Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Only love
 Jack Price
 The merchant's clerk
 Katie's sacrifice
 The little conscience
 Nabby Rose
 How Carlos thanked his parents
 The true queen of the May
 Little Harry Cowles
 Back Cover

Group Title: Snow-drop library
Title: Only love, and other stories
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00055899/00001
 Material Information
Title: Only love, and other stories
Series Title: Snow-drop library
Physical Description: 116, 2 p. : ill. ; 16 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Van Ingen, William H., b. ca. 1831 ( Engraver )
White, George G ( George Gorgas ), d. 1898 ( Engraver )
Perkinpine & Higgins ( Publisher )
Westcott & Thomson ( Printer )
Publisher: Perkinpine & Higgins
Place of Publication: Philadelphia
Manufacturer: Westcott & Thompson, Stereotypers
Publication Date: [1870]
Subject: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children's stories -- 1870   ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1870   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1870
Genre: Children's stories   ( lcsh )
Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Pennsylvania -- Philadelphia
General Note: Publisher's advertisements follow text.
General Note: Added series t.p., engraved.
General Note: Some illustrations engraved by William Van Ingen after White.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00055899
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 - 002235138
notis - ALH5580
oclc - 14285669

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Title Page
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Title 3
        Title 4
    Only love
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
    Jack Price
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
    The merchant's clerk
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
    Katie's sacrifice
        Page 48
        Page 49-50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
    The little conscience
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
    Nabby Rose
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
    How Carlos thanked his parents
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
    The true queen of the May
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
    Little Harry Cowles
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
Full Text

The Baldwin Librar)
R rmB umBl
- r F ,,

,/ 1 .IN. -

h u A l




Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by


In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District
of Pennsylvania.

Stereotypers, Philada.


ONLY LOVE......... ......... ...................... ...... 7

JACK PaCE................................................. 13

THE MERCHANT'S CLERK............................... 25

KATIE'S SACRIFICE................................ ........ 48

THE LITTLE CONSCIENCE................................. 63

N ABBY ROSE.................................................. 71


THE TRUE QUEEN OF THE MAY................... 96

LITTLE HARRY COWLES.............. ................ 110







ISABELLA was mending stockings
and rocking the cradle with her
foot. Only twelve years old, yet she
sat there like a woman and worked
steadily, making her fingers fly as by
magic. Every now and then she
looked out of the window, where her
school-mates were skating and sliding
down the long hill on the pond which
stretched away beyond the house.
But her face was bright and happy,
and she made no effort to get away
from her work and join her play-
mates in their sport.
"Are you not tired, Isa?" I asked
her. "Do you not want to go out and
play with your companions?"

"No," she replied, "I want to finish
my work."
"But you have sat there steadily
all the afternoon, and worked very
hard too."
"Oh, I don't mind that," said Isa,
her face brightening with a sweet
smile. "Mother says we never get
tired when we work for love; and I
am working for love this afternoon."
"What do you mean, Isa?" I
"Why, mother had the sick head-
ache and looked just as though she
was going to faint. I was going out
to skate, but seeing how ill she looked,
I said, 'Mother, dear, why don't you
lie down?' She said she had to do the
mending for papa and John and
David, or they would have no clean
clothes for to-morrow, and then baby
must be taken care of too. I wanted
to go out, of course; but then I love


mother and papa and brothers and
baby more than skating, and I said,
'Mother, if you will lie down I'll do
all the mending, and take care of baby
too.' And we have had a good time,
haven't we, baby?"
Baby smiled as if trying to say
yes, and then his face blossomed in
sweet glee.
"By and by papa and the boys will
come home, and I mean to have sup-
per all ready for them without mother's
knowing anything about it," said Isa.
"But you cannot do so much as
that, surely; you are tasking yourself
too much for a girl of your age," I re-
"Anybody can do anything they
want to if they only love," said Isa;
"mother says so, and she knows. I
can do anything for her and papa and
brothers because I love them all, and
they are always doing something for

me, and a great deal more than I de-
serve. I have had a great deal better
time here than I should skating."
I looked at Isa again in surprise
and admiration. Her face glowed
with a beauty beyond that which
flushed the clouds which gathered
like curtain-folds about the setting
sun. She looked more beautiful than
ever before; and as the light gleamed
in at the window, and played about
her for a moment, she seemed to be
transfigured. Yes; she had learned
the great lesson, the mystery of life.
Only love, and you can do anything.
I lingered about for an hour, and
then went in again. The table was
set, plainly but with taste, and supper
was all ready. There was papa's arm-
chair, and his slippers on the hearth.
Something nice had been got for John
and David, and was covered on their
plates. Baby was sitting up in his


cradle crowing lustily, as though he
knew something nice was going on,
and thought Isa was flying about so
fast and noiselessly just to amuse
him. Papa and the boys were late,
and Isa was a little anxious. Soon
their familiar steps were heard at the
door. In a minute more they were
in the room. Isa's finger was raised
to hush their noise, and then pointing
to the bed-room, whispered, "Mother
is sick." Papa looked at the nice,
smoking supper, at the work all done
and piled up, at the neat room, in
which everything was in order, and
then he looked at Isa-looked for a
moment, and then threw his arms
around her neck, and almost smothered
her with kisses. Isa was more than
paid; but while this little scene was
being acted, John and David had
turned Isa's plate, hiding under it a
pretty scarf and a pair of gloves they


had bought for her to wear to a Sun-
day-school exhibition the next even-
ing. Mother had recovered from her
headache, and came in just in time to
witness the happy scene, and see Isa's
surprise as she lifted her plate and
found under it just what she wanted
"I do believe I am the luckiest girl
in the world," said Isa. "Everybody
does everything for me."
"Yes," said her mother; "but you
are constantly doing things for all of
"How can I help doing when I love
you all so much?" said Isa, while a
tear of happiness glistened in her eye.
That was a happy home. I turned
away from it with great reluctance,
and have remembered the scene ever
since with delight. It is a long time
since I saw Isa. She is a woman now,
with a home of her own, and children


and everything that one needs to make
a life happy. But I shall never forget
those words and their beautiful illus-
tration: "Anybody can do anything
they want to if they only love."


"W HO'S that on our door-step?"
Asked Harry Ball, in an un-
feeling tone.
"La, me! who is he? What is he
doing there, the filthy ragamuffin!"
responded his proud sister, Miss
Florence, a fine lady of thirteen years,
whose face was made cruel, like her
heart, by pride. "Drive that horrid
thing away, Harry, do," she added a
moment after.
Harry, her younger brother, passed


from his father's warm and handsome
parlor, from the window of which
both had been looking, out to the
door, and leaned out into the cold and
cheerless street. Dressed in his warm
fine clothes, he spoke to the boy stand-
ing by the marble step-for boy it was,
and dirty and ragged enough was he.
"Who are you, boy?" asked Harry
in a rough, haughty way.
"Only Jack Price-that's all."
Jack Price answered surly and proud;
for poor boys can be proud sometimes,
and even are so when roughly treated
by the richer. But Jack's words were
desponding and sad also.
"What do you want? and what
are you doing here?"
"I wants pooty ni ever'thin, for I
haint got nothing' but dese old clos and
dis hard crus, an I'm a gnawin' on
dat, if you'll jist look an see."
Harry's reply to this was, "You go

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away from our door." And when
Jack was in no hurry to obey, "Be
off, I say, or I'll call to yonder police-
man, and he'll make you move on.' "
Poor Jack Price "moved on" then,
slow and sullen, carrying his rags and
filth with him; and carrying his hun-
ger with him, too, though he was will-
ing enough to leave that behind, and
the cold, also, which pinched him sore.
And so he "moved on"-hungry,
shoeless, and homeless, and friendless,
and cold-"moved on" out of the city
streets into the country highway. Out
of the city, where pestilence made him
an orphan before he had learned to
know more than his mother's face and
voice; where he had been kicked and
cuffed up from outcast infancy to va-
grant beggar boyhood; where hunger
and crime had been his daily meat
and drink, and filth and pavements
his constant garb and bed; where he

had known no friend but his own cun-
ning, and lived on what he could beg
or steal. He was hungry enough to
do either now, but he was too proud
to beg at the harsh, uncharitable door
he had just left.
He had stolen once too often, poor
fellow! Want-the tyrant who drove
him like a beast every day in and out
among crowds of well-fed, well-clad
boys and girls, and women and men-
want pinched at his stomach till he
put his hand into an old woman's pie-
basket and took a pie. The owner
saw his movement, shouted "thief,"
and attracted a policeman, who
snatched up the boy in a moment,
and found the pie still in his hands.
Jack was dragged to the station, and
from the station to the court, and from
the court to the prison, and plunged
into the dark place there to spend
six weeks. And all this was done to


a wretched, homeless, friendless, hun-
gry boy for the worth of a ten-cent
Jack had spent his six weeks in
jail, and was just out that wintry
day, when he had found a crust in
the gutter, and was standing on Mr.
Ball's doorstep to eat and rest.
Weary of confinement, and yet al-
ready weary of his regained freedom
with its old misery; weary of the
city, of himself, of life, and fearful
of crime and punishment, he was
fleeing his old haunts, having heard
of work to be had upon farms, deter-
mined to seek his fortune away off
there-he knew not where. Thus he
trudged along the road for hours.
His crust was spent long since, and
his strength was wellnigh spent too.
Not a marketman passing would give
him a ride in his wagon; not a way-
side housekeeper would let him pass


in at her door, or give him a crumb
for his hunger. Angry men had
threatened him, and dogs had been
set on him to drive him from many a
gateway. The light of a late Novem-
ber sun had faded from his wretched
garments, and the shadows were shut-
ting him in upon the road, while the
crisp frost was stinging what feeling
was left in his weary feet and limbs.
Then, in the twilight, nearing a
quiet farm-house, Jack turned discon-
solate into the yard. Lurking sulkily
about, he saw no one, but the smell of
new, hot bread was on all the air. Oh
how that smell hungered him! His
eager eyes searched everywhere. Soon
turning an angle of the building, a
large stone oven came in view, and a
tidy young woman taking out of it
large brown loaves. She laid them
upon a shelf at her elbow, and taking
half the number in her arms, bore


them into the kitchen out of Jack's
sight, leaving the remainder but a few
yards from his gaunt hands and hungry
jaws, and no one near to prevent him
from taking what he would.
Almost any one would, like Jack
Price, have moved two or three steps
toward the loaves, or further, if in
Jack's plight, as Jack intended to do.
But those two or three strides brought
him into the best light of the red
western sky, and in view from a
window, whence came a voice, saying,
" Oh, boy!" so soft, so sweet, so sur-
prised, yet tender-"oh, boy, tur hee.
Tum pay wis me," so pleading and
The boy had stopped at the first
sound, and now, scarcely noticing the
words, stood gazing at a child-face
pressed against the window-pane-a
face so young, so pale, so sad, and yet
so heavenly sweet. It softened yet

more as Jack's forlorn appearance
was better understood, and the child-
voice was brim full of pity when it
spoke again. "Poo boy! oo sick. I
tiss oo!" said little Gracie. Rags
and dirt and hunger, indeed all pains
and miseries, were alike sickness to
her; and her little lips were put close
against the glass to give Jack the kiss
that showed her sympathy, as they
would have been against his soiled
cheek had it been in her reach, for
her pity knew no limit but possibility.
Jack was chained to the spot. The
child-face of angel-like compassion,
with the sash for its frame, formed a
picture which reached his soul; and
Gracie's voice seemed as if calling
him from heaven, where he had a dim
idea his mother might be; and from
that picture who could turn away?
Gracie was Farmer Parish's only
child. At one month old her spine


was injured by a fall, and she never
walked, and never sat alone. Now
she was not quite three years old,
always in great pain, yet ever like
an angel's presence in her father's
house. She had that evening been
fastened firmly in her high chair and
placed by the window to see the sun
set, which she fondly loved to do.
No one else was in the room. Alone
she had watched the sun go down
and the red sky fade. Alone and
growing lonesome, she saw and greeted
Jack through the closed window. Her
heart was moved deeper the longer
she beheld the wretched boy. She
said again, "I tiss oo;" and then,
with trembling tone, "Turn see me
ty," and pure, pearly tears fell down
on her yellow hair and stood on the
pane. And Jack Price wept, too, the
first innocent tears for a long, long
time. Poor, wicked Jack Price wept


tears of sorrow, and shame, and guilt.
He understood the child's compassion,
and it came over him with power to
Farmer Parish, coming round the
kitchen-corner, saw and compre-
hended all. His good heart swelled
like his Gracie's; and Jack did not
run away when the farmer approached
him and took his hand. He only said,
with the tear blotches on his face, and
his eyes lifted to those of his new-
found friend, "'Deed, sir, I ain't fittin'.
I'm a hard one. I'm werry bad."
But Jack was taken in, and warmed,
washed, fed and clothed, as Jesus
wished he should be.
He told his whole story. Work
was given him on the farm, which he
soon learned to do well. Gracie loved
him, and Jack loved Gracie-oh who
can ever tell how well? He said to
her mother, "She makes me think

about the angels, and that maybe
Jesus won't drive off even a hard one
like me."
Gracie and the angels a. little while
after met in the other world. Her
grave is the place where Jack Price
goes to pray every day; and Jack
Price is now the honest, trusty fore-
man on the Parish farm.


" JAVE you examined that bill,
11 James ?"
"Yes, sir."
"Anything wrong?"
"I find two errors."
"Ah, let me see."
The lad handed his employer a long
bill that had been placed on his desk
for examination.


Here is an error in the calculation
of ten dollars, which they have made
against themselves; and another of
ten dollars in the footing."
Also against themselves?"
"Yes, sir."
The merchant smiled in a way that
struck the lad as peculiar.
"Twenty dollars against them-
selves," he remarked, in a kind of
pleasant surprise. Trusty clerks
they must have!"
Shall I correct the figures ?" asked
the lad.
"No; let them correct their own
mistakes. We don't examine bills
for other people's benefit," replied
the merchant. "It will be time to
rectify those errors when they find
them out. All so much gain as it
now stands."
The boy's delicate moral sense was
shocked at so unexpected a remark.


He was the son of a poor widow, who
had given him to understand that to
be just was the duty of men.
Mr. Carman, the merchant in whose
employment he had been for only a
few months, was an old friend of his
father, and a person in whom he re-
posed the highest confidence. In fact,
James had always looked upon him
as a kind of model man; and when
Mr. Carman agreed to take him into
his store, he felt that great good-for-
tune was in his way.
"Let them correct their own mis-
takes." These words made a strong
impression on the mind of James
Lewis. When first spoken by Mr.
Carman, and with the meaning then
involved, he felt, as we have said,
shocked; but as he turned them over
again in his thoughts, and connected
their utterance with a person who
stood so high in his mother's estima-


tion, he began to think that perhaps
the thing was fair enough in business.
Mr. Carman was hardly the man to
do wrong. A few days after James
had examined the bill a clerk from
the house by which it had been ren-
dered called for settlement. The lad,
who was present, waited with interest
to see whether Mr. Carman would
speak of the error. But he made no
remark. A check for the amount of
the bill was rendered, was filled up,
and a receipt taken.
"Is that right?" James asked
himself this question. His moral
sense said no; but the fact that Mr.
Carman had so acted bewildered his
It may be the way in business"-
so he thought to himself-" but it
don't look honest. I wouldn't have
believed it of him."
Mr. Carman had a kind of way with


him that won the boy's heart and
naturally tended to make him judge
whatever he might do in a most favor-
able manner.
"I wish he had corrected that error,"
he said to himself a great many times
when thinking in a pleased way of
Mr. Carman, and his own good-for-
tune in having been received into his
employment. "It don't look right,
but may be it's the way of business.
One day he went to the bank and
drew the money for a check. In
counting it over he found that the
teller had paid him fifty dollars too
much, so he went back to the counter
and told him of his mistake. The
teller thanked him, and he returned
to the store with the consciousness in
his mind of having done right.
"The teller overpaid me by fifty
dollars," he said to Mr. Carman, as
he handed him the money.


Indeed," replied the latter, a light
breaking over his countenance; and
he hastily counted the bank-bills.
The light faded as the last bill left
his fingers.
"There's no mistake, James." A
tone of disappointment was in his
"Oh, I gave him back the fifty
dollars. Wasn't that right ?"
"You simpleton!" exclaimed Mr.
Carman, don't you know that bank
mistakes are never corrected? If the
teller had paid you fifty dollars short,
he would not have made it right."
SThe warm blood mantled the cheek
of James under this reproof. It is
often the case that more shame is felt
for a blunder than a crime. In this
instance the lad felt a sort of mortifi-
cation at having done what Mr. Car-
man was pleased to call a silly thing,
and he made up his mind that if they


should ever overpay him a thousand
dollars at the bank he should bring
the amount to his employer, and let
him do as he pleased with the money.
Let people look after their own
mistakes," said Mr. Carman.
James Lewis pondered these things
in his heart. The impression they
made was too strong ever to be for-
gotten. "It may be right," he said,
but he did not feel altogether satisfied.
A month or two after the occurrence
of that bank mistake, as James counted
over his weekly wages, just received
from Mr. Carman, he discovered that
he was paid half a dollar too much.
The first impulse of his mind was
to return the half dollar to his em-
ployer, and it was on his lips to say,
" You have given me half a dollar too
much, sir," when the unforgotten
words, "Let people look after their
own mistakes," flashing upon his


thoughts, made him hesitate. To
hold a parley with evil is to be over-
I must think about this," said
James as he put the money into his
pocket. "If it is true in one case, it
is true in another. Mr. Carman don't
correct mistakes that people make in
his favor, and he can't complain when
the rule works against himself."
But the boy was very far from be-
ing in a comfortable state. He felt
that to keep half a dollar would be a
dishonest act. Still, he could not
make up his mind to return it-at
least, not then.
James did not return the half dol-
lar, but spent it for his own gratifica-
tion. After he had done this it came
suddenly into his head that Mr. Car-
man had only been trying him, and
he was filled with anxiety and alarm.
Not long after, Mr. Carman repeated


the same mistake. James kept the
half dollar with less hesitation.
Let him correct his own mistake,"
said he, resolutely; "that's the doc-
trine he acts on with other people,
and he can't complain if he gets paid
in the same coin he puts in circula-
tion. I just wanted half a dollar."
From this time the fine moral sense
of James Lewis was blunted. He had
taken an evil counselor into his heart,
stimulated a spirit of covetousness-
latent in almost every mind-which
caused him to desire the possession of
things beyond his ability to obtain.
James had good business qualifica-
tions, and so pleased Mr. Carman by
his intelligence, industry and tact
with customers that he advanced him
rapidly, and gave him, before he was
eighteen years of age, the most reli-
able position in the store. But James
had learned something more from his


employer than how to do business
well. He had learned to be dis-
honest. He had never forgotten the
first lesson he had received in his bad
science; he had acted upon it not only
in two instances, but in a hundred,
and almost always to the injury of
Mr. Carman. He had long since
given up waiting for mistakes to be
made in his favor, but originated them
in the varied and complicated trans-
actions of a large business in which
he was trusted implicitly; for it never
had occurred to Mr. Carman that his
failure to be just to the letter might
prove a snare to this young man.
James grew sharp, cunning and
skillful; always on the alert; always
bright, and ready to meet any ap-
proaches toward a discovery of his
wrong-doing by his employer, who
held him in the highest regard.
Thus it went on until James Lewis


was in his twentieth year, when the
merchant had his suspicions aroused
by a letter that spoke of the young
man as not keeping the most respect-
able company, and as spending money
too freely for a clerk on a moderate
Before this time, James had removed
his mother into a pleasant house, for
which he paid a rent of four hundred
dollars; his salary was eight hundred,
but he deceived his mother by telling
her it was fifteen hundred. Every
comfort that she needed was fully
supplied, and she was beginning to
feel that after a long and painful
struggle with the world her happier
days had come.
James was at his desk when the
letter was received by Mr. Carman.
He looked at his employer, and saw
him change countenance suddenly.
He read it over twice, and James saw


that the contents produced disturb-
ance. Mr. Carman glanced toward
the desk, and their eyes met; it was
only for a moment, but the look that
James received made his heart stop
There was something about the
movements of Mr. Carman for the
rest of the day that troubled the
young man. It was plain to him
that suspicion had been aroused by
that letter. Oh how bitter now did
he repent, in dread of discovery and
punishment, the evil of which he had
been guilty! Exposure would dis-
grace and ruin him, and bow the head
of his widowed mother even to the
"You are not well this evening,"
said Mrs. Lewis, as she looked at her
son's changed face across the tea-table
and noticed that he did not eat.
"My head aches."


"Perhaps the tea will make you
feel better."
"I'll lie down on the sofa in the
parlor for a short time."
Mrs. Lewis followed him into the
parlor in a little while, and sitting
down on the sofa on which he was
lying, placed her hand upon his head.
Ah, it would take more than the lov-
ing pressure of a mother's hand to
ease the pain from which he was suf-
fering. The touch of that pure hand
increased the pain to agony.
Do you feel better?" asked Mrs.
Lewis. She had remained some time
with her hand on his forehead.
Not much," he replied; and rising
as he spoke, he added, "I think a walk
in the open air will do me good."
"Don't go out, James," said Mrs.
Lewis, a troubled feeling coming into
her heart.
"I'll only walk a few squares."

And James went from the parlor and
passed into the street.
"There is something more than
headache the matter with him,"
thought Mrs. Lewis.
For half an hour James walked
without any purpose in his mind be-
yond escape from the presence of his
mother. At last his walk brought
him near Mr. Carman's store, and at
passing he was surprised at seeing a
light within.
"What can this mean?" he asked
himself, a new fear creeping, with its
shuddering impulse, into his heart.
He listened by the door and win-
dows, but he could not hear any sound
"There's something wrong," he said;
" what can it be? If this is discovered,
what will be the end of it? Ruin!
ruin! My poor mother!"
The wretched young man hastened


on, walked the street for two hours,
when he returned home. His mother
met him when he entered, and, with
unconcealed anxiety, asked him if he
were better. He said yes, but in a
manner that only increased the trou-
ble she felt, and passed up hastily to
his own room.
In the morning the strangely altered
face of James as he met his mother at
the breakfast-table struck alarm into
her heart. He was silent, and evaded
all her questions. While they sat at
the table the door-bell rung loudly.
The sound startled James, and he turn-
ed his head to listen in a nervous way.
"Who is it?" asked Mrs. Lewis.
"A gentleman who wishes to see
Mr. James," replied the girl.
James rose instantly, and went out
into the hall, shutting the dining-room
door as he did so. Mrs. Lewis sat
waiting her son's return. She heard

him coming back in a few moments;
but he did not enter the dining-room.
Then he returned along the hall to
the street door, and she heard it shut.
All was silent. Starting up she ran
into the passage, but James was not
there. He had gone away with the
person who called.
Ah, that was a sad going away.
Mr. Carman had spent half the night
in examining the accounts of James,
and discovered frauds of over six
thousand dollars. Blindly indignant,
he sent an officer to arrest him early
in the morning, and it was with this
officer that he went away from his
mother, never to return.
"The young villain shall lie in the
bed he has made for himself!" ex-
claimed Mr. Carman in his bitter in-
dignation. And he made the expo-
sure completely. On the trial he
showed an eager desire to have him

convicted, and presented such an ar-
ray of evidence that the jury could
not give any other verdict than
The poor mother was in court, and
audible in the silence that followed
came her convulsed sobs upon the air.
The presiding judge addressed the
culprit, and asked if he had anything
to say why the sentence of the law
should not be pronounced against
him. All eyes were turned upon the
pale, agitated young man, who rose
with an effort and leaned against the
railing by which he stood, as if need-
ing the support.
"Will it please your honors," he
said, "to direct my prosecutor to come
a little nearer, so that I can look at
him and your honors at the same
Mr. Carman was directed to come
forward to where the boy stood.


James looked at him steadily for a
few moments, and turned to the
"What I have to say to your honors
is this" (he spoke calmly and dis-
tinctly), "and it may in a degree ex-
tenuate, though it cannot excuse, my
crime. I went into that man's store
an innocent boy, and if he had been
an honest man I would not have stood
before you to-day as a criminal!"
Mr. Carman appealed to the court
for protection against an allegation of
such an outrageous character; but he
was peremptorily ordered to be silent.
James went on in a firm voice:
Only a few weeks after I went into
his employment I examined a bill by
his direction, and discovered an error
of twenty dollars."
The face of Mr. Carman became
"You remember it, I see," remarked


James, and I shall have cause to re-
member it while I live. The error
was in favor of Mr. Carman. I asked
if I should correct the figures, and he
answered, No; let them correct their
own mistakes. We don't examine
bills for other people's benefit.' It
was my first lesson in dishonesty. I
saw the bill settled, and Mr. Carman
take twenty dollars that were not his
own. I felt shocked at first, it seemed
such a wrong thing. But soon after
he called me a simpleton for handing
back a fifty-dollar bill to the teller of
a bank which he had overpaid me on
a check, and then-"
"May I ask the protection of the
court?" said Mr. Carman.
"Is it true what the lad says?"
asked the presiding judge.
Mr. Carman hesitated, and looked
confused. All eyes were on his face;
and judges and jury, lawyers and


spectators, felt certain that he was
guilty of leading the unhappy young
man astray.
"Not long afterward," resumed
Lewis, "in receiving my wages I
found that Mr. Carman had paid me
fifty cents too much. I was about to
give it back to him, when I remem-
bered his remark about letting people
correct their own mistakes, and said
to myself, 'Let him correct his own
errors,' and dishonestly kept the
money. Again the same thing hap-
pened, and again I kept the money
that did not of right belong to me.
This was the beginning of evil, and
here I am. If he had shown any
mercy, I might have kept silent and
made no defence."
The young man covered his face
with his hands and sat down, over-
powered with his feelings. His
mother, who was near him, sobbed


aloud, and bending over, laid her
hands on his head, saying:
My poor boy! my poor boy !"
There were few eyes in the court-
room undimmed. In the silence that
followed, Mr. Carman spoke out:
"Is my character to be thus blasted
on the word of a criminal, your hon-
ors ? Is this right ?"
"Your solemn oath that this charge
is untrue," said the judge, "will place
you in the right." It was the un-
happy boy's only opportunity, and
the court felt bound in humanity to
hear him.
James Lewis .stood up again in-
stantly, and turned his white face and
dark, piercing eyes upon those of Mr.
"Let him take his oath if he dare!"
he exclaimed.
Mr. Carman consulted with his
counsel and withdrew.

After a brief conference with his
associates, the presiding judge said,
addressing the criminal:
"In consideration of your youth,
and the temptation to which in tender
years you were unhappily subject, the
court gives you the slightest sentence,
one year's imprisonment. But let.me
solemnly warn you against any further
steps in the way you have taken.
Crime can have no valid excuse. It
is evil in the sight of God and man,
and leads only to suffering. When
you come forth again after your brief
incarceration, may it be with the
resolution to die rather than commit
And the curtain fell on that sad
scene in the boy's life. When it was
lifted again, and he came forth from
prison a year afterward, his mother
was dead. From the day her pale
face faded from his vision as he passed


from the court-room he never looked
upon her again.
Ten years afterward a man was
reading a newspaper in a far Western
town. He had a calm, serious face,
and looked like one who had known
suffering and trial.
"Brought to justice at last!" he
said to himself, as the blood came to
his face; "convicted on the charge of
open insolvency, and sent to State
Prison. So much for the man who
gave me in tender years the first les-
sons in ill-doing! But, thank God!
the other lessons have been remem-
bered. 'When you come forth again,'
said the judge, 'may it be with the
resolution to die rather than commit
crime!' and I have kept this injunc-
tion in my heart when there seemed
no way of escaping except through
crime; and, God helping me, I will
keep it to the end."



IT was one of those splendid after-
noons we sometimes have, when
the crickets chirp themselves hoarse
and the birds sing till nightfall.
School was over, and the girls, with
arms full of books, were slowly walk-
ing down the path to the road. At
the gate, as they parted, one of them
called to Katie Allen and Ella Gray:
"I suppose you girls will be at
Carrie's to-morrow night?"
"Oh yes," answered Katie; "we
shall be there."
Ella was silent; but when she and
Katie had walked on a little way, she
looked at her companion, and said:
"I'm not going to Carrie Dean's,
"Not going to Carrie Dean's party,
Ella, when everybody is invited and

49 50


going, and we expect to have such
a delightful time? What do you
mean ?"
"Nothing, only I'm not going;"
and her eyes filled with tears and
her lip quivered, as she added: "The
truth is, Katie, I haven't any dress
that is suitable to wear; and, as I
have no means to get one, I shall stay
at home, for I shouldn't like to make
Carrie blush because I came poorly
Now, Carrie Dean's party had been
talked of and thought of for a week
by the whole school as the greatest
event which had happened in that
little circle for a long time. All the
girls had been invited, and no one an-
ticipated more pleasure from it than
Katie Allen, though all her thoughts
had included Ella, for they were most
intimate friends. The same age, the
same size, liking the same studies and


amusements, there was only one dif-
ference-Katie was wealthy, Ella was
Katie was a very kind, sympathetic
little girl, and she tried to prevent
Ella's feeling any difference in their
positions; but now an occurrence had
arisen which she didn't know how to
manage. She was disappointed at
the prospect of not having Ella go,
for she knew how much her friend
would enjoy it and that she didn't
have so many pleasures as Katie her-
self had. So she thought and thought,
as they went along, how she should
have Ella go. She would have liked
to offer to lend Ella one of her own
dresses, but she was afraid it might
hurt her friend's feelings; so she con-
cluded that was not advisable. Then
she thought she would buy some ma-
terial and give it to Ella, but she re-
flected that Ella wouldn't like to ac-


cept such a gift from her, and if she
should, there wouldn't be time to
make it up.
So they reached Ella's home, and
as Katie kissed her, she said, sadly:
"I am really sorry you are not going;
it makes me feel real lonely to think
of going without you. But who
knows? Perhaps some good fairy
will send you a dress, after all."
So Katie walked on by herself, and
wondered what was to be done.
If her mother had only been at
home, she would have gone to her at
once; but as she wasn't, she knew if
there were any way out of the diffi-
culty she must find it herself. But
all to no purpose were her wonderings.
She went to bed without lessening her
trouble by any clear idea.
The sun shone brightly into her
two blue eyes when she opened them
next morning, and the very first


thought which entered her busy little
brain was of the party and Ella.
She jumped up, and while she was
brushing out her golden curls an idea
occurred to her. She clapped her
hands, and cried out, "I have it!" in
such an energetic manner that her
maid, who was just coming in, in-
Have what, Miss Katie ?"
Katie laughingly replied:
"I'll tell you some time, Ann; but
now help me on with my frock as
quick as you can, for I want to get
through with the day as fast as it will
"So you can go to Miss Dean's
party, I suppose."
Katie's lip trembled a very little,
as she answered:
"No, that's not it, for I may not
Ann had taken care of Katie ever


since her babyhood, and loved her
dearly; but she forebore to ask any
questions, for she saw the face of her
little charge was troubled, and she
knew, if it was anything she could
help her with, Katie would be sure to
tell her.
The plan Katie had hit on was this:
When it was nearly dark, she should
fold up her own pretty new muslin,
all trimmed with ruffles and ribbons,
and, directing the bundle to Ella, send
Ann with it to Mrs. Gray's.
If she did this, it would involve
her staying at home herself, for she
had no other dress she was willing to
wear. She wanted very much to go
to the party; she had had her frock
made purposely for it. All the girls
expected she would be there, and, in-
deed, it would be a hard trial to give
it up. But then there was Ella, poor
Ella! who was deprived of so many


pleasures Katie had, and who would
enjoy the affair so much.
Katie thought all this, and, like the
brave, good girl she was, determined
her friend should go in her stead.
Soon as breakfast was over, she ran
off to call Ella on the way to school.
When they met, Ella said:
"What is the matter with you,
Katie? You seem so pleased about
"Oh, I am delighted," laughed
Katie, only it's a secret, and I can't
tell you; but maybe you'll know
some time."
All day long the little girl was ex-
cited, and it seemed to her as if les-
sons would never be over, and that it
would never be dark, and that some-
thing would surely happen to the ruf-
fled muslin while she was at school.
When they neared Ella's gate on
their way home, she said quietly:

"I shall not see you till to-morrow,
I suppose, Katie; I hope you will
have a nice time at Carrie's. I wish
I were going with you."
As Katie only kissed her by way
of reply, Ella thought: "She don't
know what it is not to have every-
thing and do everything she wants
to." Then, being ashamed of herself
for having such a thought, she added,
mentally: "But I know Katie won't
enjoy it so much without me."
Her little friend was so full of her
plan that she ran all the way home.
When she went in, she said to Ann,
who was in the entry,
"I want you to do an errand for
me by and by."
Ann said she would be ready when
she was wanted, and Katie bounded
up the stairs into her room, and took
down her muslin robe. It lay on the
bed, looking so fresh and so pretty

its little owner almost hesitated. But
one remembrance of Ella's sad face
when they parted made Katie brave
again, and she folded the frock neatly,
wrapped it in paper, and then wrote
this little note, in great, spreading
characters, as unlike her own dainty
ones as she could make them:
Will Ella Gray wear this to-night
for the sake of one who loves her very
Pinning this on the outside, she
took the bundle down to Ann, direct-
ing her to leave it on Mrs. Gray's
door-steps, after ringing the bell, for
Katie was afraid if they saw Ann
they would guess at once who sent the
It was almost dark when Ella heard
the door-bell sound through the house,
and ran to admit whoever might be
waiting. But, on opening the door,
there was no one in sight, and she


was just turning round when she
caught a glimpse of the package.
Seizing it with trembling fingers, she
ran to the lighted sitting-room, ex-
claiming: "Oh, mother, only see what
I have here!" She read the note,
then opened the bundle, while her
brown eyes grew very large with
delight and surprise.
Oh, mother, mother!" she cried;
"who could have sent me this beau-
tiful present? I shall go, after all,
and won't Katie be glad?" It didn't
enter her head that her friend could
have had anything to do with the
Mrs. Gray was pleased too, for it
gave her child so much happiness;
and while she helped Ella get ready,
she thought: I wish I knew the
kind friend who did this for Ella.
I would thank her with my whole

Meanwhile, Katie sat at home, not
a bit disconsolate at the prospect of a
long evening alone with her school-
books. She had been hard at work
an hour when the door opened, and
in came her mother, who had returned
earlier than she had expected from a
visit to the city.
"But, my dear Katie," said her
mother after their greetings were
over, "why are you not at Carrie's?
I supposed you would be there when
I got home."
At first, the little girl didn't seem
inclined to answer; but, after a while,
she laid her head in her mother's lap
and told her all about Ella and the
"My dear child," cried Mrs. Allen,
kissing Katie when she had finished
the recital, "you have done a very
kind and generous deed, and I know
the satisfaction you feel is reward


enough. I am more pleased that you
should have done it in my absence,
for it shows how purely it was your
own thoughtfulness."
"But, after all," replied Katie, "it
was lucky I stayed at home, for you
came, and I've got that old sum done
that has bothered me so for the last
week. I guess Miss Snow will be
glad of that when I hand it to her
Early next morning, Katie went
over to see her companion, for she
wanted to hear all about the party
before school.
When Ella saw her coming, she
ran to meet her, and cried:
"Oh, Katie, some one sent me a
beautiful dress last night, and I went
to Carrie Dean's; and I had a splen-
did time, only I was so sorry you
weren't there. Why didn't you

Then your good fairy did appear?"
asked Katie.
All at once it popped into Ella's
head that Katie was the good fairy;
and, turning, she looked into her blue
eyes, asking:
"Katie, did you send me the frock?
Was it the one you were going to
wear, and was that why you couldn't
Katie blushed and looked down,
for she wouldn't say No," and she
didn't like to say Yes."
"Oh, Katie," said Ella, sadly, "how
good you are! and to think that I
should have prevented your going!
I'm so sorry. But you must take
your pretty muslin back; I couldn't
keep it."
No, I won't," stoutly asserted the
blue-eyed girl; "the idea of taking
back anything I once gave away!
Besides, it was lucky I didn't go last

night, for mamma came home, and I
should have been real sorry to be
away then."
Then Ella gave a description of the
party she had enjoyed so much. Katie
was delighted, and she felt that her
sacrifice, which was hard at first, had
given her more happiness than any-
thing she had ever done.


IT was a quiet Sabbath evening
among the granite hills, and as
twilight gave place to darkness and
the stars one by one showed their
sparkling faces, I retired to a cham-
ber with my little prattler of some
four and a half years, to talk with
him and seek to direct the little mind
in its first unfoldings. I was endeav-

oring, this evening, to give him some
idea of the commandments which he
was learning to repeat; and in order
to explain the meaning of the words,
"Thou shalt not steal," used little
stories as familiar illustrations.
Many a question he asked which I
could hardly answer, such as-
"Mother, would I be a thief if I took
something that I knew folks wanted
out of the way?" At last, after hear-
ing his prayers, I left him to think
over the subject, and for a half hour
his little prattle about the "thief"
could be heard, as he communed with
himself, and then he was hushed in
the land of childhood's sweet dreams.
The next day he went to school, and
at noon came bounding in with the
"Mother, pa must get me a new
hoop, and a stick to roll it with, just
like Georgey Holbrook's."

I assured him he should have a
hoop, but it was not convenient to get
it that day. When he came from the
evening session, he ran to me with a
forced laugh, not his usual one, and a
hoop in his hand, with-
"See, mother, I have found a hoop.
So pa won't have to buy me one, will
I saw from his manner there was
something wrong, but thought I would
not notice it, but let it come out, as I
felt sure it would; so I answered him
-"Well, darling, you have a hoop,
and such a nice one; go and play
with it in the yard, and have a good
He started, and then came back
"You didn't kiss me, mother, when
I came home."
Giving him the desired kiss, he
took his hoop into the yard. I stood

at the window and watched his move-
ments. He would roll it a little way,
then take it up and look at it, as though
it went wrong; he evidently seemed
to be thinking of something besides
the enjoyment of his play. Soon the
hoop and stick were carefully put
away in the shed, and he came in and
seated himself by my side, with-
"Please read to me, or tell me a
story, mother. I think I'm too tired
to play any more to-night."
I told him a long story about a little
boy that did wrong and did not tell
his dear mother; how unhappy he
was, and how wretched it made her
when she knew it. He seemed very
uneasy, and then said:
"Now please, mother, tell me one
funny story; not a true one like that,
you know, but just one to make me
laugh, like those Cousin Mary told
me" (alluding to some of the


"Mother-Goose Melodies" that a
friend had amused him with).
I told him I could not tell him any
of that sort, for I did not think they
would make him feel happy. Well,
tea-time came, and then his hour for
rest. I went to his chamber as usual
to hear his prayers, and I thought the
little heart that had done wrong would
tell me the trouble that I could see
filled it. But conscience had not
whispered quite enough, and I forbore
to question him. When I gave him
the good-night kiss, he said:
"You do love me, don't you,
mother ?"
"Certainly; I always love my dar-
ling little boy."
"Well, God loves me, too; don't he,
"Yes, darling, he always loves good
children; but if they do wrong, it
grieves him very much. I hope my


little Grenville won't do wrong, be-
cause he has had a dear mother to
tell him the right way, and dear
teachers;" and then I told him of
poor little orphan children that had
no one to care for them and lead them
aright, and that they would be less to
blame if they were naughty. I bade
him good-night and left him, know-
ing, from the moist blue eye, that the
little conscience was urging him to
tell mother he had done wrong. The
next morning his little pattering feet
were early heard coming to my room,
bringing his clothes for the servant to
dress him-he usually waited till she
went after him for breakfast; he came
up to my side, and looked me in the
face so earnestly:
"Mother, I ain't a thief, am I?"
"A thief, my darling I hope not.
My little boy a thief! Why do you
ask that?"

"Well, mother, you see, that hoop
that I brought home was Georgey
Holbrook's hoop. I knew it was his,
but it was lying in the road, in the
water, mother, and I was afraid it
would rot, so I brought it home,. and
put it in our dry shed, and am going
to carry it back this morning; and
that won't be a theft, will it, mother?"
My heart was full; I could see that
he was trying to cover the act of steal-
ing by a falsehood. I looked steadily
at him, and said:
Grenville, did you mean to take
it back again ? Now remember, and
tell mother the truth; you know that
it is just as wicked to tell a lie as to
His big eyes filled with tears, and
he said:
"No, mother; I didn't mean to
carry it back. I saw it lying in the
road, and I didn't think I was being

a thief till I brought it home. Won't
God forget all about it if I carry it
back, and never touch any more
things that don't belong to me?"
I assured him, if he was very sorry
and ready to take it back to the little
boy's mother, and tell her that he had
been very wicked in taking it, and
that if he never did the same thing
again, I thought God would forgive
him if he did not "forget" his sin.
He did not wait to eat his breakfast
before the hoop was returned, and my
little boy, assured of my forgiveness,
was once more happy. But it was a
lesson he never will forget. And not
long since he said to me:
Mother, I never shall take any-
body's things again, for something
keeps telling me to tell a wrong story
about it."
No, little ones, you cannot commit
the sin of stealing, without resorting


to a wicked story to hide it. So, never,
never be a thief.


ABBY ROSE had reached the
bottom of the basket. The socks
were darned and the buttons on all
the shirts, the knees patched and the
rents in the little frock mended. She
sat resting a little, with her hands
folded, looking thoughtfully into the
"And to what does it all amount?"
she asked herself. "When I was a
girl I thought I should be a power in
the world-be a missionary to the
heathen, or lead my own sex up the
pathway of reform; to rouse in my
sisters' hearts a purpose to break the

bonds of fashion and frivolity. But
here I am, scarcely ever passing be-
yond the gateway of my little home!
In the morning I get the breakfast,
make cheese or butter, wash dishes,
sweep, dust, make beds, wash, iron,
bake, clean floors; in the afternoon
turn tailoress, and take care of baby.
Thus it is from year to year! Mean-
while, the dreams of my youth are
fading, and age creeps on. I am
bound hand and foot. Why is it?
Why am I, who feel myself fitted for
a larger sphere, prisoned among such
petty cares ?"
Her reverie was interrupted by the
children rushing in from school, the
noise awakening baby Johnny; and
calling Jimmy from his play out of
doors, the mother soon had work
enough upon her hands. All were
hungry, and began to clamor for
supper. Baby's wants supplied and

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Susie stationed by the cradle, the
mother prepared the evening meal.
Tea over and father assisted away to
the meeting, the table was cleared, the
room put in order, preparations made
for breakfast, and Nabby, with weary
limbs and aching head, sat down to
prepare the little ones for bed.
Ma," said Joseph, who had been
tugging away at his boots upon the
floor, how is it that we can see our-
selves in looking-glasses?"
Mother ransacks her memory of
natural philosophy, and explains to
Master Inquisitive some of the mys-
teries of optics.
Ma," says little Susan, putting a
soft arm, just undressed, around her
mother's neck, "one of the girls at
school to-day whispered to me, and
before I thought, I answered, and then
to-night I told the teacher I was per-
fect. I didn't mean to tell a lie; I

forgot. Was I a wicked girl?" And
the mother disposes of this query
"Mamma," said little Jimmy,
climbing on her lap and hugging
her cub-fashion, "you's the doodest
mamma I ever see!"
Mother buttons up the little fellow's
night-gown, while she kisses him and
tells him he has been good all day,
and she is very glad. Then baby
Johnny cries a little, and her foot is
on the cradle.
"Ma," inquired Joseph, "is it ever
right to do wrong ?"
"What a question that is !" she re-
"But," he continues, "it is wrong
to tell wrong stories, isn't it ?"
"Certainly, my son."
"And deceiving is telling lies ?"
"Yes, it is acting lies."
"Well, now, to-day our teacher

was telling us how generals make
their opponents think they are going
to do one thing, and then they go and
do another; he says it is strategy. Is
strategy right ?"
So this question of morality is dis-
cussed with an aim to Joseph's satis-
Oh, ma, I had forgotten," says
Susan; won't you hear me say my
verses before I go to bed? I'm afraid
I haven't got them quite right, and
to-morrow is Sabbath-day, you know."
"What does it mean, ma?" asked
Joseph, who had started for his room
with his clothing on his shoulder, re-
turning to her side and leaning on
the arm of the rocking-chair-" what
does it mean when it says, I am the
true Vine?' Jesus isn't a real vine, is
This necessitates an explanation of
figurative language, and the little stu-

dent is dismissed with a second good-
night kiss, and goes to bed. Susy and
Jimmy follow, and after prayers are
tucked up and left to their slumbers.
Mother returns to Johnny's cradle-
side, and takes her knitting. There
is a rap at her kitchen door. It is
her neighbor, Mrs. Wilson.
I came in, Mrs. Rose, to see if you
know what to do for my Sammy; he
has the croup, I suspect."
Now, Nabby knows that the man-
agement of croup is not to be trust-
ed to unpracticed hands; and as her
husband is just entering, she leaves
the baby in his care and goes and
spends an hour with Mrs. Wilson's
child. Returning late, she finds her
own babe crying for its mother, and
she retires to sleep what she can with
a teething child, and to dream mean-
while of hospitals, in which her own
boys are soldiers, sick with croup, and


little Susy, a Chinese heathen child,
she is trying to teach to read the
English Bible.
Sunday morning dawns. Father,
Joseph and Susy are prepared for
church; and after seeing them off,
Nabby returns to the sitting-room
with Jimmy and the baby, and sits
down to lull the little ones to sleep.
Once I could worship God weekly
in the sanctuary," she thinks, as she
rocks her nestling in her arms.
"Once I sung in the choir, but my
voice is broken now. Once I was a
teacher in the Sabbath-school, and
how I loved my class and they hung
on my teachings! Shall I ever be
again as useful as then? The cares
of this world-I fear they're crowding
out religion from my heart. A tree
is known by its fruits; what am I
doing for my Lord, who has done so
much for me?"

"Ma," says Jimmy, with great ani-
mation, turning from the window
where he had been watching the
people go to meeting, "I'se going to
live in happy land; I'se smart boy, I
is !"
"Quiet, darling; let brother go to
sleep," returns mamma, smiling at her
three-year old's idea of preparation
for the kingdom.
Baby is once more at rest, and
Nabby takes the family Bible in her
"Oh, mamma," shouts Jimmy,
jumping down from the table on
which he had just clambered, "read
me the 'tory 'bout little Samuel heard
the Lord tall him; won't you, please?
I dess he talled me too last night,
tause I thought I heard somefin; but I
was so seepy I don't know 'zactly
about it;" and the mother, who was
trying to inspire her heart with


David's sweet devotion, turns the
pages backward. But she does not
do it patiently, and the child, soon
tiring of the story that she reads to
him mechanically and unsimplified,
throws himself upon the rug to play
with his pet kitten. All her prayer-
fulness is gone; she turns the leaves
over carelessly. Her eye glances
casually on St. Luke's description of
the supper of our Lord.
"And it is communion-day at
church to-day," she sighs. "Why
can I not be there? It is so long
since I sat at the Saviour's table with
his friends!"
The babe moaned in its sleep, and
the mother kissed its upturned cheek.
"Poor darling, I fear it will be sick !"
Mamma, you hasn't tissed me
once to-day," says little Jimmy,
crowding his chubby hand into hers,
and looking up pleadingly; and so


she presses the little boy close to her
bosom, and gives him too a mother's
She has laid the Bible on the stand
at her side still open, and Jimmy turns
the leaves over to the last of John.
The mother's eye is caught by that
memorable questioning of our Lord
to Peter: "Lovest thou me more than
these?" and in her heart she makes
the same reply: "Yea, Lord, thou
knowest that I love thee." Then she
reads the Saviour's gentle admonition,
"Feed my lambs."
Were these words meant for her
that they melt and move her so?
Jesus' lambs They were beneath
her humble roof, she had them in
charge, and realized it not; she took
the lesson with her to her closet, and
on her knees attained a higher esti-
mate of her maternal duties, and re-
solved, with the Saviour's help, to do

these duties faithfully and with a
glad heart.
Mother, thou canst find no better
work than to feed the lambs of the
Good Shepherd. He has given them
to thy care; lead them on to the
heavenly fields; guide them to the soft
pastures of Canaan. Thine is a quiet,
sacred toil; falter not, and by and by
thou shalt find thy needed rest and
a fadeless reward on the Eternal


IN a little village in the neighbor-
hood of Madrid, the great capital
of Spain, there lived, about a hundred
and fifty years ago, a shoemaker who
had an only son. The man and his
wife were poor, but they saw the ne-

cessity of giving Carlos a good educa-
tion, which was a very uncommon
thing in Spain at that time. Carlos
grew more intelligent from year to
year, for he paid great attention to
his books. It was the wish of his
parents that he should join some pro-
fession-be a lawyer, a preacher or a
doctor. But still it was time enough
to think about that hereafter. Carlos
must be well educated, so that he
could be prepared to enter any pro-
There was one peculiarity which dis-
tinguished Carlos above all his play-
mates and friends-he loved his pa-
rents, respected their word and was
never known to regard their advice as
worthless. He became distinguished
in school as being the best scholar in
arithmetic and writing. Though he
was not a large boy, yet he wrote a
very beautiful hand, and was fre-


quently called on to set copies for the
rest of the scholars. By and by he
passed through the different grades at
school, and was already in his eigh-
teenth year. His mother had pri-
vately laid aside a little money from
year to year, without saying anything
to anybody about it, which sum she
intended to give to Carlos to travel
with when he became old enough to
travel alone. She now told him what
she had done, and expressed her wish
that he might travel through different
parts of Europe, particularly France
and Great Britain. Greatly to the
surprise of her husband and of Carlos,
she brought out, a little bag of gold,
and said that it had been her savings
ever since Carlos was an infant.
The arrangements were all made
for Carlos to start off on his journey,
and even the day was fixed. But how
little he knew what was before him 1

Just then the Spanish succession war
broke out-a war which was carried
on by two different persons who were
rivals for the throne. Of course
everybody had to enter the army, and
the young men first called on were
those who were about the age of
Carlos. He had to engage in the
war, and was compelled to enter the
navy. His parents expressed great
sorrow at his departure, yet they told
him these words when he left them
one beautiful May morning: "You
have never disobeyed us intentionally,
and you leave with our blessing. Only
remember the instructions we have
given you-always pray regularly
night and morning, read the little
Bible which you have, and always
bear in mind that your heavenly
Father sees all you do and knows all
your thoughts."
The vessel on which Carlos was to

be a sailor was to leave Cadiz, a great
Spanish seaport, four days from that
time. Carlos did not know where the
vessel was going to sail to; he only
knew that she was to leave. Life on
the sea was very strange to him, and
it was several days before he knew
where the vessel was bound. By and
by he found out that she had been
ordered to South America, and was
going to sail directly around Cape
Horn and land at Lima, Peru. On
the voyage, Carlos became a favorite
with everybody. Though he was only
a common sailor in the navy, like two
hundred and fifty others on the same
vessel, he yet became distinguished
above the rest by his pleasant man-
ners, intelligence and general good
conduct. After the vessel reached
Lima, there were more sailors taken
on board; but one of the officers who
had come over from Spain landed at

Lima, made his headquarters there,
and by special request took Carlos
with him as his bookkeeper and sec-
retary. Carlos was very much pleased
with this arrangement, for he did not
like the sea at all. He stayed in the
city three years, and increased in the
confidence and love of his employer
from day to day.
Having saved a little money during
the time of his employment, and land
being very cheap in the neighborhood
of Lima at that time, he told the offi-
cer that he would like to buy a piece
of land, and that it was lawful for a
soldier, in case he had money enough,
to buy his freedom from the service,
and therefore he would make applica-
tion to buy his freedom. The officer
was very much surprised at this state-
ment, but he could say nothing against
it. He made it a very easy matter
for Carlos to buy his freedom, and


also advised him to buy a little piece
of land if he had a disposition to be-
come a farmer.
Six years passed by, during which
time Carlos increased in means, and
became one of the largest landowners
in all the neighborhood of Lima,
Everything that he did seemed to
prosper. Many of the natives of the
country were very dishonest, and they
led anything else but industrious and
respectable lives. But they all re-
spected Carlos, for whenever he em-
ployed anybody, he paid him well for
it, treated his neighbors well, and his
intelligence led him to be consulted
on very important matters.
He could not forget his parents,
however, who lived far off in Spain.
He wrote to them several times, and
on one occasion sent a large sum of
money in a letter; but he had never
received an answer to any one of his

letters. He knew that he owed all
his prosperity to the Lord, and that
his parents, by their advice and good
example, had been the instruments of
his success. He became more anxious
all the time to go and see them. Fi-
nally, a favorable opportunity came
for him to sell his property, for just
then land and all kinds of property
rose greatly in value. Having sold
all that he owned and received the
payment for it in gold, he was
greatly surprised to see that he was
worth so much.
He took passage again for Spain.
The voyage was pleasant, but the
nearer he came to his native land, the
more anxious he became as to whether
his parents were still living or not.
At last he reached Cadiz, and pro-
ceeded on his way toward Madrid.
Having got to Madrid, he started
out as rapidly as possible, taking all

his baggage and money with him, for
the little village which he had left
eighteen years before.
"Oh," said he, on his way, "how
changed everything is! I wonder if
my parents will be very different, like
everything else around me!"
All at once he heard the clock of
the village church strike ten-it was
ten o'clock at night. In no house that
he looked at did he see a light. Fi-
nally he came up to the house in which
he had been born. His heart beat in
anxiety; he was so excited that he
could scarcely wait to rap for admis-
sion. The door was locked; there
was not a sound to be heard, and it
seemed as if it was unoccupied. He
rapped louder again, and then he
heard a slight noise at the back part
of the house. He called out: "Wake
up! wake up! your son Carlos is

The old shoemaker and his wife had
long since gone to bed, and they were
alarmed at the noise.
"It is thieves!" they said. "Are
the doors and windows all secure?"
In the mean time, Carlos repeated
his knocks, but with a good deal more
violence than before.
"You cannot deceive me," said the
old man. "My son has been in South
America many years, if he has not
been dead long ago."
"He is not in South America, I tell
you; he has come back, and it is he
who is standing at the door, and wants
to see you and his mother."
The old lady then said in a low
voice: "Let us get up and see who
this fellow is. It cannot be possible
that it is Carlos, for we have never
heard of him since he left home."
Carlos was so impatient that he
could not wait. "Hurry, hurry!" he


said; "let me in! I have waited so
long already!"
Just then the old-fashioned door-bolt
was pulled back, and Carlos shoved
with so much violence that he came
near injuring both of his parents by
pushing the door against them. The
excitement was intense on both sides.
Carlos had found his parents living,
for which he could not be thankful
enough; and the parents, who had
long ago given up all expectation of
ever seeing him again, forgot every
trouble in their past life in the joy
they had in meeting their long-lost
It was three o'clock in the morning
before they stopped talking, when
Carlos went to bed in the same little
room that he had occupied when a
The next day was taken up in tell-
ing the experiences of the past eigh-


teen years. Carlos gave a long ac-
count of all the prosperity that he
had met with, and his parents told
their own history during the same
time-the changes that had taken
place in the village, who had died,
who had got married and how the
country had been getting along. Car-
los told his parents that they need not
work any more now, for he had enough
money for them to live on comfort-
Ie built them a very neat house
and supplied every want. He often
said to them: "It is you who have
been instruments in the hand of God
of all the prosperity that I have en-
joyed. There has scarcely been a day
that has passed during all the eigh-
teen years when I was away from you
that I did not feel supported by your
prayers. It was your example, your
advice and your prayers that led me


to form good resolutions; and when
away from home, it was the memory
of what you had done, and the confi-
dence that you were still praying for
me, that comforted and supported me
in my business."
The news had long passed through
the village, and, indeed, had been pub-
lished in many of the papers in Spain
that Carlos had returned, and that he
had prospered very much in his ab-
Now I must tell you what the in-
scription was that Carlos took care to
have cut on a beautiful marble slab
and placed over the door of the new
house in which he and his aged pa-
rents lived:
"The angel of the Lord encampeth
round about them that fear him, and
delivereth them."



T was the good old English custom
(not so generally adopted here as
it should be) in the pleasant village
of Waverly to have a May party on
the first day of that delightful month.
Weeks before, the long-anticipated
occasion so filled the minds and hearts
of the young folks that little else was
thought of. All the girls wondered
and all the boys debated who would
be Queen of the May.
As the time grew shorter and
shorter the excitement became more
intense; and no one thought more
about it than little Sarah Wilson.
The afternoon of the thirtieth of
April was bright and beautiful as any
one could desire. And when school
was over, Sarah ran out to overtake
Jenny Ray and Bessie Seaver, to have

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one last talk about to-morrow's festi-
val. They chatted, and laughed, and
speculated, and hoped; till all of a
sudden Sarah exclaimed, "I wonder
if I shall be Queen of the May ?"
"You Queen of the May!" laughed
Jenny. "I guess not; they'll be sure
to select one not quite so homely as
you are, Sarah."
"Yes," chimed in Bessie; "whoever
heard of a May Queen with a pug
nose and red hair?"
"Ha, ha!" shouted Tom Jackson,
as he ran by; "let's have old Mrs.
Dorkins, and done with it. She's a
Poor little Sarah! She didn't im-
agine herself very pretty, but neither
did she consider herself so exceed-
ingly different from other people.
And those harsh words cut like
knives through her tender little heart.
Her cheek flushed. The tears sprang

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