Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Emily's mamma
 Emily's grandmamma
 The cousins
 The little cheat
 The close of William's history
 The doves
 Idolatry punished
 The finishing stroke
 A pleasant Sabbath
 Conclusion of the sermon-effect...
 The missionary's story
 The missionary's story continu...
 The two aunts
 The pretty home left - still...
 A happy fireside
 The visit
 The fright - rightly punished
 Visit to Uncle Tommy's
 Another pleasant visit
 A lecture from a little text
 Self-will punished
 Grace's letter
 Grace at school
 Grace at home
 A change
 The conclusion
 Back Cover

Title: Emily, or, early days
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00001727/00001
 Material Information
Title: Emily, or, early days
Series Title: Emily, or, early days
Physical Description: Book
Creator: Kidder, Daniel P.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00001727
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: ltqf - AAA1816
ltuf - AMF1453
oclc - 08703930
alephbibnum - 002446209

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Front Matter
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Title Page
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Table of Contents
        Page 7
        Page 8
    Emily's mamma
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
    Emily's grandmamma
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
    The cousins
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
    The little cheat
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
    The close of William's history
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
    The doves
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
    Idolatry punished
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
    The finishing stroke
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
    A pleasant Sabbath
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
    Conclusion of the sermon-effect upon Emily
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
    The missionary's story
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
    The missionary's story continued
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
    The two aunts
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
    The pretty home left - still happy
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
    A happy fireside
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
    The visit
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
    The fright - rightly punished
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
    Visit to Uncle Tommy's
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
    Another pleasant visit
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
    A lecture from a little text
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
    Self-will punished
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
    Grace's letter
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
    Grace at school
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
    Grace at home
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
    A change
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
    The conclusion
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
    Back Cover
        Page 209
        Page 210
Full Text

r I.
iI LA"
'N mU',






n3sorWAL caEenu, n Mrmmu-sI.
Joseph Longk, Printer.


.t-Emily's Mamm . . '
Il.-Emily's GOandmanu . 17
UI.-The Coui . . . 0
IV.-The Little Cheat . .. .
V.-The Cloe of William's Hito 36
VL-The Does . . .. 4
VIL-IdM.ir punished . .
VIII.-The Finihin Stroke . 6
IX.-A Pleasan Sbbath . .. 71
X.-Conclusion of the Senmma-Ef-
fect upo Em iy . . .
L-The issionMrys toy . 7
XIL-The MiinOary's So con-
tiued . . ... .
IIL-The Two Aunto . . 10
XI.-The Prety Hamse lf-Sai
hppy ...... 114
XV.-A Hap Firi . 119
XVL-The Viit . . . ..
XVI.-The Fright-R tly punid 131
XVI-P-hllr . . . . 1


XIX.--it to UslTomy'. .... 147
XX.-Anodr Plesss raki . 1
XXI.-A Letone foa Little Tet IN
XXIL--&Ilf-wil punmi ... .
XnII.-Ore' Leter . . . 18
XXIV.--Orae at Bhol . .. 196
XXV.-nce at Home ...... 19
XXVL-A Chang . . . .01
XXVI.-The Caoclauon .. . 20

on oUr hWir, a 6pp child,
I sit #gain beside her feet,
And uk mamma, in earned tore,
A Bile story to repet.
Then, ,n .=.nad, I iten on,
antm tue i.n hea& cesed to Ahie,
had meadrg shdu ownlfr moad
The window .id AeAlWteriengvi.
EMILY was a lite girl, who
had a dear mnma. -She hmd a
good papa too; but be wae not
with her as constantly as hb
mmmnna wa. aFsO had
bother and asters; butthey did
oat livn at homes. all tha tiAu
Some of them were married a

some who were not married staid
a great deal with those who were.
Thus Emily's mamma was al-
most her only companion, and
she could not have had a better.
This dear mamma taught her
many good and useful things.
, The house in which they lived
stood in a street nearly filled with
houses, placed very near together.
But it was large, and a pleasant
garden lay behind it.
The window of the room in
which Emily's mamma slept was
quite covered by a vine, which
bore beautiful purple fowers.
This vine also grew all over a
trellice by the back piazza, and
ran over the second story win-




aMu.JT V JL %U i .a Y
called her chair. A limb stretch-
ed out, on which she used to sit
and read her little books. The
branches over her head kept the
sum from shining on her. She
had many pleasant hours in that
Then there were some white
llac, and some purple ones.
Out of thea she would make
wuaths for her dear mamma,
who always took them wilh a
sweet smile, and thanked her for
Below, the grass-plot ws a
sque flower-bed. Hyacinth,
wih their delicate rose-olored
bell, and their blue ones, and

their puie-white osM, grw tbhe,
sending forth the sweetest modi,
in the month of ApriL Prtty
blue-bells grew there also, and
yellow dafodil; and tulip, look-
ing high, and stiff, ad proud, aad
ae, in their manyoldored dae.-
es. Then there was the fowue
ing almond, with its beatiul
pink flowers growing in wremsM
on its branch.
Emily's mamma loved flowers.
Sometimes when she want o to
weed the flowerbed ds woml
let little Emily accompany hue
Emily had a smi hoe, with
which she hoed upsft weeds.
But oammtmsu. eBily made
a mike, and had *p t*l
Lewr too. Thba hIer ml

would try to plant them out
Emily loved the room in which
her dear mamma slept the best
of any room in the whole house.
She kept her little chair there.
On a summer's afternoon,
Emily's mamma generally sat
by that pleasant window, and
sewed. As soon as Emily saw
her mamma sit down, she would
run to get her little chair, and
place it as near her mamma as
she could get it; and then, look.
ing up in her face, say,
S"Mamma, won't you tell me
a little story now ?"
Sometimes her mamma would
say, No, my dear, I cannot tell
you a.story now; for I am too

busy." But at other timer she
would say,
Yes, Emily, I will tell you a
pretty story, out of the Bible."
I do not think Emily forgot
any of the Bible stories whih
her dear mamma told her. When
she grew to be a large gir, ald
could read them for herself, she
loved them better for her mae-
ma's having told them to her
when she was a little girl.
Her mamma told her about
Ruth; good Ruth, who would
not go away and&I ve her poor
old mother.
She was very mueh pleased
when she heard Itt'od gave
Ruth a deant Mi4b t after she
married Rn ami *ha hmida

"O, mamma! that little baby
must have been a great comfort
to NaomL I expect she loved
it deary. I do not think she le
it be any trouble to Ruth. Don't
you think she always rocked it to
sleep r'
Her mamma said,
"I dare say Naomi rocked it
to sleep, very often, my dear."



EUIUTs grandma used to
spend a part of the year with
her father and mother. The rst
of the time she visited aad
among her other children.
E: ily was glad wh it was
time for her dear gramnda tb
oome beak to he house. '"
BEmy' bed-room lo. ed in
iefrgn hMa'srooBmw SaoaenaD
family would feel wry ulay In
the iboraing, and woeldaot open
he eyes untlbe sn hl aimbed
up very high in tha kt. Then

i8 MAL.v "sLT

wd the litte bird are singing.
Get up, my liWte Emily, and en-
oy the pleasat mominig Wa
Then Bmily would say,
"0, ~mml tbe bed is so
good!4 Pleee let me lie a little
But at hat she would get up,
0td them he saw something that
made her feel quite uhamwd It
wm her der old gmadsm with
hos t oa on hamr momeu. l
h large Bible in h sw p tiimf
beeu the bedmonm wias d
rodimg. 'T. BEmily weoUl

"i OtoI amlUktt. gmandMo
is than I am! TheM *h haM

I WMW 10

been learning about God in the
Bible, I don't know how long;
and I hate been doing nothing
but sleep, deep, deepi
'han Emiry wouldduah end
se bh mf and pd y to God to
fteive her for having been wo
hay. And the she wved go
imto her gradm a'm room, and
ake heid of her had to let h
4own to Lmily plyen.


OnS day, two little boys, who
were coins of Emily, came to
ue their grandma. It was cod,
but grandma always kept a bright
wood .re burning in her room in
the winter time, which aued to
look very cheerful.
Alfred, and Louis, and Emily
sat down for a while, on little
benches, in their grandma's room.
They fin. looked at th6window
and be( 'itaia d about
them. Selifmte *ifecame to
use gmadt they looked at
these cutains, and admied them.
They were covered all ove with

pictures. The boys thought they
were mueh prettier than their
mamma's red crtains, which
were without pictures.
SLook, cousin Emily," said
Alfred, "that beautiful little bhd
hasmt got the chery yet, although
ho mouth has been wide open
for it so long, and it is close by
him. I always wish I could
with it off; and whip it into his
mouth for him."
"And tere, cousin Alfred,"
aid Emily, "is the same better.
fly, standing on the petty lowr,
jut as he did when Iww a little
girL Mamma says I usedo try
to atoh it in my hands whea. I
was a baby?' .
Then they would look at the

high ehest of awers, uhainag
like a lookingglss, and at the
owner cupboMd, with glas doom,
and at the very large Bible so
large that not one of them would
Pawently the boys began to
amuse themselves at play. While
Alfred and Louis were playing
E ily looked on. After the boy
had played awhile, gradma
heard them speaking eroly to
each othe. She looked up from
her work, and asked what thy
were doing.
"Alf-ed does not play f
grandma," mid Loui; "he is
trying to cheat me all the time."
Grandma laid down her wak,
aud aid,

.Cbht!, Ihgp AlfMedwold
not be wiahmd as to chest
little ither a saybody l.
Did not you play sir, Alted
Tdl me the trmth
Alfred hung dawn hiu head
ad looed ashaned, but would
mtspoapk a woo&.
Then grandma said,
"How was it, Eily YoU
w all."
Thet Emily aid,
SI am afsid Ak i didn't play
quite fair."
Then grandma put hr peoa-
le on, and aid, ..
S"O0 my dwr little boy, how
mdki you be so wicked a to
shbot, eea in playI Thi is a
in against God. His holy wd

Her what he says" continued
grandma, as she took her large
Bible off the chest of dmwen,
and, opening it, read from 1 Thes-
dwleians i, 6:
"' That no man go beyond ad
defraud his brother in any ntab
ter; because the Lord is the
avenger of all such.'
"Thus says the New Teas
ment," continued gmnndmama;
"ow bear what the Old Testa-
ment says:
"'A fale balance is abonana-
tion to the Lord.' Pro. xi, 1.
O, how very badly Alfred felt,
as grandma thus spoke to him;
and Emily and Louis felt amy


Alfred cried, and said he would
lever be so naughty again, and
hat he would beg God to forgive
im for his dear Son's sake.
Wha grandma saw that he
Bt aOy, she did not talk to hIm
bout the marbles any more.
She told the children that he
would tell them a story about a
itle boy, whom "he had onae
They were glad grandma was
foing to tell them a sty, for eke
ways told them very petty to-
ies. So they ran to t on thk
enobei, and kept very till while
ie told them thelittle story in
he next chapter.

,S .3ATY lnYS.

Ocme these was a MIde boy
whteM name was William Sn.
cliff. He ued to go to cmool
with my boy, in the old shool-
house that stood under the large
willowtee, in .the north part of
the town. That school-home is
p-ufed down now, ad the large
btik ac@ewmy has been put up
in its psce; bat, to my uadit
is not bal as pleasant looking as
the old shool-houe on the green,
with its little eapola on the tp,
peeping from betwenathe baneh-
es of the big tree that shaded it
so nicely.


Wa wl, fi Wilam Bodtr,
poor boy, had pMreb who moyr
iaght him his duty. His father
wa one who, as the Bible Sas,
abd hate to be riek' amd he
ught William that it wM do-
sIale to be rich and great a
ths wvodd; instead of teaahieg
him to I aeek fu the klgdoas of
God and his niteoneMr ,' i
the belief that as muMh of .the
wodd a it wa for his good to
have hold be addedd tbem.
u Ioften usd to her my boy
talk of the dihboaety of WillMis.
oetimes I thought that th t
dsiked him too moh; bat I
feumd that they *ere not amlom
in these m fal nmr to d >&MI.

.m M ft.

&m. Nunn Suu"
No matter what they playd,
William would always conslve
to get the better of thoee he
played with. He did ndt we
by what means he gained Mb
e4d, so he only gained it. He
never thought that the eye of
God was on him, and saw his
wicked ways with displeome.
When William was about
ferteen year old Cornelius Va
New came to live with us. Wil-
liam heard that Cornelis was
ab, and, as he wasralmays seek
eag great thing for him"ud he
took a great deal of pain to
pease him. Cotelias, at fit,
mit him aor his obliinaw way.

is u dr m sent blm a cdb.
beIot, aud a bi Of SlMBsnen,
wblab WlamO happened to we,
sat wrhic he took a gat fmney
to.. s wuas a snimar boy, and
mak learned to play dtee wilh
After Corneitu bid bees
wia me a few month, bhews
taker oiok, and did not ge(tr1tb
vj for some titne. He ootdl
nto tadyw read, and somelldes
hbadly bhew how, to6 spend h'
thia. So tht,Bot being W ale "
do saything eltitbr ihis anumi.-
imentt, h-e wrci offt4 get VW.
liam'to joha* ab in a game of
dahe. My o:wh boys *ib tt
busy emvr to lean t*hb gqmd.
WE ao day y kn a asth

dAing his newpap by rbke,
meur wvioh hung that very &ga
which you now see aging up
hee, with its mahoguy fiarm
Te boys at needy behind him,
isying d he by a wmall t1
hat Mt in the middle of do
aom. Al at ons, Comelm's
a#s bgan bleed, and he mw
A~iged to ave e tabl. Whl
b wams gone, your. gm lpw p
hlwyppn to oet hir eye It i
008% as he turned hi paper
Bd other s ir an Koer Wil i t

dId not -Myvar binge, but be
49ht4 be would Iwatb the ael
at it. Whe Coma libr Ome
imk am&d t wdanm ohb dk

Xa35 DeA. a
bem, hbe hed Imesty, Why,
Widlam, youa bhe change my
*'No/ -aid William, 'they
sald jut as ey duL I hat
ot touched thi .'
f*' But some one oatainly hams
for my bishop stood there, smL
my king here,' aid CoraliM.
"*'Nobody at al hIm bea
here,' aid William. 'They s
j"t hahe tm lebt them; so
it dow, ad fnin your msfew
AtBt thiw is et the uame
me at alD/M a wl uOdits. 'I
majtlt u*n the poat of giMf
iag et gume, aud. he I, dal
eiYouy lsoe.'
.*Yon M e alogether aie*
tk :idhtWidiiL .

My bhbeand w thomug it
hig time to interfew. '* i
written in the good book, Wil-
lim, is it not? Cursed ls he
who removeth his neighboae
land-mark, Deut. zxvii, 17; and
is not the ain of removing your
neighbors dhewsmen, with the
intention of taking an unlaiml
advantage over him, also t great
SIt is alo written,'o oninued
mybabum'id, en B latiom i4
8 A limrs ball have tbhe prt
ia the lake within bnmoth wih
fie nadbrimaton& Ad inPrar.
i, 19: The lip of trth dll be
established for ever: but a lying
tongue is but for a moment.
William you are ot imnigmt

.-. -. ..

wAIJ. &%Va wl =vw UU wa
I hav told you well; but you
did not regard them when .en
were guilty, in the first place, of
moving Cornelius's obese*men,
and, in the seed, of telling a
falsehood about it.
"'Who saw me move the
chewmen?' said William, very
"'One saw you whose eye is
ever ov us,' said your grandpa;
'one who sees our actons, and
even our very thoughts; i'whouo
eyes "the thought of wihsdness
is sin."'
William did not seem to care,
if only God saw him. He' per-
sisted in saying that the cbh -
men stood just as they bhd stood


WUWn JiUsmUiW.u auaouI UI
he blushed and looked very mu&h
ahamed when my husband told
him that he bad seen all he had
been doing, in the looking-glas.
He did not mind offending God,
but he was mortified at beig
found out by a fellow-creature,
and he could not endure the look
of scorn which Cornelius gave
him, although he did not speak
another word to William aftn
your grandpa told what be had
see him do.
William sneaked of as soon
as possible; and thus lost all th
advantage which he had promised
himself, through his aoquaintanm
with Cornelius.
SMy own boys were not a

handsome or as witty as Wil-
liam; but they were honest and
affectionate, and always spoke
the truth. Cornelius was a noble
boy himself. Though rich, and
of a high family, he was not
proud; and he became very much
attached to Andrew and Oliver.
He never forgot them, even
after he went home to live, and
became a great man himself; but
constantly sent them, valuable
presents, as proofs of his regard
for them.
So you see 'he that walketh
upightly, walketh surely; but be
that perverteth his ways shall be
known,'" continued grandma,
wo read her Bible somuh that
ie had a teat far every ocason.


WHEN grandma had finished
telling about the cheating bo)
Alfred said,
Grandma, I will never agai
do as I have done this afternoon
I hope Louis will forgive me
and I hope God will forgive me
Then grandma kissed Alfred
and said,
"Come here, Louis, and tel
your brother that you forgv
him; for he is sorry that he he
done wrong."
SWhen Louis had shaken hean
with Alfred, and told him tha


he forgave him, then grandma
And if Louis is so willing to
forgive you, my dear little boy,
surely God is not lesa willing.
But you must always ask hib
forgiveness in the name of Jesus
Christ; for it is written in the
Bible.: And if any man sin, we
have an Advocate with the Fa-
ther, Jesus Christ the righteous.'"
1 John ii, 1.
By this time it was dark out
of doors; but the cheerful fire
sparkled and blazed on the hearth,
and the log made music, as the
sap oozed out of it.
Grmndma and the children sat
by the pleasant light, waiting un-
til they were called down to tea.


Alfred aid,
I do not wonder that nobod
liked William, if he was always
so naughty. But he had n
good grandma to tell him hom
to do right, as I have. So b
was not so much to blame as
have been."
Emily said,
u Grandma, did William gro
up to be a man?"
"Yes, child," said grandma
"and he was just the same kin
of man as he had been a boy.
will tell you another little ato
about William, which will sbo
you how he always tried to che
even though it could not do hii
any good. He seemed to hai
got so into the habit of it, that

really appeared as if he oould not
help it."
"But he could have helped it,
if he had tried, couldn't he, grand-
ma?" exclaimed all the children,
at once. Nobody is obliged to
"Yes, my dean; if William
had been desironu to do right,
and had watched against his be-
aUtting sin, and prayed to God to
keep him from it, he certainly
would have been kept from it.
But the wont of it was, he would
never believe that it was not a
very clever thing to cheat; God
was not in all his thoughts.' He
did not care whether he pleased


Just then the bell rang for tea,
and Emily took hold of her
grandma's hand, and led her
down stairs, while Alfred and
Louis followed them.
Emily's mamma had rice
cakes and honey, with nice light
gingerbread, for tea; and a bowl
of milk for the little ones.
Her papa was always kind to
children, and he helped them to
all the good things upon the ta-
ble; talking to them plasantly
all the time.
After tea they went up to their
grandma's room again.
The mahogany table, whieh

shone like silver, wa
fore the fire. Twc
U.4,.dl.. ..4

quilt. The* boys were set -to
wind a skein of yam, and they
then begged grandma to tell them
a little more about William.
Grandma said,
I would Wher tell you about
a better boy; but, sinee you wish
to hear more about him, I will
go on.


4 ~ua.rT DAY&.
'Soon after his affair with
ornelius, he was put with a
stoekeeper, who lived next door
to our house. His employer, at
firt, liked William, and so did
his customers. He was quick
and pleasant in his ways, and al-
ways had a word for everybody.
"But those who went to the
store found out, very soon, that
if he gave them good words, he
did not always give them good
artices. His old habit of cheat-
ing made him enemies, and his
master had continued complaints
of William brought to him.
You oould not send a child,
nor an ignorant servant, to the
store for anything; for William
was sure to take the advantage

of them.* One day your grand
and William's employer b6oght
a load of water-melons, togehr.
They were to be divided after-
ward; and William was to be
the person to divide them. I did
not know of the aranrgelent at
the time.
"I sat at my bedroom window,
sewing, when I saw the wapa
drive up to the store, and Wil-
liam n out to do something
that Mr. Moore bade him.
I saw him lay the water-me.
lone in two piles. He would
look at each one all over, and
lay the specked and spotted ones,
with the good aide up, on one
heap; and then put the sound
ones in another heap. I cea-

AA .. flA

eladed that. William vns set to
ptik out the decayed ones, and
thought no more about it, until
I saw my husband come up with
Kingston, our colored man, and
ask William which pile he would
select for himself. Of course he
chose the sound ones, and King-
ston was told to wheel the other
pile to our house, in his wheel.
When Kingston took them
up, he shook his head as he
found one after another so spot-
ted and decaying._
"' Let me look at your pile,
Massa Billyh he said, advancing
to the good ones; but William
called out to him to mind his
own business, and not trouble

hmniaf with what was no aom*
cemofis. But Kingston thought
his master's concerns his also,
and insisted on examining.
".Then he turned round, and
"'Massa Billy, you are a
plagwey cheat You hobeat me,
you cheat my mase, and I afraid
datan will cheat you, some day.
My skin very black, but your
heart blacker, to. cheat a good
man like my mama.'
SWilliam did mt sem as angry
at Kingston's aiegohl a I should
have supposed ha would be.
But I could not hedp aghing to
hear the truth told him so plain-
I hope, grandma, that grand.

father did not take the heap of
melons that William picked out
for him," said Alfred.
O, yes," aid grandma, he
took them; for he was a man
that would never have any dio
pate with anybody. But he told
Mr. Moore that he could not hare
any more dealing with him,
while William managed his
"Did Mr. Moore keep William
long?" said Baily.
No; e found haloat eatom-
es by having him, bright and
quick as he was; aad, oon aft
the affair of the water-melons, he
sent him away."
Then grandma told the boys
again that they mst always be

honest, and never cheat each
other in playing or trading td-
After this, he made them re-
peat this tet, from Prov. zi 18,
after her, until they knar it per-
"The wicked wodket a de-
ceitful wor; but to im that
moweth righteounqme hall be a
ase reward.
Then she helped tem: ll
mound to a plate nt, ind a
fie large applt and, fr they
bha eaten them, the chi~ en
went home, very much pleaed
vwit theti visit to grandma and
ausin Emily.


"And them my ltae damve did sit;
With rLknoatir rown,
And littering eye."
A Pmsas. gentleman one day
came tq see Emily's papa. He
had just come from France, and
had brought some beautiful bids
with him.L
When company came to see
b father or her mother, Emily
ws always quiet and wellbe-
She .did not trouble them as
some children trouble their pa-
rents. She did not come and
whisper to them when they were


talking to tbdr friMdi, sd aik
(or 6nmdrt g to eat, or iWle
if she might go somewhem Se
would not do anything to diaeb
.r pwentu, when they wasot to
lk to company. 8he did ot
jump up on the sofa on which
her mammg wuaitttg; a t

iabir over in the middle qf a
room, like a naughty girl I sw
the ay day,
No; mnily mt very stiL-upon
heay it hair, pt.tiened to
what the malsma & vv saying.
She kiM to hear Mr. Dpont
talk, a qhgh bis words d4 not
somud ob erli er papa'l. He
said difn t'k, Wa&ddtf t .t;

MlEr 0rlm

ay, be. mid,
" WdemuclhekdMy, I hs
m p-k of dowse-w"..lypa
would like i pusbai ini

Then he tred to 1k Ru.
Al, and maid,
- 64WiL you AiW; s to16 *
Om on to Mademcimsl Bmli
r thiseveni .-,*
Bn* tnked 1*w akd po r
ria spiklipffgvye% iP hIU&k
resent e heM oed but,6 h
.E & 66 .4v -a h% b moi
amrag hmm qr ~; sod if Be*I
iWIVIOMid *A ~
- ~ein Yshe~aw dabgtm
obs. she am, dm
, Tey h loweeshai~am of&

an N*MbT DATY.
beautiful coor, and sot, bright
eyes, that looked at her whb
she fed them as if they thanked
uad loved her for her kiadnems
They would let her stoke their
soft feathers, and they wold
misle in her bosom, and lay their
pretty heads against her cheek.
Awond their necks was a ring
of black feathers, and the noie
they made was sweet and musi-
L k was coo, coo coo, said
so prettily and gently that every
one moved to har i
Thy wre sotame, the pretty
doves, that Emily was not obiged
to kep the dor of theis age al
*ys deosed. They woaud go hi
and out just a they ikid. At
u .they had s.me patty eggs,

uIsy IanT. R
Mu whiek the female bird, whom
Emily named Serena, used to
sit. The male bird wm eaMhd
Sela. Sla uaed to fly out in
the garden, and get freh kworm
for Serena, who would soaeely
leave her nest for a minute.
It was beautiful to we thee
pretty dve meet, after Sels had
been out a little while. bH
would walk up to Serena, ar
touch her bill, and look lovingly
at her with his soft dark eye.
Then they would both ooo, soo,
a if theywere saying how very
glad they were to meet again.
Bmily loved these doves too
well. We love anything ib
well tim draws us away from'
dei tr wlt it in risit for na to

do. Emily's doves were in be
mind nearly all the time. I Mn
darry to say that Emily though
of them in churb, and some
times even when she was saying
her prayes.
Sometimes her head would bI
so full of them when she waked
in the morning, that she wouk
half dress herself, and hurry ova
her prayers, to get to her doves
Then she would stand and lool
at them while the prayerbell rang
rang, rang. She did not like t
leave her doves even to go is
when her dear papa prayed.
Every day Emily watched he
doves with more pleasure. HI
mamma often said to bhe
"Mv der little airL von m


mAyIMTAns. a
your heart too mukn on your
birds. They saw vy beantrl
and afeetioate. I do not wor-
der that you love them, for I am
very fond of them mylf. But
I am afraid you make lite idols
of your pretty birds.
S"0, mamma!" Msid Emily,
"an idMl a great,ugly,wooden
thing. I have aen many pim
tans of idolsI but my beautiful
doves cannot be idols."
Emily," answered her mam-
ma, "we make an idol of say,
thine that we love better than


persons wbom we love best; do0
we not? We are always plead
when the time comes for us to
talk to them"
0 ye, mamma," said Emily.
"When you go out to tea I al.
ways watch for the time when
you will come home again; and
am so glad to see you, and to
tell you all that has happened
while you were away, and to
have you kiss me for good
Bmily's mamma aid,
"Last evening, my little girl
had hardly got through her pray.
er, which she hurried over, when
she jumped off her knees, and
mair <4 Mamrna q&Lr hmwnwa a

ebmsy home in his bill fr Beena
today.' And dds mornit g, dr
you had given your doves their
sponge-cake, you could not bear
to go away from them, even to
pay to God with the ret of the
Bmily hung down her head,
and blbed very much, and the
tears came in ber eye.
Her mamma continued,
When we love anything bet.
ter than God boe sometimes takes
it away fohm Wl uli sinned in
loving his wi bo than God;
for God aid (f Mu,41 Sam. ii,
29,) 'And henti thy sons
above me.' f thue sons were
deprived of ff, ua poor Eli was
bitterly punished for his idolatry."

Although Emily's mamma
talked thus tor.er, yet Emily
watched her doves as closely a
Emily was a little girl who
loved very much, when ihe
loved at all. I do believe that
she loved her doves as well as
some little girls love their bro
there and sister..



Oxs morning ela add Bereaa
eemaed to love one another more
than %ver. They looked at eam
other, and cooed, and ooed, and
The time esme for 8els to
take his little fight from the
cage. Before he went away, he
put his bill to Serena's, and
looked at her with his large, lo-
ing eyes. The he would walk
to the door of the eage, and turn
back and look at her again, as
much as to say,
My health requires a little
freh air, but uam orw to leave

you, my little wife. I shall no
stay very long away from you
however. I hope you will no
be very lonely when I am gone.'
Then erena would say Coc
ooo, coo," which meant, I sup
pose, *
"Do not be uneasy about me
my dear Sela. I shall miss yo
to be ure; but I will do ver
well for a little while: youwiJ
not be gone very long."
The time that Bela usually
staid out palsed away, but h
did not oome back to his cage.
Sela tays away a long time
does he not, mamma?" said litt
Then she began to be uneas]
,-- a. -- --- --

She got off hbr aet, and walked
to the door of the cage, which
stood open, and made a nht
mournful moise.
The whole morning phaed
away, without their hearing amy-
thing from poor Bela. Atlength
Eaily'3 papa came in, jut before
dinner, looking very sorry. He
had bad news. He had beap
told that a cruel boy had shot
poor Bela. Indeed, be had
bumught him home, quite deed;
but would not let Emily se him
The was great grief i the
houe for poor Bela, aad f 8e-
ena too. e had taken no food
aime the usual time for the rtam
of her little mate; but at up in
me comer of the Gage, with th

saddest look in her beautiful
yes. Now and then she would
send forth a soand quite different
from her usual sweet note.
Emily's sorrow wa very gat
She remembered what her moo
there had told her, a few days be.
fase, about God's removing our
."O, mamma!" she said, "if
my dove had been taken sick,
mad died, I could bear it; but it
wam not Gqd, but the .ruel boy,
who killed. ba."
Alboab the bov shot him.

roar bird; but we must see God's
and in his death now, just as
nuch as if be had died in any
Mhr way. Now it is done, you
uas try to be sbmissive. You
mid, 'Thy will be done,' tkis
noning, in yeor prayer, and you
nut try to feel that this is God's
wil, and bear it with a right

But mese sorow yet awaited
oor Emily, as we sl e mi
Ib Net Chapter.


She b down, in her pi to die."
IT caused Emily, and indeed
all the family, great gie to ee
the sadnese of the poor widowed
dove. She. would not eat, al-
though they tried to tempt her
with everything nie that she had
ever loved. Her fixed, sonowful
eye seemed to expems all the
Morw that human eyes could.
Soon after this, Ib *Dpeat
called to see the family, and they
told him of Sela's loss, and of
Serena's sorrow. He said he
had some more ring-doves, and
that he would send one of them

over, to cheer Serena, and keep
her company.
Emily was glad to hear that
Berena was to have another com-
panion; and she felt very much
obliged to Mr. Dupont, and quite
light-hearted at the prospect of
having her loss made up to her.
So the same French servant
who had brought over the first
doves came bowing into the par-
lor with the second.
The bird he brought was so
much like BelS that you could
not tell them apart.
He was put into the cage, and
walked up to Serena, as much as
to say,
How do you do this morn-
ing? I am glad to see you. I

-- =- -- 7 -- 0
company for each other."
But poor Serena turned, and
seemed to look soorofully, and
walked off to the furthest owner
of the cage, away from the strange
bird. He followed her, and she
became very angry; and, at
length, let him know that she
would not be spoken to by him;
nol that she would love her dear
Bela for ever, ead nobody else.
When the new bird found this,
he stopped saying anything mor
to her; and, finding it not very
pleasant to stay where he was
not wanted, he tried to get out
of the cage. When Emiy's fa-
ther found that Berena would not
be reoonciled to her new acquaint.

ane, he ws obliged to take him
out of the cage.
Then poor Serena did not
move afterward, but remained
very quiet, without eating any-
thing, until her eye that bad
been so bight and happy, were
all filmed over, and she died.
I do not think there was one
person in the house that did not
ery when they heard that poor
Serena was dead. Emily aid,
O, Iwill neverlove maythig
in the word o wel again! Per
haps it was because I thought of
my doves in the church, and
when I was saying my prqers,
and at other times, when I ought
to have thought of God, that they
have died."

her came home from boarding-
ichool. He was sorry for his
little sister's affliction.
He said,
My little sister, we will bury
he poor doves together. They
oved each other when living too
vell to be separated now they
are dead."
Then Stanley opened the grave
a which his father had buried
ela, and buried Serena with
im; while Emily shed many
Bars. He also set up a little
lead-stone, with some lines on
t, telling of the love of the pretty
loves for each other. *
Then he showed Emily how
D dig some green sod with her


little spade, and place it over thi
grave. It was a comfort to he
to do this.
They were buried in a pretty
shady spot, and Emily planted
many flowers around their grave
When Emily grew to be i
large girl she did not forget the
lesson which had been taught
her through her little doves. I
she began to love anything to
well, or to let her thoughts rm
too much after anything she en
joyed, she would remember bov
easily she might be deprived ol
what she set her heart upon
And she learned many passage
of Scripture, which her mamml
found her, that tell of God's pun

departure, in heart, from him.
They were such as these:
Thine own wickedness shall
correct thee, and thy backlidings
shall reprove thee: know there-
fore that it is an evil thing and
bitter, that thou hast forsaken the
Lord thy God, and that my fear
is not in thee, saith the Lord God
of hots." Jer. ii, 19. Thou hast
forsaken me, saith the Lord, thou
art gone backward; therefore will
I stretch out my hand against
thee, and destroy thee." Jer. xv, 6.


I wal beside thee to the chuh,
My little haud eMulp'd n thiw;
And imitate thy rev'1end mien,
When lifting to the wol diviM.
And them, on my rentm, I I
The holy book, with artlm e,
And, rating t upon thy lap,
Proceed to read th tent to tee.
THERE was one sabbath, spen
with her dear mamma, whici
Emily always loved to think of.
When she was far away fon
that happy home, a grown-u]
girl the remembrance of it wounl
bring tears to her eyes.
It was a bright sabbath, i
June; the first Sunday. in th

sarly in the morning, by the song
>f the birds whose nests were in
.he plum-trees below her win-
low. All else was still around
her. She lived in the midst of
i thickly settled town; but the
sabbath was kept holy there.
Good ministers preached in the
churches, and taught their people
to "remember the sabbath-day
to keep it holy."
In Emily's house there was no
noise or bustle on that day.
Emily lifted the white muslin
curtain that shaded her window,
and saw the flowers in the gar-
den shining through the glittering
dew-drops, and the grassy fields
looking as if they were covered
with silver sDandles.

She thought of some texts he
dear mother had taught her
They were such as these:
"All thy works shall praise
thee:" and, Thou crownest the
year with thy goodness; and thj
paths drop fatness." Psa. lxiv, 11
0 TLml. hnw manifold am

mg Jpumy rwuMO u o au mun
*b heard ead. She almost
etl bhself when she heard of
Miry Magdalene standing by the
mpulhre, weeping for her Lord.
Thenthatbeautiulwdord Mary,"
spoken to her, in loving tones, by
her dewr Redeemer, 0 how it
tfected Emyily! Emily always
thought thi one of the most
beaiful chapters in the Bible;
and, fom that time, she-begged
terfathealways to read it in the
family of a Sunday moving.
After he was dreiud, Kmily
took her book, and weat into her
mother's room. She ws early
covered by the w idow-crapo,
kaik "t h. tha Aml I- L.A,

ma m& A

little chair. HBt mother eame
in, but she did not see Emily.
hmily saw her mother go to the
head of the bed, and kneel down
by a chair to pray. She hbmd
her pray that God would be with
her through the day, and that he
would bless her when she par-
took of the Lord's supper, on
that day. Then she praypd od
to blew her chbden. ULttle
Emily kept very s til, but he
MWy motherprays fo me. 1
I ought to be good because God
has given me a mother to piay
for me, and to teach me to do
Ehily always ae*mAbegfdhAO
Mrwr nf her m Ia!h. I I-'

-I I" 1I.

That morning she went to
church with her dear parents,
and heard a missionary preach
about the prodigal son.
He told how a naughty boy
left his father's house, and went
into a far country, and wasted
his property. And when he had
spent all, and was very hungry,
he thought of the comfortable
home and the kind father he had
left. Then he said, "I will go
to my father;" and the poor boy,
hungry and nearly naked, set off
to return to his parent's house.
As he went along, he thought,
Perhaps they will not let me
come into their house, because I
have been so wicked: when they
see me coming. they may sav.

" The boy who treated us so
badly, and left us when we were
old, and since then has led a
wicked life in a far country, is
coming back. He does not de-
serve to be treated kindly. We
will shut the door, and not let
him come into our house."
These thoughts came into the
poor boy's mind all the way that
he walked, trembling, on the road
that led to his father's house.
That is his father's house. He
sees it now. It is a beautiful
place. Olive-trees, with their
pale green leaves, grow beside it.
There, too, is the tall palm-tree,
and there are the clustering
grapes, covering the lattice. The
fig-tree is there, with its ripening


its beautiful seeds, so refreshing
to the parched lips of the traveler.
Under those trees the poor,
sick, tired boy sees two people
sit Those persons are his father
and mother. They look down
the road, and, "while he is yet
afar off," they see their son com-
ing slowly along. He is ragged,
and he is so weak that he trem
Ll- .. I...--11_L. 1MT. 4Ts =--

My heart is very sad for him;
for I love and pity him still
Poor boy! if he weuld return, I
would open my arms to receive
him again. I would forgive
what he has done, and love him
as well as ever. But who is that
moving so slowly along? See!
aee! that poor, tired, dusty one,
on the road. Look! he comes
this way. O, if that should be
or llonglost boy! It looks me-
thing like him. see, he weep!
He looks at u. It.is he! it is
he! It is my son, my prodigal
but my still dear son."
Aad the fatlhe hastened to
meet hi0m while the mother was


faint and trembling with joy.
The father ran to meet him,
" while he was yet a great way
off" He put his arms around
him. He hugged him to his
bosom, all covered with rags as
he was. He kissed his stained
and tearful cheeks: and the son
Father, I have sinned against
heaven, and in thy sight, and am
no more worthy to be called thy
Then the father led him to the
house, and had his rags taken of
and had him washed in pure wa-
ter, and clothed in goodly raiment,
and rejoiced over his son.
Thus did the good minister
tell the story of the prodigal son.

Emily listened with the greatest
attention. She thought she had
never heard anything so interest-
ing. But she felt more deeply
when the missionary went on to
speak of what I shall tell you in
the next chapter.



THE minister went on to say
that this parable showed us the
great love of God to man. If an
earthly father felt such pity for
his poor wandering child, how
much more pity did God feel for
his sinful creatures. He has
showed his great love by giving
Jess to die for s; and ye who
sometimes were far off are made
nigh by the blobd of Christ"
Eph. ii, 13.
Then he spake so touchingly
of what Christ had done for man,
that Emily could not help crying,

She wished she was better. She
knew that there was much in her
that was wrong. She wished
that she loved God more; and,
as she sat in her pew, she prayed
to him to make her his child.
She thought she would go to
God like the penitent son of
whom she had just been hearing,
and she felt that God would not
turn her away from him.
That day she did what she had
never done before: she observed
and remembered what was said
to God's people when they took
the sacrament of the Lord's sup-
per. She did not go out of the
church at that time. Her mam-
ma always wished her to remain.
When the minister was going

to give the bread and wine to the
good people, he said,
Once I did some service to
a warm-hearted man. He aid
to me,' Every drop of my blood
thanks you; and, if I could, I
would lay down my ife for you.'
We are now going to think of
Him who did lay down his life
for us; whose blood was shed to
take away our transreions,
and to deliver us from our sins."
Mach more he said, in the
course of the morning, which
made Emily feel more and more
that she wanted to love God, and
to serve the dear Saviour, of
whom she had been hearing.
When she went home she
went up into her room, and

prayed that her sine might be
forgiven, aad that she might
choose God's service for eve.
The next morning the good
minister called to say farewell to
Emily's parents. He was goig
a great distance away. He lived
many hundred miles from then
Emily sat upon her little chair,
and listened to his words. They
were gentle, and kind, and piou
Emily thought that she had never
before known any one so good.
She was sorry that she should
see him no me. When he
went away be bl-d her, and
Ido, My dear e gkl, Re-
rimbe yew CeCatr hi the days
of your youth.'"
Emilv never told anv one how

_~1_ _

muoh she loved this good old
minister; but she often thought
of his holy words. little chil-
dren feel many things that they
do not speak of; and when min.
isots are visiting at their houses,
they take a great deal of notice
of what they say and do. If
they love children, and interest
them, they may often do them
much good.



- & w a A~l

THE good minister whom we
have spoken of used to tell many
interesting stories. He had tra-
veled a great deal. When he
traveled it was always to do good.
He did not go across the ocean to
find the heathen. He found them
in our own land. When he was
a young man, a part of our
country, which is now covered
with fine cities, was a large,
dreary forest. He lived to see
te tall trees cut down, and beau-
Il houes built where they once
stood. There are now fine turn-
nike moid where once waee only


paths, through which he could
scarcely push his horse for the
thick underwood and the wild
forest vines.
He remembered how often he
would meet the Indian in those
spots where now his name is
sparely known. Ah! the poor
Indians! Pity them, children,
and pray for them, and deny
yourselves, that you may send
the gospel to them. Once they
owned the rich forests, the rush-
ing dvers, and the silvery lakes,
which w now call our own.
But the white man wa crmel.
He robbed the Indiaof al He
sent him fr away fhro the
of his fathers; and he has made
the spirit of the Indian ead.


omfot him with the words f
our Saviour. Help these good
men, my dear children, in every
way that you can; and pray that
God would bless and comfort the
wandering, homeless Indian.
Mr. Blackburn, the missionary,
told the parents of Emily this
story, which Emily libteed to
with much pleare, as ahe at
upon her little chair, beside him,
md which we will now try to
make very plain to ou litt
reader, although it was told by
the gentleman to grown up peo-
ple in les simple language than
we use to you.
In the state of Tenmeae me

some high mountains, called the
Cumberland mountains. Among
6ese were once living some peo-
ple who did not fear God, nor
keep his commandments. Sun-
day was to them like any other
.day. They had no ministers
living among them. They drank
whisky, played cards, and did
many other things that God has
forbidden; and they died with-
out knowing anything about the
blessed Saviour, whom God has
given that the children of men
may "not perish, but have ever-
lasting life. John iii, 16.
The settlement, or town, as
they called it, lay surrounded by
high mountains on three sides;
on the fourth side flowed a rapid


river, in wmenI were wua sea
naming cascades.
Many of the people who lived
iere, indeed most of them, were
hose who had been guilty of
ximes which would have brought
hem to a prison, or caused them
to lose their lives, if they had not
escaped to this place, which we
shall call Bock-Cove, although
this is not its real name.
The children of these people
grew up as wicked as their pa-
rents. They had no Bibles, o
religious instruction. They were
" without God, and without hope
in the world."
Some good ministers met to-
gether, at one time; and, among
other things, they spoke of the

9g SALYT DarI.
wickedness and misery of the
people of Bock-Cove.
They said,
It is dreadful that these peo-
ple should remain so ignorant of
all that is good, while they are
living in a Christian land. We
must go and preach to them."
So one after another of these
good men went to Rock-Cove to
preach the gospel to the people
there. But they would not listen
to it. The ministers bad to leave,
without being allowed to preach
at alL The people at the Cove
tied squibs to their horses' tails;
they threw disagreeable things at
them; they laughed at them;
and, if they still tried to preach,
they made sucb a noise with

horns and old tin kettles that they
could not be heard at all.
So, after trying many timr to
instruct the people of Rock-Cove,
these minister gave them up, for
a while, to "blindness of mind
and hardness of heart"
In the mean time, Mr. Black.
bum's preaching had done much
good to others. Like Stephen
of old, he was "fall of faith and
power" So, some years after
any attempt had been made to
preach to the Book-Cove people,
he one day met with his brother
ministers, who said to him,
"Many of us ham tried to
preach to these poor ignorant
ones; but they would not listen
to us. Now, brother, you are


me man 0uo o em goon. xon
must go to them."
Now, Mr. Blackburn never
neglected any opportunity to do
good; so he answered,
If you think I ought, I will
go and preach to these people;
and I trust God will open their
hearts to receive his own word."
Mr. Blackburn knew he could
do nothing without the help of
the Lord; and so he went to him
in prayer. He asked him to pre.
pare the hearts of the people to
receive his gospel, and to assist
him when he went thither. We
shall see how God answered his
He got upon his horse, and
set off for the Cove. His way


lay, brst, through a ttcl wood.
There was hardly a path for his
horse through this forest. He
told of the tangled vines that
grew there, spreading themselves
from tree to tree until they seem-
ed to form beautiful leafy bowers;
and of the squirrels that ran about
among the trees; and of the sweet
birds, whose pleasant song seem-
ed to him like the music of old,
when the heavenly host sang,
"Glory to God in the highest;
peace on earth, and good will to
He was going to carry peace
and good will to a settlement
ignorant of God, who might yet
glorify his name. This thought
filled him with joy, and the Lord


spoke most sweetly to his heart,
a he went on his lonely way,
singing hymns to his praise.
At length he left the woods,
and rode along a high hill which
hemmed in a rapid stream. His
path was narrow and .slippery;
but his good horse was as much
used as himself to wild ways,
and did not fall It would have
been dreadful if he had; for the
liff on which he rode was steep,
and be might have been plunged
into the foaming river below.
But He who gives his angels
charge over the righteous, lest at
any time they dash their foot
against a stone, preserved our
good missionary in his danger
ous path.


TaHnOoH these wild wood
Mr. Blackburn journeyed; and

k W.MW tWaLV

irouna te aoor.
In the room which he entered
were several men, sitting around
a table, drinking rum and water,
smoking pipes and segars, and
telling stories.
Mr. Blackburn was not dressed
in black, as ministers generally
are. He wore a bome-made suit
of gray cloth; and the people did
not know that be was a preacher.
He drew a chair up to the ta-
ble, with the rest qf the company,
and told several stories which in-
terested them very much.
They asked Mr. Blackburn to
take a glass of rum and water.
He said,
No. I thank vou. I do not


drink ram; but I will take
glass of water with you."
They told him to do a 1I
liked, and handed him the water
He saw a house with a be
standing on the other side of t1
street. He asked the men wh
it was used for. They said
was used for all their atherinq
together in Rock-Co., 'R!
Blackburn made himself ve
pleasing to them, by telling the
many stories of his trvebl, w
then asked them if they ever lh
any preaching there. They 'sa
no; that minister would have
hard time among them; and tb1
though they used to try to get
among them, they had all g
frightened away; and that noi


Mr. Blackburn said,
I heard that one was coming
to preach to you to-day."
They all laughed, and aid that
a preacher would show a good
deal of courage to come among
Mr. Blackburn said,
Well, I think if he comes we
had better go to hear him. You
ill go, won't you?"
They aid,
If as clever a fellow as you
would come along, and preach
to us, we would go and hear him."
The minister replied,
0, I dare say, .as clever a
fellow as I am will preach."

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