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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>"WORDS FITLY SPOKEN"</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>"I wish I were a princess!"</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>"Why, my child?" asked her mother.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But it is never necessary for princesses to work."</p> + +<p>"There my little girl proves her ignorance. If she will come to me after +her work is done, I will show her a picture."</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>"What do you see, my child?" her mother asked, as she laid the picture +before her daughter.</p> + +<p>"I see a young girl with her dress fastened up, an apron on, and a broom +in her hand."</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me what kind of place she is in?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<a name="page8"></a><p>"No, it is not. It is a prison, and the young girl is a king's +daughter."</p> + +<p>"A king's daughter!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and her story is a very sad one."</p> + +<p>"Please tell me about her."</p> + +<p>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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:—"'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>"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>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Is that a true story?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Emma, every word of it; and there is much, much more that I cannot +tell you now."</p> + +<p>"What became of her at last?"</p> + +<p>"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>"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."</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>"A sudden dash of rain had +driven the child there for shelter."</i>]" title=""> + + +<p>The child found ready entrance to the lonely heart; children will, you +know, they are so "queer," as wise old heads sometimes affirm.</p> + +<p>"What in the world makes you visit that old hermit?" said Eliza Ray, +her schoolmate, one morning. "Bridget, our hired girl, says she is sure +such a looking old hag must be a witch."</p> + +<p>"Witch or not, I like her;" 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>"Good morning, Aunt Ruth. It has been ever so long since I have been +here, hasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a long time for a lonesome old body like me; but this is no place +for the young and happy, I know."</p> + +<p>"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"—and the chubby face +sobered.</p> + +<p>"What is it, child?" 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>"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;" tears rolling down her +face.</p> + +<p>"Going away, my little girl going off?" said Aunt Ruth seriously.</p> + +<p>"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;" tears flowing afresh. +"I let Amy Wells have my kitten, but I haven't found a place for my poor +little rose. See," said Bessie, going to the table and removing the +wrapper from her parcel, "isn't it a beauty? You will keep it to +remember me by, and take care of it always, won't you, Aunt Ruth?"</p> + +<p>The little blossoms were out in full, and seemed to smile a benediction +upon the old woman.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, child, I will keep your rose; no harm shall come to it." The +little plant seemed to carry her thoughts away, for she began talking +absently to herself, then recalling her musings she said:—"So you are +going away; and you'll forget all about poor Aunt Ruth with so many new +friends. Well, well, it's natural."</p> + +<a name="017"></a><img src="images/017.gif" width="314" height="416" +align="left" alt="[Illustration: "Yes, child, I will keep your +rose."]" title=""> + + +<p>"No, no, indeed I shall not," said Bessie, giving her a hearty hug, "and +sometime I will come to see you." 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>"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."</p> + +<a name="018"></a><center> <img src="images/018.gif" width="427" +height="346" alt="[Illustration: "It never looked quite so dirty +before."]" 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. "Bless me! it never +looked quite so dirty before;" 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>"Plunged in a gulf of dark despair."</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>"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."</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. "This +isn't the place. Aunt Ruth must have moved away." 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: "Aunt Ruth must have moved +away."]" title=""> </center> + + +<a name="022"></a><img src="images/022.gif" width="303" height="469" +align="right" alt="[Illustration: "Bessie sprang into the woman's +arms."]" title=""> + + +<p>"Can you tell me where Aunt Ruth Jones has gone that used to"—Bessie +stopped, and with one bound sprang into the woman's arms, for it was +Aunt Ruth herself.</p> + +<p>"It is so beautiful here! how did it all happen?" 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>"I think it was a shame," said Marcia Lewis, "for her to make me face +the corner for an hour, just because I spoke half a dozen words to +Nellie Jones."</p> + +<p>"I think so, too," chimed in a half a dozen other voices.</p> + +<p>"She delights in showing her authority," said Lottie Barnes.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! let's do it! Yes! yes!" 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>"Girls! girls!" said Miss Capron sternly; "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."</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>"The very spirit of mischief seems to have made headquarters here this +afternoon," said Miss Capron. "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."</p> + +<p>The girls felt some little twinges of conscience, but, after all, were +quite delighted with the success of their experiment.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what it is," said Marcia Lewis, "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."</p> + +<p>"Would'nt it be grand," said Nellie Jones.</p> + +<p>"Splendid," replied Mattie Lee.</p> + +<p>"Why! what is the matter?" 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>"Poor Miss Capron! How could you treat her so!"</p> + +<p>"It is just what she deserves for being so cross," said Lottie Barnes.</p> + +<p>"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>"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>"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."</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: "She felt compelled to call her scholars."]" 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, "It's smile all the time."</p> + +<p>Before Miss Capron dismissed the school at night, she said:—</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Instantly she was surrounded by all the girls and showered with kisses.</p> + +<p>"We have been very wicked," said Marcia Lewis, "and it is not your fault +at all."</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, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for +they shall be called the children of God."</p> + +<p>"Well, my dears," she added, "which was best, looking for frowns or for +smiles?"</p> + +<p>"O, the smiles," said they all together.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>And each voice responded, "We will overlook the bad, and seek only for +what is good in those around us."</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>"Well, Bessie," said the old lady, laying her hand lovingly on the +child's sunny ringlets, "have you had a good slide?"</p> + +<p>"Beautiful, Aunt Ruth; and now won't you tell me one of your nice +stories?"</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>"A liar shall not stand in my sight," 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>"Get your rocking-chair, dear, and come close beside me;" and in a +moment the child's blue eyes were upturned to hers.</p> + +<p>"I am old now, Bessie," and she tenderly stroked that fair brow, "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>"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>"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>"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>"'No ma'am, I said <i>l-i-e-v-e</i>,'</p> + +<p>"Miss R——, still in doubt, looking at me, inquired, 'You heard, Ruth; +how was it?'</p> + +<p>"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>"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>"'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>"I had triumphed, Bessie; Amy was disgraced, and I stood proudly at the +head of my class, but I was not happy.</p> + +<p>"When school was dismissed, I pretended to have lost something, and +lingered in the hall. I heard the teacher say,—</p> + +<p>"'Amy, come here,' and then I caught the light footsteps of the gentle +child.</p> + +<p>"'How could you tell that lie?'</p> + +<p>"'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>"'Hold out your hand.'</p> + +<p>"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>"Miss R—- I did not tell a lie."</i>]" title=""> + + +<p>"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>"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>"'I thank you, Ruth.'</p> + +<p>"It made my guilty heart beat faster, but I would not speak; so we went +on silently together.</p> + +<p>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"'Oh, make her a truthful, holy child!'</p> + +<p>"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>"My agony became every moment more intense, till at length, I rushed, +almost in terror, to my father's bedside.</p> + +<p>"'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>"'Dear father,' said I, 'will you go with me to-night to see poor Amy?'</p> + +<p>"He answered, 'To-morrow morning, my child.'</p> + +<a name="037"></a><center> +<img src="images/037.gif" width="561" height="364" alt="[Illustration: "Dear Father, will you go with me to-night to see poor +Amy?"]" title=""> +</center> + + +<p>"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>"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>"'I will go with you, my child.'</p> + +<p>"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>"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>"'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>"'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>"Bessie, may you never know how his words pierced my heart!</p> + +<p>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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>"My head swam, as I read, lettered so carefully on the white tablet:—</p> + +<p>"'AMY SINCLAIR, <i>Fell asleep September third.'</i></p> + +<p>"Beside that fresh turf I knelt down, and offered, as I trust, the +prayer of faith. I was there relieved, and strengthened too, Bessie," +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>"Pray for me!" 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>"Would you like another chapter, Lilian dear?" asked Kate Everard of the +invalid cousin whom she had lately come from Hampshire to nurse.</p> + +<p>"Not now, thanks; my head is tired," 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>"There must be something wrong here," thought Kate, who had never during +her life kept her bed for one day through sickness. "It is a sad thing +when the dying do not prize the word of God."</p> + +<p>"Lilian," said she, trying to soften her naturally quick, sharp tones +to gentleness, "I should think that now, when you are so ill, you would +find special comfort in the Scriptures."</p> + +<p>Lilian's languid eyes had closed, but she opened them, and fixing her +soft, earnest gaze upon her cousin, replied, "I do—they are my support; +I have been feeding on one verse all the morning."</p> + +<p>"And what is that verse?" asked Kate.</p> + +<p>"'Whom I shall see for myself,'" 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: "Whom I shall see for +myself."]" title=""> + +<p>"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.'"</p> + +<p>"What do you understand by the expression 'not another'?" asked Lilian.</p> + +<p>"Really, I have never particularly considered those words," answered +Kate. "Have you found out any remarkable meaning in them?"</p> + +<p>"They were a difficulty to me," replied the invalid, "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."</p> + +<p>"I never look at the marginal references," said Kate, "though mine is a +large Bible and has them."</p> + +<p>"I find them such a help in comparing Scripture with Scripture," +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 "mark, learn, and inwardly digest +it," she had never even thought of trying to do. In a more humble tone +she now asked her cousin, "What is the word which is put in the margin +of the Bible instead of 'another' in that difficult text?"</p> + +<p>"<i>A stranger</i>" replied Lilian; and then, clasping her hands, she +repeated the whole passage on which her soul had been feeding with +silent delight:</p> + +<p>"'Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and <i>not a +stranger</i>.'</p> + +<p>"O Kate," continued the dying girl, while unbidden tears rose to her +eyes, "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>"Oh," continued Lilian, "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."</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>"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," +reflected Kate. "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."</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>"Who was that quiet appearing girl that came into church quite late, +last Sabbath?" I asked a friend of mine who was an active member in +the church which I had recently joined.</p> + +<p>"Did she wear a striped shawl and a dark dress?" inquired my friend. "If +so, it was Annie Linton, a girl who is a seamstress in Mr. Brown's +shop."</p> + +<p>"I did not notice her clothes in particular," I answered, "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."</p> + +<p>"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," 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>"Mamma, I want you to tell me something."</p> + +<p>"Well, dear, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Not any at all?" questioned the mother. "Is that really so?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no, not quite, I suppose," said Jennie, "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>"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>"Now just think, mamma," said Jennie, her blue eyes opening widely as +she spoke, "Susy Chrystie saved her little sister's life; wasn't that a +splendid, big something to do?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<a name="051"></a><center> +<img src="images/051.gif" width="529" height="260" alt="[Illustration: "<i>Susy Chrystie saved her little sister's life</i>."]" title=""> +</center> + + +<p>"But, mamma, you know that nothing ever does happen to me; and besides, +I haven't any little sister or brother."</p> + +<p>"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."</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: "<i>He pulled Jennie's hair with +all his might</i>."]" 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, "Indade, thin, Miss Jennie, it's a wonder ye don't just +shlap his hands!" she would answer gravely, "Oh, no, he's so much +littler than I am."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"But Willie is sound asleep, mamma, he doesn't want me," said Jennie, +who was anxious to stay out of doors.</p> + +<p>"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."</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: "<i>A small flame burst out from the +rug</i>."]" title=""> + +<p>Her conscience was so disagreeable, too, for it would keep saying all +the time, "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?" How tiresome +it all was, and how she wished she could "just do as she liked!"</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 "What shall I do?" was followed by the remembrance +of what her mother had often said, "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."</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: "<i>She piled on the blankets and +sat on them</i>."]" 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, "May God bless you, my thoughtful little niece, for you have +saved your cousin's life to-day!"</p> + +<p>"Why, did I really?" thought Jennie; "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!"</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, "I will never +fight with conscience again, for if I had had my own way, I could never +have saved poor Willie's life."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"Of course not, my daughter," said Mrs. Jones; "the feeling of having +been rudely treated is always uncomfortable. What do you suppose is the +reason you are not included in the party?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"It is not pleasant, to be sure, Anna; but think again, darling, before +you say you <i>can not</i> bear it."</p> + +<p>"Well, mother, who could? Nobody but you, who seem to have a way of +getting round hard places, or walking through them."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"My precious one," said Mrs. Jones, "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."</p> + +<p>"But, mother, haven't we a right to feel hurt when we are wronged or +slighted—I mean personally hurt?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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>"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>"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."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean, mother, that we should never seek people for their own +sake or our own pleasure?"</p> + +<p>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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>"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."</p> + +<a name="062"></a><img src="images/062.gif" width="258" height="347" align="right" alt="[Illustration: <i>"Well, Anna, have you come to a conclusion?"</i>]" title=""> + + +<p>"Well, Anna," said Mrs. Jones the next day, "have you come to a +conclusion?"</p> + +<p>"Really, mother," said Anna, "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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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>"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."</p> + +<p>"And so, mother, it saves a great many uncomfortable feelings to be a +Christian."</p> + +<p>"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>"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>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + + +<p>"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."</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>"Well," said Bessie, very emphatically, "I think Russel Morton is the +best boy there is, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Why so, pet?" I asked, settling myself in the midst of the busy group +gathered around in the firelight.</p> + +<p>"I can tell," interrupted Wilfred, "Bessie likes Russ because he is so +polite."</p> + +<p>"I don't care, you may laugh," said frank little Bess; "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."</p> + +<p>"Bessie wants company manners all of the time," said Wilfred. And Bell +added: "We should all act grown up, if we wanted to suit her."</p> + +<p>Dauntless Bessie made haste to retort. "Well, if growing up would make +some folks more agreeable, it's a pity we can't hurry about it."</p> + +<p>"Wilfred, what are company manners?" I questioned from the depths of my +easy chair.</p> + +<p>"Why—why—they're—it's <i>behaving</i>, you know, when folks are here, or +we go a visiting."</p> + +<p>"Company manners are good manners;" said Horace.</p> + +<p>"O yes," answered I, meditating on it. "I see; manners that are <i>too</i> +good—for mamma—but just right for Mrs. Jones."</p> + +<p>"That's it," cried Bess.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"O my! no indeed," chorused the voices.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh! that's very different."</p> + +<p>"And mamma knows we mean all right. Besides, you are not fair, cousin; +we were talking about boys and girls—not grown up people."</p> + +<p>Thus my little audience assailed me, and I was forced to a change of +base.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course; if you'd have a fellow give up all fun," said Wilfred.</p> + +<p>"My dear boy," said I, "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>"It is Burke who brings a glass of water."</i>]" title=""> + + +<p>"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>"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>"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."</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, "I have been there, I met +so-and-so. Such and such remarks were made, and this or that was done," +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>"Who is she?"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't say. She is a stranger here, I think."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No one would if they were not very poor. Of course you can tell by the +girl's clothes that she is poor."</p> + +<p>"Come on, girls, never mind talking about her," said one of the number +impatiently. "What difference does it make to us who she is? We will be +late," 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>"It is hard to be so alone," she murmured, "but I must not let mamma +know."</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>"Do you know, Mabel, I can not help thinking of that girl we met this +morning."</p> + +<p>"What girl?" asked Mabel Willis, with a slightly puzzled air.</p> + +<p>"Why, the one that Margaret said lived in the little cottage you know."</p> + +<p>"O yes. What about her?"</p> + +<p>"Why she looked at us so wistfully, and I never see her with anyone; she +must be lonely."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"You know what the Bible says," slowly: "'I was a stranger and ye took +Me not in.' This girl is a stranger and don't you think we might apply +that?"</p> + +<p>"Just what are you thinking of, Nellie?"</p> + +<p>"I was thinking that we might call on her and ask her to join our +Sabbath school class, and that might open the way."</p> + +<p>Mabel laughed. "You always were a regular missionary, Nellie; but I +hardly believe I care to go with you," 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: "'<i>I thank you, my dear,' said the woman</i>."]" title=""> +</center> + + +<p>"My name is Nellie Ross, and I have noticed you and thought you were a +stranger here," began Nellie in the winning way that had always won her +many friends, "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."</p> + +<p>"I would like to go," the girl faltered; "but they are all such +strangers to me, and"—</p> + +<p>"That will not matter," declared Nellie. "I will come for you and will +introduce you to the rest of the girls."</p> + +<p>"I thank you, my dear," said the woman, before the girl could answer +again. "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>"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>"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," with a fond glance at her daughter.</p> + +<p>"Of course, I shall be contented mamma," replied Edna.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure she will like the Sabbath school very much," said Nellie, +earnestly, "and I will come for her to-morrow."</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>"Really," cried one of them as soon as they were dismissed, "you must +join our young people's choir, will you? We do need an alto so badly."</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;">* * * * *</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;">* * * * *</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;">* * * * *</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: "<i>You were not here yesterday</i>."]" title=""> +</center> +<br> + +<a name="littlesisters"></a><h2>THE LITTLE SISTERS</h2> + + +<p>"You were not here yesterday," 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>"No, ma'am, I was not, but sister Nelly was."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"It was not because I didn't want to," was the earnest answer, and then +she paused and the deep flush again tinged her fair brow; "but," she +continued after a moment of painful embarrassment, "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."</p> + +<p>"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>"You would better go out and take the air a few moments; you have +studied very hard to-day," 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>"The teacher sat down beside her and explained the +rule."</i>]" title=""> + + +<p>"I would rather not,—I might tear my dress,—I will stand by the window +and watch the rest." 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. "She is a thoughtful little girl," said she +to herself, "and does not want to made her mother any trouble. I wish I +had more such scholars."</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, "I might tear my dress."</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>"After this week sister Nelly is coming to school every day, and oh, I +am so glad!"</p> + +<p>"That is very good news," replied the teacher kindly. "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."</p> + +<p>Then she continued, a little good-natured mischief in her eyes,—"But +can your mother spare you both conveniently?"</p> + +<p>"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." +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>"Oh, I did feel so bad when school opened and Nelly could not go, +because she had no dress," said Mary. "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>"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>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I am," 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>"I am coming to school every day, and oh, I am so glad!"</p> + +<p>The teacher felt as she had never done before, that it is "more blessed +to give than to receive." 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>"Nellie entered the schoolroom with her sister."</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."</p> + +<p>"Why can not you find it, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"If you do not choose to lend me yours, I can borrow of somebody else."</p> + +<p>"I am willing to lend it to you, Mary. Here it is."</p> + +<p>"I knew you would let me have it."</p> + +<p>"Why do you always come to me to borrow when you have lost anything, +Mary?"</p> + +<p>"Because you never lose your things, and always know where to find +them."</p> + +<p>"How do you suppose I always know where to find my things?"</p> + +<p>"I am sure I cannot tell. If I knew, I might, perhaps, sometimes +contrive to find my own."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Yes, just as though your life depended upon it."</p> + +<p>"My life does not depend upon it, Mary, but my convenience does very +much."</p> + +<p>"Well, I never can find time to put my things away."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll never borrow of you again, you may depend on it."</p> + +<p>"Why? you are not offended, Mary, I hope!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.'"</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: "<i>What I can't tell mother, is not +fit for me to know</i>."]" 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>"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," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"I won't tell any one but my mother," replied Kate. "I tell her +everything, for she is my best friend."</p> + +<p>"No, not even your mother, no one in the world."</p> + +<p>"Well, then I can't hear it; for what I can't tell mother, is not fit +for me to know."</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>"<i>What I cannot tell my mother is unfit for me to know."</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>"Oh, girls! I shall just die, I know I shall!" 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>"What is it, you provoking thing! Why don't you tell us, so we can laugh +too?"</p> + +<p>"Well—you—see," she gasped out at last, "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>"'Are you Madam Gazin?' she asked.</p> + +<p>"'Yes,' replied the teacher, 'that is my name.'</p> + +<p>"'Well, I've come to stay a year at your school.'</p> + +<p>[Illustration: "<i>That is just the amount, I believe</i>."]</p> + +<p>"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>"That is just the amount, I believe; will you please give me a receipt +for it?'</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Well, what was there so funny about all that?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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: "That is just the amount, I believe</i>."]" 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: "<i>She begged piteously to be released</i>."]" title=""> +</center> + + +<p>"I believe she has fainted," said Belle.</p> + +<p>"What shall we do?" 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>"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."</p> + +<p>"And you are only fifteen now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"How did you get money enough to pay for a year's board and tuition +here?"</p> + +<a name="093"></a><center> <img src="images/093.gif" width="542" +height="443" alt="[Illustration: "<i>I used to fix a book open on my +loom</i>."]" title=""> </center> + + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Poor child!"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, ma'am, I was very glad to do it."</p> + +<p>"But how did you keep along so well with your studies?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"What are your plans for the long vacation?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"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."</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>"My dear, the girls have planned a little surprise for you, to make the +hour as pleasant as possible."</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>"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."</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 +"peace offering" that night.</p> + +<p>The first thing she saw the next morning was a fine large trunk, and +lying upon it a card: "For Miss Fannie Comstock, from her teacher and +schoolmates." 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>"On the floor, crying like a baby."</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>"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>"JEANNETTE GAZIN."</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 "his +rights." 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: "For pity sake, +Tom, do take your hands out of your pockets," +Nell would say in her most vexing manner.</p> + +<p>"What are pockets for? I'd like to know, if not +to put one's hands in," and Tom would whistle and +march off.</p> + +<p>"Tom, I don't believe you've combed your hair +for a week!"</p> + +<p>"Well, what's the use? it would be all roughed +up again in less than an hour."</p> + +<p>"I do wish, Tom, you would take your great +boots off the window-sill!"</p> + +<p>"O don't bother me; I'm reading;" 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, "Just try my ottoman, Tom dear, +and see how comfortable it is;" 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>"I can't understand," said Sister Nell, "why you +should always want that boy at your elbow; he's +rough and awkward as a bear."</p> + +<p>"Some bears are as gentle as kittens," declared +Bess, slipping her arm through his with a loving +hug, while "the bear" felt a warm glow at his +heart as he walked away with Bess, and determined +to be "gentle as a kitten" 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, "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."</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: "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."</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, "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."</p> + +<p>Then to the porch ran Norma, crying to Gracie, excitedly: "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."</p> + +<a name="104"></a><center> +<img src="images/104.gif" width="528" height="341" alt="[Illustration: "<i>We are invited for a long automobile ride</i>."]" title=""> +</center> + +<p>"Are we to carry luncheon?" asked Gracie, lazily, not making any sign of +getting out of the hammock.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"What shall you wear?" asked Gracie, now bestirring herself a bit.</p> + +<p>"My pink lawn, I guess," replied Norma. "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."</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. "Oh, just my luck," she declared petulantly. "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." 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. "I knew you would not mind our going mamma," +Norma was saying, "so I just accepted at the moment."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed, I shall not object," said Mrs. Wilson. "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?"</p> + +<p>"I am just going to prepare some eggs this very minute," explained +Norma. "And," turning to Gracie, "won't you go after some cake and some +fruit, sister?"</p> + +<p>Gracie frowned. "I'll not have the time." she complained. "And," +appealing to her mother, "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."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilson shook her head. "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."</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: +"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."</p> + +<p>Gracie began to beg off, but her mother was firm. "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."</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>"All ready?" 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. "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."</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: "<i>Are you going to whip Eunice</i>, sir?"]" 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, "Oh, we do not want +to know what such long words mean."</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>. "P-r-i-v, priv—i, privi—l-e-g-e, +lege, privilege," 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>"Right," said the teacher; "take your place."</p> + +<p>"I spelt it so," 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, "Eunice whispered, sir."</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>"Are you going to whip Eunice, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I never break my rules!" the teacher answered.</p> + +<p>"We will not see her whipped!" said the boy in an excited voice; "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!"</p> + +<p>The master paused; the school looked on tearfully.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say you will take her punishment?" asked the teacher.</p> + +<p>"I do sir," 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> + +"Love so amazing, so divine,<br> +Demands my soul, my life, my all."<br> + + +<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;"> +<a name="114"></a><center> +<img src="images/114.gif" width="802" height="365" alt="[Illustration: "<i>I'm awake, mother, come in</i>."]" title=""> +</center> + +<a name="pattyssecret"></a><h2>PATTY'S SECRET</h2> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Lomax softly opened the nursery door and peeped in. "I'm awake, +mother," said a voice from the white cot; "come in."</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>"What wakened you so early, Patty, dear?" 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>"I had such a strange, sweet dream," said Patty, her eyes shining. "I +think it must have been my dream that waked me."</p> + +<p>"What was it, love?" But Patty was silent. "You don't want to tell me +your dream, little daughter?"</p> + +<p>"I think I'd rather not, mother, if you don't mind."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't mind."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I won't tell it."</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, "That's my +secret." 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>"Oh, mother!" she cried, "I must see that little girl; I have something +to tell her."</p> + +<p>"I'll see her for you, dear," said Mrs. Lomax, "and tell her anything +you say."</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. "Only father," she said: "I'd rather have +only father."</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: "Can I see the little girl all +by myself, father?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Lomax felt troubled at this almost stubborn secrecy. "I think not, +daughter," he said gravely; "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?"</p> + +<p>Patty hesitated a minute, and then said, "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."</p> + +<p>"Dear little girl," he said to himself. Then he answered Patty in a very +gentle voice: "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."</p> + +<a name="117"></a><center> +<img src="images/117.gif" width="436" height="318" alt="[Illustration: "<i>Will you ask for me? I don't know Him very well.</i>"]" 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>"But the night before it was to happen," said Patty, "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>"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."</p> + +<p>"And did it hurt very much?" eagerly asked the child in the cot.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Patty, looking rather puzzled, "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.'"</p> + +<p>"Will you ask for me?" said the little stranger; "I don't know Him very +well."</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: "<i>I don't believe sugar-sticks are good for little girls.</i>"]" 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>"Hello, Mopsey! where's Popsey?" 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>"Her's gone to bed," 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. "It's too bad that Popsey's +asleep," 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=""Dis for 'ou."" title=""> + + +<p>"Aren't you going to save one stick for Grace?" asked mama. Popsey's +real name was Grace.</p> + +<p>"No," said Louie, speaking low. "I don't believe sugar-sticks are good +for little girls. 'Sides, I want it myself."</p> + +<p>Just as she swallowed the last bit there came a little call from her +bedroom: "Mama?"</p> + +<p>"Hello!" said Uncle Jack, "Popsey's awake!"</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>"This is for Popsey!" 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>"Dis for 'ou," she cooed, "and dis for me!"</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>"Dis for 'ou!" repeated Popsey, cheerfully, pushing the long sugar-stick +into her hand.</p> + +<p>"Take it, Louie," said mama.</p> + +<p>And Louie took it. But a little afterward mama overheard her tell +Popsey:—</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + + + +<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;"> + +<a name="121"></a><center> +<img src="images/121.gif" width="803" height="392" alt="[Illustration: "<i>Suddenly, with a great effort, she began to sing.</i>"]" 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, "A mighty fortress is out God."</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: "<i>Here, that's mine.</i>"]" title=""> +</center> + +<a name="carrie"></a><h2>CARRIE'S MARKS</h2> +<br> + +<p>"For I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus,'" repeated Miss +Evans, slowly. "My dear girls," she said, "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?"</p> + +<p>"O Belle!" cried Jennie Day, on the way home. "Did you see Sarah Brooks +in that new silk dress? Didn't she feel grand?"</p> + +<p>"New!" returned Belle White, "I almost know it was made out of one of +her mother's old ones."</p> + +<p>"How spiteful they are," thought Carrie Maynard; "I am glad I know +better than to talk that way. Girls," she said aloud, "I think you are +forgetting very quickly what Miss Evans read about the marks. The Bible +says, 'Charity envieth not.'"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Belle angrily, "and it says, too, 'Vaunteth not itself, +is not puffed up.'"</p> + +<p>"I wonder if I am conceited, and quote only the verses that don't mean +me," said Carrie to herself. "I am sure humility must be one of the +marks;" 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. "There," thought she, "if 'cleanliness is next to godliness,' I am +sure of one mark, for mother says I am an uncommonly neat little girl."</p> + +<p>Meantime, Charlie, finding his own library book rather dull, had +commenced reading Carrie's. "Here! that's mine," she cried, trying to +snatch it.</p> + +<p>"Wait till I finish this page," he said, holding it up out of her reach.</p> + +<p>"No, I will have it now," 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, "Ye have +need of patience."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear," she sighed, "there is another mark. Now, I suppose, I must +carry this book back to Charlie, and ask his forgiveness."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry I behaved so bad, and you may take the book all the +afternoon," she whispered.</p> + +<p>Charlie stopped whistling. "Upon my word, I believe you are a Christian, +Carrie," 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>"Never mind her! Her father drinks."</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>"Come, girls and boys," called out Ned Graham, "let's play hunt the +squirrel."</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>"Come, Susie," said one of the boys, to a little girl who stood on one +side, and seemed to shrink from joining them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind <i>her!</i>" said Ned, with a little toss of his head, "she's +nobody, anyhow. Her father drinks."</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>"What is the matter, Susie?" she asked, kindly.</p> + +<a name="126"></a><img src="images/126.gif" width="261" height="481" align="left" alt="[Illustration: "<i>He said that father drinks.</i>"]" title=""> + + +<p>"Oh, mother," said Susie, with the tears dropping down her cheeks, as +she hid her face in her mother's lap, "Ned Graham said such a cruel +thing about me," and here the sobs choked her voice so that she could +hardly speak; "He said that I wasn't anybody, and that father drinks."</p> + +<p>"My poor little girl," Mrs. Ellet said, very sadly. There were tears in +her eyes, too. Such taunts as this were nothing new in that family.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother," Susie said, as she lifted her face, wet with tears, from +her mother's lap, "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?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so," Mrs. Ellet answered, as she kissed Susie's face where the +tears clung like drops of dew on a rose. "I pray that he may break off +the habit, and I can do nothing but pray, and leave the rest to God."</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>"What ails my little girl?" he asked as he patted her curly head.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you, father," she answered, slowly.</p> + +<p>"Why?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Because it would make you feel bad," Susie replied.</p> + +<p>"I guess not," he said, as they walked up to the door together. "What is +it, Susie?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father," and Susie burst into tears again as the memory of Ned +Graham's words came up freshly in her mind, "I wish you wouldn't drink +any more for the boys and girls don't like to play with me, 'cause you +do."</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>"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."</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>"God in heaven," he said very solemnly, "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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father," Susie cried, her arms about his neck, and her head upon +his breast, "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."</p> + +<p>"God helping me, I will be a <i>man!</i>" 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>"Mamma will never know," 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, "Flora, Flora, +make haste, I see some of your visitors coming in at the gate;" 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>"Blindman's Buff"</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, +"Flora, dear, you are scarcely eating anything—are you not well?" 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 "Lady's Toilet," "Hunt the Slipper," and many more such games, +winding up with "Blindman's Buff." 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. "How could I be so wicked and so greedy?" thought +Flora; "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." 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. "Well, Flora," said Mrs. +Marshall kindly, "you seem tired and out of spirits to-night; have you +come to wish me good-night?"</p> + +<a name="133"></a><img src="images/133.gif" width="276" height="441" align="left" alt="[Illustration: <i>"Here it is, Mama."</i>]" title=""> + + +<p>"O mama!" sobbed Flora, "I have come to tell you how wicked I have been, +and how very sorry and miserable I am;" and hiding her face in the folds +of her mama's dress, she told the story.</p> + +<p>"Here it is, mama," she said, drawing the orange from her pocket, "and +I think I shall never see an orange again without remembering this bad +afternoon."</p> + +<p>Very gravely, but gently, her mother spoke to her about her sin, and the +consequences it had brought upon her. "I shall not punish you, Flora," +she said; "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."</p> + +<p>"But can you forgive me mama, and believe that I will never do such a +thing again?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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: "<i>He used to chase them and threaten to cut off their ears.</i>"]" 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 "None of +yer business!" to the Sabbath school superintendent.</p> + +<p>Wee Janet was much troubled about Pete. "He'll be a dreadfully bad man," +she said to her mother, "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."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what to do, little daughter," said Wee Janet's mother. +"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."</p> + +<p>"But—but my thinker isn't strong enough," objected Wee Janet. "Besides, +that wouldn't make Pete into a different kind of a boy."</p> + +<p>"No," agreed Wee Janet's mother; "but if you could imagine Pete is +lovely, you must treat him in a different way, and it might make him +better."</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>"He just gets worse and worse," Wee Janet told her mother. "He says he +'don't care for nuthin' nor nobody,'—that's just what he said."</p> + +<p>"Well," replied Janet's mother, "there is one thing you can do, and that +is, always be polite and kind to him. 'Overcome evil with good.'"</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 +"Cry-baby."</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. "You needn't be afraid to go by the +Perkins' house this morning," she said, "because your father was told +that Pete went fishing to-day."</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>"Oh, the hooking cow!" 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: "<i>Janet screamed in +terror.</i>"]" title=""> </center> + +<p>"What's the matter, Weejan?" 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>"Come on, Weejan," called Pete. "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!"</p> + +<p>After the cow was in her pasture Pete insisted upon going to Aunt +Nancy's with Wee Janet. "Yer might see a rattler," he explained, as if +such a thing were probable.</p> + +<p>"Now I'll take yer home," the boy observed when Wee Janet found him +waiting at the gate. "Yer too little to be out alone."</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. "You see," she +explained, "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>"Sure!" 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: "<i>There was one handsome house which Bertha had often +admired.</i>"]" 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>"For Aunt Bell is such a great lady," Ada had said, "and there are no +children; so I'm afraid I shall be lonesome; and you must return my +calls."</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: "<i>O mother! here they are,</i>"]" title=""> +</center> + + +<p>"O, mother!" Bertha exclaimed, in astonishment, "here they are—Ada and +Miss Frances, and their aunt."</p> + +<p>"Go and receive them, my dear," 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. "It looks quite like old times +to see any one knitting," she said, in her low, pleasant voice. "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."</p> + +<p>"It isn't of much account," returned grandmother. "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."</p> + +<a name="145"></a><img src="images/145.gif" width="253" height="291" align="left" alt="[Illustration: <i>"It looks quite like old times to see anyone +knitting."</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>"O dear!" she exclaimed, as they went around the walk at the side of the +house; "O dear! Isn't your grandmother a funny old woman! I couldn't +keep my face sober." 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: "<i>Isn't your grandmother a funny old woman?</i>"]" title=""> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But she is real old," said Bertha, deprecatingly, "and she has lived in +the country most of her life."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"It is not right to laugh at old persons," Bertha said, summoning all +her courage; yet she was mortified and humiliated in the extreme.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"We have decided on Thursday, Ada," Mrs. Bell said to her niece; "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."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind, indeed;" and grandmother gave another little "dip +of a curtsy."</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: "She's a +tender, true-hearted Christian lady."</p> + +<a name="148"></a><img src="images/148.gif" width="278" height="527" +align="left" alt="[Illustration: "<i>I am disappointed.</i>"]" +title=""> + +<p>"Mother," said Bertha, the next day, when they were alone; "couldn't you +fix grandma up a little to go to Mrs. Bell's?"</p> + +<p>"Why, she has a nice brown silk dress to wear, and a clean cap and +kerchief."</p> + +<p>"But she looks so—so—old-fashioned, mother."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"O Bertha! you are not ashamed of dear old grandmother?" and Mrs. +Gilbert looked at her daughter in amazement. Bertha's cheeks flushed, +and tears came to her eyes.</p> + +<p>"My little daughter, I am deeply pained!"</p> + +<p>Some way the story came out, and Bertha sobbed away her mortified +feeling.</p> + +<p>"My dear Bertha!" her mother said, "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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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>"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>"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>"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>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," returned Bertha, sobbing. "Dear grandmother."</p> + +<p>"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."</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: +"What a charming old lady! I feel like envying her relatives."</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>"What made you stop right in the middle of your sentence, and then start +talking about something entirely different?" The questioner laughed, and +her friend joined as she replied to the puzzled query.</p> + +<p>"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," she explained. "So to-morrow it is +out of date, and does not get said at all."</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, "I love"—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, "To my dear—."</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>"How much did you ever make by complaining?" asked a man of his +"disgruntled" granddaughter. "Come, now, be honest with yourself, and +think it all out and see if you do not lose by grumbling."</p> + +<p>Finding fault is indeed an unprofitable occupation. It "snarls you up +inside," 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: "<i>Get away!</i>"]" title=""> +</center> + +<a name="susydiller"></a><h2>SUSY DILLER'S CHRISTMAS FEAST</h2> +<br> + +<p>"Please'm, only a penny. I'm most froze and starved!"</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>"Get away!" 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>"Poor children love to play just as well as rich children, don't they, +mama?" said grave, sweet Nellie.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And it is so nice to make them happy!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Linley gave her darling a smile.</p> + +<p>"And Christ the Lord was born for everybody," Frank added in a +reflective manner. "My teacher told me so on Sabbath,—so that all +little children might be saved, and,—have a merry Christmas."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>The sweet face was full of tender pity.</p> + +<p>"God takes care of them, like the sparrows," said Frank.</p> + +<a name="157"></a><img src="images/157.gif" width="557" height="865" align="left" alt="[Illustration: "<i>They shivered with the cold.</i>"]" 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: "<i>She came to a restaurant.</i>"]" title=""> +</center> + +<p>"Move on, move on, there!" 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, "Jennie, <i>never tell a +lie, never steal</i>."</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>"Hillo!" said a cheerful voice, and some one shook her by the shoulder. +"You'll freeze to death here! It's pinching cold! You better run home."</p> + +<p>"Lemme be. I haven't any home. And I was almost asleep. You've brought +all the old pain back."</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>"Where have you been?"</p> + +<p>"Station-houses and such," the child answered sullenly. "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—"</p> + +<a name="161"></a><img src="images/161.gif" width="279" height="719" align="right" alt="[Illustration: "<i>She sat down on a doorstep and began to cry.</i>"]" title=""> + + +<p>Susy stood considering. What would Granny say if she brought the poor +thing home? "Don't you ask another one to your Christmas party," she had +said already. "There won't be room for 'em to stand on one foot." 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>"I wish I'd been there!" said Susy bravely, "I'd a' took Him in."</p> + +<p>"Susy," replied Mr. Linley, "when we do such a thing for the very +poorest and meanest, we do it for the Lord." 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: "Lord, when saw we Thee hungry and fed Thee, +or sick and ministered unto Thee?" 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>"I thought you was going to get that nice new jacket? And you have just +money enough."</p> + +<p>"I'll wait two or three weeks for that," declared Susy. "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>"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—"</p> + +<p>It was then that Granny had said: "Don't ask another one. There won't be +room enough for 'em to stand on one foot."</p> + +<p>"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!"</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>"Come along," said Susy to the little vagrant, thinking somehow of the +Lord of all who had not where to lay His head.</p> + +<p>"For maybe if He was here," she soliloquized, "we shouldn't be able to +tell Him from anyone else. And it's just—anybody."</p> + +<a name="164"></a><center> +<img src="images/164.gif" width="500" height="392" alt="[Illustration: "<i>She dropped into a little heap before the fire.</i>"]" 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>"Let her sleep, Granny; it'll do her more good than anything else."</p> + +<a name="165"></a><center> +<img src="images/165.gif" width="434" height="374" alt="[Illustration: <i>"It was a famous Christmas feast."</i>]" title=""> +</center> + +<p>"But, Susy, child, we can't take care of her all the time. And—" +Granny stopped there, looking into Susy's eyes.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"She's smart and chipper, Granny, and she'll soon be better," 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>"O Susy, won't you sing again?" she pleaded. "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."</p> + +<p>"Yes, He <i>does</i> care. Mr. Linley told me so. You see," and Susy laid her +forefinger in the palm of the other hand, "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."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Jennie slowly, and with a sage nod, "wouldn't it be good, +Susy, if He would put it into the hearts of rich folks? they could do so +much."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes He does. Look at the newsboys' dinner! And there's a good +many things."</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>"She's a pretty sick little girl," said Susy, "but Granny and I will do +our best to pull her through."</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>"You see I've grown fond of her, a'ready," explained Susy. "I'd do +anything for her."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it's too late. I will send in a doctor, and some delicacies +from the house."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>What a point of conscience here amid poverty and ignorance!</p> + +<p>"The lessons have not all been on my side," said Mr. Linley to his wife +afterward. "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." Mrs. Linley went with her husband.</p> + + +<a name="169"></a><center> +<img src="images/169.gif" width="434" height="374" alt="[Illustration: <i>"O Mother! Mother!"</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>"Little Jennie," Susy whispered, "poor little girl, can't you open your +eyes a minute?"</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>"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—"</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 "the least of these?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Susy sobbing, "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."</p> + +<p>"The fame of your Christmas feast has gone up among the angels, Susy," +said Mr. Linley reverently. "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."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Linley walked home quietly. Had her beautiful Christmas +tree borne any such fruit as this?</p> + +<p>"For I was an hungered and ye fed me."</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>"Mother, it was dreadful!" Gerry's face was all shades of soberness, and +her voice had a suspicious quiver in it. "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."</p> + +<p>Mother Brace's hands fell upon the potato-pan, knife and all. "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—"</p> + +<p>"You can't spare a single clo', you blessed mother!" interrupted Gerry. +"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."</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 "old Jim Jimson," 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>"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!" +she repeated, clasping her hands in the dish-water with a splash.</p> + +<p>"Mother Brace," she said ten minutes later, when she sat on the top step +of the front porch with her arms across her mother's knee. "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." Mother Brace gasped.</p> + +<p>"But Gerry—"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<a name="173"></a><img src="images/173.gif" width="459" height="662" align="left" alt="[Illustration: "<i>I believe I've hit on the very thing to do</i>."]" title=""> + + +<p>"Yes'm," said Mother Brace meekly, "but where would they get the three +beds?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I suppose they sleep on something now, though probably it wouldn't +fit our clean barn; that's a fact."</p> + +<p>For a moment Gerry looked crestfallen. Then she brightened again.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>There was silence on the porch for a few minutes while Mother Brace +watched the sunset over beyond the hills.</p> + +<p>"It looks like the gates of the celestial city," she said at last, +"where there are homes for everybody. Yes, Gerry, dear, I'd be willing +to have them come, if there's anyway of fixing it."</p> + +<p>Gerry squeezed the work-roughened hand that had slipped into hers.</p> + +<p>"You blessed! Of course, I knew you would. Mother, I'm going to Aunt +Serinda about the beds."</p> + +<p>"Your Aunt Serinda?" Mother Brace gasped again. "Why, Gerry!"</p> + +<p>"Yes'm," repeated Gerry. "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."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid your Aunt Serinda will think—" began Mother Brace faintly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know she will think," Gerry agreed. "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."</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>"The Jimsons!" sputtered that good woman when Gerry began to dilate upon +their forlorn condition. "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."</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am," said Gerry; "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."</p> + +<p>Aunt Serinda held up her hands in horror.</p> + +<p>"In—your—barn? How perfectly ridiculous! Why, they'll bring microbes +enough to poison you all. And they'll run over everything."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," said Gerry promptly. "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?"</p> + +<p>"Well, of all things!" Aunt Serinda stood with her hands on her hips, +and stared at Gerry. "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."</p> + +<p>Gerry laughed cheerily.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Aunt Serinda turned, and led the way up stairs without a word.</p> + +<p>"There is a bed," she admitted when they stood under the peaked roof. "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."</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: "<i>It was very exciting, picking out and setting aside</i>."]" title=""> +</center> + + +<p>Once started, however, it seemed to be easy enough.</p> + +<p>"Those chairs over there," she said finally, dusting her hands upon her +apron when the collection had grown to a very respectable size, "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?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know." Gerry paused aghast. "I never once thought of that. I'll +find a way, though, or make it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I expect you would," said Aunt Serinda, smiling grimly; "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."</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>"Auntie, you're a—a winter apple! Just as crisp and reliable and sweet +inside! I like you."</p> + +<p>"Mercy me!" said Aunt Serinda, quite abashed. "Mercy me!"</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>"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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, thank you," said Gerry eagerly; "I can black it and all that. +And Aunt Serinda's James will come for it."</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>"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," quoting Aunt Serinda softly.</p> + +<p>Tears rolled down Gerry's cheeks onto the shining piece of gold in +Ruthie's hand.</p> + +<p>"You—darling!" 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>"I'll begin to sweep the barn this afternoon," she declared, hustling +the dishes off the table. "I don't want that poor Jimson soul to wait a +minute longer than she must to have it all."</p> + +<p>The dust was flying in clouds from the open barndoors when the "poor +Jimson soul" 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>"Oh, my!" thought Gerry as she watched her coming. "I never remembered +the clothes. They'll have to have them. I wonder—</p> + +<p>"Come right in, Mrs. Jimson," she interrupted herself; "come and sit +down here. You must be tired with such a long walk."</p> + +<p>"I ain't no more tired than I always am," Mrs. Jimson answered drearily, +dropping into the rocker Gerry pushed forward. "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."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Gerry nodded gravely, "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."</p> + +<p>"I guess all the housework won't hurt her," 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>"I'd be willing to do anything," she went on more energetically. "I +ain't lazy, though folks may think so; but I've got plum discouraged."</p> + +<p>"And now you are going to take heart o' grace and begin again," declared +Mother Brace, coming in with her broom over her shoulder in time to hear +the last words. "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."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll come." Mrs. Jimson straightened up so eagerly that she nearly +dropped the baby. "And I'll get 'em clean, too. I know how if I don't +look it."</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>"You see," she told Gerry when she had recovered her breath, being +somewhat portly for so steep a hill, "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.'"</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>"There's good stuff in her," was the verdict. "She may be a weed, but +she'll pay for cultivating."</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>"It's blossomed like the rose!" Gerry announced joyously. "It isn't a +barn any longer; it's a cottage. Oh, mother, it's better than a cottage; +it's a home."</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: "<i>Mrs. Jimson was on her knees scrubbing the barn +floor</i>."]" 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>"Aren't we splendid, Miss Gerry?" cried the little girl, pushing a +glowing face out from behind the baby's head. "Ma's just got us dressed +up, and we're going to have a bonfire of the old ones."</p> + +<p>"It was the Ladies' Aid, Miss Gerry," supplemented Mrs. Jimson almost as +excitedly. "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," she added with a new womanly +dignity that was very becoming; "but I couldn't never pay for the +kindness, never!"</p> + +<p>"It's beautiful," said Gerry, "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."</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>"I've brought them," 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: "<i>We want to show you our new house</i>."]" title=""> +</center> + +<p>"We want you to see our new house we've fixed up," Mother Brace +explained, coming to the rescue. "Come in, all of you."</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>"It couldn't be no completer, no ways," she pronounced judgment. "Nor no +prettier."</p> + +<p>Then Gerry found her voice, and the words came tumbling out in joyful +haste.</p> + +<p>"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—"</p> + +<p>"But I don't understand," faltered Mrs. Jimson, her bewilderment +deepening with every second. "Where did it come from? Whose is it? +How—"</p> + +<p>"It came from everybody," laughed Gerry tremulously. "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?"</p> + +<p>Little Mrs. Jimson dropped down suddenly in the middle of the shining +floor.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my land! my land!" she sobbed, rocking to and fro. "I never knew +there was such folks in the world. I feel just as if I'd got into one o' +the many mansions!"</p> + +<p>Mother Brace patted the bent shoulders gently.</p> + +<p>"You have," she said, her voice catching, "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."</p> + +<hr style="width: 55%;"> +<br> + +<a name="IShallNotWant"></a><h3>"I SHALL NOT WANT"</h3> +<br> + +<p>"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want."</p> + +<p>I shall not want food. "I am the bread of life. He that cometh to Me +shall never hunger."</p> + +<p>I shall not want drink. "If any man thirsteth let him come unto me and +drink."</p> + +<p>I shall not want rest. "Come unto Me all ye that labor and are heavy +laden, and I will give you rest."</p> + +<p>I shall not want guidance. "I am the way; no man cometh unto the Father +but by Me."</p> + +<p>I shall not want companionship. "I have called you friends." "Lo, I am +with you always."</p> + +<p>I shall not want joy. "These things have I spoken unto you that My joy +might remain in you, and that your joy might be full."</p> + +<p>I shall not want honor. "If any man serve me, him will My Father honor."</p> + + + +<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;"> + +<a name="188"></a><center> +<img src="images/188.gif" width="827" height="462" alt="[Illustration: "<i>We shall find plenty to do to-day</i>."]" 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>"We shall find plenty to do to-day, companion," remarked the latter; +"things are looking rather gloomy."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the Angel of Encouragement, "how blessed are we who carry +heaven's sunlight ever with us, and ever round us!"</p> + +<a name="189a"></a><img src="images/189a.gif" width="234" height="289" align="left" alt="[Illustration: "<i>Encourage somebody</i>."]" 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: "Try to encourage somebody +to-day." And thinking it was her own inner self that had spoken, she +answered, "Yes, perhaps that is the wise way after all."</p> + +<a name="189b"></a><img src="images/189b.gif" width="221" height="254" align="right" alt="[Illustration: "<i>Cheer up</i>."]" 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>"Cheer up! It will soon be going-home time."</p> + +<p>"Will it?" asked the child, and his sobs ceased.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I felt like crying this morning. But it's better to be brave."</p> + +<p>A business man was hurrying along, but paused to watch the work of +comforting. His heart was heavy, too, but her words: "It will soon be +going-home time—it's better to be brave," 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: "<i>Hope on</i>."]" 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>"Hope on! hope on! Though long the road and drear. Hope on! hope on! The +sunlit hours are near."</p> + +<a name="190b"></a><img src="images/190b.gif" width="199" height="249" +align="right" alt="[Illustration: "<i>Broke the +crust</i>."]" title=""> + +<p>It was Dorothy Cummins singing! "Hope on!" The woman began to sing too. +"The sunlit hours are near!" The washer went faster. The woman's face +caught a gleam from the coming sunlight. "Hope on! Hope on!" 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: "What a nice writer you are, George. Father couldn't +write a bit better than that, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"Don't you make fun of a fellow."</p> + +<p>"I'm not. I mean it."</p> + +<a name="191a"></a><img src="images/191a.gif" width="205" height="191" align="left" alt="[Illustration: <i>"I mean it.</i>"]" 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: +"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." 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>"I'm not tired now."<i/>]" title=""> +</center> + +<p>"Why, Dorothy, what have you got there?"</p> + +<p>"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." "But I'm not +tired now," said the mother, "not a bit of it. Why," lifting up her face +from the teacup, "your loving care has strengthened me already."</p> + +<p>"I shall be able to help you a lot after tea," 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>"Dear daddy," said she, stroking his white brow and smoothing the +pillow, "you will soon be better now."</p> + +<p>"How does my little one know that?"</p> + +<p>"Because the doctor generally goes away frowning, but to-day he actually +had a smile on his face. Daddy"—with a sudden movement, as though she +had just thought of something—"shall I read you something? I have +nothing to do before tea."</p> + +<p>"Do, my darling."</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. "Child, what +made you read that Psalm?"</p> + +<p>"Because, daddy, it's one of my favorites. Did you like it?"</p> + +<a name="192"></a><center> +<img src="images/192.gif" width="484" height="285" alt="[Illustration: "<i>The twenty-seventh Psalm</i>."]" title=""> +</center> + + +<p>"Yes." Then in a still lower voice, "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," and there was a glad ring in the voice, "you have been +doing angel's work."</p> + +<p>Twilight was filling the valley when again the angels met. "How has your +work fared to-day, companion?" asked the Angel of the Rainbow.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said the Angel of the Rainbow, "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."</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>"A young girl went from home," writes Mrs. Sangster, "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>"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."</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>"Have you put up my dinner, Maude?"</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>"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."</p> + +<p>Mr. Melvin sighed heavily.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"You can do nothing, father, and no one is to blame. I expect to be a +drudge. Amy," raising her voice, "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!"</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, Maude," said Mr. Melvin, again. "It was a sad day for us +all when your mother died."</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>"What's the use of being so cross, Maude?" asked Amy, a bright-eyed girl +of twelve. "I can't see that it does any good."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I help you all I can, Maude. I don't suppose you want me to +stay out of school to work."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"All right sis," rejoined Fred carelessly.</p> + +<p>"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," 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>"Wasn't Maude cross this morning? How she did bang things!"</p> + +<p>Amy puckered up her brow.</p> + +<p>"I can't understand it, Fred. Maude is always scolding."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and she belongs to the church. I'm glad I'm not a Christian, if +she's one."</p> + +<p>"Oh, hush, Fred! Christian people are happier than we are."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Well, I can't understand it," sighed Amy. "But, Fred, you know mama was +a Christian."</p> + +<p>"She was a real Christian, too," said Fred soberly. "But I guess it's +hard work to be the real thing. Maude must be a make-believe one," he +added.</p> + +<p>"Oh, hush, Fred! I don't like to hear you say such things."</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>"Everything's in order," she thought, as she looked about the neat +kitchen. "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."</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>"Aunt Sarah Easler," she said to herself, "and coming here, too."</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>"What is it, Aunt Sarah?" cried Maude. "Has anything happened?"</p> + +<p>"My poor child! My poor child! May God help you!"</p> + +<p>Maude felt herself growing faint, but she resolutely banished the +feeling.</p> + +<p>"What has happened?" she asked, in a voice so calm that it astonished +herself. "The children?"</p> + +<p>"The children are all right, my dear. It is your father."</p> + +<p>"My father! What of him? Is he hurt?"</p> + +<a name="199"></a><center> +<img src="images/199.gif" width="661" height="1049" alt="[Illustration: "<i>Tired father? Supper's all ready</i>."]" title=""> +</center> + + +<p>The old lady bowed her head and replied in a broken voice: "Badly hurt, +my dear."</p> + +<p>Maude grasped Aunt Sarah's arm.</p> + +<p>"Your face tells me that it is even worse than that," she said, calmly. +"Is he dead?"</p> + +<p>"My poor child!"</p> + +<p>"You need say no more. I know he is."</p> + +<a name="200"></a><img src="images/200.gif" width="333" height="497" align="left" alt="[Illustration: <i>"What is it, Aunt Sarah?"</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>"It was a dream," she murmured. "Heavenly Father, I thank thee!" And she +formed a few resolutions and lifted up her heart in prayer for help.</p> + +<p>"How terribly I have erred and wandered from the way," she said aloud. +"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."</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>"Tired, father? Supper's ready. I've made some of the toast you like and +opened a can of peaches.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you are very tired, Maude," said Mr. Melvin, looking +wonderingly at his daughter.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"God bless you, my daughter!" 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>"Duty first, and pleasure afterward," 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, "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."</p> + +<p>"I was only thinking," replied Amy, "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!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Leslie remained silent for a moment; then she said, while a quiet +smile played round her lips, "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."</p> + +<p>"There is no chance of my wanting any, I assure you, mama," said Amy, +joyfully; "I shall be so happy, you'll see!"</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," said Mrs. Leslie; "you may begin to-morrow. To-day I +shall expect you to do as usual."</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>"No duties" she said to herself, as she woke at seven, which was her +usual time for rising; "so I can lie in bed as long as I please." 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. "What a wretched breakfast!" she said, +as she took her seat.</p> + +<p>"Well, dear," replied Mrs. Leslie, "your breakfast was ready at the +usual time, and of course is cold now."</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: "<i>Carried it like a baby</i>."]" 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>"Don't go to your sister, my child, come to me;" 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, "No, Amy, this is a duty; remember you are to amuse yourself +and do nothing else."</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>"I shall never be able to bear another day of this," she said to +herself; "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."</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, "O mother! +mother! the copy was quite right, 'Duty first, and pleasure afterward;' +for without duty there is no pleasure at all."</p> + +<a name="206"></a><center> +<img src="images/206.gif" width="398" height="424" alt="[Illustration: "<i>Her mother's arms were around her</i>."]" title=""> +</center> + + +<hr size=7 style="width: 75%;"> + + +<a name="207"></a><center> +<img src="images/207.gif" width="796" height="568" alt="[Illustration: "<i>Do tell us a story</i>."]" title=""> +</center> + +<a name="dangerousdoor"></a><h2>THE DANGEROUS DOOR</h2> + + +<p>"Oh, cousin Will, do tell us a story! There's just time before the +school-bell rings." And Harry, Kate, Bob, and little Peace crowded about +their older cousin until he declared himself ready to do anything they +wished.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Cousin Will. "I will tell you about some dangerous +doors I have seen."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's good!" exclaimed Bob. "Were they all iron and heavy bars? +And if one passed in, did they shut and keep them there forever?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"What? That's splendid!" cried Kate. "I should like to go in myself."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Why, what comes out?" said little Peace, with wondering eyes.</p> + +<p>"When the guards are away," said Cousin Will, "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."</p> + +<p>"I know what you mean," cried Kate, coloring.</p> + +<p>"Were you listening?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mean our mouths are doors!" exclaimed Harry, "and the crimson +lady is Miss Tongue; but who are the guards, and where do they come +from?"</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"Oh dear!" exclaimed Ruth impatiently, as she put the library to rights. +"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."</p> + +<p>"Then, since you say you cannot very well have a new one just now, why +do you look at it?" asked Aunt Rachel, smiling. "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>"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>"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: "<i>A lovely house with truly +golden windows</i>."]" title=""> + +<p>"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>"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>"'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>"You see, much depends on your point of view.</p> + +<p>"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."</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>"The light of the sun does us no +good unless we are living in it!"</i>]" title=""> </center> + +<a name="newlife"></a><h2>THE NEW LIFE</h2> + +<p>"The light of the sun does us no good unless we are living in it! Yes, +that is just what the minister said," mused Tim, as he tossed his +Sabbath-school paper upon the table, and gave himself up to the flow of +his own thoughts. "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."</p> + +<p>"What is on your mind, now?" 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>"Oh, I was just thinking about what the minister said last Sabbath, +that is all," replied the lad in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Neither have I," said Tim. "And do you know, I have been wondering +whether Mrs. Martin will give her class any presents this Christmas."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And let's get up one for her," proposed Tim.</p> + +<p>"And that means that we will," laughed Ada. "When you say, 'let's' in +that tone something is always sure to happen."</p> + +<p>"But we don't want to have the whole say about the presents ourselves," +observed the boy, evidently pleased at his sister's compliment. "Mark +and Nettie haven't come by from school yet. When they do, we will call +them in, and see what can be done."</p> + +<p>"All right, and let's watch for them."</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>"What is it?" shouted Mark from the road.</p> + +<p>"Come and see," 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>"It is just like this," said Ada; "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?"</p> + +<p>"That would be just the thing," said Nettie.</p> + +<p>"But what do you think she would want?" queried Mark.</p> + +<p>"We can't tell, unless we ask her," replied Ada. "But have any of us +ever heard her say what she wanted?"</p> + +<p>"I have," said Tim. "I have heard her say that what she wanted the most +of anything was to have her scholars come to Christ."</p> + +<p>"But I mean something that we could give her."</p> + +<p>"But if we should make up our minds to be Christians, it would make her +pleased," said Tim, "and perhaps she'd rather be pleased in this way +than to have a present."</p> + +<p>"I know that she would," said Nettie; "and I say, let's settle the +question once for all."</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>"You may as well tell us what you do mean," said Mark.</p> + +<a name="216"></a><img src="images/216.gif" width="431" height="575" align="left" alt="[Illustration: "<i>We might sign a paper</i>."]" title=""> + + +<p>"Why, just what I said," replied Tim. "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."</p> + +<p>"I should say as much," said Nettie.</p> + +<p>"But what can be done about it?" queried Mark, in perplexity.</p> + +<p>"We might all sign a paper, telling her what we intend to do, and give +it to her Christmas," proposed Tim.</p> + +<p>"So we can," said Mark, "and let's do it at once."</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; +"Want to hear it?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," answered Nettie.</p> + +<p>So he read: "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."</p> + +<p>"Just the thing," said Ada.</p> + +<p>"And I suppose that we must all sign it," suggested Nettie.</p> + +<p>"Of course," answered Tim.</p> + +<p>"But is this all that we must do to be Christians?" queried Mark.</p> + +<p>"I should say not," answered Tim, "but if Mrs. Martin knows that we are +in earnest, she will tell us what to do."</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>"Oh, my precious class! My precious class!" This was all she could say, +as she looked from one to another with face shining like an angel's.</p> + +<p>"We thought that you'd tell us just what to do," began Ada. "We felt +that we needed help from you."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"That will be just beautiful!" 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. "Is this what you all believe?"</p> + +<p>"It is," 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>"Oh, how I shall prize this little note," said Mrs. Martin, as they were +leaving the church for home. "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."</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>"I can't make yesterday over again."</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>"Are you tired of your playhouse already, dear?" she asked.</p> + +<p>The childish eyes were uplifted with a look of wistful wonder in them, +and the answer came slowly.</p> + +<p>"I can't do it—I can't make yesterday over again."</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. "You have been having a good time, Meg," 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>"Now, then, wash your hands and face, dear. Dada will soon be in for +dinner."</p> + +<p>But Meg pouted. "I don't want to wash," she said. "I am not dirty."</p> + +<p>Mama waited a little, but when she saw that Meg did not begin to wash, +she said, quite gravely:</p> + +<p>"You cannot sit at the table, as you are, dear. If you do not wash, then +you must go without your dinner."</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>"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."</p> + +<p>Mania did not speak for a moment. In her heart she said, "Lord help me +to make this plain to my little girls."</p> + +<p>"Did Meg have to wash?" she asked them.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lucy. "If not, she would have to—"</p> + +<p>"Bear the punishment," said mama. "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>"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"—and here mama laid her hand on Meg's +head—"or else to punish them when they are naughty.</p> + +<p>"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."</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, "Repentance and restoration."</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 Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7918839 --- /dev/null +++ b/13126-h/images/001.gif diff --git a/13126-h/images/002.gif b/13126-h/images/002.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..25a7c72 --- /dev/null +++ b/13126-h/images/002.gif diff --git a/13126-h/images/006.gif b/13126-h/images/006.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..61ed05b --- /dev/null +++ b/13126-h/images/006.gif diff --git a/13126-h/images/008.gif b/13126-h/images/008.gif Binary files 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