Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 The dying boy
 The boy and the gold robin
 The way to overcome evil
 Harriet and her squirrel
 The reward
 The boy and the dew drops
 Lettice and Myra
 Lettice taking home the work
 Lettice and Catherine
 The explanation
 Jonas and his horse
 Edward and Ellen
 Lily Ford
 The market day
 The two mammas
 Melly, Anna and Susy
 Arthur and his apple tree
 The motherless birds
 Story about a robber
 Good companions
 Bertie's box
 The child and flower
 Anne Cleaveland
 The orphan's voyage
 Look up
 The flower that looks up
 The wayside flower
 The farmer
 The flowers of the field
 My early days
 Margaret and Herbert
 The bit of garden
 Remember the cake
 Benny's first drawing
 The grey old cottage
 The boy found in the snow
 The brother and sister
 The glow worm
 Emily's morning ramble
 Flying the kite
 The happy family
 Story about an Indian
 Gather the flowers
 Jane and her lessons
 Harvest song
 Telling secrets
 Agnes and the mouse
 The two robins
 The pleasant sail
 The sailor boy
 The bracelet
 No pay - no work
 The tree that never fades
 Young usher
 A good act for another
 A boy reproved by a bird
 The echo
 Lizzy and her dog
 Julia's sunset walk
 Flora and her portrait
 The portrait of flora purchase...
 The saint's rest
 A good mother
 Mother's last lesson
 The golden crown
 Early at school
 The plum boys
 George and his dog
 The first dollar
 The shepherd and his Bible
 Revelation of God's holy word
 Pleasant play
 George and his guinea
 The Jew and his daughter
 Chinese proverbs
 Comfort and sobriety
 Back Cover

Group Title: The pearl box : containing one hundred beyoung people
Title: The pearl box
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00001797/00001
 Material Information
Title: The pearl box containing one hundred beautiful stories for young people
Physical Description: 216 p. : ill. ; 15 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Perkins, Oliver L ( Publisher )
George C. Rand & Co ( Printer )
Publisher: Oliver L. Perkins
Place of Publication: Boston
Manufacturer: George C. Rand & Co.
Publication Date: 1851
Subject: Love -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Nature -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Moral tales -- 1851   ( local )
Bldn -- 1851
Genre: Moral tales   ( local )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
Statement of Responsibility: by a pastor.
General Note: Includes some poems.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00001797
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002234321
oclc - 45534267
notis - ALH4740
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Half Title
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Title Page
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
    The dying boy
        Page 9
        Page 10
    The boy and the gold robin
        Page 11
        Page 12
    The way to overcome evil
        Page 13
    Harriet and her squirrel
        Page 14
        Page 15
    The reward
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
    The boy and the dew drops
        Page 20
        Page 21
    Lettice and Myra
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
    Lettice taking home the work
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
    Lettice and Catherine
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
    The explanation
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
    Jonas and his horse
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
    Edward and Ellen
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
    Lily Ford
        Page 46
        Page 47
    The market day
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
    The two mammas
        Page 52
        Page 53
    Melly, Anna and Susy
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
    Arthur and his apple tree
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
    The motherless birds
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
    Story about a robber
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
    Good companions
        Page 67
    Bertie's box
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
    The child and flower
        Page 71
    Anne Cleaveland
        Page 72
        Page 73
    The orphan's voyage
        Page 74
        Page 75
    Look up
        Page 76
        Page 77
    The flower that looks up
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
    The wayside flower
        Page 82
        Page 83
    The farmer
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
    The flowers of the field
        Page 87
    My early days
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
    Margaret and Herbert
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
    The bit of garden
        Page 95
        Page 96
    Remember the cake
        Page 97
        Page 98
    Benny's first drawing
        Page 99
        Page 100
    The grey old cottage
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
    The boy found in the snow
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
    The brother and sister
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
    The glow worm
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
    Emily's morning ramble
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
    Flying the kite
        Page 125
        Page 126
    The happy family
        Page 127
        Page 128
    Story about an Indian
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
    Gather the flowers
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
    Jane and her lessons
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
    Harvest song
        Page 140
    Telling secrets
        Page 141
    Agnes and the mouse
        Page 142
    The two robins
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
    The pleasant sail
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
    The sailor boy
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
    The bracelet
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
    No pay - no work
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
    The tree that never fades
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
    Young usher
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
    A good act for another
        Page 166
    A boy reproved by a bird
        Page 167
        Page 168
    The echo
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
    Lizzy and her dog
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
    Julia's sunset walk
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
    Flora and her portrait
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
    The portrait of flora purchased
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
    The saint's rest
        Page 187
    A good mother
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
    Mother's last lesson
        Page 191
        Page 192
    The golden crown
        Page 193
    Early at school
        Page 194
        Page 195
    The plum boys
        Page 196
        Page 197
    George and his dog
        Page 198
        Page 199
    The first dollar
        Page 200
        Page 201
    The shepherd and his Bible
        Page 202
    Revelation of God's holy word
        Page 203
    Pleasant play
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
    George and his guinea
        Page 207
        Page 208
    The Jew and his daughter
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
    Chinese proverbs
        Page 213
        Page 214
    Comfort and sobriety
        Page 215
        Page 216
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text



The Baldwin Library
Qm! of

The Baldwin Library

d Ls~-e~










No. 62 CoaHILL.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in theyear 1S51,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of

Printed by George C. Rand & Co.,
No. 8 Cornhill, Boston.


IN preparing this volume of stories for
young readers, the writer has had in view
their instruction, by presenting to them the
duties of their station in a familiar and in-
structive story. Each story contains a moral,
and teaches principles by which the youth
should be governed in their private, social
and public relations in life. In the perusal
of these stories, we hope to accomplish our
great object, of aiding young persons to pur-
sue the peaceful and pleasant path of duty -
to render them more useful in the world, and
to grow wiser and happier in the path of life.



A LITTLE boy, by the name of Bertie,
was taken very ill, and for sometime con-
tinued to grow weaker until he died. A
few hours before his death he revived up,
and his first request was, to be bathed in
the river; but his mother persuaded him
to be sponged only, as the river water
would be too cold for his weak frame.
After his mother had sponged him with
water, he desired to be dressed; when
his mother dressed him in his green coat
and white collar, and seated him at the
table with all his books and worldly.treas-
1 **^i1^~


ures around him. As he sat there, one
would have thought that he was about to
commence a course of study; and yet in
the marble paleness of his features, and in
the listless and languid eye, there was
evidence that life in the boy was like an
expiring taper, flickering in the socket.
He soon asked to go out in his little car-
riage. His grandfather, whom he very
much loved, placed him in it, and care-
fully avoiding every stone, drew him to a
spot commanding the entire landscape.
The tide was up, and the sun was shining
on the deep blue waters, and bathing the
distant mountains and the green meadows
in liquid gold. The gardens and or-
chards around were gay in the rich crim-
son blossoms of the apple tree; the air
was filled with the sweet fragrance of
flowers, and the birds were singing beau-
tifully, when little Bertie looked for the
last time on the scenes of earth. He


could not remain long, and was soon taken
back to the little parlor, where he sat on
the sofa, resting his elbows on the table.
It was not long before the little boy died.
But he was very happy. Among his last
words were these, addressed to his little
sister three years old: Well, Emmie,
very ill -me going to Jesus." Oh,
mamma, Emmie loves her Saviour."


A BRIGHT eyed boy was sleeping upon
a bank of blossoming clover. The cool
breeze lifted the curls from his brow, and
fanned with downy wings his quiet slum-
bers, while he lay under the refreshing
shade of a large maple tree. The birds
sang to him during his happy hours of
sleep. By and by he awoke, and a beau-
tiful gold robin sat on the spray, and sung


a song of joy. The boy reached out his
hands to secure the prize, but the robin
spread his golden wings and soared away.
He looked after it with a longing gaze,
and when it disappeared from his sight,
he wept aloud. At this moment, a form
of light approached, and took the hands
of the child and pointed upwards; and
he saw the bird soaring in freedom and
the sun shining upon its burnished plumes.
Then the shining one said: Do you
love that beautiful bird ? In the midst
of his tears the child replied, Oh, yes."
" Then," said the angel, shall it not
wing its flight from flower to flower and be
happy, rather than to dwell in a prison
with thee ?" Then the streams and flow-
ering vales of Elysium, that breathe the
pure air of freedom, spake: Wouldst
thou bring her back to thee, and make
her a prisoner ? Dry up thy tears, and
let thy song be, Stay not here, but


speed thy flight, 0 bright one, and snuff
the mellow air of freedom.' God made
the birds to be happy in their short exist-
ence, and ought we to deprive them of
their own elements of happiness, and
take from them the freedom which they
enjoy ? "


A LITTLE girl, by the name of Sarah
Dean, was taught the precepts of the
Bible by her mother. One day she came
to her mother very much delighted, to
show her some plums that a friend had
given her. The mother said to her:
Your friend was very kind, and has
given you a great many." "Yes," re-
plied Sarah, she was, and she gave me "
more than these, but I have given some
away." The mother asked to whom she


had given them; when the child replied:
" I gave them to a girl that pushes me
off the path, and makes faces at me."
Upon being asked why she gave them to
her, she answered: Because I thought
that would make her know that I wished
to be kind to her, and perhaps she will
not be unkind and rude to me again."
This was true. The rude girl was after-
wards very good to Sarah, and felt very
sorry that she had treated her unkindly.
How truly did the little girl obey the
command, overcome evil with good."


IT was on a Sabbath eve, when at a
friend's house, we were all sitting in the
piazza, conversing about the efforts which
were being made for the poor heathen,
and the number of Testaments which
were being sent to them.


"Father," said little Harriet, "do the
little heathen children wish to learn to
read the New Testament ?"
0 yes, my child, many of them do,"
said the father. But have they all got
Testaments if they did know how to
read ?" "No, my love; few of them
"--e ever heard about the Testament,
about God, or about Jesus Christ." Will
half a dollar buy one ?" said Harriet.
" 0 yes, my child."
"Then," said Harriet, "may I sell
anything I have, if I can get the
money ?" Her father told her she might.
Now, every child has some favorite toy.
Harriet's was a beautiful tame gray squir-
rel. It would eat from her hands, attend
her in her rambles, and steep on her
pillow. She called its name Jenny. It
was taken sick, and the little girl,.Aursed
it with care, but it at last died in her lap.
Little Harriet wept sadly about it, and


her father tried to console her, and told
her not to feel so.
"Ah," said she, "you know, father,
you told me that I might sell anything I
had to buy a Testament for the heathen
children, and I was going to sell my
pretty squirrel to Mr. Smith, who said he
would give me half a dollar for it; but
now my Jenny is dead." The Father
then put a silver dollar into Harriet's
hand, and she dried her tears, rejoicing
that Jenny's death would be the means
of his little daughter having two or three
Testaments instead of one.


A TEACHER in a Sabbath School prom-
ised to supply all the children in his class
with a catechism, who had none.
One of the little girls went home from


the school after the books were given out
and said: -
Mamma, if I had told a lie to-day, I
would have got a catechism."
"I think that very strange, Eliza; for
the Sabbath School is no place for lies,
and if you could be so wicked, I know
your teacher would not have rewarded
you for.it."
Mother," said Eliza, "I tell nothing
but the truth; and now I will explain it.
You know I went to school this morn-
ing with the other girls. They told me
on the way how their mother had bought
each of them a new catechism on last
market day, and they said, if I once saw
how pretty their books were I would not
look at my old one any more. Our
teacher asked us all, when we went in,
if we had any catechisms, and those who
said they had not, received one from the
teacher as a present. Jane, after all she


told me, by the way, denied that she had
any, and Lizzy did the same. But when
he asked me, I told him I had one at
home; but if I had said no, I would have
got a new one."
Her mother then told her that she
should be rewarded for not telling a lie
by giving her a new book and a new


A POOR Arabian of the desert was one
day asked, how he came to be assured
that there was a God.
In the same way," he replied, "that
I am enabled to tell by a print impressed
on the sand, whether it was a man or
beast that passed that way."
THANKFULNESS. Walking along Bish-
opgate street one morning, I saw two men


standing as if amazed at something that
had happened.
"Pray, gentlemen," said I, what is
the matter ?"
One of them informed me that a gen-
teelly dressed man had hastily come up
to him, and tapping him on the shoulder,
had said:
Sir, did you ever thank God for your
reason ? "
No," said I, not particularly."
Well," said he, do it now, for I
have lost mine ;" when he marched off
with great speed.

HONESTY. An honest boy, whose
sister was sick and the family in want,
found a wallet containing fifty dollars.
The temptation was great to use the
money; but he resolved to find the owner.
He did so; when the owner, learnintj
circumstances of the family, gave te



fifty dollars for their comfort. He took
the boy to live with him. That boy is a
prosperous merchant in Ohio.

Sunday a lady called to her little boy,
who was shooting marbles on the pave-
ment, to come into the house.
Don't you know you shouldn't be out
there, my son ? Go into the back yard,
if you want to play marbles; it is Sun-
Yes, mother; but aint it Sunday in
the back yard ?


A LITTLE boy who had been out early
in the morning playing on the lawn be-
fore his father's house, while the dew


drops lay on the grass, was soon after
seen returning to the spot, and finding
them all gone, he sat down to weep. His
father asked him why he wept.
"Because," said he, "the beautiful
dew drops are gone."
His father tried to soothe him, buth
continued weeping. Just then a
passed over, and on the cloud the be
ful rainbow had cast its arch.
There, see, my son," said the father,
"there are all your dew drops; the sun
has taken them up only to set them forth
in greater brightness in the sky."

" 0 father, dear father, why pass they away,
The dew drops that sparkled at dawning of day,
That glittered like stars in the light of the moon ;
Oh, why are the dew drops dissolving so soon?
Does the-sun in his wrath chEae their brightness away,
As if nothing that's lovely might live for a day?
The moonlight is faded, the flowers still remain,
But the dew drops have shrunk to their petals again."
"My child," said the father, "look up to the skies,
Behold that bright rainbow, those beautiful dyes,
., *


There, there are the dew drops in glory reset,
Mid the jewels of heaven, they are glittering yet.
Oh, are we not taught by each beautiful ray
Tomourn not earth's fair things,though passing away;
For though youth of its beauty and brightness be riven,
All that withers on earth blooms moresweetly in heaven.
Look up," said the father, "look up totheskies,
Hope sits on the wings of those beautiful dyes."


MY young readers may have heard
about the poor people in London. The
following story is a specimen of the hard-
ships of many young girls in that famous
Two young women occupied one
small room of about ten feet by eight.
They were left orphans, and were obliged
to take care of themselves. Many of the
articles of furniture left them had been
disposed of to supply the calls of urgent
want. In the room was an old four post


bedstead, with curtains almost worn out,
one mattress with two small pillows, a
bolster that was almost flat, three old
blankets and cotton sheets, of coarse
description, three rush-bottom chairs, an
old claw table, a chest of draws with a
few battered band-boxes on the top of it,
a miserable bit of carpet before the fire-
place, a wooden box for coals, a little tin
fender and an old poker. What there
was, however, was kept clean, the floor
and yellow paint was clean, and the
washing tub which sat in one corner of
the room.
"It was a bitter cold night, the wind
blew and shodk the window, when a
young girl of about eighteen sat by the
tallow candle, which burned in a tin can-
dlestick, at 12 o'clock at night, finishing
a piece of work with the needle which
she was to return' next morning; Her
name was Lettice Arnold. She was


naturally of a cheerful, hopeful temper,
and though work and disappointment had
faded the bright colors of hope, still hope
buoyed up her spirits.
"Her sister Myra was delicate, and
lay on the mattress on that night, tossing
about with suffering, unable to rest. At
last Lettice says to her -
"'Poor-Myra, can't you get to sleep ?'
'It is so cold,' was the reply; and
when will you have done and come to
bed ?'
"'One quarter of an hour more,
Myra, and I shall have finished my work,
and then I will throw my clothes over
your feet, and I hope you will be a little
Myra sighed, and lifted up her head,
and leaning upon her arm watched the
progress of her sister as she plied the
needle to her work.
"'How slowly,' said Myra,' you do


get along. It is one o'clock, and you
have not finished yet.'
"' I cannot work fast, Myra, and neat-
ly too; my hands are not so delicate and
nimble as yours,' and smiling a little, she
added: Such swelled clumsy things, I
cannot get over the ground nimbly and
well at the same time. You are a fine
race horse, and I a drudging pony. But
I shall soon be through.'
Myra once more uttered a sigh and
"' Oh, my feet are dreadful cold.'
"'Take this bit of flannel,' said Let-
tice,' and let me wrap them up.'
"'Nay, you will want it,' she replied.
Oh, I have only five minutes to sit
up, and I can wrap this piece of carpet
round mine,' said Lettice.
"And she laid down her work and
went to the bed, and wrapped hersister's
icy feet in the flannel, and then et down


and finished her task. How glad was
Lettice to creep to the mattress and to
lay her aching limbs upon it. A hard
bed and scanty covering in a cold night
are keenly felt. She soon fell asleep,
while her sister tossed and murmured on
account of the cold.
Lettice awoke and drew her own little
pillow from under her head, and put it
under her sister's, and tried every way
to make her sister comfortable, and she
partly succeeded; and at last Myra, the
delicate suffering creature, fell asleep, and
Lettice slumbered like a child."
How thankful ought we to be for kind
parents, a comfortable home, and a good
fire in a cold night. I will tell you in
the next story what Lettice did with her



EARLY in the morning, before it was
light, and while the twilight gleamed
through the curtainless windows, Lettice
was up, dressing herself by the aid of the
light which gleamed from the street lamp
into the window. She combed her hair
with modest neatness, then opened the
draw with much precaution, lest she
should disturb poor Myra, who still slum-
bered on the hard mattress drew out a
shawl and began to fold it as if to put
it on.
Alas!" said Lettice, this will not
do it is threadbare, timeworn, and has
given way in two places." She turned
it, and unfolded it, but it would not do.
It was so shabby that she was actually
ashamed to be seen with it in the street.



She put it aside, and took the liberty of
borrowing Myra's, who was now asleep.
She knew Myra would be awful cold
when she got up, and would need it.
But she must go with the work that
morning. She thought first of preparing
the fire, so that Myra, when she arose,
would only have to light the match; but
as she went to the box for coal she saw,
with terror, how low the little store of
fuel was, 'and she said to herself, "we
must have a bushel of coal to-day bet-
ter do without meat than fire such
weather as this." But she was cheered
with the reflection that she should re-
ceive a little more for her work that day
than what she had from other places. It
had been ordered by a benevolent lady
who had been to some trouble in getting
the poor women supphe&i th needle work
so that they should receive the full price.
She had worked for private customers


before, and always received more pay
from them than from the shops in Lon-
don, where they would beat down the
poor to the last penny.
Poor Lettice went to the old band-box
and took out a shabby old bonnet she
looked at it, and sighed, when she
thought of the appearance she must
make; for she was going to Mrs. Dan-
vers, and her work was some very nice
linen for a young lady about to be
Just at this moment she thought of the
contrast, between all the fine things which
that young lady was to have, and her
own destitution. But her disposition was
such as not to cause her to think hard of
others who had plenty while she was
poor. She was contented to receive her
pay from the wealthy, for her daily nee-
dle work. She felt that what they had,
was not taken from her, and if she could


gain in her little way by receiving her
just earnings from the general prosperity
of others, she would not complain. And
as the thought of the increased pay came
into her mind, which she was to receive
that day, she brightened up, shook the
bonnet, pulled out the ribbons and made
it look as tidy as possible, thinking to
herself that after buying some fuel she
might possibly buy a bit of ribbon and
make it look a little more spruce, when
she got her money.
Lettice now put on her bonnet, and
Myra's shawl, and looking into the little
three-penny glass which hung on the wall
she thought she might look quite tidy after
all. The young lady for whom she made
the linen lived about twenty miles from
town, but she had come in about this
time, and was to set off home at nine
o'clock that very morning. The linen
was to have been sent in the night before,


but Lettice had found it impossible to fin-
ish it. This was why she was obliged to
start so early in the morning. She now
goes to the bed to tell Myra about the
fire, and that she had borrowed her
shawl, but Myra was sound asleep, so
she did not disturb her, but stepped light-
ly over the floor and down stairs, for it
was getting late and she must be gone.
Read the next story and you will be
deeply interested in the result.


I MUST tell you who were Lettice and
Myra. They were the daughters of a
clergyman, who held the little vicarage
of Castle Rising. But misfortune, which
sometimes meets the wise and good, re-


duced the family to poor circumstances.
After the parents' decease, Lettice and
Myra located in London, for the purpose
of doing needlework for a living.
We said in the last story, that Lettice
had entered the street and was on her
way with the work she had finished for
the young lady. It was a cold morning,
the snow blew, and the street was slip-
pery. She could scarcely stand -her
face was cold, and her hands so numbed
that she could scarcely hold the parcel
she carried. The snow beat upon her
poor bonnet, but she comforted herself
with the idea that she might be supposed
to have a better bonnet at home. She
cheerfully trudged along, and at last
entered Grosvenor Square, where the
lamps were just dying away before the
splendid houses, while the wind rushed
down the Park colder than ever. A few
boys were about the only people yet to


be seen about, and they laughed at her.as
she held her bonnet down with one hand,
to prevent its giving way before the wind,
while she carried her bundle and kept
her shawl from flying up with the other.
At last she entered Green street, and
came to the house of the kind lady who
had furnished her and many others with
work; raised the knocker, and gave one
humble knock at the door. She had
never been at the house before, but she
had sometimes had to go to other genteel
houses where she had been met with inci-
vility by the domestics.
But "like master, like man," is a
stale old proverb and full of truth. The
servant came to the door. He was a
grave old man about fifty. His counte-
nance was full of kind meaning, and his
manners so gentle, that before hearing
her errand, observing how cold she look-


ed, bade her come in and warm herself
at the hall stove.
"I have come," said Lettice, with
the young lady's work I had not time
to come last night, but I hope I have not
put her to any inconvenience -I started
before light this morning."
"Well, my dear, I hope not," said the
servant, but it was a pity you could not
get it done last night. Mrs. Danvers
likes to have people exact to the moment.
However, I dare say it will be all right."
As Reynolds, the servant-man, entered
the drawing room, Lettice heard a voice,
" Is it come at last !" And the young
lady, who thus inquired, was Catherine
Melvin, who was then making an early
breakfast before a noble blazing fire.
"Has the woman brought her bill,"
asked Mrs. Danvers.
"I will go and ask," said the servant.
Stay, ask her to come up. I should


like to inquire how she is getting along
this cold weather."
Reynolds obeyed, and soon Lettice
found herself in a warm, comfortable
breakfast room.
"Good morning," said Mrs. Danvers.
"I am sorry you have had such a cold
walk this morning. I am sorry you could
not come last night. This young lady is
just leaving, and there is barely time to
put up the things." Catherine (for this
was the young lady's name,) had her back
turned to the door quietly continuing her
breakfast, but when the gentle voice of
Lettice replied:
Indeed, madam, I beg your pardon,
I did my very best" Catherine start-
ed, looked up, and rose hastily from her
chair- Lettice, advancing a few steps,
exclaimed Catherine."
And Catherine exclaimed -" It is -
it is you! and coming forward and


taking her by the hand, she gazed with
astonishment at the wan face and the
miserable attire of the work-woman.
"You," she kept repeating. Lettice!
Lettice Arnold! Good Heavens! Where
is your father? your mother? your
sister ?"
Gone," said the poor girl, all gone
but poor Myra!"
And where is she ? And you, dear
Lettice, how have you come to this ? "
Such was the unexpected meeting of
these two persons, who were once chil-
dren of the same village of Castle Rising.
Lettice had been working for her school-
mate, Catherine Melvin. The result was
a happy one, and it was not long before,
by the kindness of Catherine, that the
two orphan girls were situated pleasantly
in life. But as you will wish to know
how all this came about, I will give you
the circumstances in another story.



LETTICE'S father was a man of educa-
tion, a scholar, a gentleman, and had
much power in preaching. He received
one hundred and ten pounds per year for
his services. Her father's illness was
long and painful, and the family were
dependant on others for assistance.
We at last closed his eyes," said Let-
tice, "in deep sorrow." He used to say
to himself, "It is a rough road, but it
leads to a good place."
After his funeral, the expenses ex-
hausted all that was left of their money
- only a few pounds were left when the
furniture was sold, and we were
obliged," said Lettice, "to give up the
dear little parsonage. It was a sweet
little place. The house was covered all
over with honeyauckles and jessamines;


and there was the flower garden in which
I used to work, and which made me so
hale and strong, and aunt Montague used
to say I was worth a whole bundle of fine
It was a sad day when we parted
from it. My poor mother! How she
kept looking back, striving not to cry,
and poor Myra was drowned in tears.
Then we afterwards came to London.
A person whom we knew in the village
had a son who was employed in one of the
great linen warehouses, and he promised
to try to get us needlework. So we
came to London, took a small lodging,
and furnished it with the remnant of our
furniture. Here we worked fourteen
hours a day apiece, and we could only
gain between three and four shillings
each. At last mother died, and then all
went; she died, and had a pauper's


From this room the orphan girls re-
moved soon after their mother's decease,
and located among, the poor of Maryle-
bone street. where Mrs. Danvers acci-
dentally met with the two sisters, in one
of her visits among the poor, and for whom
she obtained the work which led to the
unexpected meeting related in the pre-
vious story.



A HORSE is a noble animal, and is
made for the service of man. No one
who has tender feelings can bear to see
the horse abused. It is wicked for any
one to do so. A horse has a good mem-
ory, and he will never forget a kind mas-
ter. Jonas Carter is one of those boys
who likes to take care of a horse. His
father gave Jonas the whole care of an
excellent animal which he purchased for
his own use. Every morning he would


go into the stable to feed and water him.
As all the horses in the neighborhood
had names, Jonas gave one to his, and
called him Major. Every time he went
into the stable to take care of him,
Major would whine and paw, as if his
best friend was coming to see him. Jo-
nas kept him very clean and nice, so
that he was always ready for use at any
time of day. At night h3 made up his
bed of straw, and kept the stable warm
in winter and cool in summer. Major
soon found that he was in the hands of a
kind master, and being well fed, and well
cleansed, he would often show how proud
and nice he was, by playing with Jonas
in the yard. His young master would
often let him loose in the yard, and when
Jonas started to go in, the horse, Major,
would follow him to the door, and when
he turned him into the pasture, no one
could so well catch him as Jonas; for


every time he took him from the pasture,
Jonas would give him some oats; so
when he saw his master coming for him,
he remembered the oats, and would come
directly to him. Some horses are very
difficult to bridle, but it was not so with
Major. When Jonas came with the
bridle, Major would hold his head down,
and take in his bitts, and appear as
docile as a lamb. He well knew that
Jonas never drove him hard, but always
used him kindly. Jonas was not a sel-
fish boy; he was willing to let his friends
ride a short distance; and in the picture,
you will see him talking with one of his
young friends about his horse.
Now, children, you may be sure that
a dumb animal will remember his kind
master; and if ever you own a horse, or
drive one which belongs to another, be
sure and treat him kindly. And you
will find this rule to work well among


yourselves. Be kind to each other, and
to all whom you meet with, and it will
help you along the pleasant path of life,
and secure to you many friends.


EDWARD FORD owned a snug little cot-
tage with a small farm situated about
a mile from the village. When he was
married to Ellen G -, who was said
to be one of the best girls in the vil-
lage, he took her to his nice little home,
where he had every thing around
very pleasant and comfortable. Ellen
was very industrious and remarkable for
her prudence and neatness. She spun
and churned, and tended her poultry,
and would often carry her butter and
eggs herself to market, which greatly
added to their comfort. She had a beau-


tiful little girl, and they gave her the
name of Lily. Things glided smoothly
on until Lily was sixteen. Edward was
very fond of the violin and of reading
books that were not very useful, and as he
was very fond of music, he spent a great
deal more time in making music and play-
ing the violin than what his wife thought
profitable. Ellen loved music, and was
willing to have him read profitable books,
but all this while she thought he might
be patching up the fences and improving
the shed for the better comfort of the
cattle. Still she would not complain,
hoping all the time that he would see the
necessity of being a little more industri-
ous. The winter came, and all through
its dreary months he was unable to work,
as he was sick. And although Ellen
worked hard, yet her husband required
so much of her attention, that all her
efforts availed not much to keep poverty


out of their cottage. When the spring
came, Ellen's husband was able to be
about again, and she began to hope that
Edward would be more industrious, and
they would be able by strict economy to
repair the loss occasioned by his winter's
illness, which had put them so far behind-
hand. Edward had become lazy or dis-
heartened. Affairs about house continued
to grow worse; his farm was ill worked
or neglected, and by the fall, his horse
and oxen had to go for necessary ex-
penses. Ellen still kept her cows, but it
was now very little help she received from
her husband. He had been formerly one
of the most temperate of men, but now
he spent his days from home; and here
lay Ellen's deepest sorrow. He was
often at the village tavern, wasting in
senseless riot the time, health and means
that God had given him for other pur-


poses. Ellen felt sad, and in the next
story you will see a painful scene in the
life of
IT wat not in the latter part of De-
cember two days more and comes the
season of "Merry Christmas." Ellen
thought of the dreary prospect before her.
As she was thinking over her condition,
and how she should manage affairs so as
to make home comfortable, the door
opened, and in came Edward earlier than
usual, a sober man. With a grateful
heart Ellen sat about preparing the sup-
per, and made all the evening as pleasant
as she could for him.
The next morning earlier than usual
Edward was preparing to go out. The
weather was bitter cold, and the wood
pile was very low. She did not like to
ask Edward to split some wood the eve-


ning before, as she did not wish to vex
him. Of late he had harshly refused her
simple requests. She, however, ventured
this morning to ask him to split a few logs,
and he replied:
Why did yd not ask ine when you
saw me doing nothing all last evening?
You must get along the best way you can
until night. I have engaged to work for
Squire Davis, and I shall be late unless I
go at once."
"To work Have you? said Ellen,
* in a pleased and grateful tone.
Yes; so don't detain me. I am to
have a dollar and a half a day as long as
I choose to work."
How very fortunate! said Ellen.
After he was gone, Ellen busied her-
self in making things comfortable for the
children. It was market day, and she
must carry her heavy basket to the vil-
lage for the different families who de-


pended upon her for their supply of fresh
butter and eggs. A year ago she had a
neat little wagon and a good horse to
drive. There was something in the mind
of Ellen, what it was she could not tell,
a kind of sad presentinAt of something,
as she was preparing to go to market. I
shall tell you in the next story what it
was. You will see that Ellen was very
kind to her husband, and tried every way
to make him happy.


MRS. FORD had three little children,
Lily, Hetty, and a dear little babe. As
she was now going to market, she told
Lily, her. oldest daughter, to take good
care of the baby. Lily promised to do
so. It was a very cold day. For a time
the children got along very well; but.


soon the wood was all burned, not a stick
or chip remained; as their father had
gone away in the morning without split-
ting any, so they were obliged to do the
best they could. The baby began to
look as if it was ?old, and Lily said:
Come, Hetty, we will go out and see
if together we cannot roll in one of those
great logs."
Hetty was eleven years old. Lily put
the baby in the cradle and then went out
with Hetty to roll in the log. They
0 rolled it up to the step, and got it part
way into the door, but, alas! they could
not get it further. There it stuck in the
doorway, and the door was wide open;
the wind and snow beat in from without,
and the fire gradually settled away in its
Something must now be done. Hetty
put on her cloak and hood and set out for
her mother; for she told them if anya


thing happened to be sure and come for
her. Hetty soon found her mother at
the village store, and without stopping to
warm herself, she said:
0 mother, come home, for little Eddy
is sick, and Lily says i is the croup, and
that he is dying. The fire is all out, and
the room is full of snow, because the big
log we tried to roll in stuck fast in the
Hetty and her mother hastened home;
and as they were crossing the street,
there was her husband just entering the t
tavern. She told him about little Eddy,
and he promised to go for a physician,
and to come home immediately; and by
the time they had gone half way home,
Edward, her husband, joined them.
They hurried along, and as they came
near the cottage there stood two of the
cows, and under the shed was the third,
the old "spotted cow," which Hetty


thought was in the pond when she left
home. To their surprise the log was
rolled away from the door, and as Mrs.
Ford opened the door with a trembling
hand, fearing her baby was dead, there
was a young man sitting by a good fire,
which he had made while Hetty was
gone, with little Eddy folded in his arms.
The anxious mother bent over her baby
as he lay in the stranger's arms, and see-
ing his eyes closed, she whispered:
"Is he dead?"
"He is not, he only sleeps," replied
the stranger.
This young man came into the house
in time to .save the baby from the cold
chills of death. He was ever after a
friend to the family a means of Ed-
ward's reformation, so that with some as-
sistance the mortgage on the farm was
paid off, and the farm re-stocked. T4i
stranger became the husband of Lily, the
eldest daughter.




'Tis strange to talk of two mammas!
Well, come and sit by me,
And I will try to tell you how
So strange a thing can be.

Years since you had a dear mamma,
So gentle, good and mild,
Her Father God looked down from heaven,
And loved his humble child.
Thy first mamma died on board of the vessel which
took her from Burmah. At parting-
She kissed her little boys
With white and quivering lip;
And while the tears were falling fast,
They bore her to the ship.

And Abby, Pwen, and Enna went -
Oh! it was sad to be
Thus parted- three upon the land,
And three upon the sea.
Thy first mamma was buried on a distant rocky isle,
where none but strangers rest. The vessel passed on
her voyage, and *
At length they reached a distant shore,
A beautiful bright land,
And crowds of pitying strangers came,
And took them by the hand.


And Abby found a pleasant home,
And Pwen and Enna too;
But poor papa's sad thoughts turned back
To Burmah and to you.

He told me of his darling boys,
Poor orphans far away,
With no mamma to kiss their lips,
Or teach them how to pray.

And would I be their new mamma,
And join the little band
Of those who, for the Saviour's sake,
Dwell in a heathen land?

Much do I love my darling boys,
And much do they love me;
Our Heavenly Father sent me here,
Your new mamma to be.

And if I closely follow Him,
And hold your little hands,
I hope to lead you up to heaven,
To join the angel bands.

Then with papa and both mammas,
And her who went before,
And Christ, who loves you more than all,
Ye'll dwell for ever more.
Mas. Jcnsox.


S" .


THERE is nothing more pleasant than
to see brothers and sisters, lovely in their
lives, and in all their plays kind and
obliging to each other. Mrs. Jones' three
little children were always noted for their
good behavior by all the people in the
village, and the school teacher said they
were the prettiest behaved children she
ever saw, and this was saying much in


their praise, for her scholars were noted
for very good behavior and promptness in
their recitations. Mrs. Jones kept her
children under a good discipline, but she
always gave them time and opportunities
for their pleasant plays. She would not
allow them to associate with vicious chil-
dren, because evil communications cor-
rupt good manners," and she knew her
children were as liable to fall into bad
habits as any others. There were a few
vicious boys in the village where she lived
who always took delight in teasing and
vexing the other children, and sometimes
these boys would try some method to
break up the children's play.
One afternoon, there being no school,
Mrs. Jones gave her little children per-
mission to go into the lower back-room
Sand spend awhile in play.; Away &hey
jumped and skipped along down stairs to
the play room, with merry hearts and


smiling faces. They had not been there
a long time before they heard a very
singular noise, which they did not know
what to make of. But they soon forgot
it, and continued playing with the same
cheerfulness; very soon again they heard
the same noise, which sounded like some-
body's voice. The children began to be
a little frightened, and you will see them
in the picture standing "stock still,"
while little Susy stretches her hand out
to take hold of the post, and is in the
act of running away. Melly and Anna
put their fingers to their lips, and listened
again to know what the noise could mean.
Soon the noise was repeated, and away
they flew to their mother's arms in such
a tremor that she felt at the moment
alarmed herself. .They told their mother
what had happened, and all that night
the children could not sleep.
It was ascertained the next day that


one of the bad boys crept along in the
back part of the yard where the children
were playing, and by an unnatural sound
of his voice made the noise that so
alarmed the three little children. Susy,
who was the youngest, did not forget it
for sometime; and all of them were afraid
to go alone into the lower room for many
This was very wrong in the bad boy;
he might have injured the children at
play so they would never have recovered
from it. I have known young children
to be so frightened as never to forget the
impression all their life-time. How much
better for the boy to have been like these
good children, and joined with them in
their pleasant pastimes. Never do any
thing that will give sorrow and pain to
others, but live and act towards eaoC
other while in youth, so as to enable yon
to review your life with pleasure, and to


meet with the approbation of your
Heavenly Father.


ONE summer day little William was
sitting in the garden chair beside his
mother, under the shade of a large cherry
tree which stood on the grass plot in frnht
of the house. He was reading in a little
book. After he had been reading some-
time, he looked up to his mother, and
Mother, will you tell me what is the
meaning of 'you must return good for
evil?' "
His mother replied: I will tell you a
story that will explain it.
"I knew little boy," she said, whose
name was Arthur Scott; he lived with his
grandmamma, who loved him.very much,


and who wished that he might grow up
to be a good man. Little Arthur had a
garden of his own, and in it grew an
apple tree, which was then very small,
but to his great joy had upon it two fine
rosy-cheeked apples, the first ones it had
produced. Arthur wished to taste of
them very much to know if they were
sweet or sour; but he was not a selfish
boy, and he says to his grandmother one
"' I think I shall leave my apples on
the tree till my birthday, then papa and
mamma and sister Fanny will come and
see me, and we will eat them together.'
"' A very good thought,' said his
grandmother; and you shall gather
them yourself.'
"It seemed a long time for him to
wait; but the birthday came at last, and
in the morning as soon as he was dressed
he ran into his garden to gather his apples;


but lo they were gone. A naughty boy
who saw them hanging on the tree, had
climbed over the garden wall and stolen
Arthur felt very sorry about losing
his apples, and he began to cry, but he
soon wiped his eyes, and said to his
It is hard to lose my nice apples,
but it was much worse for that naughty
boy to commit so great a sin as to steal
them. I am sure God must be very
angry with him; and I will go and kneel
down and ask God to forgive him.'
So he went and prayed for the boy
who had stolen his apples. Now, William,
do you not think that was returning good
for evil? "
0, yes," said William; and I thank
you, mother, for your pretty story. I
now understand what my new book
means." Little Arthur grew to be a man,
and always bore a good name.



THERE were two men who were neigh-
bors to each other, living in a distant
country where they had to labor hard for
the support of their families. One of
them was greatly troubled to know who
would take care of his children if he
should die. But the other man was not
so troubled, and was always very cheerful,


saying to his neighbor: Never distrust
One day as the sorrowful man was
laboring in the fields, sad and cast down,
he saw some little birds enter a bush, go
out and then return again. He went
towards the bush, and saw two nests side
by side, and in both nests some little
birds, newly hatched and still without
feathers. He saw the old birds go in a
number of times, and they carried in
their bills food to give their little ones.
At one time, as one of the mothers re-
turned with her beak full, a large vulture
seized her and carried her away; and
the poor mother, struggling vainly under
its talons, uttered piercing cries. He
thought the little young birds must cer-
tainly die, as they had now no mother to
take care of them. He felt so bad about
them that he did not sleep any that night.
The next day, on returning to the fields,


he said to himself: I will see the little
ones of this poor mother, some without
doubt have already perished."
He went up to the bush, and saw that
the little ones in both nests were all alive
and well. He was very much surprised
at this, and he hid himself behind the
bush to see what would happen. After a
little time he heard a crying of the birds,
and soon the second mother came flying
into the bush with her beak full of food,
and distributed it all among the little
birds in both nests. He now saw that
the orphan birds were as well provided
for as when their own mother was living.
In the evening he related the whole
story to his neighbor, and said to him:
"I will never distress myself again
about who will take care of my children,
if I should die before them."
His neighbor replied: Let us always
believe, hope, love, and pursue our course


in peace. If you die before me, I will
take care of your children, and if I die
before you, you will be a father to mine;
and if we are both taken away before our
children are able to provide for them-
selves, there is a Father in heaven."


I WILL tell you a true story about a
robber. A gentleman was once travelling
through a very unfrequented road, alone
in a chaise, in the latter part of the day.
There was no house nor a sign of a human
being there. It was a very lonely road.
Presently at a sudden turn in the road,
directly towards his horse's head, a man
came out of the woods. The gentleman
was convinced by his appearance that he
came for no good purpose. He immedi-
ately stopped his horse, and asked the


stranger to get in and ride. The man
hesitated a moment, and then stepped
into the chaise. The gentleman com-
menced talking with him about the loneli-
ness of the road, and observed that it
would be an admirable place for a rob-
bery if any one was so disposed. He
proceeded to speak of robbery and crimi-
nals, and how he thought they should be
sought out and instructed, and if possi-
ble reformed; and that we ought to try
to convert and reform them; and then he
began to tell him what course he should
take with a man who should attempt to
rob him. He told him that he should
give him all his money first, and then
begin to talk kindly to him, and show the
evil consequences of his course of life.
He then said:
Yes, I would die on the spot rather
than to injure a hair of his head."
They soon came to another road, when


the man, who had silently listened to all
the gentleman had said, desired to get
out, saying that his home lay in that di-
rection. The gentleman stopped his
horse, and the man got out, took his ad-
viser by the hand, saying:
I thank you, sir, for this ride and for
all you have said to me; I shall never
forget any part of it. When I met you,
it was my intention to rob you. I could
easily have done so, but your kind act
and your kind words put better thoughts
into my heart. I think I never shall be
guilty of the crime you have saved me
from committing thisafternoon. I thank
God for having met you; you have made
me a better man."



ONE day, says a Persian poet, I saw a
bunch of roses, and in the midst of them
grew a tuft of grass.
"How," I cried to the grass, does a
poor plant like you dare to be found in
the company of roses ? "
And I ran to tear away the tuft, when
the grass replied:
Spare me It is true, I am not a
rose ; but you will perceive from my per-
fume that I have been among the roses."
This is a very pretty fable for young
people. It makes us recollect one of the
proverbs of Solomon: He that walketh
with wise men shall be wise; but a com-
panion of fools shall be destroyed." Young
people like to have companions, and it is
proper that they should have them. If we
had no one to associate with, we should be


unhappy. We need friends that we may
confide in, and that we may tell them
what we feel and what we think. But
we must take care as to the choice of
friends; for just as the grass in the
fable imbibed the scent of the roses, so
we become like those with whom we


A VERY little boy by the name of
'! Bertie," kept a box in which he depos-
ited his little treasures. After he died
his mother took the key and opened it.
It was full of all sorts of things. There
were specimens of stones, and shells, and
moss, and grass, and dried flowers.
There were, also, curious flies, found
dead; but they were not destroyed by
him, as he would never sacrifice a short


sunny existence for self gratification.
There were a number of books and small
ornamental toys which had been given
him a drawing slate with pencils, col-
ored chalks, a small box of colors, some
little plates which he had colored in his
own untaught style-a commenced copy
of the hymn, "I know that my Redeemer
liveth an unfinished letter to his
grandpapa, and some torn leaves which
he had found with passages of scripture
upon them -a copy of the "lines on the
death of an only son." Also a number
of sketches of missionary stations, chap-
els and schools, which he had cut out and
colored. His mother once asked him
why he cut them out, saying, that there
might be some reading on the back of
the pieces worth saving. Oh no, mam-
ma," he replied, I looked carefully at
the backs first." In the box was a purse
containing three shillings.


Such were the treasures which this lit-
tle lamb had left when he died. And as
you will be pleased to know what was
done with the box of treasures, I will tell
you. The thought struck me," says
his mother, that after he was gone, I
should not know what to do with Bertie's
Box of treasures; I therefore asked him
what I should do with them." He re-
plied, Oh, give half to God and half to
the children, and be sure to divide them
fairly." The money in the box was
devoted to the purchase of the Bible -
and a collecting box made in the form of
a Bible; for, said he, "when my friends
come and give money to the children,
then hold Bertie's box for Bertie's
share." This is a good example for all
children. Your little treasures may
serve a good purpose when you die.



Tax Atheist in his garden stood,
At twilight's pensive hour,
His little daughter by his side,
Was gazing on a flower.

"Oh, pick that little blossom, Pa,"
The little prattler said,
"It is the fairest one that blooms
Within that lowly bed."

The father plucked the chosen flower,
And gave it to his child;
With parted lips and sparkling eye,
She seized the gift and smiled.

"0 Pa who made this pretty flower,
This little violet blue;
Who gave it such a fragrant smell,
And such a lovely hue ? "

A change came o'er the father's brow,
His eye grew strangely wild,'
New thoughts within him had been stirred
By that sweet artless child.

The truth flashed on the father's mind,
The truth in all its power,
"There is a God, my child," said he,
Who made that little flower."



ANNE was the daughter of a wealthy
farmer. She had a good New England
school education, and was well bred and
well taught at home in the virtues and
manners that constitute domestic social
life. Her father died a year before her
marriage. He left a will dividing his
property equally between his son and
daughter, giving to the son the homestead
with all its accumulated riches, and to
the daughter the largest share of the per-
sonal property, amounting to 6 or 7000
dollars. This little fortune became at
Anne's marriage the property of her hus-
band. It would seem that the property
of a woman received from her father
should be her's. But the laws of a bar-
barous age fix it otherwise.
Anne married John Warren, who was


the youngest child, daintily bred by his
parents. He opened a dry goods store
in a small town in the vicinity of B -,
where he invested Anne's property. He
was a farmer, and did not think of the
qualifications necessary to a successful
merchant. For five or six years he went
on tolerably, living genteelly and reckless-
ly, expecting that every year's gain
would make up the excess of the past.
When sixteen years of their married life
had passed, they were living in a single
room in the crowded street of R -.
Every penny of the inheritance was gone
- three children had died three sur-
vived ; a girl of fifteen years, whom the
mother was educating to be a teacher -
a boy of twelve who was living at home,
and Jessy, a pale, delicate, little strug-
gler for life, three years old.
Mrs. W was much changed in
these sixteen years. Her round bloom-


ing cheek was pale and sunken, her dark
chestnut hair had become thin and gray,
her bright eyes, over-tasked by use and
watching, were faded, and her whole
person shrunken. Yet she had gained a
great victory. Yes, it was a precious
pearl. And you will wish to know what
it was. It was a gentle submission and
resignation a patience under all her
afflictions. But learn a lesson. Take
care to whom you give your hand in


Two little orphan boys, whose parents
died in a foreign land, were put on board
a vessel to be taken home to their rela-
tives and friends. On a bitter cold
night, when the north-east winds sang
through the shrouds of the vessel, the


little boys were crouched on deck behind
a bale of goods, to sleep for the night.
The eldest boy wrapt around his younger
brother his little cloak, to shield him from
the surf and sleet, and then drew him
close to his side and said to him, the
night will not be long, and as the wind
blows we shall the sooner reach our home
and see the peet fire glow." So he tried
to cheer his little brother, and told him to
go to sleep and forget the cold night and
think about the morning that would come.
They both soon sank to sleep on the cold
deck, huddled close to each other, and
locked close in each other's arms. The
steerage passengers were all down below,
snugly stowed away in their warm berths,
and forgot all about the cold wind and
the frost. When the morning came the
land appeared, and the passengers began
to pace the deck, and as the vessel


moved along they tried some well known
spot to trace.

Only the orphans do not stir,
Of all this bustling train;
They reached their home this very night,
They will not stir again !
The winter's breath proved kind to them,
And ended all their pain.
But in their deep and freezing sleep,
Clasped rigid to each other,
In dreams they cried, the bright morn breaks,
Home home! is here, my brother.
The angel death, has been our friend,
We come dear father, mother "


A LITTLE boy went to sea with his
father to learn to be a sailor. One day,
his father said to him, Come, my boy,
you will never be a sailor if you don't
learn to climb."
The boy was very ambitious, and soon
scrambled up to the top of the rigging;


but when he saw at what a height he was
he began to be frightened, and called
out, Oh, father, I shall fall, what shall
I do ? "
Look up -look up, my son," said
his father; "if you look down you will
be giddy; but if you keep looking up to
the flag at the top of the mast you will
descend safely." The boy followed his
father's advice, and soon came down to
the deck of the vessel in safety. You
may learn from this story, to look up to
Jesus, as the highest example, and as the
Saviour of mankind.

~a~ ~JIBCII~S~iBI~~



WHAT beautiful things flowers are,"
said one of the party of little girls who
were arranging the flowers they had
gathered in the pleasant fields. "Which
flower would youi rather be like, Helen ?"
"Just as if there would be a'y choice,"
said Laura. "I like the Rose. I should
like to be queen of flowers, or none."
Laura was naturally very proud.
For my part, observed Helen, I should
like to resemble the Rhododendron; when
any one touches it, or shakes it roughly,
it scatters a shower of honey dew from
its roseate cups, teaching us to shower
blessings upon our enemies. Oh, who
does not wish to be as meek as this flow-
er? It is very difficult, I know, said
Helen; but we are taught to possess a
meek and lowly spirit.


It is difficult, I know," said Lucy,
"if we trust to our own strength. It is
only when my father looks at me in his
kind manner, that I have any control of
myself. What a pity it is that we can-
not always remember that the eye of our
Heavenly Father is upon us." I wish
I could," said Helen.
Now, Clara, we are waiting for you,"
said Laura. Clara smiled; and imme-
diately chose the pale woodbine, or con-
volvulus, which so carelessly winds in
and out among the bushes- this is an
emblem of loving tenderness.
"Now what says Lucy?" exclaimed
"I think I can guess," said Clara;
" either a violet, or a heart's ease. Am
I right ?"
Not quite," said Lucy, "although
both the flowers you have mentioned, are
great favorites of mine. But I think I


should like to resemble the daisy, most,
because it is always looking upward."
Certainly Lucy made a wise choice.
What more do we require for happiness,
than to be able, let the cloud be ever so
dark, to look upward with trusting faith
in God.

4-- .t



THRE'S a moral, my child,
In the wayside flower;
There's an emblem of life
In its short-lived hour.
It smiles in the sunshine
And weeps in the shower,
And the footstep falls
On the wayside flower.

Now see, my dear child,
In the wayside flower,
The joys and the sorrows
Of life's passing hour.
The footsteps of Time
Hasten on in its power;
And soon we must fall
Like the wayside lower.


Yet know, my dear child,
That the wayside flower
Will revive in its season
And bloom its brief hour;
That again we shall blossom
In beauty and power,
Where the foot never falls
On the wayside flower.




THE Farmer ploughs and sows his seed,
'Tis all that he can do;
He cannot make the dry seed grow,
Nor give it rain and dew.

God sends the sunshine, dew and rain,
And covers it with snow;
Then let us thank Him for the gift, -
To Him our bread we owe.

Whenever we view the waving grain,
Or eat our daily food,
Let grateful thoughts to God arise,
Praise Him, for He is good.

The youthful mind is like a field;
Our teachers sow the seed;
But when instruction's work is done,
There's something more we need.

Then let us pray that God may add
His blessing to their toil;
Then our young minds and hearts will prove
A rich, productive soil.



ALL hail the bright, the rosy morn,
The first of blushing May,
While fragrant flowers the fields adorn,
And Nature smiles so gay.

Oh, what ajoyous festival
To all the young and fair,
Who love to rove through verdant fields
And breathe the balmy air.

With rosy cheeks, and laughing eyes,
They hie to Nature's bowers,
While birds trill forth their sweetest lay,
To pluck the fairest flowers.

Now some have strayed to sit beneath
A grove of maples grey,
To twine their flowers into a wreath,
Or cull a sweet bouquet.


While one small group is seated round
A florid, mossy knoll,
And laughing lisp that they have found
The sweetest flowers of all.

With bouquets sweet, and garlands gay,
They homeward then repair,
In haste to join without delay
The pic-nic or the fair.

For times are not as they were wont
To be in years gone by,
When on the rural village green
They reared the May-pole high;
While gathered round a merry group
Of youths and maidens gay,
To crown some rosy rustic maid
The smiling Queen of May.


MATr. vi. 28.

BrHoLD the lilies of the field,
In thousand colors drest;
They toil not, neither do they spia,
Yet God the flowers hath blest.

Then toil not for the Jhings of earth,
But seek your God to please;
For Solomon, in all his pride,
Was not arrayed like these.


Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass
And flowers, that fade and die,
Will he not much more care for you,
And all your wants supply ?
Why will ye, 0 ye faithless ones,
Distrust your Father's care ?
Are ye not better than the flowers ?
Will he not hear your prayer ?
Your Father knoweth what ye need;
Fear not, but watch and pray;
And let your light shine more and more
Unto the perfect day.



MY father's house was indeed a pleas-
ant home; and father was the supreme
guide of his own household. He was
gentle, but he could be firm and resolute
when the case demanded. Mother was
the sunshine of our little garden of love;
her talents and energy gave her influ-
ence ; and united to a man like father,


she was all that is lovable in the charac-
ter of woman.
But the dear old home, where I grew
from infancy to boyhood, and from boy-
hood to youth, I shall never forget. It
was a large house on the slope of a hill,
just high enough to overlook several
miles of our level country, and smooth
enough with its soft grassy carpet for us
to roll down from the summit to the foot
of the hill. At the backof the house
was another hill, where we used to roll
under the shade of the old elm, and
where Miles and I would sit whole after-
noons and fly the kite, each taking turns
in holding the string. This was a hapgy
place for us, and especially in the spring
time, when the happy looking cows grazed
along the pathway which winds around
the elm to the stream where Kate and I
used to sail my little boat. All summer
-long this place was vocal with the songs


of birds, which built their nests in safety
among the tall trees of the grove in the
rear of the farm. We had also the
music of the running brook, and the
pleasant hum of my father's cotton mill,
which brought us in our daily bread.
Haying time was always a happy season
for us boys. Father's two horses, "Dick"
and Bony," would take off the farm as
large a load of hay as any in the village.
Years past on, and we were a happy
band of brothers and sisters. After
Kate, came the twins, Margaret and
Herbert, and last of all came the youngest
darling, blue eyed Dora. We had a
happy childhood. Our station in the
world was high enough to enable us to
have all the harmless pleasures and
studies that were usefAand actually neces-
sary to boys and girls of our station.
Father always thought that it was better
in early youth not to force the boys to


too hard study, and mother loved best to
see Kate and Margaret using the fingers
in fabricating garments, than in playing
the harp. We were free, happy, roving
children on father's farm, unchained by
the forms of fashionable life. We had
no costly dresses to spoil, and were per-
mitted to play in the green fields without
a servant's eye, and to bathe in the clear
shallow stream without fear of drowning.
As I have said before, these were happy
days; and when I think of them gone, I
often express my regret that we did not
improve them more for the cultivation of
the mind and the affections. In the next
story you will see that there were some
passing clouds in our early summer days.



IN a large family there are often
diversity of character and varieties of
mood and temper, which bring some
clouds of sorrow. In our little Eden of
innocence there were storms now and
then. Miles was a little wild and head-
strong from his babyhood, and Margaret,
though very beautiful, was often wilful
and vain. For five years the twins had
grown up together the same in beauty
and health. One day an accident befell
Herbert, and the dear child rose from his
bed of sickness a pale and crippled boy.
His twin sister grew up tall and bloom-
ing. The twins loved each other very
much, and it was a pleasant sight to see
how the deformed boy was cherished and
protected by his sister Margaret. She
would often leave us in the midst of our


plays to go and sit by Herbert, who could
not share with us in them.
We had our yearly festivals, our cow-
slip gatherings, our blackberry huntings,
our hay makings, and all the delights so
pleasant to country children. Our five
birthdays were each signalized by simple
presents and evening parties, in the
garden or the house, as the season per-
mitted. Herbert and Margaret's birth-
days came in the sunny time of May,
when there were double rejoicings to be
made. They were always set up in
their chairs in the bower, decorated with
flowers and crowned with wreaths. I
now think of Margaret smiling under her
brilliant garland, while poor Herbert
looked up to her with his pale sweet face.
I heard him once say to her when we had
all gone away to pluck flowers:
How beautiful you are to day, Mar-



garet, with your rosy cheeks and brown
"But that does not make me any
better or prettier than you, because I am
strong and you are not, or that my
cheeks are red and your's are pale."
Miles was just carrying little Dora over
the steeping stones at the brook, when
Herbert cried:
0, if I could only run and leap like
Miles; but I am very helpless."
To which Margaret replied: Never
mind, brother; I will love you and take
care of you all your life," and she said
these words with a sister's love, as she
put her arms around the neck of her
helpless brother. She loved him the
more, and aimed to please him by read-
ing books to him which were his delight.
This was a pleasant sight, and the
brothers always admired Margaret for
her attention to their helpless brother.



YOUNG children like to have a small
piece of land for a garden which they
can call their own. And it is very
.pleasant to dig the ground, sow the seed,
and watch the little green plants which
peep out of the earth, and to see the
beautiful buds and fresh blossoms.
Every boy and girl has a bit of garden,
and we are told in the good book to take
good care of it, and see that the weeds
of vice do not spread over it, and to be
sure and have it covered over with plants
of goodness. This garden is the HEART.
Such things as anger, sloth, lying and
cheating, are noxious weeds. But if you
are active and industrious, and keep culti-
vating this little garden, and keep out all
the bad weeds, God will help you to make a
good garden, full of pleasant plants, and


flowers of virtue. I have seen some gardens
which look very bad, covered with briars
and weeds, the grass growing in the
paths, and the knotty weeds choking the
few puny flowers that are drooping and
dying out. Every thing seems to say -
"How idle the owner of this garden is."
But I' have, seen other gardens where
there were scarcely any weeds. The
walks look tidy, the flowers in blossom,
the trees are laden with fruit, and every
thing says," How busy the owner is."
Happy are you, dear children, if you are
working earnestly in the garden of your
hearts. Your garden will be clean,
pleasant, and fruitful a credit and
comfort to you all your days.



I WILL tell you an anecdote about
Mrs. Hannah More, when she was eighty
years old. A widow and her little son
paid a visit to Mrs. More, at Barley
Wood. When they were about to leave,
Mrs. M. stooped to kiss the little boy,
not as a mere compliment, as old maidens
usually kiss children, but she took his
smiling face between her two hands, and
looked upon it a moment as a mother
would, then kissed it fondly more than
once. Now when you are a man, my
child, will you remember me ? The
little boy had just been eating some cake
which she gave him, and he, instead of
giving her any answer, glanced his eyes
on the remnants of the cake which lay
on the table. Well," said Mrs. M.,
" you will remember the cake at Barley


Wood, wont you ? "Yes," said the
boy, It was nice cake, and you are so
kind that I will remember both." That
is right," she replied, "I like to have
the young remember me for being cind
- then you will remember old Mrs.
Hannah More ? "
Always, ma'am, I'll try to remember
you always." "What a good child,"
said she, after his mother was gone,
"and of good stock; that child will be
true as steel. It was so much more nat-
ural that the child should remember the
cake than an old woman, that I love his
sincerity." She died on the 7th of
Sept., 1833, aged eighty-eight. She
was buried in Wrighton churchyard, be-
neath an old tree which is still flourishing.

University of Florida Home Page
© 2004 - 2010 University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries.
All rights reserved.

Acceptable Use, Copyright, and Disclaimer Statement
Last updated October 10, 2010 - - mvs