by Various
"I shall never be able to bear another day of this," she said toherself; "I thought it would be so delightful to have no duties, butsomehow my play does not seem half so good as it did before."
The next day brought no real pleasure and comfort. Listlessly Amywandered about, having no zest for any of her former amusements, andfeeling thoroughly unhappy. She began to long for the very duties whichhad seemed so irksome to her; she could hardly keep from tears when shesaw others busy over lessons, or her mother doing work which hadformerly been hers.
At last her misery ended in a fit of crying, and shutting herself up inher own room, she gave way to it. Sob followed sob so quickly that shedid not hear her door open, until her mother's arms were round her, andher hot, aching head was pillowed on her mother's shoulder. Not a wordpassed between them for a few minutes; then Amy sobbed out, "O mother!mother! the copy was quite right, 'Duty first, and pleasure afterward;'for without duty there is no pleasure at all."
"_Her mother's arms were around her_."]
"_Do tell us a story_."]
THE DANGEROUS DOOR
* * * * *
"Oh, cousin Will, do tell us a story! There's just time before theschool-bell rings." And Harry, Kate, Bob, and little Peace crowded abouttheir older cousin until he declared himself ready to do anything theywished.
"Very well," said Cousin Will. "I will tell you about some dangerousdoors I have seen."
"Oh, that's good!" exclaimed Bob. "Were they all iron and heavy bars?And if one passed in, did they shut and keep them there forever?"
"No; the doors I mean are pink or scarlet, and when they open you cansee a row of little servants standing all in white, and behind them is alittle lady dressed in crimson."
"What? That's splendid!" cried Kate. "I should like to go in myself."
"Ah! it is what comes out of these doors that makes them so dangerous.They need a strong guard on each side, or else there is great trouble."
"Why, what comes out?" said little Peace, with wondering eyes.
"When the guards are away," said Cousin Will, "I have known some thingsto come out sharper than arrows, and they make terrible wounds. Quitelately I saw two pretty little doors, and one opened and the little ladybegan to talk like this: 'What a stuck-up thing Lucy Waters is! And didyou see that horrid dress made out of her sister's old one?' 'Oh, yes,'said the other little crimson lady from the other door, 'and what aturned-up nose she has!' Then poor Lucy, who was around the corner, ranhome and cried all evening."
"I know what you mean," cried Kate, coloring.
"Were you listening?"
"Oh, you mean our mouths are doors!" exclaimed Harry, "and the crimsonlady is Miss Tongue; but who are the guards, and where do they comefrom?"
"You may ask the Great King. This is what you must say: 'Set a watch, OLord, before my mouth: keep the door of my lips.' Then He will sendPatience to stand on one side and Love on the other, and no unkind wordwill dare come out."
THE GOLDEN WINDOWS
* * * * *
"Oh dear!" exclaimed Ruth impatiently, as she put the library to rights."I do wish we could have a new carpet this spring. I never liked this atall, and now it is so faded and worn it is simply dreadful. It makes memiserable every time I look at it."
"Then, since you say you cannot very well have a new one just now, whydo you look at it?" asked Aunt Rachel, smiling. "There are a great manyunpleasant things in our lives--we find them every day--some of which weare unable to prevent. If we persist in thinking of them and keepfretting about them, we make ourselves and everybody about us miserable.
"It seems to me we might all learn a lesson from the bees. I have readthat when anything objectionable that they are unable to remove getsinto a hive, they set to work immediately to cover it all over withwax. They just shut it up in an airtight cell, and then forget all aboutit. Isn't that a wise way for us to manage with our vexations andtroubles?
"Someone sent me a postal the other day with this motto: 'The secret ofhappiness is not in doing what one likes, but in liking what one has todo.' It is not in having and doing just as we like, but in beingdetermined to make the best of the inevitable. When you find anunpleasant thing in your life that cannot be removed, learn to seal itup and forget it.
"And then I think that many times it helps to get a different view ofthings. You remember the fable of the golden windows, do you not? Alittle boy who had very few pretty things in his own home because hisparents were poor, used often to stand in his own doorway at sunset timeand look longingly at the big house at the top of the opposite hill.Such a wonderful house as it was! Its windows were all of gold, whichshone so bright that it often made his eyes blink to look at them. 'Ifonly our house was as beautiful,' he would say. 'I would not mindwearing patched clothes and having only bread and milk for supper.'
"One afternoon his father told him he might do just as he pleased, so hetrudged down the hill from his house and up the other long hill. He wasgoing to see the golden windows. But when he reached the top of theother hill he stopped in dismay; his lips began to quiver, his eyesfilled with tears. There were no golden windows there--nothing butplain, common windows like his own. 'I thought you had beautiful goldenwindows in your house,' he said to the little girl in the yard.
"_A lovely house with truly golden windows_."]
"'Oh, no!' she said; 'our windows aren't worth looking at, but standbeside me and you will see a lovely house with truly golden windows.See?' The little boy looked. 'Why, that is my house,' he said, 'and Inever knew we had golden windows!'
"You see, much depends on your point of view.
"I have lived to be an old woman, my dear, and I have come to feel thatthe most heroic lives are lived by those who put their own vexations andtroubles out of sight, and strive by every means in their power to easethe burden of the world; who leave always behind them the influence of abrave, cheery, loving spirit."
* * * * *
TRUST ALWAYS: NEVER FRET
Trust in the Lord, and do good; Dwell in the land, and follow after faithfulness: Delight thyself also in the Lord; And He shall give thee the desires of thine heart.
Commit thy way unto the Lord, Trust also in Him, And He shall bring it to pass. And He shall make thy righteousness to go forth as the light, And thy judgment as the noonday.
Rest in the Lord, And wait patiently for Him: Fret not thyself because of him who prospereth in his way, Because of the man who bringeth wicked devices to pass. Cease from, anger, and forsake wrath: Fret not thyself; it tendeth only to evil-doing.
PSALM 37:3-8.
_"The light of the sun does us no good unless we areliving in it!"_]
THE NEW LIFE
* * * * *
"The light of the sun does us no good unless we are living in it! Yes,that is just what the minister said," mused Tim, as he tossed hisSabbath-school paper upon the table, and gave himself up to the flow ofhis own thoughts. "Yes, he said just that, and more, too. He said thatthe life of Christ will do us little good unless we are living in it;that is, unless we are Christians, it makes little difference to uswhether Christ gave His life for us or not."
"What is on your mind, now?" It was Tim's sister Ada who asked thisquestion as she came running into the room upon her return from school.She had stopped on her way to gather violets, and that, you see, is whyshe had not reached home as soon as Tim.
"Oh, I was just thinking about what the minister said last Sabbath,that is all," replied the lad in a low voice.
"Oh, yes, what he said about people being 'born again' if they wouldlive the Christ life, and that reminds me that I must write his textdown in my text book. Let's see, it was last Christmas, wasn't it, whenMrs. Martin gave us those little books, and told us to write in them thetext of every sermon we heard preached; and I am glad to say that I havenot missed many Sabbaths since then."
"Neit
her have I," said Tim. "And do you know, I have been wonderingwhether Mrs. Martin will give her class any presents this Christmas."
"Oh, I don't know. I should think a teacher did her duty by teaching aSabbath-school class fifty-two times in a year, without spending hermoney on presents for us, even if we are but four. I think it would bemore appropriate for us to be giving her a present this year, than forus to be expecting one from her."
"And let's get up one for her," proposed Tim.
"And that means that we will," laughed Ada. "When you say, 'let's' inthat tone something is always sure to happen."
"But we don't want to have the whole say about the presents ourselves,"observed the boy, evidently pleased at his sister's compliment. "Markand Nettie haven't come by from school yet. When they do, we will callthem in, and see what can be done."
"All right, and let's watch for them."
The windows facing the road were immediately taken possession of, andit was not long before Ada and Tim were both rapping on the panes ofglass.
"What is it?" shouted Mark from the road.
"Come and see," replied Ada.
Mark and Nettie, a rosy-cheeked brother and sister, were soon in thelittle sitting-room, and Ada and Tim were laying before them their plansfor Christmas.
"It is just like this," said Ada; "I found Tim dreaming about Christmas,and I just suggested that we give Mrs. Martin a Christmas present thisyear. Now what do you think of it?"
"That would be just the thing," said Nettie.
"But what do you think she would want?" queried Mark.
"We can't tell, unless we ask her," replied Ada. "But have any of usever heard her say what she wanted?"
"I have," said Tim. "I have heard her say that what she wanted the mostof anything was to have her scholars come to Christ."
"But I mean something that we could give her."
"But if we should make up our minds to be Christians, it would make herpleased," said Tim, "and perhaps she'd rather be pleased in this waythan to have a present."
"I know that she would," said Nettie; "and I say, let's settle thequestion once for all."
The others looked in amazement at Nettie; they could scarcely understandwhat she meant. Her face was flushed, and she was trembling withemotion, but one thing was certain, and that was that Nettie was inearnest--also Tim; and whatever Tim wanted the others to do theygenerally did.
"You may as well tell us what you do mean," said Mark.
"_We might sign a paper_."]
"Why, just what I said," replied Tim. "I think it is about time that webegan to think some of being Christians--that is, if what the ministersays is true, and I suppose that it is, for everybody believeseverything else that he says, when he has anything to say in our houseand in the store."
"I should say as much," said Nettie.
"But what can be done about it?" queried Mark, in perplexity.
"We might all sign a paper, telling her what we intend to do, and giveit to her Christmas," proposed Tim.
"So we can," said Mark, "and let's do it at once."
So Tim went to the desk, and spent a few minutes writing something upona piece of paper. When he had finished, he turned around and asked;"Want to hear it?"
"Of course," answered Nettie.
So he read: "We four scholars of your class have made up our minds to beChristians, and we give you this information as your Christmasremembrance from us."
"Just the thing," said Ada.
"And I suppose that we must all sign it," suggested Nettie.
"Of course," answered Tim.
"But is this all that we must do to be Christians?" queried Mark.
"I should say not," answered Tim, "but if Mrs. Martin knows that we arein earnest, she will tell us what to do."
So the paper was signed by the four, after which Mark and Nettiecontinued on their way homeward.
On the Sabbath following Christmas, after the class had gathered, andwere waiting for Sabbath-school to begin in the little church on thehill, Tim passed to Mrs. Martin an envelope bearing her name. When sheopened it and read the note that was within, her eyes filled with tearsof joy.
"Oh, my precious class! My precious class!" This was all she could say,as she looked from one to another with face shining like an angel's.
"We thought that you'd tell us just what to do," began Ada. "We feltthat we needed help from you."
"And you shall have it this very hour. We will let the lesson goto-day, and just have a little meeting all to ourselves."
"That will be just beautiful!" exclaimed Nettie.
While the other classes in the church were discussing the lesson for theday, Mrs. Martin's class in the pew in the rear were settling the greatquestion of their lives.
Mrs. Martin began by telling them the story of the Christ--how Christleft His heavenly home, and came to earth to die for all men, since allare sinners; and how all may be saved from sin by being sorry for theirwrong-doing, deciding to lead a right life, and taking Him as theirpersonal Saviour. "Is this what you all believe?"
"It is," replied the class, softly.
Then all closed their eyes, and Mrs. Martin prayed softly for them,after which each prayed for pardon, and by the time Sabbath-school wasdismissed, all felt that Christ had accepted them as His very own.
"Oh, how I shall prize this little note," said Mrs. Martin, as they wereleaving the church for home. "You could not have given me a Christmasremembrance which would have meant more to me. And I am sure that I amnot the only one you have remembered this day--you have given yourselvesto Christ, who died and arose from the grave for you, and He willtreasure the Christmas gift you have given Him more than I can the oneyou have given me."
THE IMPOSSIBLE YESTERDAY
* * * * *
She was a tiny girl, playing by herself in a wide, grassy yard. Theolder children had gone to school, but she, too young for that, wasbusying herself with putting in order a playhouse in an arbor--arrangingit as nearly as possible as it had been the day before, when she and twoor three little mates had enjoyed such a merry time there. To and frotrudged the tireless feet, patiently the small hands worked, and at lastall was complete. Then the young worker looked about her, and slowly ashadow of disappointment crept over the face that had been so eager.Something was lacking. Everything was in the remembered order, but itdid not seem the same. She studied it for a minute or two, then walkedaway and sat down on a sunny doorstep. The mother found her there alittle later, a listless, quiet little figure.
"Are you tired of your playhouse already, dear?" she asked.
The childish eyes were uplifted with a look of wistful wonder in them,and the answer came slowly.
"I can't do it--I can't make yesterday over again."
_"I can't make yesterday over again."_]
It was the hopeless task that in one form or another we all undertake,and with which many darken their whole lives because they will not learnthat it is an impossible one. Yesterday's roses died with the day,yesterday's manna was only for yesterday's need, but there are newflowers and new food for to-day from the same gracious hand thatbestowed the other, if only we will go cheerfully and trustinglyforward. The treasures and pleasures we have had are for memory andthanksgiving, but the moment we sit down beside them to grieve or to tryto reconstruct them out of their ruins we have changed them from ablessing to a hindrance. We cannot make yesterday over again.
A CHILD'S PUZZLE
* * * * *
Meg had been playing in the garden all the morning, and when mama calledher in she had earth on her hands, and smuts on her face, and she lookedsuch a grubby little thing.
Mama smiled. "You have been having a good time, Meg," she said.
And she put a tin bason with some soap and warm water in it on achair where Meg could reach.
"Now, then, wash your hands and face, dear. Dada will soon be in fordinner."
But Meg pouted. "I don't want to
wash," she said. "I am not dirty."
Mama waited a little, but when she saw that Meg did not begin to wash,she said, quite gravely:
"You cannot sit at the table, as you are, dear. If you do not wash, thenyou must go without your dinner."
Meg stood a minute, then, as she saw that mama was quite firm, she puther hands into the water and began to wash and scrub them.
Lucy is older than Meg, and she had looked on all the time to see whatMeg would do. When Lucy saw her begin to wash and be good, shesaid:--
"Why is it, mama, that you and dada can do just as you like abouteverything, but we children have to do as you tell us all the time? Idon't think it is fair. I wish we could do as we like, too."
Mania did not speak for a moment. In her heart she said, "Lord help meto make this plain to my little girls."
"Did Meg have to wash?" she asked them.
"Yes," said Lucy. "If not, she would have to--"
"Bear the punishment," said mama. "You say, Lucy, that dada and I dojust what we choose, and that is quite true. But if we choose to dowrong, then we have to be punished too, and the punishment is far worsethan any that dada or I can give you, for it comes from God.
"Little children do not always know right from wrong, so in order tohelp them and make right easy, God gives them parents and teachers topraise them when they are good"--and here mama laid her hand on Meg'shead--"or else to punish them when they are naughty.
