THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE 
 
 LITTLE CROSS-BEARERS. 
 
 BY 
 
 CAROLINE CHESEBRO', 
 
 AUTHOR 07 "PKKA.MI.AND," "ISA, A PILGRIMAGE," ETO. 
 
 AUBURN: 
 DERBY & MILLER. 
 
 BUFFALO : 
 
 DERBY, ORTON & MULLIGAN. 
 
 CINCINNATI: HENRY w. DERBY. 
 
 1854.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hun- 
 dred and fifty-three, by 
 DEEBY AND MILLEE, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Northern District of 
 New-York,
 
 TO THE LITTLE ONES, 
 
 WHO COMB AT TIMES BEINGESO 
 
 MELODY AND SUNLIGHT INTO THE OLD HOME: 
 
 TO 
 
 THE CHILDREN 
 
 OF 
 MY BROTHEB AND MY 8I8TEB, 
 
 CANAHDAIGTIA, 1858. 
 
 622777
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 A STORY OF THE CROSS, 9 
 
 THE LITTLE STREET SINGERS, 37 
 
 THE PINK SHELL AND THE SEA WEED, 45 
 
 LITTLE ALICE'S PRAYER, ....... 68 
 
 THE TOWN PUMP, 79 
 
 THE FRAGRANT ARTIFICIALS, ...........96 
 
 THE BELL RINGERS, 108 
 
 THE ROBIN IN THE SWAMP, 128 
 
 THE GARDEN, 136 
 
 THE TRUMPET FLOWER, 148
 
 LITTLE CROSS BEARERS. 
 
 of f|t 
 
 IT had run down the clock had and 
 stopped. 
 
 Janet took the light with her when she went 
 from the room how still and dark it was there ! 
 dead stillness, and perfect darkness like that 
 of the grave. 
 
 While the clock ticked, and the light burned, 
 the wakeful Canary in the cage above the win- 
 dow hopped to and fro, and chirped occasion- 
 ally, and pecked at the bit of fish bone with 
 .which the wires were ornamented ; but now, in 
 the silence and gloom, the little creature was
 
 10 ASTOEY OF THE CROSS. 
 
 sleeping, with head bent under its wing, and if 
 it dreamed I wonder if birds do really dream ; 
 what do yon think about it ? the dream was 
 very pleasant I am sure, for what on earth was 
 there to trouble the heart of that bird ? 
 
 It led a happy life there in the beautiful cage. 
 But I would not have you imagine that the life 
 was happy because the cage was so fine. No 
 doubt the Canary was more comfortable than it 
 would have been, if the person who had charge 
 of it had not taken such care to make its little 
 home very neat and clean every day ; but birds, 
 you know, are not like those foolish people who 
 will not be glad, and happy, and songful, unless 
 all their idle, selfish wishes are gratified. 
 
 I remember a bird, dead now these five years ; 
 it was not a very pretty one, its wings were 
 brown instead of golden, and it lived in a poor 
 old pine cage but it had the sweetest notes 
 in the world, which it learned from our pastor's 
 linnet. 
 
 The pastor's bird had a fine large cage of rose-
 
 A STORY OF THE CKOSS. 11 
 
 wood, and there was a bathing tub and a swing 
 in it; the corner posts were mounted with 
 bright brass balls, and beautiful flowers were 
 painted on the cage ; but do you suppose that 
 the Canary in its old pine house, some of the 
 wires of which were broken and only mended 
 with bits of string do you suppose that our Ca- 
 nary was not just as happy as the high-bred 
 linnet was ? 
 
 All day long the bird that I began to tell 
 about sang in the parlor, but at night the cage 
 was taken into the nursery, and hung over the 
 window, as I said. It was the children's fancy, 
 that their pet should have a bed-chamber, as 
 well as themselves. 
 
 Fanny and 'Bel were both wide awake. Usu- 
 ally they were fast asleep before this time; but 
 Fanny took a thought to bed with her, and it 
 troubled her, and therefore she could not sleep. 
 And this thought she was sharing with little 
 'Bel. 
 
 Janet, the new nurse-girl, had told Fanny a
 
 12 A STORY OP THE CROSS. 
 
 sad story about a child whose lot in life was ex- 
 ceedingly hard and disagreeable, whose father 
 and mother died while she was very young 
 and after that she had no home of her own. So 
 she was obliged to go and live among strangers 
 now with one family, and then with another. 
 And some had abused her ; they had compelled 
 her to work far beyond her strength ; and they 
 cared no more for her, the nurse girl said, for it 
 was herself that she was telling about, than if 
 she had been a spinning jenny, instead of a 
 human Janet. 
 
 The girl cried when she told the story, and 
 Fanny cried, too, but when she saw that, the 
 girl said " Hush, child ! there's no nse ? Ev- 
 erybody has a CROSS to bear. I have mine 
 you'll have yours, you may be sure. Don't 
 cry." 
 
 This was the story that Fanny told to 'Bel, 
 instead of one of the fairy tales she had told on 
 other nights for her sister ; and 'Bel did not fall 
 asleep as she sometimes did when she was trying
 
 A STORY OF THE CROSS. 13 
 
 to listen. IsTo iior for a long time after Fanny 
 had stopped speaking. She felt so grieved for 
 Janet ! 
 
 And the little sisters said to each other, " We 
 will have mamma keep Janet always, and we 
 will be sure not to tease her ; we won't be cross, 
 or rude, and our home shall be her home. She 
 shall live with us always." 
 
 " And if she wants," said 'Bel, " she may have 
 our Canary to. sleep in her room, sometimes." 
 
 " Yes, to be sure," said Fanny, " but we 
 would n't do that for everybody." Yet, though 
 they became quite joyous, thinking of all that 
 they would do on the morrow, and all the days 
 after to-morrow, in order to make Janet happy, 
 and that she might feel sure that she really had 
 a home on earth, there was still another idea 
 that would come back and trouble Fanny. For 
 a long time she lay and thought upon it quietly, 
 but at last she whispered, " 'Bel ? " 
 
 'Bel was asleep, and made no reply. 
 
 Fanny was so bent on expressing what was in
 
 14: A STOKY OF THE CROSS. 
 
 her mind that she said again, and in quite a loud 
 whisper, 
 
 " 'Bel ! did Johnny say that he would take us 
 in his sleigh, to-morrow f " 
 
 " Yes," answered 'Bel ; but she was not yet 
 quite awake. 
 
 Fanny was going on to say, 
 
 " Are n't you glad we are going to school at 
 last?" 
 
 But just at that instant the moon came out 
 from behind a cloud, and its light streamed 
 through the window and fell upon the bed. And 
 Fanny was so startled and surprised by the sud- 
 den flowing in of light, that she forgot what she 
 had intended to say. 
 
 There was a rose tree, whose branches had 
 been trained upon the brick wall of the house. 
 Some of these branches were so trained that they 
 formed a very pretty shade for the window in 
 summer time. But now, it being winter, the 
 stems were all bare, and the moonlight falling 
 upon these, cast their shadows within the room,
 
 A STOKY OF THE CKOSS. 15 
 
 and Fanny, watching them, fancied that these 
 shadows fell upon the wall in the form of a 
 cross which they really did. 
 
 This Hemed all the more strange to Fanny, 
 because she had been thinking so much about 
 the cross, and when all at once the shadow dis- 
 appeared, and the room became very dark, she. 
 began to believe there was some odd witch-work 
 going on, and she was afraid, and hid her face 
 under the bed-clothes. But in a minute more, 
 ashamed of her fear, Fanny sat up in the bed 
 and looked out of the window. The moon 
 seemed to be just sailing out from beyond a 
 great cloud so that was all the magic there 
 was about it ! a cloud had passed between the 
 earth and the moon ! and Fanny laughed when 
 she thought what a trifle it was that had fright- 
 ened her so much. 
 
 It was now bright as day in the room. You 
 could have seen to read there without the least 
 difficulty. Fanny looked for the cross. There 
 it was on the wall its outline- was perfect.
 
 16 A STOKY OF THE CROSS. 
 
 Then her eyes glanced about the room. Luof 
 looked fiercer and handsomer than ever this 
 was a portrait of Uncle Henry's splendid New- 
 foundland dog, and Johnny had hun^fc np in 
 his sister's room, because the walls of his own 
 room were covered with pictures already. They 
 were all very fond of this portrait 'Bel thought 
 it a great deal better than it would be to have 
 the real living animal among them, for pictures 
 never bark and growl, though oftentimes they 
 look as if nothing would please them better, if 
 they only could contrive to find the voice ! 
 
 There, full in sight, was the little table with 
 the book-case, in which the girls kept their books 
 a nice lot they had ; there were fairy tales, 
 and books of poetry, and history, and travel, 
 very precious were all these ; and Fanny could 
 have told^you all their names if you had asked 
 her to do so ; still it was only for a moment that 
 she thought of them now. It was of THE CROSS 
 that she was thinking. On another table, just 
 under the window sill, was the toy house ; this,
 
 A STOKT OF THE CEOSS. IT 
 
 too, the little wakeful girl could see distinctly 
 when her eyes were directed that way, but it 
 was only for a moment that she thought of 'Bel's 
 doll, and its beautiful new dress. It was of the 
 cross that she was thinking. The cross ! The 
 cross ! 
 
 It was all about what Janet had told her that 
 she thought; -how Janet had said that every- 
 body had a cross of their own to bear. Now 
 was this true that the nurse girl said ? Why 
 must everybody bear a cross ? Must she, and 
 'Bel, and Johnny ? Eeally and truly ? Fanny 
 could not believe it. More especially when she 
 thought of 'Bel, who was so bright and pretty. 
 To bear a cross that must be dreadful. "What 
 did it mean ? What did it really mean ? That 
 was what she asked herself again and again. 
 Then she thought of Janet. Why, it m^ant to 
 lose father and mother, and to be very poor, and 
 then be compelled to go out into the world and 
 have no home to work for people ; and to sit, 
 and eat, and sleep, where the people chose to
 
 18 ASTOETOF THE OEOSS. 
 
 have them and to do whatever the people 
 told them to do. That was what it meant yes, 
 it must certainly mean that. Now would all 
 tliis happen to Johnny, and 'Bel, and herself? 
 !N~o, it could not be possible. Fanny did not 
 believe a word of it, what a wicked story it 
 was that Janet had told ! And yet, when Fan- 
 ny went to sleep, she was still wondering what 
 her cross would be. 
 
 She did not know, she could not guess even, 
 though before she closed her eyes, she was so 
 careful to place herself in that particular posi- 
 tion in which she always slept, because her spine 
 was diseased, and she was growing up in defor- 
 mity a crooked, sickly little girl. 
 
 II. 
 
 The next day, as it had been arranged, Fanny 
 and 'Bel went, for the first time, to the new 
 school ; and as he had promised to do, Johnny 
 carried them in his sleigh.
 
 A STOEY OF THE CEOSS. 19 
 
 With great impatience had the y. -looked for- 
 ward to the time when this school should be 
 opened. For it was to be taught by a lady 
 whom they knew very well, and loved very 
 much, and 'Bel said that she was the best story- 
 teller in the world ; but 'Bel was a very little 
 girl, and said a great many absurd things that 
 everybody laughed at. It is not probable that 
 she knew all about the thousand and one good 
 story-tellers there are in the world ! 
 
 It was a short and very happy day to 'Bel, 
 just such an one as she had anticipated. But 
 it was a long, dark day to Fanny the longest 
 and the darkest she had ever known. However, 
 it came to an end at last, and no one knew how 
 much she had been troubled by something she 
 had heard. 
 
 In the morning she was standing for a few 
 moments alone by the stove in the school room, 
 and at a little distance were two older and lar- 
 ger girls ; neither of them had she ever seen 
 before. One of these girls, looking at Fanny,
 
 20 A STOET OF THE CBOSS. 
 
 said in a whisper, but Eanny distinctly heard 
 her, 
 
 " Is she not pretty, Helen ? " 
 
 And the other made some reply that Fanny 
 could not hear. Then the first speaker said very 
 gently, 
 
 " What a pity ! but I should love her all the 
 more, I 'm sure. She looks so very patient." 
 
 Then in an instant it flashed across the little 
 girl's mind she knew why they pitied her; 
 also she knew why her mother had said, when 
 they all talked about the new school at 
 home 
 
 " My darling, I had rather you would not go 
 to school yet, for a year or two : but if you wish 
 so much to go, and papa thinks it best, why," 
 and Fanny remembered how seriously her 
 mother smiled when 'Bel climbed up on her 
 father's knee, and kissed him until he said, 
 " Yes, yes ! you shall both go to school yes, 
 certainly ! " 
 
 And yet, though so much was now explained
 
 A STORY OF THE CKO8S. 21 
 
 to Fanny, she could not have told even then 
 what was the cross that she must bear. 
 
 Night came again ; and again the young sis- 
 ters were lying side by side in the silence and 
 darkness of their pleasant chamber. In the si- 
 lence, I said, yet the clock was ticking loudly ; 
 and the Canary hopped -from one perch to an- 
 other, and from time to time pecked at the fish 
 bone but it did not chirp or sing and we do 
 not say that a ticking clock and a restless bird 
 break the silence, when we are very busy with 
 our thoughts, we have no hearing for such 
 things. And Fanny and 'Bel were very busy 
 thinking. Presently 'Bel said, 
 
 " It 's the very pleasantest day I ever spent 
 in all my life. I hope we shall go to school 
 to Miss Lansing always ! do' nt you, Fan- 
 ny ? Aiid if you '11 only just tell me that story 
 about THE WITCH IN THE WELL, I '11 go to sleep 
 in a minute." 
 
 And so Fanny told the story it was the 
 prettiest of all she knew. And, to be sure, 'Bel
 
 22 A STOKY OF THE CEOS8. 
 
 was asleep before it was half through; she 
 knew nothing about the ache that was in Fan- 
 ny's heart. 
 
 The moon shone bright and clear again that 
 night brighter and clearer than it did the last 
 nighty and if there was any difference, it was 
 that the " shadow of the cross " on the wall was 
 more distinct to Fanny's eyes than it had been 
 the night before. 
 
 When she raised herself in the bed, and look- 
 ed at little 'Bel as she slept so quietly, Fanny 
 thought to herself " I shall never sleep in that 
 way again," and indeed she began to wonder 
 within herself, if it was likely that she should 
 ever sleep at all again. But even while she 
 wondered thus, it was as much as she could do 
 to keep her eyes open ; and the tears which 
 for a few moments flowed so hot and fast down 
 her cheeks, ceased to gather in her eyes ; and 
 presently she slumbered as peacefully and hap- 
 pily, even as little 'Bel, and the last thing she 
 thought about while awake was the verse of the
 
 A STOEY OF THE CROSS. 23 
 
 Psalm her father read that night " He giveth 
 his beloved in their sleep." But though she 
 remembered the verse, she did not know half 
 its beautiful, deep meaning. I wonder if you 
 know it, who are reading at this very minute 
 about Fanny Ray ? 
 
 But what happened to her in her sleep that 
 night, was the strangest of all. I must tell you 
 about FANNY'S DKEAM. 
 
 She was with 'Bel at school. And first she 
 heard a trumpet sound. It was ten thousand 
 times louder than the tiny, tinkling brass bell 
 Miss Lansing rung in the school-room. Louder 
 than the clock in the court house, that told all 
 the villagers of every new hour as it came. 
 Louder even than the great bell in the church 
 belfrey, which people could hear off in the 
 country, three miles away, on a Sunday. And 
 a more powerful sound than that, either from 
 trumpet or bell, Fanny had never thought 
 there could be. It was a mighty, yet a sweet 
 sound ; and the dreamer thought, Surely nobody
 
 24: A STORY OF THE CROSS. 
 
 in all the world can help hearing the sound of 
 that trumpet, and she said to herself beside, 
 It is a great wonder if the dead do not hear it, 
 for the echo seems to 'fill all the air, and to shake 
 the earth. 
 
 She was in the school-room when the great 
 trumpet sounded. And immediately when they 
 heard it, as with one impulse, the teacher and 
 all the children arose, and went out in silence, 
 looking at each other, and wondering what that 
 blast of the trumpet should mean. And Fanny 
 and 'Bel went hand in hand at first. And the 
 teacher said, by a look, for Fanny heard no 
 sound of a voice, "Be cautious there's no 
 need of such haste." 
 
 Some of the scholars there were that seemed 
 neither to hear the trumpet, nor to notice what 
 the teacher said with her eyes, after they were 
 once outside the school-room door. But they 
 began noisily to chase about, and play with each 
 other in the yard in the midst of which the 
 school-house stood. For it was summer, and
 
 A STOKY OF THE CROSS. 25 
 
 not winter, in Fanny's dream ; and she saw, as 
 plain as any one ever saw with eyes wide open, 
 how the grass in the fields was beautiful and 
 green and that the brook was dancing along as 
 merrily as could be and that the dandelions 
 shone "like stars in the grass" and the or- 
 chard trees were all covered over with blos- 
 soms ; so of course it was summer in her dream. 
 But there were many of the scholars who fol- 
 lowed on after the teacher. Not, however, be- 
 cause she led them, for she did .not. She also 
 seemed guided, just as they were, by something 
 they could neither see nor hear for it certainly 
 was not the trumpet sound that made them all. 
 move in the direction they did. As I said before, 
 the trumpet seemed to fill the whole world with 
 sound, and none could tell if it came from east, 
 west, north, or south and it was no more to 
 be seen than is the wind. And as to the wind, 
 you know that no man can see that, or tell 
 whence it cometh and whither it goeth, as our 
 Saviour said when he was on the earth. 
 B
 
 26 A STORY OF THE CEOSS. 
 
 And the teacher and the children went on to- 
 gether rapidly, but without noise or confusion, 
 until they came to the foot of a great hill ; up- 
 on that hill no grass grew, no trees were there ; 
 and in many places the rock was quite bare, 
 and stood out from the yellow earth in sharp 
 points. It was a wild, rugged height. "Would 
 they climb it ? Could they if they tried ? Also 
 no sunlight fell upon this hill but a dark, sol- 
 emn shade spread over it ; only when the teach- 
 er and the children looked up to the very top of 
 it, could they see that the sun was shining there- 
 on r and oh ! how Fanny Ray's heart beat when 
 she saw upon that summit the great cross it 
 was like a crown to the hill and the sunshine 
 fell so brightly over it as to make her eyes fill 
 with tears when she looked thereon. She sha- 
 ded her eyes with her hand, and began to think. 
 Must not all this mystery have some deep, 
 beautiful meaning ? And she said to herself, 
 " Surely, 'Bel and I will learn Tiere what our 
 cross is." And as she said it, Fanny perceived
 
 A STORY OFTHE CKOSS. 27 
 
 for the first time, that 'Bel was not with her 
 they had been separated in the crowd. 
 
 At any other time Fanny would have felt 
 greatly alarmed, both for 'Bel and for herself, 
 separated and alone thus in a crowd. For a great 
 number of people were now gathering together, 
 not one of whom had she ever seen before. But 
 now she was not in the least afraid, for all the 
 people were looking up at the cross, just as she 
 herself was doing. 
 
 While she stood and gazed with all the rest, 
 Fanny heard suddenly a voice, that was not 
 like any voice she had ever heard before, calling 
 to her. It seemed to come from the cross on 
 the hill-top ; and then she distinctly saw a Hand. 
 It beckoned to her from that cross ! For an in- 
 stant Fanny was in doubt and bewilderment. 
 Had she really heard THAT YOICE ? had she tru- 
 ly seen THAT HAND ? or was it all only a fancy ? 
 While she asked herself these questions the lit- 
 tie girl looked around her, afraid to speak or 
 move, she felt very faint, and dizzy beside ;
 
 28 A STOEY OF THE CBO8S. 
 
 and would have fallen, but for a Hand that up- 
 held her. And yet, when she turned herself, 
 quickly, that she might see who it was that sup- 
 ported her, she perceived that she was standing 
 apart from all the crowd, alone by herself 
 and then, what was still more strange, she saw 
 that, without knowing what she did, she had be- 
 gun to climb the hill. 
 
 She was ascending towards the cross. But 
 now the hill seemed to have grown into a moun- 
 tain and further off than ever stood that 
 cross, and the way was -even more difficult and 
 rugged than it had appeared to be. And, poor 
 Fanny ! she was very faint and weak, and half 
 the time when she looked up she could see no 
 cross at all, it was even gloomier and darker 
 around the place where it had stood, (and where, 
 though she could not see it, she believed it was 
 still standing,) than along the path through 
 which she went. 
 
 If only little 'Bel were with her ! or if any 
 one were with her ; if a bird would only sing,
 
 A STOEY OF THE K O 8 S . 29 
 
 and break the silence ! or if she could see any 
 flowers growing by the way or if the sun 
 would only shine ! and in her dream, and with 
 her own voice, Fanny called aloud, " Oh 'Bel, 
 come with me ! " But 'Bel slept on, and Fanny 
 slept on; and in the dream went up the hill 
 alone, still alone. 
 
 At last, after long toiling, she was fairly ar- 
 rived at what seemed to her the summit of the 
 mountain. And all was dark there. The weary 
 child sat down upon the rock against which her 
 foot had stumbled ; she was afraid to go farther ; 
 no voice was calling her now, no haad was 
 leading, there was no sunlight up there where 
 she had thought to find it. 
 
 She looked back upon the long way by which 
 she had come. Oh, how beautiful ! There, at 
 the foot of the mountain, lay the village, and 
 the meadows, and the gardens ; and over them 
 all was the sunlight bright and warm! She 
 could see the dandelions in the grass the brook 
 dancing on its way through the fields and the
 
 30 ASTORY OF THE CROSS. 
 
 wood the old school-bouse the church, and 
 yes, there it was ! how distinctly she could see 
 it from the high mountain in the dream ! her 
 own father's house. The rose-tree that was 
 trained over the nursery window was in full 
 bloom, and the Canary's cage was hung in the 
 window, and the bird, Fanny knew, was talking 
 to the roses. But what he said to them, that 
 Fanny could not hear, because she was listening 
 again to the sound of the trumpet, which seemed 
 to fill heaven and earth with its grand, solemn 
 melody. And while she listened she bent her 
 head upon her hand, and forgot the lovely scene 
 upon which she had been looking, forgot even 
 the wish she had just felt, that she might go 
 back to the dear village, and remain there. 
 
 For the trumpet seemed to be saying some- 
 thing to her. What was it ? That was more 
 than Fanny for a long time could tell. Though, 
 while she listened she could but say to herself, 
 "If I wait, and am patient, and try to under- 
 stand it, I shall surely be able very soon." And
 
 A STORY OF THE OK OSS. 31 
 
 true enough, it was presently with her the same 
 as if she had been deaf, and a physician had 
 made her to hear or, as if she had taken up a 
 book, written in some foreign language, and 
 without study found that she could read it for 
 the voice of the trumpet was really a Yoice, and 
 it said to her, 
 
 " Arise, and go thy way thy cross is wait- 
 ing for thee." 
 
 So she should have it at last ! "What Janet 
 had said was true after all ! It was true that 
 she had been led up that mountain ; and some 
 one she could not see was still watching over her 
 and caring for her! She was not after all a 
 foolish, lost girl, that had wandered away from 
 home to die up there alone, in the wild, dark 
 place ! And in her dream poor Fanny re- 
 joiced. 
 
 "When she again arose she cast another look 
 down the mountain, before she began to ascend 
 - further. And lo ! the hill was now nearly cov- 
 ered with persons who had set out for the sum-
 
 32 A STORY OP THE CEO8S. 
 
 mit, even as she had done ; and there, toilin^ 
 among the rest, was the darling little 'Bel ! 
 
 Then Fanny said to herself for now she felt 
 very happy and courageous " I will wait here 
 for 'Bel " and then the next minute she thought 
 " No, I will go and meet her, and help her 
 along poor 'Bel, she will be so weary, " but 
 before she could take a single step down the 
 hill, the Yoice said, 
 
 " Go up ! Go up 1 " very sternly and with a 
 mighty emphasis it was said and Fanny dared 
 not linger any longer. 
 
 Fear drove her on at first, but soon the fear 
 passed away, and in her desire to reach the end 
 of her journey the little girl's curiosity, about 
 those who were coming after her, disappeared. 
 
 And at last the mountain top was really 
 reached. Then Fanny thought, in her dream, 
 that she should die ; her strength went from her, 
 she fell upon the ground, yet she felt no 
 fear now she was at peace. 
 
 But she did not fall asleep in her dream the
 
 A STORY OF THE GROSS. 33 
 
 dream did not end here for now upon the mild 
 air rose the sound of a Yoice that was not like 
 the voice of the trumpet, nor like her mother's 
 voice, nor like any that she had ever heard in 
 all her life before, for it was sweeter and ten- 
 derer, and also more powerful it said to her, 
 "MY CHILD!" 
 
 And Fanny was lifted from the ground in her 
 dream, and when she raised her eyes she per- 
 ceived that see was leaning against the great 
 cross, and the Hand that had beckoned to her to 
 come from the crowd, was reaching down from 
 it, and the Hand rested on her head, as if it 
 would bless her even her, poor Fanny Ray. 
 
 Surely a blessing had now been pronounced 
 upon her yes, of that Fanny was quite certain, 
 when she felt the tender pressure of the Hand 
 upon her head ; and in her dream, Fanny was 
 so happy that her heart sang for joy. Then she 
 remembered little 'Bel, and turned her eyes 
 again to the mountain path, that she might see 
 what had become of her. And there was the 
 B* 8
 
 34 A STORY OF THE CROSS. 
 
 child, still coming on, yet staying sometimes by 
 the way, and turning to look back, as she her- 
 self had done ! Fanny trembled when she saw 
 this wavering and weariness, lest the little one 
 should be tempted to return to the paths and 
 the meadows which looked so very pleasant from 
 every place, except from that place last gained, 
 where Fanny now stood beneath the cross of 
 the Saviour. 
 
 But even while she feared, Fanny leaned with 
 yet more and more reliance upon that sure sup- 
 port, and when her heart was most like to cry out 
 in its fear for 'Bel, she still looked upon the cross, 
 and the cry was changed to a prayer and this 
 was the prayer ; that the Voice that had called, 
 and the Hand that had saved her, would do the 
 same for the little lonely pilgrim. Yet, even 
 when she made this prayer, Fanny ended it with, 
 " Thy will le done" because she felt that the 
 Deliverer would be sure to do all things right 
 and well. 
 
 And now, again the Voice was speaking from
 
 ASTOBY OF THE CEOSS. 35 
 
 on high and it said "The cross that I gave 
 thee to bear, my child, wilt thou not crucify on 
 it all thy pride and selfishness, and be glad to 
 bear it because I gave it to thee ? " 
 
 And all Fanny Ray's heart seemed to leap up 
 in the answer she made : " Yea, Lord, I thank 
 thee I thank thee for the cross ! " 
 
 The sound of her own voice, so earnest and so 
 loud, wakened the little girl. 
 
 The sun was shining the Canary singing 
 tick, tick, went the clock there stood Janet by 
 the bed-side, come to waken them the dream 
 was all over a strange, beautiful dream, but 
 it had ended so provokingly, thought Fanny, 
 she had neither seen in it whether 'Bel really 
 reached the top of the mountain, nor learned 
 what cross either of them was to bear ! That 
 was the worst of all for she was sure that if 
 the dream had been dreamed through, no mat- 
 . ter what the end of it had been, she would have 
 felt strong enough to endure anything that was
 
 36 A STOEY OF THE OEO8S. 
 
 offered to her as her cross. But the dream was 
 over, and there was no help for it. 
 
 Not that day was any explanation given to 
 the dream ; and many a day, and many a year, 
 passed by before it was all made plain to Fanny 
 Ray ; but there came a time at last when she 
 understood it all. She had strength then to bear 
 the knowledge and she had grace also grace 
 to thank God for that strength, and to say to 
 Him, " Thy will be done, O Lord, my strength 
 and my Redeemer ! " Her face was pale with 
 sickness, and her poor body bent with pain in 
 those years, but she was happy and at peace, as 
 all must be, no matter what their suffering and 
 sorrow, if they trust in the good Lord always. 
 Pale she was, and crippled, but everybody 
 loved her and that our Father in heaven also 
 loved her, we all knew. How did we know it ? 
 Are you asking that, my little friend ? Ponder 
 it in your heart and then you will understand it 
 all, better, oh, far better than I know how to tell.
 
 title jitmt 
 
 rFHE boy carried a hand-organ ; it was much 
 A too heavy for his strength. One thought his 
 back would surely be broken every time he at- 
 tempted to lift it. 
 
 The girl had a tambourine and the two played 
 together and sang " Home ! sweet Home." But 
 they had n't a home anywhere on the face of the 
 wide earth. 
 
 A crowd collected around them and after 
 the children had sung their best pieces, the girl 
 went around with the tambourne in hei- hand, 
 passing from one person to another, and who- 
 ever chose to do so dropped in some money. 
 There was one boy who put in five-pence, and 
 took ten-pence out in change ! I saw him do 
 it from my window. Much good may the cheat 
 do him the fellow !
 
 38 THE LITTLE BTEEET SINGERS. 
 
 But the girl did n't notice him. She seemed 
 hardly to notice at all whether those to whom 
 she offered the contribution box gave her any- 
 thing or not for she was very tired, and her 
 head ached, and she would have given all she 
 had in the world to have crept into some shed, 
 and lain down there for a little sleep ; her feet 
 were so sore, and her head ached so dreadfully. 
 
 She said in the morning to Thomas, "I am 
 very tired and sick ; oh, do let me stay in with 
 you to-day." 
 
 Thomas was the man who traveled with Jack 
 and Nanny, though he was not their father, nor 
 brother ; and often the children wondered how 
 they ever happened to fall into the hands of so 
 wicked a person. 
 
 But though when he looked at Nanny he must 
 have known that she was speaking the truth 
 that she was really very tired and sick the 
 man only laughed at her, and called her a little 
 fool, and said she was saying what she knew was 
 a wicked lie. So he sent them out in the rain,
 
 THE LITTLE STREET SINGERS. 39 
 
 and the monkey was dressed in its old clothes, 
 for the rain would have spoiled his new suit ^ 
 but there was no danger that the rain would 
 spoil the old rags which the children wore. 
 
 He sent them out, and they wandered about 
 the streets all day but late in the afternoon 
 Nanny said, 
 
 " Jack, if Thomas kills me for it, I must lie 
 down I believe I shall die." 
 
 The boy looked at his sister, her pale face 
 frightened him, where could they go ? What 
 should they do ? They were full a mile from 
 the house where Thomas stopped, and how could 
 they ever walk back ? Even while they were 
 considering what they should do, Nanny was 
 obliged to sit upon some shop steps to rest so 
 it was out the question that they should attempt 
 to return to the inn, until she had taken some 
 rest. 
 
 Further down the street, at a short distance 
 from them, Jack saw a stable, and the door was 
 open. "Without saying a word, he left Nanny,
 
 40 THE LITTLE STREET SINGERS. 
 
 and ran down to see if it was occupied. To his 
 great joy he found the doors wide open, nobody 
 there, and the manger filled with nice fresh 
 straw. 
 
 Jack was not a strong boy, and he was very 
 weary with carrying the organ all day, and walk- 
 ing about so far, but his strength seemed to come 
 back to him when he returned and looked at 
 Nanny, where she sat on the door step, so faint 
 and pale. Taking his organ, which he had left 
 beside her, upon his back, he more than half 
 carried her down the street to the stable then 
 he climbed up into the manger, and drew her 
 after him. And all the poor, sick child could 
 say was, " Oh, Jack ! how good you are don't 
 let's ever go back to Thomas." 
 
 And the boy said kindly, " I '11 make it all 
 right don't worry take a good sleep, and 
 I '11 keep watch here." 
 
 And Jack sat up there in the manger beside 
 his sister, and the monkey sat on the hand or- 
 gan, and Nanny's tambourine lay on the floor be-
 
 THE LITTLE STREET SIKGEE8. 41 
 
 side it, and it was as still in the stable as if 
 there had n't been a creature in it. 
 
 Jack sat there with his eyes half closed, but 
 he was wide awake he had so many things on 
 his mind, how could he think of sleeping ? 
 
 A fine scolding they would get when they 
 went back to Thomas that was very certain ; 
 but who cared ? What if he gave them a beat- 
 ing? even that would' nt kill them it was 
 what they often had to bear. Yet, no ! If 
 Thomas attempted to beat Nanny now, he 
 would meet with some opposition. As for him- 
 self, Jack had no fear; he rather liked the 
 thought of living with the man until he migkt 
 some day find an opportunity for punishing their 
 tyrant in a suitable way. It would, besides, be 
 very stupid in them to attempt to fly from him ; 
 for Thomas knew everything, and would be 
 sure to find them again, and then Jack trem- 
 bled to think of such a flight, and such a 
 capture 1 
 
 As to Nanny the moment she lay down there
 
 4:2 THE LITTLE STREET 8INGEE3. 
 
 in the manger her eyes closed she fell into a 
 heavy sleep. And so anxious was Jack that she 
 should have a good rest, that though it began to 
 get dark in the stable, he was very careful to 
 make no noise, lest he should waken her. 
 
 But at last Nanny stirred she was awaking 
 she whispered, "Jack?" 
 
 " Here I am," he answered. 
 
 " Is that Thomas I hear " 
 
 " No it is nothing." 
 
 "Isn't it? Oh Jack! I've seen the most 
 beautiful sight ! " 
 
 " "What was it ? " said Jack. 
 
 " Come closer are you there ? I can't see 
 you." 
 
 " No wonder, for it 's as dark as pitch here. 
 But I '11 tell you what we'll do wait till we 
 get started, for we had better be off; and then 
 I '11 have you tell all about it. Come ! you have 
 had such a nice rest. How is your head ? " 
 
 Nanny never disputed with Jack. He always 
 had things in his own way, so far as she was
 
 THE LITTLE STKEET SINGERS. 43 
 
 concerned, for lie was always contriving things 
 to say and do for her that would make her hap- 
 pier, and more comfortable. So she lifted her 
 head, and tried to rise, as he bade her, but she 
 could not do it. Jack did not observe the effort 
 she was making ; he was busy getting his organ 
 strapped upon his back. 
 
 " I '11 tell you what it was that I dreamed 
 here ; I 'd rather tell it now, before I forget it, 
 my head feels so badly. It was all about a 
 beautiful home that I went to " 
 
 " But," said Jack, interrupting her, " I hear 
 them coming. They are leading a horse, and 
 there 's a man with a lantern. Slip down, and 
 don't make a noise. I guess we can creep out 
 without their seeing ; come ! " 
 
 Nanny made no noise, but neither did she oth- 
 erwise obey him ; and when in a moment more 
 the man came in with the horse, he found a little 
 dead child lying in the manger. ]STanriy had 
 gone away to the beautiful home sooner than 
 Jack could think !
 
 44 THE LITTLE STREET SINGEBS. 
 
 And there stood the poor fellow, with the or- 
 gan on his back, and the monkey perched upon 
 the top of it, and under Jack's arm was Nanny's 
 tambourine. He was ready to go on his journey, 
 but her journey was at an end she would 
 never sing " Home ! sweet Home ! " with him 
 again, either in rain-storm or sunshine. Happy 
 Nanny ; the golden doors of the Father's house 
 had opened for the weary little child, and nev- 
 er more would she live in fear of Thomas ; nev- 
 er more would she go hungry, and cold, and sad, 
 for now she was with the angels, and safe from 
 all sorrow in the smile of God.
 
 fiith ^ Jill anfo i\t 
 
 THEEE they lay on the beach together the 
 same sandy bed beneath them the same 
 sun shining down upon them ; and they both 
 had come up from the same great ocean cave. 
 
 Yet' they were not at all alike, as one with 
 only half an eye could not help seeing. And, 
 as to their ideas of things, and their own partic- 
 ular feelings, it was a fact that they were not in 
 the least bit alike in these. Excepting in this 
 one thing they were both exceedingly desirous 
 of changing their place of residence j and it was 
 this wish that was granted them for they had 
 lived in the sea, and now were to live on the 
 land, which certainly was a great change for 
 both of them. 
 
 The Pink Shell was marvellously pretty, and 
 she knew it. And there was nothing strange
 
 44) PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 
 
 about that; but then, do you think the Shell 
 showed her wisdom in being so very vain and 
 proud about it? Why, only think of it, she 
 did not make herself, she lay upon the beach 
 just as she was thrown up out of the deep, deep 
 sea ; and for all that she had to do with it, she 
 might just as well have been a clam-shell, as that 
 beautiful pink thing which the, Sea Weed look- 
 ed at with so much admiration. And therefore 
 I say that if it was not a sin, it was at least a 
 great shame, for the Shell to be so vain of her 
 beauty, 
 
 They had been thrown by the same wave up- 
 on the sea beach the SHELL and the WEED 
 and the Shell, much to her horror, lodged in the 
 very midst of the Weed ! Oh how she sighed 
 for some lucky gale of fortune that would set 
 her clear of the loathsome heap. Loathsome ! 
 yes, that was the very word she used in her 
 complaint. 
 
 The Sea Weed was not naturally jealous or 
 suspicious. She could admire the beauty of the
 
 PINK SHELL AND "SEA WEED. 47 
 
 Shell, and not feel in the least annoyed that she 
 herself had but little loveliness to boast of 
 that she was, in fact, what some plain spoken 
 people would call ugly. But nobody, however 
 homely and humble, likes to be called loath- 
 some. And the remark did not sound well, 
 coming from the Shell, even if it could be ima- 
 gined that the Weed was not in the least sensi- 
 tive, and had no feeling whatever. 
 
 The Weed could not well help it, she asked 
 rather timidly, yet with perfect distinctness 
 
 " Did you say loathsome ? " 
 
 " Disgustful ! " exclaimed the Shell, looking 
 in every direction except at the Weed that hap- 
 pened to be beneath her. 
 
 "You said disgustful," repeated the Weed, 
 not so timidly as before, but still quite meek in 
 her manner and voice " are you speaking of 
 me?" 
 
 " Insolence ! " was all the reply. 
 
 The Sea Weed sighed, and for a long time 
 thought the matter over quietly to herself ; final-
 
 4:8 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 
 
 ly the Shell's mutterings excited a little anger in 
 her, and she said, 
 
 " It seems to me that if you are so mightily 
 uncomfortable, Miss Shell, the best thing you 
 can do is to move into another neighborhood. 
 It is n't very pleasant to bear your burden, and 
 be compelled to listen to your insulting remarks. 
 You think yourself very fine and beautiful 
 I think so too but for all that, your behavior 
 is neither pretty nor agreeable." 
 
 " You are such a fright ! " exclaimed Miss 
 Shell, in a rage. 
 
 " Well, and what of that," returned the Weed, 
 very coolly, " I am as I was made, and it' s 
 nothing to you whether I 'm handsome or ugly. 
 You are at perfect liberty to remove yourself to 
 a place where I shall be out of your sight. 
 And to speak the plain truth, I heartily wish 
 you would do so." 
 
 " Whoever heard the like ? " exclaimed the 
 Shell. 
 
 " I never did, for one," answered the Weed,
 
 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 49 
 
 " but the fault is all your own. If you take to 
 calling names, you may as well expect to have 
 an answer." 
 
 Just then a man went by op the lonely sea 
 beach he was speaking aloud, and the heaven, 
 and the earth, and the ocean, the Sea Weed and 
 the Shell, heard what he said : "Speech is great, 
 but silence is greater." 
 
 And the Sea Weed thought to herself, That 
 is a wiser and a better saying than the one I 
 thought so good it is n't worth while to an- 
 swer a fool according to his folly, after all 
 and I won't say another word to the Shell, 
 no matter how she provokes me. 
 
 And the Sea Weed held to her resolution ; 
 wishing, in the meantime, as heartily as the Pink 
 Shell could, for the lucky gale of fortune that 
 should separate them; for though she could 
 keep silent herself, it was not so very agreeable 
 to be compelled to hear Miss ShelPs continual 
 complaining. For of her complaining there 
 really was no end it seemed to be the only 
 
 c 4
 
 50 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 
 
 thing of which the proud Sea Shell was capable. 
 She had no idea that it was possible for her to 
 make any use of this trial of her patience it 
 was only groan, groan, groan ; grumble, grum- 
 ble, grumble; wish, wish, wish, from morn- 
 ing till night. 
 
 "Well, that lucky gale of fortune did come at 
 last, though in a way that rather mortified 
 Miss Shell ; for it was not at all on her account 
 that the people walking along the beach ex- 
 claimed so joyfully, as if they had found a great 
 prize, when they saw the Sea "Weed. It was 
 not on her account that they placed the Sea 
 "Weed in a basket, and carried it far away to a 
 place where the roar of the ocean waves was 
 never heard. No for they did not see the 
 Shell at all. 
 
 You think, then, that she was left upon the 
 beach alone that she slipped through the mass 
 of "Weed, and was left there all by herself. 
 That was not the way it happened. 
 
 For, in the first place, instead of rejoicing in
 
 PIIT'E SHELL AND SEA WEED. 51 
 
 the change of place so long desired, the poor 
 thing thought that she was certainly doomed to a 
 violent death, thrust down as she was into dark- 
 ness, and surrounded on all sides, and nearly 
 suffocated by the loathsome Sea Weed that was 
 above and beneath her. No more fair prospect 
 of sea, and shore, and sky ; not a breath of fresh 
 air to sweep away the stifling odor. "Dsgust- 
 ing," " loathsome," " insolent." She might say 
 that as often as she chose, but there was not 
 much comfort in expressing herself thus when 
 she was really so very miserable so nearly de- 
 stroyed. That was certainly no place for show- 
 ing off her pride, or for parading her beauty. 
 
 At last the Shell began to arouse herself, and 
 to make desperate efforts. Must there not be 
 some way of escape ? and if there were, could 
 she not find it ? Yes, to her delight she found 
 that she could move through her prison house 
 and though it was always down that she went, 
 at every step, and never up towards the light, 
 the Shell did not think of that, but continued to
 
 52 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 
 
 descend, and was glad to do so and at last she 
 reached a wooden barrier. It was the frame 
 work of the basket. How " lucky " that was, 
 she thought as if there were really any such 
 thing as " luck " in the world ! and then, what 
 was best of all, she thought, a short time after 
 the basket was lifted and carried away, and the 
 Shell fell upon the ground, and nobody noticed 
 it in the least. Here for a long time she rested, 
 and owing to the exertions she had made, Miss 
 Shell was quite content to rest here. But af- 
 ter a while the old restless spirit began to make 
 itself heard again ; and, oh ! if she were only 
 back on the beach ! or, oh ! if she could "only 
 go once more down into the ocean cave ! - or, 
 indeed, anywhere, anywhere in the wide world 
 than just where she happened to be. But, the 
 Shell might turn herself about, and she might 
 move in this direction, and in that direction, and 
 groan and sigh ; she had gone just as far as she 
 could go, unless in some way she was aided by 
 somebody more powerful than herself. And as
 
 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 53 
 
 might be supposed, the Shell became very lone- 
 ly in her new situation all was so strange there 
 in the wood all was so dim and solemn there. 
 
 One day she was roused from a slumber at 
 noonday, by the sound of a person walking in 
 the wood. It was a youth who wandered about 
 with his head bent on his breast, lost in thought. 
 But they were not gloomy thoughts he had 
 they were all about a friend whom he loved 
 very dearly ; and he had just been telling her 
 how much he loved her, and had made the dis- 
 covery that she loved him also. So that this 
 was the very happiest day of the young fellow's 
 life. 
 
 Nothing of this knew the Pink Shell, and she 
 said to herself " If he sees me my fortune is 
 made, for he has a pair of bright eyes in his 
 head, and that 's more than I can say for any- 
 thing else I Ve seen in this dismal place." 
 
 While the youth walked along with his head 
 bent thus, he was looking for some place where 
 he might sit down and reflect ; at last he come
 
 54: PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 
 
 close to the mossy bank where the Shell was, 
 and there he sat down and indulged in the most 
 delightful meditations. 
 
 " Selfish ! " murmured the Shell; " he thinks 
 of nobody in the world but himself why can't 
 he see that I am here, and half dead to get 
 away. I am sure I would not in the least 
 trouble him ! " 
 
 It seemed as if the young man must have 
 heard her complaint, for no sooner was it ended, 
 than he arose quickly, and his eyes fixed upon 
 the very place where she was lying. 
 
 "Good luck!" exclaimed the Shell; and a 
 brighter blush seemed to overspread her hand- 
 some face. 
 
 And when the youth stooped and lifted her, 
 looking so pleasant and so glad, she thought it 
 was a great wonder that she did not swoon with 
 delight. But she kept her senses through it all. 
 
 As to the youth himself, he thought it was a 
 most fortunate thing that he had come into the 
 wood that day. He had found such a nice gift
 
 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 55 
 
 for his friend and he made a little plan in his 
 mind about the Shell, which he kept to himself. 
 
 The next day Miss Shell found herself in a ve- 
 ry odd sort of place ; the handsome youth with 
 whom she had hoped to remain, had some queer 
 project in his head that concerned her; what 
 could it be ? "Why had he left her in that disa- 
 greeable garret, in the hands of that dirty work- 
 man, who coughed so much, and looked so pale 
 and so distressed? what would he do with 
 her ? The young man had given this person a 
 great many directions, but of these she could 
 not understand a word. They were both kind- 
 hearted looking men she did not believe that 
 they meant to destroy her. But then why was 
 she there ? and of what use were all those 
 bright, sharp tools which lay on the workman's 
 table? Miss Shell trembled as she asked her- 
 self that question. 
 
 Oh for the sea side ! if she could only find 
 herself back on the beach ! surely, that was 
 the best of all places for a residence ; and bet-
 
 56 PINK SHELL AND SEAWEED. 
 
 ter and pleasanter it seemed, as day after day 
 went on, and still she remained in the dingy city 
 workshop, watching that distressed, pale, weary 
 looking man at his labor, and listening to the 
 noises of the crowded streets. 
 
 The Shell had nothing to do but to think 
 but no one seemed to think of her not even 
 the workman to whom the handsome youth gave 
 so many directions. 
 
 But soon she had occasion to think another 
 thought, and wish another wish the poor, 
 proud Shell ! She had fancied herself so hand- 
 some, so perfect ! and the artist did not 
 agree with her ; that is, if one might judge of 
 his thoughts by his deeds. Certainly yes ; it 
 was his intention to destroy her ! And the Shell 
 gave herself up for lost, and fainted away with 
 fright, and the last thing she thought was, 
 " After all, I must have abused the poor Sea 
 Weed I hope she has forgotten all about it." 
 
 Often the young man went to the artist's work- 
 room. He watched the progress of the work
 
 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 57 
 
 he had ordered to be done, with the greatest in- 
 terest but Miss Shell, during this time, until 
 the work was finished, remained unconscious of 
 all that was going on. 
 
 When she awakened at last, all was darkness 
 around her. She heard voices, but nothing could 
 she see, and the Shell groaned inwardly, and 
 said, " Alas ! I am become stone blind ! that 
 must account for it the vile workman put out 
 my eyes, and then I fainted." It was a poor 
 consolation, that thought ! 
 
 She listened earnestly, and then she spoke 
 again to herself, and said, " Aha ! if my eyes 
 are gone my ears are opened, " and certainly 
 her ears were opened, or some other strange 
 thing had happened, for the shell could now un- 
 derstand what was said between the youth and 
 the artist. She knew it was these two that 
 talked together, because, though she could not 
 see them she recognized the voices. 
 
 " How much do I owe you ? " asked the young 
 man. 
 
 c*
 
 58 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 
 
 " Well let me see : it is very fine work the 
 gentleman will observe." 
 
 " Yes," was the reply. 
 
 "It tried my eyes sorely to cut so fine a 
 flower, and the dove hovering over the flower, I 
 never did so nice a piece of work as that before." 
 
 " Yes it 's exquisite," said the young man 
 with great admiration, evidently. 
 
 " It was difficult to cut the cameo," (how 
 Miss Shell shuddered as she heard that < That 
 means me it must mean me, and I 've been cut 
 up with those sharp steel instruments ! ' she said 
 to herself with a groan,) " for you see," resumed 
 the man, stopping to cough after every word, 
 " one false mark might easily have ruined the 
 whole thing." 
 
 "Yes, yes I see," said the youth, with a 
 little impatience, " but let me know your charge, 
 my good fellow, I J m in a hurry." 
 
 Ten dollars." 
 
 The young man said no more, but the shell heard 
 hrm counting, " Three five eight ten" and
 
 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 59 
 
 then he said, " Is that right ? " and the artist 
 answered, "Yes all right thank you, sir; 
 but would you please, sir, to let me look again 
 at the cameo, for a moment? thank you." 
 
 ISTo the Shell was certainly not blind, 
 there was now light all around her in a mo- 
 ment, and she saw it, and when to her amaze- 
 ment she looked up into the face of the artist, 
 she saw that his eyes were full of tears and he 
 said " Well, if it is my work I 've never seen 
 any handsomer." 
 
 " And to think," said the young man, " a month 
 ago it was only a pretty shell lying in the wood, 
 of no use to anybody. You and I have proved 
 that it was good for something, Mr. Artist." 
 
 And they laughed ; the shell did not laugh 
 however she was greatly indignant that they 
 should have dared to speak of her in such a 
 manner. But what strange thing was it that 
 had h ppened to her? "What had the artist 
 done ? Oh, if she could but see herself; she 
 was not blind that she knew yet it was very
 
 60 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 
 
 odd she could not see as she used to do. She 
 could see everything but that she most longed 
 to see which was, of course, herself! 
 
 A moment after the strange darkness again 
 was over and around her, that is to say, the 
 Shell-cameo was shut up again in a box, and 
 the youth earned it away with him. Down the 
 stairs he went, out into the crowded street, and 
 then there was a long, long way, walked very 
 rapidly ; then up a flight of steps ; a careful 
 opening of a door; through a long passage way ; 
 up another pair of stairs then another door 
 was opened and the Shell found herself no 
 longer in darkness but when she looked around 
 she saw that she was alone ; the young man had 
 left her there alone. 
 
 |k 
 
 She was lying on a white marble slab that was 
 underneath a large and splendid mirror, and 
 around her were a multitude of shining, beauti- 
 ful things, whose use she could not guess, whose 
 like she had never seen before. 
 
 The Shell-cameo felt the most strange sen-
 
 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 61 
 
 sation when she thought of herself there alone 
 in that chamber ; she had never thought the 
 same thoughts, or felt the same feelings as now. 
 Though it had never entered her head to dream 
 of an apartment so beautiful, though everything 
 around her was so strange, so different from all 
 she had ever seen before, still she could not help 
 thinking, " I am not alone here some friend or 
 some acquaintance I have known in days past is 
 certainly near me." But as she looked at the 
 lace window curtains, and bed curtains, and the 
 handsome carpet ; on the pictures, and the orna- 
 ments in the room, and fatigued herself with 
 wondering, she could not arrive at any conclu- 
 sion as to what it could mean that she should 
 have such thoughts and feelings, for as I said, 
 never had she had the like before. 
 
 That same day, in the afternoon, a little lady 
 came singing into the chamber: a young girl 
 who certainly had just heard of, or done, some 
 pleasant Xfoing, for her face was lovely with the 
 happy smile it wore
 
 62 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 
 
 - She walked about the room, and looked from 
 the windows, and sang like a bird but it was 
 a long while, at least so it seemed to the Shell, 
 before she went up to the mirror and saw the 
 cameo lying there. 
 
 " Now," said the Shell, " my time has come 
 at last." 
 
 And certainly it had, for the little lady took 
 the cameo, and ran with it to the window, and 
 then back again to the mirror, and all she said 
 was, "Albert!" 
 
 "Ah!" said the Shell, with a jealous sigh, 
 " she thinks more of the giver than she does of 
 the gift, after all ; but I 'm sure of one thing, I 
 shall now see what strange thing it is that has 
 happened to me." 
 
 And as the little lady fastened the cameo upon 
 her bosom, the Shell gazed upon herself, and 
 said with rapture, " Ah, if the Sea Weed could 
 only see me now, what would she say ? " 
 
 But when she said it, a pang shot through her 
 heart, and the vain Shell fairly blushed why ?
 
 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 63 
 
 because at that very instant it seemed to her 
 that something whispered, 
 
 "Be careful, Miss Shell, what you say or 
 think about the Sea "Weed be careful, be 
 careful ! " 
 
 But when the Shell thought this all over, she 
 was again vesy indignant because of the Sea 
 Weed, and she said to herself more proudly 
 than ever, " I would exceedingly like to have 
 that Weed here to see me now ; she would per- 
 ceive that I had found my proper pla9e at last." 
 
 " That may be," something whispered and 
 the voice seemed to come from the mirror 
 " that may be, but be careful, Miss Shell, what 
 you say about the Sea "Weed, just be careful, if 
 you please." 
 
 This was all very strange what could it 
 mean ? Miss Shell was as much in the dark as 
 when she fancied herself blind because shut up 
 in the box. 
 
 I will tell you what it meant. As to the Shell, 
 she found it all out soon enough.
 
 64 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 
 
 That same afternoon, a little girl, much 
 younger than the little lady who wore the cam- 
 eo that her friend Albert had given her, came 
 into the beautiful chamber. 
 
 " Sister," she said, hurrying up to the little 
 lady 
 
 " "Well," was the answer she got. 
 
 "What is kelp?" 
 
 " Kelp ? why, it is sea weed burned." 
 
 The cameo gave a start of surprise, and lis- 
 tened eagerly to hear what should come next. 
 
 " And so the sea weed, such as we gathered 
 last summer, goes to make glass like that mir- 
 ror," pointing to the one before her. 
 
 " Yes, that is very true," said the little lady, 
 "and this cameo, Lily, look at it Albert 
 gave it to me ; it is made of a shell. So you 
 see the ocean gives us a great many curious and 
 beautiful things ! " 
 
 The poor Pink Shell ! she gave a sort of groan, 
 but no words could express her mortification 
 and surprise at that moment. Yery well she
 
 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 65 
 
 knew why it was that she felt that she was near 
 an old acquaintance, when Albert left her on 
 the marble slab underneath the splendid mirror. 
 
 ISTo sleep for her that night, when she lay on 
 the slab once more, after the little lady had gone 
 into her bed. But there she was, awake through 
 all the long, dark hours ; so wretched, so miser- 
 able no one can tell how miserable, who has 
 not been kept awake thinking of some duty he 
 is too proud to perform. 
 
 But at last there came at midnight a voice 
 ^rom out the mirror, and it said, 
 
 " Pink Shell 1 " 
 
 " What ? " she answered. 
 
 " Do you know me now ? n 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " What am I ? " 
 
 " Sea Weed." 
 
 " Yes, that 's very true well, what do you 
 think of me now, Pink Shell ? " 
 
 " I 'm not thinking of you at all." 
 
 "That's honest I see you're not so very
 
 66 PINK SHELL AND SEAWBED. 
 
 much changed after all ; though I hardly rec- 
 ognized you when you came in." 
 
 " Sea "Weed, if I 'm not changed, you are" 
 
 " Yes, I know it ; I 'm of some use and im- 
 portance now besides, I have passed through 
 so many transformations, I hardly know myself." 
 
 " They have made you proud." 
 
 "Don't say that! don't say that if you 
 please. I 'm of some use, and for that I 'm 
 thankful thankful, do you hear ? not proud. 
 I hope I 'm not so foolish. As I believe I told 
 you long ago, when I was nothing but an ugly 
 weed, according to your way of thinking, I 've 
 had nothing to do with making myself, so why 
 should I be proud ? " 
 
 " Oh, Sea Weed," began Miss Shell, but there 
 she stopped. 
 
 ".Well," said the voice from the mirror, speak- 
 ing very gently, for the Shell seemed to be in 
 great distress. 
 
 " Sea Weed," she began again after a long si- 
 lence, " I hope you '11 forget all those silly things
 
 PINK SHELL AND SEA WEED. 6T 
 
 I used to say. I 'ye been so impatient, and so 
 proud dear me I've been a great fool 
 but " 
 
 " Say no more, my beautiful " 
 
 " Don't call me beautiful." 
 
 " What shall I call you? " 
 
 " Say Sister, I forgive you," said Cameo, af- 
 ter a long, long pause. 
 
 " Sister, I have forgotten all about it," said 
 the mirror, and they never had a quarrel after 
 that day, you may be certain.
 
 tk Pa's f 
 
 TTTHETHER there was anything at all in it 
 ii or if it meant anything that I cannot 
 say ; you must be the judge. 
 
 But this was what happened, all in the same 
 moment, with some people who lived together 
 in a house on Grand street. Yes Grand street 
 they called it but I'm sure I don't know why. 
 They lived in the same house, but they had 
 very little to do with each other ; for they were 
 lodgers, and rented the rooms, all except Mar- 
 garet, who slept in a narrow passage-way in the 
 basement, for she was the servant, and the house 
 was so crowded that there was no other place 
 where she could put herself away, out of sight, 
 when night came. 
 
 In the upper story of the house, that is to say 
 in the attic, lived a widow lady and her child,
 
 LITTLE ALICE'S PRAYER. 69 
 
 a little girl not yet six years old. Directly un- 
 der the skylight was a large rose bush, full of 
 buds and blossoms and it was as old, and 
 older than Alice, the widow's child ; for on the 
 day that she was born her father brought it 
 home, and at that time there was one rose but 
 one upon the fragile stem. 
 
 How it had grown since that day ! It was now 
 a splendid rose bush almost as tall as Alice her- 
 self. A nd next to her child, the poor widow loved 
 the rose better than all things in the world. 
 
 In the day-time it was very pleasant up there 
 in the attic, but at night! oh, it was gloomy 
 then ; for, after Alice was asleep, the widow was 
 alone, and there was nothing to amuse her and 
 even if there had been she could not have stop- 
 ped to enjoy it; for she was working day and 
 night, trying to lay by money enough to educate 
 her child, as many another loving mother has 
 -done- 
 Just as the clock struck seven, that night 
 when the strange thing happened, Alice knelt
 
 70 LITTLE ALICE'S PRAYER. 
 
 down beside the little table on which stood the 
 rose bush, and said aloud the Lord's prayer, and 
 after that she continued to kneel and to pray for 
 a moment in silence, as she always did, asking 
 God for whatever thing she most desired. 
 
 And what it was she asked for I do not know, 
 but it was very strange in the same moment 
 that she asked it, a blessing seemed to have fal- 
 len on all the hearts that did most need it in the 
 house. 
 
 There was Margaret in the basement, with 
 work to do that would keep her busy, tired as 
 she already was, until late at night ; she had 
 just been giving relief to her heavy heart, and 
 the tears she shed were bitter. Why should she 
 labor so like a slave, doing her best to please all, 
 and never receive in return gentle words, and 
 pleasant smiles ? Her heart cried out for the 
 old friends in fatherland but they did not an- 
 swer her. She was alone ; and oh, so lonely ! 
 Were you ever alone, and lonely ? Then you 
 will know how to pity her.
 
 LITTLE ALICE'S PEAYEE. 71 
 
 The clock struck SEVEN. Margaret looked up ; 
 the old dim lamp seemed to burn more faintly 
 than ever and there was the great heap of 
 work yet to do what right had she to be sit- 
 ting there in the basement, weeping, making 
 such a waste of the time ? 
 
 She sprung from her chair, and suddenly, as if 
 some spring had been touched in her sad heart, 
 Margaret began to sing. With a faltering voice 
 at first, for she had wept so violently that she 
 could not control the voice. Her own singing 
 made her smile. " Beautiful music that, to be 
 sure," said she, and stopping short, she began 
 the verse again. And this time how bravely 
 she sang it ; with a low, but firm, sweet voice, 
 and there was not a break in it from the begin- 
 ning to the end of the song ; four verses, 
 she sang them all. 
 
 All this time she was not standing still with 
 folded arms ; a wonderful change had taken 
 place in the appearance of the basement since 
 the clock struck for seven. The old lamp no
 
 72 LITTLE ALICE'S PKAYEB. 
 
 longer burned dimly ; it blazed like a torch, and, 
 though it smoked a little, Margaret had drawn 
 the wick up so high, she did not mind that, it 
 looked so cheerful there, and she all at once felt 
 so cheerful, and this was the way she talked to 
 herself 
 
 " Courage, Margaret ! Courage, old heart ! 
 there's a good time coming you are strong, if 
 you 're not made of iron, and God rules over 
 all." And while she talked thus to herself she 
 thought of little Alice up in the attic, and said, 
 for dearly she loved the child, " That is the an- 
 gel of the house, and it 's right she should sleep 
 away up there, for that room, of all in the house, 
 is nearest to heaven, where she belongs. And 
 if Alice prayed for Margaret I cannot tell 
 but this I know, the poor Irish girl blessed 
 Alice. 
 
 Over the basement was the drawing-room, and 
 it was very brilliant with gas-lights there. 
 
 There was too much light not for the room, 
 for that looked quite splendid, but for the man
 
 LITTLE ALICE'S PKAYEE. 73 
 
 in it, who walked to and fro with his head bent 
 on his breast, thinking thinking thinking. 
 
 They were not such thoughts as he would like 
 to have seen written out upon the wall, so that 
 all who happened to go into the room could read 
 them if they chose. He was wretched with 
 those thoughts ; they made his heart as restless 
 as the waves of the sea they haunted him in his 
 dreams and when he was awake, as now, they 
 tempted him. They were his tormentors. 
 
 They were having a fierce battle with them- 
 selves this night. They had battled thus all day, 
 and now the strife was nearly at an end. You 
 see him he is going towards the door it is 
 too light for him there, he shades his eyes with 
 his hands he will go out where there is dark- 
 ness. 
 
 But why does he stop just as he reaches the 
 door? Why does he fold his arms upon his 
 breast, and lean against the wall, and think 
 again ? Do but see how calm his face is grow- 
 ing ! he does not need to shade his eyes now 
 D
 
 74r LITTLE ALIOE ? S PRAYER. 
 
 there is not too much light there he looks up. 
 Again he walks up and down the room the 
 silver clock upon the mantle is striking SEVEN. 
 "What can it mean ? What can it mean ? Why, 
 he is delivered from his temptation, and he steps 
 as if that temptation were lying like a worm in 
 his path, and he crushing it under his feet. He 
 does not now find the gas-light too clear and 
 searching. 
 
 And that happened while the clock was stri- 
 king SEVEN, and while little Alice prayed ! I 
 wonder if she asked a blessing for him in that 
 prayer ? 
 
 In the room above there was a faint but clear 
 and steady light burning. The place looked 
 full of shadows, except just about the table 
 where the candle stood. 
 
 Here, also, was a youth, alone. He did not 
 look like the man who walked up and down the 
 brilliant drawing room below. His papers and 
 books were before him, but he neither wrote nor 
 read ; and very often he sighed, and said, a brief
 
 LITTLE ALICE'S PEA TEE. 75 
 
 word that sounded like " Alas ! " and if 
 he really did not say the word, his face look- 
 ed it. 
 
 He was contrasting his own situation with 
 that of the man in the drawing-room, for that 
 man was very rich, and the student was very 
 poor. The rich man had nothing to trouble him, 
 and the poor man had why, he thought he 
 had as much as a thousand of the very heaviest 
 burdens to bear. In the first place he was 
 alone, nobody cared for him ; he might suc- 
 ceed, or he might fail in his attempts, who 
 car.ed whether the one thing happened or the 
 other? He might write, and write but if 'his 
 book was never finished, who would think it 
 was a great pity, and a great misfortune to the 
 world ? And if he did complete it, who would 
 print it ? "Who would buy it if it happened to 
 be printed ? Where could Tie look for his 
 readers ? 
 
 If it was too light for the thoughts of the man 
 who was thinking in the drawing room below,
 
 76 LITTLE ALICE'S PBATEE. 
 
 it certainly was not too dark for the thoughts of 
 the man who was thinking in that little closet 
 of a room above ! 
 
 He could not tell the hour, for he had no 
 watch, and there was no clock in the room ; but 
 the student knew that it was very early in 
 the evening. There were a great many hours 
 yet before he could think of sleep and so he 
 sat and indulged still longer in his gloomy 
 meditations. 
 
 But presently a church clock in the next 
 street told the hour of SEVEN'. The bell had a 
 soft, mellow sound. The student loved the 
 sound, he always laid aside his pen and lis- 
 tened, when it was striking. But what great 
 change was that coming so suddenly over the 
 student ? I wish you could have seen it it 
 was so curious. How his eyes flashed! how 
 the desponding face became bright with intelli- 
 gence and cheerfulness ! and the bent figure 
 straightened itself- before the table. The folded 
 hands are unclasped, one sweeps over the
 
 LITTLE ALICE'S PRAYER. 77 
 
 white forehead and pushes away the mass of 
 disordered hair, the other seizes the pen upon 
 the table. The student has a great thought in 
 his head ! 
 
 He goes to work at it, it opens before him 
 like a box of jewels, it brings such a mul- 
 titude of other thoughts with it ! He begins 
 to lay them rapidly upon the paper. What 
 a rich treasure 1 and they are all his own 
 thoughts ! 
 
 The candle burns down to the socket before 
 he is aware ; the clock strikes twelve before he 
 is done ; and yet he is not weary and a hap- 
 pier man, why, I think you could not find a 
 happier man than he in all Grand street on this 
 night 1 
 
 Now, if that fortunate thought, which so 
 cheered the poor student that he went to bed 
 thanking God who sent it to him, was the an- 
 swer to the prayer of little Alice up in the attic 
 when the clock struck SEVEN, that I cannot tell ; 
 but it was certainly very strange that all these
 
 78 LITTLE ALICE'S PBAYEB. 
 
 good people should have been made so happy at 
 that very moment, was it not ? and for my 
 own part, I believe that the prayer of a child in 
 the house is a great blessing.
 
 t $ 0fon Jump, 
 
 OF course it did not stand in any man's kitch- 
 en, or cellar, or yard, for it was the Town 
 PUMP, and its place was in the public street, 
 near the- sidewalk; What a grand situation 1 
 Nothing could happen to the right or left, up or 
 down the thoroughfare, without the knowledge 
 of the Pump ! It could not see the sun rise 
 and that, to be sure, was a great privation ; but 
 from ten o'clock till sunset, provided there were 
 no clouds in the way, the Pump might gaze on 
 the heavens, and behold the great light that 
 lighteth the day. Taking all things into consid- 
 eration, a more desirable situation, for one who 
 was to serve the public, could not be imagined. 
 One moonlight night last summer, I was sit- 
 ting at my window the blinds were wide 
 open ? and a very refreshing breeze swept through
 
 80 THE TOWN PUMP. 
 
 the house. It had rained in the afternoon : and 
 you know how delightful it is in the evening 
 after a summer shower especially if the moon 
 is shining. 
 
 I was in a very idle mood, and ready to think 
 of anything, or nothing, just as the case might 
 be. IS"ot sleepy at all, though I had worked 
 hard all day so you must not say that what I 
 am going to tell you about was only a dream. 
 You may be perfectly sure that my eyes were 
 wide open all the while, and that while I con- 
 versed with the Pump I knew what I was 
 about. 
 
 Conversed with the Pump? Yes, though it is 
 quite likely you never heard of such a thing 
 before. I never did either. 
 
 And I suppose I should not have thought of 
 doing such a thing, but for the little girl that 
 came from a house over the way, with a tin pail 
 in her hand ; and I could hear what she said 
 very distinctly, it was so still in the street. She 
 said,
 
 THE TOWN PUMP. 81 
 
 " Old Pump ! I, for one, shall be very glad 
 when I see the last yon." 
 
 Her words reminded me of what I had heard 
 before, but I had forgotten it again, that to-mor- 
 row was the Pump's birth day, and I said to 
 myself, 
 
 " He must be wide awake if he 's like other 
 folks. Nobody sleeps very soundly the night 
 before his birth-day. And probably he is think- 
 ing of all that has happened to him, and to other 
 people, in the course of his life. I '11 just ask 
 him about it." So I said, 
 
 "Town Pump!" 
 
 But there was no answer. 
 
 This annoyed me a little. It is n't pleasant to 
 address a person and get no answer ; and though 
 the Town Pump was not a PERSON, still it was a 
 THING and in grammar a THING is called a noun 
 as well as a PERSON and is quite as respectable. 
 
 I reflected a moment. Perhaps if I came out 
 with a question, I might be answered at once. 
 May be, after all, the Pump was not ceremont- v 
 D* 6
 
 82 THE TOWN PUMTP. 
 
 ous, and was vexed that I should be, and there- 
 fore would not take the trouble when I said 
 " Town Pump," to say, " What do you want? " 
 
 So I exclaimed 
 
 " You do nothing but think. You can see all 
 that goes on, and understand why people do thus 
 and so, because you have nothing to do but to 
 look. You don't get mixed up with other folks 
 and confused, and distracted, and tired." 
 
 " Don't I ? " a voice, harsh, but not disagree- 
 able, exclaimed. That was all it said but the 
 words meant a great deal. I understood, just 
 as well as if the voice had said it outright, that 
 the Pump did get confused, distracted, and 
 tired ; and that I had only shown how little I 
 knew about it, by saying that it did n't. 
 
 I was so glad to get an answer of any sort, 
 that I cared not at all what shape it came in. 
 
 Perhaps now, thought I, if I tell the Pump 
 the real state of my feelings, I shall get a little 
 pity. So I groaned aloud, 
 
 " Oh, if I could only get away from this
 
 THE TOWN PUMP. 83 
 
 place ! I 'm so weary doing the same work day 
 after day. I want to see new faces, and see new 
 sights, and hear new voices, and do some other 
 kind of work." 
 
 "What do you think I heard in answer to my 
 complaint ? I was very indignant at first, you 
 may be sure. To think said I to myself, in 
 my wrath to think of an old Pump talking to 
 me as if I were a beast ! for he said, 
 
 " WHERE WILT THOU GO, Ox, THAT THOU WILT 
 
 NOT HAVE TO PLOUGH ? " 
 
 But after I had repeated these words to my- 
 self several times, I thought they had a familiar 
 sound ; and at length I remembered that it was 
 an old Spanish Proverb, and I began to have a 
 great degree of respect for the Pump, what a 
 learned Pump it was, to be sure ! Then I said 
 quite meekly, for my anger had altogether passed 
 away, because I understood that the Pump 
 meant to say that there is not a place on earth, 
 and that God never made such a place, where a 
 person might find rest who was not willing and
 
 84 THE TOWN PUMP. 
 
 glad to labor in that state of life to which it had 
 pleased God to call him, I said quite meekly, 
 I repeat, 
 
 " You are exceedingly wise, Mr. Pump can 
 you tell fortunes ? " 
 
 " EVERY DAY IN THY LIFE is A LEAF IN THY HIS- 
 TORY," he replied. 
 
 This was a proverb of the Arabs, I knew. I 
 had heard it often enough ; and when the Pump 
 repeated it, I felt that it only was a polite way 
 of saying to me " You will know your fortune 
 fast enough : be wise, and ask no questions 
 the best thing you can do is to live each day 
 well." 
 
 " I merely thought," said I, " that as you had 
 seen the fortune of so many people from begin- 
 ning to end, and, that as I must be like unto 
 some of them, for I don't natter myself that I 'm 
 unlike every other person, you might very like- 
 ly be able to tell me my fortune. You must 
 have a store of precious recollections, Mr. Pump." 
 
 The Pump made no answer.
 
 THE TOWN PUMP. 85 
 
 Could I not hit upon some way of compelling 
 him to talk about what he had seen and heard ? 
 At least nothing was to be gained by silence on 
 my part. If the Pump was a gossip he must 
 be drawn out. Talk of his own accord he would 
 not. So at last I said, boldly, 
 
 " Pump ! what do you think of the people of 
 this village ? You are about as old an inhabi- 
 tant as we have." 
 
 I waited for the answer ; and I waited very 
 patiently. I could understand that it was a 
 question that required some thought before a 
 proper reply could be made ; but the Pump de- 
 layed so long, that I was about to inform him of 
 my opinion in regard to his incivility, when the 
 silence was broken, 
 
 " IN PROSPERITY NO ALTAR SMOKES," he said. 
 
 "THE RIVER PAST AND GoD FORGOTTEN," he 
 
 said. 
 
 " IT IS NOT WITH SAYING * HONEY, HONEY ! ' THAT 
 SWEETNESS WILL COME INTO THE MOUTH," he also 
 
 said.
 
 86 THE TOWN PUMP. 
 
 " THE MILL OF GOD GRINDS LATE, BUT IT GRINDS 
 TO POWDER," he also said. . 
 
 " They are wise old sayings older than you 
 and I together. See if you can tell what they 
 mean," said the Pump. 
 
 I knew what the Pump meant, and I 
 said in my heart, "He is an old savage;" and 
 aloud I said " You think we are the wickedest 
 people in the world. "What should the people 
 do with their riches? dig a hole and bury 
 them in the grpund? Would that please you, 
 Mr. Pump? Would you like it any better if 
 they dressed in rags and went barefoot, and 
 laughed at the proud ? " 
 
 " THERE ARE THOSE WHO DESPISE PRIDE WITH A 
 GREATER PRIDE," said the Pump. 
 
 "That's very true," answered I. "Pride 
 does n't always show itself in beautiful carria- 
 ges, and fine clothes, and grand dinners." 
 
 I stopped here in the middle of my speech, 
 for I heard the sound of many persons walking 
 in the street. The noise was so unusual at that
 
 THETOWNPUMP. 87 
 
 time of night that I looked out, wondering what 
 could be going on. To my great surprise I be- 
 held a number of my friends, and some others 
 whom I had never seen before, marching up the 
 street. At first I thought I would , call out to 
 them, and ask what they meant by parading in 
 that way by moonlight ; but on second thought, 
 I felt it would be wiser to ask Mr. Pump for an 
 explanation. 
 
 So I asked him, and the answer he made me 
 was, 
 
 " Keep silence." 
 
 He said it in a way that convinced me more 
 would follow, and I was right. 
 
 The procession suddenly disappeared, even 
 while I was looking at it. Then I heard a rip- 
 pling, gurgling sound, like the flowing of a brook 
 in April, the heart of Mr. Pump was full to 
 running over, it was a beautiful sound. And 
 then I saw a little beggar girl. She was stand- 
 ing beside Mr. Pump. She was clothed in rags, 
 and they did not half cover her. Her feet were
 
 88 THE TOWN PUMP. 
 
 bare, and one of them was bleeding, and she 
 looked very tired. On her arm she carried an 
 old basket, it was half filled with crusts of 
 bread some servant had given her from the MAS- 
 TER'S table. "Well, this little one sat down at 
 Pump's feet, and drank from the cup he gave 
 her. You know what that cup was, the great 
 wooden trough from which every weary one 
 dog, horse, cow, or man was as free to drink 
 as could be. 
 
 As soon as she had eaten the crust, the little 
 one was up and away again singing as she 
 went and her voice was not sad, but merry 
 and gay. She was a happy child ; and before 
 she was out of sight I heard Mr. Pump saying 
 softly to himself, yet he meant me to hear him, 
 I thought, 
 
 " GOD TEMPERS THE WIND TO THE SHORN LAMB." 
 
 Well I knew of course that this was only 
 the beginning of the wonder and therefore I 
 leaned back in my chair, and thought upon the 
 little beggar girl, and remembered the beauti-
 
 THE TOWN PUMP. 89 
 
 ful words of Scripture, that "Tot a sparrow 
 falls to the ground without your Father : even 
 the very hairs of your head are all numbered." 
 And I could but think how weak we are to 
 groan, and fret, and be troubled about many 
 things, when He has promised never to leave or 
 forsake us. 
 
 Presently up came two young lads, and these I 
 will also describe for you. They were both 
 poor, that I knew by their dress, but not so 
 poor as the little girl who was a beggar ; for 
 their clothes were whole, though patched, and 
 the boys were stout and strong, and they were 
 able to earn their bread by their own labor. 
 
 Which in fact they did; and they worked 
 for the same master. But though they were 
 both young both poor both industrious 
 there was a vast difference between them. And 
 this was the difference : but no, I will not tell it 
 to you I will only make mention of the prov- 
 erb which Mr. Pump said to them while he 
 looked them in the face :
 
 90 THE TOWN PUMP. 
 
 "The master of one trade will support a wife 
 and seven children : t?i& master of seven will not 
 support himself." 
 
 And tliis was what I noticed, as I watched the 
 two boys while Mr. Pump said that : one of 
 them looked very indignant, and grew red, and 
 angrily walked away, while the other took off 
 his cap, bowed very respectfully to the venera- 
 ble speaker, and said, "That is a wise saying 
 thank you for it, Mr. P ." 
 
 After he had gone away, I saw another youth. 
 He was one I knew very well a kind, good 
 soul and I loved him very much; but I was 
 always afraid for him, because I knew that this 
 is a hard world for all who are not willing to 
 take their proper part, and do their proper work 
 in it. 
 
 He came strolling up the street at the old 
 gait, putting one foot before another in a way 
 that made you think of a crab for you could 
 hardly tell if he meant to go forward or back- 
 ward. It was the way he did everything, as
 
 THE TOWN PUMP. 91 
 
 if he were not more than half alive ; as if he 
 did not wish to do the thing he was attempting 
 to do ; as if he did not believe the words he was 
 saying to you ; and as if the world did not need 
 him at all, nor he the world in the least. You 
 should have seen him saunter up the street! 
 When I saw him I wanted "to cry out, " David, 
 David ! what a/re you living for ? " but then I 
 thought surely Mr. Pump will be good enough 
 and wise enough to teach him a lesson he will 
 never forget, and I waited to hear. 
 
 When he had nearly reached Mr. P , he 
 
 seemed to have no intention of stopping, but 
 kept on his way, at that same old snail pace. 
 He was not to get by without a rebuke, how- 
 ever. Very likely David sighed as he ap- 
 proached the old inhabitant. He had a way of 
 sighing, as if his fate were the hardest man ever 
 bore. I could see him start when the Pump 
 gave that groan which always preceded his re- 
 marks, and I could also see his look of wonder 
 when the voice said,
 
 92 THE TOWN PUMP. 
 
 " Who has a mouth, let him not say to another, 
 
 David stopped short, lie looked up at the 
 moon ; he looked around him on every side. I 
 could see him blush even at that distance ; and 
 then, this was what made me glad he walked 
 rapidly up the street, and Mr. Pump said, 
 " That 's a good night's work, he is waked up at 
 last ; yes, and he won't go to sleep again in a 
 hurry. Mr. David will do a good day's work 
 yet that 's certain." I blessed the old Pump 
 when I heard him say that. 
 
 After David came a woman. She also was 
 walking very slow- her arms were folded on 
 her breast,- and her head bent. I could not see 
 her face, but I could hear her crying, and could 
 see that she wore heavy mourning garments. 
 
 I trembled when I saw her. I said Her sor- 
 row is more than she can bear. I leaned from 
 the window, and looked upon her : if I only 
 knew her sorrow, surely I, even I, could comfort 
 her : this was my thought. I wondered if the
 
 THETOWNPUMP. 93 
 
 Pump would know what to say to her, he 
 seemed to know everything. I hoped in my 
 heart it was no harsh thing that he would say. 
 
 His heart was more tender than mine. It not 
 only was moved with pity for her, but he could 
 find the proper word to say, 
 
 " No leaf moves ~but God wills it." 
 
 That was what he said. And I wept when I 
 heard it. But the woman who had been so dis- 
 tracted with her grief stood still when the voice 
 sounded, as if the words came from heaven ; and 
 after a moment of dead silence, I heard her cry, 
 
 " Oh, my Father in Heaven, forgive me the 
 child was thine. It was thy mercy that took 
 him from me I Forgive me, that I murmured." 
 
 And when I looked again I saw her standing 
 with her face uncovered, looking up into heaven, 
 smiling, and what struck me as very surprising, in- 
 stead of her mourning garments she wore a dress 
 of white, and there were no tears in her eyes. 
 
 After this came by another woman, and she 
 had an angry looking face. It would have been
 
 94: THETOWNPTJMP. 
 
 beautiful but for the angry look. For she was 
 very fair, and her eyes were bright, and her hair 
 brown and curling. But what made nae shud- 
 der was that she carried a serpent in her arms, 
 and it rested upon her bosom like an infant. 
 Behind her followed a younger woman, very 
 pale, and she was lovely. She wept and it 
 was because of the words her companion said 
 that she wept. This I understood at once, and 
 I hoped in my heart that Mr. Pump would give 
 the angry woman a good lesson : and he did. 
 He was not the person to neglect so excellent an 
 opportunity. 
 
 And I listened to hear what he should say 
 " THE EVIL WHICH ISSUES FROM THY MOUTH FALLS 
 INTO THY BOSOM," said he. 
 
 How the angry woman started as she heard 
 that ! She looked down upon her folded arms, 
 she saw the serpent that was nestling in her bo- 
 som ! Oh ! what a shriek she gave ; and her 
 arms were outspread in the twinkling of an eye. 
 Upon her knees she fell, and in her fall the ser-
 
 THE TOWN PUMP. 95 
 
 pent was crushed to death. And also I heard 
 her praying for forgiveness of the woman by 
 her side, as well as of Heaven and when she 
 arose again I could 'see that now she was indeed 
 very beautiful ; and I observed, moreover, that 
 the serpent that had lodged in her breast went 
 floating down the stream of the fountain that 
 overflowed from the heart of Mr. Pump. 
 
 And when these had gone away I looked out 
 again into the street, but all was still ; not a soul 
 was to be seen there. 
 
 Now, said I, Mr. P is well waked up 
 
 I will have a little conversation with him. 
 
 But while I sat thinking what I should say 
 next, it suddenly began to rain violently in at 
 the window ; the thunder and lightning were 
 terrible; and instead of holding any conversa- 
 tion with my friend, I closed the blinds and the 
 window, and left him to talk with the storm. 
 And I have no doubt that they had a very ani- 
 mated conversation but I did not hear it. 1 
 wish I had.
 
 II "FRAGRANT artificials ! " exclaimed Julia, 
 
 J~ laughing, and looking Rose in the face, 
 as if she did not believe one word of it. 
 
 " Just wait, if you please, till you hear more 
 about it," said Rose. " "Were you ever in the 
 shop on the corner of the street ? " 
 
 " The one that looks so like a garden with all 
 those paper flowers in bouquets ? mercy, yes ! 
 a hundred times." 
 
 " I suppose you stop before the windows when- 
 ever you are going that way ? " 
 
 "Yes; every single time. I was never in 
 such a hurry that I could n't take time for that." 
 
 " I wonder if you ever think of the difference 
 between these flowers, and those that grow in 
 the gardens, and fields, and green-houses." 
 
 " Of course I do," said Julia.
 
 THE FBAGRANT ARTIFICIALS. 97 
 
 " Then you can tell me the difference, what 
 is it?" 
 
 " That's a curious question. What makes you 
 ask me ? Do you really think I don't know the 
 difference ? " 
 
 " Tell me what it is : it is only a civil question." 
 
 "But it 's so odd," said Julia ; " but I '11 an- 
 swer it. Flowers that grow have roots, and you 
 can see them opening the flowers I mean. 
 Paper flowers don't have roots. Besides, they 
 are not sweet, they have no fragrance." 
 
 " Just prove that," said Eose. 
 
 Julia said nothing, but went to the table and 
 brought to her friend a large bunch of paper 
 flowers, and held them up to her nose. 
 
 " There ! what do you think now ? Is there 
 any fragrance ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Eose ; " they are sweeter than 
 heliotrope and mignonnette." 
 
 "I should like to borrow your nose," said 
 Julia, laughing; "but, Aunty, what do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 E 7
 
 98 THE FRAGRANT ARTIFICIALS. 
 
 " Sit down, and don't interrupt me. This is 
 what I mean. Yesterday I went down to tho 
 little shop on the corner. I had some business 
 with the woman who owns the shop. On the 
 counter were several large bouquets, which a 
 young girl had just left there. As I went into 
 the place she was coming out, and I could not 
 help noticing her, she was so good looking. 
 And by good looking I don't mean her face was 
 very pretty, but it was modest, and quiet ; and 
 I could easily imagine what sort of voice she 
 had that it was a mild, pleasant, cheerful 
 voice. 
 
 " I imagined that she was the girl who had 
 left the flowers there, and I asked the woman 
 if it was not so. 
 
 " c Yes,' she replied ; ' and she not only left 
 them she also made them.' 
 
 " This surprised me, the girl looked so young ; 
 and I said to the woman, c I had supposed that 
 such work was done by older persons.' 
 
 ^ The woman was silent for a moment, then
 
 FRAGRANT ARTIFICIALS. 99 
 
 she turned away and arranged the new bunches 
 of flowers in places made vacant by recent sales ; 
 after this she went into the back part of the shop 
 and called < TIM ; ' at the same time she put on 
 her bonnet and came up to me. 
 
 " ' Will you go with me ? ' she asked. 
 
 " ' Where, and why ? ' I said. 
 
 " ' I want you should see Kate at her work, 
 I want you should know how some things are 
 done.' 
 
 " ' Is Kate the girl that makes the flowers ? ' 
 I asked. 
 
 " c Yes, ' she answered. 
 
 " ( Oh, well thank you ; I am very glad to 
 go with you,' and I was indeed very glad. 
 
 " We went out into the street together, and 
 walked a long way until we came to a narrow 
 lane. Passing through it we at length came 
 to a little court yard. This the woman entered, 
 and I followed after her. Oh, Judy, you were 
 never in such a dirty, old, tumble-down place as 
 that ! Such a wretched, wretched home ! why,
 
 100 THE FBAGRANT ARTIFICIALS. 
 
 your own little home is a palace compared to it. 
 Some poor children were playing in the court 
 yard. "What do you think they had for toys ? 
 an old boot, and a rag of a slipper, a piece of a 
 broken dish, some clam shells, and bits, of bot- 
 tles, and an old tin pail that was so battered and 
 jammed that it was difficult to believe it had 
 ever had a shape. 
 
 " One little fellow in the corner had hurt his 
 hand with the broken glass, and it bled so of 
 course he cried at the top of his voice, while 
 a girl not as old or as large as he, was trying to 
 comfort him, holding up the toys they had gath- 
 ered together one after another before his eyes. 
 But the smarting cut was not to be healed in 
 that way. I stopped for a moment, wondering 
 what I should do to help him ; for as he held 
 up his hand, the blood ran from it in a stream. 
 "While I was thinking about it, another of the 
 children came up, and without an instant's hes- 
 itation tore a strip of cloth from the rag of a 
 dress she wore, and tied it around the finger.
 
 THE FRAGRANT ARTIFICIALS. 101 
 
 "The woman cried to me from the stairs, 
 which she had begun to ascend, " "Will you not 
 come ? ' 
 
 " I followed quickly after her. Up, up, we 
 went, until at last, after I had thought a dozen 
 times as we walked one flight after another, 
 ' Now, surely, the woman will stop here ! ' I 
 cried out, 
 
 " 'Pray, tell me, is this Jacob's ladder and 
 if it is, where can it lead one ? not into heaven, 
 I'm sure! Besides, you said you would take 
 me into a garden. Pray, what sort of a garden 
 is this ? it must be a hanging garden, I think, 
 like those they had in old times.' 
 
 " ' You '11 know all about it when you get 
 there, and that will be immediately, if you will 
 only come on,' said the woman, who was far be- 
 yond me ; and I could hear her still going on, 
 step after step. 
 
 " c Come ! come on ! we are nearly there ;' 
 and so we went on and on. 
 
 " Presently I heard her stop and rap, and I
 
 102 THE FRAGRANT ARTIFICIALS. 
 
 hurried on the faster. We had actually reach- 
 ed the last half story. The house was five and 
 a half stories high, and we were in the garret ; 
 and for a person who dislikes stair-climbing as 
 I [do, this was something of a task I had per- 
 formed. But now we were at last at the gate of 
 the garden, where that young Kate gathered all 
 her beautiful flowers. 
 
 " i It is only I, Kate,' said my guide and she 
 tapped lightly again. 
 
 " At the same instant the door opened, and 
 Kate stood there before us ; so we went into the 
 garden. 
 
 " I wonder but no, I don't wonder, for I 
 know you never, never saw, or imagined, 
 a place like that. What sort of a sunshine 
 do you suppose those flowers had for growing 
 in? 
 
 Judy was sure she did n't know. 
 
 "They grew in the sunshine of that girl's 
 smile," said Kose. " Must she not have been ex- 
 ceedingly happy? "
 
 THE FRAGRANT ARTIFICIALS. 103 
 
 Yes Judy thought she must be . exceed- 
 ingly happy of course. 
 
 u But what was there to make her so happy? " 
 
 Oh, of course, Judy could n't tell that. How 
 should she know ? 
 
 "7" know," said Rose, "and I mean to tell 
 you; but first do you tell me, when Mary 
 anointed our dear Saviour's feet with the pre- 
 cious ointment, why was he pleased with the 
 gift, and how came she, who was poor, to make 
 so costly a gift ? " Judy was silent, 
 
 " Don't you know ? Can it be that you don't 
 know ? " asked Rose. 
 1 " She loved much," said Judy. 
 
 " Yes, and there was never a gift worth much 
 if the giver could not, and did not, love much. 
 This may seem strange, but it won't seem so to 
 you when you come to think about it. Now, 
 as to Kate, what made her so happy was this, 
 she loved so much, her heart was so generous 
 and kind. If it were really true, Judy, as some 
 people seem to think that to be happy one
 
 104 THE FRAGRANT ARTIFICIALS. 
 
 must needs have a very fine house to live in, and 
 very fine furniture about that house, grand 
 clothes to wear, and rich food to eat, and noth- 
 ing in all the world to do but walk about and 
 enjoy life, as they call it why, then this Kate 
 had a very poor chance at happiness. She must 
 certainly be very miserable. It was such a poor 
 place that she lived in. Nothing but a garret, 
 no carpet on the floor ; no paper on the wall ; 
 no pleasant books to read ; no comfortable fur- 
 niture to use ; no delicious food to eat ; no pleas- 
 ant prospect from the windows, indeed, the 
 little window was so high that even when Kate 
 stood upon a chair, she could hardly look 
 through it ! 
 
 "And then, as to agreeable companions 
 there they were in the room with her the poor 
 old father, who was wounded by an accident, so 
 that he has not been able to do any work at all 
 this winter, and little George, her half-brother, 
 whose mother as well as Kate's mother, is dead. 
 Poor child ! but he has fallen into good hands,
 
 THE FKAGKANT ARTIFICIALS. 105 
 
 Judy. Kate loves him dearly, and she calls him 
 her c baby boy.' So what do you think of this 
 garden where the flowers grow ? Are not the 
 artificials fragrant?" 
 
 Judy looked down, and she smiled, but there 
 were tears in her eyes. Presently she said, 
 hiding her face in her hands, 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Rose ! I was in such a pet because 
 I could n't have that splendid doll." 
 
 " But are not the artificials fragrant ? " said 
 Aunt Rose again. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And what makes them fragrant, Judy ? " 
 
 "The love of the maker, Aunty." 
 
 "Yes," said Rose, quite solemnly, while she 
 laid her hand gently on Judy's head. "And I 
 shall leave these flowers in a place where we can 
 often look at them, because, when we do look at 
 them, I think we shall remember little Kate, and 
 how industrious, and contented, and happy, and 
 loving, she is. I think that as long as they are 
 here in sight, and we can understand how fra- 
 E*
 
 106 THE FRAGRANT ARTIFICIALS. 
 
 grant they are, that we shall be apt to exert our- 
 selves more that we may make those about us 
 comfortable and happy. I think when we look 
 upon them we shall thank God for all his bles- 
 sings, and try in every way to make ourselves 
 more worthy of them. And I think, besides, 
 that when we see them here before us day after 
 day, we shall never be led into temptation, into 
 which snare we have sometimes fallen, I fear 
 I mean the temptation to look with silly pride 
 on the poor. For sometimes we think ourselves 
 above them, when in reality they may be far 
 better than we, though their garments be poor, 
 and their homes very humble. Judy, you will not 
 forget ? " 
 
 " But Was there really no other nurse for the 
 sick man and no other mamma for the little 
 ' baby boy ' but this poor Kate ? Are you sure, 
 Aunt Kose ? " 
 
 " As sure as can be. She has her hands full 
 that's true; but don't call Kate 'poor.' Her 
 heart is a great treasure, I tell you. As long as
 
 THE FRAGRANT ARTIFICIALS. 107 
 
 she has that, she is rich. Don't look so sur- 
 prised ; it is not gold, it is not silver that makes 
 a person rich, it is the good, brave, loving 
 heart. " 
 
 " I believe it, because you say so, Aunty ; but 
 it 's very strange." 
 
 " Some day," said Eose, " you '11 believe it, 
 because you will see with your own eyes that it 
 is true. You won't say then ' It 's very strange.' 
 You will thank God that he has ordered it to be 
 so with his children."
 
 i. 
 
 SHE was standing, quiet as a statue little 
 Deb ; but how red and heated she was ! 
 looking at something before her. It was lying 
 on the table, and not for an instant did she take 
 her eyes off it. 
 
 Not long ago you might have seen her racing 
 through the garden, on into the orchard, back 
 by the lane, and then on again through the gar- 
 den. She was in pursuit of a large butterfly. 
 Did she get it ? Look ! you see, she has the poor 
 captive pinned through the body to the table, 
 and little Deb has placed a glass bowl over it, so 
 that it may not escape. And now she is watch- 
 ing all its movements, and counting the rings on 
 its wings. Every time those wings are opened 
 wide, the poor fly has a sort of spasm ; but Deb
 
 THE BELL KIN GEES. 109 
 
 don't think of that she only says, " Oh ! that 's 
 fine now I can see nicely ! " Little she cares 
 for the pain of the butterfly ; all she wants is a 
 good sight at the slender body and the beauti- 
 ful wings. 
 
 Such a splendid butterfly ! the wings are 
 like velvet, and of the most lovely brown ; and 
 the rings upon them are red and black ; and the 
 eyes of the fly are like great beads. It is just 
 what Deborah has been longing for this long 
 time, so she brings her paint box, and brushes, 
 and card paper, and now she will have a butter- 
 fly, all of her own making. 
 
 So she works away with the paints and the 
 brush, and it never enters her head all this time 
 to think that the poor insect is in great misery. 
 
 Deb never thinks of anything except herself. 
 She may forget to do her duty, but she never 
 forgets to do whatever she desires to do, no mat- 
 ter whether it is right or wrong. The question 
 she asks herself when there is any work before 
 her is this " "Will it be pleasant? will it
 
 110 THE BELL BINGEBS. 
 
 amuse me?" and if she can answer her own 
 questions with a Yes, then she is always ready 
 enough to do it. Do you know any such girl ? 
 Is her name Deb ? No 1 "What is the name, 
 then? 
 
 The picture is only half finished then her 
 brother comes. it , 
 
 " Deborah ! I 'm going to the pond to fish 
 come with me hurry ! " 
 
 Away go the pencil, and brush, and paints 1 
 It is the greatest fun to fish ! so much pleas- 
 anter than painting butterflies. That 's what 
 Deb thinks to herself; and she forgets all about 
 the butterfly under the glass bowl, with the pin 
 through it. 
 
 At night they come in, tired and hungry. 
 They have had a grand time at the fishing pond ; 
 but all Deborah wants now is her tea, and then 
 for bed. Yes, she has forgotten all about the poor 
 captive butterfly. Nothing is truer than that ! 
 
 In the morning, however, it is the first thought 
 that enters her head ; and so impatient is Deb-
 
 THE BELL RINGERS. Ill 
 
 orah, that before she is half dressed she goes 
 flying down the back stairs into the play-house. 
 But behold ! the poor creature is DEAD ! And 
 what do you think the child does next ? Tears 
 up the picture she was making, and throws it 
 away. Then she pins the fly to the wall, and 
 there it hangs, and she cares no more about it, 
 though she has killed the beautiful creature that 
 took such delight flying about in the sunshine, 
 and sipping the honey from the cups of flowers ! 
 This is the child who, now that she is an old 
 woman, sits by her window and pulls the wire. 
 I don't know how many yards long it is. To 
 this wire a bell is attached, and when it is rung 
 the birds are frightened away from the fruit trees 
 in the orchard. Yes, she can find time to do this, 
 but if a poor beggar comes along, and begins to 
 tell her of his sad fortune, she says, " Go on ! I Ve 
 no time to hear" and then she rings the bell 
 violently. It seems almost a wonder that the sun 
 will ripen the fruit in that old woman's orchard.
 
 112 THE BELL EINGEES. 
 
 II. 
 
 It is old Peter ; lie is nearly a hundred years 
 old,- but he rings the bill through the streets 
 when there is to be an auction just as he used 
 to do fifty years ago. 
 
 He is beginning to show his age, he stoops 
 a great deal, and when he takes a step he seems 
 to make a sort of pause after it, as if he were 
 not quite certain that he could take another. 
 His hair is getting very gray, and his face, how 
 many wrinkles there are in it ! how deep they 
 are ! He does not speak as plainly as once ; his 
 voice falters, and his teeth are nearly all gone. 
 He was very stout and strong once ; he could 
 carry a barrel of flour from a wagon in the 
 street to a cellar near by. I have seen him do 
 it ; but he could no more do that now than he 
 could carry off a city full of buildings on his 
 shoulders. He is so thin that he looks almost 
 like a skeleton. I know he feels the weight of
 
 THE BELL RINGERS. 113 
 
 the bell which he carries in his hand, as he goes 
 crying " Auction, auction ! " through the street, 
 to be very heavy. 
 
 Peter was a slave once ; but when he was of 
 age his master gave him his liberty. For this 
 reason ? Peter, at the risk of his own life, saved 
 the life of little Edwin Collins and Edwin was 
 his master's only son. But though he was set 
 at liberty, and was a free man, and might go 
 anywhere he chose, and do as other free men do, 
 Peter remained with his old master as long as 
 the man lived. It was not till after his death 
 that the black man came up to us, and became 
 our auction bell-ringer. 
 
 He has no wife and no children they are all 
 dead long ago ; but the old man is not alone. 
 One night last winter Peter was awakened by a 
 loud cry, there was some one at his door. He 
 arose and looked out; it was a child, half fro- 
 zen, and half starved a poor little lost crea- 
 ture, that could not tell where he came from ; 
 and no one has ever been able to discover. 
 
 A
 
 114: THE BELL BINGEES. 
 
 The old man took the little stranger in. He 
 fed him from his table, and warmed him by his 
 fire, and laid him in his own warm bed. And 
 the child lives with him now. He is like a 
 white lily in Peter's home ; very soon he will 
 be able to go ringing the bell for the old man, 
 and Peter is teaching him, that he may do so. 
 But he has taught us our lesson already, a no- 
 ble one it is ; and whenever I hear any one say, 
 " If I were rich, it would be such a pleasure for 
 me to help the poor," I think of poor " old Peter," 
 and say to myself, " After all, one need not wait 
 till he is so very rich before he can help others, 
 if he did but know it ! " 
 
 III. 
 
 Tinkle! tinkle! tinkle I 
 
 It is the pet lamb whose fleece is white as 
 snow. It has a silver chain around its neck, and 
 that is the silver bell that tinkles so softly. 
 
 Last summer they had a great fright the chil
 
 THE BELL RINGERS. 115 
 
 dren who live up there in the mountain house ! 
 The pet lamb was lost. 
 
 Ella had wandered off with it into the woods. 
 She had gathered many flowers by the way, and 
 of these she intended to make a wreath for the 
 lamb's neck. But it happened that before she 
 half got through her work the child fell asleep, 
 and the lamb, instead of lying down beside her, 
 strayed away, and when Ella awakened it was 
 nowhere to be seen ! All that afternoon she 
 wandered up and down the woods, crying, 
 " Loo ! Loo ! " all along the brookside, down 
 into the valley, and up the hill-side ; now creep- 
 ing on her hands and knees among the bushes, 
 tearing her clothes, and tangling her hair with 
 them, calling " Loo ! Loo ! " until it became so 
 dark in the woods that she began to fear that 
 she herself would get lost. So she went back 
 by another path than that through which she 
 had come, tired and heated by her long search, 
 and grieving over the lost lamb as if her heart 
 would break.
 
 116 THE BELL RINGERS. 
 
 What would become of poor Loo ? alas ! if 
 she should fall down those steep, rocky places, 
 and break her leg, or her neck ! if any wild 
 beast should devour her ! or if she should wound 
 herself among the thorn bushes, or put her eyes 
 out ! or, more than all, if they should never 
 find poor Loo, either dead or alive again ! 
 
 Already the father and mother were greatly 
 alarmed, when it became so dark and Ella came 
 not home. They started out in search of their 
 child, but she met them just as they were about 
 to enter the forest. She looked like a wild girl, 
 and her father said " Ella must have seen a 
 goblin. Did you dance with the goblins, Ella ? " 
 
 All she could answer was, " Loo, Loo ! " and 
 she ran into her mother's arms, and wept there. 
 
 It did not take them long to understand what 
 had happened ; and then the father said 
 
 " You shall have Loo to-morrow, children. 
 I '11 turn the woods inside out, but you shall have 
 her." 
 
 They believed what he told them for what-
 
 THE BELL RINGERS. 117 
 
 ever lie said should happen did always come to 
 pass ; so that the children had learned to look 
 upon their father as a sort of good genius. They 
 therefore slept quietly and peacefully all night. 
 But before she slept, when Ella said her prayers, 
 she prayed to God that he would deliver the 
 pet lamb from all evil. 
 
 The next day the whole family went off into 
 the forest on the search for Loo. Up and down 
 they went, through all the paths, and where 
 there were no paths, until they all looked as if 
 they might have danced with goblins, but no 
 Loo was to be found. To himself the father 
 said, "Poor little thing it must indeed be 
 lost ; " but whenever he met one of his children 
 he cried, " Courage ! we shall certainly have her 
 soon ! and then we will let her know that it 
 is n't well behaved in a lamb, though she is a 
 pet lamb, and Loo in the bargain, to be turning 
 a family topsy-turvy in this way. I should n't 
 wonder if she got a good lesson." 
 
 But then the children, full of sorrow and pity,
 
 118 THE BELL KINGERS. 
 
 would say, " Oh father, don't ; for she has had 
 as great a fright as we have. Only think of her 
 being out here all alone through the night ! " 
 
 And to herself the mother would say, " The 
 dear children, this is their first sorrow. I wish 
 it might be spared them ; but it 's my be- 
 lief that we shall none of us ever see Loo 
 again." 
 
 But all at once there was a cry heard in the 
 forest, and they all ran off in the direction from 
 which the cry seemed to come. There sat Ella 
 on the ground, and a little dead lamb was lying 
 in her arms, and she was crying aloud, and say- 
 ing, " Oh, my darling is dead ? Loo is dead 
 dead!" 
 
 And they gathered around her, and the moth- 
 er wept silently ; for deep in her heart she felt 
 for the sorrow of her child. But the father 
 knelt down and turned the face of the lamb 
 to wards him, and he said "Yes, it is even so 
 the lamb is dead ; " but he smiled when he said 
 it Ella saw his smile, and an angry thought
 
 THE BELL E IN GEES 119 
 
 came into her heart ; she drew the lamb back 
 into her arms, and bowed her head over it. 
 
 Thus they all stood for a moment, when, 
 
 Tinkle! tinkle! tinkle! 
 
 They all heard it. 
 
 And behold, through the forest they saw a 
 little white object running along and it. came 
 towards them. It was not afraid it came 
 close up to Ella, and rubbed its nose upon her 
 arm. Instantly she leaped up, and the dead 
 lamb rolled over upon the ground, and it was 
 forgotten. 
 
 " Why, this is Loo ! " she cried. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said Fritz. " Where should 
 Loo get a silver chain for her neck, and a silver 
 bell? just look at that." 
 
 " And besides," said Frank, " see the flowers, 
 who would dress Loo out in that style ? " 
 
 "I," said Ella. 
 
 " Yes you would if you could, very likely 
 but could you ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Ella.
 
 120 THE BELL BINGEES. 
 
 " But, child," said Fritz, " don't you see the 
 chain and bell ? " 
 
 " Yes, to be sure." 
 
 " Where did they come from ? " 
 
 " That I don't know, Fritz, any more than 
 you ; but it 's Loo as sure as you live only 
 look her in the face ! " 
 
 " Father, what is it ? " said Fritz. 
 
 " Loo," replied the old man, solemnly. 
 
 " It 's her ghost," said Frank, laughing. 
 
 But what the mother did was this, she knelt 
 down and put her arms around the lamb's neck, 
 and kissed it. 
 
 And after that they all did the same. 
 
 Then they made a grave there in the wood, 
 and in it they laid the dead lamb ; and they 
 carried back the snow white lamb, that had the 
 silver bell fastened to it, neck, to their own 
 house, and softly the mother said in her heart, 
 
 " It was dead, and is alive again it was lost 
 and is found."
 
 THE BELL KIN GEES. 121 
 
 IY. 
 
 What a sharp, angry sound ! there 's not the 
 least music in it ! I looked out from my win- 
 dow it was the milk-man that was driving his 
 fine Arabian horse slowly along, and at every 
 step the bell that was attached to him gave that 
 ugly clang ! clang ! 
 
 The milk-man is proud of the steed ; and no 
 wonder, it is such a glorious beast. Look what 
 a gloss there is on his neck, and back, and sides 
 and then his mane and tail, how fine ! The horse 
 is proud of himself. How do I know that ? 
 why, he says as much every step he takes. How 
 high he carries his head ! and his feet touch 
 the ground as if he thought it were not quite 
 good enough for them. 
 
 He has served his master one or two not very 
 pleasant tricks. I saw him myself one day run- 
 ning away with the cart, and the milk was all 
 spilt when the cart was overturned at last. But 
 F
 
 122 THE BELL RINGERS. 
 
 for all that the man loves the horse, yes, I 
 mean loves him likes is not the word. He 
 loves the beast, and would not sell him for a 
 fortune. 
 
 But as to Lightning that is his name, I 
 cannot say as much for him. I think that if he 
 loves anything, it is the great sandy desert of 
 Arabia, and the wild man who every night led 
 the steed into his own tent, and made a bed for 
 him just as if Lightning were a human creature, 
 like himself. I am sure he has no great affec- 
 tion for the cart he drags around after him ; and 
 as for the bell that goes clang ! clang ! when- 
 ever he steps, I am quite sure he hates it. 
 
 Because the bell keeps saying to him, " Trot 
 along ! ding, dong ! trot along ! " and the horse 
 feels that as keenly as he would the milk-man's 
 whip to think of the bell's presuming to say 
 such things to him ! 
 
 They have made a beast of burden of him. 
 Yes, he feels all that ; and I can read it in his 
 eyes. He is too proud to make any answer to
 
 THE BELL RINGERS. 123 
 
 the bell, he says to himself, "I have fallen 
 very low. Once I went where I would, and 
 was as free as the wind. I flew over the sands 
 as fleet as a bird moves through the air. Now, in 
 this cold, dreary region, I drag my burden after 
 me, walking up and down the street, and the 
 bell never stops its talk. But let it get an an- 
 swer if it can. I should like to have the bell 
 get an answer from me ! And these beasts that 
 fill the street they are thinking too, I dare say, 
 that we are all brothers ; but my brothers are 
 all in the desert ! Alas, I am a slave, and they 
 do not know it." 
 
 And when I have read all this, and more, in 
 the eyes of the beautiful steed, I have seen him 
 lift high his head, and a loud, skill cry would 
 break from him,' a hundred times louder than 
 the voice of the bell. And I always knew that 
 this was the voice of his grief, and rage and 
 pride. I believe his pride will be the death of 
 the poor Arabian, some day.
 
 124 THE BELL BINGERS. 
 
 Y. 
 
 It is a careless hand drawing the rope that 
 swings the bell up in the belfry of the old stone 
 Court House. Sam is paid for the trouble : he 
 has a hundred other things to do to-day : it is 
 now only nine o'clock, and already he has been 
 at work five hours, and he will work more than 
 a dozen more before he is through and can sleep 
 again. 
 
 As he pulls the rope he thinks of the hundred 
 things to do, and looks at his watch, there ! 
 his work up here is over, it is five minutes 
 since he began to ring, and he clambers down 
 the belfry stairs, and hurries away. The Judge 
 solemnly goes in and takes his place, while the 
 people crowd into the court room, and the pris- 
 oner, guarded by the constables, comes to be 
 tried for murder ! When the Judge heard the 
 bell he looked troubled when the people heard 
 it they ran hurriedly to the court room when
 
 TJIE BELL RINGERS. 125 
 
 the prisoner heard it he turned pale and trem- 
 bled, and said, " God help me ! " 
 
 But the bell-ringer went his way whistling, to 
 gather vegetables for the great court dinner at 
 the hotel that day. 
 
 YI. 
 
 The old man Simeon, stands up in the belfry 
 of the church they call the church St. John's 
 he leans against the green blinds of the tower, 
 and as he rings the great bell, (it has the sweet- 
 est tone you ever heard !) he looks down into the 
 street, and watches the people come in. 
 
 He is dressed in his best. You would not 
 mistake him for a very fine gentleman, but he 
 looks well in the pastor's half- worn black coat, 
 and the new black vest and neck-cloth his 
 daughter Susan bought for him on his last birth- 
 day. His heart is in his eyes as he looks down 
 through the blind into the street below. He 
 does not show much interest while the fine car-
 
 126 THE BELL BINGEBS. 
 
 riages are driven up, and the rich people alight, 
 and, arrayed in all their splendor, walk into the 
 holy place. He does not think it strange that 
 they come so proudly in their state to worship 
 the -Son of Mary the meek and lowly man who 
 was born in a manger who lived among fish- 
 ermen, and feasted with publicans and sinners. 
 He does not think it odd, though I dare say he 
 would if he thought about it at all. !N"o he 
 is not looking at these ; nor even at the children 
 of the Sunday school, as they come up the walk 
 together, until he sees his own dear child among 
 them, and then a soft smile spreads over his old 
 face. For dearly he loves little Prue. But look 
 now how the smile deepens ! 
 
 A little group is passing through the gate ; 
 does not the bell give out a sweeter sound than 
 bell ever did before ? 
 
 It is an aged woman, leaning on a younger 
 woman's arm, and a young man carrying in his 
 arms a little white figure ah, well the old man 
 understands all that I It is his grand-child's
 
 THE BELL RINGERS. 127 
 
 christening day; and Joseph and Susan have 
 given at home, and will give before all the peo- 
 ple this morning, old Simeon's name to the little 
 one. If the bell was tolled less solemnly than 
 usual this day if the old sexton left the belfry 
 before half the grand people had started for the 
 church you understand what it all meant. 
 His old wife knew very well when he came 
 down and took his place beside her in their pew, 
 next the great door of the church ; and peering 
 at him through her spectacles she says, " He looks 
 as handsome as he did the day I married him." 
 A stupid person might say that love had made 
 her blind. But I think she had a pair of first- 
 rate eyes in her head.
 
 %\t ^rHw in 
 
 IK the first place let me tell you for of jour- 
 self you would never find it out at one end 
 of the village is a swamp. I say you would not 
 find it out of yourself, because the bushes of the 
 swamp have grown so tall that they look almost 
 like trees ; and there are also some trees not 
 many, but these are of large size, scattered over 
 the place. 
 
 The bushes are " huckle-berry," and in sum- 
 mer time, when they are covered with ripe fruit, 
 the swamp is visited by a great many people, 
 who gather the berries and sell them. 
 
 A narrow road runs along on the border of 
 the swamp ; it was never much traveled. As 
 to Clara, she had never been that way either on 
 foot, or in sleigh, or in carriage. 
 
 Clara was now ten years old, and it was late
 
 THE ROBIN IN THE SWAMP. 129 
 
 in the winter. She sat by the window, wishing. 
 This was a great shame, yet she would not have 
 believed it if you had told her so. For she did 
 not know herself. What hard work it is for a 
 person to become really acquainted with him- 
 self! 
 
 Yesterday there was but one thing in the wide 
 world wanting to make her happy. If the birds 
 would only come back ! True, it was too early 
 for them to begin to build their nests but if 
 they would only come, though they made but a 
 day's visit in the village, what a comfort it would 
 be ! There were the pigeons, but one could 
 see them at any time. There were her pets in 
 the cage, but these were not what she wanted. 
 It was to see the free, out-door birds to harken 
 while they filled the air with the melody of 
 their songs to watch them as they flew from 
 branch to branch of the great elm tree, and the 
 maple tree beside it. The day before yesterday 
 she had wished this v wish aloud many times. 
 It was a warm, bright day, and her mother had 
 
 F* 9
 
 130 THE EOBIK IN THE SWAMP. 
 
 said it was her belief that they should have no 
 more snow that season. And lo, that very night 
 snow fell nearly a foot deep ! 
 
 Oh, what a world what a world ! Clara 
 said ; nothing- ever happened as it should ! As 
 to the birds, there was no use of looking for 
 them any longer of course they never would 
 come not even the robins, no, not even the 
 robins! And why should they come? she 
 asked. What was there to tempt them up into 
 that dreary, frozen region ? If birds really had 
 any wisdom they would stay where they were, 
 in the warm, sunny, delightful south, and not 
 risk their lives and voices by coming up into 
 that desolate country, where there certainly 
 was as little comfort and enjoyment to be had, 
 as one could expect to find at the north pole ! 
 
 All this complaint Clara made aloud but 
 she little thought that one was near who" heard 
 it all. She said it aloud ; but that she would 
 never have done, had she not believed she was 
 alone.
 
 THE KOBIN IN THE SWAMP. 131 
 
 In the afternoon Clara had quite forgotten 
 about yesterday's wish, and this morning's wish. 
 She was standing at the parlor window, looking 
 out. While she stood there a lady went by. Oh, 
 she was splendid ! with her gay pink bonnet, 
 and furs, and the beautiful, beautiful velvet dress ! 
 Ah, why could not she be a woman at once, 
 without all the tedious delay ? "Why must peo- 
 ple ever be so helpless, and little, as Oliver in 
 the nursery, who could not speak a single word ? 
 Why must they go through all that tiresome 
 work of s.tudy at school, and at hme, and grow 
 up so slowly ? 
 
 Oh, what a world ! what a world ! 
 
 And when the lady half stopped in the street 
 just before the house, Clara saw her look at her 
 watch ; and then she looked up at the window 
 where the little girl stood ; and would you ever 
 believe it ? tears actually started into Clara's 
 eyes ! Oh, if papa would only giVe Tier such a 
 watch ! And then, when she looked down and 
 saw how plainly she herself was dressed, Clara
 
 132 THE EOBIN IN THE SWAMP.'. 
 
 was horror struck. Quickly she pulled the cur- 
 tain before her. Could it be that the lady had 
 seen the old red frock and the plain linen apron ? 
 Oh, misery ! 
 
 After that Clara went and sat down by the 
 fire-place, and what do you suppose she wished 
 for then ? Why, that she were only old enough 
 to have a house of her own, to be rich, to be 
 married, and to have beautiful gay clothes ! 
 Ah ! she would never wear a plain linen apron 
 and an old red frock in those days that was 
 very certain. She would have a vel\^t dress, 
 and a gay hat, and splendid furs! Yes, cer- 
 tainly and a thousand other things. 
 
 And so she thought, and thought, until sud- 
 denly there came a sound of sleigh bells, so near 
 that Clara was quite startled. Again she ran to 
 the window. There sat her father, and the 
 instant he saw her he beckoned her to come out 
 and ride with him. In two minutes more she 
 was sitting beside him in the sleigh. Crack ! 
 and away they went.
 
 THE ROBIN IN THE SWAMP. 133 
 
 It had stopped snowing. How pure and white 
 the great 'drifts lay by the side of the road where 
 the wind piled them last night, how blue the 
 sky was, and how clear the air! It whiffed 
 away all the idle things Clara had been dream- 
 ing by the fireside. 
 
 It was up by the swamp that they went. That 
 was a lonely road, why should they go off in 
 that direction where there was nothing to be 
 seen ? Why could they not go where the 
 people were, down through the street ? If the 
 road were well broken she would not care, but 
 only one sleigh had been that way since the last 
 snow fell. What could it mean that her father 
 chose this ugly road ? 
 
 As they came to the dark bushy wood, Clara 
 began to complain aloud, and to say, " "What 
 did make you choose this road, father? " 
 
 He did not answer her at first nor did he 
 seem to hear her, for his eyes were turned 
 away from her, and wandering in the direction 
 of the gloomy swamp. At length he said,
 
 134 TH^ ROBIN IN THE SWAMP. 
 
 " Open your eyes wide, Clara ; now what do 
 you see ? " 
 
 Yery wide she opened her eyes. 
 
 "Why, father, is that a robin, here in the 
 midst of all this snow ? " 
 
 " What do you think about it ? " asked he. 
 
 " It looks like one, " she answered, and her face 
 began to look as if she were recalling slowly all 
 she had said yesterday such foolish, wicked 
 stuff. 
 
 "And what does that look like, Clara?" he 
 asked, raising his whip and cracking it toward 
 the swamp ; and as he did so a great multitude 
 of birds started off on the wing for the wood. 
 " That is what you wished for yesterday ; see, 
 what a host of birds, all robins, too ! And all 
 living through the whole winter, not half a mile 
 from your own home ! I wonder if you have 
 been wishing for anything to-day, my child ? " 
 
 Clara did not answer she hid her face in- 
 stead. If there were any tears in her eyes 
 now, you may rely upon it, they were" not such
 
 THE KOBIN IN THE SWAMP. 135 
 
 tears as she shed in the morning, when she wish- 
 ed she were only a .woman nor such as she 
 shed yesterday, when she was wishing that the 
 birds would only come. I think that sleigh-ride 
 did her good. If it did not, more 5 s the pity !
 
 place was like a garden, though no one 
 thought to call it so, except a poet. The 
 month was June, and all the white rose trees 
 were in blossom. The grass had been newly 
 cut ; and never were the alanthus and willow 
 trees more beautiful than now for the sum- 
 mer dust had not yet lodged upon and soiled 
 their fresh green leaves. In a cornor of a grave- 
 yard it was a grave-yard, though the poet 
 called it a garden was a flower-bed. That 
 was what it looked like, though in reality the 
 mound was a grave, and the pinks, and violets, 
 and moss, and verbena, and heliotrope, which 
 grew upon the mound, were planted there by 
 sorrowful hearts, and tears were shed there like 
 the dew. 
 This place was separated from the rest of the
 
 THE GABDEN. 137 
 
 burial-ground by a hedge of cedar and hemlock 
 bushes. Except this hedge, all the plants had 
 been placed here recently. A month ago no 
 mound was to be seen in this portion of the bu- 
 rial-ground; and the plants flowering upon 
 the grave were in another sort of garden ; 
 and she who was buried there had walked about 
 in that garden, and watched the flowers unfold- 
 ing. Much she loved them. 
 
 Now she is dead and this young girl that 
 comes over the style, and walks along so quietly, 
 as if she were half afraid, has come' to the place 
 where the lady, who was her mother, is buried. 
 Her hands are full of flowers, and these she 
 places on the grave. See ! it looks like a great 
 bouquet lying there upon the ground. And she 
 sits down the little, motherless girl ! and 
 leans her head upon her hand. She has come 
 to think of the dead. 
 
 It is so lonely now at home she has wished 
 many, many times, that she might also creep 
 into that grave, and lie down beside her mother,
 
 138 THE GARDEN. 
 
 as she used to do. If she might- only hear that 
 dear friend saying once more, " My darling 
 child!" 
 
 At home, np in the village, her brothers play 
 as noisily and gaily as ever, no one would 
 suppose that they had met with a great loss, 
 and Sally works away after the same old fash- 
 ion, and papa attends to his books and business. 
 No one seems to think that the home is less 
 comfortable, less pleasant, less cheerful than it 
 was a month ago. They all bear the loss very 
 well. There is something to comfort and occu- 
 py them all except poor Jane; she can do 
 nothing but think of her mother, and then she 
 gathers the flowers and carries them off to the 
 burial-ground. The gardener says nothing, but 
 he has looked rather cross of late, as if, did he 
 not feel so sorry for her, he would say that she 
 was spoiling the garden with gathering so many 
 bouquets. 
 
 Last Sunday the father came here witfy his 
 children and much he talked with them about
 
 THE GARDEN. 139 
 
 their mother; and he charged them to never 
 forget her, but always to think of her as alive, 
 because she really was alive, though she had 
 gone to another country, and they would never 
 see her anywhere on earth again. Yery tenderly 
 the father spoke, and all thje while he held little 
 Jane by the hand, and the boys stood by the 
 grave and wept. 
 
 But when they left the grave-yard they seemed 
 to forget where they had been, and what they 
 had seen, for they laughed and talked the 
 boys did all the way home about what they 
 would do with themselves and Nep (Nep was 
 their dog,) to-morrow. And the father, too, had 
 forgotten, Jane said to herself, for he began to 
 talk about her studies, and to say that he thought 
 she must begin to go to school again. 
 
 Jane went directly into her room when she 
 reached home. There she sat down to think 
 upon her mother to recall her loving words, 
 and tender acts of kindness " But," she said, 
 while she wept bitterly at the thought, "none
 
 140 THE GARDEN. 
 
 of them care ; before the year is out they will 
 forget all about her. I loved her best of all ; 
 and I ain the only one that really cares about 
 it." And there was pride as well as grief in 
 Jane's tears, you may know that *by her 
 reflections. / . 
 
 And this pride, alas ! only grew stronger and 
 stronger not less and less the more Jane 
 thought upon her own grief, and compared it 
 with that her father and the boys felt, on ac- 
 count of the death of her mother. 
 
 You will say this was a strange sort of pride. 
 I think so too ; yet it was what Jane really felt. 
 But you will recollect that pride is like a cha- 
 meleon it presents itself in every imaginable 
 hue. As long as the heart is not freed from it 
 as long as it remains like a prisoner there it 
 will be forever showing itself, and making itself 
 heard. If it speaks, it speaks evil ; if it is silent, 
 the silence is not good. Unhappy heart, so long 
 as pride remains in it ! Unhappy heart ! for it 
 is said that God holds the proud afar off; and
 
 THE GARDEN. 14:1 
 
 we all know that they alone are happy to whom 
 God is near. 
 
 Jane resolved that she would never go into 
 the burial-ground again, either with her broth- 
 ers or her father, she would go there alone 
 and think in silence, and deck the grave by 
 herself. 
 
 There came a day, however, when she was not 
 allowed to remain alone. Not that any of her 
 own house came down to weep, and to think 
 with her; but another child a little girl 
 was passing by that way, and seeing the beauti- 
 ful flowers on the grave, she climbed over the 
 style, and went along the garden paths, until she 
 came to the place where Jane was. 
 
 How unlike they were two children, and 
 both girls, yet so unlike ! The little stranger was 
 poor. How do I know ? her dress showed it, 
 and she was a foreigner besides an Irish girl. 
 Her eyes told a good story of her. They said 
 that she had a kind and gentle heart, as they 
 looked from the grave to Jane, and from Jane
 
 THE GARDEN. 
 
 to the grave, so quietly, so sadly as much as to 
 say, " I am very sorry for you." 
 
 Her eyes were blue, and her voice was gentle. 
 These things made me think of the angels ; yet 
 I dare say not many people thought the Irish 
 girl angelic ! but she made me think of them 
 for the skies are blue, and we know that the 
 angels are beyond there. We cannot see them 
 those angels but we know they are there. 
 
 " Who is buried here ? " asked the stranger. 
 
 Jane looked up quickly when she heard the 
 voice. Until then she had supposed that she 
 was alone. 
 
 The first thing she thought was 
 
 " What a fright ! What business has this emi- 
 grant girl to be speaking to me ? She may wait 
 for an answer till she gets it." 
 
 So Jane turned away and said nothing. She 
 kept a proud silence. She thought the girl 
 would go away ; but after a while, seeing that 
 she did not go, Jane looked at her again, as 
 much as to say, " What are you staying for ? "
 
 THE GARDEN. 14:3 
 
 But the girl's eyes were fixed upon the grave, and 
 so strange was the expression of her face, that 
 Jane could not help saying, 
 
 " What are you thinking of? " 
 
 " My mother," answered the stranger. 
 
 " What of her ? " said Jane and this question 
 was asked in a very different way from the 
 other. 
 
 " I wish I might lay flowers on her grave." 
 
 " Is she dead ? " 
 
 "Yes she is dead." 
 
 " And where is her grave, then ? " 
 
 "In the ocean." 
 
 " The ocean ! " exclaimed Jane. " What ! in 
 the Atlantic Ocean?" 
 
 " Yes and she was buried in a storm." 
 
 " Oh, how could you ! " 
 
 " The mate and the sailors did it, she had 
 the fever." 
 
 "What did you do then? your father was 
 with you?" 
 
 "He died first."
 
 144 THE GARDEN. 
 
 " Then your brother lie was with you ? " 
 
 " I was alone. I have no brother and sister.- 
 There were only us three." 
 
 " Oh ! I should have thought you would have 
 died too," cried Jane. 
 
 " I could n't. I would if I could. Who did 
 you say is buried here ? " 
 
 " My mother," answered Jane, quickly 
 ashamed to think of what had kept her from 
 replying when the girl asked it before. 
 
 " There is only one grave. Then you have 
 all the rest alive." 
 
 " Yes there is papa, and Willie, and Gideon, 
 at ht>me. And papa says that our mother is not 
 dead that she has gone to another country, 
 and we shall see her again." 
 
 " Yes I know, if we act right," said the girl. 
 "It 'sin heaven they are your mamma and 
 mine. It 's good to be there." 
 
 " Would n't you be afraid " Jane began to 
 say, but she stopped before she had fairly asked 
 the question.
 
 THE QAKDEN. 14:5 
 
 " To die ? afraid to die, do you mean ? No, 
 I 'm more afraid to live : for who knows ? 
 I may be tempted, and do some evil thing, on 
 account of which I shall never get into heaven. 
 That is what I pray for to be kept from temp- 
 tation. Do you?" 
 
 "Yes," answered Jane. But she had nevei 
 in her life prayed so heartily and earnestly as 
 she was doing at that moment. 
 
 And I think that as she walked out from that 
 garden, hand in hand with the emigrant girl, 
 and told her to come there whenever she would 
 like to, and to think about her mother who was 
 buried in the ocean, there I think that it may 
 be the two mothers, who loved our dear Lord 
 on earth, looked down and smiled a blessing on 
 their children, who were praying in their hearts 
 at that moment to the Saviour. 
 
 I think, besides, that the proud thought which 
 Jane had thought, as if she were the only 
 mourner in her father's house, was rooted from 
 her heart when she went home that day. 
 ft Id
 
 146 THE GARDEN. 
 
 It was noon, and very warm, and Gideon was 
 lying in the hall upon the lounge, asleep, as 
 Jane went in at the front door. She stood a 
 moment looking at him. He was talking in his 
 sleep tears were streaming from his eyelids, 
 and what he said in his sleep was this " Oh 
 mother ! mother ! do not go do not leave me 
 alone ; " and he sobbed heavily. 
 
 He said this and all the while Jane had 
 been accusing him in her heart, and saying to 
 herself that they had all forgotten that dear 
 mother except herself! 
 
 Then later in the day, when she stood on the 
 piazza, the silence all at once was broken. She 
 heard a low voice, and at first she could not tell 
 where it was ; but as she listened it grew louder 
 and more distinct it was her father praying ; 
 and these were the words that fell upon her 
 ear "Help me, oh God! Thou hast taken 
 away the friend of my heart, the companion of 
 my life, the mother of my children ! help me 
 that all my duty towards those children may be
 
 THE GARDEN. 147 
 
 done ; that at last in heaven we may be united 
 to her who has gone before us." And many 
 other words of the prayer she heard. He asked 
 that his sorrow might not make him selfish, 
 proud, hard-hearted and he was weeping while 
 he prayed. This was her father ! and Jane had 
 said to herself that none remembered or wept 
 for the loss of her mother none but herself! 
 Oh, poor child ! little she knew what had been 
 in the hearts of the rest of the household. But 
 she knew it all now. And in her grief for her 
 lost mother, she never shed bitterer tears than 
 she shed now, when she reflected on the pride 
 and selfishness of her own sorrow.
 
 ftrmrqjet 
 
 ANOTHER STOEY OF THE CEOSS. 
 
 A MA2T built a summer-house in the middle of 
 -^- his garden and he planted vine roots at th$ 
 four corners, and they all died but one. 
 
 That same summer the man himself died ; and 
 in the autumn his widow and her son went away 
 on a long journey and they were gone four years. 
 
 The garden was left in charge of a man and a 
 fairy. Yes, it was a fairy, as well as a man, that 
 had the charge, though nobody knew anything 
 about that, for the fairy took her part in the 
 business without any invitation. Fairies are 
 not governed by the laws of fashionable society. 
 When they wish to do a good deed, they do it 
 without waiting for an invitation. And they 
 don't run about to tell all the world of the good 
 they mean to perform, either. They go to work 
 at once to do it.
 
 THE TRUMPET FLOWEB. 149 
 
 But the gardener had the idea that lie was the 
 sole manager of the place. He was a very good 
 man, but he was ignorant, and knew nothing 
 about fairies. He had a deal of taste, however. 
 He could tell how the flower beds might be laid 
 out with the best effect, and what style of blos- 
 soms looked best together ; also, he was very 
 neat in his habits, and it was a daring weed that 
 ventured to show its face in any of those gar- 
 den walks that were under his charge. 
 
 There was only one vine root- that lived, of the 
 four that the owner of the garden planted at the 
 corners of the summer-house. Great care the man 
 took of this plant great skill he showed in train- 
 ing it for he spread the branches about over the 
 frame-work in such a manner, that as it grew it 
 could not help covering the whole of the lattice 
 work. 
 
 One night he had gone into the garden for 
 it was there that he spent his leisure, as well as 
 his working hours. He was standing by the 
 tool house at the end of the longest walk, and
 
 150 THE TBUMPET FLOWER. 
 
 his eyes were fixed upon that famous vine, its 
 dark, rich green leaves, and beautiful red flowers. 
 
 " Wonderful ! " he exclaimed in his delight 
 " never did a vine grow like that ! But it 's all 
 owing to the care it has had. If I 'm a living 
 man, I 've done my duty by that vine." 
 
 "Yes," said a voice, it was the voice of the 
 fairy that was standing beside him, "- that 's 
 the truth ; but . don't you think it could be 
 improved ? " 
 
 " The vine ? " exclaimed the gardener, as if 
 he were amazed that any one should imagine it 
 could be improved. 
 
 " Yes, the vine it 's appearance, I mean." 
 
 "I don't understand," said the gardener, 
 coldly, in a tone of great displeasure. 
 
 " Let me explain, if you don't understand," 
 said the fairyj half laughing; for she thought it 
 very stupid in the gardener to get into a huff 
 the moment any one ventured to suggest an im- 
 provement. " That round shape is too old- 
 fashioned."
 
 THE TRUMPET FLOWEK. 151 
 
 " Old-fashioned ! old-fashioned ! " lie said sharp- 
 ly. " Well, I hope it 's none the worse for that ! " 
 
 "None the worse but none the better 
 and not so pretty as it might be, Mr. Gardener. 
 Now, I leave it to your own good sense, and 
 excellent taste, don't you think the summer 
 house would be greatly improved, if its shape 
 were slightly altered? " 
 
 She spoke very respectfully, and the man could 
 not help asking, " How could it be altered ? " 
 
 "You can make some little ornament of wood, 
 you know, and then train the vine around it. 
 Just try it and see, and if you don't like it, why 
 nobody would be so foolish as to dispute your 
 taste, Mr. Gardener." 
 
 " But what sort of an ornament ? " asked the 
 gardener, somewhat softened, and in a fair way 
 of being convinced by the fairy's delicate com- 
 pliments. 
 
 " What is the name of the vine ? " asked she, 
 as if she really did not remember. But this 
 only proved that the fairy had all her wits about
 
 152 THE TRUMPET FLOWER. 
 
 her, because she knew that when Mr. Gardener 
 spoke the name, he would of himself, without 
 any further assistance, think of the ornament 
 that would be most fit and proper. 
 
 " Trumpet flower," he answered. 
 
 And the fairy said, " Well," as if she folly 
 expected him to go on. But the gardener, instead 
 of making any further remark, walked off toward 
 the summer house, and there he sat down to 
 think of what the fairy had said. For he was 
 not so quick-witted as some other people. And 
 he did not get through with his thinking on the 
 subject that day no, nor the next day, nor the 
 next. 
 
 But the week after you see it all happened 
 at last just as the fairy believed it would the 
 week after, if you had walked past that garden, 
 you would have seen a cross perched on the mid- 
 dle of the roof of the summer house. It was, 
 indeed, a great improvement. So the gardener 
 thought after it was all done, and he had looked 
 at his work from everp point of the garden.
 
 THETKTJMPET FLOWEK. 153 
 
 " That fairy's acquaintance must be worth cul- 
 tivating," he said ; and he thought that when he 
 was again at leisure, he would have a long con- 
 versation with her on the art of gardening. It 
 was such a capital idea she had suggested that 
 of training the trumpet flower vine around a 
 cross ! Can you guess why ? 
 
 The very night after the cross was fixed in its 
 place on the summer house, the widow and her 
 son returned from their travels. No one ex- 
 pected them no one, therefore, of all the 
 workmen employed about the place, was so well 
 prepared to render in an account of their stew- 
 ardship, as the old gardener. Him, and his 
 enjoyment of the surprise, it was really delight- 
 ful to see. But the rest of the people were in a 
 sad predicament. 
 
 If you had looked in upon the returned trav- 
 elers an hour after their arrival, you would have 
 found the widow in her chamber, on her knees, 
 weeping weeping for joy and thankfulness 
 that they were returned in safety at last. But 
 G*
 
 154: THE TRUMPET FLOWEK. 
 
 nowhere in all the house could you have found 
 the son. 
 
 "Where was he ? in the beautiful garden. 
 
 Why was he there? What tempted him? 
 The moonlight. 
 
 And nothing but the moonlight ? Yes ; the 
 fairy had a hand in it a voice in it, I mean. 
 
 Well, and what else? He saw the cross. 
 
 Well ? He heard the fairy. 
 
 And what beside ? She taught him a more 
 important lesson than he had learned in all his 
 wanderings. 
 
 What lesson ? That the cross is more to be de- 
 sired than the crown that it is a blessing, not a 
 burden. For, this was just what she said to him. 
 
 He had thrown himself full length upon the 
 bench within the arbor twice he had done 
 that already, and twice had he risen, that he 
 might see if in reality it was a cross that the 
 gardener had placed upon the top of the sum- 
 mer house. Now the third time that he lay 
 down, the fairy came to him.
 
 . THE TKTJMPET FLOWER. 155 
 
 " So you are back again," she said, speaking 
 to him as if he were an old, familiar friend. He 
 was not surprised to hear her you would have 
 thought it was exactly what he expected that 
 she should come and speak to him in that way. 
 
 "Yes," he replied "home again at last." 
 
 " Are you glad ? " asked she. 
 
 " Glad, and not glad." 
 
 "Why glad?" 
 ."I'm tired of travel." 
 
 "And why not?" 
 
 " I don't know what to do with myself next." . 
 
 " Are you tired of sight- seeing ? " 
 
 " Yes but why do you ask ? " 
 
 " I might show you a sight." 
 
 "Pray show it ; " " if you please," he added 
 and that was an unusual addition for him to 
 make, he was not in the habit of entreating but 
 of commanding ; though so young a lad, he was 
 willful, and bent on having his own way in all 
 things. 
 
 Behold, then."
 
 156 THE TRUMPET FLOWEB. 
 
 And the boy beheld. 
 
 "It is a battle-field," He said, and his eye 
 flashed " there will be a splendid fight." 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 " This is very strange," said this boy ; ev- 
 idently he could not understand it. " They carry 
 no swords the drums do not beat they have 
 no trumpets is it a battle-field ? " 
 
 " Yes but what is it that you see ? " 
 
 ' Children, and old men, and young men, and 
 women all is confusion." 
 
 " It is the world," said the fairy. 
 
 " And what is that altar ? "' 
 
 " It is an altar." 
 
 " Yes but what may it mean? " 
 
 " The soldiers make their offerings there be- 
 fore they enlist in the great army." 
 
 " What army ? " asked the boy 
 
 "Do you not perceive? the army of the 
 cross." 
 
 " Ah ! yes ; they sacrifice at the altar, and 
 then receive their badge."
 
 THE TRUMPET FLOWER. 157 
 
 " That is true. Observe now, there is an offer- 
 ing to be made." 
 
 " Yes," said the boy, almost breathless with 
 wonder. 
 
 "And you can understand it ? " asked the fairy. 
 
 " Yes," he answered, in a softened tone. 
 
 "And the children also sacrifice?" he said 
 presently, wondering more and more. 
 
 " They also sacrifice," repeated she " and ob- 
 serve, it is a light cross that is given them to bear. 
 See how courageo.us, yet how meek they are." 
 
 " But," said the boy, speaking very rapidly, 
 " the gifts are not always left upon the altar ! 
 Some of the soldiers, as you call them, carry 
 them away again." 
 
 " Ah," said the fairy, " but they take the cross 
 also with them, do they not ? " 
 
 " Yes, it is even so," he answered, astonished. 
 " There is an artist ! and he carries his paints, 
 and canvas, and brushes, away with him ; and 
 another who takes his harp, and and a multitude, 
 who all carry with them what they brought."
 
 158 THE TRUMPET FLOWEB. 
 
 " Yet all these bear a cross, also, from the 
 altar ? " asked the fairy again 
 
 "Yes, all." 
 
 "Which shows that their gift is sanctified. 
 Now look at those who will not come up with 
 an offering to the multitude that bear no 
 
 cross." 
 
 * 
 
 The boy looked. " There are none such," he 
 said presently. 
 
 " Indeed," the fairy exclaimed, as if she could 
 hardly believe that. 
 
 " They have a heavier burden to bear," he 
 sighed, at length, after he had looked, and 
 thought about it for a long time. 
 
 " Tell me the name of that burden." 
 
 "It is their SIN?" 
 
 " Yes ! It is their darling sin. Harken ! " 
 
 He listened, and he heard a voice sweeter 
 than an angel's, crying, " Take my yoke upon 
 you and my burden, for it is light ! Come unto 
 me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and 
 I will give you rest I " And the voice seemeci
 
 THE TRUMPET FLOWER. 159 
 
 to come from the high cross before which stood 
 the altar, where the sacrifices were made. 
 
 And the boy looked to see if there were any 
 that refused to obey that wondrous call, and 
 afar, in the midst of a restless, struggling crowd, 
 he saw a face and a figure that he had often 
 seen before. He knew it better, more thoroughly 
 than any face and figure in the world. And in 
 his heart he trembled and wept, for the face was 
 turned away from the altar, and the figure did 
 not bear that emblem which the soldiers of tho 
 cross bore. He saw all this, and he groaned 
 aloud but the fairy now was silent. So he 
 watched and waited ; oh, in what fear and trem- 
 bling, until at last, oh Joy ! the figure turned, 
 it moved away from the noisy crowd, it ran 
 it ran as if death were pursuing it, and be- 
 hold ! it bowed before the altar and the cross, 
 and the sacrifice that he laid upon the altar was 
 consumed, the fire from heaven fell and de- 
 voured it. 
 
 And if the fairy were by his side when the
 
 160 THE TRUMPET FLO WEE. 
 
 boy arose and went in to his mother, I know 
 not. But if she were, then she also must have 
 heard him when he told her that henceforth he 
 also was a Soldier of the Cross. That he had 
 sacrificed upon the altar of repentance, and 
 faith, his cherished, his darling Sin. 
 
 So you see how it was that the gardener was 
 the means of accomplishing a great and a good 
 thing, when he placed the ornament in the 
 shape of the cross on the summit of the sum- 
 mer-house. A loud voice speaking through a 
 trumpet could not have been heard more dis- 
 tinctly than that blessed voice the young lad 
 heard resounding through his soul. 
 
 Eeader, is there anywhere in the garden of 
 your heart, room for an arbor, and a vine, and a 
 symbol, like this I have told about ? Oh ! if 
 there be, and you sometimes hear a Yoice speak- 
 ing to you, be sure you pay good heed to it ; 
 and so may God love you !
 
 University of California 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 Box 951388 
 
 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388 
 
 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed.
 
 P26 Chesebro* - 
 Ci;25 1 The little 
 croww-bearers > 
 
 AA 000475239 
 
 PZ6