The Pearl Box

by Anonymous

  The dying mother could say no more; her breath grew short, andstretching out her arms, she cried, "My dear children, I must leave you:let me kiss you--God bless and keep--"

  Her arms fell from around them, the words died away on her lips, and herweary soul departed.

  After the funeral of this mother, the moon shone brightly into thedesolate chamber, and revealed a beautiful scene, that of a sister'slove.

  Anna sat near the window, and little Willy lay his weary head in herlap. They were now without father or mother. Sleep had stolen upon theweary eyes of Willy. Anna smoothed back the dark hair which hung overhis brow, then carefully raised his slender frame in her arms and laidhim upon his bed. Then seating herself beside him she thought of hermother's last request to take care of Willy.

  "Yes," she exclaimed, "I must begin to-morrow. I will go out and try toget some work, for poor Willy must remain at school. Dear boy," sheexclaimed, "I will never see him suffer." You will, in the next story,find

  ANNA SEEKING EMPLOYMENT.

  It was a wearisome day to poor Anna, as she walked from square tosquare, calling at the houses for employment. Some received her kindly,and patronised her themselves, and promised to interest their friendsin her behalf, while others, alleging that she could not earn as much asa woman, endeavored to beat her down a few shillings in her price. Butamong all, Anna found means of subsistence for many months. But soon herconstitution began to grow weak, and her friends thought it best forWilly to give up his school awhile, and to obtain some place as errandboy, and for Anna to pursue a more active life.

  Soon Anna found herself in a new home, doing the work of a family whichdevolved on her. She kept a diary, and she would often go away in herown little room, and scribble a few lines in her book. Here is anextract from her writings:--

  "To-day I am very tired, and yet but very little has been accomplished.I know I could do well enough if I was allowed to regulate my work, orif there was only order in the arrangement. There is certainly a greatwant of system in this family; I am never allowed to finish one piece ofwork before I am called off to another, and then blamed because I didnot do the first in time.

  "One wants me to put the dough in the pans, and before I get my handsclean, another calls me to go and get some wood; another tells me to goto the store for some thread; another cries out, Anna! Anna! and away Iam sent to the third story after a book. Do they think a girl like me isnever tired? Ah, me! I must seek another place. I love little children,and I think I should do for a child's nurse; I will advertise."

  And she did advertise, and it was not long before she was answered by arequest to call at Number 4, Elm street, at three o'clock on Wednesday.In the next story we shall find

  ANNA WITH A PLEASANT HOME.

  Anna, having obtained leave of her mistress, soon found herself at thedoor of Mrs. West. The servant girl came to the door, and Anna followedher into the sitting-room, where every thing was nicely arranged. Soon agentle looking lady came into the room, with a babe in her arms, andasked her, in a pleasant voice, "if she was the girl who advertised? Youlook hardly strong enough to handle such a boy as this," said she, asshe placed on her lap a plump, black-eyed little fellow of eight monthsold. "Let me see if you can lift him easily."

  Anna gave the little fellow a hug and a kiss, and then playfully tossedhim up a few times, but he was so heavy that she soon placed him on herknee, saying, "I am not used to holding children, but think I shall soonget accustomed to it." The lady agreed to have Anna come and enter uponher duties the next week.

  Weeks rolled away, and Anna's face looked joyous, for peace was in herheart. She loved her mistress because she was so thoughtful and wouldnot even let her carry the babe half so much as she wished, but wouldtell her to amuse him on the floor. Mrs. West would often bring her workand sit with Anna in the nursery, and talk with her about her mother andWilly. Oh, how Anna loved Mrs. West!

  Willy was now learning a trade with an honest carpenter, who gave himpermission to visit his sister once a week, and many happy hours didthey pass together in the nursery with the little pet Charley.

  As the summer months came on, Mrs. West prepared to visit her mother,who lived a few miles in the country. Anna went with her. Charley wasnow old enough to go into the woods and run about, while Anna gatheredflowers, chased butterflies, and amused him with infant stories. LittleCharley would often fall asleep to the sweet tones of Anna's voice, andthen she would take him up and bear him to the house.

  Three years passed away, and Charley needed no other nurse than hismother, and Anna's heart ached at the thought of leaving Mrs. West andlittle Charley. She had been so happy there that she dreaded to go outamong strangers to look for a new place.

  Mrs. West made arrangements for Anna to live with her parents, who in ashort time made her their adopted child. It was a beautiful countryhome, and she became as a dear child to Mr. and Mrs. Warren.

  THE GLOW WORM.

  On a summer's evening, about half an hour after bed time, as threelittle brothers lay talking together they heard a gentle footstep on thestairs. It was their sister Lucy. "Are you asleep," she asked.

  "No, we are not asleep," cried the boys.

  "I have brought something to show you," said Lucy, and going into thedarkest corner of the room, she opened her hand and the boys sawsomething sparkle like a diamond or a star.

  "What is it," cried little Frank, jumping out of bed and running tolook. Lucy held out her hand, but told him not to touch it.

  "Oh, it moves! It moves!" said he. "It must be something alive."

  "Ah!" said John, "it is a glow worm. I saw one last summer on a bank inSand Lee."

  "Take care," said Frank, "that it does not burn the counterpane." Thetwo elder brothers laughed; but Lucy reminded them that they would mostlikely have fallen into the same mistake, if they had not been taughtthat the glow worm's light, though it shines so brightly, does not burn.To convince Frank she told him to hold out his hand. The little boy feltafraid, but as he knew that Lucy never deceived him, he put out hishand, and soon, to his great delight, the harmless glow worm lay in hishand. Lucy promised to tell him something about the glow worm anothertime. Frank went back to his bed, and Lucy bid her brothers good night,promising to put the prize under a glass on the lawn.

  So night after night, for weeks, the three boys saw the twinkling lightof the glow worm on the dewy grass. One evening they began to quarrelabout it, and none but little Frank was willing to give up his claim toit. It grieved him to hear his brothers quarrelling and saying unkindwords to each other; and he also thought that the poor glow worm oughtnot to be kept a prisoner under the glass, instead of flying over thegreen turf or the mossy bank. But when he tried to bring John and Robertto the same opinion, they would not hear to him. So Lucy, who was a kindsister, when she found that the pleasure she had procured for them wasthe occasion of their naughty conduct, sat down by the window and toldthem to remember that God, who made the glow worm and caused its lightto shine, could see them in their chamber, and hear every sinful word.John and Robert felt the force of their sister's words, and settledtheir quarrel without delay, and they gave Frank permission to go earlyin the morning and let the imprisoned glow worm creep away.

  EMILY'S MORNING RAMBLE.

  In the suburbs of the city of B. stands the beautiful residence of Mr.James. It was a rural spot, as it was surrounded with all the beautiesof nature. There were rippling streams, and winding paths through thegreen fields and woods, sunny hills and mossy rocks. Emily, the onlydaughter of Mr. J., had all these pleasant scenes to enjoy, and everything to make her home happy. Her father owned a noble pair of grays anda very fine carriage, and she had the pleasure of riding with her fatherwhenever she chose. But Emily did not live altogether for her ownhappiness; she was accustomed to go and see the people in theneighborhood of her home, and if any were poor or sick she would alwaystry to benefit them.

  Her mother had to put up many a bundle of nice things for her to take tosome poor fa
mily in need. She was also fond of the works of nature, andwould frequently spend an hour in walking alone in the shady and ruralplaces in her town. One day, as the beautiful spring had just unfoldedits loveliness, Emily thought she would walk out and breathe thedelicious air. With a heart laden with good thoughts and with a quickstep she passed along the gravelled street and by the cultivated groundsand fine houses, until she reached the green turf and wooded slopes, andhere paused awhile under the large old trees, and thought of thewisdom, goodness, and love of God in giving us such a beautiful earth.

  On her route, where the river curved around the foot of a gentle slopinghill in the shadows of old forest trees, was made a rural cemetery; sopleasant were its quiet paths and its cool shades in summer, that theliving loved to wander there. Friends came there to plant flowers uponthe graves of dear ones they had lost.

  Through a low ivy covered gateway of stone, Emily entered the quietplace. There were no massive railings, and lofty monuments, and nocostly devices, but God had made this place very beautiful--flowers wereblooming along the well trodden paths, and around the last restingplaces of the dead. Here and there arose a simple shaft or a lightcolumn, and the graves of the household were bordered by a green hedgeor surrounded by shadowing trees.

  As Emily passed through the familiar walks, she came suddenly to agrave in the remote corner of the cemetery, beside which sat a solitarymourner. A small white slab lay upon the centre of the green mound andat its head grew a rose bush in bloom, bending, till its weight of whitebuds and blossoms touched the long bright grass upon the grave. Emilywas attracted by its simple beauty, and drawing near, she stooped downand read upon the marble slab, "Dear Mina." Her young eyes filledinstantly with tears, for she knew that it was the darling child of alady who to her was a stranger. As she turned away from the spot she meta lady approaching, who passed her and kneeled down beside the grave.She thought she would speak to the lady, and with tender sympathy sheasked, "Was it your child?"

  The lady, who was deep in thought, looked up at the sound of Emily'searnest voice, and answered, softly, "Yes; 'Dear Mina' was my onlychild." This interview led Emily to an acquaintance with the sorrowingmother, which caused her never to forget her morning ramble. She was agood woman, and at the decease of Emily's mother became her Christiancompanion and instructor.

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  I doubt whether he will find the way to heaven who desires to go therealone: all heavenly hearts are charitable: enlightened souls cannot butdiffuse their rays. I will, if I can, do something for others and forheaven; not to merit by it, but to express my gratitude. Though I cannotdo what I would, I will labor to do what I can.--_Feltham_.

  FLYING THE KITE.

  Flying the kite is a pleasant amusement for boys, and when we see thekites flying high in the air, we are always reminded of a kite whosehistory we heard when a little child, and which we give our readers.Shortly after the close of the Revolutionary war, there was a little boywhose parents had left their home and friends in England on account oftheir sympathy with the struggle of freedom for their rights in America.Their first home was in Norfolk, Va.

  This little boy was very much delighted with the American eagle, and hedetermined to make a kite as much like his favorite bird as he could. Hehad a friend who was a painter and gilder, and a person of greatingenuity. Together they contrived a beautiful kite, representing aneagle of gigantic size. It was painted and gilded in the most beautifulmanner, and a small but very brilliant lantern was attached to it justbelow the breast.

  They kept their secret very carefully, never suffering any one to enterthe room while it was making.

  On a dark, cloudy, windy night, the kite was flown. Its mechanism was soperfect that it sailed very beautifully. The lantern illuminated everypart, and it made a very brilliant appearance. Crowds of people throngedthe streets, wondering what the strange visitor was. Some were alarmed,and thought it was an omen of fearful events.

  Great was their admiration when they discovered that the wonderful birdwas the ingenious contrivance of a little boy; and they could scarcelybe convinced that what looked so much like a real bird was only aningenious combination of sticks and painted paper.

  THE HAPPY FAMILY.

  There are a great many novel sights in the streets of London, for thecheap entertainment of the people. The family circle of differentanimals and birds is an admirable illustration of the peace which shouldpervade among families. The proprietor of this novel menagerie calls it,"The Happy Family." The house in which they are kept is a simpleconstructed cage. It is a large square hen-coop, placed on a lowhand-cart, which a man draws about from one street to another, and getsa few pennys a day from those who stop to look at the domestic happinessof his family. Perhaps the first thing you will see, is a large cat,washing her face, with a number of large rats nestling around her, likekittens, whilst others are climbing up her back and playing with herwhiskers. In another corner of the room a dove and a hawk are setting onthe head of a dog which is resting across the neck of a rabbit. Thefloor is covered with the oddest social circles imaginable--weazles andGuinea pigs, and peeping chickens, are putting their noses together,caressingly. The perches above are covered with birds whose naturalantipathies have been subdued into mutual affection by the law ofkindness. The grave owl is sitting upright, and meditating in the sun,with a keen-sighted sparrow perched between his ears trying to open theeyes of the sleepy owl with its sharp bill.

  Children stop to look at this scene, and Mr. Burritt thinks they maycarry away lessons which will do them good. They will think on it ontheir way to school, and at home too, when any thing crosses their willin family or on the play ground.

  STORY ABOUT AN INDIAN.

  A poor sick man might go to the door of some rich person's house and askrelief for himself and not be able to obtain admittance; but if hebrought in his hand a paper written by the son of the master of thehouse, whom he had met with in a distant land, and in his name asked forthe relief, his request would be granted for the sake of the master'sson.

  Now we all need friends and every one tries to get and keep a fewfriends. Children will love a little dog, or a lamb, or a dove, or abird. The little boy will talk to his top, and the little girl will talkto her doll, which shows that they want a friend; and if the top and thedoll could talk and love them, they would feel happier.

  Some years ago there was an Indian in the State of Maine, who for hisvery good conduct had a large farm given him by the State. He built hislittle house on his land, and there lived. The white people about himdid not treat him so kindly as they ought. His only child was taken sickand died, and none of the whites went to comfort him, or to assist himin burying his little child. Soon after, he went to the white people,and said to them--"When white man's child die, Indian may be sorry--hehelp bury him--when my child die, no one speak to me--I make his gravealone. I can no live here, for I have no friend to love me."

  The poor Indian gave up his farm, dug up the body of his child, andcarried it with him 200 miles through the forest, to join the CanadaIndians.

  The Indian loved his child, and he wanted friends. So you children willneed a friend to look to every day. When we are sick, in distress, orabout to die, we want a friend in whom we may trust and be happy.

  * * * * *

  Wherefore did God create passions within us, pleasures round about us,but that these, rightly tempered, are the very ingredients ofvirtue.--_Milton_.

  GATHER THE FLOWERS.

  Two little girls went into the fields to gather flowers. Buttercups,violets, and many other blossoms were in abundance. One of the girls waspleased with every thing, and began to pick such flowers as came in herway. In a short time she collected a great quantity of flowers, andthough some of them were not very handsome, yet they made a verybeautiful bunch. The other child was more dainty and determined to gether none but those which were very beautiful. The buttercups were all ofone color and did not strike her
fancy--the blue violets were toocommon, and so the little pair wandered on through the fields till theywere about to return home. By this time the dainty child, seeing thather sister had a fine collection of flowers while she had none, beganto think it best to pick such as she could get. But now the flowers werescarce; not even a dandelion nor a flower was to be found. The littlegirl at length begged of her sister a single dandelion, and thus theyreturned home. The children told their story, and their mother addressedthem thus--"My dear children, let this event teach you a lesson. Janehas acted the wisest part. Content with such flowers as came in her way,and not aiming at what was beyond her reach, she has been successful inher pursuit. But Laura wanted something more beautiful than could befound, collected nothing from the field, and was finally obliged to bega simple flower from her sister. So it is, children, in passing throughlife--gather what is good and pleasant along your path, and you will,day by day, collect enough to make you contented and happy. But if youscorn those blessings which are common, and reach after those which aremore rare and difficult to be obtained, you will meet with frequentdifficulties, and at last be dependant on others. So gather the flowersas you go along the pathway of life."

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  Think not all is well within when all is well without; or that thybeing pleased is a sign that God is pleased: but suspect every thingthat is prosperous, unless it promotes piety, and charity, andhumility.--_Taylor_.