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 BESSIE AT SCHOOL.
 
 BESSIE 
 AT SCHOOL 
 
 BY JOANNA H. MATTHEWS 
 
 AUTHOR OF "BESSIE ON HER TRAVELS," 
 "BESSIE AT THE SEASIDE," "BESSIE 
 AMONG THE MOUNTAINS," "BESSIE 
 AND HER FRIENDS," "BESSIE IN THE 
 CITY," ETC. 
 
 I llu s t rated 
 
 Boston : D E WOLFE, FISKE 
 AND COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year iS6q 
 
 BY ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States 
 for the Southern District of New York 
 
 Bessie at School
 
 TO 
 
 Sunbeam of our Sngfji 
 
 MV HSTKB GKBTBUD*.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 | HE author had intended that " Bessie 
 among the Mountains" should close 
 the series ; but the entreaties of her 
 young readers for " more Bessie books " have 
 induced the publishers and herself to extend 
 it somewhat farther. 
 
 The following gratifying and touching com- 
 munication is given here in the hope that this 
 may meet the eye of her little unknown cor- 
 respondent who has not given her residence 
 - and that she will send word where a letter 
 may reach her : 
 
 DEAR LADY, I love you for you write each nice 
 Bessie books and I want to see you but I dont kno 
 where you live and papa says I can send this to Mr. 
 Carter. Please write a 100 Bessie books Bessie in truble 
 and Bessie in plesure Bessie sick Bessie well and all. 
 But not her mama to go to heven for my mama and the
 
 viri Preface. 
 
 baby went to heven and T cry ahot it yet and 1 want my 
 mama in my boeme. 1 am name Bessie but not so nice 
 as book Bessie aud I have 2 Maggies one my sister 
 nice and good and one not nice and only a chamermade 
 and dirty. And I love you dear lady and here is a 
 kits ; j for you. 
 
 BKSSIK 
 
 But pleased as the writer is with this pre- 
 cious little letter she feels that " a 100 Bessie 
 books " would tire even this enthusiastic 
 young reader, and so if the little friends who 
 have gone with Maggie and Bessie to the sea- 
 side and the mountains, who have visited 
 them in their home and accompanied them 
 to school, will by and by go with them on their 
 travels, we will afterwards say good-by to 
 them, with kind wishes on both sides, and 
 the hope that there may be other children in 
 some corner of her brain whose acquaintance 
 will not be less agreeable than that of our 
 Maggie and Bessie. 
 
 ' J H. M.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 I. A SURPRISE 9 
 
 II. . GRANDMAMMA'S STOBT 81 
 
 HI. SCHOOL 67 
 
 IV. SCHOOLMATES . . 80 
 
 V. THE PRIZES 106 
 
 VI. BELLB 128 
 
 VII. THE HURT FOOT 160 
 
 VIII. THE BROKEN ULOCK 174 
 
 IX THE CONFESSION 193 
 
 X. A LITTLE LIGHT 214 
 
 XI. ABOUT "Oca FATHBB'S" Wowt .... 239 
 
 XII. BESSIE'S PAKTT 263 
 
 XIII. LOST AND FOUND 286 
 
 XIV. THB AWABD 810 
 
 XV. A LETTER . .887
 
 BESSIE AT SCHOOL. 
 
 L 
 
 A SURPRISE. 
 
 JESSIE lay fast asleep upon mamma's 
 sofa, for she and Maggie had been 
 with Uncle Ruthven and Aunt Bessie 
 for a long drive ; and the little one, quite 
 tired, had curled herself up among the cush- 
 ions, and still was nestling there, unconscious 
 of all that was passing. 
 
 Mamma thought it a good thing that her 
 delicate little girl could drop off to sleep so 
 easily, and so gain the rest she needed after 
 any fatigue ; but wide-awake Maggie thought 
 it rather a troublesome fashion of Bessie's, and 
 wondered that any one, who was not obliged
 
 IO Bessie at School. 
 
 to do it, could " waste being alive in taking 
 naps." 
 
 But just now she did not mind this quite a? 
 much as usual, for she was sitting on a lo~w 
 stool at her mother's feet, busy copying a let- 
 ter to Mrs. Porter, which she and Bessie had 
 composed together. For Maggie no longer 
 printed her letters and compositions, but 
 wrote them in a large round hand, quite 
 easy to read. But, in order to do it well, 
 she had to pay close attention to her writing ; 
 and, since Bessie could not help her, she was 
 contented to have her lie quietly asleep on the 
 sofa for the time. Mrs. Bradford was leaning 
 back upon the pillows in her easy-chair, look 
 ing so pale and thin and weak, that even a 
 child could have told that she had been ill. 
 
 Indeed she had been, the dear, precious 
 mamma, so ill, that, for some days, it 
 seemed as if she woro to be taken from her 
 little ones. But the merciful Father above 
 had heard and granted the prayers of all the 
 loving hearts whose earthly happiness she
 
 A Surprise. n 
 
 made, and hope and joy came back to the 
 pleasant home from which, for a time, they 
 had flown away. It had been a great delight 
 to Maggie and Bessie to see her walk into the 
 nursery, leaning on papa's arm, that morning; 
 and even baby Annie seemed to know it was 
 something to rejoice at, for she came toddling 
 to her mamma, and hid her face in her skirts, 
 with a sweet, crowing laugh, which was full 
 of joy and love. 
 
 And when, a little while after, Bessie sat 
 looking earnestly at her mother, with eyes 
 which seemed as if they could not take their 
 fill, and was asked by her of what she was 
 thinking, the answer was, 
 
 " I was thinking two things, mamma. One 
 was, what a very great thanksgiving we ought 
 to make ; and, the other was, how very dis- 
 appointed the angels must be, not to have you 
 in Heaven, after all." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Maggie, " I guess the angela 
 are too glad for us to be very sorry for their 
 own disappointment."
 
 12 Bessie at &chool. 
 
 But though mamma was much better, she 
 was still very feeble, and it was necessary that 
 she should be very careful not to fatigue or 
 excite herself; and the doctor said it would be 
 some weeks, perhaps months, before she would 
 be able to go about her usual duties and occu 
 pations. 
 
 A book lay upon Mrs. Bradford's lap, 
 but she was not reading. She sat watching 
 the busy fingers of her little daughter with 
 a look that was somewhat anxious and 
 troubled. 
 
 " There ! " said Maggie at last, looking up 
 from her letter with a satisfied air, " when 
 Bessie has put her name under mine, it will 
 be all done. Do you think Mrs. Porter will be 
 able to make it out, mamma ? " 
 
 " If she does not, I think it will be the 
 fault of her eyes, and not of my Maggie's 
 Kugers," said Mrs. Bradford, smiling as she 
 looked at the large, plain letters upon the sheet 
 which Maggie held up before her. " That is 
 \rerv well done, my daughter ; and Mrs. Porter
 
 A Surprise. 13 
 
 will be gratified when she sees how much pains 
 you have taken." 
 
 Well pleased at her mother's praise, which 
 she certainly deserved, Maggie carefully laid 
 by her letter until Bessie should be awake to 
 sign it, and then came back to mamma's side 
 for a little petting and loving. 
 
 " Maggie darling," said Mrs. Bradford pres- 
 ently, laying her thin hand caressingly on the 
 rosy cheek which nestled against her shoulder, 
 " how should you like to go to school ? " 
 
 Maggie raised her head quickly. 
 
 " mamma ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 Mrs. Bradford had folly expected to see 
 just such a look, and hear just such a tone ; 
 but she only said, " Well, dear ? " 
 
 "Mamma, I never could bear it, nevei, 
 never. Why, I suppose you would not teach 
 us any longer then ; and besides, mamma, 
 strange girls go to school, do they not ? " 
 
 " Girls who are strangers to you, you mean, 
 dear?" 
 
 "Yes'm."
 
 14 Bessie at School. 
 
 " Well, yes," said Mrs. Bradford, slowly f or 
 this was even a greater trial to her than it 
 was to Maggie. " I suppose there would be 
 some girls whom you did not know, but not a 
 great many ; for it would be but a small class 
 to which I should send you. Do you rernem 
 ber that pleasant Miss Ashton whom you saw 
 here one day, just after we came home from 
 Chalecoo ? " 
 
 " Yes'm ; and we liked her looks so 
 much." 
 
 " Well, she is going to have a class of 
 little girls for two or three hours each day. 
 Lily Norris, Gracie Howard, and one or two 
 others whom you know, are to join it ; and she 
 came here to know if I would like you to do 
 so. But I wished still to teach you myself, 
 this winter, and said ' no.' But now that I 
 have been so ill, I feel that I must give up 
 this pleasure, for it will not do for you to lose 
 so much time. So, as Miss Ashton has still 
 one or two places to be filled, I think I shall 
 send you to her. You will not find it hard
 
 15 
 
 after the first day or two. Miss Ashton is a 
 very kind, gentle young lady; you already 
 know several of your classmates, and with 
 the rest you will soon become acquainted, 
 Miss Ashton's mother is to have a class of 
 older girls, but they will be in another room, 
 and need not interfere with you. With all 
 this to make it easy and agreeable for you, 
 do you not think you will be able to bear 
 it ? " 
 
 " I could not ; indeed, mamma, I could not," 
 said Maggie, making a great effort to speak 
 steadily. 
 
 " Not if it would be a great help to your 
 sick mother, dear ? " 
 
 Maggie swallowed the lump in her throat, 
 winked her eyes very hard to keep back the 
 tears, and answered : " Yes, if it would be 
 that, I could, mamma. I think I would do 
 any thing that would be a help to you, even 
 if it did hurt my own feelings dreadfully." 
 
 " My own dear little girl ! " said Mrs. Brad- 
 ford, tenderly kissing the flushed face which
 
 1 6 Bessie at School. 
 
 looked up into hers so wistfully. " But I do 
 not believe you will find this as hard a trial 
 as you imagine, Maggie. After the first day 
 or two, I hope you will not only be quite 
 willing to go to school, but that you will 
 really take pleasure in it." 
 
 Maggie shook her head very dolefully. 
 
 " That could never be, mamma ; but I will 
 try not to feel too badly about it. But," with 
 a look at her sleeping sister, " I am glad 
 Bessie won't mind it so much as I will. 
 She'll feel very badly to know you're not 
 going to teach us any more, but then she 
 won't care so much about the strange girls 
 and the strange school." 
 
 Mrs. Bradford looked troubled. She had 
 not imagined that Maggie thought she meant 
 to send Bessie to school also, and now thai 
 Bhe saw this was so, she knew what a blow it 
 would be to the poor child to hear that her 
 sister was not to go. 
 
 " My darling," she said, " we do not intend 
 your father and I to send Bessie to school
 
 A Surprise. 17 
 
 thi? winter. We think her too young, and not 
 strong enough, and that much study would 
 not be good for her." 
 
 Poor Maggie ! This was more than she 
 had bargained to "bear," the one drop too 
 much in her full cup. She could no longer 
 choke back her tears, but fell into a passion 
 of sobbing and crying, which her mother found 
 it impossible for some minutes to quiet. It 
 was only the recollection that her mamma 
 must not be worried, which, at last, helped 
 the child to conquer it. And it was Bessie 
 who put her in mind of this ; for her sobs had 
 roused her little sister, who, waking and slip- 
 ping down from the sofa, came running to 
 know what could be the matter with her 
 usually merry, cheerful Maggie. 
 
 " Maggie dear," said the thoughtful Bessie, 
 r< 1 'm very sorry for you, but you know the 
 doctor said mamma was not to have any 
 ercitement or 'sturbance, and I'm 'fraid 
 you're making one for her. I s'pose you 
 forgot."
 
 1 8 Bessie at School. 
 
 In another moment Maggie had checked 
 her loud sobs, though the tears would noi 
 be controlled just yet ; and looking from hei 
 to her mother's anxious face, a new fear came 
 into Bessie's mind. 
 
 " Mamma," she said, looking wistfully up 
 at her mother, " is our Father going to make 
 you worse again, and take you away from us 
 after all?" 
 
 " No, my darling ; 1 trust not," said Mrs. 
 Bradford. " Maggie's trouble is by no means 
 so great a one as that : is it, dear Maggie ? I 
 have just been telling her that she is to go to 
 school this winter, and she is rather dis- 
 tressed ; but she will soon feel better about 
 it. She will only be away for two or three 
 hours each day, and will soon be quite accus- 
 tomed to her new teacher and her classmates, 
 and learn to like them." 
 
 Bessie looked very sober, and, after a mo- 
 ment, she said, with a long sigh, 
 
 "Well, dear mamma, you know it is a 
 pretty great trial to think you can't teach us
 
 A Surprise. 19 
 
 now ; but wo '11 try not to mind it so much aa 
 to make you feel bad, and maybe I can help 
 Maggie to get used to the girls and the 
 teacher, 'cause you know I am not so shy 
 as she is, and I s'pose I'll 'come acquainted 
 with them sooner than she will. And if we 
 don't like the other girls very much, we won't 
 mind it when we have each other : need we. 
 Maggie ? " and she took her sister's han<S 
 with a tender, protecting air, which was both 
 amusing and touching to see. 
 
 So the little one herself was also taking it 
 for granted, that, since Maggie was to go to 
 school, she was to go too. 
 
 It was only natural, as the mother knew. 
 They had never been separated ; one never 
 half enjoyed a pleasure, unless the other 
 shared it ; and all their childish troubles 
 were made lighter and easier to bear, be- 
 cause they were together, and could give 
 comfort and help to one another ; and Mrs. 
 Bradford was sure it would be as great a 
 blow te Bessie as it had been to Maggie to
 
 2O Bessie at School. 
 
 know that they were to be parted even for 
 two or three hours each day. 
 
 " But I mean to keep my Bessie at homa 
 with me," she said, trying to speak cheer- 
 fully ; " and every day, when Maggie comes 
 back, she will tell us all she has seen and 
 learned ; and it will be nice to watch for her, 
 and have some little pleasure ready for her, 
 when she returns to us, will it not ? " 
 
 " Mamma," said Bessie, struggling with her- 
 self, lest she, too, should break down in tears, 
 and so distress her mother, but still speaking 
 with a very quivering voice, " Mamma, you 
 never could mean that Maggie is to go to 
 school without me, could you ? You are 
 making rather, a bad joke, are you not ? " 
 
 The beseeching voice, the pleading eyes, 
 and trembling lips, went straight to the 
 mother's heart, and would not let her smile 
 at the innocent ending of Bessie's speech. 
 
 " I really mean what I say, darling," she 
 answered. " Papa and I have talked it all 
 over, and although we know it is hard for you
 
 A Surprise. 21 
 
 and Maggie to be separated even for a little 
 while, we do not think it best for you to go. 
 You are not very strong, and it would not be 
 well for you to study much for a year or, two. 
 If you were with other children, you might try 
 too hard, for you know you do not like to be 
 left behind ; and as you can read pretty well 
 now, we think we will let you be a lazy little 
 girl for this winter, and keep you at home to 
 take care of mamma." 
 
 " Mamma," said Bessie, earnestly, " you 
 know I 'd rather be with you than anywhere, 
 even with my own Maggie ; and I only want 
 to go to school on 'count of Maggie's sake. 
 But you have a great many people to take 
 care of you, 'cause papa or grandmamma or 
 one of the aunties stays with you all the time"; 
 and poor Maggie would be so very lonesome 
 without any of her own people. And, mamma, 
 it seems pretty queer to want a little girl to be 
 lazy ; but if you 'd like me to, I '11 be so very 
 lazy that Miss Ashton will say, ' Go to the aot, 
 thou sluggard.' "
 
 22 Bessie at School. 
 
 Mrs. Bradford could not help smiling ; but 
 ghe said, " That might do, dear, if Miss Ash- 
 ton were to teach no one but yourself and 
 Maggie ; but she would probably think it 
 would not answer to have a little girl in 
 her class who could not do as the others 
 did. She might say it would be a bad ex 
 ample, or that the rest might think it was 
 not fair." 
 
 " But, mamma," pleaded Bessie, " don't 
 you think if you told Miss Ashton how very 
 fond Maggie and I are of each other, and how 
 badly she would feel if she had to go without 
 me, it might have a little persuasion for her ? 
 You know you were very kind to her when 
 her father died, and maybe she would like to 
 have some gratitude for you." 
 
 " I dare say Miss Ashton would be very 
 glad to please me, Bessie ; but she has to con- 
 sider not so much what she. would like, as 
 what is right and best to do. However, she 
 is coming here this afternoon for my answer 
 about Maggie, and I will ask her if she can
 
 A Surprise. 23 
 
 make any arrangement that will do for you. 
 If she can, then we will see what papa says ; 
 but I do not wish either of you to think too 
 much about it, lest you should be disappointed 
 in the end." 
 
 Mamma talked to them a little longer, try- 
 ing to persuade them to look on the bright 
 side of this, to them, great trouble ; till Bessie, 
 noticing how weak her voice was, and how 
 pale she looked, asked if she were not tired. 
 Mamma said, " Yes," and that she thought she 
 must rest a while if she were to see Miss Ash- 
 ton that afternoon. 
 
 This was enough for the tender little nurses ; 
 and grandmamma, who had left them in charge, 
 coming in soon after, found Mrs. Bradford 
 asleep on the sofa, with Maggie gently rubbing 
 her feet, and Bessie as softly threading her 
 fingers through her mother's hair. But quiet 
 as they were, their thoughts were very busy, 
 and their hearts very full ; and Maggie, con- 
 trary to her usually cheerful spirit, had been 
 imagining all kinds of disagreeable occur-
 
 24 Bessie at School. 
 
 rences which might happen to her at school, 
 and looking upon herself quite as a little 
 martyr ; and now, as her grandmamma nod- 
 ded and smiled at her, she was surprised not 
 only to see the traces of tears on her cheeks, 
 but also that her eyes were still swimming ; 
 while Bessie's face wore the piteous look it 
 always did when any thing had distressed her. 
 Seeing that Mrs. Bradford was fast asleep, and 
 would not be disturbed if her children ceased 
 their loving tending, she beckoned them into 
 their own room, where, sitting down on a low 
 chair, she lifted Bessie on her lap, and draw 
 ing Maggie to her, asked what had grieved 
 them. 
 
 Their trouble was soon told; but grand- 
 mamma having known before that the thing 
 was to be, was not surprised, nor as shocked 
 as Maggie had expected and hoped she would 
 be. Now, perhaps some of you little girls, 
 who know what a happy, pleasant place a 
 school may be, will think our Maggie very 
 foolish to dread it so much ; but those among
 
 A Surprise. 25 
 
 you who are shy and timid, will have some 
 idea of how she felt. Her fear of strangers 
 was really a great cross to her, and she would 
 even sometimes refuse some offered pleasure 
 rather than be thrown with people whom she 
 did not know. This was one reason why her 
 mamma thought it was better for her to go to 
 school, that, being with other children, might 
 help to rub off this uncomfortable shyness, so 
 troublesome to herself and her friends. 
 
 " Mr. Porter said once," said Maggie, when 
 Bessie had finished her doleful story, " that 
 God sometimes had to take away our blessings 
 to teach us how much they were worth ; and 
 I 'm afraid it 's just for that He is punishing 
 me this way, for I don't think I ever knew till 
 now what a great blessing it was to have 
 mamma teach me, and sometimes I even used 
 to feel a little cross when she called us to our 
 lessons. So I s'pose when I was so ungrate- 
 ful, He thought it was just good enough for 
 me to go to a hateful old school full of strange 
 girls and a strange teacher and every thing,
 
 20 Bessie at School. 
 
 and not Bessie to go, nor any one who lo\ea 
 me. Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! " and Maggie now 
 gave way to the tears and sobs which she had 
 checked before, for fear they should distress 
 her sick mother. 
 
 Her grandmamma let her cry for a few mo- 
 ments, thinking it might make her feel better ; 
 but when she was quieter, she said gently, " ] 
 do not think you are looking at this quite in 
 the right way, dear Maggie." 
 
 " How, grandmamma ? " asked Maggie, wip- 
 ing her eyes. 
 
 " To look at it as a punishment, dear. I 
 know this is a trial for you, indeed it seems to 
 you now like a great hardship, though I trust 
 you will learn to feel differently about it. But 
 God does not always send trials as punish- 
 ments." 
 
 " What then, grandmamma ? " 
 
 " Well, He may send troubles to us to work 
 But some good purpose of His own that we 
 cannot know of, or they may even be sent as 
 blessings, though we do not see it at the time."
 
 A Surprise. 27 
 
 "Oh!" said Maggie, "I s'pose that was 
 what Aunt Helen meant the other day whei; 
 she talked about ' blessings in disguise.' ' : 
 
 " Yes," answered Mrs. Stanton ; " but do 
 you know what disguise means, Maggie ? " 
 
 " Yes'm," said Maggie. " It means to 
 dress yourself up so that nobody would know 
 you ; and if my going to school is a blessing, 
 I think it is a very disguised one indeed" 
 
 Mrs. Stanton could not help smiling a little, 
 though she was sorry to hear Maggie's rebel- 
 lious tone. 
 
 " Grandmamma," said Bessie, " do you think 
 ' our Father ' has a purpose in having Maggie 
 go to school ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear. We may always be sure that 
 whatever He orders for us is for some wise 
 and holy purpose of His own. It may be He 
 sees this will be good for Maggie, or He may 
 have some work for her to do for Him." 
 
 " But I know I could work and study a 
 great deal better at home with my own 
 mamma, and my own Bessie, than I could
 
 28 Bessie at School. 
 
 in a hateful school with a cross, ugly teacher," 
 said Maggie. 
 
 " Maggie ! " said Bessie, " Miss Ashtoii 
 is not ugly. Don't you know we thought she 
 looked so nice and pleasant ? And I don't 
 believe she is cross, either, or mamma would 
 not let you go to her." 
 
 " No," said grandmamma : " Miss Ashton is 
 neither cross nor ugly ; but Maggie is looking 
 at her and at her school through the specta- 
 cles of discontent, which hide all that is good, 
 and make all that is bad appear far, far worse 
 than the reality. Take them off, Maggie, and 
 look at things with your own honest, cheerful 
 eyes. It may be that the great Teacher above 
 has some lesson for you to learn that you do 
 not know of, some special work for you to 
 do for Him." 
 
 " I don't see how a little girl like me could 
 do any work for Him in school, except to 
 learn my lessons well," said Maggie, " and I 
 could do that at home." 
 
 " When you were at Chalecoo last summer,
 
 A Surprise. 29 
 
 did not the Lord Jesus give you work to do 
 for Him, such as you had no thought of ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Maggie, softened at once ; " and 
 it was a very happy work ; and I am very glad 
 He made us of a heart to do it." 
 
 " And if you ask Him, darling, He will 
 always give you a heart to do the work He 
 puts in your way*," said grandmamma. 
 
 " But, grandmamma," said Maggie, " how 
 could I find work for Him in school ? Miss 
 Ashton would not have children like Lem and 
 Dolly in her class." 
 
 " No," answered Mrs. Stanton. " The chil- 
 dren you will meet there are all probably 
 more or less well taught ; but you may still 
 find something to do for Jesus. But the 
 work which He gives us is not always that 
 which we have chosen or planned for our- 
 selves. It may be that your task will be only 
 that of which you have just spoken ; to learn 
 your lessons well, to bo obedient and respect 
 ful to Miss Ashtoii, gentle and patient with 
 your schoolmates ; yet all may be done for the
 
 30 Bessie at School. 
 
 love of Jesus, and to His glory and praise. 
 There is a lovely hymn which asks that one 
 may be made more careful to please God per- 
 fectly than to serve Him much. That means 
 that it is far more pleasing to Him to have us 
 take up cheerfully and gratefully the small 
 duty which lies straight before us, than it is 
 to have . us pass that by white we search foi 
 some more grand task, or self-sacrifice, which 
 we may choose to think is His work. I can 
 tell you a story of a great mistake which I 
 made in that way once. Would you like to 
 hear it ? " 
 
 The children both assented eagerly, and 
 settled themselves comfortably to listen to 
 grandmamma's story.
 
 n. 
 
 GRANDMAMMA'S STORY. 
 
 WAS a good deal older than eithe. 
 of you," said Mrs. Stanton, " when 
 the things happened of which I 
 am going to tell you, for I was nearly fourteen 
 years of age ; but still the story may interest 
 and be of use to you. 
 
 " Up to that time, I had always been taught 
 at home, partly by a governess who also 
 taught my younger sisters, Emily and Bertha, 
 partly by my father, who was a man fond of 
 study, and who took great pleasure in teach- 
 ing what he knew to others, especially his own 
 children. I was a scholar after his own heart, 
 for I learned easily and with little trouble to 
 myself or my instructors ; and I had a wonder- 
 ful memory, which seldom let any thing slip 
 which I had once heard or studied. I was 
 very proud of my ready memory, forgetting
 
 32 Bessie at School. 
 
 that it was quite as much a gift from God as 
 beauty, riches, or any other good thing which 
 He gives to His creatures. I may say, now, 
 that I was really very forward for my age ; 
 and my father and mother also took great 
 pride in me, particularly the former, who 
 was anxious to show off my learning on every 
 occasion. 
 
 " A great many gentlemen used to visit at 
 our house, friends of my father, and men 
 who, like himself, were fond of hooks and 
 study ; and they used to have long talks on 
 these things. Sometimes they would differ 
 about a name, a date, or some fact; and often, 
 at such times, my father would call me, and 
 tell me to settle the disputed point. I could 
 generally answer correctly, and then our 
 friends would go on asking question after 
 question, perhaps to find out how much I 
 really knew, perhaps only to amuse them- 
 selves with my vanity; while I, encouraged 
 by my father, who did not know the harm he 
 was doing me, and with my silly little head
 
 Grand mamma's Story. 33 
 
 (juite turned by the praise and notice I re- 
 seived, was only too glad to show off all 1 
 knew. Indeed, I was quite disappointed when- 
 ever any of these friends left the house, and ] 
 had not been called upon for any such dis- 
 play. 
 
 " When I was nearly fourteen years of age, 
 my dear mother had a long illness ; and as 
 soon as she was able to travel, the doctors 
 said that she must go away for a year at 
 least. Emily had not been well for some 
 time, and it was decided that she was to go 
 too ; while Bertie and I were to be sent to 
 boarding-school during their absence. That 
 was a far worse trial than going to school for 
 two or three hours each day, knowing that 
 your own dear mamma is here for you to 
 come back to : was it not, Maggie ? " 
 
 " Yes'm," said Maggie, with a loving glance 
 through the open door at her sleeping mother ; 
 " but then, grandmamma, you know you were 
 such a big girl ; and, I suppose, you were not 
 shy, either, if you had so much courage to 
 3
 
 34 Bessie at School. 
 
 talk to the grown gentlemen. Grandmamma, 
 I don't think you can know how uncomfortable 
 it is for a child to be shy. Oh, I do wish I 
 could come over it." 
 
 " Overcome it, you mean," said grand- 
 mamma. " Well, dear Maggie, do you know 
 that I think this very thing which you dread 
 so much, going to school, may help you 
 to do so. And it would be a good thing if it 
 were so, for this troublesome shyness not only 
 interferes with one's own pleasure and com- 
 fort, but often with one's usefulness to others. 
 But to go on with my story. Great girl 
 though T was, and bolder, perhaps, than be- 
 came my years, the parting from my father 
 and mother was a terrible trial to me, and I 
 shed many bitter tears over it. The thing 
 which gave me most comfort was the thought 
 of all I would do while they were gone, and 
 how I would astonish them with my improve- 
 ment on their return. I not only meant to 
 study so hard that I should put myself at the 
 head of all my classes and take most, if not
 
 Grandmamma's Story. 35 
 
 U, of the prizes ; but I also begged my father 
 to write out a list of books of history and 
 travels which I might read during my play- 
 hours, and asked to be allowed to take up one 
 or two extra studies. He readily agreed ; but 
 my mother shook her head, and said if my 
 time and thoughts were to be so taken up 
 with my books, she feared I would not give 
 much attention to little Bertie. 
 
 " Bertie was mother's great anxiety in leav- 
 ing home. She was only seven years old ; a 
 timid, clinging child, shrinking from strangers, 
 and always wanting to be petted and cuddled 
 by those she loved. She had never been real- 
 ly sick, but she was not strong ; and mother 
 gave her into my special care with so many 
 charges to be kind and tender to her, that I 
 felt impatient and half vexed that she should 
 think they were needed. Alas ! she knew me 
 better than I knew myself. 
 
 " Our parents had secured some little favors 
 at the school for us, among others, that of a 
 room to ourselves ; and this they had furnished
 
 36 Bessie at School. 
 
 comfortably and prettily, so that we might 
 have been very contented and happy there to- 
 gether, if it had not been for my vanity and 
 selfishness ; or, perhaps I should say, the 
 strange mistakes I made as to my duty. 
 
 " For the first day or two, we were both heart- 
 broken, and I petted Bertie and sorrowed with 
 her ; but after that, I turned to my books and 
 had no time or thought for any thing else. 
 True, I did not neglect my little sister's bodily 
 comfort ; every morning I washed and dressed 
 her with my own hands, and curled her long, 
 fair ringlets ; each night I undressed her and 
 tucked her in her bed ; nor was it done hasti- 
 ly or impatiently, but with care and patience. 
 But while I was at my task, for so I thought 
 it, of tending her, my book lay open on my 
 lap, and I learned long poems or lists of names 
 and dates, and poor Bertie was never suffered 
 to speak to me. I always had an hour to my- 
 self at the time when I put her to bed, and I 
 might have spent it with her, had I chosen to 
 do so. But, no ; although the little homesick
 
 Grandmamma s Story, 37 
 
 child used to beg me to stay with her and talk 
 of mother, I was always in haste to go to the 
 books which father had marked for me. Many 
 a time when I went up to bed, I found her 
 awake, restless and nervous ; or, if she was 
 sleeping, her pillow and face were wet with 
 tears. During play-hours, she used to hang 
 about me, longing for love and comfort ; but 
 although I never sent her from me, I had no 
 time to give her the petting and sympathy she 
 needed. 
 
 " Saturdays, when we had a holiday, and Sun- 
 days, were no better, perhaps rather worse ; 
 for then Bertie was more lonely and homesick 
 than when she was in school, and I was just 
 as busy as on other days. 
 
 " On Sunday mornings we were obliged to 
 go to church and Sunday school ; but in the 
 afternoon, we were allowed to do as we pleased, 
 provided there was no loud laughing or talk- 
 ing. It was my pleasure to attend a Bible- 
 class held by the clergyman of the village, 
 about a mile off; and much of my time on
 
 38 Bessie at School. 
 
 Saturday was taken up with studying the !e 
 son for the next day. I knew a good deal of 
 the history and geography of the Bible, and 
 2ould repeat many a chapter and verse ; but to 
 ts lessons of humility, unselfishness, and true 
 ove to my God and my neighbor, I fear I paid 
 tittle heed. 
 
 " My governess rather objected to my attend- 
 ing this class, which was intended for those 
 who were much older than myself; for she 
 thought I was doing too much, and not taking 
 time enough for rest and play. But, since she 
 did not forbid it, I shut my ears to her advice 
 and took my own way. I believe I honestly 
 thought I was doing right, too ; that I was 
 making the most of the opportunities God had 
 given me, trying to please my parents, and to 
 do my duty. And these things were all right 
 in themselves ; but the trouble was, I did not 
 take up the duty which lay nearest to my hand. 
 I neglected the simple, easy work which God 
 had put in my way, because I thought it was a 
 trifle. You see, my darlings, I would not stoop
 
 Grandmamma's Story. 39 
 
 to pick up the tiny jewel which lay at mj- feet, 
 but reached out for that which was more 
 showy and glittering, but less precious in His 
 sight. 
 
 u We had been at school about four months, 
 when one Saturday I noticed that Bertie 
 seemed more dull and languid than usual. I 
 did not wish to see this, but I could not shut 
 my eyes to it. She would not go out to play 
 with the other children, nor would she amuse 
 herself in the house, but sat listlessly about, 
 looking pale and miserable. 
 
 " ' What ails you, Bertie ? ' I asked at last : 
 ' are you sick ? ' 
 
 " ' I want mother,' she answered, with a 
 quivering lip and eyes filling up with tears. 
 
 " ' Well, four months have gone by,' I said, 
 speaking cheerfully, but carelessly. 
 
 " ' Four months,' the child repeated sadly, 
 ' and that leaves,' she counted up on her 
 fingers, ' that leaves eight more, Margy, be- 
 fore they come home. Oh, it is so long ! ' 
 
 " ' If you love father and mother so much,
 
 <|O Bessie at School. 
 
 I said, ' I should think you would try to do 
 what would please them.' 
 
 " ' So I do,' said my little sister, with the 
 great tears now rolling down her cheeks: 
 ' mother told me to be good and mind you and 
 my teachers, and I have. Mrs. Horton told 
 me yesterday, I was the best little girl in the 
 school, and gave her no trouble, and that she 
 would write, and tell mother so.' 
 
 " ' Oh, yes ! ' I said, ' you are certainly a 
 very good child ; but you might improve more 
 if you chose, Bertie.' 
 
 " ' I don't want to improve,' said Bertie : 
 ' people are not half so nice when they im- 
 prove.' 
 
 " ' You do not understand what you arc 
 talking about,' said I, half laughing, half 
 vexed : * people must be nicer when they im- 
 prove, because it means to become wiser and 
 better.' 
 
 " ' Oh ! ' said Bertie, with a disapproving 
 look at my pile of books, * I thought it meant 
 to study a great deal.'
 
 Grandmamma's Story. 41 
 
 " l You foolish child ! ' I answered rather 
 sharply, ' there are a great many ways in 
 which people may improve themselves. God 
 gives one kind of work to one, and another 
 kind to another ; and the way to please Him, 
 and to improve ourselves, is to do what He 
 gives us with all our might.' 
 
 " ' And has not God given you any work to 
 do but studying all the time ? ' asked Bertie. 
 
 " * Of course not,' I answered, ' or I should 
 do it. When our parents placed us in this 
 expensive school, they meant us to make the 
 most of our time and the advantages they had 
 given us ; so that is our duty both to them and 
 to God.' 
 
 " I thought myself very wise and impor- 
 tant while making these grand speeches to my 
 little sister, but they did not seem to satisfy 
 her. 
 
 " ' But don't we have a duty to each other, 
 Margy ? ' she said. 
 
 " ' Certainly,', I answered ; * but I would 
 like to know what you would be at. I suppose
 
 42 Bessie at School. 
 
 it is I you mean, when you say people are not 
 nice who study a good deal ; and I do not see 
 where I have not done my duty to you. Don't 
 I take all the care of you ? ' 
 
 " * Yes,' said Bertie, slowly ; ' but, Margy, 
 you never pet me, or tell me stories, or sing to 
 me, as you used to, and I would like it now 
 more than I did then.' 
 
 " * So would I like it,' I said, ' but that would 
 be play, not work, and I have not time for 
 such nonsense. You must not think I do not 
 love you just as much ; and don't talk any 
 more, I have wasted too much time already.' 
 
 " Bertie obeyed and was silent, leaning her 
 head against the window-frame with a sad, 
 weary air, while I turned over the leaves of my 
 Bible in search of a verse I wanted ; but 1 
 could not fix my attention. Bertie's words 
 had made me feel very uncomfortable, and 
 brought back my mother's last charge to me, 
 ( Margaret dear, take care of my baby, and do 
 not let her want for any comfort or tenderness 
 that you can give her.'
 
 Grandmamma's Story. 43 
 
 " Had I given Bertie all the love and tender* 
 ness in my power? Had I done the work 
 which my mother, aye, and my God, too, 
 had put into my hands, the work that 
 should have been done before I took up any 
 other ? 
 
 " These thoughts now troubled me so, that 
 I could scarcely study ; but I tried to put them 
 from me, saying to myself that I would give 
 Bertie a good petting and tell her a long story 
 on the next afternoon, after my return from 
 Bible-class. 
 
 " But the next morning I thought I had 
 found a new piece of work which it was my 
 duty to perform. My Sabbath-school teacher 
 told the class of a poor family, living some dis- 
 tance beyond the village, who were in the great- 
 est need, and asked if some among us could 
 not spare a little to help them. I at once took 
 it up, saying that I would go round among the 
 girls in our school, and see what I could col- 
 lect. This I did, as soon as I reached home ; 
 and, each of the teachers and scholars giving
 
 44 Bessie at School. 
 
 more or less, I soon had a nice sum in my 
 hands. I asked, and obtained permission, to 
 go with one of my schoolmates and take this 
 to the suffering family, after the dismissal of 
 the afternoon Bible-class ; and as I sat upon 
 the piazza, counting over the money,! said that 
 T intended to do so. 
 
 " Bertie sat at my feet, leaning her head 
 against my knees. She had not been to church 
 or Sunday school that morning, for she seemed 
 so languid that Mrs. Horton had proposed she 
 should stay at home. 
 
 " ' Margy ! ' she said, looking up at me 
 with pleading eyes, ' then you will be away all 
 the afternoon. It is such a long walk over to 
 Cuddy's Hollow ! and if you go there after Bi- 
 ble class, you will not be home till tea-time. 
 I do want you so ! couldn't some one else take 
 it, and wouldn't you stay with me just this 
 one Sunday ? ' 
 
 " ' Impossible, Bertie,' I said : ' I have not 
 missed one Bible-class since we came to school, 
 and hope not to during the year aod you sur*
 
 Grandmamma's Story. 45 
 
 ly would not have these poor people suffering 
 another twenty-four hours when here is the 
 money ready for them ? ' 
 
 " ' No,' said Bertie ; ' but I thought some 
 one else could go. I believe I don't feel very 
 well, Margy ; and I want you to talk about 
 mother. Oh, Margy ! do stay.' 
 
 " ' Miss Ruthven,' said one of my school- 
 mates, a new scholar who stood by, ' I intend- 
 ed to join the Bible-class this afternoon ; and 
 if you would like to stay with your little sister, 
 I will gladly go with Miss Oliver to carry the 
 money.' 
 
 " Now, my conscience not being quite at 
 rest for refusing Bertie's request, I immedi- 
 ately imagined that this young lady meant 
 to reprove or dictate to me ; and I answered 
 stiffly, 
 
 " ' Thank you, Miss Hart, but I prefer to 
 attend to it myself. When one has undertaken 
 a plain duty, one should not give it up for one's 
 own pleasure.' 
 
 " ' Yes,' said Miss Hart, quietly ; ' but should
 
 46 Bessie at School* 
 
 we not be very sure that we see clearly what 
 is our duty, and what our pleasure ? ' 
 
 " I took no notice of this, but turned to Ber- 
 tie with, 
 
 " ' You said a little while ago, Bertie, that 
 you were so sorry for these poor people. If 
 we really care for others and want to help 
 them, we must sometimes give up our own 
 comfort and convenience.' 
 
 " ' You don't care for me, or want to help 
 me a bit,' said Bertie, passionately ; ' and I 
 am going to write and ask mother if I can't 
 come to her, even if I do have to sail off in a 
 ship .J1 alone by myself; ' and then she broke 
 out in tears and sobs. 
 
 " ' You know that is not true, and you are 
 wrong and selfish, Bertie,' I said. ' I must go 
 now, but be a good girl and stop crying, and 
 I will talk to you about mother, and tell you a 
 nice story when I come home ; ' and giving 
 her a hasty kiss, I ran down the steps and 
 joined the group who were about starting for 
 the church.
 
 Grandmamma's Story. - 47 
 
 " * Are you not going with us, Miss Hart?' 
 aaid the teacher who was to accompany us. 
 
 " ' I think not," she answered. 
 
 " ' You had better come,' I said, not wishing 
 she should think me unamiable : ' you have 
 no idea how interesting these classes are, and 
 how much one may learn.' 
 
 " ' Another afternoon,' she said, with a pleas- 
 ant smile : ' to-day T will remain at home.' 
 
 " We started OL. our way, but I was very 
 uneasy. The words, ' You do not care for me, 
 or want to help me,' mingling with, ' Do not 
 let my baby want for any care or tenderness 
 you can give her,' kept ringing in my ears ; 
 and my mother's eyes how like Bertie's were 
 to them ! seemed looking into mine, as she 
 pleaded for her little pet lamb. I came on 
 slowly after the others, trying to make up my 
 mind that it was not my duty to go back and 
 stay with Bertie. Once I turned, and looked 
 behind to see Mary Hart in the seat I had left, 
 Bertie upon her lap, the child's arms about 
 her neck, while she tenderly smoothed her
 
 48 Bessie at School. 
 
 lovely hair. A stranger was giving to my sis- 
 ter the petting and soothing for which she had 
 longed, and which I had denied to her. 
 " Then came the voice of the teacher, 
 " * Margaret Ruthven, why do you not 
 come ? If you want to stay with your sister, 
 go back ; if not, do not keep us waiting.' 
 
 " I followed the rest, but my thoughts were 
 all in confusion that afternoon. I was angry 
 with Bertie, with Mary Hart, with the teacher, 
 with every one but myself, who alone was to 
 blame. I could not fix my attention on the 
 lesson, or put the questions and give the an- 
 swers with which I was generally so ready ; 
 and I was glad when we were dismissed. Still, 
 this did not prevent me from joining Miss Oli- 
 ver and our Sunday-school teacher when they 
 went to Cuddy's Hollow. It was a long walk ; 
 and so much time was taken up in making 
 arrangements for the comfort of the poor 
 family, that it was late before we started 
 for home, so late that, on our way through 
 the village. Miss Henry stopped at her own
 
 Grandmammas Story, 49 
 
 house for her father, and both saw us safely 
 home. 
 
 "We had been gone five or six hours, and 
 as I entered the hall-door, some of the younger 
 children met me. 
 
 "<O Miss Buthven! Bertie is so sick! 
 She went to sleep in Miss Hart's lap this after- 
 noon, and when she woke up, she did not know 
 any one ; and the doctor is here, and she is so 
 sick.' 
 
 "In an instant, I had flown up the stairs, 
 and was on my knees beside Bertie's bed. 
 There she lay, her head rolling from side to 
 side, her little hot hands tossing restlessly to 
 and fro. She did not know me; and she 
 moaned, and called for mother, saying that 
 ' she was all alone, all alone.' 
 
 "Ah! my neglected work rose up plainly 
 before me then, the simple, easy work of love 
 which God had put ready to my hands, but 
 from which I had coldly turned away in search 
 of something which I thought nobler and bet- 
 ter. Would my parents care, though I gained 
 4
 
 50 Bessie at School. 
 
 every prize in the school, if they came home 
 to find their darling gone, and learned that 
 her last days had been made unhappy by want 
 of love and care ? Bessie, do not look so dis- 
 tressed, love. Bertie did not die, though for 
 three weeks all thought that it must end so. 
 Probably all the care and tenderness in the 
 world would not have kept off that terrible 
 illness, but my remorse and misery were as 
 great as though it had all been my doing. I 
 would not leave her day or night, and it was 
 only by the command of my governess that I 
 took any rest. At last a change came, and 
 Bertie was out of danger : but she was fretful 
 and nervous, and could not bear me out of her 
 sight ; while I felt that I could not do enough 
 to make up for the past, and devoted my whole 
 time to her. 
 
 " * Margy,' she said one day, as I sat beside 
 her, telling stories for her pleasure, ' I am glad 
 you don't improve any more. You are just 
 like my old Margy.' 
 
 " So the long summer days passed away,
 
 Grandmamma's Story. 51 
 
 and the exhibition, where I had so hoped to 
 excel all my schoolmates, was drawing near ; 
 and I stood, for absence, at the very foot of 
 all my classes. Still I hoped to make up for 
 lost time. Whenever Bertie slept, I took my 
 books, and did my best to keep up with my 
 class. A night-lamp was burned in our room ; 
 and after the rest of the house was safely in 
 bed, I used to rise and study by its faint light, 
 then take a few hours of sleep, and be up with 
 the first streak of day, spending many an hour 
 over my lessons when I should have been at 
 rest. In this way, I hoped to recover what I 
 had lost, and be able to take my old place by 
 the time Bertie was well. But again I found 
 that God had other work for me than that 
 which I had laid out for myself. 
 
 " For some days I had felt a great deal of 
 pain in my head, and a burning and throbbing 
 in my eyes, which might have told me that I 
 was doing myself harm ; but I would not yet 
 heed the warning, or speak of it to any one, 
 lest I should be forbidden to pore over my
 
 52 Bessie at School. 
 
 books. But now it could not longer be 
 hidden. I woke one morning in such agony, 
 an with such a dimness over my sight, that, 
 though Bertie was still weak, I was obliged to 
 call her, and send P T v ^n. My governess 
 came, and then the doctor; and, though I 
 could not see his face, the grave tones of the 
 latter, and the directions he gave, told me 
 that it was a very serious matter. 
 
 " And so, indeed, it proved. Day after day, 
 and week after week, I lay in a darkened 
 room, suffering terribly, and in danger of 
 losing my sight for ever. The exhibition was 
 over, the long vacation gone by, before I was 
 about again, and the poor eyes, which had 
 been so sorely tried, were able to bear the 
 light. And there was worse, or what I 
 thought was worse, still to come. My own 
 sense, as well as the doctor's orders, told me 
 plainly that all use of my eyes must be forbid 
 den for some time. ' How long ? ' I asked the 
 doctor. 
 
 " ' For months, perhaps years,' he answered 
 bluntly.
 
 Grandmamma's Story. 53 
 
 " You may think what a blow this was to 
 me ; but after my first sorrow had passed 
 away, I amused myself by forming new plans. 
 If I could not distinguish myself in one way, 
 I would in another. I would do so much for 
 other people, that every one would love and 
 honor me. I had plenty of money, for my 
 father gave me a large allowance ; and I would 
 look after the wants, not only of the poor 
 family of whom I have before spoken, but of 
 many more down in the village. They were 
 a miserable, neglected set, there ; but I would 
 alter all that. I would spend my savings for 
 them, and show them how to be neat and com 
 Portable : with my governess's leave, I would 
 gather the children together, and teach them 
 all I could without the use of my eyes ; and I 
 did not doubt, that, in a short time, I should 
 work a change that would surprise and delight 
 all who saw it, and be greatly to my own 
 credit and glory. 
 
 " Ah ! there was the trouble. I thought I 
 would serve my Master, and let my
 
 54 Bessie at School. 
 
 works be ' seen of men ; ' but I fear it was 
 to glorify myself, not Him, and so He did not 
 will that my little light should fall upon the 
 path which I had chosen for myself. 
 
 "All these plans and purposes came (o 
 nothing, as my former ones had done. I 
 was not only forbidden to read, write, or 
 study, but also to fatigue or exert myself in 
 any way ; and, indeed, I soon found that this 
 was necessary. Walking to the village was 
 not to be thought of. One quarter of the dis- 
 tance brought on the old, terrible pain, and 
 I was forced into quiet by the dread of blind 
 ness. 
 
 " So I was to be laid aside as useless, I 
 thought ; and I fretted myself, and others, till 
 those about me had good reason to think that 
 the work I had now chosen was to make my 
 self as disagreeable as possible. It was in 
 vain that my governess told me how wrong 
 and sinful I was ; I could listen to nothing 
 but the munnurings of my own discontent 
 and disappointment, and refused to look at
 
 Grandmamma's Story. 55 
 
 the blessings which God had left me, or to 
 learn the lesson He was trying to teach 
 me. 
 
 "Thus the rest of the year passed away, 
 and my parents came home, to find me, not 
 the proud, triumphant scholar I had hoped to 
 be, nor yet the beloved and useful benefactor 
 who had gained praise and gratitude from all 
 who knew her ; but a restless, moping, fretful 
 invalid, a burden to herself and all around 
 her." 
 
 " But, grandmamma," said Maggie, as Mrs. 
 Stanton paused for a moment, " you did not 
 tell us what work it was God had left for 
 you." 
 
 "To learn a lesson of patience, humility, 
 and submission to His will, Maggie ; lessons 
 which I was long in taking to heart, and which 
 I had sadly needed. It was long years before 
 my health and the use of my eyes came back 
 to me ; not till I had learned to be contented 
 with the simple every-day duties which God 
 had meant should be my lot in life. What I
 
 56 Bessie at School. 
 
 wished, -was to do great things and serve my 
 God and my fellow-creatures in a way tha 4 ; 
 should be * seen and known of men ; ' but 
 our Father knew that this would not be good 
 for me ; that the pride and vain glory, which 
 were my chief faults, would only be strength- 
 ened and made worse if He allowed me to go 
 on in the paths I had chosen. I can see this 
 now for myself, and bless Him that He put 
 out His hand and led me by the quiet ways 
 where I have learned to find all my duties 
 and my happiness. But, look ! There is dear 
 mamma awake, and the duty I see plainly be 
 fore us now, is to go and give her some beef- 
 tea and jelly, which I think she needs."
 
 m. " 
 
 SCHOOL. 
 
 |UT, grandmamma," said Maggie, 
 when her mother had been bol- 
 stered up, and was enjoying her 
 nice soup, " I do not think waiting on mamma 
 is a bit of a duty ; I think it is a great, great 
 pleasure." 
 
 "So do I, Maggie ; but a pleasure may be a 
 duty : may it not ? " 
 
 Maggie looked doubtful. 
 
 " I don't quite see how, grandmamma. I 
 thought a duty was something one ought to do, 
 but did not quite want to do, like forgiving 
 people when they are unkind to us, or putting 
 away my playthings when I would rather 
 leave them ; or or trying to have a cheer- 
 ful mind about going to school, 'cause it's 
 a help to mamma;" and Maggie smiled a 
 wistful, half-tearful little smile, which went
 
 58 Bessie at School. 
 
 straight to the hearts of her mother and 
 grandmother. 
 
 " But even a disagreeable duty may bring 
 its own pleasure and satisfaction with it, 
 darling, if we only go about it in the right 
 way," said Mrs. Stanton ; " and there is many 
 a pleasant thing that is also a duty. You say 
 you love to wait on your mother ; but suppose 
 you did not like it, would it be right for you 
 to refuse to do what you could for her ? " 
 
 *' No, indeed," answered Maggie, promptly. 
 
 " Mamma seems to like that jelly pretty 
 well," said grandmamma ; " but is there no 
 other reason why she should take it ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Maggie, " because the doctor 
 said she must eat every thing that would make 
 her strong and well." 
 
 " So, then, you see a pleasant thing may be 
 as much a duty as a disagreeable one. Right 
 is right, wrong is wrong, and duty is duty ; 
 and we cannot alter that, however it may 
 affect ourselves. Only we must try, as I 
 meant my story to show you, to do first the
 
 School. 59 
 
 duty that is plainest, and which lies nearest 
 to our hand, for that is God's work, and the 
 thing He means us to do." 
 
 Bessie had been listening very thought- 
 fully to all that passed, and now she said 
 gravely, 
 
 " Grandmamma, I s'pose you mean me to 
 take a lesson of your story, and to understand 
 that if it is Maggie's duty to go to school and 
 study, it is mine to stay at home and not 
 study much, 'cause mamma wishes it. So 
 one way is her duty, and another way is my 
 duty." 
 
 "I did not mean the story more for one 
 than for the other," said Mrs. Stanton, smil- 
 ing ; " but I am glad you want to learn some- 
 thing from it, dear ; and I think you are right 
 in saying that your duty lies in one way, and 
 Maggie's in another. See who is knocking at 
 the door, Maggie." 
 
 It was Patrick to say Miss Ashton was 
 below; and he was told to ask her to walk 
 up, while the children were sent from the
 
 bo Bessie at School. 
 
 room, that mamma might be at liberty fco 
 talk to her. 
 
 Miss Ashton did not stay very long; but it 
 seemed to Maggie and Bessie an age, as they 
 sat upon a hall chair, and waited for her to 
 come from mamma's room ; so that, as Maggie 
 said, " They might see if her look had any 
 good news for them." 
 
 Not only her looks, but her pleasant voice 
 also brought good news to them ; for, as sho 
 met the two wistful faces which gazed up into 
 hers, she stopped and said, smiling, " So I 
 am to have two dear little scholars from here, 
 instead of one, if your papa will consent." 
 
 Instantly every corner of Maggie's face 
 brightened into smiles and dimples ; while 
 Bessie, slipping off the chair, seized upon Miss 
 Ashton's hand.. 
 
 " Oh ! could you, Miss Ashton ? could you, 
 really?" she exclaimed. 
 
 " Could I what ? Agree to take a loving 
 little girl with her sister, and teach her just as 
 much as her mother thinks it best for her to
 
 School. 61 
 
 learn ? Well, I think I shall try and see how 
 it will work." 
 
 At this Maggie too came down from the 
 chair, and took Miss Ashton's other hand. 
 
 " I am so very much obliged to you, ma'am," 
 she said, too much delighted to remember that 
 the lady was almost a stranger to her. 
 
 " Yes," said Bessie, " you can't know how 
 very much we thank you, 'cause you don't 
 know how much accustomed Maggie and I are 
 to each other." 
 
 " And I hope you will soon both become ac- 
 customed to me, and learn to love me," said 
 Miss Ashton ; and then she kissed them, and 
 telling them she hoped to see them at school 
 on the next Monday, she went away ; and the 
 children ran back to their mother's room to 
 make very sure that the good news was true. 
 
 " Yes," mamma said, " it had all been ar- 
 ranged." Miss Ashton was very kind, and 
 said she would give Bessie lessons by herself, 
 If she were not able to keep up with the rest 
 of the class, and she might amuse herself qui
 
 62 Bessie at School. 
 
 etly during the rest of the time ; and nothing 
 now remained but to hear what papa thought 
 of this new plan. Only one promise mamma 
 said she would require ; and that was, that 
 when the weather was such that she did not 
 think it best for Bessie to go out, Maggie 
 should go alone cheerfully. Maggie readily 
 agreed, and when papa came home and said, 
 since mamma and Miss Ashton thought it 
 would do, he should make no objection, the 
 two little sisters were so happy in the ar- 
 rangement which kept them together, that 
 even Maggie had no room for dread of the 
 new school and new faces. 
 
 So on the next Monday morning, there were 
 two serious, but not sad, little damsels who 
 stood one on each side of mamma, ready hatted 
 and cloaked, waiting till papa should give the 
 word to start for school. Serious, for this was 
 a grave and important matter to them ; quite 
 a new step in life, and to Maggie a very trying 
 one. Still, Bessie was with her, so she could 
 bear it.
 
 School. 63 
 
 Mr. Bradford gave the word, and their 
 mother was hugged and kissed, as though the 
 parting were to be for a month, instead of three 
 hours, and they went away. Mamma had bidden 
 them good-by very cheerily, and it was as well 
 they did not see the tear or two that rolled 
 down her pale cheek, or how sorrowfully she 
 looked after them, as she thought how she 
 should miss their sweet company during those 
 morning hours when they had been accus- 
 tomed to be with her. But she knew it was 
 best ; and so, after the way of dear mammas, 
 would not let them see her own regret, lest it 
 should add to their trouble. 
 
 Mrs. and Miss Ashton lived but a short dis- 
 tance from Mrs. Bradford, and in a curious, 
 old-fashioned house that was very different 
 from most city houses. It was only two sto- 
 ries high, but very wide and deep, and away 
 at the back stretched a garden as old-fashioned 
 as the house, with stiif box hedges, gravel 
 walks bordered with white pebbles, a fountain 
 in the centre, and at the farther end two old
 
 64 Bessie at School. 
 
 summer-houses covered with grape-vines. The 
 two sides which bordered on the street were 
 guarded by a high picket-fence, the third by a 
 low stone wall beyond which were half a doz- 
 en vacant lots ; while on the opposite corner, 
 at right angles with Miss Ashton's house, lived 
 Mr. Peters, who kept the school which Harry 
 and Fred attended, and his boys were accus- 
 tomed to use these lots as their ball-ground. 
 
 Maggie and Bessie thought it a very re- 
 markable and pleasant circumstance that these 
 two houses, standing thus by themselves on one 
 square, should be occupied by the two schools, 
 and it gave them a more homelike feeling to 
 know that their brothers were so near. 
 
 Mr. Bradford asked for Miss Ashton, and 
 when the young lady came down, he said a few 
 words to her, and then kissing his two little 
 daughters left them in her care. Miss Ashton 
 talked very pleasantly and kindly to them as 
 she led them upstairs, followed by Jane, who 
 had also come to take off the children's hats 
 and cloaks ; but they both felt very homesick
 
 School. 65 
 
 as papa walked away, and had no heart to an- 
 swer her. It seemed worse still when their 
 walking-things were taken off, and Jane went, 
 looking very unwilling to leave them. Maggie's 
 eyes were full of tears, and Bessie only kept 
 hers back by the help of a feeling that she 
 was there to be a comfort to her sister, and so 
 must not give way. 
 
 But things appeared brighter when Miss 
 Ashton took them into the large, pleasant 
 front room where the rest of the class were 
 assembled. Here were seven little girls, and 
 among them were Lily Norris, Gracie Howard, 
 and Nellie and Carrie Ransom, all looking 
 very happy, and very much pleased to see 
 Maggie and Bessie, and not at all as though 
 school were a thing to be dreaded. 
 
 Place was soon found for the two sisters, 
 and they were seated together, with Lily on 
 Maggie's other side, and Gracie by Bessie. 
 Next came the Ransoms. All these six were 
 well acquainted and were glad to meet ; but 
 the three on the other side of the room were 
 6
 
 66 Bessie at School. 
 
 strangers to them and to one another, and 
 looked shy and uncomfortable, and Bessie, as 
 she talked with her young friends, felt sorry 
 for them, and thought she would speak to 
 them, if she only knew their names and what 
 to say. 
 
 Presently Miss Ashton, who had left the- 
 room, came back with another child, and this 
 one made the number of the class ten. The 
 last comer was a pale, sad-eyed, little girl, 
 dressed in deep mourning ; and she, too, was a 
 stranger to all the others. 
 
 " Now," said Miss Ashton, " I shall leave 
 you for ten minutes to become acquainted. 
 Then my mother will come, and we will open 
 school." 
 
 " But, Miss Ashton," said Bessie, as the 
 lady turned to go. 
 
 " Well, dear." 
 
 Bessie hesitated for a moment, for she 
 thought perhaps Miss Ashton would think she 
 was taking a liberty ; but when she saw with 
 what a kind smile she looked at her, she made
 
 School. 67 
 
 up her mind to speak She did so, not bold- 
 ly, but with an outspoken, yet modest little 
 way, that was all her own. 
 
 " You see we don't know each other's 
 names," she said ; " and I thought if you was 
 to in-tro-duce us, maybe we could be ac- 
 quainted sooner." 
 
 " To be sure," said Miss Ashton, smiling. 
 " Thank you for reminding me, Bessie. I 
 did not think the first lesson taught here this 
 morning would be one of politeness, to be 
 learned by myself." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Ashton ! " said Bessie, " I would 
 not be so saucy as to say you were not polite. 
 I only thought perhaps you forgot." 
 
 " And so I did, dear ; but true politeness 
 should teach us to remember all those little 
 things which may make others comfortable, 
 or put them at their ease; and I am afraid 
 we grown people often forget that children 
 need such attentions as well as those who are 
 older." 
 
 Then she introduced them all to one another, 
 nd went away.
 
 68 Bessie at School. 
 
 The four whose names were new, were Bello 
 Powers, Dora Johnson, Laura Middleton, and 
 Fanny Leroy. Belle was the little girl in 
 black, who looked so sad. 
 
 " Have any of you looked what is in your 
 desks ? " asked Nellie Ransom, by way of be- 
 ginning a conversation. " Carrie and I were 
 the first here, and Miss Ashton showed us. 
 There's a slate, and a spelling-book, and a 
 drawing-book, and a geography, and lots of 
 things. Lift up the covers and look. She'll 
 let you." 
 
 No sooner said than done. Ten low desks 
 were ranged around the room, each with a 
 chair of suitable size before it ; and one had 
 been given to each child. Every lid, but one, 
 was raised at Nellie's word's, and little heads 
 were popped within to discover what lay hidden 
 there. This gave food enough for talk ; even 
 Maggie had something to say ; only one tongue 
 was silent, and that was Belle's. 
 
 " I guess that is * Sulky Sue,' " whispered 
 Gracie Howard to Maggie and Bessie, looking
 
 School. 69 
 
 over, at the mournful, quiet child. " She'd 
 better turn her face to the wall, till she 
 comes to." 
 
 " Oh, don't ! " answered Maggie. " She'll 
 hear you ; " and Bessie said, " I think she feels 
 sorry about something, and her dress is so 
 black. Maybe somebody of hers is dead." 
 
 " Yes," said Maggie ; " and I'm real sorry 
 for her. I would go and speak to her, if if 
 I only knew what to say." 
 
 " I'll go," said Bessie, and rising, she 
 walked over to Belle. She did not know what 
 to say either ; but she did what was better : 
 she put her arm around the child's neck, and 
 kissed her lips in a way which told Belle of 
 the sympathy that was in her heart. 
 
 Then Belle's tears overflowed, and, putting 
 both her own arms about Bessie's waist, she 
 laid her head against her, and cried silently. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " whispered Bessie. 
 
 " 1 want my mamma," sobbed the child. 
 
 " But you know you'll see her pretty soon," 
 said Bessie. " We are only going to stay in
 
 70 Bessie at School. 
 
 school a little while, and then we'll go home 
 and see our mammas." 
 
 " I'll never see my mamma again," said 
 Belle ; " never, never, till I'm dead myself ; 
 and I wish God would let me be dead now, 
 only then papa would be all alone, and he says 
 I am all his comfort. ' But, oh dear ! mamma 
 is never there for me to go home to." 
 
 At this, Bessie's tears also ran over ; and as 
 the other children, drawn by Belle's distress, 
 gathered about them, she pointed to the black 
 dress, and said with trembling lips, " Her 
 mamma." 
 
 Then Maggie, forgetting to feel strange, went 
 down on her knees beside Belle, and began to 
 caress her; and Gracie, full of remorse foi 
 having called her " Sulky Sue," seized on one 
 of her hands, and began kissing it ; while the 
 others stood around in silent pity. 
 
 Their sympathy did Belle good. She did 
 not mourn the less for her lost mother, but 
 she did not now feel so lonesome and cast 
 astray as she had done a moment since ; and
 
 School. 7 1 
 
 lifting her face with a faint smile struggling 
 through her tears, she held up her lips to Bes- 
 Bie for another kiss, saying, " I love you, you're 
 good ; they're all good." 
 
 As she spoke, the folding-doors at the end 
 of the room were thrown open ; and Miss 
 Ashton appeared, and hurried towards them, 
 rather dismayed at finding her young flock in 
 trouble so soon. It was speedily explained ; 
 and Maggie and Bessie felt sure that they 
 should love their new teacher, as they saw 
 how gentle and tender she was with the moth- 
 erless little one. She did not say much, for 
 Mrs. Ashton was waiting to open school ; but, 
 after sending the others to their seats, she led 
 Belle to her own chair, which stood before the 
 table in the centre of the room, arid lifted her 
 upon her lap, laying her head upon her bosom, 
 and passing her hand over the child's hair and 
 face with a soothing touch which soon quieted 
 her sobs, and made her feel that Miss Ashton 
 was her friend and comforter, as well as her 
 teacher.
 
 72 Bessie at School. 
 
 The opening of the folding-doors had given 
 to view a second room, where were gathered ten 
 larger girls, from fourteen to seventeen years 
 old : very tall young ladies they seemed to 
 Maggie and Bessie ; and Mrs. Ashton, a grave, 
 elderly lady, in a widow's dress, sat just with- 
 in the doors, where she could be seen and 
 heard from both rooms. She opened school 
 with a short prayer, and then said a few words 
 to all the children, large and small, telling 
 them she hoped they would be obedient, happy, 
 industrious, and kind to one another. 
 
 " Now I would like to hear the names of 
 all these little girls," she said. 
 
 The answers came very well until it was 
 Maggie's turn to give hers, but the poor child 
 was in an agony of bashfulness, and could by 
 no means speak. While Mrs. Ashton was 
 talking, she had happened to look up, and 
 caught a pair of mischievous, dancing, black 
 eyes fixed upon her from the other room. 
 After that, she could not help glancing up at 
 them every moment or two ; and each time
 
 School. 73 
 
 ahe did so, her color deepened and deepened, 
 and her head sank lower and lower ; for the 
 owner of the black eyes kept smiling and 
 nodding, making odd faces, and shaking her 
 finger, till Maggie did not know whether to 
 laugh or cry; and by the time the question 
 came to her, her small stock of courage and 
 her voice were both gone. 
 
 " Cannot you tell me your name, my dear ? " 
 asked Mrs. Ashton. 
 
 "Her name is Maggie Stanton Bradford," 
 said Bessie, taking her sister by the hand. 
 
 " You should let your sister speak for her- 
 self, my dear," said the lady. 
 
 " No, ma'am," said Bessie, respectfully, but 
 steadily ; " I came to school to be of use and 
 comfort to Maggie, and when she don't want 
 to speak 'cause she feels shy, why she likes 
 me to do it for her, so I have to. And, ma'am, 
 you said you wanted us to be industrious ; but 
 I'm 'fraid I can't. I have to be rather lazy." 
 
 " My dear child," said Mrs. Ashton, " you 
 surely do not come to school to be lazy."
 
 74 Bessie at School. 
 
 " Oh, yes, ma'am ! " said Bessie, gravely. 
 " Mamma 'spressly said that I was not to 
 study much, and that was condition that I 
 came to school." 
 
 Bessie was growing rather frightened her 
 self at having to speak before so many ; but 
 she thought she ought to let Mrs. Ashton 
 know how and why she had come to school, 
 and what was to be expected of her ; and 
 that she might as well have her say out at 
 once. 
 
 The other children were all listening to her 
 in great astonishment, and some of the great 
 girls in the back room were beginning to 
 laugh. Bessie wondered why they did so. 
 and thought they were not very polite. Mrs. 
 Ashton heard her with a half smile, breaking 
 over her pale face, and Miss Ashton was smil- 
 ing outright. 
 
 "Oh!" said Mrs. Ashton, "I understand, 
 .You are Bessie Bradford. Mary, I think you 
 should make this matter a little plainer." 
 
 Miss Ashton said she would do so ; and
 
 School. 75 
 
 then the doors were closed again, and the 
 business of the day began. 
 
 " Now, little Belle," said Miss Ashton, " will 
 you go to your seat ? " 
 
 Belle clung to her teacher, and whispered 
 something in her ear. 
 
 " Belle wishes very much to sit by Bessie 
 Bradford," said Miss Ashton. " How shall 
 we fix it? Will Bessie change her seat, or 
 will Maggie or Gracie give up hers. It is 
 only for to-day ; to-morrow, Belle will fee] 
 more at home, and that you are all her 
 friends." 
 
 Maggie had not yet recovered from the 
 effect of the black eyes, although they were 
 now shut from view ; and she tightened her 
 hold of Bessie's hand, feeling that she could 
 scarcely bear to be separated from- her just 
 now. 
 
 Gracie did not want to give up her seat, 
 either, for she liked to sit by Bessie ; but 
 while she hesitated, and Miss Ashton waited, 
 she remembered when they were at Quam
 
 j6 Bessie at School. 
 
 Beach summer before last, and went to Sun- 
 day school in the barn, Maggie had gone to 
 sit by Mamie Stone, a girl whom no other 
 child would have near her, and with whom 
 Maggie had just had a quarrel. And she 
 thought, if she would do so much for a quar- 
 relsome child, who had been unkind to her 
 and her sister, might not she give up her seat 
 to this little, sad, motherless one, who already 
 looked on the dear Bessie as her friend ? She 
 had called her " Sulky Sue," too ! 
 
 Maggie would have been very much aston 
 ished if she had been told that the small act 
 of self-denial and forgiveness which she had 
 long since forgotten was bearing fruit now ; 
 but so it was, and, jumping up, Gracie said, 
 " Belle may have my seat by Bessie to-day 
 and to-morrow, too, Miss Ashton." 
 
 Gracie felt quite repaid when she saw 
 Belle's grateful smile, and the comfort she 
 seemed to take in being close by Bessie. 
 
 Miss Ashton said they would have no reg- 
 alar lessons for that day, as she must first
 
 School 77 
 
 find out how much each one knew, and then 
 arrange their studies ; and she told Bessie she 
 thought she had misunderstood her mamma's 
 meaning. She did not wish her to be a lazy 
 girl: she wanted her to be industrious, and 
 try to do well whatever was given her to do ; 
 but she had feared Bessie would not be satis- 
 fied if she were not allowed to go on as fast 
 as Maggie, and some of the others ; and thai 
 she did not think would be wise. When she 
 went home, she must ask her mamma if it 
 were not so. 
 
 Then she questioned them all in the multi- 
 plication and addition tables, and in geography, 
 made them spell words of different lengths, 
 ^nd heard each child read aloud ; after which 
 she said she should divide her class into two ; 
 Bessie, Belle, and Carrie Ransom in one, and 
 the rest, she thought, could keep on together. 
 Then she set their lessons for the next day, 
 and afterwards read them an interesting story 
 of a good and wise young prince, who had 
 lived many, many years ago. This was Misa
 
 78 Bessie at School. 
 
 Ashton's way of teaching history ; she would 
 read or tell them of some good or great per- 
 son on one day, and, the next, she would 
 question them about her story, and see how 
 much they remembered. 
 
 In fact, she made all their studies interest- 
 ing: she had such a pleasant, easy way of 
 teaching. For instance, she would say, " Belle, 
 how many are three and three ? " 
 
 Belle could not remember. 
 
 " Suppose three little girls are going to 
 have a tea-party, you and Bessie and Carrie, 
 and three more, Maggie and Gracie and Lily, 
 come and ask to 'be invited. If you say, yes, 
 then how many little girls would there be at 
 the party ? " 
 
 " Six," answered Belle, promptly ; and Car- 
 rie said, " But maybe we would be dis'bliging, 
 and say no, and then we would be only 
 three ; " at which the other children laughed, 
 and so did Miss Ashton ; but Belle never for- 
 got again that three and three made six. 
 
 They learned none the slower for this pleas
 
 School. 
 
 79 
 
 ant, take-it-home-to-one's-self kind of teaching, 
 you maj be sure ; and, as the weeks went by, 
 there was not one of the little class whose 
 friends did not find her greatly improved.
 
 IV. 
 
 SCHOOLMATES. 
 
 IT twelve o'clock Miss Ashton dis- 
 missed her class, and the large girls 
 in the other room had a recess ; but 
 Maggie and Bessie did not go home imme- 
 diately, for Maggie had a music-lesson to take 
 for half an hour, and her sister waited for her. 
 During this time, she had leave to amuse her- 
 self as she pleased ; for Mrs. and Miss Ashton 
 soon found she was a child who could be 
 trusted, and that there was no need to watch 
 her lest she should get into mischief. 
 
 Sometimes, if the day were fine and mild, 
 Miss Ashton would put on her wrappings, and 
 let her run in the queer old garden, and make 
 acquaintance with the pigeons and peacocks 
 who lived there. Sometimes she would look
 
 Schoolmates. 81 
 
 at a picture-book, or at some shells Miss Ash- 
 ton would lend her, or draw on her own slate ; 
 and sometimes she would be carried off by 
 some of the larger girls, with whom she soon 
 became a great pet, and who found much 
 amusement in her wise, ladylike little ways 
 and droll sayings. But her great enjoyment 
 was to stand at the windows of the back 
 school-room, which looked out over the garden 
 and vacant lots, and watch the boys at their 
 play. 
 
 During school-hours, the doors betreen the 
 rooms were sometimes open, sometimes shut, 
 as was most convenient ; and Maggie was al- 
 ways very glad when the latter was the case, 
 for that pair of black eyes continued to be a 
 great disturbance to her even after she had 
 learned to know and like their owner. This 
 was Miss Kate Maynard, a bright, merry, 
 mischievous girl, full of fun and spirits, which 
 she did not always keep in proper check, so 
 that though she was a generous, kind-hearted 
 girl, she was often bringing herself and others 
 
 6
 
 82 Bessie at School. 
 
 into trouble. More than one lesson had not 
 yet taught her that 
 
 "Evil is wrought by want of thought, 
 As well as by want of heart." 
 
 It did not enter her mind for one moment that 
 she was causing real suffering to that timid 
 little child in the other room by her teasing 
 looks and signs and grimaces. It amused 
 Kate to see how against her own will Maggie's 
 eyes seemed drawn to hers, and how, after 
 every new glance, her blushes grew deeper 
 and deeper, and she fidgeted more and more 
 uneasily on her seat. Katie Maynard would 
 have been shocked at the thought of giving a 
 blow or a pinch to the child, but Maggie would 
 have readily taken the blow to be free from 
 those tantalizing eyes. It was " fun " to Katie, 
 and she " did not think" what it cost the little 
 girl. 
 
 On this first day at school, Miss Ashton 
 asked Bessie how she would amuse herself 
 while Maggie took her lesson ; and the child,
 
 Schoolmates. 83 
 
 who did not yet feel quite at home, begged 
 that she might go down to the parlor with her 
 sister. Miss Ashton consented, but said she 
 feared she would find it rather dull ; and her 
 words proved true. Bessie stood by in loving 
 admiration while Maggie played over one of 
 the simple airs her mother had taught her; 
 but when it came to exercises, and " one, two, 
 three, one, two, three," she found it pretty 
 tiresome. She wandered around the room a 
 few moments, and then, hearing the sound of 
 laughing and talking in the hall, opened the 
 door, and looked out to see what was going 
 on. Several of the older girls were there, 
 and as soon as Bessie's little head appeared, 
 they saw and called to her. 
 
 " There's Bessie Bradford," said one. 
 
 " Oh, you dear little thing ! " cried another ; 
 " come out here and talk to us." 
 
 Bessie hesitated a moment ; and then, think- 
 ing it might be more amusing talking to the 
 foung ladies than to stay quiet and hear 
 Maggie practising, went slowly towards them.
 
 &4 Bessie at School. 
 
 In an instant Katie Maynard snatched her up 
 in her arms, and, after waltzing gayly through 
 the hall with her, brought her back to the 
 stairs, where she seated herself with her prize 
 upon her knee, and four or five other girls 
 gathered about them. 
 
 " How old are you, Bessie ? " asked one. 
 
 " Six years and a half," answered Bessie ; 
 " and when I have another birthday, I'll be 
 seven." 
 
 " Here's a doughnut for you, Bessie," said 
 another. 
 
 " No, thank you," said Bessie. " Mamma 
 never gives me doughnuts." 
 
 " You'd better have it," said the young lady. 
 " It is very nice, and there's a big raisin in the 
 middle." 
 
 Bessie looked longingly at the doughnut, for 
 she felt rather hungry, and it certainly looked 
 very nice ; but she shook her head decidedly 
 
 " No, thank you," she said again. 
 
 " Did your mamma forbid you ever to eat 
 them," said the young lady.
 
 Schoolmates. 85 
 
 " She did not say we must not ; but it's jusl 
 the same," said Bessie ; " for she never gives 
 them to us, and I do not think it is a kind of 
 cake she would like us to eat." 
 
 " And so you came to school ' to be of use 
 to your sister, and to be lazy,' did you ? " 
 asked Kate Maynard. 
 
 " I believe I made a little mistake about 
 that," answered the child- " Miss Ashton 
 made me understand it better ; and, when I 
 go home, I am going to ask mamma if she is 
 right." 
 
 " I don't see how you dared to speak out 
 to Mrs. Ashton about it," said Fanny Berry. 
 " Where did you get so much pluck, you little 
 mite ? " 
 
 " Were you not afraid ? " asked Kate. 
 
 " Yes'm, a little. But then you see I had 
 to tell her." 
 
 " And why did you have to tell her ? " 
 
 " 'Cause I was afraid she was 'specting me 
 to do what mamma did not want me to do." 
 
 " But if mamma had said you were not to-
 
 86 Bessie at School. 
 
 play much, would you have been in such a 
 hurry to tell Mrs. Ashton ? " asked Fanny. 
 
 " You need not ask that after the doughnut," 
 said Kate, before Bessie could speak. 
 
 " Are you always so particular about doing 
 as your mamma wishes, whether she knows it 
 or not ? " said the young lady who had offered 
 the doughnut. 
 
 " Why, yes," said Bessie. " Are not you ? " 
 
 At this, two or three of the girls laughed ; 
 and Kate Maynard said, " That shoe pinches : 
 does it not, Mary ? No, indeed, Bessie : filial 
 obedience and respect are not among Mary 
 Morton's weaknesses." 
 
 " Do you mean she don't mind her mother ? " 
 asked Bessie, looking up with astonishment at 
 Miss Morton, who colored, tossed her head, 
 and then laughed. 
 
 *' Something that way," answered Kate. 
 
 " I am no worse than others," said Mary. 
 
 " I don't know," said Kate. " I do not set 
 
 myself up for being very good, and I own I 
 
 'am not always as considerate and dutiful to
 
 Schoolmates. 87 
 
 my mother as I should be ; but I do not think 
 my conscience would give me much rest if I 
 spoke to her the way you dp to your mother, 
 Mary." 
 
 " Your conscience need not trouble itself 
 about my doings," said Mary, sharply. 
 
 " But, Bessie," put in Fanny Berry, anxious 
 to turn aside the threatened quarrel, " suppose 
 your mother told you to do one thing, and 
 Miss Ashton told you to do just the opposite. 
 What then ? " 
 
 " Course I'd mind my own mamma," said 
 Bessie ; " but I don't believe Miss Ashton 
 would tell me to do what mamma did not 
 want me to. I think she is very good and 
 nice, and I am sure she wouldn't want little 
 girls to be dis'bedient." 
 
 " Maybe not," said Fanny. " But suppose 
 she ordered you to do something which your 
 mamma had not forbidden, but of which you 
 were sure she would disapprove : how then ? " 
 
 " I'd say, ' Please to 'scuse me, ma'am ; but 
 'tis quite unposs^le.' "
 
 88 Bessie at School. 
 
 The girls laughed. 
 
 " But yon are expected to mind your teachers 
 when you come to school," said Kate ; " and 
 you promised Mrs. Ashton you would be obe- 
 dient : did you not ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Bessie, " but " she paused, 
 
 and leaned her cheek thoughtfully on one little 
 hand, while she drew the forefinger of the 
 other slowly over the buttons of Kate's dress. 
 She knew very well how she felt about it her- 
 self, and that she was right ; but she could not 
 seem to make these teasing girls understand 
 how it was. She had a suspicion that they 
 were laughing at her too ; and she began to 
 feel angry, as was plainly to be seen by her 
 rising color and trembling lip ; and Kate, who 
 was already sorry for her carelessness in trou- 
 bling the sensitive conscience and puzzling 
 the thoughtful little head, said coaxingly, 
 " You are not vexed, Bessie ? " 
 
 Bessie looked gravely at her for a moment ; 
 and then, as the angry flush faded away, she 
 answered, " I believe I was going to be."
 
 Schoolmates. 89 
 
 " And you've changed your mind, have 
 you ? " asked Mary Morton. 
 
 " I think I ought to be sorry for you," said 
 the child. 
 
 " Why ? " asked Fanny. 
 
 " 'Cause you don't have such wise and good 
 mammas as mine to give you understanding 
 of what is right without bothering little girls 
 like me who don't know the best way to talk 
 about it," answered Bessie, with an air of 
 grave reproof which was extremely amusing 
 to the girls, who now laughed uproariously. 
 
 Bessie tried hard to slip from Kate May- 
 nard's knee ; but the young lady held her fast, 
 saying, 
 
 " We've caught it now, girls, and served us 
 right too. Sit still, Bessie : you shall not be 
 teased any more." 
 
 " You cannot make the two duties agree, 
 eh, Bessie ? " said Julia Graffcon. " Well, you 
 are not the first person who has been troubled 
 in that way." 
 
 The word " duty " brought a thought to
 
 po Bessie at School. 
 
 Bessie's mind ; and suddenly looking up, with 
 the light breaking over her face, she ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 " Now I know every thing about it ! God 
 gave me to mamma for her own little girl, to 
 mind her first, and to do every thing I know 
 she will like. That is the nearest duty, and ] 
 must not let any thing put me away from it. 
 But mamma has a great deal of wisdom and 
 care for her children, and if she did not have 
 such trust in Miss Ashton to make us do the 
 things she likes, I know she would not send 
 Maggie and me to her. So we are to mind 
 Miss Ashton all we can, without dis'beying 
 mamma." 
 
 " Pretty well reasoned," said Julia ; and 
 Kate, giving Bessie a squeeze and a kiss, ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 " You know a thing or two, do you not ? " 
 
 " I did not know that of myself," said Bes- 
 sie. " The other day grandmamma told us a 
 story to show us how we must first do the 
 duty we were quite sure about ; and when that
 
 Schoolmates. 91 
 
 foung lady spoke about two duties, it made 
 me think how it was." 
 
 Her hearers smiled, and looked approvingly 
 at one another ; but there was something in 
 the child's simple honesty and innocence 
 which touched even these thoughtless school- 
 girls, and kept them from putting into words 
 their wonder and admiration at the clear, 
 straightforward way in which she had helped 
 herself out of the difficulty into which they, 
 in their love of mischief, had brought her. 
 
 Kate kept her word, and did not allow Bes- 
 sie to be annoyed or teased any more ; but her 
 little head was still puzzled by some of the 
 things she had heard these great girls say. 
 She put by these thoughts, however, till she 
 should be able to speak to her mother about 
 them, and chatted away sociably with Kate 
 and the others, till Maggie had finished her 
 lesson, and Jane came to take them home. 
 
 " There's straightforward honesty and wise 
 simplicity for you," said Kate Maynard, as the 
 front door closed behind the two little girla
 
 92 Bessie at School. 
 
 and their nurse, and the bell rang to call her- 
 self and her schoolmates back to their studies. 
 
 " She won't be quite so squeamishly truthful 
 and obedient when she has been at school a 
 month," said Julia (irafton. 
 
 " I don't know about that," said Kate. " I 
 believe she will. It is easy to see that truth 
 and obedience are not only matters of habit, 
 but matters of conscience with her ; and I do 
 not think she is a child whom it will be easy 
 to turn from what she believes to be right." 
 
 " Wait till she's tried, and you'll see," said 
 Mary Morton. " It don't do to be too par- 
 ticular at school. One would be in all kinds 
 of trouble." 
 
 " I have not generally found that strict 
 truth and honesty were so apt to bring people 
 into trouble, as the contrary," said Fanny 
 Berry, dryly, as they entered the school-room. 
 
 " Well, my darlings," said mamma, as the 
 two bright faces appeared before her, " you 
 do not look as if school were such a sad affair 
 after all."
 
 Schoolmates. 93 
 
 " Oh, no, mamma ! " said Maggie : " it is 
 not sad at all, but a very nice affair. We like 
 it very much, and Miss Ashton is so kind, and 
 teaches us so interestingly. But I like it best 
 when the doors are shut, and the young ladies 
 in the other room can't see me." 
 
 " And what does my Bessie say ? " asked 
 Mrs. Bradford. 
 
 Bessie had quite as much to say in praise 
 of the new school, and the little tongues ran 
 on till mamma had been told of all they had 
 heard and seen that morning. 
 
 "And, mamma," said Maggie, "I've found 
 out that something was true that grand- 
 mamma told me the other day. She said my 
 shyness might stand in the way of my being 
 of good to others ; and this morning I found 
 how it could be. There was a little girl whose 
 mother was dead, and she was shy too, and 
 felt very sad ; and I wanted to say a kind 
 thing to her, but somehow I couldn't. But 
 Bessie went and spoke to her, and was of 
 great comfort to her; and so I saw what
 
 94 Bessie at School. 
 
 grandmamma meant, and why I ought to try 
 and cure myself of being shy." 
 
 " My dear little girl ! " said her mother, ten- 
 derly ; and in her heart she thanked God that 
 her child was so ready to take to heart and 
 learn the lesson she needed. 
 
 Then she asked about the little one who 
 had lost her dear mother ; and when she 
 heard that her name was Belle Powers, she 
 said that, when she was a young lady, she had 
 a very intimate friend who had married a gen- 
 tleman named Powers, and moved away to 
 the South ; but for many years she had heard 
 nothing of her ; and she now wondered if she 
 might not have been Belle's mother. What 
 made her think so, was, that her friend's own 
 name had been Belle. If it were really so, 
 she would like to be kind to the little child 
 for her mother's sake, as well as her own. 
 
 Bessie told her that Belle had no brothera 
 or sisters ; and how Miss Ashton had said that 
 her papa had sent her to school, thinking that 
 it might do her good, and make her forget her
 
 Schoolmates. 95 
 
 grief to be with other children ; and that they 
 must' all remember that she was lonely and 
 sorrowful, and be very kind to her. 
 
 Mrs. Bradford was very sorry for little 
 Belle, and she said the children might tell 
 her to ask her father to let her come home 
 with them some day after school, and have a 
 good play in their merry, happy nursery. Of 
 course, Maggie and Bessie immediately be- 
 came anxious to have the day fixed, and 
 mamma said, if they were to do a kind thing, 
 it might as well be done at once ; so they 
 could ask Belle for the next day but one. 
 
 Bessie told her mother of the mistake she 
 had made, and how Miss Ashton had ex- 
 plained it to her; and mamma said their 
 teacher was quite right, and that she should 
 herself have made Bessie understand more 
 plainly what she wished her to do. 
 
 " But, mamma," said the little girl, " there 
 was one thing that was very strange. Those 
 young ladies in Mrs. Ashton's class seemed to 
 think it was very surprising that I told her
 
 96 Bessie at School. 
 
 what I thought you meant me to do, and I 
 almost think they would not have told her 
 themselves ; and they troubled me so about 
 minding you, that I hardly knew how it was. 
 I think they might have been doing something 
 better : don't you, mamma ? " 
 
 Mrs. Bradford asked what she meant, and 
 Bessie told all that had passed between her- 
 self and the girls. 
 
 Mamma said she had answered very well ; 
 and that she was glad she knew what was 
 right herself, whether she had made the others 
 understand it or no. 
 
 " And you were quite right about Miss Ash- 
 ton, my darling," she said ; " for if I had not 
 perfect confidence in her, and did not believe 
 she would guide and teach my little girls as I 
 would wish to do myself, I should not have 
 put you under her care. And you must try 
 to remember this, dear, if Miss Ashton should 
 give you an order or rule which you think 
 doubtful. Many things which would be right 
 and proper for you at home, would not be best
 
 tSchoolmates. y*j 
 
 in school ; and, again, that which is wise and 
 necessary in school, would not do at home. 
 In all this, you must let her judge for you, 
 and do as you are bid. Then you may 
 afterwards tell me, and see what I have 
 to say." 
 
 " Mamma," said Maggie, " I am afraid it 
 will be harder to be good at school, than it is 
 at home." 
 
 " I dare say it will, Maggie : you will prob- 
 ably have some trials and temptations there 
 which you would not have at Itome. But 
 you must remember, dear, that ' our Father's ' 
 strong and loving care is with us in the one 
 place as well as in the other. When tempta- 
 tion creeps in, you have only to ask His help ; 
 and He will give you the strength and grace 
 you need to bid it begone. And if we feel we 
 are likely to be tempted, it must only make us 
 all the more watchful, Maggie." 
 
 " Yes, mamma," said Maggie : " we must 
 keep our hands all the more closely on the 
 silver thread of conscience, and look all the 
 7
 
 98 Bessie at School. 
 
 more at the golden letters on the guide-posts ; 
 must we not ? " 
 
 It wat more than a year since Colonel Rush 
 had first told his story of " Benito'" to these 
 dear children : but it never seemed to lose 
 its freshness or interest for them ; and he 
 often wondered, and was grateful, as he saw 
 how they had taken it home to themselves, 
 making it fit into their own young lives, and 
 of their own accord drawing all manner of 
 sweet and useful lessons from it. 
 
 " And, grandmamma," continued Maggie, 
 to her grandmother who was sitting by, " I 
 found out this morning how there could be 
 other work to do for Jesus in school besides 
 studying, and reciting well, and obeying my 
 teachers. I think Bessie was doing His work 
 when she went and comforted Belle ; and 
 Gracie did a little bit of \vark for Him when 
 eb <? gave up her seat to her." 
 
 "Did my Maggie find nothing?" asked 
 mamma. 
 
 " I'm most afraid I did not, mamma," said
 
 Schoolmates. c,p 
 
 Maggie, slowly ; " at least, if I did, it was 
 such a very little thing, it is not worth to 
 speak about." 
 
 " But I should like to hear," said Mrs 
 Bradford. 
 
 " "Well, marnma, Carrie Ransom had a copy- 
 book with a blue cover, and I had one with a 
 pink one, and Carrie liked the pink one best, 
 and I said I would change with her ; but it 
 was not a very great thing to do, for I did not 
 care much about the color." 
 
 " But you did it because Carrie cared, and 
 you wanted to be kind to her : did you not, 
 dear?" 
 
 " Yes, mamma." 
 
 " And Jesus put it into your heart to do it ; 
 so was it not His work ? " 
 
 " Yes, I believe so, mamma ; and I remem- 
 ber now grandmamma said it was not so much 
 what we did for God, as how we did it, and 
 why we did it, that made it His own work." 
 
 A pleasant surprise awaited Maggie and 
 Bessie that afternoon, while they were out
 
 ioo Bessie at School. 
 
 with the other children and their nurses 
 Baby Annie was taking her first walk upon 
 the pavement, led by her two proud little 
 sisters, each holding a hand, while Mammy 
 followed close behind. 
 
 The little one, enchanted with her new 
 performance, was chattering away in her own 
 sweet language, not in the least disturbed by 
 the fact that no one but herself understood it ; 
 and Maggie and Bessie were watching, and 
 listening to her in delighted satisfaction, when 
 a pleased voice exclaimed, " Oh, there they 
 are ! and a nice baby with them ! " and Belle 
 Powers came running up to them. She scarce- 
 ly looked like the sad child of the morning, so 
 glad was she to see them ; and you may be 
 sure she had a kind welcome from her young 
 friends. 
 
 " I was just telling Daphne about you," 
 she said, looking round at the old colored 
 woman who followed her, " and there you 
 came. Was it not funny ? " 
 
 The other children also thought it a rather
 
 Schoolmates. 101 
 
 remarkable circumstance, but a very pleasant 
 one ; and nurse now saying that baby had 
 walked far enough, took her up in her arms, 
 and Belle took her place between the two little 
 girls ; old Daphne, delighted to see a smile on 
 the sad face of her young charge, coming on 
 with the other nurses. 
 
 Belle was soon told of mamma's invitation, 
 and readily promised to ask her papa's per- 
 mission to go home with Maggie and Bessio 
 on Wednesday after school. 
 " Where do you live ? " asked Bessie. 
 " Over there in that hotel," answered Belle, 
 " Why, do you ? " said Bessie. " My soldiei 
 lives there too. He never told us about you." 
 " Who is your soldier ? " asked Belle. 
 " Colonel Rush : don't you know him? " 
 " No," said Belle : " I never saw him." 
 " Why, how very queer to live in the same 
 house, and not to know him ! " said Bessie ; 
 but Jane, who heard what they said, explained 
 to them that people might live for months or 
 years in that great building, and yet never
 
 io2 Bessie at School. 
 
 know more of one another than if they lived 
 in different cities. The children thought this 
 very strange and unsociable ; but Belle and the 
 colonel were a proof that Jane's words were 
 true. 
 
 " I think we'd better try to bring you ac- 
 quainted with Uncle Horace and Aunt May," 
 said Bessie ; " they'll be very kind to you, I 
 know." 
 
 " Did you never see us when we went to the 
 hotel ? " asked Maggie. " We go there very 
 often." 
 
 " No," said Belle. " But, then, I have not 
 been here very long. I used to live in my 
 home." 
 
 " Where was that ? " asked Bessie. 
 
 " Oh ! in a great deal nicer place than this, 
 far away down at the South," answered Belle. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Maggie, eagerly ; " and what 
 was your mamma's name ? " she would have 
 added, but suddenly thinking that the mention 
 of her mother might bring back the shadow to 
 that sad little face, she checked herself.
 
 Schoolmates. 103 
 
 She need not have feared. Her tongue 
 once loosened on the subject ol her beloved 
 Southern home, Belle talked away about that 
 and her dear mother in a manner which 
 showed it did her good to speak of them ; 
 while her new friends listened with great 
 interest. 
 
 " What was your mamma's name ? " asked 
 Maggie, at last venturing her interrupted 
 question. 
 
 " Her name was Belle, like mine," said the 
 child. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Bessie, joyfully : " then I think 
 she must have been our mamma's friend." 
 
 " How very nice that would be ! " said 
 Maggie. " Belle, if your mamma and our 
 mamma used to be friends, won't you be our 
 inseparable ? " 
 
 " No," said Belle : " I don't think I'd like to 
 be that kind of a thing." 
 
 " Do you know what it is ? " asked Maggie, 
 rather taken aback at this plump refusal to 
 her friendly invitation.
 
 Bessie at School. 
 
 " No," said Belle ; " but it don't sound very 
 nice." 
 
 " Oh. I think it sounds so nice ! " said 
 Maggie. " It means to be very, very great 
 friends, and to be very fond of each other, and 
 tell each other all our secrets." 
 
 " I'd just as lief be, if it means that," said 
 Belle. " I think you and Bessie are very 
 good, and I am going to love you a great deal. 
 But I don't have any secrets. Can you tell 
 me yours if I don't have any ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " said Maggie ; " and maybe some 
 of these days you'll have some, and then you 
 can tell us. But Bessie and I always tell our 
 secrets to mamma, 'cause she says it is not 
 right for little girls to have secrets from their 
 mothers." 
 
 So the treaty was made, and things proved 
 as the children had hoped they would : for it 
 was made certain that Belle's mamma had 
 been Mrs. Bradford's friend of bygone days ; 
 and her papa being only too thankful for the 
 interest and sympathy the lady showed for
 
 Schoolmates. 105 
 
 his lonely little child, and that Belle should 
 have as companions and playmates our well- 
 behaved and ladylike Maggie ind Bessie, the 
 three children became verj nearly what 
 Maggie had desired,
 
 \r. 
 
 THE PRIZES. 
 
 jAGGIE and Bessie had been going to 
 school about a week, when one morn- 
 ing Miss Ashton said she wished all 
 her little scholars, except Bessie, Belle, and 
 Carrie Ransom, to write a short composition 
 for her. This was received with some very 
 long faces, and a good many ohs ! and ahs ! of 
 which Miss Ashton took no nn'i^n. Maggie 
 and Gracie were the only two \\lio seemed 
 to be pleased with the prospect. Maggie, 
 as we know, had been accustomed to com- 
 posing a little. Her " History of the 
 Complete Family " had been of great use to 
 her in this, as well as her habit of writing 
 letters to her friends whenever she found an 
 opportunity. So she looked upon Miss 
 Alton's order more as a pleasant pastime
 
 The Prizes. 107 
 
 than as a task ; and she and Gracie Howard, 
 who was also a good writer and fond of com- 
 position, seized upon their slates and pencils 
 tvith great satisfaction. 
 
 Miss Ashton said each child might lake as a 
 subject the history of yesterday, and tell 
 what she had done or what happened to her ; 
 that she would give them half an hour, and 
 at the end of that time they must all hand her 
 something, even if it were only a few lines ; 
 but she trusted each little girl to do her best. 
 
 " Miss Ashton," said Bessie, " could not I 
 make a little composition too ? I can't write, 
 but I can print it." 
 
 " No, dear," answered Miss Ashton, " you 
 have had enough study for to-day." 
 
 " But composition is not study," said Bessie, 
 fretfully ; " and I want to do it, if Maggie does. 
 I think I might ; " and Bessie's lips looked 
 rather pouty. 
 
 " Bessie," said her teacher, " what was the 
 bargain you and I made with your mamma ? " 
 
 The child's face cleared instantly, and, in
 
 io8 Bessie at School. 
 
 her own demure little way, she said, " Oh, I 
 did forget, Miss Ashton ! Thank you, for put- 
 ting me in mind. I'm 'fraid you're disap- 
 pointed in me to do a thing like that." 
 
 " No," said Miss Ashton, smiling : " I do 
 not expect any of my little scholars to be per- 
 fect; and I am satisfied, if when they feel 
 wrong, and are told of it, they try at once to 
 correct the naughty feeling. But now we four 
 must keep quiet, and not disturb the others 
 while they are writing. Bring your slatea 
 here, and we will have a drawing-lesson." 
 
 The three little girls soon gathered about 
 her, and, lifting Bessie upon her lap, she made 
 Belle and Carrie stand on either side, and told 
 them they were all to try who could draw the 
 best cow. She would try herself. 
 
 In a few moments, the three children had 
 finished ; Miss Ashton had done first, and the 
 four slates were compared. There could be 
 no doubt that Miss Ashton's cow was decidedly 
 the best. That they had expected, but each 
 child had hoped her own might be the next
 
 The Prizes. 
 
 109 
 
 best. Carrie was not disappointed, her cow 
 was pretty fair ; but those drawn by Belle and 
 Bessie were very extraordinary looking ani- 
 mals ; Bessie's, especially. In fact, it looked 
 like nothing so little as a cow, and might rath- 
 er have been taken for a table with four crooked 
 legs going down, and three still more crooked 
 sprawling in the air. The first four were sup- 
 posed to be the legs of the creature ; the last 
 three, her horns and tail. 
 
 "Oh, what a cow ! " said Carrie : " she 
 hasn't even a head." 
 
 Bessie hastily drew a round for a head, 
 which did not improve the cow, but made her 
 look funnier than ever; and Carrie saying, 
 " What a looking thing ! " went off into a fit 
 of laughter. 
 
 Bessie flushed up angrily, stretched out her 
 hand towards Carrie's slate, and in another 
 moment the drawing would have been wiped 
 from it, when, before Miss Ashton could speak, 
 she drew the hand back, and said in a gentle 
 but grieved voice, " I did it as good as I knew 
 how."
 
 no Bessie at School. 
 
 " Yes," said Belle, firing up in defence of 
 her " inseparable," and casting a scornful 
 glance at Carrie's slate ; " and her cow is a 
 great deal prettier than yours, Carrie, and she 
 is a great deal better than you." 
 
 " No," said Bessie, laying her head with a 
 penitent little sigh against Miss Ashton's 
 shoulder, " hers is the best, Belle : mine is not 
 half so good." 
 
 " But you say you did the best you could," 
 said Miss Ash ton, tenderly smoothing down 
 the curls on the dear little head. 
 
 " Yes, I truly did," said Bessie. 
 
 " And, Carrie, did you do your best 
 too?" 
 
 " Yes," said Carrie. 
 
 " And Belle ? " said Miss Ashton. 
 
 " Yes," answered Belle. 
 
 " So did I," said their teacher ; " and none 
 of us can do more." 
 
 " I think, maybe, I could make a little bet- 
 ter one if I was to try hard," said Belle. 
 
 " Then you may all try again ; and since yon
 
 The Prizes. Ill 
 
 agree that my cow is the best, you can take 
 her for a pattern." 
 
 So they all tried to make one like Miss Ash 
 ton's. Carrie's was much like her first attempt, 
 neither better nor worse ; but in Bessie's 
 and Belle's, a great improvement was to 
 be seen. 
 
 Before the half hour was up, Maggie and 
 Gracie had finished their compositions, and 
 laid down their slates, but some of the chil- 
 dren were still poring over theirs, having very 
 little written. At last, Miss Ashton said the 
 time was up, and sent Belle to collect the 
 slates, saying she should read the composi- 
 tions aloud. 
 
 Some were very well done ; Maggie's and 
 Grade's the two best ; but with some it was 
 plainly to be seen that the young writers had 
 taken little or no pains. One little girl had 
 written only, 
 
 " I got up, and I staid up till I went to bed., 
 That is all I know." At which, when it was 
 read out, the other children laughed ; but the
 
 112 Bessie at School* 
 
 little girl herself felt rather ashamed, and 
 wished she had tried to do better. 
 
 But Miss Ashton found no fault, laying each 
 slate aside without remark, and when she was 
 through, and it was nearly twelve o'clock, said 
 that her uncle wished to say a few words to 
 all the school. Then the folding-doors were 
 opened, and presently a white-haired old gen- 
 tleman walked in, and stood at Mrs. Ashton's 
 table. 
 
 He was as pleasant-looking an old gentle- 
 man as it would be easy to find, with a merry 
 twinkle in his eye, and a kind smile on his 
 lips ; and when he spoke, it was in a hearty, 
 cheery voice that it did one good to hear. 
 
 " My dear children," he began, " I do not 
 mean to keep you long, for school-hours are 
 about over, and I suppose you would rather be 
 at your play than listening to an old man. 
 God has not given me any children of my own, 
 but I love all the young folks, and like to make 
 them happy, and to help them along in any 
 way I can. Now I have a plan to propose to
 
 The Prizes. 113 
 
 you, and it is this. I will give five prizes on 
 the first of next May. Two will be for com- 
 position, one for each class, to be given to the 
 young lady, or little girl, who shall produce the 
 best composition, the subject to be chosen by 
 herself. The next two will be for general good 
 standing in the classes, perfect lessons, and 
 punctual attendance, &c. All these, of course, 
 will be bestowed according to the judgment of 
 your teachers, and the number of your good 
 marks. But the fifth and last prize, and the 
 one which I consider the most important, will 
 be given, according to the choice of the schol- 
 ars of both classes, to her who has proved 
 herself the most obedient, truthful, and un- 
 selfish among you ; in short, to her who shows 
 in her life and conduct that she remembers 
 and practises the two great commandments 
 which our Saviour gave us ; viz., ' Thou 
 shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, 
 and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength ; 
 and the second is like unto it, Thou shalt 
 lore thy neighbor as thyself.' You shalJ 
 8
 
 H4 Bessie at School. 
 
 yourselves say to whom this is due, who has 
 best proved that she has the fear of God and 
 the love of her neighbor in her heart, and be- 
 fore her eyes. And since I believe that such 
 a child will rejoice in the power of doing good 
 to others, I will tell you what I mean to offer 
 as a reward. 
 
 " In a .certain hospital at a short distance 
 from this city, where little deformed children 
 and cripples are nursed and cared for, and 
 often cured, I own a bed. That is, I pay for 
 its use, and it is occupied by any needy child 
 whom I may choose to send there. At pres- 
 ent, it is taken up by a little girl who 
 has been in the hospital for two years, and 
 who was dreadfully lame when she went 
 there. Now she is so nearly cured that she 
 walks without her crutches, and the doctors 
 say that by the spring she will be quito 
 well. 
 
 " When she goes away, her place will be 
 ready for some other poor child who may 
 need such care as she has had ; and to the
 
 The Prizes. 115 
 
 girl whom the voice of her schoolmates say 
 has earned the right to it, shall be given the 
 choice of its next occupant. Do you under- 
 stand me, little ones ? This bed, with all the 
 comforts and kind care which belong to it, 
 shall be given to any crippled child named by 
 the girl who shall first be chosen by the whole 
 school as the most deserving of the pleasure. 
 Perhaps some among you may not know any 
 one, at present, who stands in need of it ; but 
 if you will make inquiries among your friends, 
 I think you cannot fail to find some poor 
 child to whom it will be a great blessing. 
 And now, I will keep you no longer, but say 
 good-by to you, hoping to meet you all here 
 in the spring, and that you will all do so well 
 that we shall have a great deal of trouble in 
 deciding who are to receive the prizes." 
 
 To describe the buzz of tongues, the ex- 
 clamations, wonderings, and questionings thai 
 followed as soon as Mr. Ashton had gone. 
 would be quite impossible. It was twelve 
 o'clock, and two or three nurses were waiting
 
 n6 Bessie at School. 
 
 in the cloak-room for their little charges ; but 
 they found it hard work to coax them away. 
 Miss Ashton had gone downstairs with her 
 uncle and mother, kindly giving Maggie a few 
 minutes to talk off her excitement before she 
 called her to her music-lesson, which she 
 knew would meet with small attention just at 
 present. 
 
 " Oh ! I hope, I hope, I do hope I shall 
 gain a prize," said Maggie, clapping her hands, 
 jumping about, and uttering each succeeding 
 " hope " with more and more energy. " I 
 must have one. Oh, I must ! " 
 
 " Which one do you mean to try for, 
 Maggie ? " asked Nellie Ransom. 
 
 " I suppose I ought to wish most for the 
 one for the lame child," said Maggie, pausing 
 in her antics and looking thoughtful ; " but 
 I'm afraid I don't, so that's a sure sign I 
 should not deserve to have it. No, I'd never 
 get it ; for I know I should not be the best 
 child in the school. But I think maybe I 
 could earn one of the others, and I will try
 
 The Prizes. 117 
 
 for both ; but most of all I'd rather have the 
 one for composition. Tf I knew any one who 
 would like to go to the hospital, I'd try for 
 that; but I don't." 
 
 " Maggie ! " said Bessie, " don't you re- 
 member Jemmy Bent ? " 
 
 " Why, to be sure," said Maggie. " Well, 
 I'm just glad enough Jemmy did not hear me 
 say that. He would think me too unkind to 
 go and forget him. But, any way, I know I'd 
 never earn that prize. I shall just do every 
 thing in the world to get the composition 
 one." 
 
 " So shall I," said Gracie ; " and I hope I'll 
 be the one." 
 
 "I'm going to try too," said Dora John- 
 son ; " but only one of us can have it. So all 
 the rest will have to be disappointed." 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " said Maggie, " I didn't think 
 about that. I'll be very sorry to have you al? 
 disappointed." 
 
 " You seem to be very sure you'll get it,* 
 said Fanny Leroy, rather snappishly.
 
 ri8 Bessie at School. 
 
 Maggie colored. 
 
 "Well, I did feel 'most sure," she said 
 " I only thought about trying very hard to 
 earn it, and I forgot all the rest wanted it too, 
 and were going to try." 
 
 " But I think you'll be the one to have it, 
 Maggie," said Bessie. 
 
 u Well, little mouse," said Kate Maynard, 
 dancing in, catching up Bessie, and carrying 
 her off to the other room, where she seated 
 the child on her desk, and took a chair in 
 front of her. " Well, little mouse, and what 
 makes you so sure Maggie will get the compo 
 sition prize for the other room ? " 
 
 " She wants it so very much, and is going 
 to try so hard," said Bessie. 
 
 " But, as Maggie just said herself, all tne 
 others want it too, and mean to try." 
 
 " Yes," said Bessie, smiling back into the 
 merry black eyes ; " but my Maggie is very 
 smart. She has a great deal of make up in 
 her, and can tell such beautiful stories all out 
 of her own head, and she can write them too.'
 
 The Prizes. 
 
 119 
 
 " Come here, Maggie," said Kate, as the 
 child, whose classmates were leaving, peeped 
 around the door for Bessie. " Come here : I 
 want to have a little talk with you about these 
 prizes." 
 
 Maggie came slowly forward. 
 
 " Is that the way you mean to come when 
 you are called up to get the composition 
 prize ? " said Kate. " Hurry up, tortoise, or 
 you won't be here before recess is over." 
 
 At this, Maggie turned about as if she 
 would have run away ; but two of the larger 
 girls caught her, and drew her over to Kate's 
 desk. 
 
 " What are you afraid of, dear ? " asked 
 Kate, as Julia Grafton lifted the blushing 
 child to her knee, and held her fast. " What 
 is the reason you don't like me ? " 
 
 Maggie made no answer, except by wriggling 
 her head and shoulders, and putting up both 
 arms, so as to cover her face as much as 
 possible. 
 
 "Miss Kate," said Bessie, gravely, "you
 
 I2O Bessie at School. 
 
 could not 'spect Maggie to be very fond of 
 you." 
 
 "Why not?" asked the laughing Kate. 
 " You are very fond of me, are you not ? " 
 
 "Not much," said Bessie. "But I'd be 
 fond of you, if you did not tease my Maggie. 
 I shouldn't think you'd like to be such a 
 trouble to any one, Miss Kate." 
 
 " I should like to know how I am a trouble 
 to her," said Kate. 
 
 " You look at her." 
 
 " Look at her ! " exclaimed Kate ; " and is 
 Maggie not to be looked at ? Why, I look at 
 you too, mousie; but you do not seem to 
 mind it." 
 
 " You don't look at me that way," said 
 Bessie, feeling quite sure that Kate under- 
 stood what she meant. " When the doors 
 are open, you look at Maggie in a way to tease 
 her, and make her miss her lessons. The 
 other day you made her miss three times." 
 
 " Pshaw ! that's nonsense," said Kate, half- 
 vexed, half-amused.
 
 The Prizes. 1 21 
 
 " You did," said Maggie, taking down her 
 arms, the sense of her wrongs overcoming 
 her bashfulness. " That was a very hard 
 lesson, but I knew it quite well, but I could 
 not say it when you stared at me, and shook 
 your head at me, and laughed at me ; and I 
 missed and missed, so I had to go down foot, 
 and I was next to head before. And it wasn't 
 my fault, and it's too bad, now ! " and the 
 tears welled up to poor Maggie's eyes. 
 
 " So it was, Maggie," said Miss Maynard ; 
 " and I am truly sorry. I did not think, but 
 I promise not to do so any more. Will you 
 kiss, and be friends?" 
 
 Forgiving little Maggie was quite willing, 
 and the treaty was sealed with a kiss ; the 
 child feeling more relieved than Kate would 
 have thought possible, at the thought that 
 those mischievous eyes would iiot work her 
 any more trouble. 
 
 "Maggie, come to your music, dear," said 
 Miss Ashton's voice at the door. 
 
 " There, now! Miss Ashtou will see she has
 
 r22 Bessie at School. 
 
 l~>en crying, and I shall get into trouble," said 
 Kate. 
 
 " Maggie will not say any thing about it, if 
 she can help it," said Bessie. " She never tells 
 talcs. Mamma has brought us up not to." 
 
 " What a wise mamma ! " said Julia, laugh 
 ing. " But did not Maggie tell Miss Ashton 
 the day Kate made her miss." 
 
 " No," said Bessie : " she did not tell any 
 one but mamma. We have to tell her all our 
 troubles, you know." 
 
 " But about these prizes, Bessie," said Kate. 
 " Since you < have to be rather lazy,' I suppose 
 you do not hope to gain any." 
 
 " I know mamma would not like me to 
 study so much as to gain the composition or 
 perfect-lesson prize," said Bessie, " so I did 
 not think much about those, 'cept for Maggie 
 but " 
 
 " But what ? " said Julia, as the child hesi- 
 tated. " Have you a hope of winning the 
 other from the whole school, by being the best 
 girl in it?"
 
 The Prizes. 123 
 
 " Not such a very hope" said Bessie ; " but 
 oh ! I do wish so very, very much that Maggie 
 or I could have it. I'd just as lief she'd have 
 it, 'cause we'd both do the same with it." 
 
 " Then you know some child to whom you 
 wish to give the bed in the hospital ? " asked 
 Kate. 
 
 " Yes," said Bessie ; " and he deserves it 
 very much. He is such a good boy, Miss 
 Kate. If he had to earn it for himself, I 
 know he'd get it. He is a great deal better 
 than any one in this school." 
 
 " There's a compliment for us," said Fanny 
 Berry. 
 
 " And he is a cripple, is he ? " said Kate. 
 
 " Yes'm ; shall I tell you about him ? " 
 
 " Of course," answered Kate. 
 
 " His name is Jemmy Bent," said Bessie , 
 " and, a good while ago, he fell off a stone wall, 
 and hurt his back very much, so he had to lie 
 in bed all the time. He and his mother and 
 his sister Mary live in a little red house by 
 the creek that is near Riverside, where Grand-
 
 124 Bessie at School. 
 
 papa Duncan lives ; and grandpapa and Aunt 
 Helen are very good to him ; and his mother 
 wanted to buy a wheel-chair, so that he could 
 be out in the nice air and sun ; but she was 
 too poor, and grandpapa let Maggie and me 
 earn the chair for him. And since he had the 
 chair, he has been better and stronger; and 
 grandpapa thought if he could go where he 
 would have very good care, perhaps he might 
 be made quite well. So he took a doctor, who 
 knew a great deal, to see Jemmy ; and the 
 doctor said he never would be very well, but 
 he thought he could be cured so much that he 
 could go about on crutches. But he said he 
 must have care all the time, and be where 
 he could be 'tended to every day. But he said 
 he ought not to be brought to the city, 'cause 
 he was used to living in the country, and it 
 was better for him. So grandpapa wanted to 
 put him into a country hospital, where they 
 take lame children, maybe it was the very one 
 the prize gentleman told us about ; but it was 
 so full they had no room for Jemmy. So he
 
 The Prizes. 125 
 
 has to wait, and Maggie and I were very 
 sorry about it. But Jemmy did not know 
 what grandpapa tried to do, so he was not 
 disappointed. It would be a very happy thing 
 for Jemmy if he could ever be so well as to 
 walk on crutches, for now he has to be wheeled 
 about in his chair, and cannot take one step 
 on his feet." 
 
 " And he is such a very good boy, is he ?" 
 said Kate, when Bessie, having talked herself 
 out of breath, came to a pause. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " said the child : " you could not 
 find an excellenter boy anywhere, I'm sure. 
 He's so patient, and so happy ; and he never 
 frets or is cross, though he has a great deal of 
 pain to bear. And if he's tired of being in 
 one place, he cannot move himself, but has to 
 wait till some one comes to roll his chair. 
 Sometimes he and his mother and sister used 
 to be hungry too, and did not have enough 
 bread to eat ; and do you b'lieve, not a bit of 
 butter on it ! But Aunt Helen found that out,
 
 126 Bessie at School. 
 
 and she takes care of them now, and finda 
 work for Mrs. Bent and Mary, so they need 
 never be hungry any more, or cold either. 
 And mamma helps them too ; so they're rather 
 com'fable now." 
 
 " Your Jemmy seems to have found good 
 friends," said Kate. " And so you and Mag- 
 gie earned his easy-chair for him; and now 
 you want to earn this hospital-bed for him, do 
 you?" 
 
 " Oh, so much ! " The tone said as much 
 as the words, as did the glowing cheeks and 
 wistful eyes. There could be no doubt that 
 the wish was heartfelt ; and Kate, taking the 
 earnest little face between her hands, kissed 
 it warmly, and said, 
 
 "You're a darling, and Maggie's another. 
 I think your mother has a pair of you." 
 
 " Yes," said Bessie, innocently ; " and there 
 are two more pair of us, Harry and Fred, and 
 Frankie and baby." 
 
 The girls laughed again ; and Kate, catching
 
 The Prizes. 127 
 
 the child up in her arms, began to dance with 
 her about the room, which was the signal for a 
 general frolic that lasted till Jane came to take 
 the children home.
 
 VI. 
 
 BELLE. 
 
 j|ES, indeed, mamma ! I must, I must, 
 have that prize for composition," 
 said Maggie, after she and Bessie 
 had told their mother of all the events of the 
 morning. 
 
 " And do all the others think they must 
 have it too, MaggLi 
 
 " Well, yes, mamma i believe they do ; at 
 least most of them want it very much, and 
 Gracie and Fanny Leroy are very anxious for 
 it. We were talking a little about it, before I 
 went to my music-lesson ; and when Dora put 
 us in mind that all but one would have to be 
 disappointed, somehow I did not feel so very 
 happy about it. But I do not feel as if I could 
 give up trying for it. Do you think it is self- 
 ish in me, mamma ? "
 
 Belle, 
 
 " No, love, not at all. So long as you are 
 willing that the others should have an equal 
 chance with yourself, and take no unfair advan- 
 tage of them ; and that, I am sure, my Maggie 
 would not do." 
 
 "No, indeed, mamma : I hope I would never 
 be so mean. Then you think it is quite right 
 for me to try for the prize ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear. God has given to each one of 
 as certain powers or talents which He means 
 us to use for His service and our own improve- 
 ment. Only let us be sure ' whatsoever we do, 
 to do it to the glory of God/ and not simply 
 to gain some praise or some fancied good for 
 ourselves. For although we may succeed even 
 with such a motive, yet it will not bring a 
 blessing. Do your very best, not with the 
 sole purpose of being first, or of carrying away 
 the prize from others, but that you may please 
 your Father in Heaven, and make the most of 
 the opportunities He has given you. Then 
 you will be sure of the best of rewards, that of 
 a good conscience, and the smile of God ; arid 
 
 9
 
 130 Bessie at School. 
 
 if the earthly reward is won too, well and 
 good, but that is not the chief thing." 
 
 " But I'm afraid I did think it was the chief 
 thing," said Maggie, gravely shaking her head ; 
 " and I'm afraid the reason I would like the 
 prize so much, was because I wanted every 
 one to say I made the best composition. 1 
 don't think I thought a bit about glorifying 
 God. Mamma, I hope you do not think I had 
 better not try for the prize." 
 
 " Not at all, dear," said her mother. " 1 
 should be very sorry if you did not try to gain 
 it. Do your very best, only do it with love to 
 God and your neighbor ; not feeling jealous or 
 envious if another does better, or too much 
 puffed up if you should be the one to receive 
 the prize." 
 
 " Well, I will try not to be too very anxious 
 about it, mamma," said Maggie. 
 
 But Maggie was very anxious about this 
 prize ; so anxious, so bent upon gaining it, 
 that her mother was almost sorry it had been 
 offered by Miss Ashton's uncle. Morning,
 
 Belle. 131 
 
 noon, and night, it seemed to be upon her 
 mind : every thing that pleased or interested 
 her was talked over as " a subject ; " and Mrs. 
 Bradford was not a little amused one day to 
 find in Maggie's room the following : 
 
 "LIST OF PRIZE SUBJECTS. 
 
 ** Angels ; 
 Elephants ; 
 Doing unto Others ; 
 Potry; 
 
 Mind your own Business ; 
 A Fabel ; 
 Sunset ; 
 Dolls ; 
 Churches ; 
 Vegitables ; 
 School ; 
 A Letter ; 
 A Story; 
 Christmas ; 
 What can't be cured, must be endured." 
 
 It had been arranged, that the prize papers 
 were not to be begun before the 1st of April, 
 but that meanwhile the children were to do all
 
 132 Bessie at School. 
 
 they could to improve themselves, not only in 
 composing, but also in writing and spelling. 
 Miss Ashton gave them a composition to write 
 during school-hours, one day in each week ; 
 but this did not satisfy Maggie, and at home 
 she was constantly scribbling, and reading 
 aloud her productions to the admiring Bessie, 
 till her mamma, who thought she was too much 
 f aken up with it, and that she scarcely gave 
 herself time enough for play in her excitement 
 and anxiety, forbade her to write more than 
 half an hour each day, whether in school or 
 at home ; and this in spite of Maggie's plea 
 that she was " only exercising her ideas." 
 
 So the days and weeks passed by, bringing 
 nearer the Christmas holidays, when there 
 would be no school for a fortnight ; and about 
 this time a very pleasant thing happened to 
 our two little girls, and their new friend Belle. 
 
 As you were told before, the three children 
 had become very intimate, Belle being often 
 invited to pass the day with Maggie and Bes- 
 sie ; and she dearly loved to go. Colonel and
 
 Belle. 133 
 
 Mrs. Rush, with whom the children had 
 " brought her acquainted," took a great inter- 
 est in her, and sometimes, when Maggie and 
 Bessie came to see them, would send over to 
 Mr. Powers' rooms for Belle to come and join 
 her young playmates. 
 
 She was a sweet-tempered and truthful child ; 
 but she was not as obedient as Mrs. Bradford's 
 little girls, and was in some things rather 
 spoiled. She would argue and fret when told 
 to do a thing which did not suit her, and some- 
 times she would deliberately disobey. Her 
 mother had been ill for a long time before her 
 death, and not able to do much for her child ; 
 and her father, perhaps, humored her more 
 than was good for her, so that Belle had not 
 had much training, and generally thought her 
 own way was quite as wise and safe as that of 
 older people. Mr. Powers himself became 
 fond of dropping in at the Bradfords' pleas- 
 ant home where he always found a warm 
 welcome. 
 
 One day, shortly before Christmas, Belle
 
 134 Bessie at School. 
 
 went home from school with Maggie and Bes- 
 sie, and spent the rest of the day with them, 
 and in the evening her father came to take her 
 home. He sat down in the library with Mr. 
 and Mrs. Bradford, while the three little girls 
 in the other room were talking over some very 
 important holiday arrangements. 
 
 " I fear my poor pet will not wear as bright 
 a face to-morrow as she does to-day," said Mr. 
 Powers, as he looked through the open doors 
 at the happy little ones. 
 
 " Why ? " asked Mrs. Bradford : " there is 
 no trouble in store for her, I hope." 
 
 Mr. Powers shook his head sadly. 
 
 " Yes," he said : " I shall have to leave her 
 for a while ; and, what is more, so will Daphne, 
 her old nurse. Daphne's son is very ill in 
 Savannah, and the old woman, of course, is 
 most anxious to see him before he dies. Slie 
 is too helpless and ignorant to be allowed to 
 go alone ; and, as I have business in Savannah 
 which must have taken me South in a few 
 weeks, I shall go a little sooner, and see Dajh-"
 
 Belle. 135 
 
 ne safely there. But we must travel da} and 
 uight, if we are to be in time ; and such a 
 journey would be too much for my poor baby. 
 I shall be forced to leave her behind, and it 
 will go near to break her little heart. We 
 must start to-morrow at noon, and I shall have 
 to tell her in the morning." 
 
 " But what do you mean to do with her V " 
 asked Mrs. Bradford. 
 
 " To leave her with Miss Ashton, if she will 
 take charge of her, as I think she will. I shall 
 go and see her this evening after I have taken 
 Belle home. She will be well cared for there, 
 I am sure." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Bradford ; " but I fear she 
 will be very lonely after school-hours are over. 
 There are only Miss Ashton and her mother ; 
 and, though I do not doubt she would receive 
 every kindness, it will be dull for the little 
 thing. Suppose you let her come to us : she 
 will bear your absence better if she .s with 
 our children whom she is fond of." 
 
 Mr. Powers' melancholy face lighted up with
 
 136 Bessie at School. 
 
 pleasure ; but the next moment he shook hia 
 head doubtfully. 
 
 " It would be the very thing for her," he 
 said, " but quite too much to ask from you. 
 You are not strong yet, and it would not be 
 right to give you the charge of another child." 
 
 But Mrs. Bradford would not listen to this, 
 as long as Mr. Powers was satisfied to have 
 his child with her. Belle was not much trou- 
 ble, she said ; and nurse and Jane would readily 
 do for her as for the others. So, after a little 
 more talk it was settled, greatly to the father's 
 satisfaction. Mrs. Bradford said it would be 
 well to tell Belle now, while she had the other 
 children at hand to console her, and make her 
 feel she might enjoy herself even though her 
 father and nurse were away; and the little 
 girls were called in. 
 
 " Belle," said Mrs. Bradford, " how would 
 you like to come and stay with Maggie and 
 Bessie for a while ? " 
 
 " What ! do you mean to stay all night and 
 sleep here ? " said Belle, with wide-open eyes.
 
 Belle. 137 
 
 *'Yes, dear, for several nights, for three 
 or four weeks. Would you not have pleasant 
 times ? " 
 
 " Yes, if papa comes too," said Belle, draw- 
 ing herself from Mrs. Bradford's arm, and 
 springing to her father's knee, where she 
 clung to him, as if she feared she were to be 
 parted from him by force. 
 
 " But papa cannot come too, my precious 
 one," said her father. " I have to go on a 
 journey ; and Mrs. Bradford has kindly said 
 you may stay here with her little girls, till I 
 come back." 
 
 " I shall go on a journey too : yes, I shall, 
 I shall" was Belle's answer. 
 
 " But you cannot, darling," said Mr. 
 Powers ; and then, as cheerfully as he could, 
 he told his little girl why he and Daphne must 
 go away, and what a pleasant arrangement 
 had been made for her during their absence. 
 
 Belle did not make the outcry which Mrs. 
 Bradford had expected, but every time her 
 father paused, repeated, " I shall go a journey 
 too."
 
 138 Bessie at School. 
 
 Poor child ! she was not accustomed to a 
 ready obedience ; and she knew that if she 
 persisted, she could often carry her point with 
 her father ; while he, feeling that this time, at 
 least, he could not yield, feared each moment to 
 hear her break out in cries and sobs when she 
 found she could not have her own way. To 
 all his coaxings and promises, she made the 
 one quiet but determined reply, though each 
 time her voice became more choked. 
 
 But now Bessie came softly behind Mr. 
 Powers, and gently trying to disengage one of 
 the little hands which were tightly clasped 
 about his neck, said in a low tone, 
 
 " You would not make a trouble for your 
 papa, when you say you are ' his little com- 
 fort,' Belle : would you ? " 
 
 " I shall go a journey with him," said Belle, 
 in the same old tone. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said Maggie, coming round to 
 the other side : " you will stay here with us, 
 and have such a lovely, lovely time. We are 
 a very nice family to stay with," she added 
 persuasively.
 
 Belle. 139 
 
 " Belle does not doubt that, I believe," said 
 Mr. Powers, smiling rather sadly ; " but she 
 and I have no one but one another to pet, 
 and it comes pretty hard to part, even for 
 a time." 
 
 " But we are going to try and make her 
 rery, very happy, even ?f you are away, sir," 
 answered Bessie. " And, Belle, next week 
 Christmas will be here, and if you go on a 
 journey, you will not see our tree ; and we have 
 a great many nice things to do in the holi- 
 days." 
 
 " We have some of our presents to buy yet," 
 said Maggie, " and we want you to help us, 
 and we have money to buy you a present 
 too ; and papa and mamma will give you pres- 
 ents if you stay : will you not, mamma ? " 
 
 Mrs. Bradford said, " Certainly ; " but all 
 these promises only drew forth the same an- 
 swer. 
 
 "And we are all to go to Riverside in 
 grandmamma's sleigh, and spend the day 
 there," said Bessie ; " and you will go too,
 
 140 Bessie at School. 
 
 and if there is not enough of room, I will let 
 you have my place." 
 
 " Why, how much you will have to tell me 
 of when I come back," said Mr. Powers, cheer- 
 fully. " You must be sure and remember all 
 these pleasant things, so that I may hear 
 about them." 
 
 " I shall go a " began Belle ; but before 
 she had time to finish the old sentence, Mag- 
 gie broke in with, 
 
 " Oh ! she could write to you about them, 
 Mr. Powers. She can make up a letter every 
 day, and I will write it for her, and she can 
 put it in the lamp-post herself. Will not that 
 be nice, Belle ? " 
 
 " I couldn't make up so much," said Belle. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! you could do enough," said 
 Maggie. " You could tell your father you 
 was alive, any way, and he'll be glad to know 
 that. Yes, we'll send him a letter every 
 day." 
 
 This proved to be a most happy idea, and 
 was the first thing which brought any con
 
 Belle. 141 
 
 eolation to poor little Belle ; and her father, 
 seeing that she was at last interested, im- 
 proved it by saying, 
 
 " Dear ! dear ! I shall have to leave behind 
 me quite a fortune in postage-stamps to pay 
 for so many letters. Let me see if I have 
 enough." 
 
 And he pulled out his pocket-book, and, 
 taking from it a quantity of stamps, began to 
 count them over ; while Belle, after submit- 
 ting to let Bessie wipe the tears from her eyes, 
 watched him with eager interest, as did the 
 two other little girls. 
 
 " There is one for the day after to-morrow," 
 said Mr. Powers. " You will not think it 
 worth while to write to-morrow, I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I think they had better begin at 
 once," said Mrs. Bradford, who saw that this 
 writing of letters to her papa was likely to 
 divert Belle's mind from her grief at parting 
 with him. 
 
 " Very well," replied -Mr. Powers ; and he
 
 142 Bessie At School. 
 
 counted out a postaga-stamp for each day as 
 far as his stock would go. " Here are only 
 enough for two weeks. We shall have to 
 stop and buy some as we go home, Belle." 
 
 " And here, Belle," said Bessie, " you may 
 have this box of mine to keep them in. You 
 may have it for your very own to keep all 
 your life." 
 
 " And you will write her letters for her : 
 will you, Maggie ? " asked Mr. Powers. 
 
 " Yes, sir. Mamma lets me have half an 
 hour for writing every day, and I will give it 
 to Belle." 
 
 Mrs. Bradford vf as glad to hear Maggie say 
 this. She had feared that the little girl was 
 too eager and anxious for the composition 
 prize ; but this proved that the desire for it 
 had not made her selfish, and that she was 
 willing to lessen her chances for it for the 
 sake of being a help and comfort to her moth- 
 erless little friend. She did not tell Maggio 
 that she might still " exercise her ideas " 
 during the allowed half-hour, and take some
 
 Belle. 143 
 
 other time for writing Belle's letters. Since 
 the dear child was willing to make the sacrifice, 
 she thought it just as well to let her do so. 
 
 So Belle was pacified, and made to believe 
 that she might, after all, be able to bear the 
 separation from her father ; and this letter 
 writing did indeed prove to be a great source 
 of comfort and amusement to her. 
 
 Mr. Powers did not send her to school the 
 next morning, but kept her with him till the 
 last moment, taking her himself to Mrs. 
 Bradford's house, and leaving her in the kind 
 lady's care. When Maggie and Bessie came 
 home, they found her sitting on the sofa 
 beside their mother, her head in her lap, and 
 looking the very picture of woe. She bright 
 ened considerably, however, when she saw 
 them, and asked Maggie if she was ready to 
 write her letter for her, saying she was " only 
 going to tell her father that she was going to 
 die of grief." 
 
 Mrs. Bradford made no objection to this, 
 but said that the children must all have their
 
 1 44 Bessie at School. 
 
 dinner before they did any thing else ; and as 
 she expected, by the time Belle had made a 
 good meal, and chatted, as she eat it, with 
 hei happy, merry little companions, she 
 thought better of her intentions of " dying 
 of grief." 
 
 Then the letter was written ; but as it was 
 so short a time, only two hours indeed, since 
 Mr. Powers had gone, there was not much to 
 tell ; and it contained only these words : 
 
 " DEAR, DARLING PAPA, I think I better 
 not die of trouble of your going away, 'cause 
 Maggie says then all the postage-stamps will 
 be wasted. 
 
 " YOUB DEAR LITTLE BELLE." 
 
 The most important part of these letters, 
 according to the thinking of the little ones, 
 was the postage-stamps, and the putting them 
 into the lamp-post boxes ; and these Belle al- 
 ways insisted on doing herself. 
 
 On this day, they all went out to walk to- 
 gether, and when they reached the first box,
 
 Belle. 145 
 
 the children paused to put the letter in. The 
 box was far above their heads, and a gentle- 
 man was there before them, putting letters 
 through the slide. 
 
 " Shall I put in your letter for you, my 
 dear ? " said he to Belle, who held the precious 
 message to papa fast in her hand, while she 
 waited her turn. 
 
 " No, sir," said Belle. " I want to send my 
 own letter to papa my own self. He won't like 
 it so much if somebody else sends it." 
 
 " Oh, that is it ! " said the stranger ; " but 
 you can scarcely reach up here. Shall I lift 
 you ? " 
 
 Belle agreed, and the gentleman lifted her, 
 and let her slip the letter into the box herself, 
 telling her he was sure her papa would be 
 much pleased with it ; and Belle went on her 
 way well satisfied. 
 
 " Do you think dear papa has my letter 
 yet ? " she said to Bessie, when, an hour later, 
 they returned home. 
 
 " Oh, yes, long ago ! " answered Bessie. 
 10
 
 146 Bessie at School. 
 
 " Why, we took a long walk, Belle : and it's 
 a great while since you sent it." 
 
 " Maybe he's sitting in the cars, reading it," 
 said Belle ; to which Bessie replied, " Course 
 he is," and since neither of them knew it, 
 neither of them was disturbed by the fact 
 that it would take three or four days for the 
 letter to reach Mr. Powers ; and Belle was 
 made quite happy when she received the next 
 morning a little note from her papa, written 
 in the cars and posted at the first stopping- 
 place on his way. 
 
 She and Bessie made another droll mistake 
 one day. Maggie had gone out with her Aunt 
 Annie, and so was out of the way when it was 
 time for the others to take their walk ; and lo ! 
 the daily letter was not written, forgotten for the 
 first time! Bessie and Belle were both in a 
 great way about it. Mamma, too, having gone 
 to ride, there was no help to be had from her. 
 
 " Do it yourself, can't you ? " said Bessie : 
 " you can print a little." 
 
 " Yes," said Belle, seizing on a sheet o* pa-
 
 Belle. 147 
 
 per. " But what shall I say ? I haven't much 
 to tell to-day." 
 
 " And we haven't time for much thoughts 
 about it," said Bessie. " Nurse has baby most 
 ready, and she don't like her to be kept wait- 
 ing. You might tell him you are alive. Mag- 
 gie said he would like to know that." 
 
 " Yes," said Belle, and she began to write ; 
 but a new difficulty arose. 
 
 " How do you spell ' alive' ? " she asked. 
 
 Bessie thought a moment. 
 
 " I don't know," she said slowly. " Oh, 
 yes ! life is in one of the Bible-texts, and it's 
 1-i-f-e. I guess that's the way you spell ' alive,' 
 only to put a a in front of it." 
 
 Belle took it all in good faith, and printed 
 out, 
 
 " DEAR PAPA, I am alife. 
 
 " So Good-by." 
 
 Then it was put into the envelope. 
 " But I don't know how to put papa's name," 
 said Belle.
 
 i^j.8 Bessie at School. 
 
 Bessie had not thought of this trouble, 
 " Shall we ask nurse or Jane ? " she said. 
 
 "No," said Belle. "I don't believe they 
 tnow how to write papa's name, or where he 
 nas gone to." 
 
 " But won't the postage-stamp make it go 
 all safe ? " asked Bessie. 
 
 " Oh, to be sure ! " said Belle, and the post- 
 age-stamp was put on ; and nurse and Jane 
 appearing at that moment with the other chil- 
 dren, they set out, Belle in great glee at hav- 
 ing contrived to " do " her letter all by herself, 
 and reached the familiar lamp-post, where she 
 was lifted up by Jane, and dropped it in, nei- 
 ther of the nurses observing that it had no 
 address ; and both the little girls firmly be- 
 lieving it would go in the proper direction with 
 that important postage-stamp on it. 
 
 After all, Belle continued to be very happy 
 while her father was away. She would have 
 been very ungrateful if she had not been both 
 happy and good when so much was done to 
 please her. The Christmas holidays came and
 
 Belle* 149 
 
 passed, and she shared in all the enjoyments 
 which were provided for Maggie and Bessie, 
 and was treated quite as if she were one of the 
 family ; while Mrs. Bradford could not help 
 thinking that she had improved a little, being 
 more obedient and far less wilful. The exam- 
 ple of such a prompt obedience as was shown 
 by the other children had done her good. 
 
 And now the holidays were over, and they 
 were back at school once more, while the time 
 for Mr. Powers' return was drawing near.
 
 m 
 
 THE HURT FOOT. 
 
 jjH, oh ! " said Belle. 
 
 She did not say it as if she were 
 pleased ; on the contrary, the tone 
 had in it some pain and a good deal of fear. 
 And that was not to be wondered at ; for Belle 
 was half-way up a stone-fence, that fence 
 which divided Mrs. Ashton's garden from the 
 ball-ground where Mr. Peters' boys played ; and 
 a large stone had slipped and hurt her foot, and 
 the wall felt shaky and very much as if it 
 might give still more. 
 
 There she stood, Ul crouched together, 
 clinging to the topmost stones with her small 
 hands, and afraid to go up or down lest the 
 whole fence should fall on her. 
 
 " Oh, o-o-o-oh ! " said she again, but not
 
 The Hurt Foot. 151 
 
 loud ; for there were boys at play jusl beyond 
 the wall, and if they heard her, Harry and 
 Fred Bradford would come and lift her down 
 and take her to the house, and Miss Ashton 
 and Mrs. Bradford would know how disobe- 
 dient she had been. 
 
 For Belle remembered quite well that she 
 and Bessie had been forbidden to go near this 
 fence, and watch the boys at their play ; for 
 both ladies feared that the balls might come 
 over the wall and strike the little girls 
 and hurt them. And more than this, Mrs. 
 Bradford had told her she must not go out 
 of doors with those thin shoes on. So when 
 Belle had made up her mind to disobey 
 her kind friends, and to go near the ball- 
 ground in spite of the orders she had received, 
 she had not dared to ask Miss Ashton to change 
 her shoes, or put on her cloak and hat for her, 
 est she should be asked where she was going. 
 But after waiting till the lady was busy with 
 Maggie's music-lesson, she had run out in the 
 little prunella gaiters which were fit only for
 
 152 Bessie at School. 
 
 the house, and with her cloak half fastened, 
 for she could not put it on properly herself. 
 Now the damp, cold air was blowing about 
 her, and making her feel very chilly and un- 
 comfortable. 
 
 She had not told herself that she was going 
 to be disobedient ; but had said that she would 
 just run down to the field, and peep over the 
 fence at the boys. When she came there, 
 however, the fence was quite too high for her 
 to look over, and remembering the clump of 
 evergreen bushes which was just beyond, she 
 thought she would climb to the top of the wall, 
 and sit there, herself hidden by the bushes, 
 while she could see the boys quite well. That 
 old summer-house would hide her from the 
 house. 
 
 So Belle had thought, saying to herself, 
 " Aunt Margaret " so she called Mrs. Brad- 
 lord " did not know it was very safe behind 
 the bushes, and the balls cannot hit me there. 
 I guess she would let me if she knew." 
 
 Something kept saying to her, " Oh, no,
 
 The Hurt Foot. 153 
 
 Belle ! you know Aunt Margaret would not let 
 you. You are very naughty, little Belle. 
 What would your papa say if he knew what 
 you were doing ? " But she would not listen. 
 
 Ah ! if Belle were so sure Mrs. Bradford 
 would let her do this, why was she so afraid 
 of being seen ? 
 
 She was already sadly punished, for she 
 now found that the bushes which hid her from 
 the boys also hid them from her. She could 
 hear their voices very well, and knew that 
 they would hear her if she cried aloud ; but 
 she could not see one of them. And that 
 stone had hurt her foot, oh, so badly ! and 
 there she was, afraid to move either way. 
 
 But it would not do for her to be found 
 there ; and at last she slipped down from the 
 wall, and ran as fast as she could into the old 
 summer-house. There she climbed up on the 
 seat, and prepared to look at the foot that was 
 hurt. 
 
 Very slowly and carefully, for fear of knot- 
 ting the lace, she unfastened her shoe, and
 
 154 Bessie at School. 
 
 pulled it off. Next the little sock was removed, 
 and Belle turned up her small foot so that 
 she might see the heel. 
 
 " Ow, ow ! " she said, when she saw it. 
 "There's a great piece of skin off it. Ow, 
 ow!" 
 
 She had almost forgotten the pain in her 
 foot while she was running from the forbidden 
 spot ; but now when she saw how badly it 
 looked, it seemed to feel a good deal worse. 
 She sat and gazed at it for some moments, and 
 then taking up her sock, she looked in it, 
 turned it inside out, and shook it. Next she 
 shook out her shoe, and felt all around the in- 
 side with her hand ; next she looked all about 
 the planked floor of the summer-house. 
 
 " Why ! where has that skin gone to ? " she 
 exclaimed. 
 
 But although she had not found that for 
 which she was looking, she found something 
 else, something very bad indeed. Belle 
 thought it worse even than that ugly graze upon 
 her foot. There was a great hole in her sock ;
 
 The Hurt Foot. 155 
 
 and worse, and worse, another ! a jagged tear 
 in the little gaiter ! She took up the shoe and 
 the sock again, and sat with one in each hand, 
 looking at them with a very sober face. 
 
 " There now ! " she said, at last. " I dis- 
 obeyed my Aunt Margaret fee things. I came 
 out with these shoes on, that's one ; I came 
 down to the ball-ground, that's two ; and 1 
 climbed the fence, that's fee. She didn't tell 
 me don't climb the fence, but I guess I knew 
 she didn't want me to ; so I'm 'fraid it was a 
 disobey. Now I'll have to go and tell her, and 
 then she'll look sorry at me ; and I think pei- 
 haps she'll punish me, and perhaps papa will 
 know it. Oh, dear ! I wish I hadn't, I wish 1 
 hadn't ; " and Belle began to cry. 
 
 By and by she stopped crying, wiped her 
 eyes, and began to put on her shoe and stock- 
 ing. They had come off easily enough ; but 
 to put them on was another thing. At last 
 the sock was pulled on after a fashion, all one- 
 sided, and half an inch beyond her toes, for 
 Belle was not used to dressing herself. But
 
 156 Bessie at School. 
 
 do what she would, she could not put on the 
 shoe. She pulled and pulled, till she was 
 quite red in the face, but all in vain ; and at 
 last she gave an impatient scream and threw 
 the shoe from her. 
 
 " Bad old thing ! " she said, and sat a mo- 
 ment frowning at it. But the shoe did not 
 mind being looked cross at, at all ; and pres- 
 ently Belle sprung to her feet, and went and 
 picked it up, feeling rather ashamed. 
 
 "I am going to Miss Ashton," she said; 
 " and she'll ask me where I went, and I'll tell 
 her." 
 
 But just then she heard Bessie's voice. She 
 had quite forgotten that the half-hour for the 
 music-lesson must have gone by, and that it 
 must be time to go home ; and there was Bes- 
 sie running down the garden-path, and calling 
 to her. 
 
 " Belle, Belle ! where are you, Belle ? " 
 
 Bessie had not come to school that morn- 
 ing, for the weather had been so damp that 
 her mother had not thought it safe for her to go
 
 The Hurt Foot. 157 
 
 out ; but as it had cleared up before Jane went 
 for the other children, she had given her leave 
 to go with the nurse. 
 
 But when they came to the school, Belle 
 was not to be found ; and some one saying she 
 had been seen to run out in the garden, Bessie 
 went in search of her, while Jane put on Mag- 
 gie's things. 
 
 " Here I am, Bessie," said Belle, putting her 
 head out of the summer-house. 
 
 Bessie ran to her, and great was her aston- 
 ishment when she saw Belle standing there 
 with her sacque all awry and half-buttoned, 
 and her shoe held in her hand. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " she asked. 
 
 "Oh, I was naughty ! " said Belle. " I went 
 and climbed up on the wall where your mam- 
 ma told us not to go ; and a great ugly stone 
 hurt my foot, and tore my shoe and stocking, 
 and oh, Bessie ! I can't find the skin." 
 
 She showed Bessie the hurt foot, and then 
 a new search was commenced for the missing 
 piece of skin ; but it was all in vain, and after
 
 158 Bessie at School. 
 
 much wonderment as to what could have be- 
 come of it, Bessie begged Belle to come at 
 onco to the house. 
 
 " For Jane must have Maggie ready," she 
 said ; " and you will take cold barefeeted, Belle. 
 "We must go right home and tell mamma." 
 
 The garden-path was planked, like the sum- 
 mer-house floor, about half-way up to the 
 house ; and Belle went on pretty well over 
 the smooth boards, which did not hurt the lit- 
 tle stocking-foot, but when she came to the 
 gravel walks, it was not so easy. There the 
 pebbles hurt ; and she limped and hopped along 
 till she came to the back stoop, where Miss 
 Ashton and Jane met her, full of alarm at the 
 state in which they found her. 
 
 Miss Ashton did not scold, but she looked 
 very much grieved at Belle's disobedience ; 
 and she told Jane she must take her home as 
 fast as possible, so that the hurt foot might be 
 attended to, and something be given to her, 
 which might prevent her from taking cold. 
 
 As for putting on the walking-shoe, or even
 
 The Hurt #oot. 159 
 
 the cut gaiter, that was quite out of the ques- 
 tion. Miss Ashton rolled a soft handkerchief 
 around the foot; and, wrapping a shawl over 
 that, Jane took Belle in her arms, and hurried 
 home as fast as Bessie's little feet could keep 
 pace with her. But if Miss Ashton had not 
 much to say, Jane found enough. 
 
 " To think of your doing such a thing, Miss 
 Belle ! " she said ; " to be so naughty, and hurt 
 yourself, and maybe make yourself sick, and 
 give so much trouble to Mrs. Bradford. Now 
 she'll be so worried, and that's very bad for 
 her. You know she was worse the other day 
 when Frankie fell down and cut his head." 
 
 " But that was most entirely your fault, 
 Jane," said Maggie : " you ran in very sud- 
 denly, and screamed to mamma that Frankie 
 was most killed ; and papa said it gave her a 
 shock, and people ought to tell her things qui- 
 etly and gently so as not to frighten her." 
 
 " I don't know what she'll say when I tell 
 her," said Jane, " and your papa away, and 
 all."
 
 160 Bessie at School. 
 
 " You shan't tell her," said Belle : " I'll 
 tell her, myself." 
 
 " Yes," said Bessie. " It's better for Belle 
 to tell mamma herself, Janey ; and I will help 
 her. I have thought how we can tell her in a 
 manner that is not at all shocking, and she 
 would rather we would tell of ourselves when 
 we have been naughty." 
 
 When they reached home, Jane carried 
 Belle to the head of the stairs, where she put 
 her down ; and the three little girls arranged 
 their plan for telling mamma. 
 
 Belle took off her hat, and putting the little 
 gaiter, which she still held in her hand, in the 
 hollow of the crown, held the hat against her 
 bosom with both arms, so that the shoe was 
 quite hidden. She, as well as the other two, 
 wanted Mrs. Bradford to question them before 
 she saw the shoe or the foot. It was not that 
 they wished to keep any thing back from her, 
 but they feared to tell her too suddenly. 
 
 They all wished it was over, especially Belle ; 
 and the young faces were by no means as
 
 The Hurt Fotot. 161 
 
 bright as they usually were, when they ran in 
 to mamma's room on their daily return from 
 school. Belle kept behind the others until 
 she came close to Mrs. Bradford, when, with- 
 out putting up her face for the kiss which gen- 
 erally welcomed her, she sat down on a stool 
 at the lady's side, still keeping her bandaged 
 foot carefully out of sight. 
 
 Mrs. Bradford did not speak to her, or tell 
 her to come and kiss her, as Belle half hoped, 
 half feared, she would do. She kept on with 
 her work with a \ery grave face, and that 
 work was a pretty little sacque, like some 
 owned by Maggie and Bessie, which she was 
 embroidering for Belle. The child knew it 
 was for her; and she had been disobeying 
 that dear, kind friend. She seemed to feel 
 how naughty and ungrateful she had been even 
 more than she had done before. 
 
 " She looks as sorry as if she knew," said 
 
 Belle, to herself: " but then she can't know 
 
 yet. No one saw me do it but God,, and He 
 
 never tells about people; but I guess He's 
 
 11
 
 i62 Bdssic at School, 
 
 pretty sorry too, 'cause I was so naughty 
 Maybe He won't be so sorry with me if I tell 
 Aunt Margaret pretty quick. I'll just do it, if 
 Bessie don't make haste." 
 
 Bessie was just preparing to tell her story ; 
 but in order not to shock her mamma, she 
 came to it in rather a roundabout way, not at 
 all like her usual fashion of telling things. 
 Sitting down upon the rug at Belle's side, she 
 said in a grave tone, 
 
 " Mamma, Belle and Maggie and I have 
 found out something to-day." 
 
 " Have you, dear ? " said mamma, very sober 
 ly ; but she did not ask what it was, as Belle had 
 hoped she would. It would make the confes 
 sion so much easier, she thought, if Aunt Mar 
 garet would only question them a little ; but 
 she did not seem inclined to do so. And there 
 was the cut shoe beneath the hat, which Belle 
 had now allowed to slip carefully down into 
 her lap, keeping both hands pressed on it, as il 
 she feared it would jump out of its own accord, 
 and show itself before the proper time.
 
 The Hurt Foot. 163 
 
 " Yes'm," said Bessie, in reply to her moth 
 er : " it is something we did not know about 
 before." 
 
 This time there was no answer ; 1 ut Belle 
 thought Mrs. Bradford looked at her as if she 
 expected she would speak for herself, instead 
 of letting Bessie do it for her. She shrugged 
 up her shoulders, wriggled herself about on 
 her seat, and felt more and more uncomfort- 
 able. 
 
 Bessie waited a moment, and then spoke 
 again. 
 
 " We've found out the color of the inside of 
 people's heels, mamma," she said ; while Belle 
 looked with a very innocent air into the fire. 
 Bessie went on, " Least we've found out the 
 color of Belle's, and I s'pose all people's are 
 the same. It's a nice color : it's pink." 
 
 " How did you find that out, dear ? " asked 
 mamma. 
 
 " Belle's foot is peeled, and we saw the in- 
 side of it. But, mamma, we couldn't find the 
 nkin."
 
 164 Bessie at School. 
 
 " How did the skin come off your foot, 
 Belle ? " asked Mrs. Bradford, trying not to 
 gmile, and speaking for the first time to the 
 little culprit, while Aunt Bessie, who sat by, 
 turned her face aside. 
 
 " 'Cause a big hole came in my stocking, 
 ma'am," answered Belle. 
 
 " How was that ? It was a very good little 
 stocking when it was put on this morning." 
 
 " 'Cause a big, larger hole came in my shoe, 
 and it went foo and foo." 
 
 " But it was a very good shoe too, quite 
 new," answered Mrs. Bradford. " How did a 
 hole come in it already ? " 
 
 " A stone came on it, Aunt Margaret ; but, 
 Aunt Margaret, I'm 'fraid it came on it 
 'cause I was naughty. I disobeyed you fee 
 times, Aunt Margaret ; " and Belle's voice had 
 a piteous tone in it, as if she were about to 
 burst into a cry again. 
 
 " And does my little Belle want to tell me 
 all about it ? " asked Mrs. Bradford, throwing 
 down her work, and holding out her arms to 
 the child.
 
 The Hurt Foot. 165 
 
 Belle lot hat and shoe slip to the ground, 
 and in another moment had scrambled into 
 Mrs. Bradford's lap. Ah ! what a comfort it 
 was to feel about her those kind arms, whose 
 dear, loving clasp reminded her of those of 
 her lost mamma ! and to nestle her head 
 against Aunt Margaret's shoulder, while she 
 confessed with many a penitent sob how 
 naughty she had been ! 
 
 " I s'pose you'll have to punish me pretty 
 much : won't you, Aunt Margaret ? " said Belle, 
 when her story was finished. 
 
 " My poor little girl, I'm afraid you have 
 punished yourself more than I should," said 
 Mrs. Bradford. 
 
 " Oh, no, Aunt Margaret ! I did not punish 
 myself one bit. I did not go in the closet for 
 a single moment," said Belle. 
 
 While Belle had been talking, Mrs. Bradford 
 had taken off the bandage, and was looking 
 at the little grazed foot. She still held it ten- 
 derly in her hand when the child said these 
 last words.
 
 1 66 Bessie at School. 
 
 " You have punished yourself without going 
 in the closet," she said. " This poor little 
 foot must have some salve on it, and be bound 
 up ; and you cannot wear a shoe for several 
 days, lest it should be rubbed. So you will 
 have to stay in the house and not go out at 
 all." 
 
 " And, Belle," Mrs. Bradford went on more 
 slowly now, " a telegram came from your fa- 
 ther a short time ago, saying that he would be 
 here to-night, and begging me to send you to 
 the railroad depot to meet him ; but it will be 
 late, and I am afraid to let you go out even in 
 a carriage, after you have run so much risk of 
 taking cold. He will have to be disappointed, 
 my little girl ; and I fear he will be sorry when 
 he sees your foot, and hears how it was hurt." 
 
 Now, indeed, Belle felt that she was pun- 
 ished for her disobedience. The delight of 
 having her father back again was almost lost 
 sight of in her distress at not being able to go 
 and meet him, and the thought that he would 
 know how naughty she had been.
 
 The Hurt Foot. 167 
 
 Mrs. Bradford put her on the sofa, . and 
 brought some salve and soft linen, and bound 
 up the foot, after which Belle was carried down- 
 stairs, so that she might have her dinner with 
 the other children. But she could not eat ; 
 the thought of her father and his disappoint- 
 ment brought a great lump in her throat ; and 
 though she tried hard not to cry, the tears 
 would find their way out and roll down her 
 cheeks. Maggie and Bessie did their best to 
 console her, but all in vain ; and when, at 
 last, they went out for their walk, which 
 mamma would not allow them to omit, they 
 left her on the library sofa in a very mourn- 
 ful state. 
 
 "If papa wouldn't look sorry, I wouldn't 
 care so very much," said Belle, as Mrs. Brad- 
 ford tried to comfort her. " I promised him 
 to be good all the time, and I went and was 
 naughty just when he was coming back." 
 
 " I am very sorry for you, dear," said Mrs. 
 Bradford ; " but I shall tell your papa you have 
 been a good girl all the rest of the time ; and
 
 i68 Bessie at School. 
 
 this will help you to remember that yout 
 older friends know best." 
 
 " Yes'm," sobbed Belle. " But, Aunt Mar- 
 garet, I don't think myself gave myself such a 
 great, large punishment as this. I don't think 
 I could do it. I guess God did it, 'cause Ho 
 knew I deserved it, for disobeying you so. 
 Maybe He thought I wouldn't tell you, and 
 you wouldn't know to punish me, so He better 
 do it. I forgot He saw me, till my foot waa 
 hurt, and I was 'fraid on the fence." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Bradford : " I think you 
 are right, and that ' our Father in heaven * 
 meant to give His little girl a lesson. What 
 lesson has my Belle learned this morning ? " 
 
 " To mind you, my wise friend," said Belle. 
 
 " Yes ; and what else ? " 
 
 The child thought a moment, and then said, 
 " That He sees me ev'ry day, and is sorry with 
 me when I'm naughty. But, Aunt Margaret, 
 what made you look so sorry at me, as if you 
 knew, before I told you." 
 
 " I did know, Belle."
 
 The Hurt Foot. 169 
 
 " Why, how ? Did God tell you ? " 
 
 " Aunt Bessie was coming along the street 
 on the other side of the ball-ground, and she 
 saw a little figure on the top of the fence ; and 
 she knew who it was and felt frightened lest 
 you should fall and be hurt ; for she was too 
 far away to be of any help. But God took 
 care of the little girl who did not care for her- 
 self, and let her come down off the fence with 
 out being killed as she might have been. Aunt 
 Bessie saw that you had come down safely, and 
 then she came here and told me about it. She 
 did not know that you were hurt, nor did I ; 
 but I felt anxious to know if you would come 
 and confess your fault, and though I am sorry 
 that you were disobedient, I do not feel half as 
 badly as I should have done if you had tried 
 to hide it." 
 
 " I'd have told you quicker, Aunt Margaret, 
 only we were afraid you'd be too shocked, and 
 Bessie made up that way to tell you." 
 
 "You were very considerate," said Mrs. 
 Bradford, smiling as she remembered Bea-
 
 170 Bessie at School. 
 
 sie's roundabout fashion of bringing out her 
 story. 
 
 Belle sat still witl a grave face for a few 
 moments, thinking of what her kind friend 
 had said. 
 
 " Aunt Margaret," she then began, " God 
 took good care of me ; but He did not take very 
 good care of my foot, did He ? " 
 
 " Yes, Belle : this little foot might have 
 been so crushed by that stone that you never 
 would have been able to walk again ; but God 
 watched over it, and only let it be hurt enough 
 to remind it not to run into naughty, disobe- 
 dient ways. He has been very good to you, 
 dear." 
 
 Just then, Patrick came to say some visitors 
 were in the other room; and Mrs. Bradford, 
 giving Belle a picture-book, told her to amuse 
 herself with it till she came back. 
 
 Belle sat still for a few moments after Mrs. 
 Bradford left her, not looking at the pictures, 
 but thinking of her own naughtiness j and at 
 last, she said aloud,
 
 The Hurt Foot. 171 
 
 *' I guess if God took so much trouble to 
 punish me just enough to make me remember, 
 and not enough to make me a lame girl all 
 my life, I'd better punish myself a little 
 too." 
 
 Belle sometimes punished herself when she 
 knew she had been naughty, and her way 
 of doing this was to shut herself up in tho 
 closet. 
 
 There was one which opened out of the 
 library. It was not dark, but the little win- 
 dow which lighted it was high up in the wall, 
 so that she could not see out ; and there was 
 nothing there to amuse her, for it was hung 
 around with overcoats and hats, so that it was 
 really disagreeable to her to shut herself up 
 there as she had done more than once since 
 she had been at Mrs. Bradford's. 
 
 She slipped down from the sofa, and went 
 into the closet where she pulled the door to, 
 and sat down upon the floor, still thinking how 
 sorry papa would look. But presently she felt 
 tired, and looking around her, she saw a car-
 
 172 Bessie at School. 
 
 riage-robe lying in the corner. She rolled up 
 one end of this for a pillow, and curled herself 
 up upon it ; and there, a few moments later, 
 Mrs. Bradford found her fast asleep. She 
 called Jane, and had Belle carried to her crib, 
 feeling very thankful that the little girl truly 
 repented of her fault ; for she saw she was quite 
 in earnest about punishing herself. Belle took 
 a long nap, and the children had been home 
 some time. She awoke, and it was then nearly 
 time for her papa to come. When at last he 
 arrived, he did indeed look grieved to see the 
 hurt foot, and hear how it had happened, but 
 he was glad she had not tried to hide it. 
 
 " But, papa," said Belle, when she had fin- 
 ished her confession, " Bessie and I could not 
 find that skin. I wonder what did become of 
 it." 
 
 The children were all three greatly puzzled 
 and disturbed at the disappearance of the piece 
 of skin which had been scraped from Belle's 
 foot ; and late that night when mamma was her- 
 self going to bed, and went to give her birdies
 
 The Hurt Foot. 173 
 
 a last kiss, Bessie roused a little as her mother 
 leaned over her, and murmured sleepily, 
 
 "I wonder what did become of Belle's 
 skin."
 
 vm. 
 
 THE BROKEN CLOCK. 
 
 ]T was recess ; and Bessie stood at the 
 back school-room window, watching 
 her brothers and the rest of Mr. 
 Peters' boys at play. Four of the older girls 
 were in the room, two of them standing by 
 the fire talking ; while the others, namely, Kate 
 Maynard and Fanny Berry, were at their desks, 
 each preparing a neglected lesson. Their 
 French master came at half-ppst twelve, and 
 they were now in a great hurry to finish the 
 exercises which should have been ready the 
 night before. 
 
 " There ! " said Kate, throwing down her 
 pen, and shutting her exercise-book with an 
 energetic slap upon the cover, " I am through. 
 How about you, Fanny ? "
 
 The Broken Clock. 175 
 
 Fanny looked up at the little clock which 
 sto( d upon the mantel-piece, and shook her 
 head despairingly. 
 
 " No," she said, " and I shall not be ahle to 
 finish. I am not half as quick as you, Kate. 
 It is twenty minutes past twelve, and old Gau- 
 frau will be here in ten minutes. Oh, if I had 
 but ten more, I would do it ! He threatened 
 to complain of me to Mrs. Ashton next time I 
 was not ready for him. It's all the fault of 
 that story-book you lent me, Julia Grafton : I 
 sat the whole evening reading it, and quite 
 forgot my exercise." 
 
 " Please do not blame me or the book," said 
 .Julia. "I did not ask you to borrow it, nor 
 did the book request to be read, I imagine." 
 
 " Do stop talking, and write all you can," 
 said Kate. " What's the good of wasting more 
 time ? " 
 
 " If I only had ten minutes more ! " moaned 
 Fanny again." 
 
 " If the clock were only slow, as it was the 
 other day," said Mary Merton. " We need
 
 176 Bessie at School. 
 
 not tell Monsieur that it was not right, for he 
 would never know ; for he has no watch of his 
 own, and always goes by this." 
 
 " Tell him it's too fast," said another. 
 
 "He'll be sure to suspect something when 
 lie sees Fanny scrambling through her exer- 
 cise at that rate." 
 
 " He's used to see Fan doing that," laughed 
 Julia Grafton, looking at Fanny, who, with a 
 very distressed face, was writing away as fast 
 as her pen could move, caring little for the 
 many mistakes she was making, if she only 
 had the exercise finished and handed in with 
 the rest, so that she might escape the threat- 
 ened complaint to Mrs. Ashton. 
 
 Poor Fanny! Indolent and procrastina- 
 ting, loving her pleasure better than her duty, 
 she was often in such troubles as this. Still, 
 she was good-natured and obliging ; and her 
 schoolmates pitied and were fond of her, and 
 were always ready to help her if they could. 
 
 V Do some one put the clock back," pleaded 
 Fanny.
 
 The Broken Clock. 177 
 
 "To be sure," said Kate. "Why did not 
 we think of that before? Monsieur will be 
 nicely taken in." 
 
 " But suppose Mrs. Ashton finds it out ? " 
 said Julia. 
 
 " Mrs. Ashton will not suspect any thing," 
 said Mary, as Kate laid her hand upon the 
 clock. " It has been wrong once : why not 
 again ? " 
 
 " Take care you do not injure it," said Ju- 
 lia, uneasily. '" 1 know Mr. Ashton gave that 
 clock to his wife only a few days before he 
 died. It was the last thing he ever gave her, 
 and he placed it there on the mantel-piece; 
 for which reason she leaves it here, though I 
 rather wonder at her doing so." 
 
 While the others were speaking, Kate May- 
 nard had taken down the clock ; and Marj? 
 Merton opened it, and moved back the hands. 
 As Kate went to replace it upon the mantel- 
 piece, the voice of Mrs. Ashton speaking to 
 the French professor, and his in reply, were 
 heard in the hall. In her haste, Kate did not 
 
 12
 
 i7& Bessie at School. 
 
 put the clock far enough back upon the shelf: it 
 slipped between that and her hand, and fell 
 upon the hearth. Strange to say, it did not 
 fly in pieces as all the girls expected would 
 be the case ; not even the glass over the face 
 was cracked, for the clock fell upon its side, 
 and as the terrified Kate raised it, it appeared 
 unhurt. The next moment, however, as she 
 put it in its proper place, a whirring sound 
 was heard, then a sharp, short click, and the 
 hands stood still. 
 
 Mrs. Ashton and Monsieur Gaufrau, hearing 
 nothing of what was going on within, still 
 stood talking in the hall ; and the girls, in- 
 cluding Fanny, who had quite forgotten her 
 lesson, stood looking from one to another in 
 guilty and alarmed silence. 
 
 Mary Merton was the first to break it. 
 
 "Thank fortune!" she exclaimed. "The 
 thing does not look damaged ; and no one need 
 know how it happened, if we all keep our own 
 secret. Oh, there's Bessie Bradford ! " and 
 Mary looked more frightened than she had
 
 The Broken Clock. 179 
 
 done before, as she fixed her eyes on the child's 
 shocked and astonished face ; for she, as well 
 as the others, had a feeling that no deceit 01 
 concealment was to be looked for from Bessie. 
 
 Until that moment, they had all forgotten 
 the presence of the little girl, who now stood 
 silent on the window-seat, her face turned to- 
 wards the uneasy group, looking from one to 
 another with an expression of mingled wonder, 
 grief, and indignation, under which the most 
 insensible among them felt herself abashed. 
 
 " Mousie ! " said Kate Maynard, who 
 generally called Bessie by that pet name, " I 
 had forgotten that you were there ! Remember 
 you are not to say a word. If you do, I will 
 never forgive you." 
 
 There was no time for more, for the profes- 
 sor's step was heard approaching ; and as the 
 girls suddenly scattered to different parts of 
 the room, he opened the door and came in. 
 
 "Ah!" he said in French, after bidding 
 them good morning and looking at the clock, 
 " 1 see I am too early, and I am glad ; for I
 
 i8o Bessie at School. 
 
 have left at Mr. Peters' a book which I shall 
 need, and I have yet time to return for it. 
 Your pardon, young ladies." Then as he 
 turned to go, and caught sight of Bessie, he 
 smiled and came towards her. She was a 
 great favorite with him, although she was not 
 one of his scholars ; for he had now and then 
 met her in this room, and her polite and lady- 
 like little ways were very pleasing to the cere- 
 monious old Frenchman, who always made a 
 point of bowing to her with his very best grace, 
 which Bessie would return by giving him her 
 mite of a hand to shake, and saying prettily, 
 " Bon jour, Monsieur," as her mamma had 
 taught her. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Monsieur Gaufrau, changing 
 from his own language to his broken English, 
 for he knew that Bessie understood only a 
 fev words of the former, " Ah ! you look sad, 
 ma petite. What have you ? you are trouble. 
 These great demoiselles have tease you ? Do 
 not be sad of that ; they do not mean nothing ; 
 it is but their joy. They are good of heart,
 
 The Broken Clock. 181 
 
 unt have not too much thought. Mademoi- 
 selle Maynard, you cannot make glad onco 
 more your little friend ? I am of haste ; " and 
 patting Bessie on the head, he waved his hand 
 politely towards Kate, as if committing the 
 little child to her care, and hurried away. 
 
 Bessie looked after the gray-haired and kind- 
 hearted old gentleman as he went out, and 
 closed the door behind him, and then turned 
 her eyes on Kate. Was Kate, of whom she 
 had really grown very fond, going to carry on 
 this deception ? She had not time to speak, 
 scarce even to collect her thoughts ; for the 
 next moment the young lady caught her up 
 in her usual abrupt fashion, and seating her 
 on her desk, placed herself before her, while 
 the rest gathered hurriedly around. 
 
 Bessie knew that a struggle was before her, 
 and somehow she felt that all these great girls 
 were banded together against her. There was 
 only time for a little wish, a half-breathed, up- 
 ward thought ; but it was heard and answered. 
 
 " Bessie," said Kate, in a low tone, " you
 
 1 82 Bessie at School. 
 
 are not to speak of this, or to let any one sup 
 pose that you knew of it, or were in the room. 
 Do you understand ? " 
 
 The child looked steadily at her, though her 
 color rose, and her breath came quickly, and 
 she had, oh ! such a longing to be safely 
 home at the side of her own dear mamma. 
 
 " S'pose some one asks me ? " she said. 
 
 Kate colored in her turn, and hesitated. 
 
 " Say you don't know any thing about it," 
 said Mary Merton. " It is true enough : you 
 don't. You had nothing to do with the clock." 
 
 " But I know about it," answered Bessie : 
 " I saw what did happen to it, and I heard that 
 noise it made ; and I know something pretty 
 much is the matter with it. Once Fred threw 
 his ball in our nursery, and it knocked down 
 the clock, and it made just that noise, and was 
 so spoiled papa had to buy another one. But 
 Fred went right away and told papa," she 
 added, as a hint to her hearers of the course 
 she thought they ought to take. 
 
 " Telling one's papa is a different thing
 
 The Broken Clock. 183 
 
 h'om telling Mrs. Ashton," said Mary. " She 
 will be so furious if she finds out how it hap- 
 pened." 
 
 " Ah ! that is it," said Kate : " I would not 
 hesitate a moment to tell her I had broken the 
 clock ; but how can I tell her how it came 
 about ? " 
 
 " And I shall get into trouble too," said 
 Fanny, in her fretful tones. " Girls, what 
 shall we do ? " 
 
 " Do ! " repeated Mary Merton. " There is 
 but one, thing to do, and that is to stand by 
 one another. There are only four of us here, 
 and none of us know any thing about it : that 
 is all. As for you, little telltale, if you have 
 a word to say about it, remember that it is 
 your friend Kate you will get into a peck of 
 trouble." 
 
 " I'm not a telltale ! " said Bessie, indignant- 
 ly, keeping down her temper with great diffi- 
 culty. " I'm not a telltale ; and if you don't 
 tfant me to, I won't tell any one the clock is 
 Broken, not even my dear mamma, or my own
 
 184 Bessie at School. 
 
 Maggie. I s'pose I needn't, when I didn't do 
 it myself. But if Mrs. Ashton asks about it, 
 I'll have to tell her." 
 
 " Why don't you run quick, and tell her all 
 about it now ? " sneered Mary. " You can 
 get us all nicely punished, if you make a gcod 
 story of it. Go, telltale, go ! " 
 
 Bessie made no answer, but watched Kate's 
 face anxiously. 
 
 " See here', Bessie," said Fanny : " promise 
 us not to say a word about it, if Mrs. Ashton 
 asks ; and I will dress a beautiful doll for you." 
 
 Bessie shook her head resolutely. 
 
 " Do you think I'd tell a story for a doll ? " 
 she answered, and then, putting her arms 
 round Kate's neck, she whispered, "I would 
 help you if I could, Katie : but I couldn't make 
 Jesus sorry even for you ; and you won't do it, 
 dear, will you? Please think about Him, 
 Katie, and don't tell a wicked story. He will 
 help you to be brave, if you ask Him." 
 
 None of the others heard what she said, but 
 it was easy enough to guess that she was try-
 
 The Broken^ Clock. 185 
 
 ing to persuade Kate to do right ; and Fanny, 
 for once roused to energy, exclaimed, 
 
 " You'll have to stand by us, Kate : you 
 can't tell your own share in the mischief with- 
 out bringing in the rest, and you've no right 
 to do it. And as for you, Bessie, if you bring 
 us into any trouble with your nonsense, we'll 
 keep you out of our room, and have nothing 
 more to do with you. We won't have a mean 
 little telltale here spying and reporting us." 
 
 But this, as well as many other threats and 
 promises, proved of no avail. Bessie could 
 not be persuaded to say that she would tell an 
 untruth, if she were asked about the clock ; 
 and the more steadfast she was, the more ur- 
 gent grew the older girls. 
 
 " It is so, Bessie," sighed Kate, all her frol- 
 icsome spirits quite put to flight. " It is so : I 
 cannot confess my own share without bringing 
 in Fanny and Mary ; and I don't know th at 
 that would be fair, even if I dared to tell of 
 myself. But I tell you what we will do for 
 you, if you promise faithfully and I know
 
 1 86 Bessie at School. 
 
 you will keep your word not to betray us. 
 You are so anxious to have that hospital bed 
 for your lame Jemmy. Promise to say what 
 we all say, and we will all vote that you shall 
 have that prize ; and I will coax the four girls 
 who are not here to do the same. They will 
 do it for me." 
 
 Bessie knew that this was true, for Kate 
 generally carried things her own way in her 
 room. " Maggie, of course, will vote for you : 
 so will Belle and Lily ; and so no one else will 
 have a chance, for that will be more than half 
 the school, and you are sure of the prize. 
 Quick ! speak, Bessie ! There is no time 
 to lose. Monsieur will be back in a mo- 
 ment." 
 
 " Think of the good you will do the lame 
 boy," said Fanny : " and just by such a little 
 well, you can't call it even a ' fib,' for you 
 don't know much about the clock, you don't 
 understand it, and you did not see, it break. 
 For all you know, it may be all right in a few 
 moments."
 
 The Broken Clock. 187 
 
 " Then Mrs. Ashton won't ask about it, arid 
 I needn't speak," said Bessie. 
 
 " Pshaw ! you always come back to the same 
 point," said Mary. "None of us need speak, 
 if Mrs. Ashton does not ask us : need we ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Bessie. " Some one ought to 
 speak now." 
 
 " And who'd be so mean, I'd like to know ? " 
 said Fanny. 
 
 Bessie had a feeling that the meanness lay 
 elsewhere : first, in the deception practised 
 upon the. patient and polite old Frenchman; 
 next, in the concealment of the mischief done 
 from Mrs. Ashton. But she did not like to 
 speak out all that was in her mind to these 
 girls who were so much older, and might be 
 flupposed to be so much wiser than herself. 
 
 " Will you do this for lame Jemmy ? " said 
 Kate. "Make haste and tell us! There is 
 no doubt of your gaining the prize for him, if 
 we all promise you our votes, you know." 
 
 " You are very wicked and cruel if you do 
 not," said Mary. "How can you ever look
 
 i88 Bessie at School. 
 
 the poor fellow in the face again, and remem- 
 ber that you refused to give him a chance of 
 being cured ? For if you will not do this little 
 favor for us, you need not look for the votes 
 from this room." 
 
 " We don't ask you to say what is not true," 
 said Kate : " you have only to keep silence, if 
 Mrs. Ashton speaks. There is nothing wrong 
 in that. Indeed, it is only right for you to do 
 so, when you will gain this great help for your 
 lame friend." 
 
 Poor Bessie! It was the first time in all 
 her little life that she had been even tempted 
 to do or say what was not true ; but this was 
 a sore trial. She had thought so much of 
 lame Jemmy, longed so to earn the prize for 
 his sake ; and now she was sure of it, if she 
 would but what ? 
 
 Act a lie! or, at least, help to cover a 
 shameful deception ! Yes, it was that ! She 
 could not hide the truth from her own con- 
 science. Kate told her that it was right; 
 they were all trying to persuade her to do
 
 The Broken Clod 189- 
 
 wrong, that good might come of it, trying to 
 make her think that it was really her duty ; 
 and for a moment, it did seem hard to decide 
 what she ought to do. 
 
 But it was only for a moment. Bessie had 
 watched and prayed that she might not enter 
 into temptation ; and she was not suffered to 
 fall. Her honest, truthful little soul saw it all 
 clearly. Helping Jemmy was not " God's 
 work," if it led her into sin against Him. 
 Truth .first, before all things : to speak truth, 
 to act truth. 
 
 " There ! " said Kate, as the child hesitated 
 for that instant : " I thought you'd be a good 
 child, and do as we wanted you to. She 
 promises, girls." 
 
 " No," said Bessie, with her color coming 
 and going, and pressing her little hands tight- 
 ly together : " I can't, Miss Kate ; not even for 
 lame Jemmy, not even if you never love me 
 any more, or speak to me again. It would not 
 be true." 
 
 "It is not telling a story, I tell you," said
 
 190 Bessie at School. 
 
 Kate, sharply, as she heard the rest of the 
 class in the hall below, and knew that in an 
 other moment it would be too late. 
 
 " But it would be behaving a stoiy," said 
 Bessie, " 'cause it would be letting Mrs. Ash- 
 ton believe I didn't know about it. I can't 
 see why it is not just the same ; and I know 
 Jesus would be sorry to have me earn the 
 prize for Jemmy that way." 
 
 " Go, then," said Kate, suddenly lifting the 
 child down from the desk, and placing her on 
 her feet : " go, then ! you are no pet of mine 
 after this: I want nothing more to do with 
 you." 
 
 " That won't trouble her," said Mary, with 
 a sneer. " A fine pretence of affection she has 
 made for you, only to serve you in this way, 
 Kate ! " 
 
 " Bessie, your nurse is waiting for you," 
 said Miss Laura Jones, who just then entered 
 the room. " Why, what is the matter ? " as 
 she saw the little one's troubled face, and 
 those of the elder girls flushed and angry.
 
 The Broken Clock. 
 
 191 
 
 " The matter is, that here is a mean, hate- 
 ful, little telltale," said Fanny. 
 
 " Take care what you do before her, or she 
 will run and tell Mrs. Ashton," said Mary. 
 
 Ah ! how hard it was to keep back the 
 angry words that were rising to her lips ; not 
 to tell those great girls what she thought of 
 them ! 
 
 " Why, how is this, my dears ? " said Mrs. 
 Ashton, coming in, and looking round in sur- 
 prise. " I thought Monsieur Gaufrau was 
 here." 
 
 " He did come in, ma'am," said Mary Mer- 
 ton, demurely, and with an air of perfect inno- 
 cence ; " but he had forgotten a book, and 
 thought he had time to go for it." 
 
 Mrs. Ashton looked at the clock, then took 
 out her watch. 
 
 " The clock is too slow," she said. " No, 
 it has stopped ! That accounts for his mis- 
 take. I must really hare it put in order." 
 
 Not a word was spoken. Bessie, quite for 
 getting in her anxiety that Jane was waiting
 
 192 Bessie at School. 
 
 for her, stood looking from one to another, as 
 Mrs. Ashton examined the clock, touching it 
 with a kind of reverent affection ; but not one 
 of those who were in the secret would mee* 
 the child's eye. 
 
 Maggie came in to see why Bessie did no 
 come ; and feeling as if she could not part 
 with Kate in such an angry mood, the little 
 girl went up to her, and slipped her hand in 
 hers ; but Kate pushed her from her, and 
 Bessie turned away with a swelling heart. 
 
 Suddenly Julia Grafton, who had not spoken 
 while the others were tempting Bessie, caught 
 the child in her arms as she passed, and kiss- 
 ing her warmly, whispered, " You are right, 
 Bessie : I wish I were as brave as you."
 
 IX. 
 
 THE CONFESSION. 
 
 10NSIEUR Gaufrau found his claps 
 unusually troublesome that morning. 
 Julia and -Kate, generally the two 
 brightest and quickest of all his scholars, 
 seemed now the most inattentive and dull ; 
 answering so at random, and appearing to pay 
 so little heed to what they were doing and 
 saying, as to make it very evident that their 
 thoughts were taken up with something quite 
 different from their lessons. As for luckless 
 Fanny, her exercise was only half written, and 
 full of mistakes ; and she stumbled through 
 the recitations in a disgraceful manner. Mary 
 Merton could repeat her lessons ; but her con- 
 duct was careless and defiant, and once, when 
 the professor reproved her slightly, very im- 
 pertinent. 
 
 18
 
 194 Bessie at School. 
 
 The old gentleman's patience was quite at 
 an end. Bad marks sadly deserved, too 
 went down to the credit of all four ; and tho 
 long threatened complaint to Mrs. Ashton wa? 
 made, including Mary as well as Fanny. 
 
 " Much any one has gained by that per 
 formancc of to-day," said Julia Grafton, as 
 she and her three guilty companions stood 
 together at the corner of the Square, after 
 school was dismissed. " Fanny certainly is no 
 better off, and here are three more of us in 
 trouble through the worry and fuss of it." 
 
 " Why don't you preach a sermon on it, and 
 take as a text, ' The way of transgressors is 
 hard ' ? " said Mary Merton, scornfully. 
 
 " And so she might with truth," said Kate 
 " I am sure we are finding it so." 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Fanny : " if you think it 
 such an awful sin just to move back the hands 
 of the clock a little, what did you do it for ? " . 
 
 " Because I did not think" said Kate, sadly. 
 " Oh ! if I only had, I should never have done 
 it. And now how are we to get out of ;be
 
 The Confession. 195 
 
 difficulty? Why didn't I tell Mrs. Ashton at 
 once ? " 
 
 " I do not see where the difficulty is, if only 
 Bessie Bradford does not betray us," said 
 Mary. " Mrs. Ashton suspects nothing, and 
 is not likely to ask any questions now. Tn 
 spite of my fright, I could not help laughing 
 to see those two complimenting one another. 
 Monsieur bowing and scraping, and assuring 
 Mrs. Ashton that he was ' desole ' at being so 
 late ; and Madam, with her gracious air, ex- 
 cusing him, and blaming the poor clock. The 
 only thing I am afraid of is that child." 
 
 " She has told it all at home by this time," 
 said Fanny. 
 
 " Not she," said Kate. " She promised she 
 wouldn't." 
 
 " ' Promised ! ' " repeated Mary : " she only 
 did that because she was afraid of us. I'll 
 answer for it, she told the whole story the 
 moment she was safely with Maggie and her 
 nurse." 
 
 " ' Afraid ! ' " repeated Julia in her turn : " 1
 
 ic)6 Bessie at School. 
 
 wish any one of us had one half little Bes- 
 sie's moral courage and simple honesty. "We 
 threatened her and tempted her, and all of 
 us who have seen how eager she is to earn 
 that prize for the lame boy, know how great 
 the temptation was, but she could not be 
 turned from the straightforward truth. She 
 has shamed us all, girls ! " 
 
 " Oh ! it is very easy for you to talk, Julia 
 Grafton," said Fanny. " You did not touch 
 the clock, and had no hand in the mischief." 
 
 " No ; or I should feel that I could go at 
 once and tell Mrs. Ashton. As it is, I can- 
 not." 
 
 " You would have no right to do it ! " ex 
 claimed Mary, with a look at Kate's downcast 
 face. " It is share, and share alike with us. 
 If you chose to bring trouble on yourself, you 
 would have no right to do it, on account of 
 the rest." 
 
 " I do not say that I should do it," said Julia. 
 " I have not so much courage as little Bessie. 
 But it is not Mrs. Ashton I am afraid of."
 
 fhe Confession. 197 
 
 " Of course not," said Mary : " you are a 
 favorite with Mrs. Ashton. But what are you 
 afraid of, if not of her ? " 
 
 " Of the ridicule and anger of the rest," 
 said Julia, coloring deeply. " You called Bes- 
 sie hard names, and threatened to send her to 
 Coventry. You would do the same by me, I 
 suppose, if I do not help you out in this ; and 
 I cannot face it as she did, though I own I am 
 ashamed of this cowardice. She felt it too, 
 poor little thing ! . Kate, did you see her 
 pleading look at you ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Kate. " Girls, I wish 
 this day's work could be undone." 
 
 " Well, it can't," said Fanny ; " and if you 
 think Bessie is safe, I don't see why you fret 
 about it." 
 
 " I'll tell you what it is," said Mary, " wo 
 must all bind ourselves by a solemn promise 
 not to say a word about it, whether questions 
 are asked or no. Yes, I believe Bessie will 
 keep her word, for we all know how squeam- 
 ish she is. Mrs. Ashton will never suspect
 
 198 Bessie at School. 
 
 her, even if she remembers she was in the 
 room ; and the worst we have to fear is some 
 kind of general inquiry, which can easily be 
 passed over. Let us bind one another to 
 silence." 
 
 It was done, Mary and Fanny giving their 
 word for this with much energy, Julia more 
 slowly, and Kate with a hesitation and un- 
 willingness which provoked the ridicule of the 
 two first ; and then they parted, Mary and 
 Fanny going one way, Kate and Julia another. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bessie had gone home with a 
 heavy heart. Maggie and Jane both noticed 
 how dull she was, but could not find out what 
 ailed her ; though the former seemed rather 
 hurt that Bessie should have any secret from 
 her. 
 
 Mrs. Bradford, too, saw that her little girl 
 was not in her customary spirits ; and when 
 she found that she did not, as usual, give her 
 an account of all that had passed in school 
 that morning, she asked her if she were " in 
 any trouble."
 
 The Confession, 199 
 
 " Yes, mamma," said Bessie. " I have a 
 very great weight on my mind, and it makes it 
 worse because I can't tell you ; but it is not 
 my own secret, and so I s'pose it's not for me 
 lo talk about." 
 
 " You have not been doing any thing wrong 
 in school, dear ? " 
 
 " No, mamma : I think not. I did want to 
 do what was wrong for a moment, 'cause it 
 seemed as if it would be a great help to a good 
 thing ; but I asked Jesus to help me to know 
 what He would like me to do, and I think He 
 did let me see it would not be His work if it 
 came by a wicked way." 
 
 " But you are not sorry now, dear, that you 
 were not suffered to do wrong that good might 
 come of it ? " 
 
 "No, mamma : I am very glad, and very 
 much grateful ; but I feel sorry about some 
 other people. I think they fell into a very 
 bad temptation, and did not try to get out 
 of it." 
 
 " Well, I will not ask yon any more, since
 
 2OO Bessie at School. 
 
 you do not feel at liberty to speak about it," 
 said Mrs. Bradford. 
 
 " I feel very badly not to tell you, mamma ; 
 but it was of accident that I was there and 
 savr it, and I did not quite know what was the 
 rightest thing to do where it was not my own 
 secret.- And there were a good many troubles 
 about it, and they all came so fast, and it 
 made a great trouble in my mind ; and so 
 maybe I made a mistake to say I would not 
 tell you. But, indeed, mamma, I did not 
 mean to be naughty." 
 
 " I do not believe you did, my darling ; and 
 we will not say another word about it, except 
 that you may always be sure that the safest 
 rule is to have no secrets from your mother." 
 
 Mrs. Bradford could give a pretty good guess 
 at the cause of Bessie's trouble, though not, of 
 course, at the particulars. She knew that her 
 little girl was a great pet and plaything of the 
 elder scholars ; and she saw plainly, from 
 what Bessie had innocently said, that they 
 were in some scrape into which they had tried
 
 The Confession. 201 
 
 to draw the child, or at least to make her hide 
 it ; and, also, that the little one's honest, 
 truthful spirit had been shocked and grieved 
 at the want of honor in her schoolmates. Bes- 
 sie was thoughtful and out of spirits all day, 
 and really dreaded the coming of school-time 
 the next morning. But she would not ask her 
 mother to let her stay at home, for she wanted 
 to know for herself if any farther trouble had 
 arisen about the clock ; and, more than this, 
 the brave little soul had a feeling that if she 
 staid away, the girls might think she did so to 
 avoid any questions, and was afraid to tell the 
 truth. 
 
 She wondered how Kate Maynard would 
 meet her, and if she would really keep her 
 threat of not speaking to her, or noticing her ; 
 and it was with a beating heart that she saw 
 the young lady coming down the street as she 
 and Maggie went up Mrs. Ashton's stoop the 
 next morning. 
 
 But she found that Kate had forgotten her 
 threat, or thought better of it , for she came
 
 202 Bessie at School. 
 
 up and met her as usual No not as usual 
 either ; for Kate's manner was half hesitating 
 and constrained, as if she were doubtful of the 
 greeting she should receive from Bessie. Her 
 frolicsome spirits seemed to have flown .a\vay ; 
 and Maggie, looking up to the brilliant black 
 eyes, wondered to see how they had lost their 
 merry light. 
 
 Thoughtless and inconsiderate as she was, 
 Kate Maynard was not accustomed to deceit 
 and meanness, and they sat uneasily upon her 
 conscience. 
 
 The children went to their school-room, Kate 
 to hers ; and both her eyes and Bessie's in- 
 stantly sought the clock. It was gone ! 
 
 Kate had the back room to herself just then, 
 for those of her class who had arrived w.cro 
 gathered in the hall or cloak-room ; and re- 
 fusing their invitations to join them, she 
 wandered to the window, and stood listlessly 
 gazing out. 
 
 Bessie watched her for a moment through 
 the open doors, and then going up to her,
 
 The Confession. 203 
 
 touched her hand, and said in a wistful, plead- 
 ing tone, 
 
 " Katie ? " 
 
 There was an unspoken question in the one 
 \ncrd, and Kate heard and felt it. But she 
 had no answer for it, nor could she meet the 
 clear, steadfast eyes that were raised to her 
 face. She did not withdraw her hand from 
 Bessie's ; but neither did she seem to notice 
 the child, and stood steadily gazing out of the 
 window, but seeing nothing. 
 
 Bessie longed to say something, but she 
 could not seem to find words for what was in 
 her heart ; and while she hesitated, the other 
 girls flocked in. Mrs. and Miss Ashton came 
 too : the bell was rung ; and all must go to 
 their seats. 
 
 School was opened ; but the folding-doors 
 were not closed as usual, when this was over. 
 
 Rapping upon the table with a paper-folder, 
 to call the attention of all in both the rooms, 
 Mrs. Ashton began, 
 
 '' I have a few words to say before the busi-
 
 204 Bessie at School. 
 
 ness of the morning commences ; but I would 
 first ask if any one here has a confession to 
 make to me." 
 
 She paused for a few moments, while a dead 
 silence reigned in both rooms. Five of the 
 twenty girls gathered there knew well what 
 she meant, but not a voice broke the stillness ; 
 while those who were ignorant looked from 
 one to another in great astonishment. 
 
 Mrs. Ashton went on. 
 
 " Yesterday morning the clock, which usual- 
 ly stands upon that mantel-piece, was in good 
 order. I wound and set it with my own 
 hands ; but at noon it was found to have 
 stopped, thereby, as all of the older class are 
 aware, misleading Monsieur Gaufrau, and mak 
 ing him late for his lesson. The clock had 
 been wrong once before, and not wishing it 
 should be so again, I took it to the clock- 
 maker. He examined it before I left the store, 
 and said at once that it had been seriously 
 injured, so seriously that it was doubtful if it 
 could be repaired ; and that these injuries had
 
 The Confession. 205 
 
 come from a fall or heavy blow, he thought 
 the former ; and that it was quite impossible 
 that the hands, which had stopped at ten 
 minutes past twelve, could have moved after 
 the works had been so shattered. I must 
 therefore believe that the injury was received 
 at that time ; and that as some, if not all of 
 you, were in the room, that there are those 
 among you who know of it. Most of the little 
 ones had gone home ; I think all but Maggie 
 and Bessie Bradford. Maggie was at her 
 music-lesson ; Bessie could not have reached 
 the clock, and I think," she looked kindly 
 at Bessie, "I think if any harm had 
 happened to it through her means, that she 
 would have come at once, and confessed it. 
 Therefore, we may put the little girls out of 
 the question ; but if any one among them 
 knows any thing and chooses to speak, she 
 may do so, though I shall not compel her." 
 
 Bessie drew a long sigh of relief, and so did 
 more than one of the elder girls. 
 
 Poor little child! She had s/> dreaded thai
 
 2o6 Bessie at School. 
 
 Mrs. Ashton would ask her questions to which 
 she felt that she must give a straightforward 
 and plain answer ; or that she would, at least, 
 say something which would oblige her to 
 speak ; and own that she had been in the room, 
 and seen the accident. 
 
 And Bessie was as unwilling as any little 
 girl could be, to draw upon herself the ill-will 
 of her schoolmates. She wanted to be loved 
 by all about her ; and, as you know, was an 
 affectionate, clinging child, accustomed to be 
 petted and treated with all tenderness. So 
 her little heart had been very downcast at the 
 thought of the cold looks and words, and 
 unkind behavior, which she feared would fall 
 to her share if she should feel herself obliged 
 to tell what she knew; and she was very 
 grateful to Mrs. Ashton for sparing her from 
 this. 
 
 The lady paused again to give any one who 
 chose to speak the opportunity to do so ; but 
 all were silent. 
 
 " T shall put the question to each of you in
 
 77/6 1 Confession. . 207 
 
 turn," said Mrs. Ashton, " trusting that none 
 of you are so hardened as to tell a deliberate 
 falsehood, however you may have reconciled 
 your consciences to a deceitful silence. Ella 
 Leroy, did you break the clock, or have you 
 any knowledge of how it was done ? " 
 
 Mrs. Ashton's manner was stern, and her 
 tone severe, as they were apt to be when she 
 was displeased ; and all of the little girls felt 
 thankful that they were not to be questioned. 
 Maggie thought she could not possibly have 
 answered as much as " No ; " and it frightened 
 her even to hear Mrs. Ashton's voice. 
 
 But Ella Leroy answered promptly, 
 
 " No, ma'am." 
 
 " Bertha Stockton, do you ?" 
 
 " No, ma'am." 
 
 " Mary Morton, do you ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am," came, with equal readiness, 
 from Mary's lips. 
 
 Bessie's heart beat fast, and for a moment 
 her eyes fell as though she herself had beeu 
 the guilty one.
 
 208 Bessie at School. 
 
 One or two more answered with truth that 
 they knew nothing of the matter, and then, 
 
 " Fanny Berry ? " said Mrs. Ashton. 
 
 " No, ma'am," answered Fanny, but not as 
 holdly as Mary had done ; for she was not 
 used to open falsehood, and it did not come 
 readily to her. Mrs. Ashton looked steadily 
 at her for a moment ; then passed on to 
 the next. 
 
 " Kate Maynard ? " 
 
 To the astonishment of all, to the anger of 
 some, and to the relief and delight of one little 
 heart, Kate rose slowly, and answered, " Yes, 
 ma'am." 
 
 " You know who did it ? " 
 
 " I did it myself, madam." 
 
 Mrs. Ashton looked grieved, as well as snr- 
 prised. 
 
 " You, Kate ? and yet you kept silence wnen 
 1 asked for confession ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," said Kate, steadily, yet not 
 boldly or defiantly after her usual manner of 
 receiving reproof from her teachers ; "and I
 
 77* Confession. 209 
 
 am afraid I should still hay kept silence, if 
 you had not asked me so directly." 
 
 " I did not look for this from you, Kate," 
 said Mrs. Ashton, slowly. " Heedless as I 
 know you to be, I did not believe you capable 
 of even an acted deceit." 
 
 Kate hung her head in shame, thinking that 
 she not only would have been guilty of this 
 herself, but that she had tried to draw an in- 
 nocent young child into the same sin. But the 
 little one had stood firmly to- the right, refus- 
 ing, in her own simple language, even to " be- 
 have a story." And the trial and temptation 
 had been far greater in her case than in that 
 of her older schoolmates. The last proof of 
 her steadfastness had, happily for her, not been 
 needed ; but Kate knew Avell enough, that 
 neither would that have failed, had it been 
 called for. 
 
 " How did it happen ? " asked Mrs. Ashton. 
 
 "I had the clock in my hands," answered 
 Kate, " and, as I went to put it in its place, it 
 fell from them." 
 
 14
 
 2io Bessie at School. 
 
 " And how came you to have the clook in 
 your hands ? What were you doing with it ? " 
 
 "I wanted to put back the hands." 
 
 " And why, may I ask ? " said Mrs. Ashton, 
 in astonishment. " Did you imagine that T 
 should not find that the clock was wrong ? " 
 
 "I we I," stammered Kate, fearing to 
 betray the others who would not speak for 
 themselves, and yet feeling that she could 
 scarcely avoid doing so ; "I wanted Monsieur 
 Gaufrau to be to think he was too early, so 
 as to gain a little more time before the French 
 lesson." 
 
 " And one acted deceit thus led to another," 
 said Mrs. Ashton. "It is generally the way. 
 Your lessons were not ready then, I take it; 
 and you wished dishonestly, yes, dishonestly, 
 Kate, to gain more time to prepare them." 
 
 " My lessons for Monsieur Gaufrau were 
 ready," said Kate, in a low voice. 
 
 " Then you have not even this poor excited, 
 but were guilty of this foolish deception mere- 
 ly that you might have a few minutes more foi
 
 The Confession. 211 
 
 play and idle talk. You will remain and see 
 me after school. Had any of the others any 
 part in it ? " 
 
 " Excuse me, madam," said Kate. " I have 
 answered for myself. Allow the rest to do 
 the same." 
 
 Bessie could hardly keep still. Pity for 
 Kate, for going to Mrs. Ashton after schoo! 
 seemed a very terrible thing to the little chil 
 dren, who were all rather in awe of the lady's 
 grave, somewhat stern manner, indignation 
 at those who were allowing more than her OWP 
 share of blame to fall on her, and the strong 
 desire to come to her relief by telling what 
 she knew, were almost too much for the little 
 girl. But she could not break her promise to 
 say nothing unless she were asked, and so felt 
 obliged to hold her peace. 
 
 Mrs. Ashton passed on to the next. 
 
 " Julia Grafton, had you any hand in this ? " 
 
 " I knew of it, ma'am ; but I had nothing 
 more than that to do with it." 
 
 " Julia forgets," said Kate, quickly. ' She
 
 212 Bessie at School. 
 
 tried to dissuade me from it, but I would not 
 listen. She was not at all to blame, Mrs. 
 Ashtou." 
 
 Fanny could keep silence no longer ; her 
 better feelings mastered her shame and fear, 
 and rising, she stammered out, "I I Mrs. 
 Ashton it was me my lesson I was not 
 ready it was my fault I suggested " and 
 here Fanny's voice was lost amid tears and 
 sobs. 
 
 Bessie began to cry too: Maggie put her 
 arms about her and joined in, and Belle and 
 Lily each put up a grieved lip in sympathy. 
 Miss Ashton, seeing the disturbed state of her 
 little flock, rose hastily, and after whispering 
 to her mother, closed the doors ; and no more 
 was heard of what passed in the other room. 
 
 Miss Ashton had wished from the first, that 
 the elder girls should be examined without 
 the knowledge of the little ones, but her mother 
 had decided otherwise ; and the great Teacher 
 above had overruled her wish for His own pur- 
 poses, for He had a little instrument of His
 
 The Confession. 213 
 
 own unconsciously working for Him, and lead- 
 ing a wavering heart into the ways of truth 
 by the light of her own steady example. 
 
 But Miss Ashton, knowing nothing of this, 
 was sorry that her lambs had heard so much ; 
 especially when she found that their mindg 
 were quite distracted, and that it was almost 
 impossible to settle them to the business of 
 the day. She had to overlook a good many 
 things that morning. 
 
 She was all the more sorry when, as Mag- 
 gie and Bessie were going downstairs with 
 Jane, on their way home, she heard the former 
 say, " Bessie, I'm not going to say any thing 
 unkind about Mrs. Ashton ; but when I say 
 my prayers to-night, I'm just going to tell ' our 
 Father ' how very thankful I am that He did 
 not give her to me for my teacher. I'm very 
 sure she'd bring down my hair with sorrow to 
 the grave, if she was."
 
 X. 
 
 A LITTLE LIGHT. 
 
 1 ESSIE would have liked to have had a 
 word or two with Kate during recess, 
 but when she peeped into the other 
 room, she saw all the rest of the girls gath- 
 ered around her ; and not caring to talk, or to 
 be talked to by them, she ran away again with- 
 out being noticed, and followed her sister 
 down to the music-room. 
 
 The girls of the older class were all in a 
 state of great excitement over the trouble of 
 the morning. Some were anxious, some pity- 
 ing, some saying that Mrs. Ashton was mak- 
 ing a great fuss about a trifle. Fanny Berry, 
 who had been weeping and sobbing at inter- 
 vals through all the lesson-hours, was now 
 drowned in a fresh flood of tears, and bewail- 
 ing her hard fate in having to go to Mrs. Ash- 
 ton " for a lecture " after school.
 
 A Little Light. 215 
 
 *' AJ d I suppose she'll complain to my far 
 ther, t</o," she moaned. " She has been say- 
 ing she would do so the next time any of the 
 masters reported me ; and now she'll tell him 
 this, the hateful old thing ! and he won't 
 let me go to the birthday-party at my aunt's. 
 Oh, Kate ! why did you tell ? You promised 
 you would not ; you promised ! Of course, I 
 could not let Mrs. Ashton go on giving you 
 more than your own share of blame, and so I 
 was forced to speak. It's just as Mary said it 
 would be if any one told their own part. It 
 must needs bring the rest into trouble ; and 
 after we two had denied it too ! You ought to 
 have stood by us." 
 
 " Were you in it too, Mary ? " asked Ella 
 Leroy ; and she, as well as most of the others, 
 looked at Mary in shocked surprise. To some 
 of them, it was no very great matter that the 
 four who had had any share in the accident to 
 the clock should shrink from confessing it, or 
 even keep silence when Mrs. Ashton had 
 asked who had done it ; but a deliberate denial
 
 216 Bessie at School. 
 
 of their guilt was quite anotl icr thing. They 
 deservedly blamed Fanny fcr her first false- 
 hood ; but they had the feeling that she had 
 half redeemed her sin when she had, at the 
 risk of such shame and mortification to her- 
 self, acknowledged that, and her former fault, 
 rather than allow Kate to receive a more se- 
 vere reproof than she merited. But Mary, 
 who it seemed had been as much to blame as 
 the others, had not even then been shamed 
 into telling the truth, and had still let Mrs. 
 Ashton believe her innocent. 
 
 She was heartily ashamed of it now ; but she 
 did not choose to let that be seen, and carried 
 matters with a high hand, tossing her head, 
 and declaring that she was " not going to be 
 such a fool as to get herself into difficulty just 
 because Kate and Fanny chose to do it." She 
 reproached Kate bitterly for breaking her 
 promise, and so did Fanny ; both saying that 
 all would have been well if she had not dono 
 
 BO. 
 
 " 1 am sorry," said Kate, taking their up
 
 A Little Light. 217 
 
 braidings with a meekness quite unusual in 
 her. " I am very sorry for the punishment I 
 have brought upon you, girls ; but not sorry 
 (hat I did not tell a lie." 
 
 " You should have thought of that before," 
 said Mary, " and not let Fanny and me tell 
 what you so elegantly call a lie, and then set 
 yourself up for being so truthful.'' 
 
 " I do not set myself up for being truthful," 
 said Kate, coloring deeply ; " at least I have 
 not, but with God's help, I will from this day," 
 and she looked steadily into Mary's angry face. 
 " I wish, oh, how I wish ! I had spoken when 
 Mrs. Ashton asked the general question of the 
 whole class, or that she had asked me first, 
 and even to the moment when she called my 
 name, I meant to deny it ; but I could not 
 with Bessie Bradford's eyes upon me." 
 
 " Bessie Bradford ! little Bessie ! and what 
 had she to do with it ? " asked two or three of 
 the girls. 
 
 ' " She had this much to do with it," said 
 Kate, " that she was in the room yesterday
 
 218 Bessie at School. 
 
 when the clock was broken, and when we re 
 solved to hide it, we tried to make her as 
 deceitful as ourselves ; but we tempted, threat- 
 ened, and promised in vain. She was not to 
 be frightened into wrong for fear of the conse- 
 quences of doing right ; and as Julia said, she, 
 baby as she is, shamed us all. Yes, shamed 
 me at least, and made me feel what a mean 
 coward I was beside her." 
 
 " You are a coward, to be sure, if you are 
 afraid of Bessie Bradford, or what she could 
 do or say," said Mary, pretending to misun- 
 derstand Kate. 
 
 " I was not afraid of any thing she would say 
 or do" said Kate, not noticing the contempt- 
 uous tone ; " but of what she would think of 
 me, of losing her affection and respect. But," 
 - she went on more slowly as if half ashamed, 
 yet determined to speak out, " that was not 
 all I was afraid of." 
 
 " What else then ? " asked Mary. 
 
 " Of offending Bessie's Master," said Kate. 
 
 She felt it was a bold avowal to make in the
 
 A Little Light. 219 
 
 presence of all her classmates, for her who 
 had always been so reckless and careless, 
 sometimes even irreverent; but she said it, 
 and that with a gravity which showed she 
 meant it, and that it was no light feeling 
 which had called it forth. 
 
 It was received in astonished silence by the 
 rest. Words like these were so new from 
 Kate, and there was no need for any one of 
 them to ask what Master Bessie served. The 
 daily life of the little child showed to all about 
 her whose work she delighted to do in her own 
 simple way, which knew no other rule than 
 what would be pleasing and true to Him. 
 
 " But, Kate," said Ella, presently, " you 
 don't mean that you call Him your Mas- 
 ter?" 
 
 " No," said Kate : " I pretend to nothing of 
 the sort, and you know it ; but when I saw 
 Bessie waiting for my answer, and knew of 
 what and of whom she was thinking, I could 
 not help feeling that another ear was listening 
 and waiting too; and so I dared not.
 
 22O Bessie at School. 
 
 There ! " and Kate drew up her head defiantly. 
 " You may laugh at me, you may sneer at me, 
 you may call this humbug ; but it is what 1 
 felt, and why I answered as I did, and I am 
 not ashamed to own it. I tell you, because 
 you feel, some of you, that I have meanly 
 broken my promise. It was a mean thing to 
 make it : it would have been meaner to keep 
 it than it was to break it ; and it was better 
 to be false to that promise than false to my 
 own conscience and to God. But I never 
 meant to betray any one but myself; and, 
 Fanny, I am only too sorry if you are worse 
 punished for what I have done ;" and she 
 held out her hand to her schoolmate. 
 
 Fanny was vexed as well as distressed, but 
 she could not resist Kate's frankness ; and she 
 laid l.er hand in hers, saying, " I suppose I 
 ought not to complain : it was my fault in the 
 first place." 
 
 Not one of the girls had laughed, not one 
 had sneered ; not one but had been more or 
 less touched by Kate's unusual earnestness,
 
 A Little Light, 221 
 
 and the way in which she had set herself to 
 atone for her past fault. 
 
 " Kate would think we were all perfect, if 
 we took Bessie Bradford for our pattern," said 
 one, half jokingly, but not unkindly. 
 
 "Not exactly," said Kate, smiling; "but I 
 believe if we took Bessie's standard of right 
 and wrong, and tried to follow it as truly as 
 she does, we should not go far out of the way. 
 I would not be ashamed to have it said that I 
 had profited by such an example. If her 
 light is a little one, it burns very clearly." 
 
 " But if Bessie had been guilty herself, do 
 you believe it would have been so impossible 
 to tempt her ? " said Fanny. " If she had 
 expected to be punished, would she have been 
 so ready to confess ? " 
 
 " Have you forgotten the japonica ? " asked 
 Kate. " I thought of that too." 
 
 " What japonica ? " said Fanny. 
 
 "Oh, true ! you were not at school that 
 day," answered Kate, laughing at the recollec 
 tion. " I will tell you."
 
 222 Bessie at School. 
 
 Now this was the story, and as I know more 
 about it than Kate, I will tell you myself, in- 
 stead of giving- it in her words ; and to do 
 this, I must go some way back. 
 
 Miss Ashton was in the habit of giving a 
 few moments of recreation during the morn- 
 ing to her four younger scholars. Sometimes, 
 if the day were pleasant, she let them run on 
 the piazza or in the old garden ; and when 
 she did this, she used to ring for Marcia, the 
 colored servant-girl, to come and help the chil- 
 dren put on their wrappings. Bessie did not 
 like this girl, she could not tell exactly why ; 
 but she had, as yet, never allowed this dislike 
 to make her rude or unkind to Marcia. 
 
 But one day when she was down in the 
 music-room with Maggie and Miss Ashton, 
 she saw Marcia do something which she thought 
 gave her good reason for her dislike. The 
 cook had set a dish of stewed pears on the 
 edge of the piazza to cool ; and Bessie saw 
 Marcia steal out from the kitchen, and take 
 three of the pears, swallowing them, one after
 
 A Little Light. 223 
 
 the other, as fast as possible, and then run 
 away. She told Maggie of this, but they 
 agreed they would not " tell tales about it " to 
 any one else. 
 
 From that time, Bessie would never suffer 
 Marcia to do any thing for her. She would 
 rather stay in the house than allow the girl to 
 put on her cloak or shoes ; rather go thirsty 
 than take a glass of water from her hand. 
 
 One morning, about a week before the affair 
 of the clock, Harry said at breakfast, " Papa, 
 the police caught a lot of burglars round in 
 the next street last night." 
 
 " What are burglars ? " asked Maggie. 
 
 '* Thieves and robbers, who go about break- 
 ing into people's houses, and taking what does 
 not belong to them," said Harry. 
 
 " And did they come into the next street to 
 ours ? " asked timid Maggie, with wide-open 
 eyes. 
 
 "Yes; but you needn't be afraid. They 
 wouldn't take you any way, and they 'mosl 
 always get found out, and taken to prison,"
 
 224 Bessie at School. 
 
 said Harry, thinking more of comforting 
 Maggie than of sticking closely to facts. 
 
 " We know a burglar that hasn't been 
 found out, and taken to prison : don't we, 
 Maggie ? " said Bessie, gravely. " She burgles 
 very badly too, and when she has done, she 
 licks her fingers." 
 
 The boys shouted, and the grown people 
 could not help laughing too. 
 
 " Don't be vexed, little daughter," said 
 papa, as he saw the cloud of displeasure over- 
 shadow Bessie's face. " Come and sit here 
 on my knee, and tell us what your burglar 
 did." 
 
 " She's not mine at all, papa ; and I am 
 glad she is not, for I don't like her, and she 
 is wicked too. Mrs. Ashton thinks she is 
 pretty good, but she went and burgled three 
 pears out of the dish, and eat them right up.'* 
 
 The boys were more amused than ever, and 
 kept up their laughter till their father told 
 them the joke had lasted long enough ; but ho 
 had so much difficulty in keeping his own face
 
 A Little Light. 225 
 
 straight as he thought of Bessie's indignant 
 tone and look, and of the way in which she 
 had used the word, that he did not try to ex- 
 plain its proper meaning to her just then ; 
 and smiling, he kissed her, and said gently, 
 " If she goes on doing such things, Bessie, 
 she will be found out in time, and punished 
 too, though she may not be taken to prison." 
 
 When the little girls went to school, the) 
 found Mrs. Ashton in the cloak-room, tending 
 a stand of plants which she had just placed in 
 the window. 
 
 " I hope none of you will hurt my plants," 
 she said. " They need the sun, and this is 
 the best place for them, so I shall trust that 
 you will be careful and not touch them. 
 There, I shall put this bench here, and none 
 of you must go on the other side of it. I 
 would not have them broken for a great deal, 
 especially this white japonica." 
 
 The one pure white blossom upon the plant 
 was certainly a beauty, and the children did 
 aot wonder that Mrs. Ashton was choice of it 
 15
 
 226 Bessie at Schooi. 
 
 The day was so mild and lovely that when 
 Miss Ashton sent the little ones out for their 
 fifteen minutes' play, she told them that they 
 1 ad all better put their things on, and run out 
 in the fresh air ; and, as usual on such occa- 
 sions, she rang for Marcia to come and help 
 them. 
 
 Bessie would not let the colored girl do 
 any thing for her ; but as she was very anx- 
 ious to go in the garden with her playmates, 
 she tried her best to put on her own things. 
 With Belle's help, she contrived to put on her 
 hat and cloak ; but, even with the aid of the 
 other two, it was found next to impossible to 
 manage those troublesome leggins with all 
 their numberless buttons ; and it took so 
 long that, 'at last, Miss Ashton, hearing 
 their voices, came to tell them that they 
 were losing too "much time, and must go 
 down at once. 
 
 She found Bessie sitting on the bench 
 which stood before the flowers, and the ether 
 three little girls all tugging and pulling away
 
 A Little Light. 227 
 
 at one leggin, while Marcia stood leaning 
 against the door, and laughing. 
 
 " Bessie," said the lady, " why do you not 
 let Marcia do that for you ? I want you to 
 go down right away." 
 
 " I don't want Marcia to do it," answered 
 Bessie. 
 
 "You must let her, or else stay in the 
 house," said Miss Ashton. " I cannot have 
 the others kept from their play to help 
 you." 
 
 " We like to help her," said Belle. 
 
 " You must go out at once, Bessie. Will 
 you let Marcia help you, or no ? " 
 
 " No," said Bessie, with a pout ; for she was 
 not in a good humor that morning, and she 
 felt as if her dislike to Marcia were very 
 strong. " She shan't touch me, and I'd 
 rather stay in the house." 
 
 " Very well," said Miss Ashton : " I am 
 sorry you are so naughty, but the rest must 
 go." 
 
 She sent the others away, and Marcia affcei
 
 228 Bessie at School. 
 
 them, and went back to her room, leaving 
 Bessie alone. The little girl sat still for two 
 or three moments, feeling very angry, and 
 swelling with pride and impatience ; thinking 
 that Miss Ashton was very unkind, and Mar- 
 eia, oh, so wicked ! And that she wished she 
 nad never come to school, even for Maggie's 
 sake. 
 
 Presently she saw the colored girl's head 
 peeping round the door at her. Marcia was 
 good-natured, if she was not very trustworthy ; 
 and she felt sorry when she thought of Bes- 
 sie sitting there all alone, and so she had 
 come back to see if the little lady would not 
 be glad of her help after all. 
 
 " Go away," said Bessie, angrily. 
 
 " Don't little miss want Marcia put 'em on 
 now ? " said Marcia. 
 
 " No, I don't : go away," said Bessie ; and 
 as she spoke, she raised one of her leggins 
 which she held in her hand, as though she 
 would have thrown it at Marcia. The girl 
 laughed and disappeared, leaving Bessie fieel
 
 A Little Light. 229 
 
 ing, the next instant, very much ashamed ; 
 and then a very sad thing happened. 
 
 The leggin had caught on something be- 
 hind her, and she turned her head to see what 
 held it, giving it at the same time an im- 
 patient little pull. One of the buttons had 
 caught upon the stem of the japonica, and 
 alas ! alas ! as Bessie twitched it away, the 
 white blossom was broken short off, and fell 
 upon the floor. 
 
 Ah ! how frightened the poor child was 
 when she saw what she had done. The flower 
 had fallen behind the window-curtain, where it 
 might have lain for a long time without being 
 noticed; and, with all the people who were 
 going and coming in this room, it might easily 
 have seemed that it had been broken without 
 the knowledge of the person who did it. But 
 no thought of concealment entered Bessie's 
 little heart ; and after one moment's pause of 
 astonishment and alarm, she picked up the 
 broken flower, and ran with it to Mrs. Ash* 
 ton's room.
 
 230 Bessie at School. 
 
 The lady was just preparing to hear a reci- 
 tation, when a fumbling was heard at the lock, 
 as though a small hand were trying to turn 
 it ; then the door opened, and Bessie appeared, 
 One hand was held behind her ; and she stood 
 looking up at Mrs. Ashton, with her color 
 coming and going. 
 
 " Well, Bessie, what is it ? " asked Mrs. 
 Ashton. 
 
 " Ma'am," said Bessie, and then she stopped, 
 and drew a long breath. 
 
 " Have you any message ? " asked Mrs. 
 Ashton, who was near-sighted, and did not 
 notice the expression of the child's face. 
 
 " No, ma'am," said Bessie ; " but " 
 
 "Then run away. Why do you interrupt 
 us now ? " 
 
 " Because I have to make trouble for you, 
 ma'am," said the poor little thing. 
 
 " That is just what I do not wish you to do. 
 If you have any thing to say, you may tell me 
 by and by." 
 
 "I'll have to tell you now, or you might
 
 A Little Light. 231 
 
 think somebody else did it," said Bessie ; and 
 as she spoke, she drew her hand from behind 
 her, and showed the broken flower. " I'm 
 very sorry, ma'am, but I broke your flower." 
 
 Mrs. Ashton's pale face flushed angrily, then 
 grew calm again. 
 
 " How did that happen, Bessie ? Did I not 
 tell you not to touch the flowers ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," answered the child, the 
 tears beginning to run slowly down her 
 cheeks ; " and I didn't mean to touch them, 
 and I didn't go on the other side of the bench. 
 It was with my leggin, I don't quite know 
 how ; but it was 'cause I was naughty. I was 
 mad with Marcia, and was going to throw my 
 leggin at her; and somehow it knocked the 
 flower and broke it. But I know I did it ; and 
 I thought I ought to tell you very quick, or 
 you might think it was Marcia, or some one 
 else." 
 
 " I am glad you are so honest, Bessie," said 
 Mrs. Ashton. "Put the flower down, and I 
 will talk to you about it by and by."
 
 232 Bessie at School. 
 
 Bessie laid the japonica on the table, aiid 
 turned to go, then turned back again. 
 
 " Ma'am," she said, " if you are going to 
 scold me, would you have objections to do it 
 now ? I guess the young ladies would just as 
 lief wait, and I don't like to think about it so 
 long." 
 
 The young ladies had all been listening to 
 the child, and feeling great sympathy for her 
 in her trouble ; while they could not help ad- 
 miring her straightforward truthfulness, and 
 generous fear lest another should be blamed 
 for her fault ; but at this speech, every book in 
 the class went up before the owner's face to 
 hide the smiles which could not be repressed. 
 Even the corners of Mrs. Ashton's grave 
 mouth gave way a little. 
 
 " I am not going to scold you, Bessie," she 
 said. " I will never scold any one who truth- 
 fully confesses an accident ; so I shall say no 
 more about the flower. But what makes you 
 so pettish and unkind to Marcia? You do 
 not behave well to her. Has *he done any 
 thing to you ? "
 
 A Little Light. 233 
 
 " No, ma'am, not to me," said Bessie, dry- 
 ing her tears. 
 
 " To Maggie or Belle then ? I know she is 
 mischievous sometimes, and I will not let her 
 annoy you ; but you must not behave so to 
 her." 
 
 " She did not annoy any of us, ma'am. She 
 is very good to us, only I don't let her help 
 me." 
 
 " Why not, if she does not trouble you ? " 
 
 "I can't approve her: she is too wicked," 
 said Bessie. 
 
 " What makes you think so ? " asked the 
 lady, who saw there was something at the bot- 
 tom of all this, and thought it better to settle 
 the difficulty at once. 
 
 " She is a burglar," said Bessie, solemnly. 
 
 " A what ? " exclaimed Mrs. Ashton. 
 
 Now, as we know, our Maggie and Bessie 
 were both fond of a long word ; and as soon as 
 they understood, or thought they understood, 
 the meaning of one, put it in use on every occa- 
 sion. And besides, Bessie thought it sounded
 
 234 Bessie at School. 
 
 better to ears polite, to use the new one sho 
 had beard that morning, than it did to say 
 thief or steal ; so she answered, 
 
 " She is, ma'am. Maybe you don't know it, 
 but she is a burglar. I saw her burgle three 
 pears out of your dish ; and she put her fingers 
 in the dish too, and then licked every one of 
 them?" 
 
 The emphatic tone of disgust in which these 
 last words were uttered, and the expression 
 of the child's face, told that the uncleanli- 
 ness of the trick, as well as its sinfulness, had 
 gone far to horrify her. 
 
 The whole thing look, tone, and words 
 was irresistible. All discipline was at an end ; 
 and Mrs. Ashton herself could not help join- 
 ing in the merry laugh that was raised by the 
 class. 
 
 Bessie would have been angry again ; but 
 the thought of her late passion, its sad conse- 
 quences, and her present repentance, kept her 
 temper in check, and she stood silent. Mrs. 
 Ashton recollected herself, and raised a warn-
 
 A Little Light. 235 
 
 ing finger to the amused line of girls before 
 her, as she saw Bessie's disturbed face ; and 
 drawing the child to her, she kissed the grieved 
 lips, and said kindly, 
 
 " I am sorry Marcia did such a naughty 
 thing, Bessie: but she has not been as well 
 taught g,s some of us ; and we all do wrong 
 sometimes, and need forgiveness from one 
 another as well as from God." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," answered Bessie, meekly , 
 " and I was very naughty to be so angry. 
 Please to 'scuse me, and I'll try not to be 
 cross to Marcia again. And I'm very sorry 
 about your flower." 
 
 " I shall not care about my flower, if it 
 serves to teach you a lesson," said the lady. 
 " That is quite forgiven ; and you need not 
 distress yourself over it. Now you may 
 go." 
 
 Bessie drew Mrs. Ashton's head down to 
 her. 
 
 " And may I go and tell Marcia I am sorry 
 I was so angry with her ? " she whispered.
 
 236 Bessie at School. 
 
 " Certainly," said Mrs. Ashton ; and Bessie 
 went away. 
 
 Mrs. Ashton waited a moment till her class 
 had settled into quiet, and then, taking up the 
 broken flower, she said. 
 
 " I do not regret the time spared from the 
 recitation which this little incident has occu- 
 pied. The loss of my flower has furnished 
 lessons to more than little Bessie ; lessons 
 which we will all do well to lay to heart, 
 and which may prove of far more value than 
 that which we should have learned from our 
 books. I trust they may not be lost." 
 
 So much of all this as had come to her own 
 knowledge Kate told to Fanny, who laughed 
 with the others, but found in the storj' fresh 
 cause to feel ashamed that she had been so far 
 outdone in 'truth and generosity by a little 
 child. 
 
 The dreaded interview with Mrs. Ashton 
 took place after school. Kate and Fanny 
 found her more grieved than angrr, more 
 hurt at their deceit and want of confidence in
 
 A Little Light, 237 
 
 her, than at the injury to her clock. She 
 talked long and seriously to them, not failing 
 to point out the "difference between their con- 
 duct and that of little Bessie ; and she was 
 both touched and gratified, when Kate told, 
 not without tears, of the part they had acted 
 towards the child, and of the influence of the 
 little one's example in fading her to confes- 
 sion and repentance. 
 
 Mrs. Ashton told the girls that she should 
 inflict no farther punishment upon them than 
 an apology to Monsieur Gaufrau, and a con- 
 fession of the deception that had been prac- 
 tised upon him ; and she was still better 
 pleased when Kate tcid her that this had 
 already been done, and that she had, in her 
 own name and Fanny's, begged his pardon 
 before the whole class. 
 
 " For," said she, with many blushes, " as 
 long as I had started on the right track, I 
 thought I would not stop halfway." 
 
 " Then do not stop half way, and do not 
 turn back, my child," said Mrs. Ashton, hold-
 
 238 Bessie at School. 
 
 ing out her hand to the young girl ; " you 
 have farther, much farther to go, Kate, before 
 you reach the goal. Oh ! take heed that your 
 steps turn neither to the right nor to the left 
 from the way of truth and uprightness."
 
 XI. 
 
 ABOUT "OUR FATHER'S" WORK. 
 
 P, up," said the baby, " up, up." 
 
 Baby sat upon the hearth-rug in 
 her mother's room, with her play- 
 things about her ; and Maggie sat beside her, 
 writing away upon her slate. 
 
 If you had asked Maggie what she was 
 doing, she would probably have said, " Taking 
 care of Baby ; " for that was what her mother 
 had asked her to do, and what she really be- 
 lieved herself to be doing. But perhaps Baby 
 would have given a different opinion. 
 
 " Up, up, wee, wee," said the little one 
 again, pulling away at Maggie's skirt. 
 
 " Yes, darling, by and by. Oh ! see, see 
 Baby's pretty dolly ! " and putting the doll in 
 her little sister's lap, Maggie turned again to
 
 240 Bessie at School. 
 
 her slate. Baby took dolly by the heels, and 
 thumped her head upon the floor, it was 
 well dolly was not subject to headaches ; 
 then she scolded her, then kissed her, and 
 sung and petted her to sleep, then put the 
 doll's cool china head in her own heated little 
 mouth ; and, at last, tiring of all these, threw 
 her down, and took hold of Maggie again with 
 that pitiful, beseeching, " Up, up." 
 
 " Now, Maggie dear, just put by your writ- 
 ing, and take Baby up, and tell her ' the little 
 pig that went to market,' " said nurse. " She's 
 fretful with her teeth, and they hurt her so 
 this morning. Yes, my pet : your mammy 
 will take ye, and tell ye pigs without end, as 
 soon as she gets this naughty boy dressed." 
 
 The naughty boy was Frankie, who had un- 
 dertaken to give Baby's woolly lamb a shower- 
 bath, and not being able to reach the faucet, 
 had climbed into the bath-tub, where he had 
 turned it to such purpose as to shower, not 
 only the lamb, but himself from head to foot. 
 Frankie was too well used to the conse-
 
 About w our Father's " Work. 241 
 
 quences of such pranks, to mind them very 
 much ; but, as usual, he had chosen a time 
 when it was not very convenient to attend 
 to him. 
 
 This was Saturday morning. Jane was 
 sweeping the nursery, nurse sorting the clean 
 clothes, Mrs. Bradford petting her fretful 
 baby, and Maggie very busy over that prize 
 composition ; while Bessie was in her own 
 room, dressing the dolls, and putting the baby- 
 house in order; for Belle Powers and Lily 
 Norris were coming to spend the day, and all 
 must be ready for them. So every one was 
 very busy, and that, of course, must be the 
 time for Frankie to get into mischief. 
 
 Then, just as nurse began to take off his 
 wet clothes, a lady came to see Mrs. Bradford 
 on business, and she had to go downstairs : 
 BO, putting Baby down on the rug, mamma 
 told Maggie to amuse her till she came back. 
 But Maggie, having brought some toys for her 
 little sister, thought she had done enough, 
 and went on with her writing. 
 
 16
 
 242 Bessie at School. 
 
 But Baby was not in a mood to amuse hor 
 self. She wanted to be taken up, and told 
 that wonderful story about the well-known 
 family of little pigs, which mamma had been 
 telling upon her tiny fingers when she was 
 called away. 
 
 And Maggie ? 
 
 Maggie was trying to make two things 
 agree, her duty and her inclination. Some- 
 times these go very well together ; but on this 
 occasion they did not. Maggie strove to per- 
 suade herself that the last was the first ; but 
 neither Baby, nurse, nor her conscience, would 
 let her deceive herself so, and she did not feel 
 well pleased with either of the three monitors. 
 
 " I'll take her when I've finished this idea," 
 said Maggie. " There, Baby, play with the 
 pretty blocks." 
 
 " Bad bocky," said Baby, striking out with 
 her little foot at the pile of blocks before her. 
 Just then Bessie peeped around the door ; and 
 seeing that the baby was restless and dis- 
 contented, and nurse busy, she came to do
 
 About " our Father's " Work. 243 
 
 what she could fbr her little sister's amuse 
 ment. 
 
 " Bessie make her nice house," she said, 
 thinking that was what the child wanted ; and 
 she began piling the blocks on one another in 
 a tower, which Baby was to have the pleasure 
 of knocking down when it should be finished, 
 talking to her the while in a coaxing, chirrup- 
 ing voice. 
 
 Baby put three fingers into her mouth, and 
 sat watching Bessie for a few moments, when 
 suddenly bethinking herself once more of the 
 adventures of those famous pigs, and of the 
 coveted seat upon Maggie's lap, she dashed 
 over the half-built tower, and turning again 
 towards Maggie, fretted, " Up, up, wee, up." 
 
 Bessie, willing to save Maggie from inter- 
 ruption, took the small hand in her ow i, and 
 began the oft-repeated tale ; but neitl )r did 
 this answer. Baby, like many older peple 
 when they are sick, aye, and when thoy are 
 well too, was not to be satisfied with any thing 
 but that on which she had, for the m jment,
 
 244 Bessie at School. 
 
 set her fancy. Maggie's lap and Maggie's 
 attention were the only thing's that could 
 please her just then, and she could see no 
 reason why she should not have them. 
 
 " Oh, you little bother ! I shan't take you, 
 and you can just let Bessie play with you, 
 now ! " said Maggie : " I am not going to stop 
 my work just for such nonsense. Bessie can 
 tell the pig that ' went to market ' as well as 
 I can ; and she is not busy." 
 
 Baby might not understand the words, but 
 she understood the tone, and knew very well 
 that she was being scolded ; and she put up a 
 pitiful, grieved lip, which would have made 
 Maggie feel sorry if she had seen it. But hei 
 eyes were bent upon her slate, not once turned 
 towards little Annie. 
 
 Bessie looked from one sister to the other, 
 and then said gently, 
 
 " Maggie dear, do you think you are doing 
 the work ' our Father ' has given you to 
 do now ? " 
 
 Maggie colored, and looked more vexed
 
 About w our Father's" Work. 245 
 
 than she had done before, hesitated an instant, 
 and then, as the cloud passed from her face, 
 said, 
 
 " No, Bessie, I am not ; but I just will do 
 it ; " and in another moment Baby was in the 
 long-wished-for place, and that first little pig 
 who went to market travelled there so many 
 times that I think he would have been glad to 
 be the brother who stayed at home. 
 
 Mamma came back just as nurse was 
 through with Frankie, and said, as she took 
 the now contented baby from Maggie, " You 
 are my own dear, obliging little girl. I was 
 sorry to interrupt you, but you see it could 
 not be helped." 
 
 " But I was not obliging or kind at all, 
 mamma," said Maggie ; " at least, not at first. 
 I felt real provoked 'cause I had to take care 
 of Baby, and I believe I would have let her 
 cry if it hadn't been for Bessie, who put me 
 in mind I was giving place to my own work, 
 instead of God's. I s'pose it was God's work 
 to amuse Baby, even if it did not seem half so
 
 246 Bessie at School. 
 
 useful a thing as writing my composition : 
 was it not, mamma ? " 
 
 " Certainly, dear ; and I am glad you saw 
 that?" 
 
 " Oh ! it was not my praise at all, but Bes- 
 sie's, mamma. She is an excellent reminder ; 
 and if I had not her, I expect I should be an 
 awful child." 
 
 " I trust not, dear," said her mother, 
 smiling. 
 
 " But, Maggie dear," said Bessie, as her 
 sister took up her slate once more, " I'm 
 'fraid you have something else to do. I think 
 Marigold is hungry, and has no seed in his 
 cup. You did not feed him this morning, did 
 you?" 
 
 Maggie uttered an exclamation, and clap- 
 ping her hand over her mouth, after the man- 
 ner of little girls on such occasions, turned to 
 meet her mother's half-mournful, half-re- 
 proachful look, and then ran away to her own 
 room, followed by Bessie. 
 
 Poor little Marigold ! It was easy to bo
 
 About " our Fathers " Work. 247 
 
 seen that he was in a sad way about some- 
 thing, and a peep into his cage soon showed 
 the cause. As the children came in, he was 
 making a loud but mournful chirping, as if 
 he wanted to call attention to himself; and 
 when he saw them, he commenced fluttering 
 his wings, and stretching out his neck towards 
 them. 
 
 "Oh, you poor little birdie ! " said Maggie : 
 " did your naughty, ought-to-be-ashamed-of- 
 herself Maggie forget all about you this morn- 
 ing ? Yes, Bessie : his seed-cup is empty, and 
 he has not had fresh water or any thing. And 
 it just came 'cause I was in such a hurry to 
 get to my composition. Oh, dear ! I wonder 
 if I am too anxious about it. You see, Bes- 
 sie, it was this way. When Jane called me to 
 feed him, I was just going to write, and I did 
 not want to come at all, and thought I would 
 wait; but then I remembered how mamma 
 eaid if she let me attend to him, I must prom- 
 ise to attend to him faithfully every morning : 
 so I ran as quick as I could for the seed-box
 
 248 Bessie at School, 
 
 and a lump of sugar (for I saw yesterday his 
 sugar was all gone), and I was in such a 
 hurry that I let the box fall, and spilled all 
 the seed ; and it took me so long to pick it 
 up ; but all the time I was thinking about a 
 very good idea I had, and now I remember I 
 just went and put the box away, and forgot to 
 give Marigold any seed. And there is the 
 lump of sugar lying on the chair, and his 
 water-cup is empty too. Poor little fellow! 
 just see how hungry he is, Bessie ! If his in- 
 .stinct tells him it was I who did it to him, I 
 wonder if he'll forgive me, and love me any 
 more." 
 
 Marigold was certainly very hungry, but he 
 did not seem to feel unforgiving, or to bear 
 any grudge against his repentant little mis- 
 tress ; for, as he picked up seed after seed, 
 and opened them with his sharp beak, he 
 watched the children with his bright, black 
 eyes as lovingly as usual, giving, every now 
 and then, when he could spare the time, a 
 cheerful chirp, which seemed to say, " Thank
 
 About " our Fatness " Work. 249 
 
 you: you have made amends for past neg- 
 lect." 
 
 Maggie and Bessie stood and looked at him 
 till he had made a good breakfast, and fallen 
 to dressing his feathers ; and then ran back 
 to their mother's room, where the former told 
 her how she had come so sadly to forget her 
 duty that morning, a duty which she had, 
 with many pleadings and promises, persuaded 
 mamma to let her undertake, and which she 
 had, till this unlucky day, never neglected. 
 
 " Mamma," she said, " do you think you 
 will have to take away the charge of Marigold 
 from me ? " 
 
 "Not now, Maggie," said Mrs. Bradford. 
 " You have been so faithful to him ever since 
 you had him, that I shall not punish you for 
 this one failure. But it must not happen 
 again, daughter ; for even if I thought it best 
 to overlook such carelessness, it would be 
 cruel and wrong for me to let the bird suffer 
 through your fault." 
 
 " If 1 forget him again, mamma, I am sure
 
 250 Bessie at School. 
 
 I shall be very deserving of having you say 
 Jane must take care of him ; but I think this 
 will keep me in mind. And I see quite well 
 now how being so very anxious about my 
 prize composition could make me careless 
 about God's work. I have been in such a 
 hurry with it this morning, because Gracie 
 has a whole page of hers written, and I did 
 not want her to be so much ahead of me. 
 For, mamma, all the girls think now that one 
 of us two will have the prize. None of the 
 others think they have any chance ; and I be- 
 lieve Miss Ashton thinks we are both too 
 anxious about it, for yesterday Gracie was 
 writing while we were at our arithmetic les- 
 son, and Miss Ashton told her ' one thing at 
 a time ; ' and after school, she said that she 
 was afraid some of the class were thinking 
 too much about their compositions when they 
 should be attending to other things ; and 1 
 knew she meant Gracie and me, least I'm 
 quite sure she meant me. And I would know 
 it by to-day if I had not known it before,"
 
 About "our Father's" Work. 251 
 
 said Maggie, gravely shaking her head as she 
 thought of her shortcomings of the morning. 
 " Now, mamma, what plan do you think T 
 could take to better myself of this ? " 
 
 Mrs. Bradford could hardly help smiling at 
 the air of grave importance with which this 
 was said ; but she saw that Maggie was quite 
 in earnest, and meant what she said about 
 correcting herself. 
 
 " I think, dear," she answered, " that the 
 best way for you is to make sure each day 
 that you have done every thing else you have 
 to do, before you take up your composition. 
 When one duty is more pleasant than another, 
 and one feels that one is apt to give too 
 much place to it, it is better to put that last, 
 and only to take it up when other work is 
 done ; and perhaps, as you have allowed the 
 composition to tempt you into wrong, more 
 than once this morning, it would be well to 
 put it away for to-day. I do not say you must 
 do this ; but do you not think it would help 
 you to be more careful another time ? "
 
 252 Bessie at School. 
 
 " Yes'm," said Maggie, rather ruefully, and 
 with a longing look at the slate ; but presently 
 she took it up, and went cheerfully to put it 
 away. 
 
 " Mamma," said Bessie, " I think Maggie 
 is pretty good about her composition, even if 
 it does make her forget other things some- 
 times. She is not half so jealoused about it 
 as I am. Sometimes when I think about 
 Gracie having the prize, it makes me feel real 
 mad and cross with her. I don't think she 
 will have it ; but then she might, you know ; 
 and I don't think I could bear that for 
 Maggie." 
 
 " But you must try to be willing, dear," 
 said her mother, " and not have that feeling 
 towards Gracie. It does not make you act 
 unkindly to her, does it ? " 
 
 "It did the other day in school, mamma. 
 She had lost her pencil, and she asked me to 
 lend her mine, and 'cause I knew she wanted 
 it for her composition, I spoke very cross, and 
 told her ' No ; ' but then she looked so very
 
 About " our Father's " Work. 253 
 
 surprised at me, that I was sorry and gave ii 
 to her, and we kissed and made up. But. 
 mamma, if one of your little girls did not 
 have a prize, would you not feel pretty mor- 
 tified ? " 
 
 " Not in the least, dear, if I thought my 
 little girls had done as well as they could. If 
 they had been idle, or disobedient, or untruth- 
 ful, and so lost all chance of a prize, then in- 
 deed I should have been mortified and 
 grieved ; but if they had done their best, I 
 should not feel at all troubled because others 
 had done better." 
 
 " And would not papa, mamma ? " 
 
 " No : he will be quite satisfied if he knows 
 that you have tried to do what is right." 
 
 " I'm 'fraid I shouldn't, mamma," said 
 Bessie, drawing a long sigh ; " if Gracie has 
 the composition prize, not one will come to 
 Maggie or me ; and when I think about it, I 
 am quite dis-encouraged." 
 
 " But I do not want you to be discouraged, 
 dearest, any more than I want you to be too
 
 254 Bessie at School. 
 
 eager. How is it that you have no hope of 
 the other prizes for yourself or Maggie ? " 
 
 " I could not have the ' perfect-lesson prize,' 
 mamma, 'cause I do not have so many to say 
 as the others ; and Maggie has not had so 
 many perfect marks as some of the rest." 
 
 " But that prize to be given by the choice 
 of the school, has my Bessie given up all 
 thought of that ? " said Mrs. Bradford. 
 
 " Not the thought of it, mamma ; but I have 
 not a bit of hope of it. I think maybe Belle 
 will have it ; for she has been very good and 
 sweet most all the time. She does not break 
 the rules, and all the little girls and the young 
 ladies like her. She says if it comes to her, 
 she will give it to lame Jemmy, so that will 
 be as good for him as if one of us had it ; but 
 I would have liked to think that Maggie or I 
 had earned it for him." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Bradford, " it would have 
 been very pleasant ; and I should have liked 
 to think that the good behavior and amiability 
 of one of my little daughters had been of such
 
 About w our Father's " Work. 255 
 
 service to Jemmy. But why do you think 
 there is no hope that the prize will come to 
 you, darling ? You have not broken the rules 
 so often, or had any trouble with your play- 
 mates, have you ? " 
 
 " I don't think I have broken the rules, 
 mamma ; but I have been naughty sometimes. 
 I broke Mrs. Ashton's flower, you know, and 
 two or three times I was passionate with the 
 girls ; but I believe they don't think about 
 that now, and some of them say they shall 
 vote for me." 
 
 " 'Most all of them will," said Maggie, who 
 had come back, and now stood listening: 
 " 'most all of our class will, and I think a 
 good many of the young ladies." 
 
 " No, not one," said Bessie, shaking her 
 head decidedly. 
 
 " I don't see how you can be so sure," said 
 Maggie ; " and, Bessie, all the young ladies 
 are very fond of you ; and Miss Julia said you 
 were the best child in the school." 
 
 " They have reasons, Maggie," said Bessie,
 
 250 Eess/ at School. 
 
 gravely ; and then, 'urning to her mother, she 
 added, " Mamma, don't you think it seems 
 strange that God sometimes punishes us for 
 doing right." 
 
 " I do not think He does, dear. God never 
 punishes us for doing His will." 
 
 " No, mamma. I do not quite mean that. I 
 s'pose punish was not just the right word ; but 
 I mean He lets a great disappointment come 
 to us sometimes, 'cause we try to do what we 
 know is right. When I was very young, I 
 used to think He always gave people a reward 
 for doing right ; but now I know better than 
 that." 
 
 " Suppose you tell me your trouble, dear ; 
 and see if I cannot help you to understand it." 
 
 " Yes, mamma," said Bessie, thoughtfully. 
 "I think I might, for you know about the 
 clock from Maggie, and so I shall not be 
 breaking my promise." 
 
 And then she told her mother all about her 
 trial and temptation in the affair of the broken 
 clock.
 
 About "our father's' 1 '' Work. 257 
 
 Mrs. Bradford heard her in silence, only 
 now and then tenderly smoothing her hair, or 
 softly patting the little hand which rested on 
 her knee ; but Maggie went into a state of 
 fidgety indignation, which she could scarcely 
 restrain till the story was finished, when she 
 broke out with, 
 
 " I knew it ! I knew it ! I just knew it ! 
 That day that you were so mournful and 
 mysterious, and wouldn't tell even me what 
 ailed you, I knew those hateful old young 
 ladies had been plaguing you some way ; 
 and I just hope not one of them will have 
 a single prize ! And I'm very much disap- 
 pointed in Miss Kate. I didn't think she'd 
 be so mean, even if she does tease." 
 
 Disappointed ! So was Bessie, more sorely 
 than could be put into words ; and in spite of 
 Kate's continued, even increased kindness to 
 her since that day, she could not get back the 
 old feeling of trust and confidence. And 
 Kate saw it, and grieved over it ; and so, per- 
 17
 
 258 Bessie at School. 
 
 haps, the lesson she had received sank deeper 
 into her heart. 
 
 " Bessie," said Mrs. Bradford, " is there not 
 one reward of which we are always sure, if we 
 do our Father's will ? " 
 
 " Yes, mainma," said the little girl : " you 
 mean, to know He is pleased with us. But it 
 did seem as if He must be pleased, if I could 
 be such a good child in school as to gain the 
 prize that would be such a help to poor Jem- 
 my ; and it did seem as if it was very much 
 His work, and I am very disappointed I could 
 not do it." 
 
 " But sometimes, darling, we mean to serve 
 God in one way, and He sees fit to have us do 
 it in another ; and sometimes we are doing 
 His work and glorifying Him when we do not 
 know it ourselves. Benito did not know he 
 was carrying his pearls in his bosom, until he 
 went into his Father's presence." 
 
 " No," said Bessie, smiling brightly at her 
 mother's allusion to the old, well-loved story, 
 and then looking grave again.
 
 About " our Father's " Work. 259 
 
 Mrs. Bradford saw that she was not quite 
 content, and said : 
 
 " Bessie, can you not feel satisfied to know 
 that you have done more to serve and honor 
 your Father in heaven by refusing to do evil 
 that good might come, and holding firmly to 
 the truth, than you would have done if you had 
 gained fifty prizes for Jemmy ? " 
 
 " Yes, mamma," said Bessie, brightening 
 again ; " and do you think God gave me that 
 to be my work instead of earning the hospital 
 bed ? " 
 
 " I am sure of it, dear ; and sure also that 
 His blessing has followed your effort to keep 
 in the way of truth." 
 
 " And, mamma, do you know I was think- 
 ing, I have to do a good deal of thinking 
 about this, that even if I had promised to 
 tell a story to Mrs. Ashton, and the young 
 ladies had voted me the prize, it would not 
 have been fair, 'cause it was for the best and 
 most truthful child in the school ; and they 
 could not have given it to me for that,
 
 260 Bessie at School. 
 
 but 'cause I had done them a wicked 
 favor." 
 
 " And you would have had no peace or con- 
 tentment in gaining it so, darling, oven if 
 Jemmy had been cured by this means. And, 
 Bessie, I am quite sure no one of your school- 
 mates cares less for you, because you did not 
 suffer them to tempt you into wrong, however 
 vexed they might have been at the time." 
 
 u /care less for them" said Maggie, putting 
 her arms around Bessie's neck ; " and I'm 
 just going to let them see it. I shan't speak 
 to those four girls, or smile at them, but look 
 very offended every time I see them. And 
 I'm going to persuade all the rest of our class 
 to be offended with them too." 
 
 " I do not want you to repeat this, Maggie," 
 said Mrs. Bradford, to whom the story was 
 not new, although the children thought it 
 was. 
 
 "Mustn't I, mamma? " said Maggie, rather 
 crestfallen. " Well, I suppose it would be 
 telling tales ; so I will just ask the other chil-
 
 About M our father's " Work. 261 
 
 dren to be offended with the big girls just to 
 oblige me, and for a good reason that is a 
 secret." 
 
 Mrs. Bradford did not make any reply to 
 this. She did riot wonder that Maggie was 
 shocked and indignant ; but she knew that her 
 resentment was never lasting, and that long 
 before Monday morning, she would have 
 thought better of this resolution. Nor was 
 she wrong ; for having dismissed the children 
 to be dressed before their little friends came, 
 she overheard Maggie say, 
 
 " Bessie, I guess after all I had better not 
 coax our class to be offended with those larger 
 girls : you see, maybe they have begun to 
 repent of their meanness, and it might dis- 
 courage them if they would like ' to turn over 
 a new leaf.' " 
 
 " Yes," said Bessie, " I think so too ; and I 
 meant to ask you not to, Maggie. Let's for- 
 give and forget." 
 
 " I'll forgive, and I'll try to forget," said 
 Maggie ; " but I'm afraid that particular will
 
 202 
 
 Bessie at School. 
 
 be pretty hard work. But I will say that 1 
 hepe perhaps one of them will have a prize 
 after all, and I s'pose that will be a pretty 
 a;ood way of forgiving."
 
 XII. 
 
 BESSIE'S PARTY. 
 
 j|E are going to have a party," said 
 Maggie. 
 
 " Who, your mamma ? " said Nel- 
 lie Ransom. 
 
 " Why, no," said Maggie : " we, Bessie and 
 I. Next Tuesday is Bessie's birthday, when 
 she will be seven years old ; and mamma said 
 we might have a party." 
 
 " Oh, how lovely ! " said Dora Johnson : 
 " and will you invite me, Maggie ? " 
 
 " Well, yes, we will : 'cause mamma said 
 we might have all the class," answered Mag- 
 gie ; " but, Dora, you ought not to ask us to 
 invite you." 
 
 " Why not ? " said Dora. 
 
 " Because it is not polite to ask people to 
 invite you to their houses. We would have to,
 
 264 Bessie at School. 
 
 even if we did not want you, or else hurt your 
 feelings by telling you we would rather not 
 have yon." 
 
 " You need not ask me if you don't want 
 to," said Dora, pouting. "I don't care for 
 going to your old party ! " 
 
 " But we do want you, and you would like 
 to come," said Bessie, good-naturedly ; " for 
 it is going to be very nice, and we are to have 
 a magic-lantern." 
 
 " Oh, how perfectly lovely ! " said Fanny 
 Leroy, clapping her hands. " I never saw a 
 magic-lantern : I'll be sure to come." 
 
 " Now, there's another of you," said Mag- 
 gie, in rather an aggrieved tone. " You ought 
 not to say you'll come, till you're invited. 
 Bessie and I are going to send you an invita 
 tion all written in a note, and you must an- 
 swer it in the same way, and not say you'll 
 come before-time. I'm sorry I told you. if you 
 act this way about it." 
 
 " When did you say it was to be ? " asked 
 Nellie.
 
 Bessie's Purty. 265 
 
 " Next Tuesday," said Maggie : " the first 
 of May. That's Bessie's birthday." 
 
 " And that is the day Miss Ashton's undo 
 is going to give the prizes," said Gracie How- 
 ard. 
 
 " Why, so it is ! " said Lily Norris. " What 
 a very 'markable day it will be for us ! " 
 
 Here the bell rang, and the young voices 
 were all hushed. But after school was opened, 
 the children found that one of the expected 
 " remarkable " events would not, after all, 
 take place on the first day of May. 
 
 " Children," said Miss Ashton, " a letter 
 came from my uncle this morning, saying that 
 he had been called out of town on very impor- 
 tant business, and so could not be here on 
 Tuesday, to present the prizes. But on the 
 following Thursday he hopes to be at home, 
 and wishes to have all the compositions hand- 
 ed to him on the evening of that day, so that 
 he may read them before Friday, when he will 
 be here. We shall have no regular school on 
 that day, but a little examination will take the
 
 266 Bessie at School. 
 
 place of the usual lessons ; and you may tell 
 such of your friends as would like to come, 
 that we will be happy to see them." 
 
 So the giving of the prizes was to be made 
 quite a little affair. Some of the children were 
 pleased, and some were not ; timid Maggie, 
 and one or two more who were afflicted with 
 that troublesome shyness, being among the 
 latter number. 
 
 But going to school had really proved of 
 service to Maggie in conquering her extreme 
 bashfulness, as her friends had hoped ; and 
 though her color might still come and go, and 
 her voice shake somewhat if a stranger spoke 
 to her, she could now hold up her head, and 
 answer as became a well-bred and polite little 
 lady. Nor did she longer let it stand in the 
 way of offering to do a kind thing for other 
 people if she had the opportunity ; but when 
 that came to her, tried to forget herself, 
 and to think only of the help she might 
 be. For having the will to cure herself, 
 Maggie had succeeded in her efforts, and
 
 Bessie's Party. 267 
 
 her improvement in this respect was much 
 to her credit. 
 
 As for Bessie, she cared little, except fof 
 Maggie's sake, whether there were half a doz- 
 en or fifty people present, besides those she 
 called her " own." She was neither a shy 
 nor a bold child; nor was she vain. But 
 when she had a thing to do, she did it with a 
 straightforward simplicity, and a dignified, 
 ladylike little manner, which were both amus- 
 ing and attractive. If she knew the answer to 
 a question, and that it was right for her to 
 give it, she could do so almost as readily be- 
 fore a room full of people, as before one or 
 two ; and this was because she did not think. 
 of herself, or what people were thinking of her, 
 but only if the thing were right, and of the 
 proper way to do it. 
 
 Now I would by no means be understood to 
 say that those little people who are not trou- 
 bled with timidity themselves, should blame 
 or think hardly of those who suffer from it. 
 It is a part of some natures, not of others ;
 
 268 Bessie at School. 
 
 and those who are free from it, should do all 
 they can to help and encourage those who are 
 not so. But certain it is, that we can do much 
 ourselves towards conquering this troublesome 
 " little fox ; " and if my young readers could 
 only know how much more happy as well as 
 useful they may be when free from his vexa- 
 tious attacks, I am sure they would do all they 
 could to bury him out of sight and hearing. 
 
 For herself, Bessie had, as we know, no 
 thought of a prize. From the older girls, in- 
 fluenced by Kate Maynard, she would not, she 
 believed, receive a single vote. Kate had 
 never withdrawn that threat; indeed, she had 
 almost forgotten she had ever made it, and it 
 never occurred to her that Bessie still expected 
 her to act upon it. The little girls were divid- 
 ed, each one having her own favorite, whom 
 she thought the most deserving, and for whom 
 she intended to vote ; and Bessie imagined 
 that the only hope of the hospital bed for lame 
 Jemmy lay with Belle Powers. For Belle 
 was now so much interested in all that con-
 
 Bessie's Party. 269 
 
 cerned Maggie and Bessie, that she was almost 
 as anxious as they were to gain it for him ; 
 and she had been to Riverside with her young 
 friends, and seen the lame boy, so that she 
 took an interest in him on his own account 
 also. 
 
 Lily Norris, too, had promised that if this 
 prize came to her, she would give it to Jemmy ; 
 but there was small chance of that. Lily was 
 a roguish, mischievous little thing, and a great 
 chatterbox ; and it would not do to tell how 
 often she had broken the rules by talking and 
 laughing aloud at forbidden times, throwing 
 paper-balls, making faces, and so forth. No, 
 no, -Lily would never have the prize for being 
 the best child in the school. 
 
 But in spite of her half-jealousy of Gracie 
 Howard, and her acknowledgment to her 
 mother that she might possibly earn the com- 
 position prize, Bessie had little doubt in her 
 own mind that it would fall to Maggie, and 
 thought it rather unreasonable in any one to 
 expect to carry it away from her. Her own
 
 270 Bessie at School. 
 
 Maggie who " made up " such delightful sto 
 ries and plays, and who had written the " Com- 
 plete Family," that wonderful book for which 
 Uncle Ruthven had paid such a price, could 
 scarcely fail to be the successful one here ; 
 and Bessie had little fear on that score. But 
 she knew that Maggie's pleasure would be for 
 the moment half destroyed if she were obliged 
 to receive the prize in the presence of stran- 
 gers ; and she turned to her sister with a 
 sympathizing glance, which was met with a 
 look of the utmost dismay from Maggie. 
 
 But there was one young heart there which 
 was troubled with no such painful misgivings 
 as poor Maggie's. A vain and ambitious little 
 heart it was, and rather gloried in the oppor- 
 tunity of displaying its expected triumphs 
 before a number of admiring eyes. 
 
 Gracie Howard was a very clever child, and 
 none knew this better than herself. It had 
 been often said in her hearing, not by her 
 father and mother, for they were too wise to 
 do such a thing ; but by foolish people who
 
 BessiJs J^arty. 271 
 
 imagined they would please her parents by 
 saying so, and had no thought of the harm 
 they might be doing the child. But Mr. 
 and Mrs. Howard would have been far better 
 satisfied to have their little daughter only half 
 as clever, and to see her modest, humble, and 
 free from the vanity which was spoiling all 
 the finer traits of her character. Not that 
 Gracie was a bad child by any means ; on the 
 contrary, she was in many respects a very 
 sweet little girl. But, ah ! that ugly weed of 
 self-conceit! how many fair plants and pre- 
 cious seeds it chokes up and keeps out of 
 sight ! 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Howard had hoped that by 
 sending her to school where she would be 
 thrown with other children, this" fault of 
 Gracie's might be checked. But it had only 
 grown upon her, as they saw with sorrow. 
 
 Miss Ashto had a bright set of little girls 
 in her class, but Gracie was certainly the 
 brightest and quickest among them ; and she 
 very soon became aware of this. She had had
 
 272 Bessie at School. 
 
 more perfect lessons than any one of the oth- 
 ers, that they all knew ; and Gracie herself 
 had not the least doubt that she would also 
 have the best composition, and so gain both 
 these prizes. She was not at all disturbed by 
 the fact that all the other children, with whom 
 gentle and modest Maggie was much more of 
 a favorite than Gracie, declared their belie' 
 and hope that the former would be successful. 
 She took it all good-naturedly, too well pleased 
 with herself and her own performances to be 
 vexed at any thing they could say ; and only 
 answering, with a self-satisfied shake of the 
 head, that they would " see who was the smart- 
 est when the day came." 
 
 She was really fond of Maggie Bradford, and 
 felt sorry for the disappointment she thought 
 was in store for her; and would have been 
 glad if two composition prizes had been offered, 
 BO that her little companion might have one, 
 provided that the first came to herself. Her fa- 
 ther and mother would have been better pleased 
 that she should have had none, and so learned
 
 Bessie's Party. 273 
 
 that others could do as well and better than 
 herself. 
 
 The class had a good deal to talk about that 
 day, as soon as school was over. The arrange- 
 ments for the prize-day and Bessie's party 
 occasioned a good deal of chattering. They 
 were all welcome to talk of the latter as much 
 as they pleased, and to say how delightful it 
 would be, and how much they expected to en- 
 joy themselves ; only on no account was any 
 one to say she was coming before she received 
 her written invitation, and answered it in form. 
 Maggie was very particular on that point. 
 
 The invitations were all sent and accepted 
 in the most ceremonious manner, and quite to 
 Maggie's satisfaction, on the following day, 
 which was Saturday. 
 
 Even Belle Powers, who came to spend the 
 day with Maggie and Bessie, received her note 
 the moment she entered the house, and was 
 requested to answer it before they began to 
 play, which she did on a sheet of Bessie's 
 stamped paper. To be sure, a slight difficulty 
 18
 
 274 Bessie at School. 
 
 arose from the fact that the initials B. R. B. 
 did not stand well for Belle Powers ; but that 
 was speedily remedied by Maggie, who, with 
 her usual readiness for overcoming such obsta- 
 cles, suggested that they might for once be 
 supposed to stand for " Beloved, Reasonable 
 Belle ; " an idea which met with the highest 
 approbation from the other children. Nor was 
 it of the slightest consequence that Maggie 
 was herself obliged to dictate the words in 
 which the invitation was to be accepted. It 
 was enough that it was accepted ; and this im- 
 portant business being satisfactorily concluded, 
 they all went happily to their play. 
 
 Tuesday afternoon came, bringing with it the 
 merry, happy party to keep Bessie's birthday. 
 Besides her young classmates, there were half 
 a dozen other little ones ; the family from Riv- 
 erside and from grandmamma's ; Mr. Hall and 
 Mr. Powers; and last and least, but by no 
 means the person of smallest importance, Mrs. 
 Rush's bright, three-months-old baby, May 
 Bessie, the " subject " of Maggie's famous
 
 Bessie's Party. 275 
 
 composition, and our Bessie's particular pet 
 and darling. 
 
 Bessie had a fancy, no one could tell how 
 it had arisen, that the baby's pretty second 
 name had been given for her. Perhaps if :'t 
 had been necessary to undeceive her, young 
 Mrs. Stanton might have laid claim to the 
 honor ; but, seeing the child's satisfaction in 
 the idea, no one had the heart to do so. It 
 gave her a special interest in the baby, and 
 Mrs. Bradford and Colonel Rush were rather 
 glad that it should be so, for they had feared 
 that Bessie might think the Colonel would 
 care less for her, now that he had a little 
 daughter of his own to pet and love. 
 
 But no shade of that slight feeling of jeal- 
 ousy with which Bessie had sometimes to do 
 battle, seemed to have been called forth by 
 this new claimant on the hearts of her friends. 
 Her delight in it was pure and unselfish ; and 
 it was for her and Maggie a fresh source of 
 pleasure whenever they visited Colonel and 
 Mrs. Rush.
 
 276 Bessie at Schoot. 
 
 And Maggie, partly to please Bessie, partly 
 '' for a compliment to Uncle Horace and Aunt 
 May," had discarded all other subjects of com- 
 position, and taken this dear baby ; telling 
 how a little angel had wandered down from 
 heaven to earth to see if it could be of any use 
 there, and falling in with " a brave, lame sol- 
 lier," and his wife, concluded that it could not 
 lo better than stay and make them happy ; 
 : ' because they deserved to have a little bit of 
 heaven in their home," wrote Maggie. 
 
 " A little bit of heaven " the baby had cer- 
 tainly brought with it, as the darlings usually 
 do ; and had Aunt May needed any farther 
 reward than she had already received for the 
 loving teachings she had bestowed on her 
 young Sunday scholars, she would have found 
 it in the joy which they took in her joy, and 
 in this pretty, simple story of Maggie's, which 
 she laughed over and cried over, and then pri- 
 vately copied, putting the copy carefully away 
 with some other small treasures which were 
 very dear.
 
 Bessie's Party. 277 
 
 The birthday party could not be expected to 
 go off well, unless that very considerate " little 
 angel " took part in it ; and so Aunt May had 
 been coaxed to let her come for a short time. 
 And certainly no young lady ever received a 
 greater share of attention at her first party, 
 than did this little queen, who took it all in 
 the most dignified manner, and as if it were a 
 thing to which she was quite accustomed. 
 
 May Bessie had just been carried away by 
 her nurse, when Gracie Howard came in, car- 
 rying in one hand a lovely bouquet, in the other 
 a roll of paper neatly tied with a scarlet rib- 
 bon. The former she presented to Bessie ; and 
 the other children, supposing the latter to be 
 some pretty picture, expected to see that placed 
 in the same hands. 
 
 But that did not follow ; and presently, when 
 Maggie asked, " What would you all like to 
 play first ? " Gracie untied the ribbon, and 
 said, 
 
 " I've brought my prize composition, and 
 I'll read it aloud. Don't you want to hear it ? "
 
 278 Bessie at School. 
 
 " No," said Dora Johnson and Mamie Stone : 
 " we don't." 
 
 " Oh, but you must ! " said Gracie, unrolling 
 her paper and jumping upon a chair. 
 
 " Proudy ! Proudy ! " said Fanny Leroy ; 
 " you are always wanting to show off your own 
 compositions." 
 
 " Before I'd think so much of myself," cried 
 another. But Gracie, nothing daunted, turned 
 to Bessie, and said, 
 
 " You want to hear it : don't you, Bessie ? 
 and it's your party." 
 
 " No," said Bessie, her politeness struggling 
 with her truthftilness and resentment at Gra- 
 de's vanity. " I don't want to hear it ; but 
 I'll let you read it, if you are so very anxious." 
 
 This was permission enough for Gracie ; and 
 she read aloud the composition with an air 
 and tone which seemed to say, " There ! do 
 better than that if you can ! " 
 
 Maggie and Bessie listened, feeling bound 
 to do so, as Gracie was company ; and more- 
 over they both had a strong desire to judge
 
 Bessie's Party. -279 
 
 for themselves if her composition was likely 
 to prove the best. Two or three of the other 
 little girls remained also from curiosity ; but 
 the most of them walked away in great dis- 
 gust at Grade's love of " showing off." 
 
 Several of the grown people were at the 
 other end of the room, and Gracie raised her 
 voice that they might also have the benefit of 
 her performance ; but to her great mortifica- 
 tion, not one of them seemed to pay the slight- 
 est attention. The truth was they all heard 
 well enough, but none of them chose to gratify 
 the conceited little puss by letting her suppose 
 they were listening. 
 
 Maggie's countenance fell, as Gracie went 
 on, but Bessie's brightened ; and, at the close, 
 she drew a long breath of satisfaction. 
 
 " There ! " said Gracie, triumphantly : 
 l ' shan't I have the prize for that ? " 
 
 " No," said Bessie : " I don't believe you will. 
 It is very nice, Gracie, but my Maggie's is a 
 great deal better ; oh, yes ! a great deal bet- 
 ter. It is beautiful ! I'm sorry for you, if
 
 280 Bessie at School. 
 
 you're disappointed ; but I know hers is the 
 best, and I'm very glad for Maggie." 
 
 " You'd better not be so sure I'll be disap 
 pointed," said Gracie. 
 
 Bessie did not answer ; but the very satis- 
 fied look with which she turned to her sister 
 provoked Gracie. 
 
 " You think Maggie is so great ! " she said. 
 
 " Yes, I do," answered Bessie, defiantly. 
 
 " And I'd rather think my sister great than 
 think myself great," said Nellie Ransom. 
 
 Here Mrs. Bradford, hearing that the young 
 voices were not very good-natured in their 
 tones, came to prevent a quarrel ; and Annie 
 Stanton following, proposed a game of hide- 
 and-seek. It was readily agreed to, and peace 
 was restored. 
 
 The game went on for some time with great 
 success, and at last it came to Bessie's turn 
 to be hidden. Sending the seekers to theii 
 gathering place in the dining-room, Aunt 
 Annie took her to the library, and hid her 
 snugly away in a corner behind a tall pedestal.
 
 Bessie's Party. 281 
 
 drawing the window-curtain about it so as to 
 conceal her still further. 
 
 As Bessie lay there, listening to the roices 
 of the other children as they wandered, now 
 nearer, now farther off, in their search for her, 
 her Uncle Ruthven and Colonel Rush came 
 into the library, and placed themselves by the 
 window near which she lay hidden. 
 
 " I'm here in the corner, Uncle Ruthven ; 
 but please don't take any notice for fear the 
 other children know," she whispered, but so 
 softly that neither of the gentlemen heard her, 
 and went on talking without knowing who 
 was near them. 
 
 " That little Howard is an uncommonly 
 clever child," said Mr. Stanton, presently. 
 " That composition is quite beyond her 
 years." 
 
 " H'm," said the Colonel, " conceited little 
 monkey ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Stanton : " it is really 
 painful to see an otherwise pleasant child so 
 pert and forward."
 
 282 Bessie at School. 
 
 " It is a great pity," said the Colonel, " a 
 great pity. I hope her self-conceit may not 
 be encouraged by receiving the prize." 
 
 " I have no doubt that it will fall to her," 
 said Uncle Ruthven. " You must acknowl- 
 edge that, pretty as our Maggie's composition 
 is, this of Gracie's goes before it in all those 
 particulars which would be likely to take a 
 prize." 
 
 " Yes," answered Colonel Rush, reluctantly, 
 " I suppose it does. I do not know that I 
 should be an unprejudiced judge in this mat- 
 ter, owing to my special interest in Maggie's 
 subject," he added, laughing ; " and the sim- 
 plicity and poetry of her little story have gone 
 very close to my heart. But, apart from this, 
 I do not think it will be well for Gracie to 
 gain the prize ; though I fear with you that 
 she will be the successful candidate." 
 
 Bessie did not know what " candidate " 
 meant ; but she understood very well that her 
 uncle and the Colonel thought that Gracie 
 would gain the prize ; and who could be better 
 judges than they ?
 
 Bessie's Party. 283 
 
 She sat motionless with grief and amaze- 
 ment, forgetting her game, forgetting every 
 thing but Maggie's disappointment and her 
 own. She did not hear any thing more that 
 was said by the two gentlemen : she did not 
 notice when Uncle Ruthven opened the win- 
 dow, and they both stepped out upon the 
 piazza ; and when, a moment later, Lily Norris 
 drew aside the curtain, and joyfully exclaimed, 
 " Here she is ! " Bessie felt almost angry that 
 she was forced to come forth from her hiding- 
 place. 
 
 She was not cross, however: she did not 
 even let the tears find way ; but her pleasure 
 in her birthday party was quite gone. Not 
 even that wonderful magic-lantern, which was 
 displayed as soon as it was dark, to the great 
 delight of the other children, could give her 
 any satisfaction ; and it was impossible to 
 look at the troubled little face without seeing 
 that something had happened greatly to dis- 
 turb her.
 
 284 Bessie at School. 
 
 ailed her, till all the young guests had gone, 
 and mamma had taken her upstairs, when 
 she repeated, as nearly as she could, what her 
 uncle and Colonel Rush had said. 
 
 Maggie, too, was dismayed at this sudden 
 downfall of her hopes ; for she agreed with 
 Bessie that Uncle Ruthven and the Colonel 
 must know ; and their mother, who had also 
 heard Grade's composition, could not encour- 
 age them by giving a contrary opinion. 
 
 " I must really say, dear Maggie," she said, 
 " that I would rather have yours than 
 Gracie's ; but I think that hers is almost 
 sure to be the successful one." 
 
 " And all Maggie's pains are lost," said 
 Bessie mournfully. 
 
 " Not at all, dear. Maggie has done all 
 she could be asked to do, her very best ; and 
 it is no fault of hers if another has in some 
 respects done better. And her pains are by 
 no means thrown away, if it were only for 
 the pleasure her story has given to our dear 
 Colonel and Mrs. Rush."
 
 Bessie's Party. 285 
 
 " Then I'm glad I took them." said Maggie , 
 " but, oh, mamma ! " and she ended with a 
 long sigh. 
 
 " So am I," said Bessie ; " and I know the 
 Colonel thinks your composition is splendid, 
 Maggie ; and he would rather you should have 
 the prize." 
 
 " I was afraid when I heard Gracie read 
 hers," said Maggie. " It sounded so much 
 more grown-up-y than mine. Mamma, did it 
 make you feel sorry too ? " 
 
 " No, darling. I will tell you what I felt : 
 that I would rather have my own Maggie as 
 she is, even without the slightest hope of a 
 prize, than to see her vain and forward, aid 
 winning the richest of earthly rewards."
 
 xin. 
 
 LOST AND FOUND. 
 
 | HE children were just ready to start 
 for school the next morning, and 
 papa had promised to walk as far as 
 Mrs. Ashton's door with them, when there 
 was a violent ringing at the bell ; and when 
 the front door was opened, in rushed Gracie 
 Howard, flushed and excited, and with her 
 face wearing the marks of a hard fit of crying. 
 
 Her father followed her. 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Gracie, without waiting 
 to say " good-morning " herself, or allowing 
 any one else to do so, " have you seen it ? 
 have you seen it ? " 
 
 " Seen what ? " asked Maggie and Bessie in 
 a breath. 
 
 " There ! " said Oracle, bursting into tears 
 again, " I knew it 1 oh ! I just knew it ! I
 
 Lost and Found. 287 
 
 told you I was sure I brought it away with 
 me, papa." 
 
 " What is the trouble ? " asked Mr. Brad- 
 ford, shaking hands with Mr. Howard. 
 
 " She has lost her composition," answered 
 Mr. Howard. " It seems she brought it here 
 yesterday afternoon, with the purpose, I am 
 sorry to say, of making a display of it to her 
 young companions ; and this morning it was 
 missing. She is quite positive she had it in 
 her hands when she left your house, but does 
 not recollect bringing it as far as our own ; 
 and her mother, who took off her cloak as 
 soon as she came home, says she is quite sure 
 Gracie carried no composition. But although 
 the child is so confident, I thought she might 
 be mistaken, and find she had left it here. 
 Good-morning, madam : " this to Mrs. Brad- 
 ford who had been called into the hall by 
 Gracie's cries ; and the difficulty was next 
 explained to her. 
 
 " I believe Gracie is right," said the lady 
 " She left the paper lying on the library table,
 
 258 Bessie at School. 
 
 and seeing it there just as she was going 
 away, I brought it out and gave it to her. 
 I do not think she can have left it here ; 
 but I will inquire if the servants have seen 
 it." 
 
 The servants were questioned, but all de- 
 clared they had seen nothing of the missing 
 paper ; and it seemed that Gracie must have 
 lost it in the street. She moaned and sobbed 
 and cried as if she had lost all the world held 
 dear for her, and would not listen to a word 
 of comfort. She thrust the children from her 
 when they would have offered her their sym- 
 pathy, saying she knew they were " glad, be- 
 cause now Maggie could have the prize ; " nor 
 would she listen to her father's entreaties and 
 commands that she should be silent, although, 
 at last, he spoke very severely to her, and was 
 obliged to take her home, in spite of its being 
 nearly school-time. She was in no state for 
 school just then. 
 
 Maggie walked slowly by her father's side 
 on the way to Mrs. Ashton's, not skipping and
 
 Lost and Found. 289 
 
 jumping as usual ; and when they reached 
 the stoop, she seized hold of him, and 
 said, 
 
 " Papa, I'm afraid I feel glad about Grade's 
 composition. Do you think I am dreadfully 
 awful ? " 
 
 " No," said papa, smiling : " I do not. But 
 if I were you, Maggie, I would not say ' awful ' 
 so much. That is something you have learned 
 at school, which I should be glad to have you 
 unlearn as soon as possible. But as to the 
 composition, well, I suppose you could 
 scarcely be expected to feel otherwise ; " 
 and Mr. Bradford smiled again as he thought 
 that ifJie were questioned he might be obliged 
 to confess to a share in Maggie's feelings. 
 " I believe it is only natural, dear ; but I hope 
 you will not let Gracie see it." 
 
 " Oh, no, papa ! " said Maggie , " I hope 1 
 wouldn't be so mean as that. I do feel sorry 
 for Gracie, even if I am glad for myself to 
 nave a better chance." 
 
 " And we'll try to be kinder to Gracie too, 
 
 19
 
 290 Bessie at School. 
 
 BO she'll have no reason to think we're not 
 sorry for her," sayl Bessie. 
 
 All this had made our little girls rathci 
 later than usual ; and they had to take their 
 places immediately, so that there was no op- 
 portunity to tell the news until school had 
 been opened, when Miss Ashton, seeing 
 Gracie was not present, turned to Maggie 
 and said, 
 
 " Gracie is absent. Did you make her sick 
 at your party last night, Maggie ? " 
 
 Then Maggie told of Gracie's loss ; and two 
 or three of the children said they remembered 
 quite well that Mrs. Bradford had come into 
 the hall, and handed Gracie her paper just 
 before she went away. 
 
 The child came in a little later, looking the 
 very picture of woe, and bringing an excuse 
 for tardiness from her mother. But she was 
 in no mood to meet any extra kindness in a 
 gre^eful spirit ; and showed herself altogether 
 so pettish and disagreeable that Miss Ashton 
 was more than once, obliged to call her to
 
 Lost and Found. 291 
 
 order. Then she cried afresh, and said that 
 every one was " hateful," and no one care 3 
 for her, and that she just believed they would 
 not tell her if they knew where her composi- 
 tion was. 
 
 " Come here, Gracie," said Miss Ashton ; 
 and Gracie went slowly and reluctantly to her 
 teacher's side. " Do you really think if any 
 of your schoolmates knew where your com- 
 position was, they would not tell you ? " said 
 the lady. 
 
 Gracie put .up her shoulder, hung her head, 
 and fidgeted from one foot to another ; but 
 Miss Ashton repeated her question. 
 
 Then, her ill-temper getting the upper 
 hand of all her better feelings, she answered 
 sulkily, 
 
 "I don't believe Maggie or Bessie would. 
 I know they are just glad enough." 
 
 " 0-o-o-o-h \ o-o-o-o-h ! What a shame ! " 
 and such exclamations broke from the other 
 children. But Miss Ashton commanded 
 silence.
 
 292 Bessie at School. 
 
 " That is a grave charge to bring against 
 any one, Gracie, and especially against those 
 who have been your friends for so long," said 
 the lady. " I am ashamed of you." 
 
 And Gracie was ashamed of herself, though 
 she would not acknowledge it ; but only 
 pouted the more at Miss Ashton's gentle 
 reproofl 
 
 " Now, my dear," said the lady, " I cannot 
 have you behaving in this way. You are in- 
 terfering with the peace and comfort of the 
 whole class ; and unless you can make up your 
 mind to be reasonable, you must go and sit by 
 yourself in the cloak-room." 
 
 Foolish Gracie! she chose the latter, and 
 went away by herself to nurse her ill-humor 
 and disappointed vanity. 
 
 There was no time now to write another 
 composition. The rough sketch of the first 
 she had thrown into the fire, thinking she 
 would never need it again ; and Gracie did 
 not find her trouble easier to bear because it 
 was, as her father had told her, the result of 
 her own love of display.
 
 Lost and Found. 293 
 
 Maggie and Bessie were both hurt and 
 indignant at her injustice ; but they knew 
 she would be sorry for it when she was in 
 a more reasonable humor, and would not 
 agree to Belle's proposal that '* the whole 
 class should be mad with her as long as 
 they lived." 
 
 Although Mrs. Bradford felt almost sure 
 that Grade had taken the missing paper away 
 with her, and lost it on the way home, she had 
 a thorough search made for it, but all in vain. 
 
 Harry and Fred, the latter especially, were 
 openly jubilant over the loss, imagining, as 
 every one else did, that this left a clear field 
 for Maggie ; and declared Mut " it served 
 Miss Vanity right, and they wore not a bit 
 sorry for her." 
 
 That evening Mr. and Mrs. Bradford went 
 out to dinner, leaving the children quietly 
 amusing themselves in the library. Harry 
 was reading aloud to his little sisters ; while 
 Fred was busy with some wax flowers, a? 
 which pretty work he was quite expert.
 
 294 Bessie at School. 
 
 Mossy, not quite approving of such quiet 
 doings, sat on the corner of Maggie's chair ; 
 but had any one of the four been at leisure to 
 notice him, they would have seen that he was 
 watching his chance for any bit of mischief 
 which might lead to a frolic. 
 
 Fred had spread a paper upon the table, so 
 that the blue cloth with which it was covered 
 might not become soiled with the wax and 
 other materials with which he was busy. He 
 was generally ready enough to indulge Flossy 
 with a game of play ; and the dog, finding that 
 he could attract attention in no other way, 
 suddenly jumped up, and seized the corner of 
 the paper, dragging it half off the table, and 
 upsetting a little saucer of pink powder with 
 which Fred was coloring the rose he was 
 making. 
 
 Fred was provoked, and sent him off with 
 a cuff upon his ear, instead of the romp ho 
 had been looking for ; then set about repair- 
 ing the damage he had caused as speedily as 
 possible, his brother and sisters coming to his 
 help.
 
 Lost and Found. 205 
 
 Some of the pink powder had gone upon 
 the table, and though Harry took it up care- 
 fully with a paper-knife, it left its traces 
 behind. 
 
 " Oh ! won't Patrick be in a taking when 
 he sees the table ? " said Fred. 
 
 "Tt will come off, I guess," said Harry. 
 " Let's brush it up, so as not to vex his old 
 soul. Bessie, run and bring the whisk brush 
 out of the drawer in the hall table : that's a 
 pet." 
 
 Away ran Bessie into the hall, and going 
 to the table, pulled open the drawer. As she 
 did so, she heard something slip, with a little 
 rustle like that of paper ; but she did not pay 
 much attention to it till she tried to shut the 
 drawer, and found that there was something 
 in the way which prevented it from closing 
 tight. 
 
 Many children would have run away without 
 waiting to see what was wrong, but that did 
 not suit at all with Bessie's neat, orderly 
 ways. Once more she pulled out the drawer,
 
 Bessie at School. 
 
 which moved stiffly as if it caught upon some- 
 thing, and peeped within. At first, she could 
 not see any thing ; and she drew it farther out. 
 Again there came that rustle of paper ; and, as 
 she peered in, there, over the back of the 
 drawer, half in, half out, was something white 
 with Bessie could not see very distinctly, 
 and she would not venture another glance, 
 with something that looked as if it might be 
 an end of scarlet ribbon hanging from it. She 
 started, shut up the drawer hastily, thrusting 
 it as far in as she could, and ran back to the 
 library with her heart beating fast. 
 
 " Hallo ! " said Fred, as he put out his 
 hand to take the brush from her, " what has 
 frightened you ? You look as if you'd seen 
 something." 
 
 " You have no right to say 1 saw any 
 thing," said Bessie, in a tone so sharp and 
 angry that her brothers and sister looked at 
 her in great surprise. 
 
 " Whew ! " said Fred. " You seem to have 
 picked up a fit of crossness any way. I'd like
 
 Lost and Found. 297 
 
 to know what has come over you so sud- 
 denly." 
 
 " You can just hush and let me alone," said 
 Bessie. " I'll never bring you a brush again, 
 Fred ; " and then she ran out of the room,' 
 and upstairs as fast as she could go. 
 
 " Well, did you ever ? " exclaimed Fred. 
 
 " What can ail her ? " said Harry. She 
 surely did not mind going for the brush ? " 
 
 " Why, no," answered Fred : " she seemed 
 ready enough ; but she came back the next 
 moment in such a fume, and looking scared 
 out of her wits." 
 
 " I'm going to see," said Maggie : " she'll 
 tell me ; " and she ran after Bessie. 
 
 But Maggie was mistaken. 
 
 She found Bessie in their mother's room, 
 her angry mood passing away ; but she still 
 looked flushed and troubled, and to all Mag- 
 gie's anxious questioning, she would give no 
 satisfactory answer. 
 
 "You must have seen something that 
 frightened you : didn't you, Bessie ? "
 
 298 Bessie at School. 
 
 " I don't know," answered Bessie : " I was 
 frightened ; but I -don't know if I saw what I 
 saw, I mean I don't know if I saw what I 
 thought I saw, and I didn't want to look 
 again." 
 
 " Was it a robber ? " asked Maggie. 
 
 " No," said Bessie. " If it had been a 
 robber, I'd have said, ' Thou shalt not steal,' 
 and then run for Patrick to take him to the 
 policeman." 
 
 " I guess he wouldn't have waited till 
 Patrick came," said Maggie. " But tell me 
 about it, Bessie." 
 
 " Not now, Maggie. Maybe I'll have to 
 tell you some other time ; but you wouldn't 
 like to hear it, and I'll have to think about 
 it first. Oh ! I do wish mamma was home ! '' 
 
 " Is it a weight on your mind ? " asked 
 Maggie, who, as well as her sister, was very 
 fond of this expression. 
 
 Bessie nodded assent with a long and 
 golemn shake of her head. 
 
 " I think you might tell me" said Maggie.
 
 L.ost and Found. 299 
 
 " I don't mean to keep it secret from you 
 for ever and ever," said Bessie ; " but you see 
 I'm not quite sure about something, and I'm 
 'fraid I ought to make myself sure. And 
 if I was sure, I would not know what I 
 ought to do. It is very hard to think what 
 is right about it." 
 
 Maggie looked wonderingly into her sister's 
 puzzled face. What could have happened to 
 trouble her so in that moment or two she 
 was out in the hall ? But anxious though 
 she was, she asked no more questions, know- 
 ing that Bessie would tell her this wonderful 
 secret when she was ready. 
 
 " There's the bell for our supper," she 
 said. " Come down, and don't bother your- 
 self any more about it." 
 
 Bessie obeyed the first injunction, but the 
 second was out of her power. She was no 
 longer cross, however, and begged Fred's par- 
 don for having spoken so pettishly to him ; 
 but she sent away her supper almost untasted, 
 and continued thoughtful and rather mournful
 
 300 Bessit at School. 
 
 till her bedtime. She was really glad when 
 that hour came, and she was safe in bed, when 
 she could think over this troublesome matter 
 in quiet, and ask for the help which never 
 failed her. 
 
 She thought she should stay awake till her 
 mother came home, and as she lay tossing 
 and restless, it seemed to her that mamma 
 was staying away half the night. But al- 
 though it was not really so very late, she had 
 dropped off to sleep before her mother came 
 to see if her little girls were all safe and quiet 
 for the night ; and mamma was sorry to find 
 Bessie's face and pillow wet with tears. 
 
 Nurse could not tell what the trouble had 
 been, only that Bessie had seemed dull and 
 out of spirits when she put her to bed, and 
 would not say what ailed her. 
 
 The little girl woke very early the next 
 morning, and finding Maggie still sleeping, 
 she lay quietly thinking. 
 
 Thinking of that which had troubled and 
 puzzled her so last night ; but now it seemed 
 all clear.
 
 Lost and Found. 301 
 
 She feared that the paper which she had 
 seen in the drawer was Grade's composi- 
 tion; but she was not sure; and she had 
 had a hard struggle with herself, trying to 
 believe that it was not her duty to go and 
 find out. 
 
 A voice had whispered to her, " What is 
 the good of looking ? You only saw a paper 
 which may be Gracie's, and may not be ; and 
 it is none of your business. Just let it alone, 
 and trouble yourself no more about it. If you 
 found it was really the lost composition, what 
 would you do then ? Go and tell every one, 
 and take away Maggie's chance for the prize ? 
 Remember what your uncle and the Colonel 
 said. And does not every one say that Grade 
 is only properly punished for her vanity ? 
 Why should you interfere ? If you did know 
 that was the missing paper, is there any 
 reason why you should tell where it is ? If 
 you injure Gracie by keeping it back, do you 
 not injure Maggie by bringing it to light ? 
 Maggie is your sister, your own dear little
 
 302 Bessie at School. 
 
 sister ; and surely you ought to consider hei 
 first, and do what is best for her." 
 
 " But," said Conscience, "is it right, is it 
 just ? How would you feel towards any one 
 who did this to Maggie ? Would you not say 
 they had acted unfairly and meanly towards 
 her ? Would you like your papa or mamma 
 or any other person to know it ? Will Jesus 
 be pleased with you, and think you are acting 
 as His own little child should do ? " 
 
 Poor little thing! She was really sorely 
 puzzled. She could not make it seem right 
 to do what she wished to do, and what seemed 
 to be best for her sister ; and yet how could she 
 make up her mind to do what appeared so 
 unkind to her own Maggie ? Oh, if mamma 
 were only there to help her to know what was 
 right and best ! Well, all she could do was 
 to tell her all her doubts in the morning. 
 
 Such were the thoughts which had dis- 
 turbed her last night, and called forth the 
 tears with which mamma had found her pil- 
 Icw wet ; but this morning the struggle waa
 
 Lost and Found. 303 
 
 over, and Bessie felt quite sure that there was 
 only one right thing for her to do. 
 
 She lay still till Maggie woke, and then 
 said, " Maggie, are you wide awake ? 'cause I 
 have a bad news to tell you." 
 
 Maggie, who was always very wide awake, 
 and ready for the day's business the moment 
 her eyes were open, answered, eager with ex- 
 pectation : " Oh, yes ! very wide indeed. Is 
 it about what troubled you last night, Bessie ? 
 Tell me quick." 
 
 "Yes," said Bessie, slowly; "but first ] 
 want to ask you something, dear Maggie. If 
 I had to do a very unkind thing to you, or to 
 some other person, what would you think I 
 ought to do ? " 
 
 " Why," said Maggie, sitting up in her little 
 bed, " I would think you ought to choose 
 that other person to do it to. I'm your sister, 
 you know," in a tone as if this quite settled 
 the question. 
 
 " Yes," said poor Bessie, with a sigh. " But 
 then, Maggie, what if I thought it most right 
 to do it to you ? "
 
 304 Bessie at Schoot. 
 
 " Well," said Maggie, hugging up hei 
 knees, and leaning her chin against them, 
 while she gazed in surprise at Bessie, " well, 
 if you thought such a queer thing as that 
 why, I'd have to think you were a little bit 
 crazy, Bessie." 
 
 " Yes, if I wanted to do it, Maggie ; but you 
 know I would rather do an unkind thing to 
 any one than you. But if it seemed the truest, 
 the honestest way, would you think I was 
 crazy then ? " 
 
 " Well, no," said Maggie, rather doubtfully ; 
 " but I don't see how that could be, Bessie ; 
 and I can't judge much if you don't tell me 
 more about it." 
 
 " Maggie, last night when I went to the 
 drawer in the hall-table, I saw something there, 
 way far back, that looked like a rolled-up 
 paper." 
 
 " Well ? " said Maggie. 
 
 " And I think, but I am not sure, that it had 
 a piece of red ribbon on it ; but I did not wait 
 to look again, and shut up the drawer very 
 quick."
 
 Lost and Found. 305 
 
 " Oh ! " said Maggie, as she released her 
 olasp on her knees, and rolled over on her pil- 
 low ; " then that was what ailed you last night, 
 I s'pose." 
 
 " Yes," answered Bessie, piteously ; " and 
 you know what I thought it looked like : don't 
 you, Maggie ? " 
 
 " Well, yes," said Maggie, taking the news 
 much more coolly than Bessie had supposed 
 she would. " I s'pose you thought it was 
 Grade's composition ; and it was." 
 
 " How do you know ? " asked Bessie, start- 
 ing up. 
 
 " 'Cause last night I went to put the brush 
 back in the drawer, and when I pulled it open, 
 I heard something rustle, and I peeped in, and 
 poked it till it fell out on the floor ; and it was 
 Gracie's paper, all mussed up and crumpled : 
 I guess it came so, being squeezed up in the 
 drawer. So you see she didn't take it away 
 with her after all ; but I do wonder how it 
 came there." 
 
 " But why didn't you tell me ? " asked Bessie. 
 20
 
 306 Bessie at School. 
 
 " Why, I thought you had one unhappinesH 
 in your mind already," said Maggie ; " and I 
 knew you would feel rather sorry about this, 
 so I thought I would not tell you till this morn- 
 ing. But Bessie, why didn't you tell me, and 
 why didn't you look again and be sure ? " 
 
 " 'Cause I didn't want to be sure. Mag- 
 gie ! you were a great deal better than me. I 
 tried to think I did not know what the paper 
 was, and that I need not find out if I did not 
 want to, and that it was not mine to do any- 
 thing about, and that it would not be right to 
 do such an unkind thing to you. But all I 
 could do, it would seem as if it was a kind of 
 a cheat, not very true ; and I had to feel as if 
 I ought to look again, and if it was really 
 Gracie's paper to give it to her. But I could 
 not help praying a good deal that ' our Fa 
 ther ' would not let it be the composition ii 
 He did not think it was very much the best 
 I think it was worse than about the hospital 
 bed, Maggie. I did feel so sure yesterday that 
 you would have the prize now."
 
 Lost and Found. 307 
 
 " You darling, precious ducky ! " said Mag - 
 gie. " That was an awful temptation for you 
 Oh ! I forgot. Papa told me not to say ' aw- 
 ful.' But then that was really awful ; so I can 
 say it this time." 
 
 " Didn't you feel a bit like hiding it, Mag- 
 gie ? " said Bessie. 
 
 " Why, no," said Maggie. " I never thought 
 about its being the composition, till I picked it 
 up, and saw it was. But I felt as provoked as 
 any thing for a moment, I'm sure I don't 
 know who at, but I just felt that if it would 
 not be so awfully, I mean so dreadfully 
 mean, I'd just like to tear the compo- 
 sition up. But after that, I was more sensible, 
 and then I remembered about you, and how 
 you'd be provoked too ; so I put the paper back 
 in the drawer, and thought I'd tell you and 
 mamma this morning, and then we'd take it 
 to school for Grade." 
 
 " I believe you're just the best, darlingest 
 girl that ever lived ! " exclaimed Bessie, look- 
 ing at her sister in great admiration and relief
 
 308 Bessie at School. 
 
 * And now, dear Maggie, I suppose you KIIO-W 
 what the unkind thing was I had to do to you ; 
 and you won't think me a bit crazy, will you ? " 
 
 " Wliy, no," said Maggie ; " you couldn't 
 help it, you had to do it, so that I don't see 
 that it was unkind. And Bessie, you see it 
 was a great deal harder for you ahout the 
 temptation than it was for me. If it had been 
 you that had a chance for the prize, I don't 
 know if I could have stood it : no, I don't, Bes- 
 sie. There ! mamma is awake. I hear her 
 talking. Mamma ! mamma ! can we come in 
 your bed? We have a discovery to tell you." 
 
 Mamma said " yes," and jumping up, they 
 ran into the other room, and scrambled into 
 her bed, where the " discovery," and the story 
 of Bessie's temptation and struggle were soon 
 told. 
 
 " My dear little girls ! " said Mrs. Bradford, 
 fondly. " I am so thankful." 
 
 " For what, mamma ? " said Maggie, in sur- 
 prise. " You are not glad that Gracie's com- 
 position is found, are you ? I thought it wag
 
 Lost and Found. 309 
 
 rather a misfortune; but then, you see, we 
 could not help it ? " 
 
 " I am not sorry" said her mother, " since 
 it has shown me that my fears were without 
 cause ; and that all your anxiety for these 
 prizes could not make you unfair or ungener- 
 ous towards another, or lead either of you 
 from the ways of truth and uprightness. Yes ; 
 I would rather know this, than that my Maggie 
 and Bessie should gain a thousand prizes." 
 
 It never was found out exactly how the lost 
 paper came in that drawer. No one could 
 recollect putting it there ; and Mrs. Bradford 
 said Gracie must have laid it on the table after 
 she brought it out to her, and some person 
 have caught it up with other things, and thrust 
 it in without noticing it. That drawer had 
 been searched with other places, but the paper 
 had been pushed out of sight, till Bessie heard 
 the rustle and discovered it
 
 XIV. 
 
 THE A WARD. 
 
 IRACIE was not at school that morn- 
 ing, for the child had actually cried 
 herself sick on the previous day ; but 
 when Maggie gave her own composition to 
 Miss Ashton to be placed in her uncle's hands, 
 she gave Gracie's with it, as she knew her lit- 
 tle friend would wish. 
 
 " And where was it found, dear ? " asked 
 Miss Ashton, who stood leaning against the 
 window of the back room with her arm about 
 Belle Powers' waist ; while most of the girls, 
 large and small, were gathered about her, en- 
 joying the sweet spring air which came in 
 through the open sash. 
 
 How pleasant the old garden looked this 
 bright May morning, with the early leaves just 
 budding forth, its peach-trees covered with
 
 The Award. 311 
 
 delicate pink blossoms, its crocuses, violets, and 
 tulips all in full bloom, the pigeons dressing 
 their feathers on the stone wall, the guinea 
 hens and two peacocks strutting about, and 
 the sparrows and other small birds twittering 
 and hopping among the branches ! 
 
 Maggie told where and how she had found 
 the paper. 
 
 " And were you not put out when you found 
 it ? " said Kate Maynard, thoughtlessly. 
 
 Maggie looked up into the laughing face, 
 and answered candidly, "Yes, Miss Kate, I 
 was ; but I think I'm over that now." 
 
 " Maggie was very good indeed about it, Miss 
 Kate," said Bessie, quickly. " Nobody could 
 be better. Mamma was very much pleased 
 with her." 
 
 " Maggie is just a great deal too good," said 
 Dora Johnson. " She ought to have left it 
 in the drawer, and not said a word about it. 
 / would have, and good enough for thai 
 proudy." 
 
 " Dora," said Miss Ashton, " I do not thiufe
 
 312 Bessie at School. 
 
 you would have done a thing like that : would 
 you, my dear ? " 
 
 " Well'm," said Dora, " if it had been foi 
 myself, maybe I wouldn't ; but if I had known 
 Gracie's composition was there, I wouldn't 
 have told her to make a chance against Mag- 
 gie." 
 
 "I wouldn't either," said Belle, "Let's 
 throw it away again, and not tell Gracie ; " 
 and quick and impulsive as she always was, 
 she snatched the unlucky paper from Miss 
 Ashton's hand, and tossed it with all her little 
 strength out of the window. 
 
 What would Gracie have said to see her 
 much-thought-of composition so scornfully 
 handled ? But it did not come to much fur- 
 ther harm. Falling upon the roof of the 
 piazza below, it only rolled down to the edge 
 and lay there. 
 
 " No, no, little Belle," said Miss Ashton, 
 speaking in the gentle, excusing tone, which 
 all, teachers and scholars, used to the mother- 
 less child of an over-indulgent, rather spoiling
 
 The Award. 313 
 
 father. " No, no, little Belle : that is naughty. 
 You would not be unfair to Gracie even for 
 your favorite Maggie, would you ? " 
 
 " Yes'm," said Belle, decidedly. " I would. 
 Maggie is the best." 
 
 " But it is who has the best composition, 
 not who is the best child," said Miss Ashton. 
 " And we are net the judges of that : all must 
 have the same chance." 
 
 " I wish I were the judges," said Belle, re 
 gardless of grammar ; " and I would give 
 prizes for every thing, and all to Maggie and 
 Bessie; but only one for Miss Ashton," and 
 she patted affectionately the hand about her 
 waist. " Anyhow, Gracie can't get that now. 
 When it rains, it will be all spoiled." 
 
 The girls laughed at the satisfied tone and 
 nod of the head which accompanied these 
 words ; but Miss Ashton said, " Oh, no, Belle ! 
 I shall send Marcia out to pick it up. We 
 must all be just to one another : must we not, 
 Bessie ? " and she smiled into the earnest eyea 
 which were looking up into hers, though she
 
 314 Bessie at School. 
 
 had no idea of the struggle which her truthful 
 little scholar had gone through before she 
 could make up her mind that justice to Gracie 
 was not something very like injustice to her 
 own dear Maggie. 
 
 " Well," said Kate, laughing and rubbing 
 Maggie's cheeks between her hands till they 
 were even rosier than was natural to them, 
 " if the composition prize were to go by favor, 
 we all know who would have it : do we not, 
 Maggie ? " 
 
 Yes, this was so ; and Gracie, really a pleas- 
 ant, affectionate child, had arrayed all her 
 schoolmates against her by her self-conceit and 
 vanity, till not one of them was ready to be 
 pleased at the possibility of her gaining the 
 prize. 
 
 She lay upon the sofa that afternoon, recov- 
 ering from the headache into which she had 
 cried herself. She still looked as if she felt 
 very wretchedly both in mind and body, and 
 lay idly playing with the tassels of the sofa- 
 cushions, thinking, thinking of her lost treas-
 
 The Award. 315 
 
 ure. Her father sat by the table, writing; 
 her mother by the window, playing with her 
 little brother. 
 
 " Why ! " said Mrs. Howard, looking out 
 of the window to see what had called forth 
 such a delighted exclamation from Charlie ; 
 " here are Maggie and Bessie with their nurse. 
 Coming to see why you have not been to 
 school, I suppose, Gracie." 
 
 " I don't want to see them, and I won't, 
 now ! " said Gracie, pettishly, flouncing herself 
 around. " I know they've come to let me see 
 how glad they are about to-morrow." 
 
 " Gracie ! " said her father, sternly ; " I will 
 have no more of this." Then more gently, he 
 added, " I do not know you, my daughter, in 
 such a mood as this. You are not only de- 
 stroying your own comfort and that of every 
 one about you, but you are allowing your dis- 
 appointed vanity to make you unjust and un- 
 kind to your little friends. I wish you to see 
 Maggie and Bessie, and to receive them as 
 kindly and politely as you would have done a
 
 316 Bessie at School. 
 
 few days since, before this wicked jealousy 
 took possession of you." 
 
 Gracie was startled, for she was not accus- 
 tomed to hear her father speak in this way ; 
 indeed, she did not often deserve it, and she 
 was still crying when Maggie and Bessie came 
 in. 
 
 " Poor Gracie ! " said Bessie, as soon as she 
 and her sister had spoken to Mr. and Mrs. 
 Howard ; " we were 'fraid you were sick when 
 you didn't come to school, so we asked mamma 
 to let us come and see you, for we have some 
 very good news for you." 
 
 " What ? " said Gracie, looking and speak- 
 ing as if no news would ever be good again to 
 her. 
 
 " Your composition is found," said Maggie. 
 
 "Where is it? "asked Gracie, starting to 
 her feet. 
 
 " I s'pose Mr. Ashton has it now," answered 
 Maggie. " I gave it to Miss Ashton when I 
 found you were not at school, 'cause they all 
 Had to be handed to her uncle this afternoon ;
 
 The Award. 317 
 
 and I thought that was what you would want 
 me tc do." 
 
 Gracie did not need to meet her father's or 
 mother's accusing eye to feel how causeless 
 her unjust suspicions had been. Delight at the 
 recovery of the lost paper was almost overcome 
 by self-reproach and shame ; and her head sank, 
 while a choking feeling in her throat kept her 
 from speaking her thoughts. 
 
 " Where was it found, dear child ? " asked 
 Mr. Howard ; and Maggie once more repeated 
 the story. 
 
 " Oh, I'm so sorry, so sorry ! " said Gracie, 
 throwing an arm about the neck of each one 
 of her little schoolmates. 
 
 " So sorry for what ? 'cause your compo- 
 sition is found?" asked the wondering Bes- 
 sie. 
 
 " No ; because I was so naughty and ugly 
 and hateful, and said such mean things to 
 you arid about you," said Gracie, more repen- 
 tant than she could find words to tell. 
 
 " Oh ! never mind now," said Maggie, with
 
 318 Bessie at School. 
 
 sweet forgivingness. " You wouldn't have said 
 them if you hadn't been so disappointed." 
 
 " And, Grade," said Bessie, " we couldn't 
 help feeling a little glad, though we were sorry 
 for you. I heard papa tell mamma it was only 
 human nature, and I s'pose it's to be 'spected 
 you'd have a little human nature too." 
 
 " What is human nature, Bessie ? " asked 
 Mr. Howard. 
 
 Bessie stood thoughtful a moment, and then 
 answered, 
 
 " I'm not very sure, sir ; but I think it means 
 temper and selfishness and other naughty 
 things that Jesus don't like." * 
 
 Mr. Howard smiled. 
 
 " Isn't that right, sir ? " asked Bessie, rather 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Just about right, dear child," answered the 
 gentleman. " Human nature is pretty much 
 mad'j up of such things." 
 
 " But then Jesus will help us with it, it we 
 * Afcct
 
 The Award. 
 
 go to Him," said the child, softly, to herself, 
 thinking of the battle she had fought with her 
 own sinful nature, and the victory she had 
 won through the aid of the Captain she had 
 chosen. 
 
 The good news about her composition did 
 much toward helping on Grade's recovery ; 
 and before Maggie and Bessie went away, she 
 was quite herself once more, and talking 
 cheerily to them about to-morrow's expected 
 events. 
 
 Mrs. Ashton's school-rooms were a pretty 
 sight the next morning, for scarcely a girl in 
 either class but had brought some flowers as a 
 gift to her teacher, and they were all set forth 
 to deck the rooms. The girls were all in 
 white, the elder ones with pink ribbons, the 
 little children with blue to mark their classes ; 
 though there was not much need of this, for 
 the difference in size would have done that 
 readily enough. But it was a fancy of some 
 of the girls, and as it put them all in a sort of 
 uniform, and made the rooms look gay, it was
 
 320 Bessie at School. 
 
 just as well. But the bright young faces full 
 of pleasure and good-humor were the greatest 
 Attraction there, and so thought Miss Ashton 
 as one after another appeared. 
 
 The girls all came about two o'clock, though 
 their friends were not expected till half an 
 hour later. 
 
 " Did you ever see a lovelier day ? " said 
 Kate Maynard, coming in with her hands full 
 of lilies of the valley, the sight of which called 
 forth many an admiring " oh ! " and " ah ! " 
 from the rest. 
 
 " Lovely ! " said Julia Grafton : " it is a 
 real genuine poet May-day. No make-believe 
 spring about this." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Kate, " we ought to have 
 chosen a May queen, and crowned her. Why 
 did we not think of it before ? Well, it is not 
 too late now: let us do it, and I will make 
 a crown of these lilies." 
 
 The proposal met with general approval. 
 
 " Whom shall we choose ? " said Fanny 
 Leroy
 
 The Award. 321 
 
 ' One of the little ones, of course," said 
 Kate, looking round upon the pleased group 
 of the smaller children who gathered about hei 
 to watch the skilful fingers which were already 
 at work upon the wreath of lilies. 
 
 Belle clapped her hands. 
 
 " Maggie, Maggie ! let's have Maggie ! " she 
 said. " She's the best deserving for being so 
 good about Gracie's composition." 
 
 " Yes, Maggie," said Gracie, who, feeling 
 sure that she would herself carry off what she 
 considered the greatest honor of the day, was 
 glad to have her little friend obtain a lower 
 one. " Let her be May queen." 
 
 The other children readily agreed, for Mag- 
 gie's sweet-tempered and obliging ways had 
 made her a favorite with all the school. She 
 was not a little pleased ; but when Kate had 
 completed the wreath, her bashfulness took 
 alarm at the idea of wearing it before all the 
 ladies and gentlemen, and so exciting notice 
 she might otherwise escape. It required a 
 good deal of coaxing from all, and some pre- 
 
 21
 
 Bessie at School. 
 
 tence of hurt feeling on Kate's part, before she 
 could be induced to put it on ; but after a time 
 she forgot the honors that had been forced 
 upon her in the other claims upon her atten- 
 tion. 
 
 Onl) once was she a little disturbed aft* 
 they were all in their places, and their friends 
 had arrived. This was when Bessie, seeing 
 her mother's eyes fixed with some surprise 
 upon Maggie, thought herself called upon fir 
 an explanation. Placing a hand upon either 
 side of her mouth, and speaking between them, 
 she said, in a loud whisper which reached the 
 ears of every one in both rooms, as well as the 
 one for whom it was intended, 
 
 "She's May queen, mamma. The girls 
 made her it. Don't she look lovely ? " 
 
 A smile passed around the room, and dovrn 
 went her majesty's head in a style very unbe- 
 fitting one which wore a crown. 
 
 But now all were ready, and the examiria 
 tion began. There is no need to say much 
 about that, save that it was not long, and. afl
 
 The Award. 323 
 
 Mr. Ashton said, did credit to both teachers 
 and scholars. Next, Mr. Ashton made a 
 speech, which the children liked all tl e better 
 because it, too, was short ; and then came the 
 grand business of the day, the distribution of 
 the prizes. 
 
 In the first class, that for composition was 
 bestowed upon Kate Maynard ; that for perfect 
 lessons, upon Julia Grafton. 
 
 " Now for our little friends here," said Mr. 
 Ashton, turning to the younger children. 
 " The greatest number of perfect lessons has 
 been recited by Miss Gracie Howard. She 
 stands four ahead of any other in her class ; 
 therefore she is justly entitled to the prize ; " 
 and he held towards Gracie, a box containing 
 a prettily bound set of those little library vol- 
 umes so dear to the eyes and hearts of children. 
 
 She rose and came forward to receive it with 
 a self-satisfied air, which said as plainly as 
 could be without words, " Only look at me. 
 Am I not a wonderful child? Do you not 
 envy my father and mother ? "
 
 324 Bessie at School. 
 
 But in spite of their gratification at her suc- 
 cess, her father and mother did not feel that 
 they were to be envied just then. It was all 
 spoiled by the little toss of the head, the look 
 which swept the room seeking for admiration, 
 and the conceited air which were the outward 
 signs of Gracie's intense vanity; and her 
 mother thought she would far rather see her 
 as shy and shrinking us Maggie Bradford. 
 
 Gracie courtesied vhen Mr. Ashton placed 
 the books in her hand ; and then stood still 
 as if waiting for what ? So confident did 
 she feel that the gentleman would, the next 
 moment, call her name again, and bestow upon 
 her the yet more coveted composition prize, that 
 beautiful little rosewood writing-desk, that it 
 did not seem worth while to go back to her 
 seat ; and she actually remained waiting for 
 it, till recalled to herself by Miss Ashton's 
 " Gracie ! " and the motion of her teacher's 
 hand directing her to take her place. 
 
 " With regard to the compositions written 
 by this younger class," continued Mr. Ashton,
 
 The Award. 323 
 
 " I must say that they are all very well done, 
 remarkably so for such little girls, and sho\v 
 great pains taken both by the teacher and the 
 taught. Three of them are so nearly equal in 
 merit, that I found some difficulty in judging 
 between them." 
 
 Three ! Maggie's must be one ; Gracie's, 
 
 
 
 another ; but whose could the third be ? The 
 children looked from one to another in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " The one called * The Angel's Wander- 
 ings,' " said Mr. Ashton, " contains a great 
 deal of poetry and originality ; " some of 
 the little ones wondered what that long word 
 meant, and the royal eyes peeped up from 
 under the royal eyelashes, half-shyly, half-de- 
 lighted ; oh! was it really coming to her? 
 " but the other two of which I have spoken, 
 excel it in some respects. These are ' Christ- 
 mas Holydays,' and A Sunday Walk ; ' and 
 (his last, written by Miss Nellie Ransom, I 
 have decided on the whole to be the most 
 worthy of the prize. The neatness and care
 
 326 Bessie at School. 
 
 with which this paper has been copied and 
 presented have gone some way in fixing a 
 choice which was somewhat difficult. Miss 
 Nellie Ransom, my dear." 
 
 Nellie Ransom ! studious, painstaking, but 
 not remarkably clever Nellie, whom not one 
 in the school had ever thought of as the 
 winner of the prize. Even Miss Ashton was 
 rather surprised, though she knew better what 
 Nellie could do than any of her schoolmates 
 did ; but no one was more astonished than 
 the modest little girl herself. 
 
 Mr. Ashton repeated her name more than 
 once, while she sat still in mute amazement ; 
 and, even then, she had to be urged forward 
 by the little girls on either side of her. 
 
 " Don't you hear, Nellie ? Go, Nellie. The 
 prize is for you ; go take it, Nellie," was whis- 
 pered around her before she could collect her- 
 self sufficiently to go up and receive the desk 
 from Mr. Ashton' s hands. 
 
 To describe Grade's astonishment and 
 indignation would be quite impossible. The
 
 1'he Award. 327 
 
 pretty reward she had already won had 110 
 longer any charm in her eyes, since that she 
 had regarded as her own was lost to her. 
 And after all her boasting! Tears of mor- 
 tification and disappointment welled up to her 
 eyes, and would not be kept back ; and an 
 angry sob, and a murmur of " It's not fair ; 
 mine was the best ! " broke from her. 
 
 " Now," said Mr. Ashton, " we are to bestow 
 what I consider the first prize of the day. 
 You all know what that is ; this paper, which 
 will give to her who wins it by the choice of 
 her schoolmates, the power of doing good 
 to some crippled child. This choice, 1 
 trust, will be made fairly and honestly, with- 
 out partiality. I want it given to the young 
 lady whom you all feel most truly deserves it, 
 though she may not perhaps be the one for 
 whom you care most. All you little ones 
 understand me, do you not ? Now, will each 
 one write upon a slip of paper the name of the 
 girl to whom her vote is given, and we wilj 
 see who has the greatest number."
 
 328 Bessie at School. 
 
 Twenty heads were presently bent over aa 
 many slips of paper ; but directly Bessie rose 
 to her feet, and stood looking at Miss Ashton 
 as if she wished permission to speak. 
 
 "Well, Bessie, what is it ? " asked the 
 young lady, wondering what was coming now, 
 as she saw the grave, earnest face of the little 
 girl. 
 
 " Miss Ashton," said Bessie, " I really do 
 think my Maggie is the best, but I'm 'fraid 1 
 do feel partialltied to her. I couldn't help it, 
 you know. Does it make any difference about 
 my voting for her ? " 
 
 Miss Ashton smiled, and looked at her 
 uncle, who smiled also, and answered for her. 
 
 " None at all, little one. If you really think 
 your Maggie deserves the prize, vote for her. 
 by all means. I'll answer for it that your 
 love for her makes her none the less worthy." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," answered Bessie, de- 
 murely ; and she sat down again, and, with 
 great satisfaction, wrote Maggie's name in the 
 largest possible letters
 
 The Award. 329 
 
 The business of writing the names did not 
 take long, for every girl had long since made 
 up her mind for whom she should vote. Belle 
 Powers was sent to collect the slips of paper, 
 and brought them to Mr. Ashton, who, with 
 his niece, looked over them. 
 
 " There does not seem to be much differ- 
 ence of opinion," he said, smiling again. " One 
 for Maggie Bradford, four for Belle Powers, 
 and fifteen for Bessie Bradford. My little girl, 
 the hospital bed is yours, to give to whom you 
 will. If you know of any child to whom it will 
 be a help and comfort, you have also the sat- 
 isfaction of knowing that you have gained it 
 for him by your own good conduct, and the 
 love and approbation of your schoolmates." 
 
 If Nellie had been surprised, Bessie was 
 certainly no less so. She could scarcely be- 
 lieve her own ears. The hospital bed her own, 
 to give to lame Jemmy ! It seemed too good 
 to be true. She had had a strong hope that 
 dear little Belle would gain it ; and Belle, as 
 you know, had promised that Jemmy should
 
 330 Bessie at School. 
 
 have it, if it fell to her ; but that she, Bessie, 
 should be the chosen one, and that by fifteen 
 votes ! she could not understand it. 
 
 With a flush upon her cheek, but still with 
 a quiet, simple dignity very different from 
 Gracie's air of supreme self-satisfaction, she 
 rose and went forward to Mr. Ashton. 
 
 " My dear little girl," said the gentleman, 
 looking down kindly upon her, " from what I 
 have heard I believe that the choice of your 
 schoolmates has been justly made. You have 
 looked only to the honor of God, and tried 
 most earnestly to ' do the thing that is right ; ' 
 and God has said ' them that honor me, I will 
 honor.' May He bless you, and keep you 
 always in His own way." 
 
 Bessie took the folded paper he held out to 
 her, and answered, " Thank you very much, 
 sir, and lame Jemmy will thank you very 
 much too. He is a very good, patient boy." 
 
 " I dare say," replied Mr. Ashton ; " but he 
 has to thank you, not me." 
 
 Bessie gave him another grateful glance,
 
 The Award. 331 
 
 and turned to go back to her seat ; but as she 
 did so she caught Kate Maynard's roguish 
 eyes fixed upon her, their mischief softened 
 by an expression of tender pride and con- 
 gratulation, which told her that the young 
 lady was nearly as well pleased as herself. 
 
 " Oh, Katie ! " she exclaimed, standing 
 where she was, and forgetting for the moment 
 that every one in the room was watching her; 
 then turning towards her mother, and meeting 
 her dear look of loving sympathy, all that was 
 iii her little heart proved too much for her, 
 and dropping the paper she ran swiftly across 
 the room, and buried her head in mamma's 
 lap. How much there was in that " Oh, 
 Katie ! " perhaps Kate herself only knew ; and 
 although she joined in the smile which passed 
 around, the laughing eyes were suddenly 
 dimmed, and her hand went up to dash away 
 one or two very suspicious-looking drops. 
 
 This last little performance on Bessie's part 
 was not in the programme, and rather out 
 of mle, to be sure ; but as the exercises of
 
 332 Bessie at School. 
 
 the day were now over, it did not so much 
 matter. 
 
 Mamma's gentle soothing soon calmed hei 
 over-excitement, and there was Maggie, w"h 
 her arms about her neck, whispering, " Bv 
 sie, I don't mind a bit about the composition 
 prize now. I'd rather than any thing that 
 you would have this. And I'm so glad for 
 lame Jemmy." 
 
 " Yes," said Bessie ; " it was so good of the 
 girls." 
 
 " No, it wasn't," said Belle, who was hold- 
 ing fast to her father's hand, and jumping 
 up and down in an ecstasy of delight at 
 Bessie's success ; " no, it wasn't. They 
 couldn't help it, not if they wrote the truf, 
 and Mrs. Ashton said they must. And, Bes- 
 sie, do you know the reason you had so many 
 votes, was 'cause all the big young ladies 
 wrote your name ; every one in that class. 
 Miss Ashton just told papa so. It's very 
 nice to have so many give it to you, Bessie : 
 is it not ? "
 
 The Award. 333 
 
 Nice ! Bessie thought so indeed ! A hap- 
 pier child could not have been found than 
 she was, as she sat with her head leaning 
 upon her mother's breast, wearing a face of 
 such perfect content. She had her reward 
 indeed, not only a heart at peace with God and 
 man, but also the longed-for gift for the crip 
 pled boy. Had she given way in that moment 
 of temptation, it could not have come to her 
 fairly; and where, oh! where would have 
 been the first ? 
 
 She had nothing more to wish for now. 
 
 Smiles, kisses, and congratulations were 
 showered upon her, every one seemed to be so 
 glad for her ; and she thought it quite strange, 
 but very pleasant, that so many people who 
 did not know Jemmy should feel such an 
 interest in his good fortune. 
 
 And there was Maggie, dear, unselfish Mag- 
 gie, full of eager sympathy, and rejoicing in 
 her joy. 
 
 " My disappointment is quite made up in 
 this, Bessie," she said. " It makes so many
 
 334 Bessie at School. 
 
 more people happy than my having the dcsfe 
 would have done, and it will do Jemmy so 
 much good. And then you know Nellie does 
 not have half so many nice things as we do, 
 so it is better for her to have it. She has not 
 done being surprised yet : it was such a very 
 unexpected blow to her that she can hardly 
 believe it ; but she is so happy about it, I 
 couldn't help telling her I was glad for her." 
 
 " Little honey-bee, that takes all the sweet 
 and leaves all the bitter ! " said Colonel Rush, 
 as he drew Maggie fondly towards him. " But 
 what is our ' angel ' going to say to all this ? 
 I am afraid she will feel that the ( subject ' 
 has not met with proper consideration." 
 
 " The ' subject ' is too little to know now," 
 said sunshiny Maggie ; " and when she is 
 bigger we won't tell her any thing about it." 
 
 " Indeed we will," said the Colonel, pushing 
 back Maggie's curls from beneath the crown 
 of lilies. " I shall tell her the whole story." 
 
 " I wouldn't," said Maggie : " she might 
 have feelings about it."
 
 The Award. 335 
 
 " I hope she will, if they are of the proper 
 kind." said the Colonel, laughing ; " and I 
 should not be surprised if she had some opin- 
 ions to express even now." 
 
 Maggie wondered what he meant ; but just 
 then some of the children spoke to her, and 
 she forgot his words, to remember them an 
 other time. 
 
 The rest of the afternoon was spent in 
 amusing themselves in various ways ; the May 
 Queen being throned and carried in state 
 about house and garden ; but she proved 
 restive under this, and, as Kate said, " set a 
 very undignified example to her subjects," by 
 escaping from their hands, and insisting on 
 racing and jumping upon her own nimble 
 little feet. None who saw how joyous and 
 merry she was, how free from every selfish 
 thought and envious feeling, would have im- 
 agined that there had been a time when she 
 had been too anxious for this prize which had, 
 at last, fallen to another ; that she had said 
 and felt that she could never bear the disap-
 
 336 Bessie at School. 
 
 pointment of losing it. A contrast she was 
 to Gracie, certainly, who could enjoy none of 
 the pleasures offered to her because she had 
 not gained that on which she had set her 
 heart, looking, not for God's approval, but for 
 that of man, and her own honor and glory.
 
 XV. 
 
 A LETTER. 
 
 N Saturday, Mr. and Mrs. Bradford 
 drove out to Riverside, taking Mag 
 gie and Bessie with them. 
 
 So eager were the children to carry the 
 good news to Jemmy Bent and his mother, 
 that their parents thought it as well to go on 
 to the cottage by the creek at once ; knowing 
 that the little girls could take small thought 
 or enjoyment in any thing else till this busi- 
 ness was settled ; therefore James was told to 
 drive there first, instead of turning in at 
 Grandpapa Duncan's gate. 
 
 The cottage looked rather neater and more 
 comfortable than it did two years ago, when 
 Maggie and Bessie first went there to see 
 lame Jemmy. Mary was older and stronger 
 
 and could do more work, and it was her pride 
 22
 
 Bessie at School. 
 
 to keep things as tidy as, possible around her 
 brother. He looked quite at his ease, sitting 
 in his wheeled chair, which stood on the grass 
 plat in front of the little house ; and as the 
 carriage stopped at the gate, his pale face 
 lighted up with surprise and pleasure when he 
 saw whom it contained. A visit from any of 
 Mr. Bradford's or Mr. Duncan's family was 8 
 treat to Jemmy in more ways than one. 
 
 Mrs. Bent was at home, and asked the vis- 
 itors to step in ; but Mrs. Bradford said they 
 would rather stay outside for the few moments 
 they could remain. 
 
 After asking how Jemmy was feeling, and 
 how he enjoyed the lovely weather, Mr. Brad- 
 ford told for what purpose they had come ; to 
 bring to Jemmy the ticket of admission to the 
 hospital, with all its comforts, and the possi- 
 bility, even probability, of his being so far 
 cured as to enable him to walk with crutches 
 or a cane. 
 
 Maggie had imagined that Mrs. Bent and 
 her children would be overwhelmed with de-
 
 A Letter. 339 
 
 light and gratitude ; and had that morning 
 pleased herself and Bessie by describing the 
 scene which she supposed would take place. 
 
 " Their emotions will be quite too much for 
 them, Bessie," she had said ; " at least thej 
 ought to be, and I s'pose they will, for that's 
 always the way in things you read about. 
 They'll be so full of surprise and joy and 
 gratitude they won't know what to do with 
 themselves." 
 
 But to the astonishment and indignation 
 of both children, especially of Maggie, Mrs. 
 Bent's " emotions " took quite a different turn 
 from what they had expected. She burst into 
 tears, and wrung her hands, exclaiming, 
 " Oh ! sir, I never could, no, never could ! 
 To send my poor boy away from me ! Oh, 
 no, sir ! no, indeed ! And to one of them hos- 
 pitals too ! I'd never do it, not if I work 
 my fingers to the bone." 
 
 And Mary, seeing her mother so excited, 
 began to cry too at the thought of parting 
 with the brother who had been such a care
 
 34 Bessie a I School. 
 
 to her for so long ; while poor Jemmy, who 
 had felt grateful and pleased beyond measure 
 at the prospect of receiving such care and 
 help as would make him less helplessly crip- 
 pled than he was now, gazed at his mother in 
 dismay ; and our little girls stood looking on, 
 thoroughly crestfallen and disappointed at this 
 reception of their ofler. 
 
 " Mrs. Bent," said Mrs. Bradford, kindly, 
 u I know it seems hard for you to part from 
 your helpless boy, even for a time ; but surely 
 you will not refuse to let him go when you 
 think of the benefit it will be to him. Could 
 you not bear this lesser sorrow for the sake of 
 seeing Jemmy able to move about by him- 
 self ? You can see him now and then ; I will 
 myself take care that you have the means 
 to reach him ; and in a year or so, perhaps 
 less, he may come back to you, able to do 
 something for himself, it may be even to be 
 a help to you. I am sure he has the will for 
 that, if he had but the way and the strength. 
 Is it not so, Jemmy ? "
 
 A Letter. 341 
 
 Jemmy smiled, and put out his poor thin 
 hand gratefully to the lady ; then broke 
 forth, 
 
 " Oh ! mother, let me go, do let me go ! Oh ! 
 if you knew what it was to lie here ! I do try 
 to be patient, and I'm willing to stay so if the 
 Lord thinks it best ; but sure He's sent us 
 this hope, and you won't throw it away. Say 
 you won't, mother, and let me try ; and, oh ! 
 do thank the dear lady and gentleman and 
 the little ladies ! " 
 
 " Let me speak to you a moment, Mrs. 
 Bent," said Mr. Bradford ; and calling her 
 aside, he showed her all the advantage the place 
 would be to Jemmy, and soon talked her into 
 a more reasonable and gentle mood, while 
 Mrs. Bradford spoke cheerfully to Jemmy and 
 his sister of all the comforts and pleasures 
 which would be furnished for him in this 
 refuge for such poor crippled children as he. 
 
 No fear about Jemmy. He was eager enough 
 about it to satisfy the children, and Mary 
 too could not now be sufficiently grateful
 
 342 Bessie at School. 
 
 for the care and kindness offered to her 
 brother. 
 
 " You'll please to excuse me, ma'am," said 
 Mrs. Bent, coming back ; " and I see now it's 
 kindness itself in the dear little ladies that 
 have been such good friends to my boy from 
 the first, and a great blessing for him ; but at 
 the first, it seemed cruel like to send him from 
 me, and as if I was willing to be rid of him." 
 
 So it was talked of a little more, and the 
 arrangements made for moving Jemmy to the 
 hospital in a few days when the place would 
 be vacant and ready for him. By the time 
 this was done, Mrs. Bent could look at the 
 thing in its proper light, and was profuse 
 enough of thanks and blessings. But the first 
 impression was not readily done away with ; 
 and when they left, Bessie took her seat in 
 the carriage with a very sober face ; and Mag 
 gie, who was highly disgusted w?tl: Mrc. Bent, 
 broke forth with some opinions by LO means 
 complimentary to that good womn u 
 
 "Well," said Grandpapa Duncan, ^ en hf
 
 A Letter. 343 
 
 had heard all about the prizes, arid the visit to 
 Jem my. " I am sure our lame boy will say that 
 your going to school has been a great blessing 
 to him, since it has brought this about." 
 
 " Why, yes," said Maggie, thoughtfully, " so 
 it has. I'm sure I'd never have thought our 
 going to school could be of use to Jemmy. 
 Doesn't it seem queer, grandpapa? But it 
 was all Bessie. I'd never have earned that 
 prize." 
 
 " Yes, she would, grandpapa," said Bessie. 
 " Miss Kate told me so yesterday. She said 
 if they had not voted for me, all the large class 
 would have voted for Maggie, 'cause they 
 thought she was so true and good about Gra- 
 de's composition ; so I told Maggie this morn- 
 ing it was just as much her present to Jemmy 
 as mine. And we always like to be halves in 
 things, grandpapa. And I told Miss Kate, 
 Maggie deserved it more than me, 'cause I was 
 /ery tempted about the composition, and she 
 fas not oiie bit." 
 
 '* Sut she knew better than that, and I'm
 
 344 Bessie at School. 
 
 glad of it," said Maggie, with a decided nod of 
 her curly head. 
 
 " She didn't say so," replied her sister : 
 " she only said, ' Oh Bessie ! ' and just kissed 
 me." 
 
 "There's a letter and a large parcel for 
 Miss Maggie on the library-table," said Pat- 
 rick, when they reached home that afternoon. 
 
 " A letter for me ? Oh, lovely ! " said Mag- 
 gie ; and away she ran with Bessie after her, 
 both eager to see what the parcel contained, 
 and whom the letter was from. 
 
 The parcel was a large one, carefully 
 wrapped up, and the letter lay upon it. 
 
 " Why ! that's Uncle Horace's monogram ! 
 What can he be writing to me about when he 
 saw me yesterday, and will see me again to- 
 morrow ? I just expect this is another of his 
 lovely surprises, the dear, precious lamb ! " 
 said Maggie, who, provided an epithet came 
 handy, was not always particular as to how it 
 fitted. " Let's open the parcel first." 
 
 No sooner said than done ; and when opened,
 
 A Letter. 345 
 
 it was found to contain a rosewood writing- 
 desk, the very counterpart of the one given 
 yesterday by Mr. Ashton to Nellie Kansom. 
 The children at first took it to be the very 
 same. 
 
 " Why, it's Nellie's prize ! " exclaimed 
 Maggie. 
 
 " Was there a mistake about it, and did 
 they like your composition the best after all, 
 and send it to you, I wonder ? " said Bessie. 
 
 " If they did, I wouldn't take it now," said 
 Maggie : " it would be too mean to Nellie. But 
 let's see what Uncle Horace says." 
 
 The letter was quickly unsealed, and there 
 appeared a long line of verses. Maggie was 
 in too much of a hurry to try and make out 
 for herself Colonel Rush's rather illegible 
 handwriting, and she rushed with it to her 
 father. 
 
 " Papa, papa ! please read it for us. May 
 Bessie's name is at the end of all this lot of 
 po'try, but we know very well her papa made 
 it up ; and we are in such a hurry to know
 
 346 Bessie at School. 
 
 about the desk. Please read it for us right 
 away." 
 
 Papa took the letter, and read aloud the 
 following verses : 
 
 '' My dear cousin Maggie, for ' cousin ' you are, 
 Since your ' uncle ' and ' aunt ' my papa and mamma, 
 You will be much surprised when this letter you see, 
 To find that it comes from a ' subject ' like me. 
 
 "But papa and mamma I have heard 'Love is blind' 
 Declare I've a very remarkable mind ; 
 That I'm ' lovely ' and ' perfect,' I'm ' brilliant ' and ' wise, 
 That I'm really a ' wonderful child of her size.' 
 
 " Mamma sits by my cradle, and murmurs these things 
 In the pauses of all the sweet songs that she sings ; 
 While into the pillow I nestle my head, 
 And smile with approval at all that is said. 
 
 ' Then she says ' sister-angels are whispering to me.' 
 Who besides her sweet self? for papa it can't be , 
 No ' angel ' is he. I can't quite make him out. 
 Of mamma and myself, you'll perceive, I've no doubt. 
 
 ' Your prize composition, / think very fine, 
 And I'm a good judge, you'll allow, Maggie mine : 
 Your ' subject ' well chosen ; ideas well expressed , 
 To my baby-notions 'tis clearly the best.
 
 A Letter. 347 
 
 ' But on one point, dear Maggie, you make a mistake ; 
 Your faith in my father I rudely must shake. 
 You call this same soldier, the ' bravest of braves,' 
 Now listen, and hear how this Colonel behaves. 
 
 * Whene'er I determine to take a good cry, 
 A most innocent treat when no strangers are nigh, 
 Why ! what does this hero of so many fields, 
 But snatch up his cane, and then take to his heela. 
 
 " ' What a coward ! ' you'll say. Yes, indeed, 'tis moit 
 
 strange ; 
 
 For whene'er I do cry, it is but for a change ; 
 One cannot be cooing and smiling all day, 
 Sometimes I have tried that, but find it don't pay. 
 
 " But one thing, dear Maggie, you've made very clear, 
 That I am ' an angel ' doth plainly appear ; 
 Then mamma says the same, and I know you're both 
 
 true: 
 I believe it myself, between me and you. 
 
 " Excuse my bad grammar, I must make the rhyme, 
 I'll do better some day, if you'll but give me time ; 
 And as for my manners, I'm sure that I mean 
 Not the least disrespect to our little May Queen. 
 
 " Yes, I fully believe such a ' treasure' as I 
 Must have flown from some spot very near to the sky ; 
 And I know gentle spirits do whisper to me, 
 And teach me sweet lessons of what I must be.
 
 348 Bessie at School. 
 
 " They tell me I must be a good little child, 
 A baby obedient, patient and mild ; 
 They tell me to love all the good and the true, 
 And therefore, dear Maggie, I have to love you 
 
 " And Bessie, the darling ! she, too, has some claims 
 For her own precious sake, to say nothing of names 
 My own sweet ' ersample ' she says she will be : 
 They tell me to profit by what I may see. 
 
 But now let's to business. I think you approve 
 Of doing kind ' favors ' for those whom we love ; 
 And if they deserve it, why, so much the better, 
 For here is the gist of this wonderful letter. 
 
 ' I must own, my dear cousin, I thought it a shame 
 This prize for fine writing fell not to your name. 
 In the judge's decision, I can't quite agree, 
 So, dear little maiden, it seemeth to me 
 
 " That your ' subject ' herself should do what she can ; 
 And after some thought, I have hit on this plan : 
 To send you this prize for the story you tell 
 Of the ' angel ' who loves you so truly and well. 
 
 " But remember, my darling, you always will find 
 That a heart that is generous, truthful, and kind, 
 Where self and deceit and envyings hard 
 No entrance can find, is its own best reward 
 
 "And the smile of the Shepherd, who dwells up above, 
 And watches His lambs with the tenderest love, 
 Will always be ours when the victory we win, 
 By the help of His grace in the conflict with sin.
 
 A Letter. 349 
 
 " And now this long letter I'll bring to a close, 
 The thought it has cost me, oh, nobody knows ! 
 With much love to yourself, and to Bessie the same, 
 I'll say no more, Maggie, but just sign my name. 
 
 *' Your ' subject/ MAT BESSIE " 
 
 Maggie went into ecstasies of delight over 
 this letter, as well as over the beautiful gift 
 which accompanied it ; but Bessie, although 
 she shared to the full her sister's pleasure in 
 the latter, could not be persuaded to say she 
 thought the verses so very fine. 
 
 " Why, what's the matter with it ? " said 
 Maggie. " I think it's lovely." 
 
 " I don't think it's so very nice," answered 
 Bessie, gravely regarding the letter with an 
 air of comic displeasure. 
 
 " Well," said Maggie, " maybe it's not a; 
 very po'try, but it jingle-jangles so nicely. I 
 wish you would like it." 
 
 " I do like what it says about you and May 
 Bessie," said Bessie ; " but it's not nice about 
 my soldier at all. He's not a coward." 
 
 "Oh! that's only for fun," said Maggie,
 
 350 Bessie at School. 
 
 " You know that it's only pretend that May 
 Bessie wrote it. The Colonel did it himself; 
 and he always does run away when the baby 
 cries." 
 
 " Yes," said matter-of-fact Bessie, half un- 
 willing to admit even so much against her 
 hero ; " but that does not make him a coward. 
 But, Maggie darling, I couldn't speak about 
 how glad I am that this very lovely surprise 
 has come to you. And I think this is better 
 than if you had the real prize in school." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! a great deal better," said Mag- 
 gie. " Mr. Ashton is very good and kind ; 
 but then he is not any one of ours, and it's a 
 great deal more pleasure to have a prize from 
 our own May Bessie than from him. And 
 besides, Bessie, I don't know how I could 
 have walked up, and taken it before all those 
 people. Sometimes, I thought I would almost 
 rather not have the prize than do that." 
 
 But if the letter was not altogether to Bes- 
 sie's satisfaction, the desk certainly proved 
 so ; and it was long before she and Maggie
 
 A Letter. 351 
 
 tired of examining it and its complete fitting 
 out. The first use Maggie made of it, was to 
 answer May 'Bessie's letter, which she did in 
 rhyme, rather halting rhyme it was now and 
 then to be sure ; but she and Bessie were sat- 
 isfied that it was a gem of poetry ; and as the 
 baby found no fault with it, we must take it 
 for granted that she thought so also. 
 
 It was delightful, too, to see how pleased all 
 the school-girls, large and small, were to hear 
 of Maggie's good fortune, and to read the let- 
 ter from May Bessie, which she permitted 
 them all to see". 
 
 " Miss Kate," said Maggie, looking up into 
 the laughing eyes which were no longer a 
 terror to her, " it's very kind of you to be so 
 glad for me." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " said Kate. " I am 
 truly glad for you, Maggie. We are better 
 friends than we used to be, are we not ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " said Maggie ; " partly 'cause 
 I'm not so shy as I used to be, and partly 
 'cause you have improved a good deal in
 
 352 Bessie at School. 
 
 doing unto others. You do not tease half 
 as much as you used to, Miss Kate." 
 
 " Thank you for the compliment," said 
 Kate, laughing, and tossing Maggie's long 
 curls about her face till they covered it as 
 with a veil. 
 
 " Maybe Miss Kate wanted the best girl 
 prize, and knew she would not have any 
 chance if she teased so much," said Belle. 
 
 " Much chance I'd have of ' the best girl 
 prize,' as you call it,"' said Kate. " No, Belle : 
 I never set myself up for that." 
 
 " But you ought, oughtn't you ? " said Belle, 
 with solemn gravity. 
 
 " Ought what ? " asked Kate. " To be the 
 best girl in the school ? " 
 
 " No," answered the child ; " but to try to 
 be." 
 
 " And take the prize from your Bessie ! " 
 said Kate, pretending to be shocked at the idea 
 
 " No," said Belle, who sometimes presumed 
 on being a privileged character, and said things 
 to the older girls which none of the other little
 
 A Letter. 353 
 
 ones would have dared to say. "No, Miss 
 Kate, I don't think there's goodness enough 
 in you for that. But you might try to be the 
 best that you could." 
 
 " What would be the good when there was 
 no chance of the prize ? " asked Kate, much 
 amused. 
 
 " To please Jesus," said Belle. " Bessie's 
 mamma told us about that that time I lived 
 there while papa was away. She said we 
 must only try to do the thing that was right, 
 'cause it was right, no matter what people 
 thought of us ; not to try to be or to do the 
 best so as to be rewarded." 
 
 "Well done, little Belle," said Fanny 
 Berry ; " how nicely you have remembered 
 and repeated your lesson ! " 
 
 " But I didn't always remember to do it," 
 said Belle ; " not that time I climbed on Hie 
 wall. I made believe in my heart I was not 
 doing any thing naughty ; but myself knew I 
 was, and God knew I was too ; and so He 
 gave me good enough for me." 
 28
 
 354 Bessie at School. 
 
 The girls laughed. 
 
 " Bessie always keeps the truf in her 
 heart," said Belle, looking fondly after her 
 little friend who had run into the other room 
 to tell Miss Ashton about Maggie's gift ; " and 
 I think that's the reason she always keeps it 
 in her living." 
 
 " Yes," said Julia Grafton ; " that is it." 
 
 " I think we've all improved a little over 
 these prizes," said Maggie. 
 
 " 'Cept only Grade," said Belle ; " she's 
 dis-improved very much. She is not half so 
 nice as she used to be." 
 
 " But we won't remember the faults of 
 others now," said Miss Ashton, who just then 
 came back with Bessie to congratulate Maggie. 
 " I am glad to say that I think more good 
 than harm has come from these prizes, though 
 [ feared at first it might be the contrary. I 
 think with Maggie that almost all have im- 
 proved, some in one way, some in another. 
 Lessons have been learned by us, which were 
 not learned in books ; and I am thankful
 
 A Letter. 355 
 
 that little, if any, jealousy, unkindness, or hard 
 feeling has arisen among you ; and that a true 
 generosity and willingness for the success of 
 others have been shown in more than one in- 
 stance. I was a little doubtful of the plan 
 when my uncle first proposed it ; but it has 
 really been of service in more ways than 
 one." 
 
 " Mamma said it would do us no harm to 
 try for those things, if we did not let ourselves 
 become too anxious," said Maggie. 
 
 " No," said Miss Ashton, " not so long as 
 we do so from a right motive, and remember 
 that the praise of God is more to be desired 
 than the praise of man: He has said 
 1 those that honor Him, He will honor ; ' 
 and I think we have proved it BO here in 
 school." 
 
 This was the last day of school for our 
 Maggie and Bessie ; and sorry as they were to 
 leave their kind teachers and pleasant com- 
 panions, they were delighted at the thought of 
 all the pleasure promised to them this coming
 
 356 Bessie at School. 
 
 summer, and at the hope of having mamma 
 give them lessons again in the fall. 
 
 They were first to spend a few days at 
 Riverside, going there with Uncle Ruthven 
 and Aunt Bessie ; and a little later were to 
 travel with papa and mamma, winding up the 
 summer at dear old Chalecoo, where they had 
 already passed one such pleasant season. 
 Such visions of wonder and delight danced 
 before their minds ; such " adventures " as 
 Maggie expected to meet with, furnishing 
 " subjects " for endless compositions, to say 
 nothing of the continued history of the 
 " Complete Family ; " such plans for the help 
 and comfort of dear mamma, who had said she 
 was sure this trip, undertaken for her good, 
 would be of a great deal more service to her 
 if she were allowed to have her little girls 
 with her ; such letters as they were to write 
 to console those who were left behind ; why, 
 there was no end to them all ; and fast as the 
 little tongues were accustomed to chatter, 
 Maggie declared that the days were not half
 
 A Letter. 35) 
 
 long enough for all the thinking and talking 
 they had to do now. 
 
 And now, like their schoolmates, we must 
 say good-by to Maggie and Bessie ; and J 
 hope you have found that earning her prize 
 was not the only or the holiest work for her 
 Master done by our Bessie at School.