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THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE.GALL & INGLIS.Tlonboin: O(binburgh:'80 PATERNOSTER ROW. (i GEORGE STREE T.
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CONTENTS.PAOBOaCP. I.-FILIAL DISOBEDIENCE, 5* II.--TH COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE, 13* III.-TRYING TO BE OBEDIENT, 39. IV.-SELF-CONFIDENCE, 42"r V.-COMFORT IN TROUBLE, .51"* VI.-THE WARNING SLIGHT. 59* VII.-A VISIT IN ANTICIPATION, 69* VIII.-AWAY FROM IHOM, 77* IX.-A DAY OF LIBERTY, 87* X.-HOME-SICK, 104. XL-HOMn AoAI, 110
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OR,THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE.CHAPTER I.FILIAL DISOBEDIENCE."Children obey your parents in all things."" SHUT the door, Fanny; the air is tocchill for the baby."Fanny continued intently examining someloose engravings-the contents of a portfoliowhich lay upon her lap-as if entirely uncon-scious of her mother's command."Shut the door, Fanny," again repeatedMrs Raymond in a louder tone.This time Fanny ceased her close investi-gation, and began hastily assorting the pic-
6 FANNY RAYMOND.tures; placing some on-one side of the port.folio, and some upon another, and still with-out speaking."Fanny, shut the door instantly, and don'toblige me to speak to you again," said MrsRaymond in so decided a manner that Fannyfelt that it would not be safe to delay anylonger, and quickly laying aside the portfolio,she arose and did as her mother had re-quested.She was about resuming her seat andformer occupation, when Mrs Raymond pre-vented it by saying," Put away those pictures, Fanny, and comehere to me."Fanny obeyed with evident reluctance, andher mother continued,"Do you think you have been acting right,this morning, Fanny?"Fanny hung her head, and replied faintly,"I don't know.""Do you think you have been obedient?"again inquired Mrs Raymond."I did shut the door," Fanny answered ina surly tone."Yes, you obeyed at last; but I will tellyou how and why you did so," said Mrs
FILIAL DISOBEDIENCE. 7Raymond. " I spoke to you twice, before youtook the least notice of what I said, and whenI repeated my command the third time, andyou knew by my manner that it would not doto disobey any longer, the fear of punishmentled you to do then, what you ought to havedone from a better motive at first. If youhad been quite certain that no unpleasanteffect would have followed to yourself, I feelpretty sure that you would have continued indisobedience.""I wanted to look at the pictures," Fannymuttered with the same sullen expression ofcountenance."That was no good reason for your dis-obeying me," replied her mother; "and youcould easily have looked at the pictures anothertime.""I was afraid that they might get mixed,and I would not know which I had seenand which I had not; so I wanted to putthem all right before I laid down the port-folio," said Fanny."Repeat the fifth commandment, Fanny,"said her mother.Fanny hesitated ; her stubborn will rebelledstrongly against obeying this time; but as
8 FANNY RAYMOND.she knew that she must do it, she com-menced in a low unwilling tone-" Honour thy father and thy mother; thatthy days may be long on the land which theLord thy God giveth thee.""That is a very direct and plain command,"said Mrs Raymond; "but this is the way youwould like to have it read: 'Honour thy fatherand thy mother, when it is quite convenient.'Yet such a commandment as that would be oflittle use in the world; for little girls of yourdisposition would not often find it convenientto obey their parents, I am afraid."Instead of. appearing in the least sorry forher misconduct, Fanny was looking veryangry, and if she had dared to do it, shewould have spoken out some of the rebelliousfeelings which were existing in her heart.Mrs Raymond saw this, and felt it to be herduty to correct it."I am very sorry, Fanny," she said, "tosee that you will not be convinced that youhave done wrong, and as a punishment I donot intend to allow you to look at that port-folio for the rest of the day."Fanny left the room, crying with anger anddisappointment, and her mother placed the
'lLIAL DISOBEDIENCE. 9portfolio on an upper shelf of a large closetnear. As she did so, her countenance wore atroubled expression, and a tear trembled inher eye. Fanny had been away from homefor several months, during a severe spell ofsickness with which her mother had beenafflicted, and now she was quite out of lead-ing strings-not having been kept underproper restraint during her absence. MrsRaymond still looked very delicate, andseemed scarcely able to contend with her dis-obedient daughter; but she was a judiciousChristian mother, and felt herself called upon,even through bodily weakness, to obey theinjunction, " Train up a child in the way heshould go;" remembering the warning words,"a child left to himself bringeth his motherto shame." Her heart was oppressed withsadness at the thought of her daughter's dis-obedience, and she longed to unburthen it;not to any human ear, but to her Father inheaven: so she knelt down and prayed ear-nestly that God would give her strength todo her duty, and that He would make Fannya better and more obedient child.In the meantime Fanny, having soughtsome spot where -she could be alone, was
10 FANNY RAYMOND.musing over the matter with bitter and wickedfeelings against her mother, quite regardlessof the pain she had occasioned her. Onewould have thought, to witness the indignantand angry expression which burned upon herface, that it was she who had been offended.There were strange thoughts passing throughher brain, as she sat there in the solitudewhich she had chosen. Now she was think-ing how nice it would be to have amother who would allow her, to do exactlywhat she wanted, without reminding her ofthe fifth commandment so constantly; andagain imagining to herself the holiday lifeshe should lead if it were possible for her tobreak loose from all parental restraint, anLlive by herself, with no one to interferewith her. Foolish child! As if in all theworld she could anywhere find amusementor pleasure that would make up for the lossof her mother's loving care and tender inte-rest in her welfare !She began anxiously watching from theparlour windows for her father's return home:this was not done on account of the strongaffection which she felt for him, but from a
FILIAL DISOBEDIENCE. 11wicked desire of putting in practice a planwhich she had designed to thwart her mother.At the usual hour, she saw him come up thesteps, and apply his key to the door. In amoment she was in the entry, by his side,with the request,"Father, may I look at the pictures inthe portfolio which you brought home yes-terday?""Certainly, my dear, I brought them foryour benefit," replied her unsuspectingparent.Fanny went immediately into the nursery,and as her mother had left it by this time,and there was no one present 6o interferewith her purpose, she mounted a chair andhanded down the portfolio from its restingplace. There was but little satisfaction inlooking at the pictures now, for her mind wasdisturbed by the reproaches of conscience forthe wrong which she had done; yet she lookedat them steadily, and tried to be pleased.While thus engaged, Mrs Raymond enteredthe room. As soon as she observed heremployment, she exclaimed in some sur-prise:-
12 FANNY RAYMOND."Is it possible, Fanny, that you are dis-obeying me so soon again ? I told you dis-tinctly that you were not to have thosepictures to-day.""Father said I might," replied Fanny, verypromptly."Did you tell him that I had forbiddenit ?" inquired Mrs Raymond.Before Fanny had time to reply, her fatherhimself made his appearance. As soon ashe comprehended the matter, he said in aserious tone:-"You have been a very bad child to-day,Fanny. You knew perfectly well that I wouldnot have given you permission to look atthose pictures, if I had understood the circum-stances, and you did very wrong in asking forthe portfolio. We are going to ride out thisafternoon, and I had intended taking youwith us, but now, as a punishment for yourbad behaviour, you must be left at home."Fanny pleaded very hard for forgiveness; butas it was easy to perceive that her anxietyarose from regret at the prospect of losing theride, and not from sorrow for her misconduct,Mr Raymond remained firm in his decision,advising her to repent sincerely of her sin,
THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. 13and to ask God to give her a new heart, will-ing to obey His commandments.Now, when too late, Fanny saw the folly ofher conduct. If she had been willing to havesubmitted quietly to her mother's punishment,she might have spent a very pleasant afternoonwith her parents, instead of being obliged tostay at home in disgrace.CHAPTER II.THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE." Honour thy father and thy mother, (which is the firstcommandment with promise.) That it may be wellwith thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth.""FATHER, which is the commandment withpromise? Miss Clark spoke of it to-day, butI did not know which one she meant," saidFanny Raymond one day."If you think a little while, I imagine youwill find out for yourself," replied her father:" as of course it means the one which promisessomething to those who obey it."" It can't be the first," mused Fanny, in anundIer tone, repeating it slowly. "Nor the
14 FANNY RAYMOND.second," she continued, after a moment's re-flection. "Nor the third, for it threatens,instead of promising; nor the fourth."Here her voice grew quite indistinct as shecame to the fifth commandment."Ah, I have it, father," she added, with abrightening countenance, delighted at havingat last found it out. It must be the fifth:Honour thy father and thy mother: that thydays may be long on the land which the Lordthy God giveth thee?""Yes, that is it," Mr Raymond answered," and in another part of the Bible it reads:'that it may be well with thee, and that thoumayest live long on the earth,' which meansthe same thing."" I always-at least ever since I was a verylittle girl-knew the fifth commandment, butI did not think of its being called by thatname," said Fanny, a little annoyed at her owndulness."- Do you believe that God always speaks thetruth Fanny? And that He will perform allthat He promises " inquired her father." Oh yes, sir," replied Fanny, surprised atthe question: "don't you remember the minis-ter's text last Sunday, which you made me
THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. 15learn when we came home from church?' God is not a man that he should lie; nor theson of man that he should repent; hath hesaid, and shall he not do it? or hath he spoken,and shall he not make it good?'""I wonder then that you do not try to ob-tain the promiseby obeying the commandment,"Mr Raymond answered. "But there arethreatening to the disobedient as well as pro-mises to the obedient," he continued, "andone that I remember now upon this very sub-ject-' The eye that mocketh at his father, anddespiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of thevalley shall pick it out, and the young eaglesshall eat it.'"Hard, wicked thoughts were rising inFanny's heart against the truth of God. "Idon't believe eagles eat out naughty children'seyes," she muttered to herself, in words toolow for any one but God to hear.Her father guessed something of what waspassing in her heart, although she was quitesilent, and he said,"This is a dreadful threatening, Fanny; itdoes not mean that savage birds will pick outthe eyes of all disobedient children, but itdoes mean that God sincerely hates this sin.
16 FANNY RAYMOND.and that He will certainly punish it in someequally painful manner: if not in this life, inthe life which is to come, unless it is repentedof and pardoned for Je-us' sake."Fanny was about to reply, but checkedherself, and Mr Raymond inquired,"What is it, Fanny?"" I was only going to say, father, that Ithought all good children died when they wereyoung, and the promise says that they shalllive a long time.""I think you are mistaken there, Fanny,"Mr Raymond replied."Why, father, I have read a great manyhistories of good children, who died soon, andnever one memoir of a bad boy or girl.""I will tell you how that is," said herfather. "Averylarge number of bad boys.andgirls die every year, and some from theeffect of their own misconduct: but no onelikes to publish the faults of the dead, sonothing is said of it. On the other hand,when good children die, it is pleasant to talkof their virtues, and very often some kindperson writes a book about them, for the pur-pose of comforting the hearts of those wholoved them, and to set an example for others
THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. 17to follow. If you were to read the lives ofmany good men and women, who lived to bevery old, you would find that they had beenobedient and respectful to their parents. Doyou remember what caused Lucy Simpson'sdeath last spring?"" Yes, sir, she ate a great many sour goose-berries and made herself sick," replied Fanny."And her mother had expressly forbiddenit," Mr Raymond continued; "so you see,Fanny, if Lucy Simpson had not been a badand disobedient child, she would probablyhave been living at this time. I could notcount the number of deaths which I haveknown to result from this very cause. I re-collect perfectly well two boys who were myfellow pupils at school, and became constanttruant players. Their father found it out anddetermined to watch them closely to preventit if possible, and for awhile, from dread ofpunishment, they began to come very regu-larly to school. But as soon as they supposedhim to be off his guarc, they again commencedthe practices, and one afternoon, as we weregoing home from school, we met some mencarrying their dead bodies to their friends.They had been drowned in the river, havingB
18 FANNY RAYMOND.been upset in a small boat in which they hadbeen sailing. All little girls and boys whoare disobedient to their parents do not die per-haps just as Lucy Simpson and those truantsdid, but unless they repent they may alwaysbe sure of being punished for this sin. Some.times children go on eating things which theyare told disagree with them, untilthey losetheir health, and die before they are very old;and sometimes truants live to grow up to bebad men, whom no one can love, and who arevery unhappy, and who perhaps die early fromthe effect of the bad habits which they haveformed in their idle boyhood, when theyshould have been preparing to lead a usefullife."Mrs Raymond came into the room, andMr Raymond repeated the substance of hisconversation with Fanny." I can tell Fanny some true stories on thisvery subject," replied her mother, " and I haveone already written down which I will read toher some time."" Please read it to me now, mother," saidFanny, always glad to listen to a story."Nut just now," Mrs Raymond answered," for I have some household matters to attend
THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. 19to, and only stopped here for a moment on myway to the kitchen; but I will come back inabout half an hour, and will be glad to let youhear it then."Fanny was obliged to be satisfied, and atthe appointed time Mrs Raymond returnedwith the manuscript, and almost immediatelyP.ommenced." There were two cousins, Emma and GraceHoward. Emma was an only child, and verymuch indulged by her parents. There wasscarcely anything that she wished for, whichcould be granted by any possibility, that wasdenied her. Her mother was a gentle, butweak-minded woman, whose main object inlife was to gain the love of her daughter, andshe dreaded to punish her, lest this should bewithheld. But, as might be supposed, she didnot succeed, and instead of receiving theaffectionate gratitude which she had expected,Emma was ungrateful and exacting, and soselfish, as constantly to pain the heart of hermother, without feeling the least degree of re-morse for her conduct. She had learned to re-gard her own foolish whims and fancies as of thegreatest possible consequence, and her mother'scomfort and happiness of no account whatever.
20 FANNY RAYMOND." Grace had been favoured with judiciousparents, who endeavoured to train her up inthe right way. They were pious people andstrove to do their duty to her, teaching herwhat was right, and correcting her when shedid wrong. Grace soon began to profit bythese instructions and admonitions, and beforeshe reached womanhood, she gave her heart tothe Saviour. Her father died when she wasbut sixteen, leaving a property quite toosmall to maintain his family. Then it wasthat the Christian character of Grace shewedout most beautifully. She was the eldestchild, and there were five younger ones to beprovided for, and Mrs Howard was extremelyanxious and very much troubled about themGrace soon perceived this, and determined todo what she could to help her mother, andvery soon formed a plan upon the subject,which she only waited for the proper time toput in practice."'You will have a very small income, mydaughter: so small that I fear it will scarcelysupport you even with the strictest economy,"said Mrs Howard one day, when Grace wasbusily engaged in thinking over these things."'I think, mother, that in a little while I
THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. 21shall be able to do without the whole of myincome-at least I hope that I shall,' Gracereplied with slight hesitation."'What do you mean, Grace?' her motherinquired in some surprise."Then Grace unfolded her plan, which wasthis : that as her education and acquirementsfitted her for it, she should support herself byteaching and leave her own income to bedivided among the younger ones, that theymight have the same advantages as she hadenjoyed. Mrs Howard was delighted withthis proof of her daughter's unselfishness, butfeared that she had hardly counted the cost;that she had not considered the many difficul-ties and sad annoyances which she mustendure while carrying out her plan. Underthis impression, she faithfully laid before Gracea full statement of these, telling her that shehad better think over the matter carefully fora week, before making up her mind."Grace did ponder over the difficultieswhich her mother had mentioned, and oncewas half resolved to give up her plan, andconsent to receive the portion of her father'sproperty which belonged to her. It washer own, she had a right to it, and why
22 FANNY RAYMOND.should she not reap its advantages? shereasoned ; but a sight of her mother's palecountenance, and the innocent faces of heryounger brothers and sisters, made her pause.Grace had not been brought up to considerher own comfort and ease as of most import-ance: she had been early taught to practiseself-denial, and she had learned from theexample of her Saviour not to please herself.So she knelt down and prayed that God wouldgive her strength to do her duty, and followthe rule laid down by the apostle: 'We thenthat are strong ought to bear the infirmitiesof the weak, and not to please ourselves.'"Her prayer was heard; she cheerfully gaveup her income, and for many years labouredfor her own support, and was her mother'scomfort and sympathiser in every trouble.God has been very kind to Grace in blessingher efforts to do good. She has lived to seeher younger brothers and sisters grow up torespectability and usefulness, and with heartsfull of gratitude to her, for her kindness andgenerosity to them. Her own children areobedient, and give promise of being all thatshe could wish them: and I think I knowof no one among all my acquaintances, who is
THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. 25more beloved, or has had a larger amount ofhappiness in this world, than cousin Grace."" Are you sure her name is Grace, mother ?"inquired Fanny, her countenance brighteningup with sudden animation," No, I am sure that her name is not Grace,"replied Mrs Raymond; "but why do youask ?""Because when you spoke of her havinggood children, and everybody loving her somuch, and of her being so happy, I instantlythought of aunt Edith; who isn't my rightaunt, although I always call her so," Fannyanswered."Yes, you are right; I have been tellingyou about my aunt Edith," said Mrs Ray-mond."And now, mother, will you please read tome more about your cousin Emma?" inquiredFanny.Mrs Raymond nodded assentingly, butbefore she had time to resume her manuscript,Fanny interrupted her to ask,"Do I know this cousin, too, mother?"Mrs Raymond said, "No," and commencedreading."Emma, as I before told you, was trained
24 FANNY RAYMOND.very differently from Grace, and she grew upvery differently. Her father met with somelosses, which reduced his income, and madethem much poorer, and instead of striving tobe contented with less, and cheering him inhis trouble by her gentleness and dutiful be-haviour, she added to it greatly by her un-reasonable complaints at being deprived ofthe luxuries to which she had been accustomed.Her father's health began to fail, but his pale,sorrow-stricken face did not produce any re-formation, and she was just as bad as ever,and sadly neglected him in his sick-room,leaving to her mother the whole burden ofattending to his wants. After a few monthshe died, and although she wept some tears,yet they were soon dried, and her heart wasno softer or less selfish than before. In herblind partiality, Mrs Howard denied herselfmany things, and used the money thus savedto purchase something which she imaginedmight gratify her daughter. But instead ofbeing grateful for this, Emma took it quite asa matter of course, or complained that thearticle was not just the kind she liked."One day Emma came home from a longwalk, very much overheated, and seated herself
THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. 25nnon the stone step of a door leading into theyard, to enjoy the cool evening air." Emma, it is not safe for you in thatdraught of air; sit inside of the door,' saidher mother."'It is delightful here, and just as safe asany other place,' Emma replied, in a carelesstone."Mrs Howard remonstrated and urgedagain and again, but Emma was too self-willed to yield to any one, and she gave up indespair."The air was cool and chilly the nextmorning, quite a contrast to the sultriness ofthe preceding day: but Emma persisted ingoing out as thinly clad as usual. At nightshe went to bed with a headache, and awakenedin the morning so hoarse as to be scarcelyable to speak so as to be understood. MrsHoward prepared various simple remedies,and tried to persuade her to stay in the housein damp weather; but Emma positively re-fused to take the remedies, and with her ac-customed wilfulness, seemed to delight inteasing her mother by :lkipg out in thinslippers, even on rainy days. Her hoarsenessdisappeared somewhat, but the cough conti-
26 FANNY RAYMOND.nued, with increased violence. Months passedwithout producing any change for the better,and Mrs Howard became so much alarmedas to propose calling in a doctor."Emma experienced a selfish sort of satis-faction in witnessing the large amount ofattention which she had excited: but notthinking herself dangerously ill, she stronglyobjected to being placed under a doctor's careHer mother yielded to her for a few days, andthen sent privately for the family physician.He came; shook his head; wondered thatsomething had not been done before, and de-parted leaving a prescription which was to bestrictly followed. Emma was very angry ather mother for having acted contrary to herwishes. While the doctor was present shehad contrived to hide her feelings, but nowthat he was gone, she scolded, and used suchwords as should never have passed her lipseven to one of her own age, and which, ofcourse, were wicked when addressed to aparent. Mrs Howard bore it all patiently,and said nothing but soothing things inreturn, for she was afraid Emma's anger mightincrease her disease. She was leaving the
TIE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. 27room with the prescription in her hand, whenEmma called her back."' Let me look at that prescription, mother,'she said."Mrs Howard handed it to her. She tookit, and almost in the same moment twistingit and tearing it to atoms, threw them into atumbler of water, which had been placed upona stand near by. Immediately Mrs Howardcomprehended the extent of the mischiefwhich had been done. NotwithstandingEmma's disobedience and ingratitude, she stillloved her more than anything else on earth,and her health was of more importance to herthan aught else. The doctor had seemed tothink her to be seriously ill, and the want ofthis medicine might cost her life. Impressedwith this idea, she determined to do all in herpower to prevent any bad effects from follow-ing her daughter's misconduct; and shequietly left the room for the purpose of put-ting her determination in practice."It was a wet and uncomfortable day, andsuch a one as she never would have chosen ofher own accord to go out in; but mere selfishfeelings were all laid aside where Emma's
28 FANNY RAYMONDhealth was concerned, so she hurriedly put onher bonnet and shawl, and went forth onher errand. As she hastened along, she beganto experience a sense of mortification andannoyance at the thought of asking the doctorfor another prescription, and at the difficultyof accounting to him for the disappearance ofthe one he had left; for she wished to hideEmma's bad behaviour fiom him. She hadreached his office door, but there she hesitated;yet it was only for a moment, for she hadnever yet consulted her own feelings whereher daughter's interest was concerned, and shequickly ascended the steps and rang the bell."'Is Dr Evans at home?' she inquired ofthe young man who opened the door."'No, ma'am,' replied he; 'he left hereabout half-an-hour ago, for the purpose of tak-ing the train for Baltimore to perform an im-portant surgical operation.'"Mrs Howard was painfully disappointed,but there was a faint hope still left."'Are you quite sure that he has gone?'she inquired; 'he was at my house but littlemore than an hour ago.'"The young man took out his watch andconsulted it, before replying,
THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. 29"'Yes, ma'am; he returned home, afterhaving called upon some of his patients, andstarted in time for the twelve o'clock train,and now he must be a short distance on hisway, for it is ten minutes past twelve.'"'When will he be home again?' she in-quired, faintly."' Not untilto-morrow afternoon,' he replied."All hope was gone now for the present,and Mrs Howard's pale face became yet paleras she felt the truth of this, and turned awayfrom the door. The young man observed hersadness and pitied her."'I will send Dr Evans to you as soon ashe returns,' he said, kindly." Mrs Howard thanked him, and with a sadheart retraced her way home. Emma's illhealth was not the only cause of sorrow to hermother; there was another, and even heavierweight resting upon her heart. She felt as ifshe could have borne to see her only daughtersink down into the grave, certain of neverseeing her again on earth, if she were onlysure that her happiness in heaven was securedby it; for in the course of nature her owndeath could not be very far off, and it wouldbe far better to die assured of her child's
30 FANNY RAYMOND.safety than to leave her alone and unguarded,exposed to the temptations and trials of theworld."The doctor called on his return to thecity, but by that time Emma was much worse.He expressed surprise at this, and inquired ifhis prescription had been taken. Mrs Howardchanged colour, and for a moment seemed ata loss how to answer this question, and thenreplied hesitatingly,"' It was torn and made so indistinct thatit could not be read.'"The doctor raised his eyebrows, with anappearance of astonishment and vexation, butupon seeing Mrs Howard's evident embarrass-ment, he said, somewhat kindly,"' I will try to undo the ill effects of thisdelay, if possible, madam; but be more parti-cular in future, as many a life has been lostfrom mere carelessness.'"A sickness of heart nearly overcame MrsHoward, and the tears filled her eyes, as sheheard these words."' What must the doctor think of me ?' shemurmured to herself; 'he will go away withthe impression that I am a most unnaturalmother.'
THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. 31"But she could not undeceive him andthrow the blame upon her daughter, andEmma would not do so, for even then she wasrejoicing that the suspicion rested upon hermother, rather than on herself. The doctor,quite unconscious of what was going on in thehearts of either of the two, turned towardsher, and taking her hand began to inquire intoher symptoms. Another prescription was left,with another charge to be careful, whichbrought again the flush of shame to MrsHoward's pale face; yet she said nothing, butquietly took the small slip of paper in herhand, as she followed him down stairs, re-solving to take it immediately to the druggistherself, determined that no harm shouldbefal it."The medicine was procured; but anotherdifficulty arose. Emma positively refused totake it, and all her mother's arguments andpersuasions produced no effect. Then MrsHoward saw distinctly the evil she had com-mitted in having allowed her to have her ownway, without placing any restraint upon her.It was Emma's disobedience which had causedher to take cold in the very first instance,when she refused to obey about sitting in the
32 FANNY RAYMOND.draught; and afterwards when she persistedin wearing thin shoes, contrary to all persua-sions. Again in the tearing up of the pres-cription, and now in the obstinacy shewn inrefusing to take medicine. All this might havebeen prevented if she had been taught habitsof obedience when she was young. Poor MrsHoward Now, indeed, yet too late, she sawher error; too late as far as her daughter wasconcerned, but not too late for repentanceherself, and very bitterly did she weep, andmost earnestly did she pray for forgiveness.Eli, of old, was not the only parent whoseheart has been broken by the disobedience ofchildren, whom they did not care to restrainwhen they were young."Emma grew worse, wearing out the pa-tience of both her mother and the doctor,until at last her disease had become confirmedconsumption, and there was no hope of herrecovery. The doctor told her this, and beingsomewhat afraid of him, she listened to itquietly, but as soon as he had left, she spokeher mind freely,"' I am not so very sick, and I will notdie. Dr Evans knows nothing about it,' sheexclaimed in angry tones.
THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. 33"Her mother sat by the bedside, her headburied in the clothes, weeping bitterly andquite comfortless. Her only child was aboutto die; to be taken from her, and sent-where ? Where ?-this question rang fear-fully in her ear, and she could not bear toanswer it even to herself. She would sendfor a clergyman, who would come and teachEmma such things as would fit her for heaven;and then no matter how lonely she would her-self feel, her daughter would be safe andhappy, and this would be a great source ofconsolation. Aroused to a sense of her duty,she endeavoured to calm her sorrow, and whenshe had partly succeeded, she raised her head,and said, in a tolerably clear voice,"' Emma, dear I will send for Mr Blake tocome and talk to you about religious things.He is very kind, and I am sure it would com-fort you very much to listen to him.'"'I will not see him, for I am not goingto die,' was all the answer given; and en-treaty and persuasion could draw no differentone from her." An expression of the doctor's opinion pro-duced one effect upon her; she still insistedupon it, that he was mistaken in her disease;c
S1 FANNY RAYMOND.yet now she was not only willing but anxiousto take any medicine that was ordered. MrsHoward's cheek grew pale with sorrow andconstant watching, and kind friends who sawthis, offered to take her place by her daughter'ssick bed; but Emma obstinately refused tohave any one else wait upon her."- When one is sick they always preferhaving those they love best near to them,'said Mrs Howard once, in Emma's presence,to one who had been most earnest in her offersof assistance."' It is not affection which makes me wishto have you near to me, but you understandwaiting upon me best, and are the proper per-son,' quickly replied the cold-hearted girl"The lady was half inclined to reproveEmma sharply for this unfeeling speech, butdid not do so for fear of adding to the painwhich the poor mother already felt."As her illness continued, and the time ofher death drew nearer, Mrs Howard renewedher entreaties that a clergyman might be sentfor, but Emma was as determined as everagainst it. One day the clergyman, whosechurch they usually attended, called in to seethem of his own accord. Mrs Howard was
THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. 35delighted, and without consulting Emma,invited him to walk up stairs to the sickchamber. Upon hearing the footsteps ap-proaching her room, Emma supposed it to bethe doctor, but when she saw Mr Blake withher mother, she turned away her head in evi-dent displeasure." Mrs Howard's heart sunk within her whenshe saw this, but she quietly advanced towardsthe bedside, and said,"' Mr Blake has kindly called in to see you,Emma.'"Thus called upon, Emma turned slightlyand nodded; yet it was plainly to be seenthat she had no very cordial welcome for him.Mr Blake was not easily deterred from doinghis duty; so without appearing to notice hermanner, he held out his hand, saying, in hisusually kind tone,"' I am very sorry to find you so ill.'"'I am much better to-day,' Emma replied,bluntly."Mrs Howard slipped quietly out of theroom, without heeding Emma's hints that sheshould remain, for she wished to give MrBlake an opportunity of having a private con-versation with her.
O6 FANNY RAYMOND."Mrs Howard was not a Christian, but shehad never any doubts about the truth ofChristianity; and now she was beginning tofeel the necessity of religion, as the only realsource of comfort in affliction. She retired toanother room, and prayed earnestly for herselfand her daughter, until she heard the steps ofMr Blake returning from Emma's chamber.He had but small consolation to offer, for thesick girl had shewn no sorrow for sin, or anyconcern for the welfare of her soul. Beforeleaving, he had a plain conversation with themother upon the subject of religion, and herehe was not disappointed. Her heart washeavy laden with sin and sorrow, and she wasready and anxious to accept of the rest whichthe Saviour offers to all such. When he hadgone, she again sought her daughter; yet withtrembling steps, for she dreaded to meet herafter having disregarded her wishes and lefther alone with the clergyman. Emma did nothear her soft tread, as she entered the room,and she went up to the bed and laid her handupon her forehead. It was rudely pushedaside instantly. The mother's love was toostrong to allow her to be easily repulsed.
THE COMMANDMENT WITH PROMISE. 37"'Is there anything I can do for you, dear?'she said, gently."' Yes; leave me alone,' replied the un-grateful girl, in a surly tone."Mrs Howard retired to another part ofthe room, checking her tears as best she could.For a while Emma lay quite still, as if regard-less of her presence, and then suddenly burstinto a torrent of reproaches against her motherfor introducing the clergyman into the roomagainst her will. Mrs Howard bore thempatiently, and tried to reason with her uponthe necessity of her making some effort toprepare for heaven; but her quiet wordsseemed only to increase the anger of Emma,until she began to fear that the excitementmight cause her to burst a blood-vessel, andceased speaking entirely. She had goodreason to be alarmed, for very soon afterEmma fell back on the bed, completely ex-hausted. She bathed her forehead, and usedsuch remedies as she supposed might benefither, with a mother's untiring patience. Whenthe doctor came, he pronounced her muchworse, and said that it was impossible that shecould live many days longer. This was im-
38 FANNY RAYMOND.parted to her as gently as possible, but shestill obstinately refused to acknowledge herdanger."Mr Blake called frequently, but she grewso angry and excited when told that he was inthe house, that it was thought best not to forcehis visits upon her. But her mother used allher efforts to induce her to think upon seriousthings. She spoke and read of the great loveof the Saviour; but Emma remained un-moved. She explained the duty of submit-ting to the will of God, and seeking salvationthrough Christ; but the disobedient child,who had never learned to yield her stubbornwill to the authority of her earthly parents,was not prepared to submit even to God. Shegrew worse and worse, and at last died insen-sible, and leaving not the least hope in herdeath to comfort her broken-hearted mother.""0 mother! what a sad story!" Fannyexclaimed, when Mrs Raymond laid aside themanuscript: "but is it all true ?""Yes, all," replied Mrs Raymond; "and 1might have told you many more instances ofEmma's bad treatment of her mother, but 1did not wish to make my story too long."Fanny sat still, musing upon Emma's wicked-
TRYING TO BE OBEDIENT. 39ness and ingratitude, and inwardly determiningin her own mind that she would be a muchmore obedient child for the future to her ownkind parents. Fanny's resolution was madein her own strength, and without seeking theassistance of the Lord to enable her to keepit: we shall see how she succeeded.CHAPTER III.TRYING TO BE OBEDIENT."0 MOTHER!" exclaimed Fanny, "I sawMaggie Steel's grandmother scrubbing at thesteps this morning. I told Maggie that 1thought it looked very queer, but she said thatthe Irish girl they hired last week went awayyesterday. But I don't think that a goodexcuse-do you, mother?"" No, I think Mrs Johnson too old a womanto work so hard; especially when she haschildren so well able to support her.""I can't see how Mrs Steel can treat hermother so badly; I am sure I would not doso for the world," said Fanny, in an indignantmanner.
40 FANNY RAYMOND."I think I can tell you why Mrs Steel l;asso little respect for her mother," replied MrsRaymond."Why?" Fanny asked." I remember very well when Mrs Steel wasa child," Mrs Raymond answered: "thefamily lived near to us, and. she was about myown age. Her mother allowed her to haveher own way in almost everything, and waitedupon her, doing many little services for herwhich she ought to have performed for her-self. In this way she became spoiled, andvery soon began to look upon her mothermerely as one whose sole business it was towait upon her and administer to her selfishwants. Once, when we were very young, I re-collect envying Mrs Steel, and wishing that mymother was as easy with me: do you think Iam of the same opinion now, Fanny ?""Oh, no," Fanny replied, quickly; "foryou are so much better than Mrs Steel; andwhen grandma stayed with us, I used to likeso well to see how kind you were to her, andhow anxious you were to make her feel happyand comfortable. Oh, I don't see how youcould, for a moment, wish to change places
TRYING TO BE OBEDIENT. 41with Mrs Steel now, and I am sure I wouldnot have you to be like her, for the world."" And what do you think is the reason whyI differ from Mrs Steel, Fanny," inquired hermother."Because you were taught better, I suppose,"replied Fanny." Yes; our Father in heaven kindly gave meparents who early taught me to do my dutyto Him and to them, and to obey all Hiscommandments," Mrs Raymond answered.Fanny was silent for a few moments; shewas beginning to think that after all it mightbe better for a little girl like herself to haveparents who would compel her to be obedient.Although very often inclined to be wilful anddisobedient, yet she was naturally of a frankand open disposition, and now these betterfeelings were having their influence. She leftlier seat, and going over to her mother's chair,laid her hand upon her shoulder, and said,"I am very glad that I have such a goodmother. I wish you would teach me to belike you.""Ask God, and He will teach you how togrow up to be good, my dear child," repliedMrs Raymond, kissing her soft cheek.
42 FANNY RAYMOND."I don't feel as if I should ever disobeyyou again, mother," said Fanny, returning thecaress; "I think I shall always be good afterthis.""Do not be too sure, Fanny," returnedMrs Raymond, "no one can do what is rightunless they ask God to help them."The heart of Fanny, just then, was righttowards her mother, but it was not towards God.She felt quite confident in her own strength,and very well able to be good without anyother assistance; so her mother's words werequite lost to her.CHAPTER IV.SELF-CONFIDENCE."He that trusteth in his own heart is a fool."FANNY arose the next morning full of hergood resolution. She had no desire to growup to be such a woman as Mrs Steel-whowas not only disrespectful to her poor oldmother, but also unamiable and disagreeablein other respects;-nor to become as wilful
SELF-CONFIDENCE. 43as Emma Howard, and at last share her sadfate.It was a beautiful summer morning. Anearly shower had sprinkled rain-drops uponthe trees and flowers in the garden, which nowsparkled in the bright sunshine like brilliantdiamonds. Fanny stood looking out of thewindow with a happy heart, scarcely consciousthat she saw the beauty spread out before her,and not once thinking of the goodness of Himwho made them all; yet in reality drawingmuch of the happiness which she felt fromthose very objects. Her musings were inter-rupted by her mother's voice at the door."Fanny, I want you to go down to MrHenry's and get me a pound of tea.""Yes, ma'am, I will put on my bonnet andgo immediately," was Fanny's ready reply, andvery soon after she was on the way to thegrocery shop."There, I obeyed mother as promptly as Icould that time," she mused to herself as shewalked along; "and I dare say I shall growvery obedient in a little while. It is not veryhard to be good after all."There was a great deal to be seen at thegrocer's; she liked to look around on the long
4 t FANNY RAYMOND.ranges of boxes, and read the names printedapon the outside, and to watch Mr Henry'squick movements, as he weighed out and tiedup the various packages for his customers, forthe shop was generally well filled. Her teawas soon ready, and she had a pleasant walkhome, which she enjoyed very much. Herheart was full of self-satisfaction as she stoodbefore her mother."I think it is quite nice to be good, mo-ther," she said, smilingly; "and I think Ishall very soon be an obedient girl."Mrs Raymond returned the smile at first,but the next moment her face wore a seriousexpression."Ah, Fanny," she replied; " you must notforget that the heart is very deceitful, and in-clined to sin, and it is only through the graceof God that it can ever be made to love theright."The little girl slowly repeated to herself hermother's words: "The heart is deceitful."" That must mean that it is untrue and not tobe believed," she reasoned; "but I am surethat my heart was not deceitful this time.Mother asked me to go to the shop; it israther a long walk ; yet I obeyed her without
SELF-CONFIDENCE. 45a word, and that was right. Then I did notstop by the way, but hurried home, and thatwas right, too; so it hasn't been false to methis morning, at any rate."The day passed off pretty well on the whole.Fanny did several small things, which herconscience could not quite approve of; yetthese were considered trifles-too small to becounted, and she considered her efforts atbeing good as having proved quite successful.Late in the afternoon, with her mother'spermission, she spread a mat upon the door-step, and sat down upon it in company withtwo little girls who lived in the next house.Shortly afterward Mrs Raymond went intothe parlour to get a book which had been leftthere, but before her errand was accomplished,her attention was arrested by Fanny's voice,saying in mocking tones, "And just see what"a fine head of hair: I wonder how many wigs"a hair-dresser could make of it."She went over to the window, and almostin front of it saw an old man sitting upon acamp stool. His head, which was bared tothe cool breeze, was entirely bald, with theexception of a few thin gray locks at the back,and his clothes, though of a coarse material,
46 FANNY RAYMOND.were whole and clean. Fanny and her twofriends stood upon the lower step, with asneering expression upon their faces, and in amoment she comprehended what was goingon. They were making fun for themselves atthe expense of the old man. Shocked andmortified, she went to the door and calledFanny in, saying,"How could you treat that old man sorudely? I am astonished at such behaviour."" I did not say half as much as Mary andLizzie did," Fanny answered, with a confusedand angry countenance." What they did is nothing to the purpose;you are only responsible for your own badconduct," replied Mrs Raymond; "and nowI insist upon it that you go with me andmake an apology to him."Fanny drew back, reluctantly, but hermother held her hand in so decided a manner,that she saw there would be no use in resist-ing, and so allowed herself to be led out towhere the old man sat."I am very sorry," said Mrs Raymond," that my little girl has been guilty of suchrudeness. I am afraid she is not sorry her-self, now, for what she has done; but she will
SELF-CONFIDENCE. 47be, after she has had time to think it over;and now, in her name, I ask you to forgive her.""Certainly, certainly," replied the old man,in a feeble voice; "she is very young, anddid not mean any harm.""She is old enough to behave better thanshe has done this evening," Mrs Raymondanswered.He laid his hand on Fanny's head, andinquired," How old are you, my child ?""Ten years," Fanny muttered, withoutraising her eyes."Then I am seventy years older than youare," he replied; "I am very infirm lately,but like to walk out in the cool of the day,and so for fear of getting tired I carry my seatalong with me. If you live to be as old as Iam, you will understand better than you donow what a needful and pleasant thing restis; and I hope then, that, like me, you maye looking forward to the blessed and eternalrest of heaven."He spoke very kindly. Fanny felt some-what abashed, and her mother was glad tohear the old man speak of having a Christian'shope.
48 FANNY RAYOND." Will you walk into the house and takesomething to refresh you?" she inquired.He thanked her, but declined, as he wasnot very far away from his home.Fanny would have felt a good deal of regretfor her misconduct, for the old man's kindnesstouched her heart, but she saw that Mary andLizzie were still upon the door step, watchingwith curious eyes what was going on. Hardand rebellious feelings overcame the betterones, and she was angry with her mother forhaving obliged her to go with her to make theapology.When they had returned to the house, MrsEaymond led her on, without speaking, to aroom where they could talk over the matterwithout being disturbed, and then she said,"You told me yesterday, and again thismorning, that you had determined to be good:do you think you have kept your resolution?""I did not do anything very bad," repliedFanny, her eyes fixed upon the ground, "Ionly wanted to tease the old man a little,because Mary and Lizzie began it.""I told you before," her mother answered,"that their behaviour was no excuse for yoursin, and I do not wish you to speak of it
SELF-CONFIDENCE. 49again. Here," she continued, handing her anopen Bible, after turning over the leaves, untilshe had found the proper place-" read thatverse aloud."Fanny took the book and read in a lowtone," Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head,and honour the face of the old man, and fearthy God: I am the Lord.""That is a command of God," said MrsRaymond; "do you think you have obeyedit?""I did not mean any harm," Fanny replied,bursting into tears." You should have remembered the story ofthe wicked children, who called after the pro-phet Elisha, 'Go up, thou bald head,'" saidher mother; "and their awful destructionshould have been a warning to you, for Godis the same always, and if He was angry atsuch conduct once, He will be again wheneverthe same thing happens."Fanny's tears still flowed freely, but shereturned no answer, and Mrs Raymond con-tinued :-"I hope you are truly sorry for your sin,and willing to ask God that He may forgiveD
50 FANNY RAYMOND.you for Jesus' sake. And now, Fanny, letme remind you again to seek His help to make'you able to do right, for you have no strengthin yourself."It wanted but a few minutes of being teatime, and her mother left her alone, that shemight pray to God for forgiveness. She didrepeat a few words, but her heart was still fullof angry and sinful thoughts; but could Godanswer her prayer while her sin still remainedunrepented of?That night before she fell asleep, all theevents of the day passed before her. Shecould not feel quite satisfied with her conduct,but she excused it. " Nobody is perfect," shereasoned, "and as I was good all the day untilnearly dark, I think I did pretty well. It wasonly a commencement to-day, and I dare sayI shall do much better to-morrow."Fanny made one great mistake in her cal-culations. She regarded her prompt mannerof going to the shop for her mother as entirelyan act of self-denial on her part-a keepingof the fifth commandment, when in fact shewas desirous to go because it pleased herself.So it was with the rest of her obedience. Ifshe had looked carefully over the events of
COMFORT IN LABOUR. 51the day, she would have found that, throughall, her mother's will had not once happenedto come in contact with her own; that shehad not been called upon once to give up herown desires to her parents.CHAPTER V.COMFORT IN TROUBLE.FANNY came home from school with a sorrow-ful countenance. She did not cry aloud, butsat upon a low stool in the nursery, with herhead bowed down very low, resting upon herhand; then went alone into her own littleroom, where no one could see her. Her babysister, Mary, clapped her hands and laughedwith all her tiny might, but failed to receiveany notice from her in return, except a veryfaint smile; and even the portfolio of pictures,which had pleased her so much before, layneglected upon a table near by. Fanny wasvery unhappy, more so, perhaps, than she hadever been before, and her mother saw this,when for the second time she left the nursery
52 FANNY RAYMOND.and went towards her chamber. Mrs Ray-mond quieted and soothed the liVely littlebaby, until it fell into a pleasant and steadysleep, and then laid it in the crib and followedFanny. There were several things, which shewas very anxious to do: a pile of stockings,which were to be darned that day, lay before"her, and she would have liked very much tohave seen them finished; and an entertainingbook, which she had been reading, lay uponthe mantle, with a paper marker placed in amost interesting part. It would have been avery nice time then, when there was but littlelikelihood of being disturbed by the baby, forher to have either sewed or read, and this wasthe hour which she had generally chosen forthese employment; but she had another taskbefore her now, which she would not have leftundonefor the sake of any other duty or pleasure.Fanny was in trouble, and she wished to com-fort her.She went over to the chamber door, and,as it was closed tightly, she softly tapped. Itwas opened very cautiously, and Fanny'stroubled face peered through the crevice."Shall I come in, Fanny?" asked hermother, in a cheerful tone.
COMFORT IN TROUBLE. 53Fannynodded without speaking, and turningaway hastily, began to seem very busy with'e arranging the already neatly spread bed-clothes. Mrs Raymond went over to her,and placing her hand gently upon her head,said kindly,"What ails you, Fanny ? Will you not tellyour mother?"Fanny buried her face in the pillow, andburst into tears.Her mother's hand was again laid upon herhead; this time very soothingly, and shegently stroked down Fanny's curls, and pressedher lips upon one bare shoulder, which hadescaped the confinement of her dress. Againshe repeated her question," Will you not tell me what ails you?""It is not very much, mother, and youwould not think it so," the child sobbed forthfrom her shelter in the pillow."If it gives you trouble, it is a great dealto me," Mrs Raymond kindly replied.Fanny hesitated. She was learning for thefirst time, that there are troubles, which maynot seem of much account when told toanother, yet may still be very distressing tothose who suffer from them. But she was
54 FANNY RAYMOND.not able to form these new thoughts intomore distinct words than those which she hadalready uttered to her mother; so she wepton without speaking."I was once a child like you, Fanny," MrsRaymond continued; "and that time hasnever been forgotten. I was happy and light-hearted generally, yet I had little troubles andtrials which sometimes made me very sad,and I remember my sadness on those occa-sions as distinctly as if it were but yesterday.If this were not so-if I had no recollectionsof those childish sorrows, I would not attemptto comfort you now."Fanny's head was pressed a little closeragainst her mother's bosom, but she did notinterrupt her, and Mrs Raymond went on,"Perhaps you may have done wrong andoffended your teacher; if so, you should re-member that God is angry with all sin, andthat obedience to your teacher is a duty, aswell as obedience to your parents; and under-standing this, you ought to go first to him,confessing your sin and asking forgiveness,and then go to Miss Brian with the same ac-knowledgment and request, You will not findthis so very hard to accomplish as you now
COMFORT IN TROUBLE. .55think, my dear child. There is an old saying,that God is always willing to help those whohelp themselves; and I think, if you make theattempt to do right, you will find this to betrue."" Miss Brian is not angry with me, and Ido not think I did anything to annoy her to-day,' Fanny faltered out.There was a moment's pause, and then, ina husky voice, she continued," Mary and Lizzie Gray teased me, becauseyou took me over to that old man, and toldhim how naughty I had been. I should nothave cared so very much about this, but theysaid a great many queer things to the othergirls about it, which made them all laugh, andI am afraid none of them will ever like meagain.""I am very sorry that Mary and Lizziehave treated you so badly," said Mrs Ray-mond, "but I do not think that there is anyvery great danger of your old friends neverliking you again. These things very soon passover, as I have often seen it happen. If youdo them a kindness whenever you have theopportunity, and are always gentle and ac-commodating in your conduct, they will quite
56 FANNY RAYMOND.forget what Mary and Lizzie said, and youwill soon be more of a favourite than everbefore. This seems like a hard trial to younow, I know; but do not let it trouble youvery much, for in a short time I feel prettysure that you will be happy again, and haveas many friends as ever."The gentle tones of her mother's voice andthe comforting words spoken, consoled Fanny,but she still sobbed on; she was sufferingfrom another cause, which she was hardlyaware of herself.Mrs Raymond, while she had been speak-ing, had gradually moved Fanny's head untilit rested comfortably upon her lap, and nowshe gently stroked her, and smoothed backher hair. As she did this the uncommonheat, which had flushed her brow, arrestedher attention."I do not think you are quite well, Fanny,"she said." My head aches very much," replied Fanny;"I feel it very badly now, although awhile ago,when I was so much troubled about Maryand Lizzie, and the other girls, I did notnotice it."Mrs Raymond shook up the pillow, and
COMFORT IN TROUBLE. 57laid the little girl's aching head upon it, andthen, after leaving the room for a few moments,returned with something cooling to bathe it.She sat with her for nearly an hour, bathingher-forehead and fanning her, until, as shegrew easier, her sobs subsided, and she fellinto a gentle slumber. Fanny did not awakeuntil long after daylight, and then, as sheopened her eyes, the first object which shesaw was her mother bending over her withearnest countenance."You are much better, I think, Fanny,"she said, kissing her cheek.Fanny smiled, she was hardly sufficientlyrestored to consciousness to be able to tell;but the kind tones of her mother's voice, thepressure of that soft kiss, and the sympathis-ing expression of her face, all tended to makeher feel pleasant and comfortable, and she re-plied confidently,"Oh, I feel very well indeed now, thankyou.""I am glad to hear that it is so," MrsRaymond answered.It was a busy hour for her, yet she did notleave the room, as Fanny expected, butassisted her to rise, 'and going over to the
58 FANNY RAYMOND.wash-stand, poured out some fresh water forner to wash in, and performed various otherlittle offices, which although not very impor-tant in themselves, yet helped to make Fannyfeel happy. Mrs Raymond had anothermotive for remaining, which was to seewhether her little daughter's headache wouldreturn after she had arisen; but as this didnot seem to be the case, she left the room.When she had gone out and closed the doorafter her, Fanny could not help saying toherself,"What a good mother I have I am sureI ought to love her very much."As Fanny stood there, her softened coun-tenance glowing with gratitude to her mother,she would have seemed to a looker on as avery different being from the stubborn andrebellious child which we first introduced toour readers. But God, who sees the heart,knew her to be the same unchanged little girl;full of sinful and disobedient feelings, which,though smothered now, needed only a littleopposition to be called again into action.Fanny did not see her heart as God did, andshe was quite satisfied with it, if it only ap-peared right.
THE WARNING SLIGHTED. 59"I think I must be getting good and obe-dient now," she murmured, "for I feel as if Ishould always mind what mother tells meafter this."Fanny had not yet learned the truth ofGod's words-" The heart is deceitful aboveall things, and desperately wicked."CHAPTER VI.THE WARNING SLIGHTED." Therefore let him that thinketh he standeth, take heedlest he fall.""FANNY! Fanny!""Ma'am ?""Come down as soon as possible, I wantyou to go to the grocer for me.'Yes, ma'am, directly," Fanny answeredaloud, and then, in an under tone for her ownbenefit, soliloquising:"Oh, dear! It is too bad that I must goall the errands. I do wish mother could keepa coloured boy as Mrs Grey does. Mary andLizzie never have to go errands unless theychoose. Not that I dislike going to the shop
60 FANNY RAYMOND.generally, but this morning, as it was a holi-day, I thought I should have a nice time uphere without being disturbed."All this time Fanny was engaged in freeingher lap from three or four dolls of varioussizes, and ages, too, judging from the differencein their appearance, and numberless articlesof clothing, which she had been cutting outfor them. Yet she did not seem inclined tohurry about it, for she was taking some timeto arrange them, by placing those intendedfor each doll in a separate pile. Presentlyshe was again interrupted:"Fanny! Fanny! Did you hear me tellyou to come down, and go on an errand?""Yes, ma'am, I'm coming."This time the remaining contents of her lapwere lowered upon the floor, without regardto order, while she muttered to herself,"I suppose I must go now, but she mighthave let me stay to put away my things."The apartment which Fanny had just leftwas the garret lumber-room, and the mostinteresting one in the house to her. Hereshe delighted to spend her time during arainy day or holiday; among old chests andbroken articles of furniture, or such as not
THE WARNING SLIGHTED. C1being needed at the present had been storedaway for future use. Her baby house waskept here, where she might generally be freefrom interruption, and many pleasant hourswere passed in making up clothing for herdolls." I wish you would learn to come instantly,when you are called, Fanny," said her mother,when she appeared in her presence, " it is veryannoying to me to be kept waiting for you inthis way when I am in a hurry."Fanny would have returned some disre-spectful answer, had she dared; and as it was,she stood with a surly expression, and poutinglips, waiting for her mother's orders."Take this paper to the grocer's, and askMr Henry to send the things up as soon aspossible," continued Mrs Raymond, handingFanny a list of the things she needed.SFanny took the list, knowing just what itwas intended for, but her mother's words werenot heard, for her whole attention was takenup by the rebellious feelings which filled heibosom.Not very far below Mr Raymond's housewas a stationery shop where a variety of toy-books were sold. The most attractive of
62 FANNY RAYMOND.these were always displayed in the window--opened that the bright-coloured pictures mightarrest the notice of the passers by: and theynever failed with regard to Fanny. On thismorning she found, to her great delight, thatthe window had been supplied since the dayprevious with a number of new books, filledwith funny pictures and verses, and now shestood before it eagerly reading one after theother. She had finished the last, and wasstill lingering there, engaged in vain attemptsto decipher the mottos upon some glass letterseals, when she suddenly remembered that shehad been sent on an errand, and was probablyoutstaying her time."Well, I can walk the faster for the restof the way," she said to herself, and hurriedrapidly on a few paces.But, unfortunately, there were other at-tractions between her home and Mr Henry'sshop, besides the book shop, and very soonFanny had paused again before a watch-making establishment, with wondering eyesintently observing the movements of a manwho was examining the works of a watchthrough an eye-glass. The man changed hisposition, and she resumed her walk: but
THE WARNING SLIGHTED. G3not until she had frittered away some moreminutes. She entered the shop and foundit full of customers, as usual; and insteadof waiting patiently before the counter thatshe might be ready when the time came forher to be served, she went to the door to lookat what might be passing. Those who werein the shop when she came, had gone out, andothers passed in, yet she still stood in thesame place engaged in her trifling employ-ment until she was aroused by the voice ofMr Henry, who observed her then for thefirst time; but presumed that she mighthave been waiting there for a considerablewhile."Well, my little girl," he said pleasantly,"I wonder if you have not missed your turn ""I think so," replied Fanny, "for I havewaited here a long while.""Well then come up to the counter," hesaid, " and I will attend to you next."Fanny began to be uneasy for fear thatshe had overstayed her time, and that hermother would be angry with her, and perhapspunish her. But the customer whom MrHenry was waiting upon seemed to requirea large variety of articles, for one package
64 FANNY RAYMOND.after another was weighed out and laid aside,without appearing to diminish the numberof her wants. Fanny's uneasiness was in-creasing to a considerable degree, when shesuddenly remembered that as her mother hadwritten down all the things that were needed,there was no necessity for her waiting longerthan merely to hand it in to Mr Henry. Sheput her hand in her pocket to get it, butto her amazement it was not there. Sheturned the lining inside out, and carefullyopened and shook out her pocket handker-chief, hoping that it might be hidden in thefolds, but without success. .There was apossibility that she might have dropped it atthe door, or somewhere along the street, andshe hurried out in hopes of finding it.It was not at the door, nor anywhere onher route to the shop, as far as she could see,notwithstanding all her search; and mortifiedand troubled she reached her home an hourafter she had left it, having occupied morethan twice the time that was really necessaryto have accomplished the errand."What kept you so long, Fanny?" in-quired Mrs Raymond, evidently annoyedalready at the delay.
THE WARNING SLIGHTED. 65As she went through the streets on herway back, Fanny had thought of a dozendifferent ways of apologising for her loss;but now they were all forgotten, and sheanswered quickly in the first -words whichoccurred to her,"I couldn't help it, mother, I lost mypaper.""I think that must have been from care-lessness," replied Mrs Raymond; "but I hopeyou found it at last, for I shall very soon needthose things.""No, ma'am; I looked all along the roadbut could not find it," Fanny answered.Mrs Raymond saw in a moment that theremust have been something wrong in the mat-ter. It might have taken Fanny twice as longto accomplish her errand, if she had beenobliged to look for the paper, and then goback to the shop for the second time to handin her list; but as this had not been the case,she judged rightly that there had been a greatdeal of time wasted. This delay would proveto be a considerable inconvenience to her, forbefore she should be able to obtain the articleswhich she needed, it would be too late toI repare them for dinner.E
66 FANNY RAYMOND."You have been an idle and disobedientgirl, Fanny," she said, while getting the paperand pencil to make out a new list; "youshould always go directly on, without stoppingby the way, when I send you upon an errand;and particularly when I tell you that I am ina hurry for the things I send you after.""You did not tell me that you were in ahurry to-day," said Fanny."I told you that I should need the articlesas soon as possible," replied Mrs Raymond."No, ma'am," persisted Fanny, with greatconfidence; "you told me to take the paperto Mr Henry's shop, and tell him to sendhome the things which were written downupon it, and that was all. I did not hear oneword about your being in a hurry.""Come, Fanny, do not contradict me," MrsRaymond replied in a very decided manner *"there can be no mistake about it, as I re-member perfectly well what I told you, whetheryou do or not. I think it quite probable thatyou did not hear me," she added, recollectingthe listless manner with which Fanny hadreceived her message, " for you have a verycareless habit of not attending properly towhat I am saying to you."
THE WARNING SLIGHTED. G7Fanny was never willing to acknowledgeherself in error where it was possible to laythe blame upon another, and now she wasdetermined to believe that it was her motherwho was wrong. She had a disrespectfulanswer quite ready, but not daring to utterit, she stood still with a surly and obstinateexpression upon her countenance, which toldas plainly as words what were the feelings ofher heart.Mrs Raymond saw all this distinctly, butnot caring to notice it then, she quietly handedthe new list, which was made out by this time,and told her to go as quickly as possible then;although the previous delay would make ittoo late for the articles to benefit her at thattime.God hates sin. The way of the wicked isan abomination to Him. He saw all the evilthoughts which were in Fanny's heart as sheretraced her way back to the shop. Rebelliousand hard thoughts towards her mother forhaving blamed her conduct, and obliged herto leave her amusement for so long a time toperform this service for her. Not one feelingof regret oppressed her for having caused in-convenience and trouble to the kind mother
68 FANNY RAYMOND.who watched over her when she was sick, andsympathised with her little sorrows, notcaring how much time or inconvenience itmight cost. Her resolutions of being goodand obedient were quite forgotten then, andwhen she afterwards remembered them, it wasonly to excuse herself for having broken themat that time. Another time she would dobetter: but as time passed and she was forcedto see that there was no improvement in her-self-that she was still as disobedient as ever-she began to grow careless about formingnew resolutions, saying to herself,"There is no use in it, for I cannot keepthem."Insensibly she was thus acknowledging thetruth of her mother's words-that it was onlyGod who could give her strength to be good:yet this did not induce her to look to Him.The real difficulty lay in Fanny's own heart,although she did not think so. She had nosincere desire to be obedient and good, forshe loved sin better than holiness.
"A VISIT IN ANTICIPATION. 69CHAPTER VII."A VISIT IN ANTICIPATION." You had better let Fanny go home with me.sister; I will take very good care of her, andSallie will be delighted to see her.""Do please, mother, let me go home withaunt, and see cousin Sallie."Mrs Raymond hesitated, looking first atMrs Martin-her sister, and the lady whohad first spoken-and then at Fanny's eagercountenance as she waited for her answer, Itwould not be very easy for her to spare Fannyjust then; for their only domestic was toounwell to be of much help to ner, and thebaby was suffering from a severe attack ofhooping cough, and Fanny was old enoughto assist her by performing various little house-hold services." I hardly know how I can spare Fannyjust now," she said.A shade of disappointment clouded Fanny'sbright face for a moment, and then she lookedup earnestly at her mother and said," I d) wish you could spare me, mother."
70 FANNY RAvIPOND."Yes, I wish so, too," added Mrs Martin;"for I am sure Fanny would enjoy a visit tothe country vastly this pleasant weather."" I have no doubt about that," replied MrsRaymond; "and I should like to let her govery much, but"-here she paused.There was yet another reason which obligedher to hesitate, but it was of such a naturethat she did not like to mention it even toMrs Martin. It was this: Fanny's wardrobeneeded replenishing before she could makethis visit. Mr Raymond's business affairs hadnot been very flourishing of late, and moneywas scarce, and Mrs Raymond had been forcedto use a great deal of economy. She couldmanage with considerable care to makeFanny's present small supply of clothing suffi-cient for her at home, but she did not see howthey could pass during a visit to her fashion-able friend's house."I will be very good indeed, mother, ifyou will let me go," urged Fanny, tooyoung to understand the cause of her silence."Do let the child go, sister," continuedMrs Martin; "she is getting quite puny,and needs a little of our pure country air torevive the roses on her cheeks."
A VISIT IN ANTICIPATION. 71Mrs Martin made this remark withoutmuch thought, and chiefly because shewished to use some argument to persuadethe mother. She had no intention of speak-ing a falsehood, for she regarded nearly allcity children as pale and weakly. To astranger, Fanny's cheeks would have seemedsufficiently blooming, and her form robustenough; but Mrs Martin's suggestion hadaroused her mother's fears, and her anxiouseye began to detect signs of delicate healthwhich no other could have observed. Sheforgot the disadvantage wh h her absencefrom home might be to herself, and beganto wonder if she could not contrive someplan for getting her a few new articles ofdress. This could not be done immediately,but Mrs Martin had spoken of comingagain to the city with her husband duringthe next week, and if she could do as shehoped, Fanny might be made ready by thattime."I cannot possibly let Fanny go to-day,"she said to her sister; " but if it will not beinconvenient to you and brother Edward, Imay perhaps be able to get her ready to ra-turn with you next week."
72 FANNY RAYMOND."There will be plenty of room for her inthe carriage, and it will not be in the leastinconvenient to us; although upon her ownaccount, I should have preferred taking herwith me to-day," replied Mrs Martin.And so, to Fanny's great delight, it wassettled that she should go home with heraunt, and remain two weeks. Here allFanny's difficulties ended, and her mother'scommenced. As soon as Mrs Martin hadgone, Mrs Raymond began to ponder overthe possibility of getting some new clothesfor Fanny. A dress as well as several otherarticles were needed; but where were theyto come from? As she thought over thematter, an idea suddenly occurred to her.She had laid aside two pounds for the pur-pose of purchasing a new bonnet and a workedcollar for herself, and had fixed upon this veryday to go out and buy them, as the seasonwas already pretty far advanced. Could shedo without these things herself, and use themoney instead to fit Fanny out for her visit ?She got out her old bonnet, it looked veryshabby, for she had worn it for the two pre-vious seasons. It really seemed as if sheought to have a new one. But she could not
A VISIT IN ANTICIPATION. 73bear to think of disappointing Fanny, andthis determined her." I will wear my old bonnet for anotherseason," she said to herself; "I can bear dis-appointment better than she can;" yet a sighescaped her as she brushed away a fly whichhad rested upon the well-worn bonnet, andcarefully replaced it in the band-box.She hurried through her household dutieswhen dinner was over, and succeeded in put-ting the baby to sleep, and then started outto make her purchases. The two poundswere barely sufficient to buy what was needed,and leave a small amount for a book, to begiven as a present to Sallie Martin. MrsRaymond knew that Fanny wished to makethis present to her cousin, for she had oftenheard her speak of it, and the necessaryamount was purposely saved from the 2.SShopping had been a troublesome business toher on this afternoon, and she reached homevery tired, but quite satisfied. She must dowithout the bonnet and collar which she hadexpected to get for herself, but she would beable to surprise Fanny (who knew nothing ofher intention) with an unexpected pleasure.She was in the dining-room when her mother
74 FANNY RAYMOND.entered with the package of purchases, andstood looking on, according to her usual cus-tom, to see it opened."I wonder if there is anything for me inthat bundle, mother?" she said, with a slyglance, which told that she suspected some-thing of the truth."What would you think if I were to tellyou that every article which I purchased to-day was intended for you?" inquired MrsRaymond, as after some difficulty she suc-ceeded in loosening the string which held thebundle." I should think you were very kind indeed,""Fanny answered, with a bright smile.The next moment the smile had vanishedfrom her face, and left only an uneasy anddissatisfied expression upon it. She was notpleased with the material which her motherhad chosen for the dress."Why didn't you get me a pink barege,like Mary and Lizzie Grey's ?" she asked, ina complaining tone."Because this was less expensive and moresuitable for you," replied Mrs Raymond.All the happiness which she had felt at theprospect of pleasing Fanny was now gone
A VISIT IN ANTICIPATION. 75from her heart. After all her efforts and thesacrifice which she had made, nothing re-mained to her but pain at the ingratitude ofher child." I do wish I could have handsome dresses,like those other girls wear," muttered Fanny,with a contemptuous glance at the substantiallooking, but really pretty mousline de lanewhich lay before her." I will not suffer this display of ill-humour,Fanny, any longer," replied her mother, in adecided tone: "you must make no morecomplaints, or I shall feel myself obliged toinsist upon your remaining at home. Yourfather and I are not rich. We give you asgood clothes to wear as our means will afford,and it is ungrateful to us, as well as to God,for you to express such dissatisfaction."Fanny turned away from the table in silence,but with as much ingratitude and anger inher heart as ever. Again she was only silentbecause she did not dare to speak out thewicked feelings which were allowed to restfreely in her bosom.Mrs Raymond was disappointed and hurtat the unthankful disposition which Fannyhad displayed. She heard no more open
76 FANNY RAYMOND.complaints from Fanny, yet she knew thatthey still existed in her heart, and that it wasthe fear of being prevented from paying thevisit alone which kept her silent.Notwithstanding Fanny's bad behaviour,her mother worked cheerfully early and lateto make up the clothing for her, and succeededin getting it done in time. On the day ap-pointed, with a happy countenance, she bade"good-bye " to her home, and drove off withher uncle and aunt. If any one could havepenetrated into the depths of her feelings, itwould have been found that very much of thepleasure which she experienced arose from thethought, that she would be free from allrestraint-able to do as she pleased. Heraunt was extremely easy in temper, and sheexpected would allow her the liberty of follow-ing her own inclination, and this, she thought,would make her perfectly happy.
AWAY FROM HOME. 77CHAPTER VIII.AWAY FROM HOME.MR MARTIN lived about twelve miles fromthe city, on a pleasant road, and Fanny enjoyedthe ride vastly.' Sallie was at the gate wait-ing to receive them, and with her an amiablelooking girl a few inches taller than them-selves, whom she introduced as Ellen Douglas.There was something about Ellen that pleasedFanny very much, and she noticed all hermovements with interest. Very soon shecould not help being struck with the differ-ence between her behaviour and that of mostothers of her age. When the carriage pausedbefore the door, and Mrs Martin alighted, shestood near by, ready to receive the varioussmall packages which she had brought withher from town. And when she entered theparlour, Ellen placed a comfortable chair inthe most pleasant part of the room for her;handed her a fan, and when she had had timeto rest, offered to take her bonnet and shawl.All these attentions were bestowed in a quiet
78 FANNY RAYMOND.and unobtrusive way that surprised Fanny.And so it continued through the remainder ofthe evening. Without being annoying in theleast, she endeavoured to anticipate and sup-ply all Mr or Mrs Martin's wants. Ellen wasa niece of Mrs Martin, but no relation toFanny, and Fanny had never met her before.Ellen slept in a small room adjoining theone set apart for Sallie and herself; and forsome time after they had retired, Fanny couldhear, from time to time, the leaves of a bookgently turned. She had heard of novel readerswho would sit up night after night until pastmidnight to pore over the pages of a romance,and she began to suspect Ellen of belongingto the number. Sallie also heard the sound,and very soon her curiosity was raised to sucha pitch that she arose from the bed for thepurpose of ascertaining the appearance of thebook that proved to be so interesting. Thedoor was slightly ajar, and she gently peepedthrough the crack, and to her surprise sawthat it was a small pocket edition of theBible which Ellen held in her hand. Shewondered what one so young as Ellen couldfind to interest her so much in such a book asthe Bible. She had listened with pleasure
AWAY FEOM HOME. 79when her mother told her stories from it, butthese soon became quite familiar and losttheir interest, and she never thought of read-ing it, except a chapter occasionally from asense of duty, or when she was preparing herSunday-school lessons. She knew nothing ofthe interest which those feel in it, whosedelight is in the law of God, and who love tomeditate upon it day and night.She fell asleep, still wondering, andawakened to, see the smiling face of Ellenbending over her, and to hear her pleasantvoice exclaiming," Come, Fanny and Sallie, it is getting late,and I thought you would like to go over tothe barn with me to see Michael milk thecows, and help to look up some eggs forbreakfast."" Oh, Ellen! is that you already ? and isit quite time to get up ?" inquired Sallie, in asleepy tone, stretching her arms, and thenturning upon her pillow again, as if with theintention of resuming her slumbers." Yes, it is full time," replied Ellen, "and ifyou knew what a beautiful morning it is, youwould be right glad of it. I have been sit-ting at the chamber window, looking out as
80 FANNY RAYMOND.far as I could over the country, and I thoughtI had never seen anything half so pretty be-fore. Then I remembered that I had toldMrs Martin that I would try to find hersome eggs for breakfast, and imagined thatyou and Fanny might like to go with me.""r should, I know," said Fanny."And I too," added Sallie, who wasthoroughly awake by this time.When Fanny saw Ellen reading from theBible the night before, she supposed her tobe a very quiet and grave sort of a child,and'not a very pleasant companion. Nowwhen she saw her light form boundingthrough the barn, first upon a ladder examin-ing some hay-rack, and then diving into therecesses of some remote corner, seemingly themost joyous of the three, she could scarcelybelieve her to be the same person. Fannyhad yet to learn that it is the one who findethwisdom and getteth understanding who isthe most happy, and the real meaning of thewords of the apostle, "Godliness is profitableunto all things, having promise of the life thatnow is, and of that which is to come."After breakfast, the three girls were play-ing at a large swing, suspended from the
AWAY FROM HORE. 81spreading boughs of a tree, which grew uponthe lawn near the house. It was Ellen's turn,for she had very good-naturedly allowed theother two to have theirs first. She was butjust seated, with Fanny and Sallie standingupon either side ready to give the desiredpush, which would set the swing in motion,when Mrs Martin appeared in sight." I want one of you girls to come and holdsome thread for me," she said." Oh dear! that is too bad !" exclaimedSallie; " we have just begun our play."Fanny stood irresolutely fingering the tope;not having any intention of going back tothe house if she could help it, yet anxious toavoid offending her aunt. Her eyes werebent upon the ground, but a motion of theswing caused her to raise them; Ellen wasslowly descending-from it."I will go over and help aunt Martin towind the thread," she said, quietly, " and ifit does not take too long, please wait for meuntil I come back, and then I can have myturn."They continued their play after she hadleft them, but very much of the enjoymentwas lost to Fanny. Conscience made herF
82 FANNY RAYMOND.uneasy, for she felt that she ought to havebeen willing to have acted just as Ellen had,yet she was not. She wondered at Ellen'swilling obedience, and tried to account for itin some way that would not make her ownbehaviour appear so bad by contrast, as wellas to excuse herself to her conscience."Ellen wants aunt to think that she isbetter than we are, I dare say," she reasonedto herself; "and most likely she doesn't carevery much for swinging, or maybe she expectsaunt will give her something for being so ac-commodating. But aunt is not my mother,and it does not make so much difference if Ido not do just as she pleases, and mind allshe says."The thread was tangled and very trouble-some to wind, and when it was at last finished,and Ellen thought she might go back to herplay, Mrs Martin detained her to hold somesewing silk. This kept her so long in thehouse that Fanny and Sallie grew tired ofswinging, and went away to seek some otheramusement, and when she returned she foundthem in the vegetable garden, playing withthe young ears of corn, whose long silkentassels delighted Fanny extremely.
AWAY FROM HOME. 83"Have you done swinging, already?" in-quired Ellen, evidently disappointed at notfinding them still in the same place where shehad left them."I thought maybe that you did not carevery much for swinging," said Fanny."Oh, yes I do," replied Ellen, quickly; "Ilike it better than almost any other play."This was pretty much the case with Fanny;she was extremely fond of swinging, and wasnow quite ready to return to it."Well, let us go back to the swing," shesaid: "I am quite ready."But Sallie, who was not very actively in-clined, and was now lying lazily beneath ashady tree, plaiting the corn stalks, felt butlittle desire to change her position."Come, Sallie, will you go?" inquired Fanny."Never mind me," replied Sallie, drowsily:"go on by yourselves, and after I have rested,I will join you."The two girls did not wait to urge thepoint, for Sallie's voice and manner told quiteplainly that she was rather too indolent atthat time to be much of an addition to theparty, even should they succeed in inducingher to change her mind.
84 FANNY RAYMOND." If you liked swinging so much, what madeyou go so quickly when aunt Martin called ?"inquired Fanny."Because I think it is better to obey God,than to please myself," replied Ellen, reverently,and looking rather surprised at Fanny'squestion."But it wasn't our place to go," reasonedFanny: "it was Sallie's. Aunt Martin isSallie's mother, and the Bible says that chil-dren ought to obey their parents.""I used to think in that way too," saidEllen, "that I need not mind anybody butmy mother-not even my teachers. But asI grew older I learned better, for my mothertaught me that when she placed me underthe care of any one, they stood in her place,and I ought to do as they said, just the sameas if it was she who was speaking."Fanny was silent; she did not approve ofthis argument. She was not very fond ofbeing obliged to obey her parents, and did notrelish the idea of being under subjection toothers, too."Then, beside," continued Ellen, after ashort pause, " I know if my mother was here,she would tell me to do what aunt Martin
AWAY FROM HOME. 85wished, for she likes me to be kind and ac-commodating to everybody, particularly tothose who are older than I am."This was plain reasoning, which Fannymade no attempt to answer, for her consciencetold her that her own mother was quite asanxious that she should be kind and accom-modating as Ellen's could be, and that indoing so, she would only be obeying hermother. She looked at Ellen as she stoodbeside her holding the rope on one side of theswing."She is. taller and older than I am," shemurmured to herself: "but after a while Idare say I shall be as good as she is."Fanny thought that the difficulty whichshe had found in trying to be good wouldvanish as she grew older-that it was mucheasier for one as tall as Ellen to do what wasright; but Fanny was greatly mistaken.Ellen had naturally a deceitful and wickedheart, just like her own. It loved sin andhated holiness just as much; and there wasnot one difficulty in the way of being goodand obedient which Fanny had felt that Ellendid not know.The only difference between them was this.
86 FANNY RAYMOND.When Ellen saw the weakness of her ownheart, and found that her own feeble effortswere not sufficient to make her do what wasright, she went to God and asked Him to helpher. She read His Word, and tried to find outwhat He required of her, and then prayed toHim for strength to enable her to obey Hiscommandments. Knowing her own weaknessand love of sin, she placed no confidence inherself, and conscious that God was able andwilling to help those who trust in Him, shewent to Him in perfect faith, and He did notturn her away unsatisfied. He took awaythe hard heart, which she had had by nature,and gave her a new heart that loved Him,and desired to obey His commandments.Since that time she had often been temptedwith sinful thoughts and feelings, for Satanis very anxious to persuade those who turnaway from sin into following Him again-"like a roaring lion walking about, seekingwhom he may devour." But God is strongerthan Satan, and well able to succour themthat are tempted, "and will not suffer any tobe tempted above what they are able to bear:"so she turned to Him and He always broughther safely through it.
A DAY OF LIBERTY. 87Fanny did not choose to go to God and besaved from sin in the same way as Ellen hadbeen, and this was what made the real differ-ence between them. Age and size had no-thing to do with the matter, excepting that thelonger any one continues in sin, the harderit becomes for them to turn away from it. Itwas Fanny's own fault that she made thismistake; it was not that she had not beentaught better.CHAPTER IX.A DAY OF LIBERTY."WOULDN'T it be nice, Ellen, to be allowedto do just as you choose, and not have any-body to tell you what you must do, or whatyou must not do?" inquired Fanny, lookingearnestly in Ellen's face.But from the expression resting there itdid not seem as if Ellen quite agreed withher, and Fanny continued to explain hermeaning further:"I mean, don't you think it would be nice,if we had no fathers and mothers ? I don't
88 FANNY RAYMOND.mean that I wish they were dead, becausethat would be wicked; but if it could sohappen that we never had any, and came intothe world without having to mind anybody,and be allowed to do just exactly as wewanted, wouldn't it be nice?"Fanny seemed to find some difficulty inexpressing just what she did mean, but Ellenunderstood her perfectly now."I used to think so," she replied, "but Idon't any longer.""Why ?" inquired Fanny; "for I think itwould be delightful to have nothing- to dobut please myself all day.""I'll tell you how I came to change mymind," said Ellen. "Charley-he's my bro-ther, you know-Charley and I used to thinkit hard to be obliged to do as we were told,and go to school when we were sent. Wesupposed it must be very nice to have all theday to ourselves to spend as we pleased, andsometimes we said so to mother. So oneday, when Charley was complaining about it,she told him that he might have all the nextday for himself, beginning early in the morn-ing; and then I coaxed her to let me have it,too, and she said very well, that I might be
A DAY OF LIBERTY. 89allowed the same liberty. We were delighted,and thought we were going to spend the hap-piest day in all our lives."We passed half of the evening before inplanning what we should do. Suppose welie in bed until it is very late, for if we are todo just as we please, we need not get upwhen the bell rings, you know,' said Charley.'But that might make the day seem too shortfor us,' I answered. So we concluded that itwould be just as well to get up at our usualtime. But we could not decide so easily asto how we should employ ourselves, and aftera very long talk about it, we went to bed de-termining to wait until the morning and thensettle the matter."It seemed very odd in the morning notto have any lessons to look over for school,and Charley packed away all our school bookswhere we might not even see them, for hesaid that the very sight of anything belongingto school was disagreeable to him then. Wewent up to the loft, and played with the oldthings which mother keeps stowed away thereuntil breakfast, and after breakfast we beganto look around for something else to do. Wewanted mother to tell us of some plan, but
90 FANNY RAYMOND.she refused to do so, because, she said, thatwould not be strictly according to the agree-ment. Charley and I had the hardest quarrelthat we ever had in all our lives, after motherhad left us. He wanted to do one thing andI wanted to do another, and we were bothvery angry because the other would not givein, and called each other a great many crossnames, until I cried; and Charley said thathe would not play with me then even if 1should be willing to do exactly what he wanted,for he hated cry babies,' and did not care tohave anything to do with them."After that I played with my doll for awhile, but the quarrel with Charley made mefeel uneasy and lonely, and I could not enjoymyself long at anything. Then I thought itmight be pleasant to take a walk with one ofmy friends, and make a visit, as I was in thehabit of doing on Saturday afternoons.Without thinking what I was doing, I ranover to mother's room where she was sewing,and said,"' Mother may I go and see Mary Lewisand ask her to walk with me?'"'Do just as you please, Ellen,' motherreplied.
A DAY OF LIBERTY. 91"I. felt as if I had much rather she hadsaid 'yes,' or even 'no,' for it did not seemquite comfortable to be going about in this"way, without having some one to tell mewhether it was best or not, as I had beenaccustomed; but there was no help for it.Charley had gone away after the quarrel tofind amusement somewhere, and I was leftentirely alone."While I was thinking over what I shoulddo, a new idea suddenly struck me. My fatherhad brought home from New York, a fewweeks before, a very pretty white spotted furmuff and tippet for me. I had urged hardto be allowed to wear them, but as it was stillwarm weather, mother had refused to let mehave them; now, however, as I was to doexactly what I wanted, she could make noobjection,'so I determined to put them onand take a walk. It was in September, andI was still wearing my summer dresses: herewas a difficulty which I had not thought of,for it would look odd to wear furs with a thirddress. But the furs looked so pretty when Ihad spread them out on the bed, and I wasso anxious to show them off to my friends,
92 FANNY RAYMOND.that I could not bear to give up all thoughtsof wearing them. I did not care to get outone of my old winter dresses, but I had a silkone which I sometimes wore on cool days,and I thought it might answer. I felt a littleafraid that mother might stop me before Icould get out of the house, and oblige me tochange my dress and leave the furs at home.She must have seen me as I passed down thestairway, for the door of her room was open,and she was sitting opposite to it; but shedid not notice me in any way, and I reachedthe street safely without interruption."I had not gone far, when I began to feeluncomfortably warm; for furs, you know,Fanny, are only suitable for winter wear;besides I was very much annoyed at seeingsome large boys pointing at me and makingrude remarks about my dress, and even grownup gentlemen and ladies smiled and lookedafter me, as if my appearance amused them."I decided to call and see Mary Lewis, forI wanted her to admire my father's handsomepresent, and this was the first opportunity Ihad of showing it off to her. I rang the belland asked if she was at home; but, instead of
A DAY OF LIBERTY. :3answering, the girl stood still looking at mewith some surprise for a moment, and thencalled out to another girl in the kitchen,"'Come here, Biddy, and see the sight iParasol- and muff! summer and winter, allin one, I declare !'" Biddy came forward immediately, and thetwo girls stood there examining me from headto foot and laughing and joking at me, whileI waited for my answer, very much mortifiedand very angry. They seemed to have for-gotten that I was at the door for any otherpurpose than for their amusement, and so Iagain put the question,"'Is Mary Lewis at home?'"'No, child, of course not: she won't behome from school for a few hours yet,' re-plied the girl, at last. Then, turning to Biddy,added,"' I thought the child was daft when Ifirst set eyes on her, and now feel quite sureof it; for if she wasn't she would know thatMary was safe at school at this hour.'"I walked away from the door a great dealmore uncomfortable than ever. I was quitedisappointed at not finding Mary at home-Ihad forgotten all about school-but my mor-
94 FANNY RAYMOND.titication and anger were far greater than mydisappointment. I wanted to hurry home,but the way seemed twice as long as usual,and my furs appeared to grow heavier everystep I took, while I was as much annoyed bythe rude stares and remarks of bad boys andgirls. How much did you pay for your muff?'asked one. Maybe she stole it,' said another.SHalloa, Siberia when did you come to thislatitude ?' called out another. And so it con-tinued, until I felt as if I would be glad tosink down under the pavement, where no onecould see me." The tippet tied closely around my throatmade me particularly uneasy: it seemedalmost to choke me, and I could not breathefreely. I took it off and stuffed it in mymuff, determined to be rid of one cause ofannoyance at least, and then began to walkfaster than ever towards home. I reached it,at last, and did not stop after the door wasopened until I had reached my own room.Then, after I had had a good spell of crying,I began to feel better; so I got up from thebed where I had thrown myself, and washedmy warm face and neck in cool water, andthen set about putting away my unfortunate
A DAY OF LIBELrTY. 95furs. But just think of my annoyance, uponfinding that my new tippet was gone! Inmy haste I had let it fall from the muff, andit was too late to go back. and look for it.""Didn't you ever find it again?" inquiredFanny."No, never," replied Ellen; "and I had todo without a tippet all winter, just because Ihad my own will for one day. But that wasnot my only misfortune, for my pretty silkdress-the very best one I had-was quitespoiled with the perspiration.""What did your mother say?" askedFanny."I could not bear to tell her," Ellen an-swered; " but I had to do so, unpleasant as itwas, and at last I mustered the courage. Sheonly said that as I had chosen to have myown way I must take the consequence of it,and that as she could neither give me a newtippet or dress to replace the others, I mustdo without the tippet, and content myselfwith the commoner dresses which I alreadyhad. I cried until dinner time, and when Iwent to the table, I found that the morning'stroubles had taken away my appetite, and Isighed heavily as I remembered the days