind no girl can aspire to become a useful member of
+society.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then Gracie would try to make excuses for her shortcomings, pleading
+this thing or that as the real cause of her negligence. But her poor
+mother, at her wits' end to devise some way by which Gracie might be
+aroused to a sense of her duty, would shake her head and say: &quot;Dearest
+child, there is no excuse for your slighting your work, either on your
+clothes or in your room. You have plenty of time for both and should
+force yourself to perform your share of the labor that falls to you to
+do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And while Mrs. Wilson was thus advising and entreating her eldest
+daughter to do her duty in such small household matters, Norma was busy
+tidying up her dainty room or sewing on her summer frocks, mending lace,
+ribbons, or putting on buttons and hooks and eyes. She was such a
+cheerfully busy little miss that Gracie's laziness was the more
+pronounced by contrast with her industry.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon, while Gracie was sitting idly in the hammock which swung
+in the broad, awning-covered porch, the phone bell rang and Norma
+answered it. The message which reached her ear made her smile very
+happily, and she answered, &quot;Oh, yes, indeed, we shall be delighted to
+go, and thank you for both of us ever and ever so much. What time shall
+we be ready—at four o'clock this afternoon? All right. And we shall
+prepare some luncheon? Yes, all right, we'll be most happy to do so.
+Good-bye.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then to the porch ran Norma, crying to Gracie, excitedly: &quot;Oh, sister,
+Mrs. Jackson has invited us—you and me—to go with her and Flora and
+Tommy for a long automobile ride. We are to stop on the beach—down at
+Blake Island—and have a picnic supper by moonlight. We'll return home
+about nine o'clock. Won't that be splendid? I know mamma will be so
+happy to have us go, so I accepted for both of us. Mamma won't be home
+for over an hour. And we are to start at four. It is now two o'clock.
+We'll have to be stirring if we are ready when Mrs. Jackson calls. And
+she must not be kept waiting.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="104"></a><center>
+<img src="images/104.gif" width="528" height="341" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>We are invited for a long automobile ride</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<p>&quot;Are we to carry luncheon?&quot; asked Gracie, lazily, not making any sign of
+getting out of the hammock.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes. Mrs. Jackson said we'd carry luncheon. She said she would take
+sandwiches, cookies, and jelly. We can supply something else. Suppose we
+have some boiled eggs. And I'll run to our favorite baker's and get a
+nice cake—one of those delicious white ones, you know. Won't it be
+splendid?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What shall you wear?&quot; asked Gracie, now bestirring herself a bit.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My pink lawn, I guess,&quot; replied Norma. &quot;But I shall have to hurry, for
+the eggs must be boiled at once, so as to give them time to get cold and
+solid in the ice box. Otherwise, they wouldn't be fit for the lunch
+basket.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And away ran busy Norma to the kitchen to put the eggs to boil.</p>
+
+<p>Within a short time Norma had the eggs nicely boiled and cooling in the
+ice box while she was getting her frock, shoes, hat, and other
+accessories to her afternoon attire, laid out all ready to wear.</p>
+
+<p>But Gracie was not quite so energetic. She had left the hammock and gone
+to her own room to look over her frocks to see which one might be fit to
+wear. A blue dimity was selected as being in the best wearing condition,
+but in looking it over she found a rent in the skirt and two buttons
+gone. &quot;Oh, just my luck,&quot; she declared petulantly. &quot;I never have a frock
+in shape to put right on. I do believe I'll ask mamma—if she has
+returned—to sew on the buttons and mend the rent. Let me see—the lace
+is all torn in places on my white lawn. The buttons are off my checked
+batiste. Yes, this blue dimity will be the best.&quot; So taking it in her
+arms, she went down stairs to the sitting room.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Wilson had just returned from making some calls and was listening
+to Norma's explanation of the good time in store for Gracie and herself
+that afternoon and evening. &quot;I knew you would not mind our going mamma,&quot;
+Norma was saying, &quot;so I just accepted at the moment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, indeed, I shall not object,&quot; said Mrs. Wilson. &quot;On the other hand,
+I am delighted that Mrs. Jackson has invited you to go with her and her
+lovely children. You will have a splendid time, I know. And how about
+your luncheon? Have you everything ready?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am just going to prepare some eggs this very minute,&quot; explained
+Norma. &quot;And,&quot; turning to Gracie, &quot;won't you go after some cake and some
+fruit, sister?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gracie frowned. &quot;I'll not have the time.&quot; she complained. &quot;And,&quot;
+appealing to her mother, &quot;mamma, will you be good enough to fix this
+frock for me to wear? I've got to wash and comb and do ever so many
+things.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Wilson shook her head. &quot;Gracie, you must have your lesson first or
+last. Now is a very good time for it. You must fix your own frock, my
+child. I have urged you, time and again, to keep your clothes neatly
+mended. If you let your things go—well, you must suffer the
+consequences. And, you must assist Norma in preparing the luncheon. It
+is not fair that she should have the bulk of the work of preparation to
+do. You must shoulder your share of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gracie, her face aflame with shame, went upstairs and began to fix her
+frock. But hardly had she begun when her mother's voice called to her:
+&quot;You would better go for the cake, daughter, before sitting down to
+mend. If by any chance you should not be ready to go when Mrs. Jackson
+calls for you, Norma must not be disappointed and shall have her basket
+of luncheon ready.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gracie began to beg off, but her mother was firm. &quot;Do as I say,
+daughter, and start at once to the baker's for the cake. Stop on the way
+back and buy a bag of nice fruit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gracie had to obey, but did it reluctantly. She feared she would not be
+ready to go when four o'clock arrived, for there was so much to be done
+in preparation. She hurried to the baker's and got the cake; stopped on
+the way back home and bought a bag of fruit. But she saw by the town
+clock that it wanted only forty-five minutes till time to start on their
+automobile outing.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment she felt very much out of sorts over the fact that she had
+been obliged to go after the cake and fruit, but the longer she thought
+of it the clearer became her own fault. Yes, she had been very
+indifferent about her work. And if she missed getting the trip—well, it
+would be her lesson.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as Gracie gave the cake and fruit into Norma's hands she ran up
+stairs to fix her frock. Norma was all ready, looking as sweet in her
+fresh lawn frock as could be. The basket was prepared for the luncheon,
+lined with a soft white napkin.</p>
+
+<p>Into the basket Norma put a dozen nicely prepared eggs, wrapped about
+with white paper. Then came the cake, also appetizingly fixed in dainty
+fashion; then the yellow oranges, luscious, pink peaches and golden
+yellow pears.</p>
+
+<p>At precisely ten minutes before four Norma was waiting on the porch. At
+exactly four Mrs. Jackson's automobile came dashing round the corner,
+Flora and Tommy in the rear seat and their mother in front beside the
+chauffeur. Room for Norma and Gracie was in the big back seat beside
+Flora and Tommy.</p>
+
+<a name="108"></a><center>
+<img src="images/108.gif" width="525" height="245" alt="[Illustration: <i>The Automobile Ride</i>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<p>&quot;All ready?&quot; called out Mrs. Jackson.</p>
+
+<p>Just as Norma was about to offer some excuse for her tardy sister, her
+mother came upon the porch, and, after chatting in a cordial manner for
+a few moments with Mrs. Jackson, she told Norma to take her basket and
+go to the automobile. &quot;It is Gracie's own fault that she is delayed this
+way, and she'll have a lesson to-day that she will profit by. I am
+quite sure she'll never miss another picnic through her own idleness.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then, while Norma was getting into the automobile, Mrs. Wilson spoke in
+low tones to Mrs. Jackson, explaining why Gracie would not be able to go
+on the outing that day. Although all expressed regrets that Gracie was
+to be left behind, they knew it was for the best that she be taught a
+lesson through disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>As the big auto rolled off down the road toward Blake Island, carrying
+the happy picnic party, Gracie, with tears in her eyes, stood looking
+from the window after them. And in her heart she knew that her
+disappointment was due to her own shortcomings. And she vowed to turn
+over a new leaf from that day.</p>
+
+<a name="109"></a><center>
+<img src="images/109.gif" width="298" height="270" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="110"></a><center>
+<img src="images/110.gif" width="827" height="482" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Are you going to whip Eunice</i>, sir?&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="vicarious_punishment"></a><h2>VICARIOUS PUNISHMENT</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>This is the term applied to such punishment as that which Christ bore
+when he suffered on the cross, the just for the unjust. You do not quite
+know what it means, do you? I think I hear you say, &quot;Oh, we do not want
+to know what such long words mean.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But stop a moment, I have a story to tell.</p>
+
+<p>It was a warm summer afternoon; a lazy breeze stole through the windows
+of a little district schoolhouse, lifting the curtains, and rustling the
+leaves of the copy-books that lay open on all the desks.</p>
+
+<p>Thirty or forty scholars of all ages were bending over their writing,
+quiet and busy; the voice of the master, as he passed about among the
+writers, was the only sound.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps you might not have thought it possible, but I assure you, that
+this hot little schoolroom has its heroes and heroines as certainly as
+many another place which might have seemed far more pretending.</p>
+
+<p>The bell rang for the writing to be laid by; and now came the last
+exercise of the day, the spelling, in which nearly all the school
+joined. At the head of the class was a delicate little girl, whose
+bright eyes and attentive air showed that she prized her place, and
+meant to keep it.</p>
+
+<p>Presently a word which had passed all the lower end of the class, came
+to Eunice. The word was <i>privilege</i>. &quot;P-r-i-v, priv—i, privi—l-e-g-e,
+lege, privilege,&quot; spelt Eunice. But the teacher, vexed with the mistakes
+of the other end of the class, misunderstood and passed it. The little
+girl looked amazed, the bright color came into her cheeks, and she
+listened eagerly to the next person, who spelt it again as she had done.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Right,&quot; said the teacher; &quot;take your place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I spelt it so,&quot; whispered Eunice partly to herself; the tears springing
+to her eyes as she passed down. But too timid to speak to the master,
+she remained in her place, determining soon to get up again. But her
+trials were not yet over.</p>
+
+<p>Many expedients had been tried in the school to keep out that arch-enemy
+of all teachers—whispering. At length the following plan was adopted:—</p>
+
+<p>The first whisperer was stood upon the floor in front of the teacher's
+desk. Here he acted as a monitor; as soon as he detected another
+whispering, he took his seat, and the next offender kept a sharp lookout
+to find some one to take <i>his</i> place; for, at the close of school, the
+scholar who had the whisperer's place was punished very severely.</p>
+
+<p>This plan appeared to operate very well; every one dreaded to be found
+last on the floor; but, though it secured an orderly school, many of the
+parents and scholars doubted its justice.</p>
+
+<p>The boy who was on the floor when Eunice lost her place, was an unruly,
+surly fellow, who had often before smarted for his faults; and as school
+drew near its close, he began to tremble. The instant Eunice's whispered
+complaint reached his ear, his face brightened up; he was safe now. And
+when the class was dismissed, he said, &quot;Eunice whispered, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Eunice rose, and in a trembling voice related what she had said; but the
+teacher saw no excuse in it, and she was called to take the place of the
+ungenerous boy who had told of her.</p>
+
+<p>The books were put away, and the waiting school looked on in sorrow as
+Eunice left her seat to take the dreaded punishment. She was one of the
+best scholars; bright, faithful, sweet-tempered, and a general favorite.</p>
+
+<p>Every one felt that it was unjust; and many angry glances were cast at
+the boy who was mean enough to get a little girl whipped. Overcome with
+shame and fear, she stood by the side of the desk crying bitterly, while
+the teacher was preparing to inflict the punishment.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment a tall boy stepped out of his seat, and going to the
+desk, said:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you going to whip Eunice, sir?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; I never break my rules!&quot; the teacher answered.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We will not see her whipped!&quot; said the boy in an excited voice; &quot;there
+is not a boy here but <i>that</i> one, who would see her whipped! Whip me,
+sir, and keep your rule, if you must, but don't touch this little girl!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The master paused; the school looked on tearfully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you mean to say you will take her punishment?&quot; asked the teacher.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do sir,&quot; was the bold reply.</p>
+
+<p>The sobbing little girl was sent to her seat, and without flinching, her
+friend stood and received the punishment that was to have fallen upon
+her. The school was dismissed, and the boys paid him in admiration and
+praise for all he had suffered.</p>
+
+<p>This was vicarious punishment,—one suffering from his own free will the
+punishment that was to have been borne by another.</p>
+
+<p>You see, do you not, that this is just what He did who bore our sins in
+His own body upon the tree—the Saviour of men? What He suffered we
+cannot know in this life; but God laid on Him the iniquity of us all;
+and this He willingly bore to save us from death. With His stripes we
+are healed. How great the gratitude each of us owes such a Friend.</p>
+
+&quot;Love so amazing, so divine,<br>
+Demands my soul, my life, my all.&quot;<br>
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+<a name="114"></a><center>
+<img src="images/114.gif" width="802" height="365" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>I'm awake, mother, come in</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="pattyssecret"></a><h2>PATTY'S SECRET</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Mrs. Lomax softly opened the nursery door and peeped in. &quot;I'm awake,
+mother,&quot; said a voice from the white cot; &quot;come in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The lady quickly poked the smoldering fire into a blaze and opened the
+blinds. It was a bitter cold day, and Jack Frost had decorated the
+windowpanes with silver pictures of forests and castles.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What wakened you so early, Patty, dear?&quot; asked her mother, coming over
+to sit on the edge of the bed. To her surprise the young face was
+wreathed in bright smiles.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I had such a strange, sweet dream,&quot; said Patty, her eyes shining. &quot;I
+think it must have been my dream that waked me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What was it, love?&quot; But Patty was silent. &quot;You don't want to tell me
+your dream, little daughter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think I'd rather not, mother, if you don't mind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I don't mind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, then, I won't tell it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Patty's mother had no dream of her own to tell, for she had hardly
+slept a single one of the many hours between dark and dawn. Many of them
+she had spent on her knees beside her bed, pouring out her heart in
+prayer for her darling who was, with the returning day, to undergo a
+painful and dangerous surgical operation.</p>
+
+<p>For days Patty herself had been in a sad state of nervousness and
+depression; it had been necessary, for certain reasons, that she should
+know what was before her, and though she bore up bravely for her years,
+it could not but be to her like entering a dark cloud.</p>
+
+<p>And yet there was the smile on her lips and the light in her eye, though
+the hour of trial had come!</p>
+
+<p>The weeks slipped away, each one leaving little Patty stronger than it
+found her, and nearer to the end of her prison-life behind window panes.
+For the great trial was safely passed, and the surgeon said one reason
+that the little girl came so safely through it, without fever or
+inflammation of any sort, was that she was so quiet and brave, and
+didn't excite or fret herself.</p>
+
+<p>When Patty heard these praises she only smiled and said, &quot;That's my
+secret.&quot; Though she did not ask, Patty's mother sometimes wondered what
+she meant and why she would not tell her secret.</p>
+
+<p>But one day Patty overheard a visitor speaking of another child who was
+to undergo an operation. This visitor was one of the managers of St.
+Luke's Hospital, and the child she spoke of was a charity patient, a
+poor, little deformed girl in the public ward. She was an orphan, and
+had no friends except the kind people at the orphanage where she had
+been put when only a few months old.</p>
+
+<p>Patty was very quiet until the visitor left; but when her mother turned
+to her sofa, she found her little daughter eager to tell her something.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, mother!&quot; she cried, &quot;I must see that little girl; I have something
+to tell her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll see her for you, dear,&quot; said Mrs. Lomax, &quot;and tell her anything
+you say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Patty, who had been so reasonable and obedient, did not seem able to
+listen to reason. She wept, and entreated to be carried to the hospital,
+until at last her mother consented to let her go in a closed carriage
+with her father to lift her in and out, and carry her every step up and
+down the halls and stairway. &quot;Only father,&quot; she said: &quot;I'd rather have
+only father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After all, the drive did not seem to hurt Patty at all; when she had
+taken off her wraps in the waiting room, and was being carried up to the
+ward, she whispered a little nervously: &quot;Can I see the little girl all
+by myself, father?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Lomax felt troubled at this almost stubborn secrecy. &quot;I think not,
+daughter,&quot; he said gravely; &quot;the nurse would hardly leave her patient in
+the hands of such a little girl as you. Why is it that you can't trust
+me to hear what you have to say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Patty hesitated a minute, and then said, &quot;I'm so afraid that you might
+laugh at it, or say it was just a fancy; and, oh, I couldn't stand
+anybody's laughing, because it helped me so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear little girl,&quot; he said to himself. Then he answered Patty in a very
+gentle voice: &quot;You need have no fear of that, darling. Now that I know
+how you feel about it, whatever you have to say will be very precious to
+me.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="117"></a><center>
+<img src="images/117.gif" width="436" height="318" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Will you ask for me? I don't know Him very well.</i>&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<p>Nothing more was said, but the little arms tightened about his neck, and
+he heard a little sigh of content.</p>
+
+<p>Laugh at her! No listener could have smiled at Patty's secret, except as
+one might smile in glad surprise if an angel spoke.</p>
+
+<p>In very simple speech, as one child uses to another, Patty told this
+little hospital patient of her long time of suffering and disease; how
+she had felt that she could not stand the surgeon's table, the knife,
+the stitches and all the horrors of an operation.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But the night before it was to happen,&quot; said Patty, &quot;after I had prayed
+with all my might to our Saviour to help me bear the pain I fell asleep,
+and dreamed that I saw Him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I wish you could know how He looked! Just as if He was all our
+mothers and fathers in one person. I did not hear Him speak, but I knew
+from His smile that He was going to be with me. And then I waked up and
+remembered what He said when He was going back to heaven, 'Lo, I am with
+you alway,' and I wasn't afraid any more after that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And did it hurt very much?&quot; eagerly asked the child in the cot.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know,&quot; said Patty, looking rather puzzled, &quot;maybe it did. The
+doctor couldn't give me as much of the go-to-sleep stuff as he will you;
+and part of the time I knew what he was doing, and felt the pain. But I
+did not mind it; I said to myself, 'Why, I can easily stand it; just as
+long as I must.' You see Jesus had answered my prayer, and He will
+answer yours, too. Don't forget, what He said about 'Lo, I am with
+you.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you ask for me?&quot; said the little stranger; &quot;I don't know Him very
+well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Patty promised.</p>
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="119"></a><center>
+<img src="images/119.gif" width="842" height="407" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>I don't believe sugar-sticks are good for little girls.</i>&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="mopsey"></a><h2>MOPSEY'S MISTAKE</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Uncle came in one cold evening, looking for all the world like a bear,
+Louie thought, in his big overcoat. He caught Louie up and gave her a
+real bear-hug, too.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello, Mopsey! where's Popsey?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Popsey was Louie's baby sister, two years old, and her name wasn't
+Popsey any more than Louie's name was Mopsey, but Uncle Jack was all the
+time calling folks funny names, Louie thought.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Her's gone to bed,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>Then Uncle Jack put his hand in his pocket and made a great rustling
+with paper for a minute before he pulled out two red-and-white
+sugar-sticks and gave them to Louie. &quot;It's too bad that Popsey's
+asleep,&quot; said he. But I'm afraid Louie was rather glad of it.</p>
+
+<a name="120"></a><img src="images/120.gif" width="309" height="417"
+align="right" alt="&quot;Dis for 'ou.&quot;" title="">
+
+
+<p>&quot;Aren't you going to save one stick for Grace?&quot; asked mama. Popsey's
+real name was Grace.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said Louie, speaking low. &quot;I don't believe sugar-sticks are good
+for little girls. 'Sides, I want it myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Just as she swallowed the last bit there came a little call from her
+bedroom: &quot;Mama?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hello!&quot; said Uncle Jack, &quot;Popsey's awake!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And in a minute, out she came in mama's arms, rosy, and smiling, and
+dimpled.</p>
+
+<p>Then there was another great rustling in Uncle Jack's pocket, and pretty
+soon—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is for Popsey!&quot; said Uncle Jack.</p>
+
+<p>She took her two sugar-sticks in her dimpled hands and looked at them a
+second—dear little Popsey!—and then she held out the larger one to
+Louie.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dis for 'ou,&quot; she cooed, &quot;and dis for me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Poor Louie! She hung her head and blushed. Somehow she didn't want to
+look at Uncle Jack or mama. Can you guess why?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dis for 'ou!&quot; repeated Popsey, cheerfully, pushing the long sugar-stick
+into her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Take it, Louie,&quot; said mama.</p>
+
+<p>And Louie took it. But a little afterward mama overheard her tell
+Popsey:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I won't never be such a greedy thing any more, Popsey, dear. And I's
+always going to divide with you, all the time after this, long's I
+live!&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="121"></a><center>
+<img src="images/121.gif" width="803" height="392" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Suddenly, with a great effort, she began to sing.</i>&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<a name="girlsong"></a><h2>A GIRL'S SONG</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>At the time of the terrible accident a year or two ago at the coal mines
+near Scranton, Penn., several men were buried for three days, and all
+efforts to rescue them proved unsuccessful.</p>
+
+<p>The majority of the miners were Germans. They were in a state of intense
+excitement. Sympathy for the wives and children of the buried men, and
+despair at their own fruitless efforts, had rendered them almost
+frantic.</p>
+
+<p>A great mob of ignorant men and women assembled at the mouth of the mine
+on the evening of the third day, in a condition of high nervous tension
+which fitted them for any mad act. A sullen murmur arose that it was
+folly to dig farther—that the men were dead. And this was followed by
+cries of rage at the rich mine owners.</p>
+
+<p>A hasty word or gesture might have produced an outbreak of fury.
+Standing near me was a little German girl, perhaps eleven years old. Her
+pale face and frightened glances from side to side showed that she fully
+understood the danger of the moment.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly, with a great effort, she began to sing in a hoarse whisper
+which could not be heard. Then she gained courage, and her sweet,
+childish voice rang out in Luther's grand old hymn, familiar to every
+German from his cradle, &quot;A mighty fortress is out God.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was silence like death. Then one voice joined the girl's, and
+presently another and another, until from the whole great multitude rose
+the solemn cry:—</p>
+
+With force of arms we nothing can,<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Full soon are we o'erridden.</span><br>
+But for us fights the godly Man,<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whom God Himself hath bidden.</span><br>
+Ask ye His name?<br>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Christ Jesus is His name.</span><br>
+<br>
+<p>A great quiet seemed to fall upon their hearts. They resumed their work
+with fresh zeal, and before morning, the joyful cry came up from the pit
+that the men were found—alive. Never was a word more in season than
+that child's hymn.</p>
+
+<a name="122"></a><center>
+<img src="images/122.gif" width="319" height="317" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="123"></a><center>
+<img src="images/123.gif" width="804" height="406" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Here, that's mine.</i>&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="carrie"></a><h2>CARRIE'S MARKS</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;For I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus,'&quot; repeated Miss
+Evans, slowly. &quot;My dear girls,&quot; she said, &quot;have you these marks? It used
+to be the custom in India to brand the master's name upon the arms of
+his servants, so that all who met them would know to whom they belonged.
+Do your lives show the name of the Lord Jesus to all whom you meet?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Belle!&quot; cried Jennie Day, on the way home. &quot;Did you see Sarah Brooks
+in that new silk dress? Didn't she feel grand?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;New!&quot; returned Belle White, &quot;I almost know it was made out of one of
+her mother's old ones.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How spiteful they are,&quot; thought Carrie Maynard; &quot;I am glad I know
+better than to talk that way. Girls,&quot; she said aloud, &quot;I think you are
+forgetting very quickly what Miss Evans read about the marks. The Bible
+says, 'Charity envieth not.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; answered Belle angrily, &quot;and it says, too, 'Vaunteth not itself,
+is not puffed up.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wonder if I am conceited, and quote only the verses that don't mean
+me,&quot; said Carrie to herself. &quot;I am sure humility must be one of the
+marks;&quot; and she went up stairs and asked God to show her how bad she
+was, little dreaming how soon the prayer would be answered.</p>
+
+<p>After dinner she washed and wiped the dishes and put them carefully
+away. &quot;There,&quot; thought she, &quot;if 'cleanliness is next to godliness,' I am
+sure of one mark, for mother says I am an uncommonly neat little girl.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Meantime, Charlie, finding his own library book rather dull, had
+commenced reading Carrie's. &quot;Here! that's mine,&quot; she cried, trying to
+snatch it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait till I finish this page,&quot; he said, holding it up out of her reach.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, I will have it now,&quot; she insisted; and by frantic efforts finally
+seized it, but not till she had left a scratch on his hand, and received
+several pinches on her arm.</p>
+
+<p>She opened the book, and the first thing she saw was the verse, &quot;Ye have
+need of patience.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, dear,&quot; she sighed, &quot;there is another mark. Now, I suppose, I must
+carry this book back to Charlie, and ask his forgiveness.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sorry I behaved so bad, and you may take the book all the
+afternoon,&quot; she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>Charlie stopped whistling. &quot;Upon my word, I believe you are a Christian,
+Carrie,&quot; he said, and then he fell to whistling again. But Carrie went
+softly up stairs.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="125"></a><center>
+<img src="images/125.gif" width="810" height="401" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;Never mind her! Her father drinks.&quot;</i>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<a name="susie"></a><h2>SUSIE'S PRAYER</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>It was a half holiday. The children were gathered on the green, and a
+right merry time they were having.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come, girls and boys,&quot; called out Ned Graham, &quot;let's play hunt the
+squirrel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>They were all eager for the game, and a large circle was formed with Ned
+Graham for leader because he was the largest.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come, Susie,&quot; said one of the boys, to a little girl who stood on one
+side, and seemed to shrink from joining them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, never mind <i>her!</i>&quot; said Ned, with a little toss of his head, &quot;she's
+nobody, anyhow. Her father drinks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A quick flush crept over the child's pale face as she heard the cruel,
+thoughtless words.</p>
+
+<p>She was very sensitive, and the arrow had touched her heart in its
+tenderest place.</p>
+
+<p>Her father <i>was</i> a drunkard, she knew, but to be taunted with it before
+so many was more than she could bear; and with great sobs heaving her
+bosom, and hot tears filling her eyes, she turned and ran away from the
+play-ground.</p>
+
+<p>Her mother was sitting by the window when she reached home, and the
+tearful face of the little girl told that something had happened to
+disturb her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is the matter, Susie?&quot; she asked, kindly.</p>
+
+<a name="126"></a><img src="images/126.gif" width="261" height="481" align="left" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>He said that father drinks.</i>&quot;]" title="">
+
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, mother,&quot; said Susie, with the tears dropping down her cheeks, as
+she hid her face in her mother's lap, &quot;Ned Graham said such a cruel
+thing about me,&quot; and here the sobs choked her voice so that she could
+hardly speak; &quot;He said that I wasn't anybody, and that father drinks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My poor little girl,&quot; Mrs. Ellet said, very sadly. There were tears in
+her eyes, too. Such taunts as this were nothing new in that family.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, mother,&quot; Susie said, as she lifted her face, wet with tears, from
+her mother's lap, &quot;I can't bear to have them say so, and act just as if
+<i>I</i> had done something wicked. I wish father wouldn't drink! Do you
+suppose he'll ever leave it off?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope so,&quot; Mrs. Ellet answered, as she kissed Susie's face where the
+tears clung like drops of dew on a rose. &quot;I pray that he may break off
+the habit, and I can do nothing but pray, and leave the rest to God.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That night Mr. Ellet came home to supper, as usual. He was a
+hard-working man, and a good neighbor. So everybody said, but he had the
+habit of intemperance so firmly fixed upon him that everybody thought he
+would end his days in the drunkard's grave. Susie kissed him when he
+came through the gate, as she always did, but there was something in her
+face that went to his heart. A look so sad, and full of touching sorrow
+for one so young as she!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What ails my little girl?&quot; he asked as he patted her curly head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't tell you, father,&quot; she answered, slowly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because it would make you feel bad,&quot; Susie replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess not,&quot; he said, as they walked up to the door together. &quot;What is
+it, Susie?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, father,&quot; and Susie burst into tears again as the memory of Ned
+Graham's words came up freshly in her mind, &quot;I wish you wouldn't drink
+any more for the boys and girls don't like to play with me, 'cause you
+do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Ellet made no reply. But something stirred in his heart that made
+him ashamed of himself; ashamed that he was the cause of so much sorrow.</p>
+
+<a name="128"></a><img src="images/128.gif" width="288" height="494"
+align="right" alt="[Illustration: <i>Susie's Prayer</i>]" title="">
+
+<p>After supper he took his hat, and Mrs. Ellet knew only too well where
+he was going.</p>
+
+<p>At first he had resolved to stay at home that evening, but the force of
+habit was so strong that he could not resist; so he yielded, promising
+himself that he would not drink more than once or twice.</p>
+
+<p>Susie had left the table before he finished his supper, and as he passed
+the great clump of lilacs by the path, on his way to the gate, he heard
+a voice and stopped to listen to what she was saying.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, good Jesus, please don't let father drink any more. Make him just
+as he used to be when I was a baby, and then the boys and girls can't
+call me a drunkard's child, or say such bad things about me. Please,
+dear Jesus, for mother's sake and mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Susie's father listened to her simple prayer, with a great lump swelling
+in his throat. When her prayer was ended, he went up to her, knelt down
+by her side, and put his arm around her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God in heaven,&quot; he said very solemnly, &quot;I promise to-night, never to
+touch another drop of liquor as long as I live. Give me strength to keep
+my pledge, and help me to be a better man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, father,&quot; Susie cried, her arms about his neck, and her head upon
+his breast, &quot;I'm <i>so</i> glad! I shan't care about anything they say to me
+now, for I know you won't be a drunkard any more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God helping me, I will be a <i>man!</i>&quot; he answered, as taking Susie by the
+hand he went back into the house where his wife was sitting with the old
+patient look of sorrow on her face,—the look that so often rested
+there.</p>
+
+<p>I cannot tell you of the joy and thanksgiving that went up from that
+hearthstone that night. I wish I could, but it was too deep a joy which
+filled the hearts of Susie and her mother to be described.</p>
+
+<p>Was not Susie's prayer answered?</p>
+
+<center>
+<img src="images/129.gif" width="381" height="94" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+<br>
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="130"></a><center>
+<img src="images/130.gif" width="801" height="339" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<a name="orange"></a><h2>THE STOLEN ORANGE</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;Mamma will never know,&quot; thought Flora Marshall to herself, as she took
+a large orange from the piled-up dish on the table, and, putting it in
+her pocket, went hastily up stairs.</p>
+
+<p>She was expecting two or three little friends to spend the day with her,
+and had been busily arranging the doll her kind mother had given her;
+but while lingering about, waiting for them to come, she was tempted to
+take one of the oranges which had been placed on the table ready for
+dinner. She hurried from the room, but had not reached the top of the
+stairs before her brother's voice stopped her, calling, &quot;Flora, Flora,
+make haste, I see some of your visitors coming in at the gate;&quot; and
+directly after there was a knock at the door, and she could hear the
+voices of Kate and Effie Somers.</p>
+
+<p>Flora ran quickly down stairs, but her face was flushed, and she felt
+miserable and ashamed as she met her young friends, and took them to the
+parlor to speak to her mamma.</p>
+
+<a name="131"></a><center>
+<img src="images/131.gif" width="547" height="788" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;Blindman's Buff&quot;</i>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>Flora tried to laugh and talk as merrily as any of them, but she could
+not forget how wrong she had been; and the dish of oranges setting right
+before her on the table kept her fault ever in her mind. Besides this,
+not having been able to eat the orange she had taken, she was in
+constant fear lest she might draw it from her pocket with her
+handkerchief, and thus be covered with shame in the sight of her young
+friends.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Flora! she had sinned against God, and against her kind mother, and
+had spoiled all her afternoon's pleasure for the sake of an orange. At
+dinner time she could not raise her head to meet her mother's glance,
+who saw that something was wrong with her, and who said very kindly,
+&quot;Flora, dear, you are scarcely eating anything—are you not well?&quot; This
+made Flora ready to cry with shame and repentance. Her conscience was
+too tender to allow her to be happy while her fault remained
+unconfessed.</p>
+
+<p>All the afternoon they had merry games, in which everybody joined. They
+played &quot;Lady's Toilet,&quot; &quot;Hunt the Slipper,&quot; and many more such games,
+winding up with &quot;Blindman's Buff.&quot; After this the little girls went
+home, and Flora was left alone with her papa and mama while the younger
+children were getting ready for bed.</p>
+
+<p>Several times she had fancied she had dropped the orange in some of the
+rough movements of the games, and had gone more than once quietly into a
+corner of the room to feel in her pocket if it was still there. Yes, it
+was quite safe enough. &quot;How could I be so wicked and so greedy?&quot; thought
+Flora; &quot;mama always gives me as much fruit as is best for me, and yet I
+have made myself a thief, and after all have not eaten the orange, or
+been able to put it back, and it has spoiled all my pleasure.&quot; She sat
+still, miserable and unhappy for a little longer, and then her
+resolution was made—she would tell her mama before she lay down to
+sleep that night. With a slow step and a beating heart she went toward
+the window where her mother was sitting. &quot;Well, Flora,&quot; said Mrs.
+Marshall kindly, &quot;you seem tired and out of spirits to-night; have you
+come to wish me good-night?&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="133"></a><img src="images/133.gif" width="276" height="441" align="left" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;Here it is, Mama.&quot;</i>]" title="">
+
+
+<p>&quot;O mama!&quot; sobbed Flora, &quot;I have come to tell you how wicked I have been,
+and how very sorry and miserable I am;&quot; and hiding her face in the folds
+of her mama's dress, she told the story.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Here it is, mama,&quot; she said, drawing the orange from her pocket, &quot;and
+I think I shall never see an orange again without remembering this bad
+afternoon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Very gravely, but gently, her mother spoke to her about her sin, and the
+consequences it had brought upon her. &quot;I shall not punish you, Flora,&quot;
+she said; &quot;your own conscience has been a sufficient punishment. I have
+watched your pale, troubled face all the afternoon, and should have
+wondered what was wrong with you had I not seen you take the orange as I
+passed the door, which was slightly open. Knowing what you had done, I
+was not surprised that you seemed unhappy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But can you forgive me mama, and believe that I will never do such a
+thing again?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will forgive you, Flora, because you have told me of your fault; but
+remember there is One above whose forgiveness you must seek as well as
+mine, whose eye is always upon you, and who is grieved when you do
+wrong. Go now, and before you sleep to-night ask God to pardon you, and
+cleanse you from this and every other sin for the sake of his Son, our
+Saviour Jesus Christ.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With a sorrowful, repentant heart Flora went to her room, and kneeling
+there asked God to forgive all her sins, and to help her for the future
+to resist temptation; but it was a long time before she forgot the
+stolen orange and how miserable she had been that afternoon.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="135"></a><center>
+<img src="images/135.gif" width="804" height="380" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>He used to chase them and threaten to cut off their ears.</i>&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<a name="janet"></a><h2>WEE JANET'S PROBLEM</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Everything small and helpless was once afraid of a certain ragged,
+barefooted little boy who had recently come to live in the country. His
+home was the old Perkins' house, in which no one had lived for years; at
+least no one but wild-wood folks, like birds and squirrels. They didn't
+stay long after the arrival of Pete and his family, because Pete threw
+stones even at the bluebirds.</p>
+
+<p>Wee Janet was afraid of Pete. All the Primer Class children who attended
+the country school were afraid of the boy. He used to chase them and
+threaten to cut off their ears; once he whispered across the aisle to
+Bessie Saunders that he would like to eat little girls, and she believed
+it.</p>
+
+<p>The teacher said that Pete was a bad boy. There was never a school day
+when the child wasn't justly punished for something. It did seem as if
+no one ever said a kind word about Pete. Wee Janet thought that even his
+mother was discouraged, because he cruelly teased his own brothers and
+sisters until they were in tears half the time.</p>
+
+<p>No one in the country knew where Pete and his family lived before they
+came to the Perkins' farm. In reply to that question Pete said &quot;None of
+yer business!&quot; to the Sabbath school superintendent.</p>
+
+<p>Wee Janet was much troubled about Pete. &quot;He'll be a dreadfully bad man,&quot;
+she said to her mother, &quot;unless someone can make him into a good little
+boy. The teacher says she can't do it—she's tried. She says it's a
+problem.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll tell you what to do, little daughter,&quot; said Wee Janet's mother.
+&quot;Try to think Pete is the lovely boy he might have been if he had been
+born in the Perkins' house, and dear old Grandma Perkins was his own
+grandmother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But—but my thinker isn't strong enough,&quot; objected Wee Janet. &quot;Besides,
+that wouldn't make Pete into a different kind of a boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; agreed Wee Janet's mother; &quot;but if you could imagine Pete is
+lovely, you must treat him in a different way, and it might make him
+better.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The following day Wee Janet tried her best to do as her mother
+suggested. The day after she begged all the little girls in the Primer
+Class to treat Pete as if he were a good boy. At last Wee Janet and the
+Primer Class gave it up.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He just gets worse and worse,&quot; Wee Janet told her mother. &quot;He says he
+'don't care for nuthin' nor nobody,'—that's just what he said.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; replied Janet's mother, &quot;there is one thing you can do, and that
+is, always be polite and kind to him. 'Overcome evil with good.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Days passed. Every night when she said her prayers Wee Janet remembered
+Pete. Each day she tried to be kind to him in every way known to a
+little girl eight years old and extremely small for her age. He threw
+the flowers she gave him into the dusty road and danced on them. He
+accepted her gifts only to destroy them, every one, and then called her
+&quot;Cry-baby.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At last the Sabbath-school superintendent learned that Pete was born and
+had lived all his life in a tenement house in a great city. His father
+died in State's Prison. After that it seemed to Wee Janet that there was
+almost no hope for Pete.</p>
+
+<p>One Thursday morning the little girl's mother asked her to carry a pail
+of buttermilk to Aunt Nancy. &quot;You needn't be afraid to go by the
+Perkins' house this morning,&quot; she said, &quot;because your father was told
+that Pete went fishing to-day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Wee Janet was half way to Aunt Nancy's when not far up the road she
+beheld Mr. Mason's red cow eating grass outside instead of inside the
+fence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, the hooking cow!&quot; exclaimed the child, almost dropping her pail of
+buttermilk.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment the red cow lifted her head. It is possible she thought
+that Janet was a big clover blossom. Anyway, on came the cow lowing
+gently. Mr. Mason always said the cow was harmless.</p>
+
+<p>Janet, too frightened to stir, screamed in terror. That scream brought a
+barefooted boy running over the fields. That boy was Pete.</p>
+
+<a name="138"></a><center> <img src="images/138.gif" width="529"
+height="262" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Janet screamed in
+terror.</i>&quot;]" title=""> </center>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the matter, Weejan?&quot; he called.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment Pete looked beautiful to Wee Janet. It seemed to her
+that she never saw a finer looking boy than Pete, the ragged, when he
+picked up a stick and made the cow turn around and go the other way.</p>
+
+<a name="139"></a><img src="images/139.gif" width="299" height="505"
+align="left" alt="[Illustration: <i>The Robin's Nest</i>]" title="">
+
+<p>&quot;Come on, Weejan,&quot; called Pete. &quot;I won't let her hurt yez. I'll drive
+her back in her pasture and lock the gate. Yez see if I don't!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>After the cow was in her pasture Pete insisted upon going to Aunt
+Nancy's with Wee Janet. &quot;Yer might see a rattler,&quot; he explained, as if
+such a thing were probable.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now I'll take yer home,&quot; the boy observed when Wee Janet found him
+waiting at the gate. &quot;Yer too little to be out alone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Janet's mother thanked Pete for taking care of her small daughter. Then
+she gave him a piece of gingerbread. After that she showed him Wee
+Janet's robin's nest and told him all about how the mother robin worked
+to build the nest, and how long she sat upon the eggs before the little
+nestlings were hatched. Father Robin scolded the boy so vigorously Wee
+Janet was afraid Pete's feelings might be hurt. &quot;You see,&quot; she
+explained, &quot;he knows that you're a stranger. Now, Father Robin, don't
+make such a fuss. If Pete took care of me, he'd take care of your
+babies, too. Wouldn't you, Pete.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sure!&quot; Pete replied with a broad grin.</p>
+
+<p>From that hour there was a change in Pete. He told Wee Janet's mother
+that he never knew anything about birds before; whereupon he was invited
+to come every day to visit all of Wee Janet's birds' nests and to read
+her bird books.</p>
+
+
+<p>Before the end of the year even the little girls in the Primer Class
+forgot, or appeared to forget, that Pete was ever a bad boy. He is in
+high school now, in town, and his mother never looks discouraged when
+she speaks of her eldest son, Peter.</p>
+
+<p>As for Wee Janet, to this day she sometimes wonders how it all came
+about.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="140"></a><center>
+<img src="images/140.gif" width="803" height="399" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<a name="bertha"></a><h2>BERTHA'S GRANDMOTHER</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Bertha Gilbert was fourteen years of age, and had just come home from
+boarding school, where she had finished her first year—a very nice,
+pleasant school, of about thirty girls, besides the day-scholars; and
+Mrs. Howard made it, as she promised, a kind of social family, giving
+each one her personal attention and care. Bertha had improved a great
+deal in her studies and deportment, and was a very lady-like, agreeable
+girl.</p>
+
+<p>But as no little boys and girls are perfect, or large ones either, for
+that matter, I am going to tell you what a mistake Bertha made, and how
+she was cured of a feeling that might have settled into a very
+disagreeable habit. Indeed, I have met some grown people who have fallen
+into the way of treating elderly members of the family with a disregard
+that bordered on contempt.</p>
+
+<a name="141"></a><center>
+<img src="images/141.gif" width="548" height="891" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>There was one handsome house which Bertha had often
+admired.</i>&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>Bertha was delighted to be at home once more, to be clasped to her dear
+mother's heart, to find her father quite improved in health, and her two
+little brothers as merry as ever; and to meet her dear old
+grandmother, an old lady who was nearly eighty years of age, yet bright
+and active, with a fair, sweet face, and silvery hair, which was nearly
+all covered with a fine muslin cap, the border being crimped in the
+daintiest fashion you ever saw.</p>
+
+<p>I used to think she looked just like a picture, of a summer afternoon,
+when she put on a fresh cap and kerchief,—as she used to call the white
+half square of lawn that she wore round her shoulders,—and her clean,
+checked apron. In spite of her years, she did a great deal of work
+around the house, and I do not believe George and Willie would have
+known how to live without her.</p>
+
+<p>The Gilberts were in very moderate circumstances, for Mr. Gilbert had
+been compelled to leave his business and retire to the country on
+account of ill health. This little village of Hillside was a very pretty
+place. A river ran on one side, and on the opposite side ran a railroad
+that led directly to New York. Consequently a great many rich and
+fashionable people lived here, as well as a poorer class.</p>
+
+<p>There was one handsome house which Bertha had often admired. It was the
+home of very wealthy people—Mr. and Mrs. Bell. The lawn and gardens
+were very beautiful, and they had an elegant greenhouse and a grapery,
+indeed, everything that heart could wish. Then Mrs. Bell had traveled
+nearly all over Europe, and had visited China.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha had met two of Mrs. Bell's nieces at school; one was a young
+lady, and the other a little girl not quite as old as herself; but
+somehow she and Ada Wilson became great friends. The two girls were to
+visit Mrs. Bell during their vacation, and Ada had promised to spend a
+day with Bertha—indeed, to come to see her often.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For Aunt Bell is such a great lady,&quot; Ada had said, &quot;and there are no
+children; so I'm afraid I shall be lonesome; and you must return my
+calls.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The idea of going to the grand house quite elated Bertha. She told it
+over to her mother with a great deal of pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>But nothing ever happens just as one wants it. The Gilberts' parlor had
+been repapered, and there was some delay in getting down the new carpet.
+They would surely be in order by the time the Wilsons arrived, Bertha
+thought to herself one afternoon, as she brought her tiny workbasket to
+the sitting room and took out a piece of braiding to finish.</p>
+
+<p>There was a long piazza across the front of the house. In the center was
+the hall door—the parlor being on one side, the sitting room on the
+other. As Bertha's eyes roved idly out of the window, she saw Mrs.
+Bell's beautiful grays coming down the road, and a carriage full of
+ladies. Why, they were actually stopping; the man handed out two ladies
+and a little girl, and opened the gate for them.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed, the Wilsons had reached Hillside a week earlier than they had
+expected. When Ada spoke of her friend, Mrs. Bell proposed that they
+should call as early as possible, so that Ada and Bertha might see the
+more of each other.</p>
+
+<a name="144"></a><center>
+<img src="images/144.gif" width="507" height="287" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>O mother! here they are,</i>&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>&quot;O, mother!&quot; Bertha exclaimed, in astonishment, &quot;here they are—Ada and
+Miss Frances, and their aunt.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go and receive them, my dear,&quot; said her mother rising.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Bell was very gracious, and with a certain unassuming sweetness
+that immediately set at ease every one with whom she met. She and Mrs.
+Gilbert exchanged very pleasant greetings. Then they were all led into
+the sitting room, and Bertha flushed a little. She seemed to see all its
+shabbiness at a glance—the worn spot of carpet by her father's desk,
+and another in front of the sofa, the old-fashioned furniture, and
+grandmother sitting there in her corner, knitting a blue yarn stocking.</p>
+
+<p>Grandma Gilbert rose and courtesied to the ladies. Her dress had no
+fashionable trail, but showed her low prunella shoes and white,
+home-knit stockings. She was a prim little body, looking as neat as a
+pin, but very old-fashioned.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Bell presently crossed over to her. &quot;It looks quite like old times
+to see any one knitting,&quot; she said, in her low, pleasant voice. &quot;I think
+there ought to be a grandmother in every house; they always give a place
+such a comfortable, homelike look. I remember how my great-grandmother
+used to knit when I was a little girl.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It isn't of much account,&quot; returned grandmother. &quot;Stockings are so
+cheap nowadays; but I do think hum-knit wears better for boys. Willie
+and George do scour out stockings 'mazin' fast. And then it serves to
+keep an old woman like me busy.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="145"></a><img src="images/145.gif" width="253" height="291" align="left" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;It looks quite like old times to see anyone
+knitting.&quot;</i>]" title="">
+
+
+<p>Ada Wilson glanced up with a peculiar look, and Bertha flushed. The
+young ladies at Mrs. Howard's were taught to pronounce their words
+correctly, and were not allowed to use any careless phrases.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Bell continued the conversation, however, and grandmother did her
+best to be entertaining. But she was old-fashioned, and confused her
+grammar in various ways. Ada, in the meantime, showed a strong
+disposition to laugh, and finally begged Bertha to take her out to look
+at the flowers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O dear!&quot; she exclaimed, as they went around the walk at the side of the
+house; &quot;O dear! Isn't your grandmother a funny old woman! I couldn't
+keep my face sober.&quot; Ada laughed as if she considered it very amusing.</p>
+
+<p>Bertha ought to have understood that this was very ill-bred, and
+espoused her grandmother's cause at once; but instead of that she was
+ashamed of her, and felt like crying. If she could only have taken her
+guests into the parlor, where they would not have seen grandma!</p>
+
+<a name="146"></a>
+<img src="images/146.gif" width="270" height="402" align="right" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Isn't your grandmother a funny old woman?</i>&quot;]" title="">
+
+<p>&quot;Such a funny old woman, with that immense check apron! Bertha, she
+looks like some of the little old lady pincushions that I've seen, and
+she makes such a queer mouth when she talks. She hasn't a tooth in her
+head, has she? and I guess they didn't teach grammar when she went to
+school. Why do you let her wear that white cap? all the old ladies that
+I know wear black lace caps, with ribbons. I thought I should laugh
+outright when she made that little dip of curtsy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But she is real old,&quot; said Bertha, deprecatingly, &quot;and she has lived in
+the country most of her life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should think she had come from the backwoods! I wonder she doesn't
+make you wear 'hum-knit' stockings; or don't you 'scour yours out?' O
+dear!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is not right to laugh at old persons,&quot; Bertha said, summoning all
+her courage; yet she was mortified and humiliated in the extreme.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh! I don't mean anything, you know—only it's so funny! You ought to
+see <i>my</i> grandmother. She is nearly eighty, I believe, but she only owns
+to seventy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha was too deeply hurt to make any comment. Then Ada kissed her and
+coaxed her into good humor, telling her of the enjoyments Aunt Bell had
+in preparation.</p>
+
+<p>When they returned to the room, Mrs. Bell was preparing to leave, and
+the carriage stood at the gate.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We have decided on Thursday, Ada,&quot; Mrs. Bell said to her niece; &quot;and,
+Miss Bertha, I have coaxed your grandmother to pay <i>me</i> a visit. I think
+a pleasant old lady, in possession of all her faculties, is rare good
+company—quite a treat for me. Now, Mrs. Gilbert, I shall send the
+carriage, and you will be sure not to disappoint me, if you are well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are very kind, indeed;&quot; and grandmother gave another little &quot;dip
+of a curtsy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Bertha looked amazed.</p>
+
+<p>She was very quiet after her visitors had gone. Her mother appeared to
+admire Miss Frances Wilson, and grandma said of Mrs. Bell: &quot;She's a
+tender, true-hearted Christian lady.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="148"></a><img src="images/148.gif" width="278" height="527"
+align="left" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>I am disappointed.</i>&quot;]"
+title="">
+
+<p>&quot;Mother,&quot; said Bertha, the next day, when they were alone; &quot;couldn't you
+fix grandma up a little to go to Mrs. Bell's?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, she has a nice brown silk dress to wear, and a clean cap and
+kerchief.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But she looks so—so—old-fashioned, mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear, she is an old-fashioned lady. I think she looks a great deal
+prettier than to be dressed like people thirty or forty years younger
+than she is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But—&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Bertha! you are not ashamed of dear old grandmother?&quot; and Mrs.
+Gilbert looked at her daughter in amazement. Bertha's cheeks flushed,
+and tears came to her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My little daughter, I am deeply pained!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Some way the story came out, and Bertha sobbed away her mortified
+feeling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear Bertha!&quot; her mother said, &quot;I am disappointed to see you show so
+little true courage and warmth of heart. Ada Wilson has certainly shown
+herself very ill-bred and heartless in thus criticising so old a person
+to one of her own relatives. I am not sure but it would be better to
+decline the invitation altogether.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O mother! I do not think Ada meant any real harm. She laughs at the
+girls, and mimics everybody; but she's real good and generous, for all
+that. And grandma does make mistakes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But even if she does, Bertha, when you are tempted to despise your dear
+old grandmother, I want you to think of her life. When she was a little
+girl, twelve years old, she went to work in a mill, to help her mother
+take care of her younger brothers and sisters, and then afterward she
+took the whole charge of the family upon herself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fifty-three years ago she married a plain farmer, and went West, into
+what was a wilderness at that time. In her turn, she was left a widow,
+with a large family, and I shall always honor her for the wisdom she
+displayed. It would be hard to find four better men than your uncles and
+papa.</p>
+
+<a name="149"></a><center>
+<img src="images/149.gif" width="505" height="302" alt="[Illustration: <i>Grandma's Early Home in the Wilderness.</i>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<p>&quot;Aunt Bessy was poor and had a great deal of trouble, but grandma staid
+with her to the very last, and now she has come to me. I really don't
+know what I should do without her, and her life has been most
+praiseworthy in every respect. She would give her life for any of us.
+Suppose she were cross and fretful, and thought, as some old ladies do,
+that we ought to work every moment, and never take a bit of pleasant
+recreation.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Instead of this, she is a genial, tender-hearted woman, serving God and
+doing good every day of her life, and I am sure Mrs. Bell honors her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Suppose, Bertha, that I began to fret at her old-fashioned ways, the
+caps she loves to wear, and the manner in which she expresses herself?
+It would make her nervous and timid, and if she thought we were growing
+ashamed of her, I really believe her heart would break. Would you be
+willing to give her such a wound?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, no,&quot; returned Bertha, sobbing. &quot;Dear grandmother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think the commandment to honor one's father and mother takes in
+one's grandparents equally. And, most of all, I want to see my little
+daughter brave enough to respect true worth, even if it is not clad in
+fashionable garments, and fresh from school.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="151"></a><center>
+<img src="images/151.gif" width="473" height="210" alt="[Illustration: <i>The Carriage Came for Grandma.</i>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>Bertha began to think she had been very weak and foolish, and after a
+long talk with her mother, she resolved that Ada should never speak so
+disrespectfully in her presence again.</p>
+
+<p>And so, when Mrs. Bell's carriage came, they started on their visit,
+grandma looking as fresh and sweet as a rose. In spite of the fact that
+she was wrinkled, her skin was white and clear, and her soft brown eyes
+were overflowing with love.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Bell welcomed them warmly; but she took possession of grandma,
+while the young folks amused themselves.</p>
+
+<p>Such a lovely home as it was; full of curiosities, beautiful pictures,
+handsome statues and elegant furniture!</p>
+
+<p>Some unexpected visitors came in the afternoon, and Bertha found her
+grandma quite the center of attraction. She overheard one lady say:
+&quot;What a charming old lady! I feel like envying her relatives.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As for Ada, she made no further remarks. Her sister had been shocked at
+her thoughtless levity, and had threatened to inform Aunt Bell, of whom
+she stood in awe; and so Bertha had a very pleasant visit.</p>
+
+<p>She grew up with a sense of respect for old age; and Bertha Gilbert's
+pretty manners were often remarked upon. If she met with people less
+refined than herself, or poorly educated, instead of ridiculing them,
+she tried to think of their hard lives and few advantages, and was most
+tender and gracious.</p>
+
+<p>Let us all try to be kind to the poor and aged, for some of them are
+God's choicest jewels.</p>
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+<a name="puttingoff"></a><h2>PUTTING OFF TILL TO-MORROW</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;What made you stop right in the middle of your sentence, and then start
+talking about something entirely different?&quot; The questioner laughed, and
+her friend joined as she replied to the puzzled query.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I think in time, I make it a rule never to say to-day the mean thing
+that can be put off until to-morrow,&quot; she explained. &quot;So to-morrow it is
+out of date, and does not get said at all.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="153"></a><center>
+<img src="images/153.gif" width="802" height="271" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<a name="nothingfinished"></a><h2>NOTHING FINISHED</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>I once had the curiosity to look into a little girl's work-box. And what
+do you suppose I found?</p>
+
+<p>Well, in the first place, I found a bead-purse, about half done; there
+was, however, no prospect of finishing it, for the needles were out, and
+the silk upon the spools all tangled and drawn into a complete wisp.</p>
+
+<p>Laying this aside, I took up a piece of perforated paper, upon which was
+wrought one lid of a Bible, and beneath it the words, &quot;I love&quot;—but what
+she loved was left for me to imagine.</p>
+
+<p>Beneath the Bible lid I found a stocking, evidently intended for some
+baby foot; but it had come to a stand just upon the little heel, and
+there it seemed doomed to remain.</p>
+
+<p>Near to the stocking was a needle-book, one cover of which was neatly
+made, and upon the other, partly finished, was marked, &quot;To my dear—.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I need not, however, tell you all that I found there; but this much I
+can say, that during my travels through that workbox, I found not a
+single article complete; and silent and dumb as they were, these
+half-finished, forsaken things told me a sad story about that little
+girl.</p>
+
+<p>They told me that, with a heart full of generous affection, with a head
+full of useful and pretty projects, all of which she had both the means
+and the skill to carry into effect, she was still a useless
+child,—always doing but never accomplishing her work. It was not a lack
+of industry, but a lack of perseverance.</p>
+
+<p>Remember, my dear little friends, that it matters but little what great
+thing we undertake. Our glory is not in that, but in what we accomplish.
+Nobody in the world cares for what we <i>mean</i> to do; but people will open
+their eyes to see what men and women and little children <i>have</i> done.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+<a name="WHATS_THE_USE"></a><h2>WHAT'S THE USE</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;How much did you ever make by complaining?&quot; asked a man of his
+&quot;disgruntled&quot; granddaughter. &quot;Come, now, be honest with yourself, and
+think it all out and see if you do not lose by grumbling.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Finding fault is indeed an unprofitable occupation. It &quot;snarls you up
+inside,&quot; as the little boy said of his hot temper, and so puts you out
+of joint with the world that you are sure to find something more to
+grumble about, and so it goes from bad to worse all the while.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="155"></a><center>
+<img src="images/155.gif" width="806" height="575" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Get away!</i>&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="susydiller"></a><h2>SUSY DILLER'S CHRISTMAS FEAST</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;Please'm, only a penny. I'm most froze and starved!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The carriage stood at the edge of the sidewalk, and Mrs. Linley was just
+going out with her two children to buy some Christmas gifts. Nellie was
+all scarlet and ermine, her sweet, happy face framed in with golden
+curls, and Master Frank not a whit behind in elegance, though a trifle
+more haughty, as you could tell by the wide distance he gave the
+miserable little beggar.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Get away!&quot; said Mrs. Linley, with a disdainful sweep of the hand.</p>
+
+<p>The woman and the child looked at each other—one of those glances that
+stamp a face upon one's memory. Mrs. Linley was always afraid of street
+trash. They might have fever, or small pox, or some other infection,
+lurking in their rags.</p>
+
+<p>The carriage drove on. The children were happy, generous, well-behaved,
+and belonged to a Christian family. They were going to prove all this
+now. Besides gifts for mama and papa, and some little cousins, half a
+dozen poor children were to be remembered.</p>
+
+<p>They spent all the pleasant, sunshiny middle of the day going from shop
+to shop. What hosts of tempting things! A perfect Santa Clause revel
+everywhere. It was like a glimpse of fairy-land.</p>
+
+<p>Frank and Nellie laughed and talked, ran to mama with a hundred pretty
+things, but did not tease.</p>
+
+<p>They had quite a load in the carriage. And oh! wouldn't lame Johnny
+Ashton be delighted with his books, and the wheel-chair mama had bought
+him, and Susy Dorr would be the happiest of the happy in her new plaid
+dress, and her teacups and saucers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Poor children love to play just as well as rich children, don't they,
+mama?&quot; said grave, sweet Nellie.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope you will never forget, my dear, that we are all created alike,
+and that all the poor little ones are just as precious in God's sight.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And it is so nice to make them happy!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Linley gave her darling a smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And Christ the Lord was born for everybody,&quot; Frank added in a
+reflective manner. &quot;My teacher told me so on Sabbath,—so that all
+little children might be saved, and,—have a merry Christmas.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Maybe they can't all have a merry Christmas. Some are very poor and
+sick, and nobody seems to care for them—like the little beggar-girl who
+stood watching us when we started. O mama! isn't it hard? What becomes
+of them?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The sweet face was full of tender pity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God takes care of them, like the sparrows,&quot; said Frank.</p>
+
+<a name="157"></a><img src="images/157.gif" width="557" height="865" align="left" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>They shivered with the cold.</i>&quot;]" title="">
+
+
+<p>Mrs. Linley did not answer. Already her heart condemned her, for after
+all, she was a kind-hearted woman. She half expected to find the
+wretched object on her doorstep. If so, she would try to make amends for
+her harsh words. But she was not there.</p>
+
+<p>When they returned home from shopping, they shivered with the cold and
+ran to the register. Then papa came home, and they had the happiest
+Christmas eve imaginable. Of course one cannot make one's charities go
+all around the world, but Mrs. Linley thought she had stretched hers a
+long distance. So she had. And yet she might have given the child at her
+door a few pennies. But street-beggars were so often thieves!</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the little beggar girl wandered on. For nearly a week she had
+slept in the station-house and begged a little during the day, just
+enough to keep body and soul together. She used to sell matches and
+pins, but she had no capital to buy a new stock, and there were so many
+in the trade. A month ago the old woman with whom she had lived died
+suddenly. Then she had to live the best she could.</p>
+
+<p>She went on asking now and then for a penny. Some gave the forlorn
+little beggar a scowl, some did not even deign to look, and one or two
+men spoke roughly to her. Oh! She was so hungry and so cold.</p>
+
+<p>The bright sunshine did not seem to warm her a bit. She looked wistfully
+into basement windows. She stared at the merry, happy children who ran
+by in warm clothing. Her shoes were out to the ground; her tatters
+flapped in the biting wind.</p>
+
+<p>It was growing colder and colder. She ran along until she came to a
+restaurant. Such a delightful, savory smell came through the grating,
+and a faint warmth that was most grateful to her. Not a mouthful of
+anything had she eaten since yesterday noon. People went along with
+great market baskets full; men with bundles in their arms, girls and
+boys with Christmas gifts,—all hurrying homeward.</p>
+
+<a name="159"></a><center>
+<img src="images/159.gif" width="542" height="793" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>She came to a restaurant.</i>&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<p>&quot;Move on, move on, there!&quot; said the stern voice of a policeman.</p>
+
+<p>What if she was arrested and sent to prison? She would have something to
+eat. And the pain gnawing at her stomach was so hard to bear. There was
+a jacket she might steal—the men around would be sure to see her. She
+reached out her hand.</p>
+
+<p>No, she couldn't. She never had been a thief. She remembered her mother,
+who had died two years ago. The pretty lady getting into the carriage
+had made her think of <i>her</i>! Oh! how good it was that the dear mother
+could never be hungry again. And she had said, &quot;Jennie, <i>never tell a
+lie, never steal</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She sat down on a doorstep and began to cry. It was very cold now, and
+she was so chilled that the tears froze on her thin cheeks. She curled
+herself up in the corner. If she could only get to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hillo!&quot; said a cheerful voice, and some one shook her by the shoulder.
+&quot;You'll freeze to death here! It's pinching cold! You better run home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lemme be. I haven't any home. And I was almost asleep. You've brought
+all the old pain back.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Sturdy young Susy Diller, herself a poor working girl, dragged up the
+forlorn little object and scanned the thin, blue face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Where have you been?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Station-houses and such,&quot; the child answered sullenly. &quot;After old Molly
+died, they turned me out. I hadn't any capital, so I had to go out of
+trade. I've tried to beg—&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="161"></a><img src="images/161.gif" width="279" height="719" align="right" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>She sat down on a doorstep and began to cry.</i>&quot;]" title="">
+
+
+<p>Susy stood considering. What would Granny say if she brought the poor
+thing home? &quot;Don't you ask another one to your Christmas party,&quot; she had
+said already. &quot;There won't be room for 'em to stand on one foot.&quot; Susy
+drew her sleeve across her eyes. Somehow her heart had grown very tender
+since she had been going to the mission school. A little scene flashed
+into her mind: On Sabbath, Mr. Linley, the most splendid man in the
+world, Susy insisted to Granny, had been explaining to the boys and
+girls how even the Saviour of all the world had been houseless.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wish I'd been there!&quot; said Susy bravely, &quot;I'd a' took Him in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Susy,&quot; replied Mr. Linley, &quot;when we do such a thing for the very
+poorest and meanest, we do it for the Lord.&quot; And then he read the
+beautiful commendation that the Saviour was to bestow at the last upon
+those who did what they could in this world, picturing their blessed joy
+and surprise as they said: &quot;Lord, when saw we Thee hungry and fed Thee,
+or sick and ministered unto Thee?&quot; He had a way of making such vivid
+pictures that the boys used to listen wide-eyed and open-mouthed.</p>
+
+<p>So Susy had announced to Granny that she meant to give a Christmas
+party, and repeated to her all the conversation at the Sabbath-school as
+she always did.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought you was going to get that nice new jacket? And you have just
+money enough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll wait two or three weeks for that,&quot; declared Susy. &quot;You see it's so
+much nicer on Christmas. I don't understand a bit how the Saviour did
+come down to earth, but it seems good to think He was a little boy,
+though He was a good sight better'n any of us. When you think of all
+that, you can get kinder nigh to him, just as I do to Mr. Linley, our
+Sabbath-school teacher.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And maybe, if we ask in the poor and lame, He will look down and think
+Susy Diller is trying to keep Christmas the right way. There'll be lame
+Tim Jenkins,—you know he was run over by the street cars,—-and Humpy,
+whose mother is dead, and the little Smith that I set up in the paper
+business, and Kit Benner, who's been sick and lost his place, and—&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was then that Granny had said: &quot;Don't ask another one. There won't be
+room enough for 'em to stand on one foot.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And we'll have a rousin' turkey,—I know where I can get one real
+cheap,—and cranberry sauce, and pickles, and mince pie. A regular
+feast, and no mistake!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But finally Susy had found two more; so now there were six of them. Susy
+had work in a factory and took care of Granny, who was too old to do
+much of anything, and was almost bent double with rheumatism. They had a
+room on the second floor of a tumble-down barrack, and one small bedroom
+out of it; but Granny thought it almost a palace, because Susy was so
+good to her.</p>
+
+<p>And now here was one more to share their Christmas dinner. What would
+Granny say! But the young missionary did not stop long to consider the
+matter,—here was a case of real suffering, and Susy's conscience
+quickly adjusted itself—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come along,&quot; said Susy to the little vagrant, thinking somehow of the
+Lord of all who had not where to lay His head.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For maybe if He was here,&quot; she soliloquized, &quot;we shouldn't be able to
+tell Him from anyone else. And it's just—anybody.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="164"></a><center>
+<img src="images/164.gif" width="500" height="392" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>She dropped into a little heap before the fire.</i>&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<p>Susy took the little estray by the arm, and hurried her along. Poor
+little Jennie! her feet seemed hardly to touch the ground, they were so
+cold and numb. She didn't much care even if she was being taken to the
+station house.</p>
+
+<p>But she wasn't. After a while she felt the warmth and heard the voices,
+but she was so tired and sleepy that she dropped into a little heap
+before the fire and only heard her young rescuer say:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let her sleep, Granny; it'll do her more good than anything else.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="165"></a><center>
+<img src="images/165.gif" width="434" height="374" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;It was a famous Christmas feast.&quot;</i>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<p>&quot;But, Susy, child, we can't take care of her all the time. And—&quot;
+Granny stopped there, looking into Susy's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's Christmas eve, Granny. I feel as if we ought to do something, even
+if we have only a manger to take people into.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>By and by, Jennie Morgan, the poor little waif, woke up, had some
+supper, and told her story. It was like hundreds of others, only her
+mother was a beautiful lady. She had seen some one in the street this
+morning that looked just like her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She's smart and chipper, Granny, and she'll soon be better,&quot; said Susy.</p>
+
+<p>Jennie's cheeks were very red the next morning, and her eyes very
+bright; moreover, her voice had a curious tremble in it, but she
+declared she was quite well. It was so delightful to be housed and warm,
+and to have no great hungry pangs gnawing at her stomach.</p>
+
+<p>Susy went out a while, and Granny prepared her turkey to roast. Poor
+Jennie thought there never had been such a savory fragrance before.</p>
+
+<p>It was a famous Christmas feast. There were lame Tim with a clean face,
+and a new red necktie to do honor to the occasion; Humpy, as the little
+fellow was called, who sold pins, tape, and shoe strings on the corner,
+and had grown deformed from a bad fall; Kit Benner, looking white enough
+and thin enough to frighten you; three others, and the little stray
+Jennie Morgan, besides Granny, in a new cap and new calico gown.</p>
+
+<p>Such a time as they had! They were so crowded around the table that
+they had hardly elbow room. They made jokes, laughed, drank Granny's
+health in the fragrant coffee, and were as happy as the happiest.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, over at Mr. Linley's they had a grand tree. Nellie, dressed
+like a fairy, distributed the gifts, carefully laying aside those for
+the poor. Of course they could not ask such people into their
+festivities. It was honor enough to hang their gifts on their beautiful
+tree. Then Mrs. Linley played, and they had some charming carols.</p>
+
+<p>They had two or three songs sung also at Susy Diller's. Susy had learned
+them at the mission school. Finally Jennie begged to lie down in the
+corner by the stove, for she felt a little chilly, and her head was
+aching.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O Susy, won't you sing again?&quot; she pleaded. &quot;It's like heaven. Mother
+used to tell me about it. And do you suppose that the Lord Jesus cares
+for little girls who have to live on the street and sleep where they
+can? Sometimes they can't help lying and stealing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, He <i>does</i> care. Mr. Linley told me so. You see,&quot; and Susy laid her
+forefinger in the palm of the other hand, &quot;you see this is the way: He
+puts the thought into other people's hearts, 'cause He isn't here any
+more to do the work.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh!&quot; said Jennie slowly, and with a sage nod, &quot;wouldn't it be good,
+Susy, if He would put it into the hearts of rich folks? they could do so
+much.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sometimes He does. Look at the newsboys' dinner! And there's a good
+many things.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Poor Jennie sighed a little. She could not make it out straight in her
+tired brain.</p>
+
+<p>The crowd went away presently, declaring that it was the jolliest sort
+of a Christmas. They thanked Susy and Granny over and over again.</p>
+
+<p>The next day was Sabbath. Susy begged Mr. Linley to come and see the
+little sick girl at her house. And one way and another, the story of the
+Christmas feast came out.</p>
+
+<p>For Jennie, the little beggar girl, was very sick. Cold and hunger had
+done their worst. It had been so hard and dreary since her mother died,
+with no one to care for her, and to have to dodge around continually,
+kicked and cuffed and almost starved. And if the Lord up above <i>did</i>
+care—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She's a pretty sick little girl,&quot; said Susy, &quot;but Granny and I will do
+our best to pull her through.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Linley felt the pulse and shook his head. The fever was high and
+there was no strength to battle with it.</p>
+
+<p>And then he looked into Susy's great, wistful eyes, and was touched to
+the heart. The child had learned the sweetest and noblest lesson of all.
+She had gone out into the highway and hedges, she had gathered in the
+lame and the halt and the blind.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You see I've grown fond of her, a'ready,&quot; explained Susy. &quot;I'd do
+anything for her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm afraid it's too late. I will send in a doctor, and some delicacies
+from the house.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you please, I'd rather not have you do the last. You see Granny
+spoke a little cross at first, and now she's trying to make it all up to
+her. She'll feel better if she does everything; and she's a good heart,
+has Granny.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>What a point of conscience here amid poverty and ignorance!</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The lessons have not all been on my side,&quot; said Mr. Linley to his wife
+afterward. &quot;The poor little factory girl has taught me something that I
+shall never forget. To think of her going without her coat that she
+might provide a dinner for some homeless, hungry children. I wish you
+would go and see them, my dear.&quot; Mrs. Linley went with her husband.</p>
+
+
+<a name="169"></a><center>
+<img src="images/169.gif" width="434" height="374" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;O Mother! Mother!&quot;</i>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>Susy stared as if she had seen an angel. Granny dropped a curtesy, and
+dusted a chair with her apron.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Little Jennie,&quot; Susy whispered, &quot;poor little girl, can't you open your
+eyes a minute?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She opened them—wider—wider. Then she rose a little and stared
+around—stretched out her trembling hands toward Mrs. Linley, and
+cried:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;O mother! mother! Susy said I should find you. I tried to be good, not
+to lie or steal, though I was nearly starved. And Susy's been so—kind.
+She brought me in—to the Christmas—dinner—&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Linley caught the swaying form in her arms. The last words quivered
+slowly on her lips and her eyes drooped. She remembered just where she
+had seen the child, and a pang of bitter self-upbraiding pierced her
+heart. She kissed the still lips for her mother's sake, and laid her
+gently down. Had Susy and Granny entertained an angel unawares, while
+her blind eyes had not been able to discern &quot;the least of these?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh!&quot; said Susy sobbing, &quot;I'm so glad you came. I s'pose she thought it
+was her own mother, for she has talked about her all the time. Poor
+little girl! I shall always be thankful that I brought her in out of the
+cold, though I never guessed she was going to die.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The fame of your Christmas feast has gone up among the angels, Susy,&quot;
+said Mr. Linley reverently. &quot;And now, my dear girl, have little Jennie
+buried where you like, and bring the bill to me. I want a little share
+in your good work.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. and Mrs. Linley walked home quietly. Had her beautiful Christmas
+tree borne any such fruit as this?</p>
+
+<p>&quot;For I was an hungered and ye fed me.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+
+<a name="171"></a><center>
+<img src="images/171.gif" width="808" height="466" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="barn"></a><h2>THE BARN THAT BLOSSOMED</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother, it was dreadful!&quot; Gerry's face was all shades of soberness, and
+her voice had a suspicious quiver in it. &quot;I almost wish I hadn't seen.
+The house is fairly tumbling down; they couldn't have been warm once
+last winter. And there were five of them, from the baby up to Tad; he's
+twelve. Such clothes! Just as if somebody's rag-bag had fallen apart and
+begun to walk around. No wonder poor little Mrs. Jimson is nothing but a
+mite of discouragement. Old Jim wasn't much of a man; but I suppose he
+did put a bite inside of the rags once in a while, and she doesn't know
+where even that is coming from, now he's gone. At least, not bites
+enough to satisfy five unragged appetites.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mother Brace's hands fell upon the potato-pan, knife and all. &quot;Why,
+Gerry, child, what can we do? Our own bites aren't any too big; but I
+suppose we can spare a few vegetables now and again, if any grow
+without old Jim to hoe them. But we certainly haven't any houses or
+extra clothes, unless—maybe I could spare—&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can't spare a single clo', you blessed mother!&quot; interrupted Gerry.
+&quot;You're not to worry at all, but I am going to think and think. I'm sure
+I shouldn't be made to feel so bad if there wasn't something I could do
+to help.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With which cheerful logic she sprang up and set about finishing her
+morning's work, interrupted to attend the short and simple funeral
+service said over the body of &quot;old Jim Jimson,&quot; who had given them such
+help as they could not dispense with in their square bit of garden, and
+squandered the money that should have provided for the wife and five
+children whose wretchedness had torn Gerry's tender heart.</p>
+
+<p>All day she thought and thought; and, as she washed the supper dishes,
+she was still thinking:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, Gerry Brace, what are your worldly possessions, anyway? Clothes
+enough to be a wee bit more than respectable, a house plenty big for
+two, but certainly not stretchable to take in six more, a little piece
+of garden, and a nice big piece of grass and trees, and a barn. A barn!&quot;
+she repeated, clasping her hands in the dish-water with a splash.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother Brace,&quot; she said ten minutes later, when she sat on the top step
+of the front porch with her arms across her mother's knee. &quot;I believe
+I've hit on the very thing to do. There are the Jimsons in their
+tumble-down house, and here are we with a perfectly whole, clean barn
+without even a cat in it. Don't you see the possibilities? Presto!
+Change! There is the tumble-down house empty, and here are the Jimsons
+living in the perfectly whole barn.&quot; Mother Brace gasped.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But Gerry—&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, mother dear, please don't 'but.' You know there are two parts to
+the barn down-stairs, and up-stairs there are three. They could have a
+living-room, kitchen, and three bed-rooms.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="173"></a><img src="images/173.gif" width="459" height="662" align="left" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>I believe I've hit on the very thing to do</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+
+
+<p>&quot;Yes'm,&quot; said Mother Brace meekly, &quot;but where would they get the three
+beds?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, I suppose they sleep on something now, though probably it wouldn't
+fit our clean barn; that's a fact.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Gerry looked crestfallen. Then she brightened again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I can think that out, too, seeing I thought of the barn. The
+question is, mother, would you be willing to have them come!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was silence on the porch for a few minutes while Mother Brace
+watched the sunset over beyond the hills.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It looks like the gates of the celestial city,&quot; she said at last,
+&quot;where there are homes for everybody. Yes, Gerry, dear, I'd be willing
+to have them come, if there's anyway of fixing it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gerry squeezed the work-roughened hand that had slipped into hers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You blessed! Of course, I knew you would. Mother, I'm going to Aunt
+Serinda about the beds.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your Aunt Serinda?&quot; Mother Brace gasped again. &quot;Why, Gerry!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes'm,&quot; repeated Gerry. &quot;I'm going to Aunt Serinda. There is no sense
+in having a garret full of old furniture when there's an empty barn just
+hungry for it. If she hasn't enough, I'll go to Mrs. Squires. I'll take
+up a collection, mother, a missionary collection.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm afraid your Aunt Serinda will think—&quot; began Mother Brace faintly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I know she will think,&quot; Gerry agreed. &quot;She will say, 'How
+perfectly ridiculous!' But before I get through she will give me a bed
+and very likely a blanket. I shall start out to-morrow morning and see
+what I can do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>True to her word, the sun had not dried the dew from the grass that was
+rapidly growing green under its spring warmth before Gerry was on her
+way up the neat box-bordered walk at Aunt Serinda's.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Jimsons!&quot; sputtered that good woman when Gerry began to dilate upon
+their forlorn condition. &quot;Jimson weeds I call 'em. Of all the shiftless,
+good-for-nothing lots! They can't be much worse off now old Jim's gone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, ma'am,&quot; said Gerry; &quot;they don't need to be. They are going to be
+better off, Aunt Serinda. They're coming to live in our barn. You know
+we never use it, and it's a specially tight barn, with more windows than
+most.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Serinda held up her hands in horror.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In—your—barn? How perfectly ridiculous! Why, they'll bring microbes
+enough to poison you all. And they'll run over everything.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope so,&quot; said Gerry promptly. &quot;Little Jimson-weeds have to run
+somewhere. It might better be over our good clean grass than down there
+in the centre where there's mischief waiting to be done every minute.
+They won't bring any microbes, though, because I mean to have them burn
+up all their old things before they come, I'm taking up a collection
+this morning to furnish the barn. You are going to give me a bed and
+some other things out of the attic, aren't you, auntie?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, of all things!&quot; Aunt Serinda stood with her hands on her hips,
+and stared at Gerry. &quot;If you aren't the beat of any girl I ever saw! I
+suppose you'd like to have me take down my kitchen stove for 'em, and
+send along the spring rocker, from the parlor, besides.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gerry laughed cheerily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, no, auntie, only just the things up in the attic that you can spare
+as well as not. You know you'd rather someone would have the use of them
+than to have them wasted up there. Couldn't we go up now and see? I
+ought to hurry a little. I may have to go to lots of places before I get
+enough.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Serinda turned, and led the way up stairs without a word.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is a bed,&quot; she admitted when they stood under the peaked roof. &quot;I
+took it down from the spare room when Mary Ellen bought the brass one to
+sleep in when she comes. The mattress wouldn't fit any other; so I
+suppose it might as well go along. There's some patchwork quilts in that
+chest, too, that Mary Ellen never liked. I guess you could have some of
+those.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was very exciting, picking out and setting aside. Just why Aunt
+Serinda, with all her abundance, had treasured so many old things was a
+question. Probably it was because few people knew the keys to her heart
+as Gerry did, and so no one had ever asked her for them. And it was not
+Aunt Serinda's nature to give without asking.</p>
+
+<a name="177"></a><center>
+<img src="images/177.gif" width="474" height="436" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>It was very exciting, picking out and setting aside</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>Once started, however, it seemed to be easy enough.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Those chairs over there,&quot; she said finally, dusting her hands upon her
+apron when the collection had grown to a very respectable size, &quot;they
+don't need much mending; I guess James can do it to-night. How are you
+going to get all this stuff over to the barn?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I don't know.&quot; Gerry paused aghast. &quot;I never once thought of that. I'll
+find a way, though, or make it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, I expect you would,&quot; said Aunt Serinda, smiling grimly; &quot;but this
+time you needn't. I'll have James hitch up the long wagon and take 'em
+over when you're ready, and he could pick up anything else you collect,
+on the way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Gerry stood for a minute with shining eyes, irresolute. Then she flew at
+Aunt Serinda, and, throwing both arms around that astonished person's
+neck, planted a warm kiss on the nearest cheek.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Auntie, you're a—a winter apple! Just as crisp and reliable and sweet
+inside! I like you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mercy me!&quot; said Aunt Serinda, quite abashed. &quot;Mercy me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The quarter of a mile down the road to Mrs. Squires' house seemed to
+slide from under Gerry's feet. Mrs. Squires was round and rosy and
+sympathetic.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, yes, my dear, of course, I'll help. I'm through cleaning, and
+there are some things I've been wondering what to do with. I haven't any
+beds, but there is a rusty cook-stove in the cellar that I'll be only
+too glad to have you take. I should think it could be cleaned up and do
+very well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, thank you,&quot; said Gerry eagerly; &quot;I can black it and all that.
+And Aunt Serinda's James will come for it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There were several additions to the cook-stove before Gerry hurried on
+to Judge Beaker's, following the suggestion that the Beaker girls had
+just refurnished their bedroom.</p>
+
+<p>It was close after house-cleaning time, and rummage sales had not yet
+found their way into East Greenfield; so it was not very wonderful that
+by noon Gerry really had enough things promised her to furnish the barn
+with a comfort that would seem luxury to the young Jimsons and their
+mother.</p>
+
+<p>It must be confessed that the finishing touch for Gerry was given when
+she leaned on the window-sill to tell the story to little lame Ruthie
+West, not because she expected anything there, but because she was so
+happy that she could not help stopping to share it with some one. Ruthie
+laughed over the yellow soap feelingly offered by Mr. Evans, and cried
+over the cook-stove, and when it was all told exclaimed earnestly:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, Gerry, I must do something; I just must! I haven't any things, even
+if you needed them; but you come in, please, and get my Japanese box out
+of the bureau drawer. It's got my gold piece in it. It's truly mine,
+Gerry; Mr. Graves gave it to me last Christmas, and I haven't been able
+to think of anything nice enough to do with it. Now I know. You take it,
+Gerry, and buy some pretty stuff to make some frilly things, and some
+curtains, maybe—if there's enough. They'll love to have pretty things;
+I know they will. And, Gerry, maybe it will help them to be good, those
+little Jimson-weeds,&quot; quoting Aunt Serinda softly.</p>
+
+<p>Tears rolled down Gerry's cheeks onto the shining piece of gold in
+Ruthie's hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You—darling!&quot; she whispered, and could not say anything more.</p>
+
+<p>Mother Brace's potatoes grew quite cold while she listened to Gerry's
+excited reports, and grew as much excited herself in the hearing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'll begin to sweep the barn this afternoon,&quot; she declared, hustling
+the dishes off the table. &quot;I don't want that poor Jimson soul to wait a
+minute longer than she must to have it all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The dust was flying in clouds from the open barndoors when the &quot;poor
+Jimson soul&quot; herself came dragging up the path with the baby in her arms
+and a dingy black dress, manifestly borrowed, trailing forlornly behind
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, my!&quot; thought Gerry as she watched her coming. &quot;I never remembered
+the clothes. They'll have to have them. I wonder—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come right in, Mrs. Jimson,&quot; she interrupted herself; &quot;come and sit
+down here. You must be tired with such a long walk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I ain't no more tired than I always am,&quot; Mrs. Jimson answered drearily,
+dropping into the rocker Gerry pushed forward. &quot;I ain't never been
+rested, and I don't never expect to be. I've come to see if you've got
+anything I can do to earn some money. Folks has been good, and we've
+had enough to eat so far; but it stands to reason I've got to do
+something myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; Gerry nodded gravely, &quot;and the children will have to help. Maybe
+Tad can do some of the gardening ol—Mr. Jimson used to do, and Jennie's
+big enough to take care of the little ones and help do the housework so
+you can go out part of the time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I guess all the housework won't hurt her,&quot; sighed Mrs. Jimson, brushing
+away a slow tear that was stealing down her cheek. But at the same
+moment a ray of hope began to steal into her heart with Gerry's brisk
+planning.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'd be willing to do anything,&quot; she went on more energetically. &quot;I
+ain't lazy, though folks may think so; but I've got plum discouraged.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And now you are going to take heart o' grace and begin again,&quot; declared
+Mother Brace, coming in with her broom over her shoulder in time to hear
+the last words. &quot;I suppose, then, you're willing to come and scrub my
+barn floors for me to-morrow morning. They won't be very hard, but I
+can't get down so long on account of my knee. I can pay you fifty
+cents.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I'll come.&quot; Mrs. Jimson straightened up so eagerly that she nearly
+dropped the baby. &quot;And I'll get 'em clean, too. I know how if I don't
+look it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Telegraphic signs passed between Mother Brace and Gerry by which it was
+decided to say nothing about the moving at present. Nevertheless Mrs.
+Jimson went home much lighter of heart and foot than when she came,
+though she carried several extra pounds in the way of vegetables and
+fresh bread.</p>
+
+<p>Hardly was she out of sight when Mrs. Thomas Benton, president of the
+Ladies' Aid Society, rapped at the Braces' front door.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You see,&quot; she told Gerry when she had recovered her breath, being
+somewhat portly for so steep a hill, &quot;we've heard about your barn plan,
+and we thought we'd better have a finger in the pie. So we decided that
+instead of packing a barrel for the heathen just now we will dress up
+the Jimson's, so as to have them match better with their new home. Oh,
+we shall do the heathen before long, too; only we thought maybe this was
+an 'ought to have done and not leave the other undone.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Bright and early next morning Mrs. Jimson was on her knees scrubbing the
+barn floors, little dreaming that she was helping to lay the foundation
+for her own future happiness.</p>
+
+<p>She could not have been more thorough, had she known, much to Mother
+Brace's satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There's good stuff in her,&quot; was the verdict. &quot;She may be a weed, but
+she'll pay for cultivating.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It was nearly a week before the barn was ready, a week so busy that
+Gerry's bones ached when she stretched them in bed each night, but so
+happy that she cared not at all for the aches. Aunt Serinda's James
+toiled up and down the hill with the long wagon loaded more than once;
+Ruthie's loving fingers flew upon the ruffles and frills; Gerry and her
+mother set things straight, nailing and tacking diligently; and
+gradually the barn became transformed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's blossomed like the rose!&quot; Gerry announced joyously. &quot;It isn't a
+barn any longer; it's a cottage. Oh, mother, it's better than a cottage;
+it's a home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Oh, it was very plain and simple; to some it might even have seemed
+bare, in spite of Ruthie's pretty things. But to Gerry, with the
+tumble-down house fresh in her memory, it was all that could be desired.</p>
+
+<a name="183"></a><img src="images/183.gif" width="438" height="538" align="right" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Mrs. Jimson was on her knees scrubbing the barn
+floor</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+
+
+<p>The morning it was all ready at last, in spotless order, with the bright
+sunshine and the soft spring breezes pouring in at the open windows,
+Gerry ran down the hill to the Centre.</p>
+
+<p>The little Jimsons were not playing in the mud outside the tumble-down
+house as usual. Mrs. Jimson met Gerry at the door in a trim dark calico
+dress that made a different woman of her. Seated in a beaming circle
+within were the five children, each clad from top to toe in clean, fresh
+garments, from Tad down to the baby, who was crowing in Jennie's arms,
+radiant in a gay pink gingham.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aren't we splendid, Miss Gerry?&quot; cried the little girl, pushing a
+glowing face out from behind the baby's head. &quot;Ma's just got us dressed
+up, and we're going to have a bonfire of the old ones.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was the Ladies' Aid, Miss Gerry,&quot; supplemented Mrs. Jimson almost as
+excitedly. &quot;They've just gone, Mrs. Benton has, and they brought us all
+these and more. Did you ever see anything like it? Of course, I'm going
+to help clean the church to help make up,&quot; she added with a new womanly
+dignity that was very becoming; &quot;but I couldn't never pay for the
+kindness, never!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's beautiful,&quot; said Gerry, &quot;beautiful! I couldn't tell how glad I am.
+I'm so glad, too, that you've got them on, for mother wants you to come
+up to the house a few minutes, all of you. It's something very
+important.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Seizing Tommy, the two-year-old, by the hand, she hurried off ahead of
+them, fearing she could not keep her secret if she delayed another
+instant. Up the hill and across the wide grassy yard she led them,
+straight to where Mother Brace stood in the barn doorway.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I've brought them,&quot; she said, and stopped, overwhelmed by this crowning
+moment.</p>
+
+<a name="185"></a><center>
+<img src="images/185.gif" width="545" height="787" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>We want to show you our new house</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<p>&quot;We want you to see our new house we've fixed up,&quot; Mother Brace
+explained, coming to the rescue. &quot;Come in, all of you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Considerably bewildered, Mrs. Jimson obeyed, shooing the children before
+her like a flock of chickens. It was not usual for her to be called upon
+for opinion or approval; and she made the most of it, exclaiming with
+admiration and delight as they made the rounds of the tiny bedrooms, and
+stood once more in the long, shining kitchen with its neatly blackened
+stove and its row of polished tin pans.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It couldn't be no completer, no ways,&quot; she pronounced judgment. &quot;Nor no
+prettier.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then Gerry found her voice, and the words came tumbling out in joyful
+haste.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It's all for you, Mrs. Jimson. You're to come here this very day, and
+this is to be your home. You are to sleep in the bedrooms, and cook in
+the kitchen, and—&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I don't understand,&quot; faltered Mrs. Jimson, her bewilderment
+deepening with every second. &quot;Where did it come from? Whose is it?
+How—&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It came from everybody,&quot; laughed Gerry tremulously. &quot;Lots of people
+helped. And it's yours, I tell you, to live in as long as you want to,
+you and the children. Don't you see, dear?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Little Mrs. Jimson dropped down suddenly in the middle of the shining
+floor.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, my land! my land!&quot; she sobbed, rocking to and fro. &quot;I never knew
+there was such folks in the world. I feel just as if I'd got into one o'
+the many mansions!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mother Brace patted the bent shoulders gently.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have,&quot; she said, her voice catching, &quot;into one He's been preparing
+for you. Only instead of angels He used a lot of warm, loving human
+hands to do it with.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 55%;">
+<br>
+
+<a name="IShallNotWant"></a><h3>&quot;I SHALL NOT WANT&quot;</h3>
+<br>
+
+<p>&quot;The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I shall not want food. &quot;I am the bread of life. He that cometh to Me
+shall never hunger.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I shall not want drink. &quot;If any man thirsteth let him come unto me and
+drink.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I shall not want rest. &quot;Come unto Me all ye that labor and are heavy
+laden, and I will give you rest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I shall not want guidance. &quot;I am the way; no man cometh unto the Father
+but by Me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I shall not want companionship. &quot;I have called you friends.&quot; &quot;Lo, I am
+with you always.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I shall not want joy. &quot;These things have I spoken unto you that My joy
+might remain in you, and that your joy might be full.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>I shall not want honor. &quot;If any man serve me, him will My Father honor.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="188"></a><center>
+<img src="images/188.gif" width="827" height="462" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>We shall find plenty to do to-day</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<a name="dorothyangel"></a><h2>HOW DOROTHY HELPED THE ANGEL</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p>Two angels met one misty morning in one of the Lanes of Light: one, the
+Angel of Encouragement; the other, the Angel of the Rainbow, who
+brightens things up generally.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We shall find plenty to do to-day, companion,&quot; remarked the latter;
+&quot;things are looking rather gloomy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah!&quot; said the Angel of Encouragement, &quot;how blessed are we who carry
+heaven's sunlight ever with us, and ever round us!&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="189a"></a><img src="images/189a.gif" width="234" height="289" align="left" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Encourage somebody</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+
+
+<p>And then they parted.</p>
+
+<p>The Angel of Encouragement entered a house where a young girl was trying
+to light a fire. A gray, weary day stretched in front of her, and the
+tears would come. Some girls of her age were still at school. She was a
+girl with ambitions; many a rosy castle of fancy had been built by her,
+but built only to vanish.</p>
+
+<p>The angel bent over her, and whispered: &quot;Try to encourage somebody
+to-day.&quot; And thinking it was her own inner self that had spoken, she
+answered, &quot;Yes, perhaps that is the wise way after all.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="189b"></a><img src="images/189b.gif" width="221" height="254" align="right" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Cheer up</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+
+<p>Directly breakfast was over a postcard had to be taken to the letter box
+for mother. The angel's thought had brought a bright light into the
+girl's face. A little fellow was coming towards her, and he was crying;
+the school bell had awakened fears. Instantly her arm was round his
+neck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Cheer up! It will soon be going-home time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will it?&quot; asked the child, and his sobs ceased.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes. I felt like crying this morning. But it's better to be brave.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A business man was hurrying along, but paused to watch the work of
+comforting. His heart was heavy, too, but her words: &quot;It will soon be
+going-home time—it's better to be brave,&quot; like a sweet chime, kept with
+him all the day.</p>
+
+<a name="190a"></a><img src="images/190a.gif" width="198" height="237" align="left" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Hope on</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+
+
+<p>As the girl re-entered the house a song was on her lips, and a tired
+woman turning a washing-machine next door caught it. She looked round
+her—there was such a heap of work to do—and dinner to think of for
+husband and children. No wonder there was a worried look on her face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hope on! hope on! Though long the road and drear. Hope on! hope on! The
+sunlit hours are near.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="190b"></a><img src="images/190b.gif" width="199" height="249"
+align="right" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Broke the
+crust</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+
+<p>It was Dorothy Cummins singing! &quot;Hope on!&quot; The woman began to sing too.
+&quot;The sunlit hours are near!&quot; The washer went faster. The woman's face
+caught a gleam from the coming sunlight. &quot;Hope on! Hope on!&quot; It would
+yet be possible to get all the clothes out before noon.</p>
+
+
+<p>If she had looked into her neighbor's back garden just then she would
+have seen what the singer did. A little brown bird was vainly pecking
+away at a crust lying under a tree. Then the singer came, with soft,
+quick steps, and broke the crust into crumbs. The sunlit hour had come
+for the bird.</p>
+
+
+<p>And it even came for Brother George at dinner time. Joy bells did not
+always ring when he and Dorothy were in close quarters. To-day his
+sister remarked, as she looked over his shoulder at some exercise papers
+in his hands: &quot;What a nice writer you are, George. Father couldn't
+write a bit better than that, I'm sure.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't you make fun of a fellow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm not. I mean it.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="191a"></a><img src="images/191a.gif" width="205" height="191" align="left" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;I mean it.</i>&quot;]" title="">
+
+
+<p>It is strange, but true, words of praise do not often come in our way.
+The sunlight dazzled George just at first, but when he had grown
+familiar with it, he called out just before going off to school again:
+&quot;I say, Dorothy, don't you go chopping that wood. I'll do it when I come
+back again. Wood chopping isn't in a girl's line.&quot; He even shut the door
+so quietly that the mother at work at her machine did not know that he
+had gone—the mother who had to work so many hours in order to make ends
+meet during the husband's long illness. Her face looked very sad as she
+bent over her work, but such a change came over it as the door opened
+and the little housekeeper came in, bearing a cup of tea and a thin
+slice of bread and butter, laid daintily on a little tray.</p>
+
+<a name="191b"></a><center>
+<img src="images/191b.gif" width="225" height="262" align="right" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;I'm not tired now.&quot;<i/>]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, Dorothy, what have you got there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A cup of tea for you, mother, and you are to drink it, and to be sure
+to eat the bread and butter. I saw how little dinner you ate. I was
+watching you, and you did look so very tired and worn.&quot; &quot;But I'm not
+tired now,&quot; said the mother, &quot;not a bit of it. Why,&quot; lifting up her face
+from the teacup, &quot;your loving care has strengthened me already.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall be able to help you a lot after tea,&quot; said Dorothy, before
+returning to her kitchen duties.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as they were over, and she had changed her dress, she peeped
+into her father's room to see if he was sleeping.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dear daddy,&quot; said she, stroking his white brow and smoothing the
+pillow, &quot;you will soon be better now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How does my little one know that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because the doctor generally goes away frowning, but to-day he actually
+had a smile on his face. Daddy&quot;—with a sudden movement, as though she
+had just thought of something—&quot;shall I read you something? I have
+nothing to do before tea.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do, my darling.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The twenty-seventh Psalm was read in a soft, low voice.</p>
+
+<p>The sick man's eyes were riveted on the reader's face. &quot;Child, what
+made you read that Psalm?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Because, daddy, it's one of my favorites. Did you like it?&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="192"></a><center>
+<img src="images/192.gif" width="484" height="285" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>The twenty-seventh Psalm</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Yes.&quot; Then in a still lower voice, &quot;I must tell you this, for God has
+been so good to me. I have prayed all day that He would send me some
+sign or message. And then you bring me words that have put new life into
+me. 'I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the
+Lord in the land of the living.' 'Be strong, and let thine heart take
+courage.' Child,&quot; and there was a glad ring in the voice, &quot;you have been
+doing angel's work.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Twilight was filling the valley when again the angels met. &quot;How has your
+work fared to-day, companion?&quot; asked the Angel of the Rainbow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My work has sped well to-day, for a girl in a lowly home, just along
+the path of her daily life, has helped me greatly. Ever so many times
+during the hours of light she has started, here and there, the sweet
+chiming bells of hope.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah,&quot; said the Angel of the Rainbow, &quot;now I understand how it was they
+sounded so much clearer to-day, and why my colors were so bright. Did
+you see the lovely bow I threw across from hill to hill, and then a
+second one, the rays gleaming all down the cliffs? Did they not make you
+think of the Rainbow round the Throne? It is only as I catch hope's glad
+singing rising from the byways below that I can paint my brightest
+colors.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="194"></a><center>
+<img src="images/194.gif" width="802" height="377" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<a name="onegirl"></a><h2>ONE GIRL'S INFLUENCE</h2>
+
+
+<p>&quot;A young girl went from home,&quot; writes Mrs. Sangster, &quot;to a large school
+where more than usual freedom of action and less than customary
+restraints were characteristics of the management. She found very little
+decided religious life there—an atmosphere, upon the whole, unfavorable
+to Christian culture. But she had given herself to the Lord, and she
+could live nowhere without letting her light shine.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In a very short time she found two or three congenial spirits, more
+timid than herself, but equally devoted. A little prayer meeting began
+to be held once a week in her room. On Sabbaths in the afternoon, a few
+of the girls came together to study the Bible. Before the half year was
+over, the hallowed flame had swept from heart to heart, and there was a
+revival in that school.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="195"></a><center>
+<img src="images/195.gif" width="809" height="525" alt="[Illustration: <i> Yes, father, your dinner is ready</i>.]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<a name="twoservice"></a><h2>TWO KINDS OF SERVICE</h2>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you put up my dinner, Maude?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>John Melvin asked the question almost timidly. His daughter's face was
+clouded, her lips were compressed, and she was making a great deal of
+unnecessary noise as she moved about the kitchen. She did not reply at
+once, and when she spoke it was in no pleasant voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, father, your dinner is ready. Now I must put up the children's
+dinners, and there is the ironing to do, and I must do some cooking
+also. This will be a busy day with me, but all my days seem to be busy.
+Perhaps I do not understand how to keep ahead of the work. I have no
+time for recreation; there seems to be nothing in life for me but
+drudgery.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Melvin sighed heavily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sorry, Maude. If last season's crops had not failed, I should
+have hired some stout woman to do the heavy work. It is too much for
+you, a girl of nineteen, to have all these cares; but what can I do?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can do nothing, father, and no one is to blame. I expect to be a
+drudge. Amy,&quot; raising her voice, &quot;where are you? Go and pick up the
+breakfast dishes, and be quick about it. It isn't time to get ready for
+school. Fred, what are you doing? Haven't I told you not to whistle in
+the kitchen? Oh, dear! one needs more patience than any mortal ever
+had!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sorry, Maude,&quot; said Mr. Melvin, again. &quot;It was a sad day for us
+all when your mother died.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then the discouraged man, old and worn before his time, took his
+dinner-pail and started for the distant wood-lot.</p>
+
+<p>Maude continued to move rapidly about the kitchen and pantry, doing the
+morning's work and scolding the children in a shrill voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What's the use of being so cross, Maude?&quot; asked Amy, a bright-eyed girl
+of twelve. &quot;I can't see that it does any good.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't be so easy as you are, Amy. I wish things didn't fret me, but
+they do. And you have an easy time, while I have to work like a slave.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm sure I help you all I can, Maude. I don't suppose you want me to
+stay out of school to work.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You know I don't. You won't have time to do any more this morning.
+Now, Fred, I told you to study hard to-day and not fail in your
+lessons.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right sis,&quot; rejoined Fred carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Fred, how many times have I told you not to call me 'Sis?' I am tired
+beyond endurance. I don't want to hear another word from you this
+morning, sir,&quot; she added as she saw the boy was about to speak.</p>
+
+<p>As the children left the house, Fred looked significantly at his sister.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wasn't Maude cross this morning? How she did bang things!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Amy puckered up her brow.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't understand it, Fred. Maude is always scolding.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, and she belongs to the church. I'm glad I'm not a Christian, if
+she's one.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, hush, Fred! Christian people are happier than we are.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Humph! Maude professes to be a Christian, but she can't be happy. Seems
+to me she's the unhappiest person I know. Papa doesn't belong to the
+church, but he isn't always scolding.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, I can't understand it,&quot; sighed Amy. &quot;But, Fred, you know mama was
+a Christian.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She was a real Christian, too,&quot; said Fred soberly. &quot;But I guess it's
+hard work to be the real thing. Maude must be a make-believe one,&quot; he
+added.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, hush, Fred! I don't like to hear you say such things.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Left alone, Maude's hands were busy. At dinner time she ate a lunch,
+and at two o'clock was through her work.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Everything's in order,&quot; she thought, as she looked about the neat
+kitchen. &quot;And I'm not going to touch a bit of sewing this afternoon.
+I'll go into the sitting-room and rest until it's time to think about
+supper.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+
+<h4>THE DREAM</h4>
+
+<p>In the pleasant little sitting-room Maude sat down in an easy rocker at
+the front window and looked out over the snow-covered fields. Presently
+she saw the bent form of a little old lady in a black coat and red hood
+coming up the path.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Aunt Sarah Easler,&quot; she said to herself, &quot;and coming here, too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The old lady came in without knocking and Maude rose to meet her. Aunt
+Sarah seemed much agitated. She took both of the girl's hands in hers,
+tears streaming from her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it, Aunt Sarah?&quot; cried Maude. &quot;Has anything happened?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My poor child! My poor child! May God help you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Maude felt herself growing faint, but she resolutely banished the
+feeling.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What has happened?&quot; she asked, in a voice so calm that it astonished
+herself. &quot;The children?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The children are all right, my dear. It is your father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My father! What of him? Is he hurt?&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="199"></a><center>
+<img src="images/199.gif" width="661" height="1049" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Tired father? Supper's all ready</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<p>The old lady bowed her head and replied in a broken voice: &quot;Badly hurt,
+my dear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Maude grasped Aunt Sarah's arm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your face tells me that it is even worse than that,&quot; she said, calmly.
+&quot;Is he dead?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My poor child!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You need say no more. I know he is.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="200"></a><img src="images/200.gif" width="333" height="497" align="left" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;What is it, Aunt Sarah?&quot;</i>]" title="">
+
+<p>Even as Maude spoke, she looked out of the window and saw four men
+bearing her father's form on a stretcher. She did not faint or cry out,
+but in a moment her mind went back over the three years that had passed
+since her mother's death, and she saw wherein she had failed as a
+daughter and sister.</p>
+
+<p>Tears came to her relief, and as they gushed down over her cheeks she
+awoke with a start. She looked out of the window. Oh, thank God! no men
+were in sight, bearing her father's form on a stretcher.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was a dream,&quot; she murmured. &quot;Heavenly Father, I thank thee!&quot; And she
+formed a few resolutions and lifted up her heart in prayer for help.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How terribly I have erred and wandered from the way,&quot; she said aloud.
+&quot;This dream has opened my eyes, and I see what I have been doing. What
+must have papa thought of me? No wonder that he is not a Christian. I
+have wondered, too, that the children have been so indifferent to
+religious teaching, but the influence of my life has spoiled everything.
+But, thank God! the present is mine, my dear ones are spared to me, and
+henceforth I will strive to have my life count for Christ.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When the children came that night they looked in wonder at their sister.
+There was a smile on her face, and her voice was gentle when she spoke
+to them. The tea-table was neatly spread and Fred saw his favorite hot
+rolls. Presently Mr. Melvin came in, somewhat timidly, expecting as
+usual to hear complaints and impatient exclamations from Maude. Instead,
+she greeted him pleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tired, father? Supper's ready. I've made some of the toast you like and
+opened a can of peaches.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you are very tired, Maude,&quot; said Mr. Melvin, looking
+wonderingly at his daughter.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I'm a little tired, father, but I'm thankful for the privilege of
+getting tired. I have a comfortable home, and we are all in good health.
+You see, father, I am beginning to count my blessings. I have been a
+fault-finding, ungrateful girl, and have made you all unhappy; but I
+hope to make some amends for the past.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God bless you, my daughter!&quot; said John Melvin, huskily.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+
+<a name="202"></a><center>
+<img src="images/202.gif" width="807" height="393" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="dutypleasure"></a><h2>DUTY AND PLEASURE</h2>
+
+<p>&quot;Duty first, and pleasure afterward,&quot; wrote Amy Leslie in her copy-book
+one fine morning.</p>
+
+<p>Line after line she penned, making many a mistake, for her thoughts were
+far away. At last her mother, who was sitting near her, said, &quot;Amy, this
+is the third time you have spelled pleasure without a 'p,' and left out
+the 'f' in afterward. Put down your pen and tell me what you are
+thinking about; for I am sure it is not of your copy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was only thinking,&quot; replied Amy, &quot;how glad I should be if my copy
+said, 'Pleasure first—duty afterward.' It is very hard always to have
+the disagreeable part first. I wish I could have one whole week with no
+duties at all! How I should enjoy myself!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Leslie remained silent for a moment; then she said, while a quiet
+smile played round her lips, &quot;Well, Amy, for once you shall have what
+you want. For a whole week you may amuse yourself; no duties, mind, my
+child,—none at all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is no chance of my wanting any, I assure you, mama,&quot; said Amy,
+joyfully; &quot;I shall be so happy, you'll see!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well, then,&quot; said Mrs. Leslie; &quot;you may begin to-morrow. To-day I
+shall expect you to do as usual.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Amy said no more; she finished her copy, learned her lessons, then went
+to the nursery to take charge of her little brother while the nurse was
+busy with other work. Afterward there were socks to mend, and an errand
+to run, and buttons to sew on to baby's shoes, and a letter to write.
+And so the day passed, and the next morning dawned on our
+pleasure-loving little friend.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No duties&quot; she said to herself, as she woke at seven, which was her
+usual time for rising; &quot;so I can lie in bed as long as I please.&quot; She
+turned over, and as she could not sleep, began making plans for the day,
+and thinking what a delightful time she would have. About half past nine
+she came down stairs, to find her breakfast on the table; milk, toast,
+and egg, all as cold as possible. &quot;What a wretched breakfast!&quot; she said,
+as she took her seat.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, dear,&quot; replied Mrs. Leslie, &quot;your breakfast was ready at the
+usual time, and of course is cold now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Amy said no more. She ate with only half her usual appetite, and,
+finishing in about five minutes put away her chair, and left the room.
+As she went up stairs to fetch her hat, baby in the nursery stretched
+his arms for her to take him; but she hurried past, and left the little
+fellow crying with disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>Soon she came down again, with a fairy book in one hand, and a box of
+chocolate drops in the other. The sweets had been a present, but
+hitherto her mother had allowed her to have only one or two daily; now,
+however, she might do as she liked, and at present her idea of perfect
+bliss was the combined charms of chocolate drops and fairy stories.</p>
+
+<a name="204"></a><img src="images/204.gif" width="349" height="478" align="left" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Carried it like a baby</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+
+
+<p>For about two hours she sat in the garden; then she grew tired, and a
+little sick from eating too much chocolate, and was returning to the
+house, when her pet kitten ran out to meet her. For a short time she
+amused herself by playing with it, dressing it up in her pocket
+handkerchief and carrying it like a baby; but Miss Pussy wearied of
+this, and at last jumped out of her new dress and her mistress' arms,
+leaving a scratch as a keepsake behind her.</p>
+
+<p>Altogether, the morning was hardly a successful one, nor was the
+afternoon much better. After dinner, one of Amy's little sisters tore
+her dress, and was running to Amy to ask her to mend it; but Mrs. Leslie
+said:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Don't go to your sister, my child, come to me;&quot; and little Jessie,
+wondering, let her mother darn the rent. Amy felt very uncomfortable,
+for she knew that Mrs. Leslie's eyes were not strong, and were probably
+aching with the effort of such fine work; but she shrank from offering
+her services, and made her escape from the room as soon as she could.</p>
+
+<p>In the evening she was about to draw her chair to the fire and read the
+newspaper to Mr. Leslie, a duty of which she had always felt rather
+proud; but her father gravely took the paper out of her hand, saying
+quickly, &quot;No, Amy, this is a duty; remember you are to amuse yourself
+and do nothing else.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Amy's eyes filled with tears, and she ran up stairs to her own room. She
+had no heart to read the fairy book, or to make clothes for her doll, or
+to play with the kitten, or even to eat the rest of her chocolate drops.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall never be able to bear another day of this,&quot; she said to
+herself; &quot;I thought it would be so delightful to have no duties, but
+somehow my play does not seem half so good as it did before.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The next day brought no real pleasure and comfort. Listlessly Amy
+wandered about, having no zest for any of her former amusements, and
+feeling thoroughly unhappy. She began to long for the very duties which
+had seemed so irksome to her; she could hardly keep from tears when she
+saw others busy over lessons, or her mother doing work which had
+formerly been hers.</p>
+
+<p>At last her misery ended in a fit of crying, and shutting herself up in
+her own room, she gave way to it. Sob followed sob so quickly that she
+did not hear her door open, until her mother's arms were round her, and
+her hot, aching head was pillowed on her mother's shoulder. Not a word
+passed between them for a few minutes; then Amy sobbed out, &quot;O mother!
+mother! the copy was quite right, 'Duty first, and pleasure afterward;'
+for without duty there is no pleasure at all.&quot;</p>
+
+<a name="206"></a><center>
+<img src="images/206.gif" width="398" height="424" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Her mother's arms were around her</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+
+<a name="207"></a><center>
+<img src="images/207.gif" width="796" height="568" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>Do tell us a story</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="dangerousdoor"></a><h2>THE DANGEROUS DOOR</h2>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, cousin Will, do tell us a story! There's just time before the
+school-bell rings.&quot; And Harry, Kate, Bob, and little Peace crowded about
+their older cousin until he declared himself ready to do anything they
+wished.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Very well,&quot; said Cousin Will. &quot;I will tell you about some dangerous
+doors I have seen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, that's good!&quot; exclaimed Bob. &quot;Were they all iron and heavy bars?
+And if one passed in, did they shut and keep them there forever?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; the doors I mean are pink or scarlet, and when they open you can
+see a row of little servants standing all in white, and behind them is a
+little lady dressed in crimson.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What? That's splendid!&quot; cried Kate. &quot;I should like to go in myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! it is what comes out of these doors that makes them so dangerous.
+They need a strong guard on each side, or else there is great trouble.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, what comes out?&quot; said little Peace, with wondering eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When the guards are away,&quot; said Cousin Will, &quot;I have known some things
+to come out sharper than arrows, and they make terrible wounds. Quite
+lately I saw two pretty little doors, and one opened and the little lady
+began to talk like this: 'What a stuck-up thing Lucy Waters is! And did
+you see that horrid dress made out of her sister's old one?' 'Oh, yes,'
+said the other little crimson lady from the other door, 'and what a
+turned-up nose she has!' Then poor Lucy, who was around the corner, ran
+home and cried all evening.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know what you mean,&quot; cried Kate, coloring.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Were you listening?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, you mean our mouths are doors!&quot; exclaimed Harry, &quot;and the crimson
+lady is Miss Tongue; but who are the guards, and where do they come
+from?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may ask the Great King. This is what you must say: 'Set a watch, O
+Lord, before my mouth: keep the door of my lips.' Then He will send
+Patience to stand on one side and Love on the other, and no unkind word
+will dare come out.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="209"></a>
+<center>
+<img src="images/209.gif" width="800" height="516" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="goldenwindow"></a><h2>THE GOLDEN WINDOWS</h2>
+
+
+<p>&quot;Oh dear!&quot; exclaimed Ruth impatiently, as she put the library to rights.
+&quot;I do wish we could have a new carpet this spring. I never liked this at
+all, and now it is so faded and worn it is simply dreadful. It makes me
+miserable every time I look at it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then, since you say you cannot very well have a new one just now, why
+do you look at it?&quot; asked Aunt Rachel, smiling. &quot;There are a great many
+unpleasant things in our lives—we find them every day—some of which we
+are unable to prevent. If we persist in thinking of them and keep
+fretting about them, we make ourselves and everybody about us miserable.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It seems to me we might all learn a lesson from the bees. I have read
+that when anything objectionable that they are unable to remove gets
+into a hive, they set to work immediately to cover it all over with
+wax. They just shut it up in an airtight cell, and then forget all about
+it. Isn't that a wise way for us to manage with our vexations and
+troubles?</p>
+
+<a name="210"></a>
+<img src="images/210.gif" width="267" height="159" align="left" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+
+<p>&quot;Someone sent me a postal the other day with this motto: 'The secret of
+happiness is not in doing what one likes, but in liking what one has to
+do.' It is not in having and doing just as we like, but in being
+determined to make the best of the inevitable. When you find an
+unpleasant thing in your life that cannot be removed, learn to seal it
+up and forget it.</p>
+
+<a name="211"></a><img src="images/211.gif" width="366" height="506"
+align="right" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>A lovely house with truly
+golden windows</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+
+<p>&quot;And then I think that many times it helps to get a different view of
+things. You remember the fable of the golden windows, do you not? A
+little boy who had very few pretty things in his own home because his
+parents were poor, used often to stand in his own doorway at sunset time
+and look longingly at the big house at the top of the opposite hill.
+Such a wonderful house as it was! Its windows were all of gold, which
+shone so bright that it often made his eyes blink to look at them. 'If
+only our house was as beautiful,' he would say. 'I would not mind
+wearing patched clothes and having only bread and milk for supper.'</p>
+
+
+<p>&quot;One afternoon his father told him he might do just as he pleased, so he
+trudged down the hill from his house and up the other long hill. He was
+going to see the golden windows. But when he reached the top of the
+other hill he stopped in dismay; his lips began to quiver, his eyes
+filled with tears. There were no golden windows there—nothing but
+plain, common windows like his own. 'I thought you had beautiful golden
+windows in your house,' he said to the little girl in the yard.</p>
+
+
+<p>&quot;'Oh, no!' she said; 'our windows aren't worth looking at, but stand
+beside me and you will see a lovely house with truly golden windows.
+See?' The little boy looked. 'Why, that is my house,' he said, 'and I
+never knew we had golden windows!'</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You see, much depends on your point of view.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have lived to be an old woman, my dear, and I have come to feel that
+the most heroic lives are lived by those who put their own vexations and
+troubles out of sight, and strive by every means in their power to ease
+the burden of the world; who leave always behind them the influence of a
+brave, cheery, loving spirit.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 55%;">
+
+<a name="trustalways"></a><h4>TRUST ALWAYS: NEVER FRET</h4>
+
+Trust in the Lord, and do good;<br>
+Dwell in the land, and follow after faithfulness:<br>
+Delight thyself also in the Lord;<br>
+And He shall give thee the desires of thine heart.<br>
+<br>
+Commit thy way unto the Lord,<br>
+Trust also in Him,<br>
+And He shall bring it to pass.<br>
+And He shall make thy righteousness to go forth as the light,<br>
+And thy judgment as the noonday.<br>
+<br>
+Rest in the Lord,<br>
+And wait patiently for Him:<br>
+Fret not thyself because of him who prospereth in his way,<br>
+Because of the man who bringeth wicked devices to pass.<br>
+Cease from, anger, and forsake wrath:<br>
+Fret not thyself; it tendeth only to evil-doing.<br>
+<br>
+PSALM 37:3-8.<br>
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="213"></a><center> <img src="images/213.gif" width="809"
+height="477" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;The light of the sun does us no
+good unless we are living in it!&quot;</i>]" title=""> </center>
+
+<a name="newlife"></a><h2>THE NEW LIFE</h2>
+
+<p>&quot;The light of the sun does us no good unless we are living in it! Yes,
+that is just what the minister said,&quot; mused Tim, as he tossed his
+Sabbath-school paper upon the table, and gave himself up to the flow of
+his own thoughts. &quot;Yes, he said just that, and more, too. He said that
+the life of Christ will do us little good unless we are living in it;
+that is, unless we are Christians, it makes little difference to us
+whether Christ gave His life for us or not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is on your mind, now?&quot; It was Tim's sister Ada who asked this
+question as she came running into the room upon her return from school.
+She had stopped on her way to gather violets, and that, you see, is why
+she had not reached home as soon as Tim.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I was just thinking about what the minister said last Sabbath,
+that is all,&quot; replied the lad in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, yes, what he said about people being 'born again' if they would
+live the Christ life, and that reminds me that I must write his text
+down in my text book. Let's see, it was last Christmas, wasn't it, when
+Mrs. Martin gave us those little books, and told us to write in them the
+text of every sermon we heard preached; and I am glad to say that I have
+not missed many Sabbaths since then.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Neither have I,&quot; said Tim. &quot;And do you know, I have been wondering
+whether Mrs. Martin will give her class any presents this Christmas.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, I don't know. I should think a teacher did her duty by teaching a
+Sabbath-school class fifty-two times in a year, without spending her
+money on presents for us, even if we are but four. I think it would be
+more appropriate for us to be giving her a present this year, than for
+us to be expecting one from her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And let's get up one for her,&quot; proposed Tim.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And that means that we will,&quot; laughed Ada. &quot;When you say, 'let's' in
+that tone something is always sure to happen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But we don't want to have the whole say about the presents ourselves,&quot;
+observed the boy, evidently pleased at his sister's compliment. &quot;Mark
+and Nettie haven't come by from school yet. When they do, we will call
+them in, and see what can be done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;All right, and let's watch for them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The windows facing the road were immediately taken possession of, and
+it was not long before Ada and Tim were both rapping on the panes of
+glass.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is it?&quot; shouted Mark from the road.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Come and see,&quot; replied Ada.</p>
+
+<p>Mark and Nettie, a rosy-cheeked brother and sister, were soon in the
+little sitting-room, and Ada and Tim were laying before them their plans
+for Christmas.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is just like this,&quot; said Ada; &quot;I found Tim dreaming about Christmas,
+and I just suggested that we give Mrs. Martin a Christmas present this
+year. Now what do you think of it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That would be just the thing,&quot; said Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what do you think she would want?&quot; queried Mark.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We can't tell, unless we ask her,&quot; replied Ada. &quot;But have any of us
+ever heard her say what she wanted?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have,&quot; said Tim. &quot;I have heard her say that what she wanted the most
+of anything was to have her scholars come to Christ.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I mean something that we could give her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But if we should make up our minds to be Christians, it would make her
+pleased,&quot; said Tim, &quot;and perhaps she'd rather be pleased in this way
+than to have a present.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know that she would,&quot; said Nettie; &quot;and I say, let's settle the
+question once for all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The others looked in amazement at Nettie; they could scarcely understand
+what she meant. Her face was flushed, and she was trembling with
+emotion, but one thing was certain, and that was that Nettie was in
+earnest—also Tim; and whatever Tim wanted the others to do they
+generally did.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may as well tell us what you do mean,&quot; said Mark.</p>
+
+<a name="216"></a><img src="images/216.gif" width="431" height="575" align="left" alt="[Illustration: &quot;<i>We might sign a paper</i>.&quot;]" title="">
+
+
+<p>&quot;Why, just what I said,&quot; replied Tim. &quot;I think it is about time that we
+began to think some of being Christians—that is, if what the minister
+says is true, and I suppose that it is, for everybody believes
+everything else that he says, when he has anything to say in our house
+and in the store.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should say as much,&quot; said Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But what can be done about it?&quot; queried Mark, in perplexity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We might all sign a paper, telling her what we intend to do, and give
+it to her Christmas,&quot; proposed Tim.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So we can,&quot; said Mark, &quot;and let's do it at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So Tim went to the desk, and spent a few minutes writing something upon
+a piece of paper. When he had finished, he turned around and asked;
+&quot;Want to hear it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course,&quot; answered Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>So he read: &quot;We four scholars of your class have made up our minds to be
+Christians, and we give you this information as your Christmas
+remembrance from us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Just the thing,&quot; said Ada.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I suppose that we must all sign it,&quot; suggested Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course,&quot; answered Tim.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But is this all that we must do to be Christians?&quot; queried Mark.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should say not,&quot; answered Tim, &quot;but if Mrs. Martin knows that we are
+in earnest, she will tell us what to do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So the paper was signed by the four, after which Mark and Nettie
+continued on their way homeward.</p>
+
+<p>On the Sabbath following Christmas, after the class had gathered, and
+were waiting for Sabbath-school to begin in the little church on the
+hill, Tim passed to Mrs. Martin an envelope bearing her name. When she
+opened it and read the note that was within, her eyes filled with tears
+of joy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, my precious class! My precious class!&quot; This was all she could say,
+as she looked from one to another with face shining like an angel's.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We thought that you'd tell us just what to do,&quot; began Ada. &quot;We felt
+that we needed help from you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you shall have it this very hour. We will let the lesson go
+to-day, and just have a little meeting all to ourselves.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That will be just beautiful!&quot; exclaimed Nettie.</p>
+
+<p>While the other classes in the church were discussing the lesson for the
+day, Mrs. Martin's class in the pew in the rear were settling the great
+question of their lives.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Martin began by telling them the story of the Christ—how Christ
+left His heavenly home, and came to earth to die for all men, since all
+are sinners; and how all may be saved from sin by being sorry for their
+wrong-doing, deciding to lead a right life, and taking Him as their
+personal Saviour. &quot;Is this what you all believe?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is,&quot; replied the class, softly.</p>
+
+<p>Then all closed their eyes, and Mrs. Martin prayed softly for them,
+after which each prayed for pardon, and by the time Sabbath-school was
+dismissed, all felt that Christ had accepted them as His very own.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Oh, how I shall prize this little note,&quot; said Mrs. Martin, as they were
+leaving the church for home. &quot;You could not have given me a Christmas
+remembrance which would have meant more to me. And I am sure that I am
+not the only one you have remembered this day—you have given yourselves
+to Christ, who died and arose from the grave for you, and He will
+treasure the Christmas gift you have given Him more than I can the one
+you have given me.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="219"></a><center>
+<img src="images/219.gif" width="798" height="417" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+<br>
+
+<a name="impossibleyesterday"></a><h2>THE IMPOSSIBLE YESTERDAY</h2>
+<br>
+<a name="220"></a><img src="images/220.gif" width="309" height="448" align="left" alt="[Illustration: <i>&quot;I can't make yesterday over again.&quot;</i>]" title="">
+
+
+<p>She was a tiny girl, playing by herself in a wide, grassy yard. The
+older children had gone to school, but she, too young for that, was
+busying herself with putting in order a playhouse in an arbor—arranging
+it as nearly as possible as it had been the day before, when she and two
+or three little mates had enjoyed such a merry time there. To and fro
+trudged the tireless feet, patiently the small hands worked, and at last
+all was complete. Then the young worker looked about her, and slowly a
+shadow of disappointment crept over the face that had been so eager.
+Something was lacking. Everything was in the remembered order, but it
+did not seem the same. She studied it for a minute or two, then walked
+away and sat down on a sunny doorstep. The mother found her there a
+little later, a listless, quiet little figure.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you tired of your playhouse already, dear?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>The childish eyes were uplifted with a look of wistful wonder in them,
+and the answer came slowly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can't do it—I can't make yesterday over again.&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p>It was the hopeless task that in one form or another we all undertake,
+and with which many darken their whole lives because they will not learn
+that it is an impossible one. Yesterday's roses died with the day,
+yesterday's manna was only for yesterday's need, but there are new
+flowers and new food for to-day from the same gracious hand that
+bestowed the other, if only we will go cheerfully and trustingly
+forward. The treasures and pleasures we have had are for memory and
+thanksgiving, but the moment we sit down beside them to grieve or to try
+to reconstruct them out of their ruins we have changed them from a
+blessing to a hindrance. We cannot make yesterday over again.</p>
+
+<br>
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+
+<a name="221"></a><center>
+<img src="images/221.gif" width="815" height="429" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="childpuzzle"></a><h2>A CHILD'S PUZZLE</h2>
+
+
+<p>Meg had been playing in the garden all the morning, and when mama called
+her in she had earth on her hands, and smuts on her face, and she looked
+such a grubby little thing.</p>
+
+<p>Mama smiled. &quot;You have been having a good time, Meg,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>And she put a tin bason with some soap and warm water in it on a
+chair where Meg could reach.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, then, wash your hands and face, dear. Dada will soon be in for
+dinner.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Meg pouted. &quot;I don't want to wash,&quot; she said. &quot;I am not dirty.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mama waited a little, but when she saw that Meg did not begin to wash,
+she said, quite gravely:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You cannot sit at the table, as you are, dear. If you do not wash, then
+you must go without your dinner.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Meg stood a minute, then, as she saw that mama was quite firm, she put
+her hands into the water and began to wash and scrub them.</p>
+
+<p>Lucy is older than Meg, and she had looked on all the time to see what
+Meg would do. When Lucy saw her begin to wash and be good, she
+said:—</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why is it, mama, that you and dada can do just as you like about
+everything, but we children have to do as you tell us all the time? I
+don't think it is fair. I wish we could do as we like, too.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mania did not speak for a moment. In her heart she said, &quot;Lord help me
+to make this plain to my little girls.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did Meg have to wash?&quot; she asked them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; said Lucy. &quot;If not, she would have to—&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bear the punishment,&quot; said mama. &quot;You say, Lucy, that dada and I do
+just what we choose, and that is quite true. But if we choose to do
+wrong, then we have to be punished too, and the punishment is far worse
+than any that dada or I can give you, for it comes from God.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Little children do not always know right from wrong, so in order to
+help them and make right easy, God gives them parents and teachers to
+praise them when they are good&quot;—and here mama laid her hand on Meg's
+head—&quot;or else to punish them when they are naughty.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My two little girls may do just as they choose, as long as they choose
+to do what is right, and then when they are big and there is no mama to
+tell them all the time what to do, I hope they will do right of
+themselves.&quot;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;">
+<a name="223"></a><center>
+<img src="images/223.gif" width="813" height="366" alt="[Illustration]" title="">
+</center>
+
+<a name="shewassorry"></a><h2>HOW ONE GIRL SHOWED THAT SHE WAS SORRY</h2>
+
+
+
+<p>In a little village lived a poor old woman with a pretty granddaughter.
+One day the aged woman went out without her crutch, but her
+granddaughter was near to serve her as a support. It continued thus for
+a long time. To the promenade, to church, or market, the good old
+grandame no longer used her crutch, but leaned on her granddaughter.
+There was much prattling about this in the village, and all wondered. At
+last they found out the cause. The granddaughter, in a fit of passion,
+threw her grandmother's crutch in the fire, and the old woman was too
+poor to buy another. The hasty girl cried and repented, and the frail
+old woman pardoned her; but, to make reparation, her grandchild never
+quitted her for an instant, and served as a faithful crutch, till she
+saved up money enough to buy a substantial new crutch, on which were
+these words, &quot;Repentance and restoration.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr class="full" noshade>
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13126 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/13126-h/images/001.gif b/13126-h/images/001.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7918839
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/001.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/002.gif b/13126-h/images/002.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..25a7c72
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/002.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/006.gif b/13126-h/images/006.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..61ed05b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/006.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/008.gif b/13126-h/images/008.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6793307
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/008.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/009.gif b/13126-h/images/009.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c8748e1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/009.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/011.gif b/13126-h/images/011.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6c3fa0d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/011.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/012.gif b/13126-h/images/012.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..105ef53
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/012.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/014.gif b/13126-h/images/014.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..408a84c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/014.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/017.gif b/13126-h/images/017.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5c85d28
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/017.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/018.gif b/13126-h/images/018.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..da24989
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/018.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/021.gif b/13126-h/images/021.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0fb3b8c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/021.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/022.gif b/13126-h/images/022.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bbca8e5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/022.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/023.gif b/13126-h/images/023.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6d15dd5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/023.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/027.gif b/13126-h/images/027.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..01cb94f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/027.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/029.gif b/13126-h/images/029.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e2f6a06
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/029.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/030.gif b/13126-h/images/030.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d8c4395
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/030.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/031.gif b/13126-h/images/031.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8358574
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/031.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/034.gif b/13126-h/images/034.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bbc07d0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/034.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/037.gif b/13126-h/images/037.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..31231f6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/037.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/040.gif b/13126-h/images/040.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6677ec2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/040.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/041.gif b/13126-h/images/041.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e10242f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/041.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/042.gif b/13126-h/images/042.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5164a50
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/042.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/044.gif b/13126-h/images/044.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c25c63d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/044.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/045.gif b/13126-h/images/045.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..caabba4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/045.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/046.gif b/13126-h/images/046.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2218551
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/046.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/049.gif b/13126-h/images/049.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4ab9e40
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/049.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/051.gif b/13126-h/images/051.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..58cde7e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/051.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/052.gif b/13126-h/images/052.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..77588b2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/052.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/054.gif b/13126-h/images/054.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f129b04
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/054.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/055.gif b/13126-h/images/055.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..379a68c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/055.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/057.gif b/13126-h/images/057.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f936494
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/057.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/062.gif b/13126-h/images/062.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4d65483
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/062.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/065.gif b/13126-h/images/065.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f527c43
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/065.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/067.gif b/13126-h/images/067.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b972900
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/067.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/069.gif b/13126-h/images/069.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..25b96d2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/069.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/071.gif b/13126-h/images/071.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..31ea061
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/071.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/073.gif b/13126-h/images/073.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e1d5583
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/073.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/076.gif b/13126-h/images/076.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6479fc1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/076.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/077.gif b/13126-h/images/077.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..47596d6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/077.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/081.gif b/13126-h/images/081.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..527c22d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/081.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/082.gif b/13126-h/images/082.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e6a2269
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/082.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/084.gif b/13126-h/images/084.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..42d205f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/084.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/086.gif b/13126-h/images/086.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8bbffeb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/086.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/087.gif b/13126-h/images/087.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2700b0c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/087.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/090.gif b/13126-h/images/090.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4061a02
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/090.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/092.gif b/13126-h/images/092.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8259a1a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/092.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/093.gif b/13126-h/images/093.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..50fbc97
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/093.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/097.gif b/13126-h/images/097.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cce07b4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/097.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/099.gif b/13126-h/images/099.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..171a1fd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/099.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/102.gif b/13126-h/images/102.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..69a9473
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/102.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/104.gif b/13126-h/images/104.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0e3a3a7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/104.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/108.gif b/13126-h/images/108.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2aa9f10
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/108.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/109.gif b/13126-h/images/109.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..039c4f1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/109.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/110.gif b/13126-h/images/110.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db10b65
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/110.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/114.gif b/13126-h/images/114.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..45fa338
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/114.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/117.gif b/13126-h/images/117.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..254bc2d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/117.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/119.gif b/13126-h/images/119.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..33bbc4a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/119.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/120.gif b/13126-h/images/120.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e625190
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/120.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/121.gif b/13126-h/images/121.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a97d316
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/121.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/122.gif b/13126-h/images/122.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d1c9bef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/122.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/123.gif b/13126-h/images/123.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ea06140
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/123.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/125.gif b/13126-h/images/125.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8550b84
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/125.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/126.gif b/13126-h/images/126.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3d621d6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/126.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/128.gif b/13126-h/images/128.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..66435b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/128.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/129.gif b/13126-h/images/129.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d63fcaf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/129.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/130.gif b/13126-h/images/130.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..52ee3b8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/130.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/131.gif b/13126-h/images/131.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df8e703
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/131.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/133.gif b/13126-h/images/133.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cd5b0e3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/133.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/135.gif b/13126-h/images/135.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3dd40c1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/135.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/138.gif b/13126-h/images/138.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5aa5d94
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/138.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/139.gif b/13126-h/images/139.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d80997d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/139.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/140.gif b/13126-h/images/140.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4455707
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/140.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/141.gif b/13126-h/images/141.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..efd97ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/141.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/144.gif b/13126-h/images/144.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..99b7e4a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/144.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/145.gif b/13126-h/images/145.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eed51f2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/145.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/146.gif b/13126-h/images/146.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..de8d8e8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/146.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/148.gif b/13126-h/images/148.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..80b17a2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/148.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/149.gif b/13126-h/images/149.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ae585ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/149.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/151.gif b/13126-h/images/151.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..02c5cbd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/151.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/153.gif b/13126-h/images/153.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5c2ff95
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/153.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/155.gif b/13126-h/images/155.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..af5852c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/155.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/157.gif b/13126-h/images/157.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fee19f0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/157.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/159.gif b/13126-h/images/159.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e418b04
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/159.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/161.gif b/13126-h/images/161.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..79118cd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/161.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/164.gif b/13126-h/images/164.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3f1fca3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/164.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/165.gif b/13126-h/images/165.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ccbf33a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/165.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/169.gif b/13126-h/images/169.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2c88dc9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/169.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/171.gif b/13126-h/images/171.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7da076d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/171.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/173.gif b/13126-h/images/173.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..65cbc21
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/173.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/177.gif b/13126-h/images/177.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9da1d65
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/177.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/183.gif b/13126-h/images/183.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e05bac2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/183.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/185.gif b/13126-h/images/185.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..25f5473
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/185.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/188.gif b/13126-h/images/188.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d3945b6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/188.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/189a.gif b/13126-h/images/189a.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..041b318
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/189a.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/189b.gif b/13126-h/images/189b.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..129dca6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/189b.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/190a.gif b/13126-h/images/190a.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a2d591d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/190a.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/190b.gif b/13126-h/images/190b.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8b8016b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/190b.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/191a.gif b/13126-h/images/191a.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7870f5b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/191a.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/191b.gif b/13126-h/images/191b.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c49cec1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/191b.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/192.gif b/13126-h/images/192.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e7227f3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/192.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/194.gif b/13126-h/images/194.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2af123b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/194.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/195.gif b/13126-h/images/195.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..26dcfbe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/195.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/199.gif b/13126-h/images/199.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..43c5cb9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/199.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/200.gif b/13126-h/images/200.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..516b61c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/200.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/202.gif b/13126-h/images/202.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4667b69
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/202.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/204.gif b/13126-h/images/204.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b4a9e2d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/204.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/206.gif b/13126-h/images/206.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..70963e5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/206.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/207.gif b/13126-h/images/207.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c6e4b02
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/207.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/209.gif b/13126-h/images/209.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f7c098
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/209.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/210.gif b/13126-h/images/210.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d2bc7a2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/210.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/211.gif b/13126-h/images/211.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..12a9795
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/211.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/213.gif b/13126-h/images/213.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..190e1c1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/213.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/216.gif b/13126-h/images/216.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f5ca211
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/216.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/219.gif b/13126-h/images/219.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cbabd11
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/219.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/220.gif b/13126-h/images/220.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eecfe52
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/220.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/221.gif b/13126-h/images/221.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..acf2882
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/221.gif
Binary files differ
diff --git a/13126-h/images/223.gif b/13126-h/images/223.gif
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6d94a82
--- /dev/null
+++ b/13126-h/images/223.gif
Binary files differ