Front Cover
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Chapter I: Fanny at market
 Chapter II: Fanny when an...
 Chapter III: Mrs. Newton's...
 Chapter IV: Lessons from flowe...
 Chapter V: An unlooked-for...
 Chapter VI: A new home
 Chapter VII: Happy results
 Back Cover

Title: Fanny, the flower-girl, or, Honesty rewarded
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00002164/00001
 Material Information
Title: Fanny, the flower-girl, or, Honesty rewarded
Alternate Title: Honesty rewarded
Physical Description: 54, <2> p. : ill. ; 14 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Kidder, Daniel P ( Daniel Parish ), 1815-1891
Longking, Joseph ( Printer )
Lane & Scott ( Publisher )
Methodist Episcopal Church -- Sunday School Union
Publisher: Lane & Scott
Place of Publication: New York
Manufacturer: Joseph Longking.
Publication Date: 1851
Subject: Orphans -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Faith -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Honesty -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Chapbooks -- 1852   ( rbgenr )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1851   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1851
Genre: Chapbooks   ( rbgenr )
Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: revised by D.P. Kidder.
General Note: Publisher's advertisement: <2> p. following text and p. <4> of paper wrapper.
General Note: "Published...for the Sunday-School Union of the Methodist Episcopal Church."
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00002164
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002250650
oclc - 45586368
notis - ALK2397

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 2a
    Title Page
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Table of Contents
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Chapter I: Fanny at market
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
    Chapter II: Fanny when an infant
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
    Chapter III: Mrs. Newton's afflictions
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
    Chapter IV: Lessons from flowers
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
    Chapter V: An unlooked-for visitor
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
    Chapter VI: A new home
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
    Chapter VII: Happy results
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
    Back Cover
        Page 55
Full Text

tifrczm- n.





10 of


200 Malberry-street.

N!mim,: .. 1

'*- *



See page 9.







New -4Jork:


Chap. Page
I. FANNY AT MARKET. ....... 7





VI. A NEW HOME. . . . 41




COME, buy my flowers; flowers fresh
and fair. Come, buy my flowers. Please,
ma'am, buy a nice bunch of flowers; very
pretty ones, ma'am. Please, sir, to have
some flowers; nice fresh ones, miss; only
just gathered; please look."
Thus spoke, or sometimes sung, a little
girl of perhaps eight years old, holding in.
her hand a neat small basket, on the top
of which lay a clean white cloth, to shade
from the sun the flowers which she praised
so highly, and a little bunch of which she
presented to almost every passer-by, in the
hope of finding purchasers; while, after
one had passed rudely on, another had
[Iq6ked at her young face and smiled, an-

other said, What a nice child !" but not
one had taken the flowers, and left the pen-
ny or the halfpenny that was to pay for
them, the little girl, as if accustomed to all
this, only arranged again the pretty nose-
gays that had beery disarranged in the vain
hope of selling them, and commenced anew,
in her pretty singing tone, Come, buy my
flowers; flowers fresh and fair."
Your flowers are sadly withered, my'
little maid," said a kind country-looking
gentleman, who was buying some vege-
tables at a stall near her.
0, sir! I have fresh ones here, sir;
please look;" and the child lifted up the
cover of her basket, and drew from Ihe
very bottom a bunch of blossoms on which
the dew of morning still rested.
S"Please to see, sir; a pretty rose, sir;
and these pinks and mignonette, and a
bunch of jessamine, sir, and all for one
"Bless thee, pretty dear!" said the old
lame vegetable-seller," thou 'It make a good
nriarket-woman one of these days. Your
honor would do well to buy her flowers,

Ssir; she has got no mother or father, God
help her, and works for a sick grandmo-
"Poor child!" said the old gentleman.
Here, then, little one, give me three nice
nosegays, and there is sixpence for you."
With delight sparkling in every feature
of her face, and her color changed to
crimson with joy, the little flower-girl re-
ceived in one hand the unusual piece of
Money; and setting her basket on the
ground, began hastily and tremblingly to
pick out nearly half its contents as the
price of the sixpence; but the gentleman
stooped down, and taking up at random
three bunches of the flowers, which were
not the freshest, said,
Here, these will do; keep the rest for
a more difficult customer. Be a good
child; pray to God, and serve him, and
you will find he is a Father of the fatherless."
And so he went away; and the flower-
girl, without waiting to put her basket in
order, turned to the old vegetable-seller,
and cried, Sixpence! a whole sixpence,
and all at once. What will grandmother

say now ? See!" and opening her hand,
she displayed its shining .contents before
her neighbor's eyes.
"Eh!" exclaimed the old man, as he
approached his eyes nearer to it. Eh!
what is this? why thou hast twenty six-
pences there; this is a half-sovereign!"
Twenty sixpences! why the gentle-
man said, There is sixpence for thee," said
the child.
Because he didn't know his mistake,"
replied he. other; I saw him take the
piece out of his waistcoat pocket without
dear! what shall I do?" cried the
little girl.
Why, thou must keep it, to be sure,"
replied the old man; "give it to thy
grandmother; she will know what to do
with it, I warrant thee."
"But I must first try to find the good
gentleman, and tell him of his mistake,"
said the child. "I know what grandmo-
ther would say else; and he cannot be far
off, I think, because he was so fat; he will
go slow, I am sure, this hot morning.

Here, Mr. Williams, take care of my bas-
ket, please, till I come back."
And without a word more, the flower-
girl put down her little basket at the foot
of the vegetable-stall, and ran away as fast
as she could go.
When she turned out ofthe market-place,
she found, early as it was, that the street
before her was pretty full; but, as from the
passage the gentleman had taken to leave
the market-place, she knew he could only
have gone in one direction, she had still
hopes of finding him; and she ran on and
on, until she actually thought she saw the
very person before her; he had just taken
off his hat, and was wiping his forehead
with his handkerchief.
That is him," said the little flower-girl,
"I am certain;" but just as she spoke
some persons came between her and the
gentleman, and she could not see him.
Still she kept running on; now passing off
the foot-path into the street, and then see-
Sig the fat gentleman still before her; and
then again getting on the foot-path, and
ing sight of him, until at last- she came


up quite close to him, as he was walking,
slowly, and wiping the drops of heat from
his forehead.
The poor child was then quite out of
breath; and when got up to him she could
not call out to him to stop, nor say one
Word; so she caught hold of the skirt of
his coat, and gave it a strong pull.
The gentleman started, and clapped one
hand on his coat pocket, and raised up
his cane in the other, for he was quite sure
it was a pickpocket at his coat. But when
he turned, he saw the breathless little flow-
er-girl, and he looked rather sternly at her,
and said,
Well, what do you want? what are
you about, heh ?"
0, sir !" said the girl; and then she be-
gan to cough, for her breath was quite
spent. See, sir; you said you gave me
sixpence, and Mr. Williams says there
are twenty sixpences in this little bit of
"Dear me!" said the gentleman; "is it pos-
sible? could I have done such a thing?" and
he begarr to fumble in his waistcoat pocket.


SWell, really it is true enough," he add-
ed, as he drew out a sixpence. See what
it is to put gold and silver together."
"I wish he would give it to me,"
thought the little flower-girl; how happy
it would make poor granny: and perhaps
he has got a good many more of these
pretty gold pieces."
But the old gentleman put out his hand,
and took it, and turned it over and over,
and seemed to think a little: and then he
put his hand into his pocket again, and
took out his purse; and he put the half-
sovereign into the purse, and took out of
it another sixpence.
Well," he said, there is the sixpence
I owe you for the flowers; you have done
right to bring me back this piece of gold;
and there is another sixpence for your
race; it is not a reward, mind, for honesty
is only our duty, and you only did what
is right; but you are tired, and have left
your employment, and perhaps lost a cus-
tomer, so I give you the other sixpence
to make you amends."
Thank you, sir," said the flower-girl,

courtesying; and, taking the two sixpence
into her hand with a delighted smile, wa
going to run back again, when the ol
gentleman pulling out a pocket-book, said
" Stay a moment; you are an orphan, the'
tell me; what is your name ?"
"Fanny, sir."
"Fanny what?"
"Please I don't know, sir; grandmother
is Mrs. Newton, sir; but she says she is
not my grandmother either, sir."
Well, tell me where Mrs. Newton
lives," said the gentleman, after looking at
her a minute or so, as if trying to make
out what she meant.
So Fanny told him, and he wrote it
down in his pocket-book, and then read
over what he had written to her, and she
said it was right.
Now, then, run away back," said he,
" and sell all your flowers, if you can, be-
fore they wither, for they will not last long
this warm day: flowers are like youth'and
beauty-do you ever think of that ? even
the rose withereth afore it growth up."
And this fat gentleman looked 'very sad;

or he had lost all his children in their
S"0 yes, sir; I know a verse which says
that," replied Fanny. All flesh is grass,
and all the goodliness thereof is as the flow-
er of grass-but good morning, and thank
you, sir," and away Fanny ran.

AND now, before going on with my sto-
ry, I must go back to tell who and what
Fanny, the flower-girl, was.
Mrs. Newton, whom she called her
grandmother, was now a poor old woman,
confined to her bed by a long and trying
illness, that had nearly deprived her of the
use of her limbs. But she had not been
always thus afflicted. Some years before,
Newton lived in a neat cottage near
e road-side, two or three miles from one
the great seaport towns of England.
er husband had good employment, and
ey were both comfortable and happy.

Just eight years from this time, it hap
opened that one warm summer's day Mr
Ne'vton went io look out from her cottage
door down the road, and she saw a young
woman standing there leaning against
tree, and looking very faint and weak.
She was touched with pity, and asked
the poor traveler to walk.into her house
and rest. The young woman thankfully
consented, for she said she was very ill;
but she added, that her husband was com-
ing after her, having been obliged to turn
back for a parcel thatwas left behind at the
house where ihey haid halted -orne ti me be-
fore, and therefore she would sit near the
door and watch for him.
Before, however, the husband came, the
poor woman was taken dreadfully ill; and
when he did arrive, good -Mrs. NeWton
could not bear to put the, poor creatilur
out of the house in such a state' :she. be-
came worse and worse. In ihorl, ihat
poor young woman was Fainny' mother,
and when little Fanny was boin, that poor
sick mother died, and Fanny never sw\ a
mother's smile.


i.;Phe day after the young woman's death,
l Mrs. Newton came into the room
where her cold body was laid out on the
bed; and there was her husband, a young,
strong-looking man, sitting beside it; his
elbows were on his knees, and his face was
hid in his open hands.
Mrs. Newton had the baby in her arms,
'and she spoke to its father as she came in.:
he looked up to her; his own face was as
pale as death, and he looked at her with-
out saying a word. She saw he was in
too much grief either to.speak or weep.
..So she went over silently to him, and put
the little baby into his arms, and then said,
SMay the Lord look down with pity on
:As soon as the unhappy young man
heard these compassionate words, and saw
Itb face of his pretty, peaceful babe, he
t into tears; they rolled in large drops
In on the infant's head.
-hen in a short time he was able to
and he told Mrs. Newton his sad
'history; how he had no one in the
ole world to look with pity on him, or

his motherless child; and how God alone
was his hope in this day of calamity. Hi
father had been displeased with him because
head married that young woman, whom
he dearlyloved; and he had given him some:l
money that was his portion, and would do&
nothing else for him. The young man hadi
taken some land and a house, but as the
rent was too high, he could not make
enough from the land to pay it; so he had
been obliged to sell all his goods, and he
had only as much money left as would,
with great saving, carry him to America,
where he had a brother who advised him
to come out there.
"' And now," said he, looking over at
the pale face of his dear wife, "what shall
I do with the little creature she has left
me ? how shall I carry it over the wide
ocean without a mother to care for it, and
nurse it?"
You cannot do so," said Mrs. New-
ton, wiping her eyes; "leave it with me;
I have no children of my own, my hus-
band would like to have one; this babe
shall lie in my bosom, and be unto me as

daughter. I will nurse it for you until
taare settled in America, and send or
ome for it."
:The young man wept with gratitude;
e wanted to know how he was to repay
s. Newton, but she said for the present
ie did not want payment, that it would be
a pleasure to her to have the baby; and it
vould be time enough to talk about pay-
ment when the father was able to claim it,
and take it to a home.
So the next day they buried the poor
young woman,-and, soon after, the young
man went away and sailed off to Ameri-
ca, and from that day to this Mrs. Newton
had never heard anything of him.
| As she had said, that poor little mother-
lsss babe lay in her bosom, and was unto
her as a daughter; she loved it; she loved
lit when it was a little helpless thing, weak
iand sickly; she loved it when it grew a
etty lively baby, and would set its little
ol. n her knees, and crow and caper be-
e hir face; she loved it when it began
laNv around her as she sat at work, to
sp o., the word Ganny, for she taught it


to call her grandmother; she loved it when
it would follow her into her nice garden,j
and pick a flower, and carry it to her, asi
she sat in the little arbor; and she, hold-
ing the flower, would talk to it of Godi
who made the flower, and made the beel
that drew honey from the flower, and,
made the sun that caused the flower to
grow, and the light that gave the flower
its colors, and the rain that watered it,
and the earth that nourished it. And she
loved that child when it came back from
the infant school, and climbed up on her
lap, or stood with its hands behind its back,
to repeat some pretty verses about flowers,
or about the God who made them. That
child was Fanny, the flower-girl; and ah!
how little did good Mrs. Newton think she
would at length be selling flowers in the
streets to help to support her!


BUT it came to pass, that when Fanny
was nearly six years old, Mrs. Newton's
husband became very ill; it was a very
bad and very expensive illness: for poor
Mrs. Newton was so uneasy, she would
sometimes have two doctors to see him.
But all would not do: he died; and Mrs.
Newton was left very poorly off.
In a short time she found she could not
remain in her pretty cottage; and she was
obliged to leave it; and the church where
she had gone every Sunday for so many
years; and the church-yard where her hus-
band was buried, and little Fanny's mo-
ther; and the infant school where Fanny
learned so much; and the dear little gar-
den, and the flowers that were Fanny's
teachers and favorites. O how sorry was
poor Mrs. Newton! But even a little child
.~f give comfort; and so little Fanny, per-
laps without thinking to do so, did; for

when Mrs. Newton for the last time
sat out in her garden, and saw the setting
sun go down, and told Fanny she was
going to leave that pretty garden, where
she had from infancy been taught to know
God's works, the child looked very sad
and thoughtful indeed, for some time;
but afterward, coming up to her, said,
But, grandmother, we shall not leave
God, shall we? for you say God is every-
where, and he will be in London too."
And 0 how that thought consoled
poor Mrs. Newton! She did not leave
God,-God did not leave her.
So she left the abode of her younger
years-the scene of her widowhood; and
'she went away to hire a poor lodging in
the outlets of London: but her God was
with her; and the child she had nursed in
her prosperity was her comfort in adversity.
Matters, however, went no better when
she lived with little Fanny in a poor lodg-
ing. She had only one friend in London,
and she lived at a distance from her. Mrs.
Newton became ill; there was no one to
nurse her but Fanny; she could no longer

pay for her schooling, and sometimes she
was not able to teach her herself.
'All this seemed very hard and very try-
ing, and one would have been tempted
to think that God was no. longer with poor
l$Mrs. Newton; that when she had left her
cottage she had left the God who had been
.so good to her.
Butthis would havebeen a mistake: God"
was with Mrs. Newton; he saw fit to try
and afflict her; but he gave her strength and
patience to bear her trials and afflictions.
One afternoon her friend came to pay
her a visit: she was going out a little way
into the country to see a relation who had
a very fine nursery-garden, and she beg-
ged Mrs. Newton to let little Fanny go with:'
her own daughter. Mrs. Newton was very
glad to do so, for she thought it would be
a nice amusement for Fanny.
The nurseryman was very kind to her;
and when she was going away gave her a
fine bunch of flowers. Fanny was in
great delight; for she loved flowers, and
knew her dear grandmother loved them
too,. But as she was coming back, and

just as she was entering the streets, she
met a lady and a litll bo. of about three
years old, who directly held out his Iiaids,
and began .to beg for. the flowers. His
mamma stopped, and, as -Fanny was'very
po:orlv dressed, she thought it probable that-
slie would d sell her nosegay, and so she
'"Will you give that bunch of flowers
to my little boy ? Iwill pay you for it."
"Please, ma'am, they are fdr grand-
mother," said Fanny, blushing, and think-
ing she ought to give the flowers directly,
and without ihoney, to any one who wish-
ed-foi them...
S,"i But perlps your gralndiotll-r would
rather have. thik sixpence ?" .said the lady.
And Mrs.: Newton's friend, who had just
come up, said,
Well, my dear, take the lady's six-
pence, and let her have the flowers, if she
wishes for them."
So Fanny held the flowers to the lady,
who took them, and- put the sixpence in
her hand. Fanny wished much to ask for
one rose, but she thought it would not be

B:* do so, when the lady had bought
Ifim ll: and she looked at them so very
gly that the. lady asked if she were
ry ?6 part with them.
v.iaO-no, ma'arh!" cried her friend, "she
ipot, at all sorry : come now, don't be a
fodl, child," she whispered, and led Fan-
on, on.
That is a good bargain for you," she
led, as she went on: "that little spoiled
ild has his own way, I think. It would
'be well for you, and your grandmother
too, if you could sell sixpennyworth of
flowers every day."
l Do you think I could, ma'am?" said
Iany, opening her hand, and looking at
r sixpence; this will buy something at
do-poor grandma good: do you think Mr.
Sbimpson would give me a nosegay every
'"day ?"
If you were to pay him for it, he would,'"
said her friend. Suppose you were to go
every morning about five o'clock, as many
others do, and buy some flowers, and then
ellU them at the market; you might earn
Something, and that would be better than

being idle, when poor Mrs. Newton is n
able to do for herself and you."
So when Fanny got back, she gave he
dear grandmother the sixpencer'
The Lord be praised !" said Mrs.. Ne.'
ton; for I scarcely knew how I was ti
get a loaf of bread for thee or myself to;
And then Fanny told her the plan she
had formed about the flowers.
Mrs. Newton was very sorry to thinly
her dear child should be obliged to stand
in a market place, or in the public streets,
to offer anything for.'sale'; but she said,
" Surely it is Providence has opened thi
means of gaining a little bread, while I arfi
laid here unable to do anything; and shall
I not trust that Providence with the care
of my darling child ?"
So from this time forth little Fanny set
off every morning before five o'clock, to
the nursery-garden; and the nurseryman
was very kind to her, and always gave her
the nicest flowers. Instead of sitting down
with the great girls, who went there also for
flowers or vegetables, and tying them up

in bunches, Fanny put them altogether in
her little basket, and went away to her
grandmother's room, and spread them out
on the little table that poor Mrs. Newton
might see them, while the sweet dew was
yet sparkling on their bright leaves.
Then she would tell how beautiful the
garden looked at that sweet early hour;
and Mrs. Newton would listen with plea-
sure, for she loved a garden. She used
to say, that God placed man in a garden
when he was happy and holy; and when
he was sinful and sorrowful, it was in a
garden that the blessed Saviour wept and
prayed for the sin of the world; and when
his death had made atonement for that
sin, it was in a garden his blessed body
was laid.

MRS. NEWTON taught Fanny many
things from flowers; she was not a bad teach-
er, in her ow simple way: but Jesus Christ,
who was the best teacher the world ever


had, instructed his disciples from vines
and lilies, corn and fruits, and birds, and
all natural things around them.
And while Fanny tied up her bunches
of flowers, she would repeat some verses
from the Holy Scriptures, such as this:" 0
Lord, how manifold are thy works! in
wisdom hast thou made them all: the
earth is full of thy riches." And after-
ward she would repeat such pretty lines
as these:-
"Not worlds on worlds in varied form
Need we to tell a God is here;
The daisy, saved from winter's storm,
Speaks of his hand in lines as clear.

For who but He who form'd the skies,
And pour'd the-dayspring's living flood,
Wondrous alike in all he tries,
Could rear the daisy's simple bud ?

"Mold its green cup, its wiry stem,
Its fringed border nicely spin;
And cut the gold-embossed gem,
That, shrined in silver, shines within;

And fling it, unrestrained and free,
O'er hill, and dale, and desert sod,
That man, where'er he walks, may see
In every step the trace of God ?"

And I too have had my daisy given
to me," poor Mrs. Newton would say,
with tearful eyes, as she gazed on her
little flower-girl, I too have my daisy,
and though it may be little cared for in the
world, or trodden under foot of men, yet
will it ever bear, I trust, the trace of God."
But it happened, the very morning that
"the gentleman had given Fanny the half
sovereign in mistake, Mrs. Newton's mo-
ney was quite spent; and she was much
troubled, thinking ,the child must go the
next morning to the garden without money
to pay for her flowers, for she did not think
it likely she would sell enough to buy
what they required, and pay for them also;
so she told Fanny she must ask Mr. Simp-
son to let her owe him for a day or two
until she got a little money she expected.
Fanny went therefore and said this to
the kind man at the garden; and heput his
hand on her head, and said, My pretty
little girl, you may owe me as long as you
please, for you are a good child, and God
will prosper you."
So Fanny went back in great delight,

and told this to Mrs. Newton; and to
cheer her still more, she chose for her
morning verse the advice that our Lord
gave to all those who were careful and
troubled about things of this life: Con-
sider the lilies of the field, how they grow;
they toil not, neither do they spin; and yet
I say unto you, that Solomon in all his
glory was not arrayed like one of these.
Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of
the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow
is cast into the oven, shall he not much
more clothe you, O ye of little faith ?"
And then she repeated some verses
which both she and Mrs. Newton liked
very much:-
"Lo! the lilies of the field,
How their leaves instruction yield!
Hark to nature's lesson, given
By the blessed birds of heaven.
Say, with richer crimson glows
The kingly mantle than the rose ?
Say, are kings more richly dress'd
Than the lily's glowing vest ?"

Grandmother, I forget the next verse,"
said Fanny, interrupting herself; I know

it is something about lilies not spinning;
but then comes this verse,-
'Barns, nor hoarded store have we'-
"Itis not the lilies, grandmother, but the
'blessed birds,' that are speaking now,-
'Barns, nor hoarded store, have we,
Yet we carol joyously;
Mortals, flee from doubt and sorrow,
God provideth for the morrow.'"

Poor Mrs. Newton clasped her thin
hands, and looked up, and prayed like the
disciples, Lord, increase our faith!"
"Eh!" said she afterward, "is it not
strange that we can trust our Lord and
Saviour with the care of our souls for eter-
nity, and we cannot trust him with that
of our bodies for a day?"
. Well! this was poor Mrs. Newton's
state on that day, when the gentleman gave
Fanny the half sovereign, instead of six-
pence, for her flowers.
When the little flower-girl came back
Sm her race with her two sixpences, she
d the old vegetable-seller had got her
ee or four pennies more, by merely

showing her basket, and telling why it was
left at his stall; and so every one left a
penny for the honest child, and hoped the
gentleman would reward her well. The
old man at the stall said it was very shab-
by of him only to give her sixpence; but
when she went home with three sixpences,
and told Mrs. Newton this story she kiss-
ed her little girl very fondly, but said the
gentleman was good to give her sixpence,
for he was not obliged to give her any-
thing; she had only done her duty.
"But, grandmother," said Fanny,
" when I saw that. pretty half sovereign
dropping down into his purse, I could not
help wishing he would give it to me."
"And what commandment did you
break then, my child ?"
Not the eighth-if I had kept the half-
sovereign I should have broken its" said
Fanny; "for that says, Thou shall not steal.
What commandment did I break, grand-
mother; for I did not steal?"
When we desire to have what is not
ours, Fanny, what do we do ? we covet,
do we not ?


S" 0! yes-thou shalt not covet thy
neighbor's goods," cried Fanny, "that is
the tenth commandment; and that half
sovereign was my neighbor's goods, and
that fat gentleman was my neighbor. But,
grandmother, it is very easy to break the
,eAth commandment."
Very easy indeed, my dear," said Mrs.
Newton, with first a faint smile, and then
a deep sigh; therefore," she added, "we
ought always to pray like David, Turn
away mine eyes from beholding vanity.' "

THERE is a very common saying, that
when things are at the worst theymend. It
is hard to say when matters are at the worst.
Poor Mrs. Newton knew they might yet be
worse with her; but certainly they were
very bad; and a few days after this, as Fan-
ny was tying up her flowers a~ usual, she
lay on her bed thinking what she was to do,
and praying that God would direct her to


some way of providing for the poor child.
While he was thinking and praying, tears
stole down her face; Fanny saw them,
S and stolied her work, and looked sorrow-
fully at her.
Now you are crying aga&e, -andmo-
ther," she said, "and that'swhat makes me
break the tenth commandment; for I can't
help wishing the gentleman had given me
that half sovereign. But I will say the verses
again to-day about the lilies and birds; for
you know I said that morning,-
SMortals, flee from doubt and sorrow,
God provideth for the morrow.'
And when I came back with my three six-
pences, you said God had provided for
the morrow, for you had only two or three
pennies in the house when I went out."
And how many pennies, pray, have
you in the house to-day?" said a rather
gruff voice at the door.
Mrs. Newton and Fanny started; but
there, standing at the door, Fanny saw the
fat gentleman who had given her the half
So you have been wishing for my

gold, you little rogue," he said, looking as
if he meant to frighten her. Never mind,"
he added, smiling, you ate a good child,
and did what was right; and I always
meant to bring it back to you, but I have
been kept rather busy these few days past.
There it is for you, and try not to break
the tenth commandment again." Then,
Turning to Mrs. Newton, he said, We
should not expect rewards, ma'am, for do-
ing our duty; but if children do not
meet with approbation when they do right,
they may be discouraged, and perhaps
think there is no use in being good: for
they are silly little creatures, you know,
and do not always recollect that God will
reward the just one day if men do not."
O, sir !" said poor Mrs. Newton; but
the tears streamed down, and she could
not say a word more. And there Fanny
sat gazing at the half sovereign, as if she
were half stupefied.
Well, take up that bit of gold, and do
what you like with it," said the fat gentle-
man; and then run off to sell your flow-
ers, for we must not be idle because we

have got enough for to-day. But do what
you like with that money."
Fanny rose up from her seat, and look-
ing very much as if she were moving in
her sleep, with her wondering eyes fixed
on the shining piece that lay in her hand,
she walked slowly over to Mrs. Newton,
and, putting it into hers, said,-
May I go to the grocer's now, grand-
mother, and get you the tea for your break-
fast ?"
Yes, my love," said Mrs. Newton,
kissing her; "and take care of this, and
bring back the change carefully." Then,
turning to the gentleman, she said, I am
not young, sir, and I am very, very poorly;
I find it hard to go without my tea, but it
is a luxury I have been obliged latterly to
But could you not get tea on credit
from the grocer?" said the gentleman.
0 yes, I believe so; but there would
be no use in getting credit," said Mrs.
Newton; for I am not certain of being
better able to pay next week than *I am
this week; and when I have not the mo-

ney to pay for what I wish to get, it is bet-
ter to do without it, than to add to one's
anxieties by running in debt. Do you not
think so, sir ?"
"Ma'am," said the old gentleman, sit-
ting down, and resting his large silver-
topped stick between his knees, "it is of
very little consequence what I think; but
if you wish to know this, I will tell you
that I think very well both of you and
your little girl, who, as I have heard, for I
have made inquiries about you both, is a
dependent on your bounty. You have
trained her up well, though I wouldn't
praise the child to her face; and so take as
much tea as you like till you hear from me
again, and your grocer need be in no trou-
ble about his bill."
So after the fat gentleman had made this
rather bluff, but honest-hearted speech, and
poor Mrs. Newton had wept, and thanked
him in language that sounded more polite,
the good old gentleman told her his whole
He began the world very poor, and with-
out relations able to assist him; he was at


last taken into the employment of a young
merchant in the city; he had a turn for
business, and, having been able to render
some important services to this young man,
he was finally, to his own surprise, and
that of every one else, taken into partnership.
During all this time," said he, I was
attached from my boyhood to the daugh-
ter of the poor schoolmaster who first taught
me to read. I would not marry her while
I was poor, for I thought that would be to
make her wretched instead of happy: but
when I was taken into partnership I
thought my way was clear; I went off to
Bethnal Green, and told Mary, and our
wedding-day was settled at once. Well,
we were glad enough, to be sure; but a
very few days after, my partner called me
into the private room, saying that he want-
ed to consult me. He seemed in high
spirits, and he told me he had just heard
of a famous speculation, by which we
could both make our fortunes at once. He
explained what it was, and I saw, with
shame and regret, that no really honest
man could join in it: I told him so. I told


Shim plainly I would have nothing to do
with it. You may think what followed;
the deeds of partnership were not yet
signed, and, in short, in two or three days
more I found myself poor Jack Walton
again-indeed, poorer than I was before
I was made one of the firm of Charters
and Walton, for I had lost my employ-
Often and often I used to think that
David said, he had never seen the righteous
forsaken ; yet I was suffering while the un-
righteous were prospering. It was a sin-
ful and a self-righteous thought, and I was
obliged to renounce it when, after sme
time of trial, a gentleman sent for me--a
man of wealth-and told me his son was
going into business on his own account;
that he had heard of my character, and of
the cause of my leaving Mr. Charters; that
he thought I would be just such a steady
person as he wished his son to be with.
In short, I began with him on a handsome
salary; was soon made his partner; mar-
ried Mary, and had my snug house in the
country. Mr. Charters succeeded in that


~ ~ ~--I~- --~~--~ --- --~~~~ ~----~




speculation, entered into several others,
some of which were of a more fraudulent
nature, failed, and was ruined. He ran
off to America, and no one knows what be-
came of him. I have left business some
years. I purchased a nice property in the
country, built a church upon it, and have
ever thanked God, who never forsakes
those who wish to act righteously.
"It pleased God to take all my sweet
children from me-every state has its trials
-the youngest was just like your little
Mrs. Newton was much pleased with
+his story; she then told her own, and lit-
le Fanny's. The fat gentleman's eyes
were full of tears when she ended: when
he was going away he put another half
sovereign into her hand, and saying, The
first was for the child," walked out of the


A SHORT time afterward, a clergyman
me to see Mrs. Newton-she was sur-
prised; he sat and talked with her some
time, and seemed greatly pleased with her
sentiments, and all she told him of herself
and Fanny. He then told her that he was
the clergyman whom Mr. Walton, on the
recommendation of the bishop of the dio-
cese, had appointed to the church he had
built; that Mr. Walton had sent hir to
see her, and had told him, if he was satis-
fied with all he saw and heard, to invite
-Mrs. Newton and the little flower-girl to
leave London, and go and live in one of
the nice widows' houses, which good Mr.
Walton had built, near the pretty village
where he lived.
Then there was great joy in poor Mrs.
Newton's humble abode; Mrs. Newton
was glad for Fanny's' sake, and Fanny
was glad for Mrs. Newton's sake; so both
were glad, and both said,-

Mortals, flee from doubt and sorrow,
God provideth for the morrow."
But the only difference was, that Mrs.
Newton said it with watery eyes and
clasped hands, lying on her bed and look-
ing up to heaven; and Fanny-merry lit-
tle thing!-said it frisking and jumping
about the room, clapping her hands to-
gether, and laughing her joy aloud.
Well, there was an inside place taken
in the B- coach, for Mrs. Newton and
Fanny; and not only that, but kind Mrs.
Walton sent up her own maid to London,
to see that everything was carefully done,
as the poor woman was ill, and help to
pack up all her little goods; and, with her,
she sent an entire new suit of clothes for
the little flower-girl.
They set off, and when they got near to
the village the coachman stopped, and
called out to know if it were the first or
the last of the red cottages he was to
stop at; and Mrs. Walton's maid said,
" The last-the cottage in the garden."
So they stopped at such a pretty cottage,
with a little garden before and behind it.

Mr. Walton had known what it was to be.
poor, and so, when he grew rich, he had
built these neat houses for those who had
been rich and become poor. They were
intended chiefly for the widows of men of
business, whose characters had been good,
but who had died without being able to
provide for their families. He had made
an exception .in Mrs. Newton's case, and
gave her one of the best houses, because
it had a pretty garden, which he thought
others might not care for so much.
They went inside, and there was such a
neat kitchen, with tiles as red as tiles could
be; a little dresser, with all sorts of useful
things; a nice clock sticking opposite the
fire-place, and a grate as bright as black-
lead could make it. And then there was
such a pretty little room atone side, with a
rose-tree against the window; and a little
shelf for books against the wall; and a
round table, and some chairs, and an easy
couch, And there were two nice bed-
rooms overhead; and, better than all these,
was a pretty garden. 0 how happy was
the little flower-girl; and how thankful was

poor Mrs. Newton! The first thing she
did was to go down on her knees and
thank God.
Then Fanny was to go to the school,
for Mrs. Walton had her own school, as
well as the national school; but Fanny did
not know'enough to go to it, so she was
sent to the national school first, and after-
ward she went to the other, where about
a dozen girls were instructed in all things
that would be useful to them through life
-whether they were to earn their bread
at service, or to live in their own homes as
daughters, or wives, or mothers.
But every morning, before she went out,
she did everything for her dear, good
grandmother. She made her breakfast;
she arranged her room; and she gathered
some fresh flowers in the garden, and put
them on the table in the little parlor.
0 how happy was Fanny when she
looked back, and saw how nice everything
looked, and then went out singing to her
Barns, nor hoarded store, have we,
Yet we carol joyously;


Mortals, flee from doubt and sorrow,
God provideth for the morrow."

But God will not provide for the mor-
row, where people will do nothing to pro-
vide for themselves; and so Fanny, the
flower-girl, knew, for surely God had
blessed the labor of her childish hands.
Thus passed time away; and Fanny,
under the instruction that she had at church,
at school, and at home, "grew in grace, and
in the knowledge and love of God, and of
Jesus Christ our Lord."
Good Mrs. Newton was much better in
health, and used to walk about sometimes
without any support but Fanny's arm, and
so time went on till Fanny came to be
about fifteen; and then Mrs. Newton, who
was not always free from doubt and sor-
row," began to think what would become
of her if she were to die.
So one day, when kind Mr. Walton,
whom Fanny used once to call the fat
gentleman, came in to see her, Mrs. New-
ton told him that she was beginning to
feel anxious that Fanny should be put in


a way of earning her own bread, in case
she should be taken from her.
Mr. Walton listened to her, and then he
You are very right and prudent, Mrs.
Newton, but never mind that; I have not
forgotten my little flower-girl, and her race
after me that hot morning: if you were
dead, I would take care of her; and if we
both were dead, Mrs. Walton would take
care of her; and if Mrs. Walton were dead,
God would take care of her. I see you
cannot yet learn the little lines she is so
fond of,-
'Mortals, flee from doubt and sorrow,
God provideth for the morrow.'"

NOT very long after this conversation
came a very warm day, and in all the heat
of the sun came Mr. Walton, scarcely able
to breathe, into Mrs. Newton's cottage; he
was carrying his hat in one hand and a

newspaper in the other, and his face was
very red and hot.
Well, Mrs. Newton," said he, "what
is all this about? I can't make it out;
here is your name in the paper!"
"My name, sir!" said Mrs. Newton,
staring at the paper.
Ay, indeed is it," said Mr. Walton,
putting on his spectacles, and opening the
paper at the advertisement side,-" see
here !"
And he began to read,-
If Mrs. Newton, who lived about fif-
teen years ago near the turnpike on the
P- road, will apply to Messrs. Long
and Black, she will hear of something to
her advantage. Or should she be dead,
any person who can give information re-
specting her and her family will be re-
Mrs. Newton sat without the power of
speech-so much was she surprised at
last she said, "It is Fanny's father! I
know, I am sure it can be no one else!"
.Mr. Walton looked surprised, for he
-had never thought of this; he was almost

sorry to think his little flower-girl should
have another protector. At length he said
it must be as Mrs. Newton thought, and
he would go up to London himself next
day, and see Mr. Long and Mr. Black.
So he went; and two days afterward, when
Fanny had returned from Mrs. Walton's
school, and was sitting with Mrs. Newton
in the little shady arbor they had made in the
garden, and talking over early days, when
they used to sit in another arbor, and Fan-
ny used to learn her first lessons from flow-
ers, then came Mr. Walton walking up the"
path toward them, and with him was a
fine-looking man of about forty-five years
of age.
Mrs. Newton -trembled, for when she
looked in his face she remembered the fea-
tures; and she said to herself, Now if he
takes my Fanny from me ?-and if he
should be a bad man?" But when this
man came nearer, he stepped hastily be-
yond Mr. Walton, and, catching Mrs. New-
ton's hands, he was just going to drop on-
his knees before her, when he saw Fanny
staring at him; and a father's feelings .'

overcame every other, and with a cry of joy
he extended hisarms, and exclaiming," My
child! my child!" caught her to his breast.
Then there followed so much talk, while
no one knew scarcely what was saying;
and it was Mr. Walton, chiefly, that told
how Fanny's father had had so much to
struggle against, and so much hardship to
go through, but how he had succeeded at
last, and got on very well; how he had
tried then to find out Mrs. Newton and his
dear little Fanny, but could not, because
Mrs. Newton had changed her abode; how,
at last, he had met with a good opportu-
nity to sell his land, and had now come
over, with the money he had earned, to find
his child and repay her kind benefactor.
O what a happy evening was that in
the widow's cottage! The widow's heart
:sung for joy. The widow, and she that had
always thought herself an orphan, were
ready to sing together,-
S "Mortals, flee from doubt and sorrow,
God provideth for the morrow."
Mrs. Newton found that Mr. Marsden-
Swas the name of Fanny's father-was

all that she could desire Fanniy'a father to
be; a Christian in deid an d ii truth; one
thankful to God and to her, 1l thlie preser-
vation and care of his child; and who
would not 'iililgly separate Fanny from
her, or let her leave Fanny.
As he found Mrs. Newton did not wish
to leave kind Mr. Walton's neighborhood,
and that his daughter was attached to it
also, Mr. Marsden took some land and a
nice farm-house not far from the manor
house where Mr. Walton lived. He had
heard all about the half sovereign, and
loved his little flower-girl before he saw her.
So Mrs. Newton had to leave her
widow's house; and she shed tears of joy,
and regret, and thankfulness, as she did
so: she had been happy there, and had had
God's blessing upon her and her dear girl.
But Fanny was glad to receive her dear,
dear grandmother, into her own father's
house; her own house too: and she threw
her arms round the old lady's neck, when
they got there, and kissed her over and
over again, and said, Ah! graiidiinoilier,
you recollect when I was a little girl

tying up my flowers while you lay sick in
bed, I used to say so often,-
'Mortals, flee from doubt and sorrow,
God provideth for the morrow.'"
They had a large garden at the farm-
house, and Fanny and Mrs. Newton im-
proved it; and Mrs. Newton would walk
out, leaning on Fanny's arm, and look at
the lilies and roses, and jessamine and
mignonette, and talk of past times, and of
their first garden and their first flowers,
and their first knowledge of the God who
made them; who watches the opening bud,
and the infant head; who sends his rain
upon the plant, and the dew of his bless-
ing upon the child who is taught to know
and love him. And Fanny's father, when
he joined them, talked over his trials and
dangers from the day that his poor wife
lay dead, and his helpless baby lay in his
arms, and then he blessed the God who
had led him all his life long, and crowned
him with loving kindness.
Three years passed, and Fanny the lit-
tle flower-girl was a fine young woman.
A farmer's son in the neighborhood wish-.

ed her to become his wife; but her father
was very sorry to think of her leaving him
so soon for another home.
He spoke to Fanny about it, and said,
" My dear girl, I have no right to expect
you should wish to stay with me, for I
never was able to watch over your child-
hood, or to act a father's part by you."
And Fanny answered, with a blush and
smile, And I, father, was never able to
act a daughter's part by you until now,
and therefore I think you have every right
to expect I should do so for some time
longer. I have no objection to become
Charles Brierley's wife, and I have told him
so; but we are both young, and at all events
I will not leave you."
Now," said Mrs. Newton, who was sit-
ting by, "instead of that young man taking
more land, which is very dear about here,
would it not be a good plan if he were to
come and live with you, Mr. Marsden, and
help you with the farm ?"
And Mr. Marsden said, "That is the
very thing; I will go and speak to him
about it: and Fanny and her husband can

**- *-"r
Have the house and farm, and alU,.as.4'ft
as they please now, and entirely~'it irtj
So it was all settled; and Fanny was
married at the village church, and Mr. and
Mrs. Walton were at the wedding. Good
Mrs. Newton lived on at the farm-house,
and when Fanny's first child was born, it
was put into her arms. Then she thought
of the time when Fanny herself was laid
in the same arms; and she blessed God
in her heart, who had enabled her to be of
use to one human creature, and to one im-
mortal soul and mind, while she passed
through this life to the life everlasting.
Joy and sorrow are always mingled on
this earth; so it came to pass that'before
Fanny's first child could walk alone, good,
kind Mrs. Newton, died, and was buried.
As a shock of corn cometh in its season,
so she sunk to rest, and was gathered into
the garner of her Lord. But,-
"The memory of the just
Is bless'd, though they sleep in dust."
And Fanny's children, and children's chil-
dren, will learn to love that memory.

Many a day, sitting at work in her ga
den with her little ones around her, Faf-
ny let them gather some flowers, and talk,
to her about them; and then they would&
beg, as a reward for good conduct, that
she would tell them about her dear grand:
mother and her own childish days; and
much as children love to hear stories,
never did any more delight in a story,4
than did these children in the story of
Fanny, the flower-girl.


S. '


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