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THE STORY OF 
 
 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 BY 
 
 M. CHARLES JEANNEL, 
 
 PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF POITIERS 
 
 My little children, love one another."— St. John, c. 18. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH 
 
 BY F. G. SKINNER. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 D. APPLETON & COMPANY, 200 BROADWAY, 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 GEO. S. APPLETON, 164 CHESNUT-STREET. 
 
 M DCCC XLIX. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1848, 
 
 By D. APPLETON & COMPANY, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 
 
 District of New York. 
 
DEDICATION 
 
 TO 
 
 AMERICAN MOTHERS. 
 
 The volume here presented is respectfully recom- 
 mended for your own use, in the education of your 
 children at the critical age when the mind is most 
 susceptible of lasting impressions, and when the char- 
 acter, as it may be said, is taking its bent for life. 
 
 Happy and fortunate for them, they are yet gener- 
 ally under the care and vigilance of the mother, to 
 whom every benevolent heart will desire to give all 
 possible " aid and comfort" in the performance of an 
 office the most important for the well-being of so- 
 ciety ! 
 
 Under the simple title of Little- John, a foundling, 
 this work has been so prepared, by a scholar of emi- 
 nent learning and piety, in reference both to style and 
 topics as that, while your children are learning to 
 read even at the tenderest age, their minds will be 
 impressed with useful knowledge, and the soundest 
 principles of morality and virtue. 
 
 1* 
 
DEDICATION TO AMERICAN MOTHERS. 
 
 With these true objects of a sound education con- 
 stantly in view, the accomplished author has employed 
 original fables to amuse, and biographical sketches, 
 drawn chiefly from Scripture, of men and women 
 distinguished for wisdom and piety. 
 
 The work was originally published only last year, 
 and being sent to me from Paris, has been translated 
 by my son, F. G. Skinner, at my suggestion, for the 
 benefit of his own children ; and is now offered to all 
 American mothers, in the persuasion of its remarkable 
 adaptation to the ends, and to children of the age here 
 mentioned. 
 
 In that belief I humbly venture to recommend to 
 you the story of Little-John, as peculiarly fitted at 
 once to amuse and instruct — " to wake the genius and 
 to mend the heart." 
 
 F. S. Skinner. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE. 
 
 I.— Discovery of Little- John . 9 
 
 II.— Early Education of Little- John 12 
 
 III.— A Quarrel 14 
 
 IV.— History of Joseph. 16 
 
 V.— Bread 24 
 
 VI.— Dreams 29 
 
 VII.— History of Moses 32 
 
 VIII.-Labor 37 
 
 IX.— The Crow and the Cat-Bird— Fable 38 
 
 X.— The Farmer and his Children— Fable 41 
 
 XL— Story of Ruth 42 
 
 XII— Alms 46 
 
 XIII.— Theft 49 
 
 XI V— Uncle Tom 53 
 
 XV.— The Mill 54 
 
 XVI— The Respect due to Old Age 57 
 
 XVII -The Blind Man's Stick 60 
 
 XVIII— Story of David. 62 
 
 XIX.-The Sabbath 66 
 
 XX— Story of Joash 67 
 
 XXL— The Swallow's Nest 71 
 
 XXII.— Houses 78 
 
 XXIII.— Ghosts 83 
 
 XXIV.-StoryofTobit 87 
 
 XXV— Filial Piety 94 
 
 XXVL-Iron 96 
 
 XXVIL— The Lamb 100 
 
 XXVIII.-Rain 102 
 
 XXIX.— The Burnt-House 106 
 
 XXX— Christmas Ill 
 
 XXXI. -Snow 115 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE. 
 
 XXXII.-The Fagot of Wood 120 
 
 Story of Naboth 122 
 
 XXXIII.-The Half-Dollar 125 
 
 Story of Ananias and Sapphira 127 
 
 XXXIV.-Story of Eleazer 131 
 
 XXXV— Clothing 133 
 
 XXXVI.— The Fight 138 
 
 XXXVII.— The Maccabees 142 
 
 XXXVIII.-General Washington 149 
 
 XXXIX— Sailing in a Boat 153 
 
 XL— The Sun 155 
 
 XLI— The Storm 169 
 
 XLII— Thunder 173 
 
 XLIII.— The Conflagration 177 
 
 XLIV— Water 181 
 
 XLV.— Insects 184 
 
 XLVI.— Benjamin Franklin ]91 
 
 XLVIL— Death of Margaret 194 
 
 XL VIII.— End of Little- John's History 197 
 
LITTLE-JOHN, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 DISCOVERY OF LITTLE- JOHN. 
 
 Little Louisa went out one morning very early 
 to get some milk at a farmer's house that was near 
 the village. Louisa was an obedient child, and when 
 her grandmother told her to do any thing, she not 
 only did it cheerfully and quietly, but as well as she 
 knew how. As the good Margaret the day before 
 had told her to go very early for the milk, she had 
 gotten up before the sun, had dressed herself all alone, 
 and had slipped out very quietly, for fear of disturb- 
 ing the good old woman, who was still asleep. 
 
 The weather was fine, the sky was blue, and the 
 air sweet and fresh ; the rising sun was just gilding 
 the spire of the village church, and the tops of the 
 tallest trees. Louisa was skipping joyously upon the 
 flowering grass, carrying in her hand a tin bucket 
 which she always kept scoured as bright as silver. 
 All at once, as she passed the church door, she re- 
 membered that she had not said her prayers. 
 
10 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 She knew that it was wrong ever to commence 
 the day without first praying to God ; God, that kind 
 indulgent father, who takes care of us and gives us 
 every thing that we require. She knew, too, that 
 God loves little children that pray with all their 
 hearts ; that he watches over and protects them 
 night and day ; and that he blesses their parents on 
 their account. She turned aside then into the grave- 
 yard, and kneeling beneath a tree, said her prayers 
 aloud, pronouncing each word distinctly, as her grand- 
 mother had taught her. As she was rising from her 
 knees, she heard quite near her a low cry : she turned, 
 and perceived something white, partly concealed by 
 the branches of a weeping-willow. Stepping to the 
 spot, and putting aside the high weeds, she was sur- 
 prised to see a little child lying in a basket. The poor 
 little fellow had just awoke, and was crying for his 
 mother. Louisa felt his little hands — they were very 
 cold ; and his frock was damp with dew. When, how- 
 ever, he saw Louisa's pretty little face near him, he 
 ceased crying, and stretched out his little hands to 
 her. 
 
 " Poor little fellow," said she, " where is your mo- 
 ther?" 
 
 But the child could not answer her. All he could 
 say was, " Ma ! ma !" and two or three other words 
 that Louisa could not understand. She tried to lift 
 him up — he was very heavy ; she succeeded, how- 
 ever, in getting him out of the basket, and with a good 
 
LITTLE- JOHN. 11 
 
 deal of trouble carried him to her grandmother's cot- 
 tage, that was not far from the church. 
 
 Margaret was very much astonished to see the little 
 fellow. She took off his wet clothes, and wrapped 
 him up in a warm blanket, and gave him some break- 
 fast ; then she went all over the village to endeavor 
 to find out whose child he was, but she could learn 
 nothing about him ; whereupon she returned home, 
 and said to her grand-daughter — 
 
 " Louisa, this is a brother that God has sent you. 
 As the poor child's parents cannot be found, it seems 
 to be God's will that we should take care of him. I 
 was already an old and infirm woman, when your poor 
 mother died, and you were but a few months old. I 
 thought that I never should be able to take care of 
 you, and to labor for your support and my own ; but 
 with God's help I succeeded. Now you are quite a 
 tall girl ; you will help me to take care of this poor 
 orphan, and heaven will bless us for his sake." 
 
 Little Louisa was delighted, and commenced at once 
 to call the child her dear little brother. 
 
 Old Margaret had him christened Little-John, 
 after a son of hers that she had lost. 
 
12 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 EARLY EDUCATION OF LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 Little-John was reared in Margaret's cottage. 
 Louisa nursed him like a kind and affectionate sister. 
 At bedtime she sat near his cradle, and sang him to 
 sleep. When he was awake, she had a thousand little 
 ways of amusing him : when he cried, she knew how 
 to quiet him ; when she had cake or fruit, she shared 
 it with him. She taught him not only to stand alone, 
 and to walk, but every thing else that a child of his 
 age could learn. The little fellow grew apace, and 
 was healthy, robust, and very intelligent for his age. 
 He was as gay and lively as a little bird, fond of talk- 
 ing, and constantly asking questions about things that 
 he did not understand. When spring came, Little- John 
 was delighted : the green landscape, the flowers, the 
 trees covered with young leaves, the singing birds, the 
 clear sky, the brilliant sun, every thing seemed new, 
 and filled him with ardor and gayety. He ran about 
 the fields, and jumped and rolled upon the grass like 
 the little lambs that let him come close to them with- 
 out being frightened ; he gathered beautiful flowers, 
 that he tied in bunches for Louisa and her grandmo- 
 ther, and then he would ask questions without end : 
 " Who made the sun ? what is it good for ? who made 
 the sheep, the trees, the birds ? why is there so much 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 13 
 
 grass in the fields ?" and a hundred other such ques- 
 tions. The good old Margaret would reply to him — 
 " My child, God made all these things : the sun, the 
 earth, the woods, the meadows, the mountains, the 
 trees, all the plants, all the animals, all are his works. 
 He made ourselves, and the other things for us. The 
 sun gives us light and warms us ; the earth pro- 
 duces all the plants that we eat, and that the animals 
 eat. The animals themselves are useful to us in many 
 ways. A great many are valuable either as food or 
 on account of their skins and furs. As to us, God 
 gave us our bodies : he himself made our limbs, our 
 hands, our eyes, our mouths, our feet ; but with this 
 he gave us a soul that thinks, which he did not do for 
 any other creature. This soul is capable of knowing 
 
 2 
 
14 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 God, of loving and adoring him ; and it is for this 
 that he created us. So most of the things that are in 
 the world were created for us ; but we were created 
 for God." 
 
 When Little- John heard all this, he loved our Heav- 
 enly Father with all his heart. He learned to say his 
 prayers, and to thank God each day, for all the good 
 things that he had given us ; and whenever he was 
 doing any thing wrong, they had but to tell him that 
 it was displeasing to God, and he stopped imme- 
 diately. 
 
 Little Louisa told him that God loved children that 
 were good, and obedient to their parents. Ever after 
 he did all he could to please old Margaret, and even 
 tried to guess what she wished, that he might do it 
 before she asked him. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A QUARREL. 
 
 Though Little-John tried to be a good boy, he had 
 some faults. He was passionate — too quick to an- 
 ger ; and when he met a little boy that he did not like, 
 he was very apt to quarrel with and fight him. 
 
 One day his grandmother sent him to a neighbor's 
 with a basket of apples. As he was going along he 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 15 
 
 met a bad boy, who struck him, and knocked the bas- 
 ket of apples over into the mud. As the boy was 
 twice as strong as John, and twice as old, John ran 
 home, but he was furious. He walked up and down 
 the room, doubling his fists, and saying, " I won't al- 
 ways be small : I'll grow big ! I'll let the rascal see ! 
 I'll pay him for it !" 
 
 Louisa, when she understood what was the matter, 
 took his hand, and said to him in her mild voice — 
 
 " Little-John, we must not revenge ourselves ; did 
 you not hear grandma Margaret say, that we must 
 always return good for evil ?" 
 
 " But," replied Little- John, " what did he hit me first 
 for ? I was not troubling him. Never mind, when I 
 get big I'll pay him for it !" 
 
 " Don't talk so, John," said Louisa, trying to con- 
 sole him ; "because that boy behaved badly, must you 
 do so too ? Don't you know that God will punish the 
 wicked, and that he will reward us if we are good ? 
 Don't do as the wicked do, for there is never any 
 pleasure in doing wrong. Remember how happy you 
 were the day you gave your breakfast to that poor 
 boy, whose mother had no bread to give him ; do you 
 think you would have been any happier if you had 
 beaten the worst boy in the village ?" 
 
 Little-John did not say any thing, but he still pout- 
 ed, and looked vexed. 
 
 " Come and sit down here," added Louisa ; " while 
 I am at work I will tell you a pretty story." 
 
16 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 As Little-John was very fond of stories, he made 
 haste to take a seat, and she commenced the story of 
 Joseph. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HISTORY OF JOSEPH. 
 
 " There was a good old man named Jacob ; he had 
 twelve children ; the youngest was named Benjamin, 
 and the next to the youngest, Joseph. This little Jo- 
 seph was so gentle, so good, and so obedient, that his 
 father loved him very dearly, and gave him a beautiful 
 coat of many colors. His brothers, who were very 
 wicked, became jealous of him. One day Joseph saw 
 them doing something wrong, and told his father of it : 
 he reproved them for it, but instead of minding what 
 their father told them, they got very angry with Jo- 
 seph. 
 
 " One day his father said to him, 'My son, your bro- 
 thers are a long way off in the fields minding the 
 flocks, you must go and see how they all come on.' 
 As Joseph was very obedient, he set out immediately 
 to do what his father told him. As soon as his brothers 
 saw him coming, they said to each other, ' There is 
 Joseph coming, let us kill him/ But one of them, not 
 so wicked as the others, and who wanted to save him, 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 17 
 
 said to them, ' Don't let us kill him, we had better 
 throw him in that deep hole yonder.' All the brothers 
 agreed to it, and accordingly seized Joseph, took off 
 his coat, and threw him into a deep hole half full of 
 mud and water. After that they began to eat, and 
 while they were eating, they saw some merchants go- 
 ing by, who bought and sold slaves. They then pulled 
 Joseph out of the hole in which they had thrown him, 
 and sold him to the slave-dealers. They next killed a 
 kid, sprinkled the blood all over Joseph's coat, and 
 sent it to their father with a message, stating that they 
 had found the coat all bloody, and inquiring if it did 
 not belong to Joseph. As soon as Jacob saw the coat 
 he recognised it, and threw himself down, crying out, 
 all in tears, ' My poor Joseph ! some cruel wild beast 
 has devoured my son !' and poor old Jacob mourned 
 for his son for a long time, thinking he was dead. 
 
 " In the mean time, the merchants that had bought 
 Joseph carried him away to a country very far off, 
 called Egypt. There they sold him to a great man of 
 the country, named Potiphar. This man took a great 
 liking to Joseph, and made him his head servant, put- 
 ting him over all the others ; but Potiphar's wife was 
 a very bad woman, and told her husband so many sto- 
 ries on Joseph, that the poor fellow was put in prison. 
 Joseph was very unhappy— far away from home, hav- 
 ing neither relations nor friends to console him ; but 
 his father had taught him to pray to God, and he knew 
 that God always hears those of his children that call 
 
 2* 
 
18 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 on him in affliction. So Joseph put his trust in God, 
 and God descended into his prison and comforted 
 him. 
 
 " God caused the jailer to love Joseph, and he em- 
 ployed him in carrying the prisoners their food. It 
 happened that among them were two officers of the 
 king of Egypt, whom Joseph visited as he did the oth- 
 ers. One morning he found them sorrowful, because 
 they had had dreams in the night that made them very 
 uneasy. God enabled Joseph to tell them w T hat these 
 dreams meant. He told one of them that he would 
 soon be put to death, and the other that the king would 
 pardon him, and let him out of prison in three days ; 
 and it happened just as he had told them. 
 
 " Some time after this the king of Egypt, who was 
 named Pharaoh, had a strange dream himself, that no- 
 body could explain. The officer who had been in jail 
 with Joseph then thought of his dream, spoke to the 
 king about it, and the king ordered Joseph to be 
 brought before him. Joseph was accordingly taken 
 out of prison, dressed in a suit of fine clothes, and ap- 
 peared before the king. God again enabled him to 
 understand the meaning of the king's dream. He told 
 the king that for seven years there would be a great 
 deal more grain raised than would be used ; and that 
 for the next seven the harvest would fail entirely, and 
 the people be in great danger of starving. Pha- 
 raoh asked him if there would be no means of pre- 
 venting this misfortune ? Joseph replied : ' Choose, 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 19 
 
 O King, a wise and prudent man ; give him great au- 
 thority throughout your whole kingdom, so that he 
 may be able during the seven years of abundance to 
 collect and put away sufficient grain to feed the peo- 
 ple during the seven years of scarcity.' The king 
 thought Joseph's advice very good, and said to him, 
 ' You yourself are that wise and prudent man, and I 
 choose you to rule my people ;' at the same time he 
 took off his gold ring, put it on Joseph's finger, and 
 made him sit on a throne near his own ; and he gave 
 Joseph a fine house, servants to wait on him, horses, 
 carriages, and all kinds of riches, and he became the 
 greatest man in Egypt next to the king. 
 
 "Joseph ordered granaries and storehouses to be 
 built, and for seven years laid in enormous supplies 
 of grain. At the end of this time the corn and wheat 
 crops began to fail, not only in Egypt, but throughout 
 the whole world. Jacob having no longer any bread 
 to feed his children, called them to him, and said : ' I 
 have heard that there is in Egypt a very wise and a 
 very powerful governor, who has a great quantity of 
 grain for sale ; get ready, my children, go to this man, 
 and buy as much as we are in need of.' 
 
 "Jacob's sons all set out for Egypt ; and when they 
 got there, they appeared before Joseph, who was so 
 much changed since his brothers had seen him that 
 they did not know him ; but Joseph knew them at 
 once : he said nothing, however, for he wanted to 
 know what had become of his father and his little 
 
20 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 brother Benjamin, and he wanted also to know, if his 
 brothers were as wicked as ever. 
 
 " He pretended to take them for bad people with 
 evil intentions ; he spoke to them with severity, and 
 threatened to put them in prison. Jacob's children 
 were very much frightened. They said to each other, 
 in their own language, which they thought no one about 
 them understood, ' God is punishing us now for the 
 wrong we did our brother Joseph. Do you remem- 
 ber how cruel we were, when he begged us with tears 
 in his eyes not to sell him, and we would not listen to 
 him? Now God will refuse to hear our prayers.' 
 Joseph hearing them talk in this manner, could not 
 help crying, and went out to hide his tears. He had 
 them put in jail for three days : he then told them to 
 return to their father's, and that he would stilt keep 
 one of them a prisoner until they returned to him with 
 their youngest brother ; at the same time he ordered 
 his people to let them have the grain they came for, 
 but to conceal the money that they paid for it in their 
 bags. He gave them also provisions for their jour- 
 ney, and they set out on their return. When they 
 got home they found their money in their bags with 
 the grain. 'My children,' said Jacob, 'there seems 
 to be some mistake about this money ; you must take 
 great care of it, and return it to the governor of Egypt, 
 for it is his, and not ours.' Then his children told him 
 all that had happened to them, and when he under- 
 stood that one of them had been detained until they 
 
LITTLE- JOHN. 21 
 
 took back Benjamin, he was very much grieved, say- 
 ing, that Joseph was dead, Simeon a prisoner, and 
 that now they wanted to take away Benjamin ; that 
 they wished to deprive him of all his children. For 
 some time he would not let Benjamin go, for fear of 
 his meeting with some accident. 
 
 " However, after awhile bread began to get scarce 
 again, and his sons begged so earnestly to let Benja- 
 min go with them, that he at last consented, on their 
 promising to take great care of him. 
 
 " The first thing they did, on their arrival in Egypt, 
 was to return the money that they had found in their 
 bags ; but Joseph's officers would not take it back. 
 They then presented themselves to Joseph. As soon 
 as he saw his little brother Benjamin, he felt his heart 
 moved, and had to withdraw to conceal his tears. He 
 had a fine dinner prepared for his brothers, but Ben- 
 jamin had five times as many good things as the others. 
 After that, he ordered the officers to give them the 
 grain, and to do with the money just as they had done 
 before ; and he told them to take his cup, without say« 
 ing any thing about it, and put it in Benjamin's bag. 
 This cup was one of the most beautiful goblets ever 
 seen — made of silver and gold — that Joseph was in 
 the habit of using himself. 
 
 "They were no sooner gone than the officers pursued, 
 overtook, and accused them of robbing their master. 
 Jacob's sons replied : ' We have not been guilty of so 
 mean an action. Look for yourselves, search our 
 
22 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 things, and if you find that one of us is guilty, you may 
 kill him, and make us slaves.' The officers soon found 
 the cup in Benjamin's wallet. They carried him off 
 immediately; and his brothers, very much surprised 
 and deeply afflicted, returned with him to the govern- 
 or's. 
 
 "As soon as they saw Joseph, they threw themselves 
 at his feet, saying : ' We implore you not to do any 
 harm to that child. Do not put him in prison, for 
 should we return to our country without him, our poor 
 old father would die of sorrow.' One of them, par- 
 ticularly, named Juda, cried out : ' Take me — let me 
 die in his place, for our father confided him to my 
 care.' Joseph, hearing them talk in this way, could 
 no longer conceal himself. Deeply moved, he cried 
 out : ' I am Joseph : is my father still alive ?' At these 
 words the brothers were seized with astonishment and 
 fright, thinking that he was about to put them to death. 
 But Joseph stretched out his arms to them, and said, 
 in a mild voice, ' Come, fear nothing — I forgive you ;' 
 and he kissed them all with great tenderness. He 
 calmed and consoled them, and promised to do them 
 all the good in his power. 
 
 " When old Jacob learned that his son Joseph was 
 still alive, he would not believe it ; but when he saw 
 the presents that had been given to his sons, and the 
 carriages and horses that had been sent to bring him 
 and all his household, he turned his heart to God, and 
 thanked him for allowing him to live to enjoy so much 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 23 
 
 happiness; and when he arrived in Egypt, he was 
 near dying of joy in embracing his son Joseph. 
 
 " The king of Egypt gave Jacob a splendid estate, 
 and Joseph continued to do good to his brothers as 
 long as he lived. 
 
 "You see, Little- John," said Louisa, as she ended 
 her story, " though all this happened more than three 
 thousand years ago, people still talk of Joseph, and 
 how good and generous he was in thus forgiving his 
 wicked brothers. Do you think he w r ould have de- 
 served as much praise if he had revenged himself on 
 them, and had done them as much harm as they did 
 him ? And do you not feel how happy Joseph must 
 have been when he kissed his brothers, and saw them 
 so sorry for what they had done ?" Little- John agreed 
 with her, and thought Joseph's a beautiful story, and 
 then he asked her a great many questions about it. 
 
24 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 BREAD. 
 
 The same evening, when old Margaret had seated 
 herself at the spining- wheel, and Louisa had taken up 
 her sewing, Little-John, after playing about, took a 
 seat near his grandmother, and they had the following 
 conversation. 
 
 Little-John. That is a very pretty story, grandma, 
 about Joseph; but there is one thing in it I don't un- 
 derstand ; it seems to me that instead of grain, Jacob 
 ought to have taken bread, for we don't eat grain, we 
 eat bread. 
 
 Margaret. Tell me, Little- John, what do they make 
 bread of? 
 
 Little- John. Bread ! why, the baker makes bread. 
 
 Margaret. I don't ask you who makes bread, but 
 what it is made of. 
 
 Little-John. Now, indeed, grandma, I don't know, 
 for I have never thought about it ; I suppose though it 
 must be with grain, as Jacob sent to buy grain during 
 the famine ; but please tell me how it is made, for if a 
 stranger were to ask me, I should be ashamed not to 
 know. 
 
 Margaret. You would have reason to be ashamed, 
 my child ; there are some things that we ought to learn 
 of ourselves, merely by reflecting upon what we see, 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 25 
 
 and to be ignorant of such things shows that we do 
 not think. This time, however, I will aid you to find 
 out how bread is made. You have seen ploughs in the 
 field — large pieces of iron with a long piece of wood 
 on the top, and handles to it ; the iron is called the 
 mould-board, and the long piece of wood, the beam ; 
 the plough is drawn by horses or oxen hitched to the 
 end of the beam, and guided by the ploughman holding 
 the handles. 
 
 Little- John. Yes, grandma, I have often seen ploughs, 
 but I never thought of looking to see how they were 
 made. I have often amused myself, sitting on the 
 fence, looking at the ploughman going backwards and 
 forwards through the field, turning up the earth, but I 
 never thought much about it. 
 
 Margaret. With the plough we stir the earth and 
 turn it up to the air and light, for without these, it would 
 scarcely produce any thing ; and it is only after hav- 
 ing worked it several times and covered it with ma- 
 nure, that a field can become fertile ; for man must 
 earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. When the 
 earth has been well worked and well manured, the 
 seed is sown upon it and covered up by means of a 
 large rake, drawn by horses, called a harrow. Then, 
 John, a wonderful thing occurs, which is the work of 
 God alone, and which the wisest men know little more 
 about than we do ; by means of the heat and moisture 
 this seed, covered with earth, soon swells and gets 
 soft. In eight or ten days it bursts, and a small root 
 3 
 
26 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 descends into the earth and a small stalk comes up at 
 the surface. The seed does not rot, as one would sup- 
 pose. As it softens, it changes into a juice which is 
 the first food, the milk as it were, of the young plant. 
 After, as the plant becomes stronger, it finds in the 
 earth and the air the food that it requires. The spring 
 rains make it grow very rapidly — the earth is then cov- 
 ered with verdure ; but as the heat of the sun increases, 
 the stalks turn yellow, each grain produces one or more 
 heads, which in some become of a beautiful golden 
 color, as you have seen it in the fields at harvest. 
 Each head contains thirty, forty, fifty, or more grains, 
 so that by sowing a bushel of seed, we may sometimes 
 gather twenty, thirty, forty, fifty bushels. But as a great 
 deal of the seed is often devoured by birds and insects, 
 we should be satisfied to gather twenty or thirty times 
 as much as w T e sow. Thus you see, Little-John, God's 
 providence provides for our subsistence. Would we 
 not be very ungrateful did we not every morning and 
 evening pray, and return thanks to that good Father 
 who w T atches every moment over our harvests, without 
 which we should miserably perish with want and hun- 
 ger ? 
 
 Little-John. Oh ! I will never forget to ask the good 
 God, when I say my prayers, to give us good harvests. 
 Now, grandma, tell me how they make bread with the 
 wheat ? 
 
 Margaret. After they have threshed the grain out, 
 and separated it from the straw, as you have seen 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 27 
 
 them clo in the barn, they carry it to the mill to be 
 crushed and reduced to flour. They then wet this 
 flour with water, to make it into dough ; when the 
 dough is well worked, they put a little yeast into it, and 
 then make it into the shape they wish the bread to be. 
 
 Little- John. But I don't know what yeast is. 
 
 Margaret. It is generally dough which becomes 
 sour after keeping it several days. The yeast makes 
 the dough rise ; that is to say, it fills it with a multi- 
 tude of little holes or bubbles which prevent the bread 
 from becoming heavy and solid, for then it would be 
 difficult to bake and digest. 
 
28 LITTLE-JOIIN. 
 
 Little-John. How can yeast make all these little 
 bubbles ? 
 
 Margaret. That is a thing, my child,, that you are 
 almost too young to understand. I have been told 
 that the yeast gives out in the dough a small quantity 
 of a certain kind of air which lifts the dough up, and 
 puffs it out without being strong enough to escape al- 
 together. When the dough is puffed out in this way, 
 or risen, as the bakers call it, it is put into the oven, 
 and by means of heat is baked until done. 
 
 Little-John. Thank you, grandma. I know now 
 how bread is made ; but, if it is not too late, I want 
 to ask you another thing. You told me that they car- 
 ried the wheat to mill to crush it, and make it into 
 flour. Every time I go down to the brook, and see 
 the mill, I am very curious to know what it is that 
 makes such a noise ; it is very amusing, too, to see 
 the big wheel turning and the water splashing over 
 it, but I have always been afraid to go in and see the 
 works inside. 
 
 Margaret. I will explain all that to you, my child ; 
 but it is time now to say our prayers, and go to bed : 
 there is a time for all things. So we will talk about 
 the mill another time. There is old Uncle Tom : he 
 and the miller are great friends. Ask him to take you 
 to the mill ; on the spot you will learn more about it 
 in five minutes than I could tell you in an hour. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 29 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 DREAMS. 
 
 They often talked in Margaret's cottage of the his- 
 tory of Joseph, and the good grandmother made her 
 children observe how hateful a vice jealousy was, as 
 it urged men to commit such horrible crimes as Jo- 
 seph's brothers were guilty of. Whereupon the con- 
 versation commenced. 
 
 Little- John. As Joseph was determined to pardon 
 his brothers, why was he so long about it ? Why did 
 he frighten them so by pretending that little Benjamin 
 had robbed him ? 
 
 Louisa. Don't you see, Little-John, that he wanted 
 to try them, to see if they were as wicked as ever. 
 When he saw them begging on their knees to die in 
 Benjamin's stead, he knew at once that they were 
 changed, and he discovered himself to them. — But, 
 grandma, tell me one thing, if you please ; you re- 
 member that two of the king's officers had dreams that 
 foretold what was to happen to them ; why then did 
 you laugh the other day at poor Maria, who was so 
 sad because she had dreamt of a wedding ? She said 
 it was a sure sign of death, and you said, " Fie, Ma- 
 ria, don't talk such nonsense ; dreams have no mean- 
 ing ;" yet you see that that of Pharaoh meant some- 
 thing. 
 
 3* 
 
30 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 Margaret. My child, God wished to reward Jo- 
 seph's fidelity and patience, and he wished to prove 
 to him that he never abandons those who pray to him 
 sincerely, and put their trust in him ; therefore he sent 
 these dreams to Pharaoh and his officers, and he enabled 
 Joseph to interpret them. It is a means that God has 
 sometimes used; but generally dreams are insignificant, 
 none but the ignorant ever seek to interpret them. 
 Not only is it foolish, but it is wrong, for God has for- 
 bidden us to pry into the future. 
 
 " Why has he forbidden it ?" asked both children at 
 once. 
 
 Margaret. My dear children, when God orders or 
 forbids us do any thing, it is not for us to question it : 
 we must always remember that he is wisdom itself, 
 and that consequently he has always the best reasons 
 for his commands, though we may not understand 
 them. But I will tell you, if you wish, why he forbids 
 our seeing into futurity ; it is because it would make 
 us very unhappy. 
 
 Louisa. How could it render us unhappy ? 
 
 Margaret. Because we would no longer have the 
 heart to strive for a good or to avoid an evil known 
 beforehand ; a benefit that we know must come would 
 be without enjoyment, while the fear of an evil, with- 
 out any possible means of avoiding or putting it off, 
 would greatly increase our suffering. 
 
 Louisa. But there are people who can tell what is 
 to happen. Fortune-tellers, and those who interpret 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 31 
 
 the cards ; these people, then, must make us un- 
 happy ? 
 
 Margaret. No, my daughter ; God alone can see 
 into futurity. Those who pretend to do so are im- 
 postors ; and what is more, they are rogues, for they 
 take money from the credulous who consult them, 
 without knowing more about the matter than they do, 
 
 Louisa. But Maria is not a liar ; well, she can tell 
 when any misfortune is to happen to her. She told 
 me that she broke her looking-glass just the day be- 
 fore her mother's house was burnt. 
 
 Margaret. You believe, then, that the house would 
 not have taken fire if she had not broken her glass. 
 If breaking any thing were to occasion such sad dis- 
 asters, careless, clumsy people would be very much 
 to be pitied. Fortunately it is not so. You are ac- 
 quainted with the miller's niece, Jane ; she is a great 
 deal more careless than you are, though much older. 
 Well, scarcely a week passes without her breaking 
 something, and she has already broken the beautiful 
 looking-glass that her aunt brought her ; yet no acci- 
 dent has occurred to the mill or to the family. 
 
 Louisa. That is true, grandma ; but Maria says 
 that there are many other things that are unlucky. 
 
 Margaret. Listen to me, my children. Maria is a 
 good, honest girl ; we must esteem and not laugh at 
 her ; but she is ignorant and simple, and you must 
 take care how you believe all the tales she tells you. 
 No, my children ; break glasses, upset the salt, sit 
 
32 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 thirteen at table, hear a raven croak, meet a hearse, 
 and a hundred other things — none of them indicate 
 evils to happen. What brings misfortune is, to offend 
 God, and to do harm to our neighbors. There are 
 people, too, who will not undertake to do any thing 
 on a Friday, because they say it is an unlucky day ; 
 but the only unlucky days are those on which we do 
 wrong. Be good, gentle, and virtuous, and there will 
 be no such thing for you as unfortunate days, for God 
 will bless you every day that you live. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 HISTORY OF MOSES. 
 
 Some time after, Little-John, who was getting very 
 fond of hearing tales related, begged Louisa to tell 
 him another. She related the following : 
 
 " You remember, Little- John, that Joseph's brothers 
 went to live in Egypt ; they remained and died there. 
 The}^ had a great many children ; these children in 
 their turn had children, so that at the end of a hun- 
 dred and fifty years they formed a great nation. 
 
 " Joseph had been dead a great while, and there was 
 another king in Egypt, a wicked man, who was much 
 annoyed at seeing Joseph's family becoming so numer- 
 ous and powerful. This cruel king, to prevent it from 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 33 
 
 increasing still more, ordered all the little boys, as soon 
 as they were born, to be thrown into a great river that 
 runs through Egypt, called the Nile. 
 
 " As soon as this was known, all the mothers were 
 in despair. In spite of their prayers and tears, theii 
 poor little children were torn from them and thrown 
 into the Nile. 
 
 " There was a woman who had a little boy as beau- 
 tiful as an angel, that she loved very dearly. She 
 managed to conceal him for some time, but at last con- 
 cealment was no longer possible. She knew that God 
 never forsakes those that pray to him with all their 
 hearts, and she implored him to save her child. She 
 
 then made a basket of rushes, put her little boy in it, 
 and went with him herself, weeping bitterly all the 
 way, and placed him on the edge of the water. She 
 
34 LITTLE-JOIIN. 
 
 had a daughter ten years of age, name^Mary, whom 
 she concealed near the basket to find out what would 
 happen to her little brother. The poor woman return- 
 ed home in great grief; but God watched over the 
 basket, for he never abandons those that turn to him. 
 He inspired the king's daughter with a wish to bathe 
 that day. When she got to the river-shore, she per- 
 ceived something at a distance floating upon the water. 
 Sending one of her women to see what it was, she 
 brought her the rush basket. She opened it, and see- 
 ing the poor little fellow lying in it, moved with com- 
 passion, she exclaimed : ' That child shall not perish — I 
 will take him under my protection, and he shall be 
 brought up as if he were my own son.' Mary, hear- 
 ing this, slipped out from the place where she had con- 
 cealed herself, and said to the princess : ' If you wish 
 it, my lady, I will get you a nurse for that little baby.' 
 The princess told her to do so. Then the little girl 
 ran quickly for her mother, and brought her to the 
 princess, who gave her the child to nurse, charging 
 her to take the greatest care of it, and promising to 
 pay her for it. 
 
 " Then the mother took home her child. Think 
 how happy she was, and how heartily she thanked 
 God for having restored her darling baby, and who had 
 so arranged it that she could keep it now without fear 
 of its being taken from her. As soon as he w 7 as old 
 enough she restored him to the princess, who brought 
 him up in her palace. They called him Moses, which 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 35 
 
 means, saved from the waters. When you read your 
 Bible, you will see what wpnderful things God enabled 
 Moses to perform, and what a great man he became." 
 
 Little-John was delighted with this story ; his ad- 
 miration of God's goodness and power was boundless, 
 and he agreed with Louisa, that those who put their 
 trust in him are very right. 
 
 "Do you know, Little- John," said his good sister, 
 " that this history is very much like your own ? I was 
 very small when I found you, too, in a little basket. I 
 felt, as soon as I saw you, that I should love you like 
 a brother." At these words the little boy threw his 
 arms around Louisa's neck and kissed her tenderly. 
 Old Margaret, with a corner of her apron, wiped a 
 tear from her wrinkled cheek. Then, taking each of 
 her grandchildren by the hand, she drew them to her 
 and said : " My children, I am very old, and I must 
 soon die. There are two things that I recommend to 
 you : the first is, never to forget God's goodness, and 
 always to rely on him. You have only to observe 
 what care he takes of all his creatures, and with how 
 much love, he watches over them. Yes," continued 
 Margaret, "he tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, he 
 causes the earth to bring forth beautiful flowers, and he 
 takes care even of the smallest insects ; how much more, 
 then, must he care for human beings, made after his 
 own image, who serve him and pray to him with all 
 their hearts ! Thus, my children, when you are unfor- 
 tunate and very unhappy, always confide in your heav- 
 
36 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 enly Father : if you are afflicted, he will console you ; 
 if you are poor, he will give you all that is needful, 
 provided you strive industriously to aid yourselves. 
 You know that I love you, and that I grant all your 
 reasonable desires if I can. God loves you more than 
 father or mother, and he is all-powerful to hear your 
 prayers and to give you that which is needful. 
 
 " The second thing that I recommend to you, my 
 dear children, is always to love and aid one another 
 as much as you can. There is nothing so grateful to 
 the heart as a friend to share our joys and our troubles ; 
 our pleasures are then more enjoyable, our sorrows 
 lighter, and our labor less heavy ; and where can one 
 find a better friend than a brother or a sister ? And then 
 there is nothing so agreeable to God as the friendship 
 of brothers, and it is this union that he has particularly 
 blessed ; and our Lord, while he was on this earth, 
 often repeated to his disciples, ' My children, love one 
 another.' This, my dearest children, is all the advice 
 I have to give you ; I hope you will think of it often 
 when I am gone." 
 
 When Margaret had done, the two children kissed 
 her in silence, and in a way to let her see that they 
 had understood and would certainly follow her advice. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 37 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 LABOR. 
 
 Little-John thought that God was very kind to 
 have created all things for our use ; but one day it 
 came into his head that he had, with all this, given us 
 a great deal of work to do. It seemed to him that the 
 Lord, who is so powerful, and who can do what he 
 chooses merely by a word, might have spared mankind 
 all the labor of cultivating the earth, building houses, 
 and making clothing. He inquired why houses were 
 not found already built, and bread and clothes ready 
 made. Old Margaret laughed. 
 
 " Little-John," said she, " don't you remember the 
 history of Adam and Eve ? You learned in your Cate- 
 chism that God placed them both in a beautiful garden, 
 and that he gave them every thing in it but the fruit 
 of a certain tree, which he forbade them to eat. You 
 remember that Eve allowed herself to be tempted by 
 the serpent ; that she ate the fruit ; and that she per- 
 suaded her husband to eat it also. Then God told 
 them that they should die. He drove them out of 
 Paradise, and condemned Adam to labor all his life, 
 and to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. We 
 are the children of Adam, and we are paying the pen- 
 alty of his sin ; this is why we are obliged to work as 
 we do. If we did not work, not only would we be 
 
 4 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 unhappy and miserable for want of food, but we would 
 be wicked indeed. My dear Little-John, remember 
 as long as you live that idleness is the root of all evil ; 
 that is to say, we fall into all kinds of wickedness 
 when we are idle and lazy. It is a great truth ; and 
 all sinners, rogues, and thieves begin by being lazy, 
 idle children. It is true that God in his goodness 
 maintains little children, the infirm, the asfed, and all 
 those who cannot work ; but he abandons to misery 
 and want those who have not the heart and good- will 
 to work ; and then, though he has condemned us to 
 labor as a punishment for Adam's sin, he has promised 
 to reward us if we work cheerfully in obedience to 
 his commands. Listen, my child ; I remember a fable, 
 which will perhaps amuse you. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 THE CROW AND THE CATBIRD. 
 
 " There was a lazy man, who thought himself very 
 good, because he passed his days in admiring God's 
 works. He said, ' How great ! how powerful ! how 
 good is God! what care he takes of all his creatures! 
 He feeds the little birds and the insects : why should 
 men labor ? Are they not superior to the animals that 
 God provides for without their being obliged to work ? 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 39 
 
 I will not labor ; I will pass my time with praising 
 and praying to God ; I will ask him to send me what 
 I want, and I am sure he will do it.' Talking in this 
 way, the man went to praying, after which he laid 
 himself under a tree, and waited patiently for his din- 
 
 ner. The whole day passed in this manner without 
 any thing happening. Towards sundown he saw a 
 crow, with something in his bill, alight in the tree im- 
 mediately over his head. In the top of the tree was 
 a nest which contained a poor shivering little cat- 
 bird, which could not fly, because its wings had not 
 yet grown out. The little thing was almost dead with 
 hunger, for some cruel boys had killed its parents. 
 The crow fed it with what he had in his bill, and flew 
 
40 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 away. When the man saw this, he cried out : ' Am 
 I not right in praising God's bounty ? That poor lit- 
 tle bird would have died of hunger, if he had not sent 
 the crow to feed it : surely, He who takes care of that 
 little catbird will not forget me.' Whereupon he went 
 to sleep. The next morning when he awoke he began 
 to be very hungry, and he hoped soon to see his break- 
 fast arrive. He waited again the whole day ; the 
 breakfast hour pfssed, and dinner-time, and nothing 
 came. Only towards night the crow came, as it did 
 the day before, and fed the young bird. The third 
 day the man was all but dead, he was so hungry ; he 
 w T as very much astonished that God should have for- 
 gotten him ; however, he went to his prayers, and 
 waited the whole day again. Towards evening the 
 crow came as usual to feed its little friend ; but when 
 it was done eating the crow said to it : ' Now, my 
 little fellow, that your wings have grown strong enough, 
 and that you can go yourself in search of food, you 
 must not expect me to bring you any more. So, my 
 dear, if hereafter you want any thing, you must look 
 out for yourself. Do not forget this proverb — "Aid 
 thyself and God will aid thee" — good-by;' and the 
 crow flew away. 
 
 " The man now saw why it was that God had not 
 listened to his prayers. He got up immediately, and 
 went to seek work on a neighboring farm, w T here he 
 went at it heartily to earn his livelihood." 
 
 Little-John. But, grandmother, do birds talk ? 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 41 
 
 Margaret. No, my child ; did I not tell you that it 
 was a fable I was about to relate ? Well, a fable is 
 never true ; it is a tale imagined for our instruction, 
 and from which we can always derive a good lesson. 
 You know the difference between a true story, that 
 really happened, and a tale invented to amuse chil- 
 dren. The story of Joseph, that you are so fond of, 
 is true ; but this little tale that I have told you is not. 
 
 Louisa. Grandma, I know a fable too ; if you choose, 
 I will recite it. 
 
 Margaret. Do so, my daughter. 
 
 And the little girl commenced slowly and distinctly 
 to relate the following fable : 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 THE FARMER AND HIS CHILDREN. 
 
 " There was once upon a time a rich farmer who 
 was about to die. He called all his children around 
 his bed, and told every one else to leave the room. 
 When they were alone, he said to them : ' My chil- 
 dren, when I am dead and gone, you must not sell the 
 farm, for there is a great treasure concealed in it. 
 When the harvest is over, all you have to do is, to dig 
 in the fields, and you will find something very valua- 
 ble.' After the death of their father, the children 
 
 4# 
 
42 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 went to work, and dug, and ploughed, and stirred the 
 earth, in every direction. They found nothing ; but 
 at the end of the year, as the earth had been thorough- 
 ly stirred and well worked, the grain was most abun- 
 dant. Then the children understood that the labor 
 and the pains that they had bestowed upon the land, 
 was the treasure that their father meant." 
 
 Little- John thought this a beautiful fable, and learn- 
 ed it by heart. 
 
 One day the little boy remarked to his sister that 
 she had been several days without telling him a story. 
 Louisa, who was always happy to render any one a 
 service, promised him a pretty story for the next day 
 after dinner ; and when the time came she related the 
 story of Ruth. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 STORY OF RUTH. 
 
 " You remember the story of Moses, do you not, 
 John ? It was he who delivered the Hebrews from 
 Egypt, and where Pharaoh's cruelty made them very 
 wretched. He led them for forty years through a 
 great wilderness, and conducted them finally to the 
 entrance of the land of Canaan. This land of Canaan 
 was a beautiful country that God had promised to be- 
 stow upon Jacob's children. After the death of Mo- 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 43 
 
 ses, when the Hebrews had taken possession of the 
 promised country, they were governed for three hun- 
 dred years by judges or chiefs, whom God appointed 
 to lead them in war and rule them in peace. 
 
 " In those days a great famine occurred ; you know 
 what that means — there was not enough of bread. A 
 man called Elimelech had to leave his home in Beth- 
 lehem, and go to a country called the land of Moab, 
 to seek a livelihood ; he was accompanied by his wife 
 Naomi and her two sons. Shortly after they got there 
 Elimelech died, and his two sons married two Moabi- 
 tish women, named Orpha and Ruth. 
 
 " At the end of ten years Elimelech's sons died also ; 
 and Naomi, remaining alone, and without protection, 
 determined to return to her own country, because she 
 had learned that (thanks to God) there was once more 
 abundance of food there. She set out then, and her 
 daughters-in-law started with her. But on the road 
 Naomi said to them, ' My daughters, return to your 
 parents ; I will pray the Lord to bless and prosper 
 you.' She then kissed them. Her daughters-in-law 
 commenced crying, and insisted on going with her. 
 ' No, my daughters/ replied Naomi ; 'why should you 
 accompany me ? You see how poor I am, and your 
 poverty would only add to mine.' When they heard 
 this, the two daughters-in-law cried still more. At 
 last, Orpha embraced her mother-in-law, and returned. 
 But Ruth cluna; to Naomi, determined not to leave 
 her ; and as Naomi still tried to persuade her to return 
 
44 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 with her sister-in-law, she said, ' Entreat me not to 
 leave thee, or to return from following thee, for whith- 
 er thou goest I will go, and where thou lodgest I will 
 lodge ; thy people shall be my people, and thy God my 
 God ; where thou diest will I die, and there will I be 
 buried.' Naomi seeing that Ruth was determined, 
 ceased to oppose her. They travelled together, and 
 arrived in Bethlehem towards the commencement of 
 harvest. Ruth said to her mother-in-law : -' If you will 
 permit me, I will go and glean in the fields. Perhaps 
 I may meet with some benevolent farmer who will be 
 charitable.' Naomi replied : ' Go, my daughter.' 
 Ruth then went into a field, and commenced gleaning 
 (or picking up the waste) behind the reapers. It so 
 happened that the field belonged to Boaz, a very rich 
 man, and a near relation of Elimelech. 
 
 "While Ruth was gleaning, Boaz came into the 
 field to see how the hands were getting on : seeing 
 Ruth, he inquired who she was. They told him that 
 she was a poor Moabitish woman, who had returned 
 to the neighborhood with Naomi. Then Boaz said to 
 her : ' Listen, my girl ; do not glean in any other fields 
 than mine : join my girls, and follow the reapers. If 
 you are thirsty, drink the water that is brought for my 
 people, and when you are hungry, eat with them.' 
 Afterwards he added : ' I have heard how well you be- 
 haved to your mother-in-law, and how you abandoned 
 every thing to comfort her — may the Lord bless you 
 for it !' 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 45 
 
 " Ruth thanked Boaz for his kindness, and when din- 
 ner-time came, took her seat with the other hands. 
 They gave her food, and after eating as much as she 
 wanted, she put the remainder away. She then went 
 to work again, and gleaned until night : after having 
 thrashed out the grain that she collected, she gave it, 
 together with the remains of her dinner, to her mother- 
 in-law. Naomi inquired w T here she had been at work. 
 Ruth told her, and related how kind Boaz had been to 
 her. Naomi said : ' May the Lord bless him ! I see 
 that he retains for us the same friendship that he felt 
 for my husband and my sons during their lifetime ;' 
 and she added, ' You would do well, my daughter, to 
 glean in the same place until the harvest is over.' 
 Ruth followed her advice ; and when the harvest was 
 over, Naomi said to her : ' My daughter, I have been 
 
 thinking of your getting married. Boaz is our near 
 relation ; and it is the custom in our country when a 
 man dies without leaving any children, for his nearest 
 relation to marry his wife, in order that she may not 
 be without a protector. Go, then, and find Boaz, and 
 remind him that he is the nearest male relation of your 
 deceased husband.' Ruth did exactly as she was told, 
 and God rewarded her obedience ; for Boaz went to 
 the city gate, and before all the people declared that he 
 took Ruth for his wife. She became very rich, and 
 very happy. She had a son called Obed, and Naomi 
 took care of him, and nursed him with much tender- 
 ness; and the women of Bethlehem, when they saw 
 
46 LITTLE-JOIIN. 
 
 her carrying her grandchild in her arms, blessed God 
 that he had comforted her in her affliction. Obed 
 founded the family of the kings of Juda, and our Lord 
 and Saviour Jesus Christ descended from that family." 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 ALIUS. 
 
 When Louisa finished the story of Ruth, she asked 
 Little- John what he thought of it ? 
 
 Little- John. I think that Ruth was a good girl, and 
 that God did right to reward her. 
 
 Louisa. It is thus that God blesses good and respect- 
 ful children, who serve their parents, who console them 
 in misfortune, and who relieve them when in want ; 
 but observe, that in this case the best reward was not 
 in being made rich and happy, and getting a good hus- 
 band, but in obtaining a knowledge of the true God ; 
 for in Ruth's country they did not know him, and if she 
 had not followed Naomi, she would not have had this 
 great happiness ; and then, how glorious to have been 
 an ancestress of the Messiah ! Some other time I will 
 relate to you the history of David, Obed's grandson. 
 
 Little- John. Boaz was a good man too ; why did he 
 tell Ruth not to glean elsewhere ? 
 
 Louisa. Because he was generous and charitable : 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 47 
 
 he followed the precepts of the Lord, who says : 
 " When you harvest your grain, do not go back to 
 pick up the scattered straw ; leave it for the widow, 
 the stranger, and the orphan, that the Lord may bless 
 the labor of your hands." This is why Boaz wished 
 Ruth to follow his reapers, and to share their dinner 
 with them ; he was happy to find an opportunity to 
 do good, for he well knew that he who relieves the 
 poor is the image of God upon earth, and that the Lord 
 blesses the giver, so that the alms that he bestows en- 
 rich instead of impoverishing him. 
 
 Little-John. Yes ; but when one is very poor one's 
 self, one cannot give alms. 
 
 Louisa. No matter how poor we may be, we may 
 still find others yet more unfortunate to whom we may 
 do good ; if we have nothing to give them, we may 
 console, encourage, visit and nurse them when they 
 are sick, and serve them in many ways. 
 
 Little-John. But rich people can always relieve the 
 poor. 
 
 Louisa. The alms from the poor are more agreea- 
 ble in the sight of God than those of the rich. Grand- 
 ma explained that to me when I recited to her a pas- 
 sage in the New Testament, that I learned by heart 
 not long ago. Our Saviour was one day standing 
 near the place where people came to deposite their 
 alms : he saw the rich bring large sums ; and he saw, 
 also, a poor widow bring two small pieces of money 
 of little value. Then he said to his disciples: "Of a 
 
48 LITTLE-JOHN, 
 
 truth I say unto you, that this poor widow has given 
 more than they all, for they of their abundance have 
 given what they did not want, whereas she has given 
 all that she had." 
 
 So you see, John, that God, who sees to the bottom 
 of our hearts, does not judge, as men do, by the amount 
 given, but by the spirit with which it is given. He 
 will reward us even for a glass of water given for the 
 love of him. This reminds me of another little story 
 which I must tell you. It was again during a great 
 famine among the Hebrews. There w T as a man called 
 Elijah, one of the holy prophets. One day he arrived 
 near the city of Zarephath ; as he had walked a long 
 way, he was exceedingly thirsty and hungry. He saw, 
 in a field near by, a poor woman picking up wood, and 
 said to her : " Give me, I pray you, a little water." She 
 ran for it immediately, and as she was going, he cried 
 out : " Bring me, too, I beg of you, a piece of bread, for 
 I am very hungry." The poor woman had only a little 
 flour and a small quantity of oil that she was keeping to 
 make bread for her son ; she made it, however, into bread 
 for the prophet. To reward her charity, God perform- 
 ed a miracle : the flour in the barrel and the oil in the 
 bottle never gave out during the whole time of the 
 famine ; though they used it every day, there was al- 
 ways some left. God did this to reward a charitable 
 act, and to prove that he always repays us what we 
 give in alms. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 49 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 THEFT. 
 
 A short time after the story about Ruth, Louisa 
 having gone out to see some of her playmates, Little- 
 John was left alone with old Margaret, and said to her : 
 "Grandmother, when we find any thing in the fields, 
 can we take it for ourselves ?" 
 
 Margaret. How, Little-John, can you ask such a 
 question ? Have I not told you a hundred times that 
 we must never touch what does not belong to us ? 
 
 Little-John. Did not Ruth go into Boaz's field to 
 pick up wheat ? and did not Louisa tell me that God 
 ordered those who were harvesting to leave some grain 
 in the fields for strangers and the poor ? 
 
 Margaret. But you must remember that Boaz gave 
 Ruth permission to pick up the scattered grain ; and 
 besides, the poor knew that they could take what they 
 found in the fields, because it was left on purpose for 
 them. It is customary now, in some countries, for poor 
 people to glean the stubble-fields ; and they can do so 
 because it is allowed, but if not, they must touch no- 
 thing. It is true, that God commands the rich to give 
 to the poor ; but he forbids everybody from taking what 
 does not belong to them. 
 
 Little-John. And when the rich are so hard-hearted 
 and cruel as to refuse to give any thing to the poor, 
 like that rich Mr. Gripeall, who drives them away 
 5 
 
50 LITTLE-JOHN 
 
 when they ask for bread, are not the boys right in 
 stealing their apples and destroying their gardens ? 
 
 Margaret. No, certainly not ; if the rich refuse to 
 give they will be punished ; but those who take, their 
 apples will not the less be punished for stealing. 
 
 Little-John. Taking a few apples ! do you call that 
 stealing ? 
 
 Margaret. Yes, my child ; it is as much a theft as 
 the taking of money. 
 
 Little- John. But a stingy man ! 
 
 Margaret. Well ! because that man is stingy, do you 
 want to be a thief? 
 
 Little-John. Oh! how shocking to be called a thief! 
 I would not even taste a cherry that had been taken 
 without permission. 
 
 Margaret. You are right, my son; honesty is the poor 
 man's wealth. Never forget what I have so often told 
 you, that in the country the fruit, the flowers, the trees, 
 and almost every thing else, are left to the care of Prov- 
 idence ; those who take the least thing commit a theft, 
 and they are the more guilty, as the owners have no 
 means of protecting themselves from such injustice. 
 But if man does not see them, God, who is everywhere, 
 does, and he will most assuredly punish them. Listen, 
 I will tell you a story. A long time ago the Normans 
 were all robbers ; they came from a country called 
 Denmark, and as that country is in the north, they 
 were called Northmen, or Normans. Almost every 
 year they set out in great numbers, in small boats ; 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 51 
 
 they sailed along the coasts of France, and penetrated 
 to the heart of the country by ascending the rivers ; 
 there they plundered and burnt the villages, carried 
 off the flocks and herds, and after killing the men, they 
 led away the women and children, and made them 
 slaves. These robberies continued for many years 
 without its being possible to stop them. At last the 
 king of France made peace with Rollo, the chief of 
 these robbers ; he gave him a beautiful province for 
 himself and people to live in, and his daughter in mar- 
 riage, on condition that he would become a Christian, 
 and cease to do France any injury. Rollo accepted 
 king Charles's proposition, and he and all his people 
 became Christians. They gave him the province of 
 Neustria, since called Normandy, from the Normans 
 who settled in it. Then, from thieves and robbers, 
 that they were before, they became very honest peo- 
 ple. Rollo made wise laws for them that were strictly 
 obeyed ; the people became industrious, the cities be- 
 came rich and flourishing, the country was covered 
 with fine crops, and the inhabitants became such, that 
 a man having found a valuable bracelet in the road, 
 suspended it from a tree, that the owner might recog- 
 nise and claim it ; but he not passing that way, it re- 
 mained in the tree for many years. See what a change 
 the fear of God made in the habits of this people. We, 
 too, are Christians, and we ought to be as honest as 
 they. There is a country in Europe called Prussia, 
 in most parts of which it is customary to plant fruit- 
 
52 LITTLE-J0I1N 
 
 trees along the public roads. If the owner of one of 
 these trees should tie a simple whisp of straw around 
 its trunk, all the boys in Prussia might pass under it 
 without its being touched, such is their honesty. 
 
 Little-John. But, grandma, if we find any thing, can 
 we not keep it ? 
 
 Margaret. To find any thing without taking every 
 means to restore it, is just as much a theft as if we 
 were to take it from the owner without permission. 
 There are many ways of stealing : those who deceive 
 in buying or selling, in counting money, in measuring 
 or weighing goods ; those who refuse to pay what they 
 owe ; those who being hired to work, are idle, or do 
 their work in a slovenly way ; — all such people steal, 
 and they will never thrive, for wealth acquired by dis- 
 honest means cannot procure happiness. As for you, 
 John, I hope you will be an honest man : then, if you are 
 not rich, you will have a good conscience, which will 
 render you contentment and happiness in your pover- 
 ty ; you w T ill be esteemed and honored by man, and, 
 what is still better, will be blessed by God ; for he pro- 
 tects those who serve him and keep his command- 
 ments. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 53 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 OLD UNCLE TOM. 
 
 Uncle Tom, as he was usually called in the village, 
 was a venerable old man, highly respected for his hon- 
 esty and information, who had passed most of his life 
 at sea. After serving many years in the navy, he had 
 returned to spend the remainder of his days in his na- 
 tive village. He dwelt all alone in a small house that 
 had been his father's, and cultivated a small lot of 
 ground, that, by dint of labor and care, he had con- 
 verted into a beautiful garden. 
 
 Everybody liked old Tom ; children, particularly, 
 were very fond of him, and he of them. He often 
 collected the good little boys around him, and related 
 to them the wonders that he had seen in his voyages, 
 and the battles that he had fought for his country ; and 
 sometimes he gave them apples and nuts. 
 
 But if he loved good children, he was the terror of 
 bad ones. If, in his walks, he happened to meet a 
 large boy imposing on a small one, or guilty of any 
 other meanness, he was very apt to give him a rap 
 over the head. Little-John was a prime favorite with 
 old Tom, who always called him his messmate. The 
 old sailor often visited his kind neighbor Margaret, 
 and took great delight in instructing Louisa and Little 
 
 John, and they were very attentive to his lessons. 
 
 5 * 
 
54 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 THE MILL. 
 
 One fine morning, Little- John, by Margaret's advice, 
 went and asked Uncle Tom to take him to the mill. 
 The old sailor readily consented, and they were soon 
 upon the banks of the brook. 
 
 " Do you see, John," said Uncle Tom, " how the wa- 
 ter by its weight drives the big wheel ? Enter the mill 
 now, and you will see how the millstones are driven, in 
 their turn, by the big wheel. Of these millstones, 
 (which are round, flat, and very heavy.) the lower one 
 is stationary, and the upper is turned with consider- 
 able velocity : the grains of wheat are made to fall 
 between the two stones, from a box immediately above 
 them called a hopper : between the stones they are 
 crushed and ground into flour ; the flour is then sifted 
 from the bran through what is called a bolting-cloth. " 
 
 Little-John examined carefully the machinery of the 
 mill. As he was returning to the village, reflecting 
 upon what he had seen — " Uncle Tom," said he, " is 
 the windmill on the hill there like the one w T e have just 
 seen ?" 
 
 Tom. Precisely ; only, instead of a wheel turned by 
 water, it has four wings or sails driven by the wind. 
 
 Little- John. But how is the wind strong enough to 
 turn such heavy stones ? 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 55 
 
 Tom. You understand, John, how it is that water 
 turns the wheel ? 
 
 Little-John. Certainly ; the water is so heavy, that 
 it is not difficult to understand how it turns the wheel 
 and millstones ; but I cannot conceive how wind can 
 do the same : in the first place, I don't know what 
 wind is. 
 
 Tom. You don't know what air is, either, I sup- 
 pose ? 
 
 Little- John. Oh ! yes ; I know very well what it is ; 
 it is what we breathe ; we are surrounded by air, and 
 plunged into it as fish are plunged in water ; for when 
 you sweep your hand quickly by your face, you feel 
 the air immediately on your cheeks and eyes. Louisa 
 read that to me the other day, from a book that you 
 loaned her. 
 
 Tom. Really ! John, you are quite learned, and even 
 wiser than you think yourself, for you have just ex- 
 plained to me what wind is. 
 
 Little-John. Indeed ! I did not suspect it. 
 
 Tom. How do you manage to feel the air ? 
 
 Little-John. I pass my hand or a book rapidly before 
 my face. 
 
 Tom. How is it that you then feel it so plainly ? 
 
 Little-John. That is not so easy to answer. 
 
 Tom. I agree with you ; but think a little. 
 
 Little-John. Well ! I suppose it is because I then stir 
 the air and set it in motion, so that it strikes my face 
 hard enough for me to feel it. 
 
56 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 Tom. You have hit it exactly : wind is nothing more 
 than air in motion. 
 
 Now you will easily understand how it is that the 
 wind sets the arms of the mill agoing. If, instead of 
 putting the water-wheel under a fall of water, you 
 were to plunge it in a quiet pool, tell me, John, what 
 would occur ? 
 
 Little-John. That is not hard to tell. The wheel 
 would not turn, and the mill would not go. 
 
 Tom. That is precisely what occurs with the wind- 
 mill when the air is still — it does not go. But, on the 
 contrary, if sufficient water falls upon the wheel, the 
 mill runs ; so it is when the air falls upon the wings — 
 that is to say, if it blows. 
 
 Little-John. Oh ! Uncle Tom, what a difference ! 
 Water is heavy ; but air — 
 
 Tom. Is very light, you were going to say, w T ere you 
 not ? Well, I am sorry, messmate, to contradict you ; 
 but you must know that air has weight like other things, 
 and if you were to weigh a bottle full of air, against 
 one from which the air had been extracted, you would 
 immediately see that it was the heaviest. 
 
 Little-John. Oh ! then I can understand how the 
 wind makes the mill go. 
 
 Tom. Not only mills, but large vessels, loaded with 
 men and merchandise. They raise upon the vessels 
 high masts, higher than the church-steeple ; upon these 
 masts they stretch large sails, which, being pushed by 
 the wind, force the vessel through the water at a great 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 57 
 
 rate. But you saw, last winter, large limbs broken 
 from the trees by the violence of the wind ; how can 
 that which tore off such strong limbs be without weight? 
 How astonished you would be, Little-John, when the 
 wind is strong, if you could see what enormous waves 
 it makes upon the surface of the ocean ; and when I 
 tell you that it has destroyed whole cities and their in- 
 habitants, and swept away, in an instant, entire forests ! 
 
 Little-John. How dreadful ! I shall always be afraid 
 now when I hear the wind blow. 
 
 Tom. You would be wrong. With a good con- 
 science we should never fear any thing ; for nothing 
 happens in this world contrary to the will of our heav- 
 enly Father, who only allows an apparent evil for the 
 real good of his creatures. Besides, destruction by 
 wind is rare with us. It is in the South and the West 
 Indies that these hurricanes occur. 
 
 Little-John thanked Uncle Tom, and left him to re- 
 turn home to Margaret's. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 THE RESPECT DUE TO OLD AGE. 
 
 The little boy came running into the house — " Lou- 
 
 isa 
 
 Louisa ! come quick and see this funnyman going 
 up the street. See row crooked he is, and how he 
 walks — look !' 
 
58 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 Louisa ran to the door, and when she saw the man 
 she did not laugh, but looked upon him with compas- 
 sion ; and then she ran for some bread, which she 
 gave him, for it was a poor old lame beggar. 
 
 When he was gone, Little- John turned to Louisa, 
 thinking that she would join him in making fun of the 
 old man, but instead of laughing, she looked very se- 
 rious. It was because good Margaret had taught her 
 never to mock the aged, the poor, or the infirm. Lit- 
 tle-John did not know this, and Louisa taught him in 
 his turn. 
 
 " Look," said she, " are not these poor people to be 
 pitied on account of their sufferings and infirmities ? 
 If we were in their places, would we not be very un- 
 happy ? and to add to it, if bad boys were to mock us 
 what would you think of it ? You know that we must 
 never do unto others that which we would not have 
 done to us. 
 
 " I read a story the other day which proves that 
 God dislikes mocking children, and that he curses those 
 that are disrespectful to old people. I will relate it 
 to you. 
 
 " There was a man named Elisha, whom God loved 
 on account of his piety and devotion. Elisha was so 
 old that all the hair had fallen from his head, and he 
 was bald. One day, as he was travelling along at the 
 foot of a mountain, he met some boys who were play- 
 ing in the fields. As soon as they perceived his bald 
 head, they commenced running after and mocking 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 59 
 
 him. The old man turned and cursed them ; where- 
 upon two large bears rushed from a neighboring wood, 
 and devoured forty-two of them. 
 
 " Is not this a frightful story ? and does it not prove 
 that God punishes with severity all mocking chil- 
 dren r 
 
 Little- John agreed with her, and promised himself 
 never again to mock anybody, and always to be re- 
 spectful to old people. He remained very thoughtful, 
 and seemed ashamed of himself for mocking the old 
 beggar. 
 
 " My child," said Margaret, " you would not be sor- 
 rowful as you are — you would, on the contrary, be 
 joyous and contented, if you could have been useful 
 to that poor old man. The services that we render 
 to the aged rejoice the heart, and carry a blessing with 
 them. Listen, I too have a story to relate, that our 
 good Louisa has not forgotten." 
 
 Louisa blushed, and appeared more busy with her 
 work than ever, for she suspected that her grandmother 
 was about to speak of her. 
 
60 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 T.HE BLIND MAN'S STAFF. 
 
 " A poor blind man was wandering about the coun- 
 try begging his bread. As he could not see, he con- 
 trived by means of a long staff to feel his way from 
 village to village by roads that he was well acquainted 
 with. One day he had the misfortune to let his stick 
 fall in a ditch : he remained upon the spot in great em- 
 barrassment ; he was afraid, blind as he was, to descend 
 into the ditch, and yet he could not get along without 
 his stick. He seated himself on the roadside, hoping 
 that some one would soon come that way to his assist- 
 ance ; but he remained for a long time before a party 
 came by, and then they were talking and making such 
 a noise that they did not hear his timid demand for 
 help, and continued their route. The poor fellow left 
 once more alone, was very sad and anxious ; for he felt 
 the chill evening air, and feared that he would have to 
 remain where he was all night. But after awhile he 
 heard other steps, and the sound of voices approaching 
 him. He cried out again for assistance. But the pas- 
 sengers this time were heartless boys, who made sport 
 of the poor man's embarrassment. In their brutal mis- 
 chief they pretended to pick up his stick, but in its 
 stead handed him a thistle that scratched his hand. 
 Just at this moment Louisa was passing : she had heard 
 
LITTLE- JOHN. 61 
 
 the blind man's petition, and witnessed the cruelty of 
 the boys, and she said to herself, i That poor blind man 
 looks like my grandfather : he seems to be as old as he, 
 for his hair is just as white. How sorry I should be if 
 " my grandfather like him should be in need of assistance, 
 and like him worried by cruel boys !' Immediately the 
 good little girl took off her shoes, and waded into the 
 ditch. She returned and said to the old man: 'Here, 
 my good man, here is your cane.' The blind man 
 turned in the direction of her clear sweet voice, and 
 with joy in his countenance, took his stick, saying : 
 ' May God bless and reward you, my dear child, for 
 your good heart.' 
 
 " Louisa tripped off delighted : when she got home 
 she threw her arms around her grandfather's neck, and 
 though she did not mention what had occurred, the old 
 man's caresses were more grateful to her than usual, 
 and each kiss seemed to say to her : ' I thank you, my 
 child, for having performed a good action to-day for 
 the love of me.' " 
 
 The good old grandmother was very much moved 
 as she finished her recital. She drew the children to 
 her, and covered them with Jdsses ; and Little-John 
 understood how much happiness, and how much pride 
 a family may feel in the good deeds of one of its chil- 
 dren. 
 
 During the whole day he was more attentive and 
 affectionate than ever to his grandmother and sister ; 
 and when evening came, he asked Louisa to relate to 
 
62 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 him the story she had promised him about Ruth's grand- 
 son, in such a winning way, that she commenced it at 
 once. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 HISTORY OF DAVID. 
 
 " The Jews were a numerous people : they were at 
 war with the Philistines. The two armies were about 
 to engage, when a terrible giant, named Goliath, step- 
 ped forth from the ranks of the Philistines. He ap- 
 proached the Jews, offering them all manner of insults, 
 crying out — ' It is not necessary for both armies to 
 fight to decide the war ; let some Jew come out and 
 meet me, and we two will decide it.' But the Jews, 
 at the sight of this tremendous men, his heavy armor, 
 and long sword, were intimidated. They stood trem- 
 bling in their ranks, and not one of them dared go out 
 to fight Goliath. The king of the Jews, who was 
 named Saul, promised to give his daughter in marriage 
 and a large sum of money to any one who would kill 
 this wicked Philistine ; but not a man was to be found 
 of sufficient courage to attempt it. 
 
 " There was in Bethlehem a man called Jesse, who 
 was the son of Obed, and grandson of Boaz and Ruth, 
 whose story you admired so much. This man had 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 63 
 
 eight sons ; the eldest had gone to the war, and the 
 youngest, called David, remained at home. David was 
 in his sixteenth year; he tended his father's flocks, 
 and God loved him because he was a good son, obe- 
 dient and pious. 
 
 " Jesse called and said to him : — ' My son, go and 
 inquire how your brothers are, and take with you 
 such provisions as they may want.' David set out, 
 and arrived at the camp just as Goliath was defying 
 and insulting the Jews. David, who was brave, could 
 not listen to him without indignation, and inquired 
 who the insolent bully was. They told who he was, 
 and that he had frequently thus insulted them and blas- 
 phemed the name of God, and that no one dared fight 
 him, though the king had promised his daughter in 
 marriage to whoever would kill him. 
 
 " As soon as David heard this, he presented himself 
 to the king, and said : — ' If you choose, I will go and. 
 fight this insolent Philistine.' Saul replied to him : 
 ' You are nothing but a child — how can you fight this 
 terrible giant ? he will crush you with the first blow !' 
 — ' Don't you believe it,' replied David ; ' it is not 
 upon my own strength that I rely, but upon the pro- 
 tection of God : you know that any thing may be 
 done with His assistance. When I watched my 
 father's sheep in the desert, a lion or a bear would 
 sometimes rush out and seize one of them, but I al- 
 ways attacked and snatched his prey from him. It 
 was the Lord who protected me ; and as he delivered 
 
64 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 me then from the teeth of the bear and the claws of 
 the lion, can He not again defend me from the fury 
 of this proud Philistine ?' 
 
 " The king, seeing David so determined, no longer 
 opposed his design. He offered him his golden armor 
 and weapons. But after trying them on, the young 
 shepherd said : ' I could not get along with this armor, 
 it is too heavy, and I am not accustomed to it.' Then 
 he threw them off, and took only his stick, his sling, 
 and his satchel, into which he put a few smooth stones 
 that he picked out on the edge of the brook of Cedron : 
 after that he marched forth with confidence, because 
 he trusted in God's assistance. 
 
 "When Goliath saw the young shepherd approaching, 
 with his bag and stick, he commenced mocking him : 
 — ' Do you take me for a dog,' cried he, ' that you 
 approach me with a stick ? Come on : I will slay you, 
 and give your flesh to the fowls of the air and the 
 beasts of the field.' 
 
 " While he was talking, David ran towards him, 
 and placing a stone in his sling, threw it with such 
 strength and skill that it struck Goliath in the cen- 
 tre of the forehead, and the giant fell dead beneath the 
 blow." 
 
 At these words, Little-John commenced clapping 
 his hands, crying out — " Well done ! well done ! hur- 
 rah for David !" and made such a to-do that it was 
 some time before Louisa could go on ; at last she con- 
 tinued : " Seeing him fall, the Jews shouted for joy. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 65 
 
 The Philistines, panic-stricken, took to flight. The 
 Jews pursued and killed nearly all of them ; so that 
 their victory was complete : David had all the glory 
 of it, and he some time after became king of the Jews 
 in the place of Saul." 
 
 Little- John was brave, and loved to hear of battles ; 
 and he was more delighted with this story than with 
 any that he had yet heard. He was praising David's 
 courage — " Yes," said Louisa ; " but he was as good 
 as he was brave, and it was from God that he derived 
 his strength, and in whom he put his trust. You see, 
 John, in those days the Jews were the friends of God 
 — they were his chosen people ; but when our Saviour 
 came, they refused to acknowledge him, and put him 
 to death ; and on that account God cursed them." 
 
 " But take care, Louisa," said old Margaret, (who, 
 while attending to her knitting, was listening to her 
 grand-children,) " you forget to tell John that he must 
 neither despise nor hate the Jews. On the contrary, 
 he must love them ; for, like us, they are God's chil- 
 dren. We must pity them for their errors, but not 
 treat them the less like brothers, and oblige them if 
 we can." 
 
 6* 
 
66 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 THE SABBATH. 
 
 Every Sunday the good Margaret and her grand- 
 children put on their best clothes, dressing themselves 
 as neatly as possible, and went to church. Old Mar- 
 garet would not allow any work to be done on that 
 day, nor would she allow them to play and romp about, 
 because, as she told them, God had forbidden it. 
 
 " See, my children," said she, " how good the Lord 
 is to us ; though he wishes us to be industrious and 
 work hard, yet he knows that we require rest some- 
 times, and he has set a day apart for the purpose. He 
 promises to reward us if we work diligently in his ser- 
 vice, and he will reward us too if we refrain from 
 labor on the Sabbath, and keep it holy in obedience to 
 his commands." 
 
 Little-John. Those who work on Sunday do wrong 
 then ? 
 
 Margaret. Yes, my child, they disobey God. The 
 Sabbath is the Lord's day, and we must keep it holy. 
 We must neither buy, nor sell, nor labor on that day ; 
 it should be devoted to the worship of God in God's 
 house ; and you must be careful not to imitate those, 
 of whom there are unfortunately too many, who vio- 
 late the Sabbath by all manner of wickedness — drink- 
 ing, gaming, swearing. Fly from such people as you 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 67 
 
 would from the plague, for there is nothing so danger- 
 ous as the society of the wicked. 
 
 Little-John. But, grandmother, you were saying the 
 other day that we should not despise such people. 
 
 Margaret. No, my child, you must neither despise 
 nor hate them ; on the contrary, we should be kind to 
 and pity them ; but you must not make companions 
 of them, for fear of becoming as wicked as they. Lou- 
 isa, relate to Little -John the story of Joash : he will 
 see how a prince, well brought up, whose infancy God 
 had protected in so remarkable a manner, allowed him- 
 self to be led away by evil example, and became in 
 the end as corrupt and as impious as those with whom 
 he associated. 
 
 And Louisa commenced thus the history of Joash, 
 king of Judah. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 HISTORY OF JOASH 
 
 " There was a king of the Jews named Ahaziah, 
 whose mother was one of the most wicked and cruel 
 women ever known ; she was called Athaliah. One 
 day they came and told her that her son had been 
 killed in battle : immediately she resolved to seize upon 
 the throne, and in order to put down all opposition, 
 
68 
 
 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 she commanded all the princes of the royal family to 
 be put to death, without even excepting the infants in 
 the cradle, her own grandchildren. While they were 
 murdering these children, Jehosheba, Ahaziah's sister, 
 and the wife of Jehoiada, the high-priest, saved one of 
 them, and hid him in the temple with his nurse. He 
 was called Joash, and they reared him in great priva- 
 cy ; the high-priest educated him carefully, and taught 
 him to love God and serve him. 
 
 " During this time the cruel Athaliah was guilty of 
 every crime. She adored false gods, and compelled 
 the people to join in their worship. Under her rule 
 the Jews became extremely wretched and wicked. 
 
 " When Joash reached his tenth year, the high-priest 
 assembled a great many soldiers in the temple, and 
 made known to them that the little boy was their king. 
 He made him sit upon a throne, placed the crown 
 upon his head, and the sceptre in his hand. He then 
 distributed alms to the soldiers, and placed them around 
 the throne, and they promised to defend Joash, and 
 serve him as their master and king. The doors of the 
 temple were then thrown open, and the people rushed 
 in in crowds, shouting, ' Long live the king !' Atha- 
 liah, hearing the tumult, ran to inquire the cause. 
 When she saw the young, king upon his throne, she 
 flew into a great rage, tearing her garments, and cry- 
 ing out, ' Treason ! treason V Immediately the high- 
 priest ordered her to be dragged from the temple, and 
 to be put to death, which was done at once. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 69 
 
 " Joash then reigned, and was a good and wise 
 prince as long as he followed the advice of Jehoiada ; 
 but after the death of that good man he allowed him- 
 self to be led away by the flattery and caresses of the 
 lords of his court, who persuaded him to join them in 
 the worship of false gods, and to commit many evil 
 deeds. Jehoiada left a son called Zechariah, who suc- 
 ceeded him in the office of high-priest. When he saw 
 that Joash was forgetting the lessons, and departing 
 from the good counsels given him by his father, he re- 
 proached him with it, and reminded him of his duty. 
 But instead of heeding his good advice, and mending 
 his ways, Joash had him stoned to death. Zechariah 
 died, uttering these words : ' God sees and will punish 
 him/ And God did chastise Joash for his cruel in- 
 gratitude, for he allowed his enemies to invade his 
 kingdom, and to inflict upon him great suffering. Af- 
 ter that he died, miserably assassinated by his own 
 servants." 
 
 " Oh the scoundrel ! the villain !" cried Little-John, 
 " to murder the son of the man who had been so kind 
 to him, who took care of him when he was a little 
 boy, who made him king. God did right to punish 
 him ; he deserved it richly." 
 
 " Come and kiss me, my dear child," said Margaret 
 to him ; " you have such a horror of ingratitude, your 
 heart must be a good one. You are right, my boy, 
 there is nothing more natural or more delightful than 
 to love those who do us good. It is from gratitude 
 
70 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 that men love God ; that children cherish and respect 
 their parents ; and that friends love one another. Un- 
 grateful people ought not to live as they do, ignorant 
 of those sentiments which alone can render men good 
 and happy." 
 
 Little- John did not quite understand all that Mar- 
 garet said, but he threw his arms around her neck in 
 a way to let her see that his heart guessed at all that 
 she wished to teach him on the subject of gratitude. 
 
 " Little- John," she added, " do not forget the lesson 
 that this story teaches. Joash, as you see, was good 
 and pious as long as he followed good advice ; he be- 
 came sinful and cruel, because he did not shun the 
 company of the wicked. My child, you will soon 
 now be eight years old, and then you will go to school. 
 You will see there all sorts of boys ; among them I 
 fear many who have not been taught to fear God and 
 love virtue. Take care that you are not led away by 
 their example ; do not despise, but shun them. But 
 if, on the contrary, you meet with a child attentive to 
 his duties, obedient and respectful to his parents and 
 teachers, kind and obliging to every one — that is the 
 boy to make your friend. And when you grow up to 
 be a man, you must continue to seek your companions 
 among the honest and the virtuous ; for we invariably 
 get to resemble those with whom we most associate." 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 71 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE SWALLOW'S NEST. 
 
 " Louisa ! Louisa ! look here at the dear little birds 
 that I took from under the eaves of the house ! I was 
 near breaking my neck, but that is nothing, as I have 
 gotten them. Are you not glad, Louisa ?" 
 
 Louisa. Indeed I am not, John. If it is for me that 
 you have performed this fine exploit, I thank you for 
 your good intentions ; but I assure you, that I would 
 much rather see these poor little birds in their nest 
 under their mother's wings, than to have them here, 
 all trembling with cold, and destined to die of starva- 
 tion. 
 
 Little-John. Die of starvation ! what do you mean, 
 Louisa? I will feed and take the greatest care of 
 them, and then tame them. 
 
 Louisa. Unfortunately, that is impossible. They 
 are young swallows. They can only live upon flies 
 and other insects, and it is necessary that this food 
 should be prepared for them by their mother, that you 
 have no doubt rendered very unhappy by depriving of 
 her young ones. 
 
 Little-John. That then is the reason that I saw two 
 birds flying and chirping so hard around the nest ; and 
 they flew at me, as if they wished to attack me, when 
 I took the young ones. 
 
72 
 
 LITTLE-JOIIX 
 
 Louisa. No doubt of it, Little- John. You have 
 rendered a poor family desolate without the possibility 
 of profiting by your cruelty ; for even should you 
 succeed in feeding and rearing the birds, you will not 
 be able to keep them long. Swallows cannot exist in 
 a cage ; they require their full liberty, and they never 
 pass the winter with us, because then it would be too 
 cold, and they would no longer find any thing to eat. 
 
 Little- John. But where do they go during the win- 
 ter? 
 
 Louisa. Towards autumn they assemble in great 
 flocks, and set out all together for countries where the 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 73 
 
 heat is greater than it is with us ; South America, for 
 instance. The following spring they return to us, build 
 their nests, lay their eggs, hatch, and rear their young, 
 which are strong enough in the fall to accompany 
 their parents. If you take my advice, John, you will 
 put these poor little birds back in their nest : and go 
 quietly, now, and then see how carefully their mother 
 will feed them, and warm them with her wings, and 
 teach them to fly. 
 
 Little-John ran immediately to replace the birds in 
 their nest, but in his hurry he was careless ; the nest 
 gave way, fell to the ground, and the little birds were 
 killed by the fall, for their wings were too bare of 
 feathers to be of any assistance to them. Little- John, 
 quite ashamed, picked up the nest, and came with a 
 sorrowful face to his sister, and told her of the sad 
 fate of the little birds : he did not fail to prove to her 
 that this misfortune was caused by the giving way of 
 the nest, by the birds refusing to go into it, and not at 
 all by any fault of his ; and then he made haste to ask 
 her if the swallows built the nest themselves, and with 
 what they built it. 
 
 " With a mixture of mud and straw," replied Louisa. 
 " Observe what patience, what industry, the poor birds 
 must have had, to bring in their bills all this mud, and 
 to stick it to the wall, and to give it the proper shape." 
 
 Just then old Tom came in. Little-John was so 
 occupied with his swallow's nest, that he almost forgot 
 to speak to his old friend. 
 
 7 
 
74 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 " What are you examining with so much attention ?" 
 asked the old sailor. 
 
 Little-John. Uncle Tom, how is it possible to con- 
 ceive that a bird can, with nothing but its bill, build a 
 nest like that ? It seems to me that a bird must have 
 more sense than a man ; for a man, with the same 
 means, could not do as much. 
 
 Tom. What then would you say, if you knew what 
 beavers can do ? They know how to cut down trees, 
 drive posts, mix mortar, construct dams across rivers, 
 and build two-story houses, with more industry and 
 patience than savages often employ ; and they do all 
 this with no other tools than their teeth, their paws, 
 and their tails. 
 
 Little-John. I should say that beavers are as wise 
 as men ; as you tell me yourself, Uncle Tom, that 
 savages cannot build houses as good as theirs. 
 
 Tom. Well, you would be mistaken, Little-John, 
 because man can invent all sorts of things of himself ; 
 whereas, animals can invent nothing. Man can ac- 
 quire knowledge, and profit by the experience of those 
 that have gone before him ; animals .cannot. The 
 experience that one of them might, by chance, acquire, 
 can be useful only to itself, and cannot be made use 
 of by the others. All that man knows how to do is 
 the product of study and reflection : animals are in- 
 capable of study or reflection. Their skill is not ac- 
 quired, but is given them by the Creator, without their 
 knowing it. Thus, study and thought were not ne- 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 75 
 
 cessary to the swallow to build that nest you admired 
 so ; she built it naturally, without having been taught 
 to do so. Swallows build no better now than they 
 did a thousand years ago. They labor without being 
 able to avoid it — without foresight and without intelli- 
 gence. I saw, myself, a swallow exhausting itself in 
 attempting to build its nest over a door, just where a 
 bell-wire passed. Each time that the bell was pulled, 
 the motion of the wire destroyed the work that had 
 been done, and the poor bird could not understand 
 that it was necessary to build elsewhere. So it is 
 with beavers ; they have always been just as skilful as 
 now ; they have neither invented nor improved any 
 thing. The first men created may not perhaps have 
 been able to do as much as beavers ; but, since then, 
 the beavers have remained stationary, at the same 
 point ; whereas, human intelligence has wrought won- 
 ders. In the earliest times, the only dwelling-places 
 that men had were caves, or cabins, built of the limbs 
 and leaves of trees ; now they possess the art, not 
 only of constructing safe and comfortable houses, but 
 magnificent palaces, bridges that span the widest 
 rivers, and ships that navigate the remotest seas. 
 The first of our race knew nothing of iron. Tubal- 
 cain was the first man to make use of and fashion it 
 into tools ; but now what work is there that we cannot 
 perform with iron ? Ploughs, scythes, guns, utensils 
 and tools of every description, are made from it. 
 Astonishing machines, that, with the aid of fire and 
 
76 LITTLE- JOHN, 
 
 water, work of themselves, are, as it were, additional 
 arms and hands, of incalculable power, that man has 
 acquired by his own industry. There was a time 
 when we had to guess at the time of day by looking 
 at the sun. Then water and sand clocks were invented, 
 by means of which, time was measured, by the quan- 
 tity of water or fine sand that ran through a small 
 hole. Then came clocks with weights and pendulums, 
 like the one in the church-steeple, that noted the 
 hours with perfect regularity ; and finally, means were 
 discovered to enclose in the size of a common watch 
 ail the machinery necessary to mark the hour every- 
 where, and at each instant, with the utmost exactness. 
 
 You must see, then, that the blind instinct that 
 o-uides animals even in their most admirable works, is 
 not comparable with human intelligence, which reasons, 
 invents, profits by the inventions of others, and which 
 is always advancing towards perfection. 
 
 Little-John. Yet, Uncle Tom, you told me that there 
 were savages even now in existence incapable of doing 
 what the beavers do. How is it that with all their in- 
 telligence and in so long a time they know so little ? 
 
 Tom. It is, my child, because they are so lazy, that, 
 provided they get enough to eat and drink for the mo- 
 ment, they will do nothing. They lower themselves 
 voluntarily to the condition of brutes in obeying noth- 
 ing but their idle inclinations. They will not work, 
 and the happy fruits of industry and science can only 
 be obtained by application and labor. The richest 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 77 
 
 field in the world, left uncultivated, will produce noth- 
 ing but weeds and briers ; so it is with man's intelli- 
 gence, and it is only by persevering study that it can 
 achieve great things. You have, doubtless, more than 
 once found it disagreeable to labor. 
 
 Little- John. Indeed I have, Uncle Tom. 
 
 Tom. Well then, my child, learn that it is man's 
 glory and dignity to triumph over himself, and to de- 
 vote himself to rude labor. His superiority consists in 
 the power which he possesses to guide himself towards 
 that which is useful to others, and towards that which 
 is just and right, notwithstanding the alluring pleasures 
 of idleness, which tempt him to a contrary course. 
 This is why you are so self-satisfied when you have 
 had the perseverance and industry to perform, without 
 unnecessary delay, any difficult task. If you wish to 
 become a man really worthy of the name, think nei- 
 ther of pleasure nor interest, but labor always bravely 
 to do your duty. Let your motto be, Do what you 
 ought, happen what will. 
 
 7# 
 
78 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 HOUSES. 
 
 When old Margaret was obliged to go out for pro- 
 visions, or to seek or return work, she always did so 
 without the slightest anxiety about her domestic af- 
 fairs. Little-John never played either with the fire or 
 with knives ; he never climbed upon the chairs or ta- 
 bles, or littered up the house. When Louisa told him 
 to do any thing, instead of giving her an insolent an- 
 swer, or refusing to listen to her, as many bad chil- 
 dren would have done, he was just as obedient to her 
 as to Margaret, and they never quarrelled. Louisa 
 was very industrious, and Little-John was in the habit 
 of seating himself near her on his little stool, and they 
 conversed together like good friends. One day that 
 they were thus alone together, Little- John said to Lou- 
 isa : " Sister, do tell me how houses are built." 
 
 Louisa. Willingly : when they built the new house 
 up the road, I had to pass that way every day ; and I 
 noticed particularly how they did it. In the first place, 
 they dug out the cellar, and then all around the sides 
 of the cellar, they dug ditches. These ditches were 
 then filled up with a wall of large stones laid in mor- 
 tar, and the walls were continued up until they reach- 
 ed a little above the surface of the ground, and upon 
 this stone they laid the brick wall. Uncle Tom told 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 79 
 
 me that they had to dig the ditches in order that the 
 foundation of the building might stand upon more solid 
 earth than that at the surface, because if they were to 
 build upon the surface, when the wall reached a little 
 elevation, its great weight would cause it to settle, or 
 sink more in one place than another, and the house 
 would tumble down. That part of the walls conceal- 
 ed under ground is called the foundation of the house. 
 In carrying up the walls they took care to leave places 
 for the doors and windows. The carpenters then laid 
 large pieces of wood regularly across from wall to 
 wall, called sleepers, for the floor to lie on ; and final- 
 ly, when the walls were finished, the carpenters put 
 up the frame of the roof, large pieces of wood laid in 
 a slanting direction, with their extremities meeting at 
 top, called rafters ; upon these, planks were nailed 
 close together ; and upon the planks were nailed the 
 shingles, as you see them. In this way the house was 
 covered in, and safe from rain. 
 
 Little-John, Then the house was finished ? 
 
 Louisa. Oh no, that was only half the work. The 
 carpenters then made doors, window-shutters, floors, 
 and a great many other things ; then the locksmiths 
 had their work to do ; and then the plasterers plas- 
 tered the walls ; after them came the painters, who 
 covered all the wood- work with paint, not only to make 
 it look better, but to preserve it. They were nearly a 
 year in finishing the house completely. 
 
 Little-John. How much labor to build a house ! 
 
80 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 Could not the masons have done all that by them- 
 selves ? 
 
 Louisa. No ; God created men to live together in 
 society, and they must mutually assist each other in 
 all that they do. Masons alone could not finish a 
 house if other men did not do the wood-work ; the 
 carpenters in their turn could do nothing, if the cut- 
 lers did not make for them the tools with which they 
 work the wood. And so it is with every thing else. 
 The baker has need of the mason to construct his 
 dwelling and his oven. The mason has to look to the 
 baker to bake his bread. God has so ordered it, and 
 this proves to us that we should aid one another, and 
 dwell together in peace and harmony. 
 
 Little-John. Now, Louisa, you who know so much, 
 tell me about those savages that you and grand- 
 ma were talking of the other day ; can they build 
 houses ? 
 
 Louisa. Those who live in warm countries only 
 build huts made of reeds and mud or other perishable 
 materials. Uncle Tom loaned me a book of voyages 
 that is very interesting. There is an account in it of 
 a tribe of savages that build their habitations in the 
 tops of high trees to avoid the wild beasts and the 
 overflow of the rivers. They reach these dwellings 
 by means of ladders, which at night are pulled up so 
 as to cut off all communication with the ground. 
 There are people called Laplanders ; they live in a 
 country so cold, that the ground is almost always cov- 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 81 
 
 ered with ice and snow. These people live in huts 
 made of poles covered with sods, and shaped like bells, 
 with a hole in the top for the escape of the smoke. 
 The fire is made on the ground in the centre of the 
 hut. These Laplanders are very wretched ; nothing 
 grows in their country but pine-trees and moss. Their 
 nights in winter are two months in length, and as the 
 water then is all frozen, when they want to drink they 
 have to thaw it over the fire. In summer they take 
 quantities of fish, which they dry in the sun, and 
 put away for winter use. They possess herds of rein- 
 deer, a species of deer, which supply them with meat 
 and milk, and serve them instead of horses in drag- 
 ging their sleds. There are other people, inhabiting 
 hot climates, who have no houses. Such are the Ara- 
 bians or Arabs : they are continually moving from 
 place to place, and dwell in tents made of haircloth 
 and skins, as Abraham and Jacob did. 
 
 Little-John. Could they not build houses in Jacob's 
 time ? 
 
 Louisa. To be sure they could. The first city was 
 built by one of Cain's sons, a long time before the del- 
 uge. Do you not remember the towfcr of Babel, that 
 they attempted to build after the deluge, in defiance 
 of God's power ? Do you remember how he defeated 
 their design, and confounded their pride, by causing 
 the confusion of tongues, so that they could not un- 
 derstand one another ? They were obliged to separ- 
 ate without accomplishing their work ; but you must 
 
82 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 perceive that in those days men were already capable 
 of erecting grand and durable buildings. 
 
 Little-John. Why, then, was Jacob without a house ? 
 What is a tent like ? 
 
 Louisa. A tent is a large piece of canvas, or cloth, 
 stretched over poles and pinned to the ground, around 
 the edges, by wooden pins driven in for the purpose. 
 It affords sufficient protection from wind and rain, and 
 is so light as to be easily set up and taken down and 
 transported from place to place. When an army goes 
 to war, tents are carried along, and the soldiers set 
 them up, or, as they term it, pitch them, wherever they 
 establish a camp. A camp is a city, with regular 
 streets, composed of tents. It can be put up in the 
 evening and moved elsewhere the next morning. Thus 
 the patriarchs dwelt under tents made of haircloth or 
 skins. As they possessed immense flocks, and did not 
 cultivate the earth, they had to shift their ground when 
 the surrounding pastures were exhausted. But this 
 mode of living is only possible when the population of 
 a country is very thin. Lot and Abraham had to 
 separate when their flocks became too numerous. 
 Abraham, Isaac* and Jacob preferred this simple and 
 independent mode of life ; nevertheless, in their day, 
 large cities and magnificent palaces were constructed, 
 for the kingdoms of Egypt and Babylon were already 
 flourishing, and the pyramids were built about that 
 time. 
 
 Little- John. What are pyramids ? 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 83 
 
 Louisa. They are enormous edifices, square at the 
 base, and terminating at the top in a point — shaped 
 precisely like our lye- hopper turned upside-down. 
 They were erected to serve as tombs to their kings, or 
 for some other unknown purpose ; and so solidly con- 
 structed of granite, as still to be in a perfect state at 
 the end of more than three thousand years. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 GHOSTS, 
 
 One evening John had been to see his Uncle Tom, 
 and remained later than usual : he put on his hat to 
 return home, for it was already dark, — but to return 
 to Margaret's he had to pass by the graveyard. He 
 had often heard the most extraordinary accounts of 
 ghosts, and goblins, and spirits ; and, brave as he was, 
 he felt somewhat afraid to travel the road alone, and 
 at night. He took care to say nothing to Uncle Tom 
 about it, for fear of being laughed at ; but he asked 
 him if he would not accompany him to see his grand- 
 mother. But the old sailor guessed at the little boy's 
 thoughts, and said : 
 
 " John, are you afraid, after boasting the other day 
 how hard you would fight if you were a soldier ? Do 
 you know that then you would often have to mount 
 
84 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 guard by yourself, in the most lonely spots, and in the 
 night, and for hours together ?" 
 
 While talking, Uncle Tom was gathering up his 
 cane, his lantern, and his hat, for he was a good-hearted 
 old fellow, and knew how to pity the weakness of 
 others ; and he knew, too, that ridicule was not the 
 best way to remove Little-John's superstitious fears. 
 
 " So, my boy," said he to him, " you have been list- 
 ening to stories about ghosts ? You have been told 
 that the devil and hobgoblins sometimes visited the 
 world to frighten and torment people ? Now, remem- 
 ber what I tell you, there is not a word of truth in any 
 of it ; there are no such things as spirits that return. 
 They never have and never will be seen, because 
 there are none. As to the devil, it is very true he 
 tempts and often urges us to evil ; but all that is in our 
 thoughts, and God never permits him to become visi- 
 ble to us. When you hear people relating such wonder- 
 ful stories, ask them if they themselves have seen what 
 they describe. I will warrant they answer, no ; or, if 
 they do pretend to have seen any thing, it is always 
 at night, or they were half asleep — or, what is more 
 likely, blinded by their foolish fears. When we allow 
 ourselves to be thus overcome with fear, we are no lon- 
 ger capable of seeing or judging any thing in its true 
 light. This is how it happened, last winter, that Maria 
 mistook the miller's old white horse for a ghost, and 
 went to the minister, frightened half out of her senses, 
 to beg that he would protect her from it. The miller 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 85 
 
 has ever since called his horse Maria's ghost. I am a 
 very old man, now, and I have seen a great deal of 
 the world, yet I have never met with a sensible person 
 who had seen a ghost." 
 
 Little-John. But there are jack-o'-lanterns, Uncle 
 Tom. I saw one myself, the other night, in the big 
 meadow near the graveyard ; and I ran away very 
 quickly, for old Aunt Jane told me that they danced 
 before us to dazzle and lead us astray, that we might 
 fall in the water, or get lost ; and she says that they 
 are the souls of little children that died without being 
 christened. 
 
 Tom. Don't you believe one word of all these tales, 
 my child ; souls never return, and if they did, why 
 should they do us harm ? As to the jack-o'-lanterns, it's 
 all very natural ; they are produced by a particular 
 kind of air, which takes fire when in contact with the 
 atmosphere. This air, or gas, is generated in the earth 
 wherever there are animal remains in a state of decay ; 
 this is why jack-o'-lanterns are more frequently seen 
 about graveyards than elsewhere : what is more, they 
 are never seen except at night, for their feeble bluish 
 flames give too little light to be seen in the daytime ; 
 nor is it at all wonderful that accidents happen to 
 those who are so foolish as to follow them through the 
 darkness. The same accidents would be likely to oc- 
 cur were you to follow any thing else at night. When 
 I first went to sea, I awoke one ni^ht, and saw terrible 
 words written in letters of fire upon the deck of the 
 
 8 
 
86 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 ship. It was a trick of my messmates ; as I was a 
 greenhorn, they thought to take advantage of my ig- 
 norance, and amuse themselves with my fright : but 
 they missed it, for I was not the least alarmed, as I 
 happened to know what can be done with phosphorus. 
 
 Little-John. What is phosphorus ? 
 
 Tom. Phosphorus is a substance luminous at night, 
 because it burns slowly when exposed to the air. 
 When figures are traced upon a wall with a piece ot 
 phosphorus, these figures appear luminous in darkness, 
 until the small quantity of phosphorus rubbed off on 
 the wall is consumed ; so with figures drawn with 
 charcoal, they appear black because a small portion of 
 the charcoal remains attached to the wall. It is this 
 very phosphorus that causes the jack-o'-lanterns, and 
 it is found in the bones and brains of animals. Do not, 
 then, my boy, be easily frightened when you see any 
 new thing that may appear supernatural to you, for 
 you may be certain that when you come to examine 
 closely, and understand it, it will appear quite natural ; 
 but, understand it or not, you may rely upon it that 
 there are no such things as ghosts, devils, or evil 
 spirits, that come upon the earth to disturb the repose 
 of the living. 
 
 Little- John. But why do they relate such tales, if 
 they are not true ? 
 
 Tom. Generally for amusement, like any other fic- 
 tion. But it is a dangerous amusement, calculated to 
 lead into error children like yourself and ignorant 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 87 
 
 people. As to those who relate these tales seriously, 
 they from ignorance really believe what they relate, 
 or they are people with ill-balanced minds who delight 
 in the horrible and the supernatural ; but you must 
 always be as willing to receive the truths of our holy 
 religion, though you may not understand them, as un- 
 willing to give credit to such absurdities as ghosts and 
 goblins. 
 
 Continuing in this manner the conversation, Little- 
 John and Uncle Tom arrived at Margaret's cottage : 
 the old man wished the family a good-night, and re- 
 turned home. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 STORY OF TOBIT. 
 
 Little-John, growing to be a good stout boy, com- 
 menced going to school. As he had profited by Mar- 
 garet's lessons and good advice, he was distinguished 
 in the school for his good conduct, his obedience, and 
 his industry. He soon acquired the friendship and 
 esteem of his teachers, for good and docile children 
 are beloved by everybody. In going to, or in return- 
 ing from school, he never got into mischief by loiter- 
 ing on the way and playing with bad boys. He was 
 so attentive to his books, that in a short time he made 
 great progress. 
 
88 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 He had been going to school but a few months, when 
 one day he returned home in high spirits. He put his 
 basket carefully away in its usual place, and then ran 
 and threw his arms around his grandmother's neck, 
 and kissed her. When evening came, and old Mar- 
 garet had taken her knitting, and Louisa had taken 
 down her work-basket and commenced sewing, Little- 
 John took out of his basket a book that he had brought, 
 and commenced reading aloud, and remarkably well, 
 the following story : 
 
 " ' Tobit was an excellent young man, and served 
 God faithfully' "— 
 
 " What ! is it possible that John knows how to 
 read ?" cried the grandmother, letting her knitting fall 
 in her astonishment. " Come, my child, and let me 
 give you a kiss. It seems, Louisa, that you were in 
 the secret, as it does not appear to astonish you." 
 
 " Yes, grandmother, I was," said Louisa, jumping 
 with joy. " Little- John has known how to read for 
 more than a week ; but w T e preferred keeping the sur- 
 prise for you until to-day, as it is your birthday." 
 
 " Thank you, my dear children. Our cottage is 
 small, and poverty not far off; but you, my dearest, 
 render me happy. You are a noble fellow, John, to 
 have studied so hard to learn to read quickly, in order 
 to give your poor old grandmother such an agreeable 
 surprise ; and you, Louisa, you are a good sister to re- 
 joice as you do at your brother's success. Kiss me 
 again, my dear children ; and may God reward you 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 89 
 
 for all the happiness you cause me. Now let us hear 
 the story. Begin again, Little-John ; and Louisa and 
 I will listen to our little reader." 
 
 Little-John opened his book again, and commenced 
 reading, in a voice trembling with emotion : 
 
 " ' Tobit was an excellent young man, and served 
 God faithfully. While other young men of his age 
 adored false gods, shared the worship of pagans, and 
 participated in their unhallowed amusements, he bowed 
 to the true and living God, and abstained from all for- 
 bidden pleasures. When of age he married a woman 
 named Anna, and had a son that he named after him- 
 self, and whom he took care to bring up in the fear of 
 the Lord. 
 
 " ' The enemy invaded Tobit's country, and carried 
 him off into captivity, together with his wife, his son, 
 and all his household. When he dwelt in Nineveh, 
 the city to which his captors carried him, he continued 
 to lead an honest, upright life, and to serve God faith- 
 fully. He constantly endeavored to render himself 
 useful to his relations, his friends, and his companions 
 in captivity : he visited the sick, relieved the poor, 
 and consoled the afflicted. Meeting one day a coun- 
 tryman of his reduced to poverty and in great distress, 
 he loaned him a large sum of money. The man gave 
 him his written bond, and promised to return the 
 money as soon as he could. 
 
 " ' The king of Nineveh was a cruel ruler. He 
 harassed in a thousand ways the Israelites whom he had 
 
 8* 
 
90 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 captured, and put many of them to death. Those 
 that were slain were left lying in the street. Tobit, 
 wno knew that a respect for the dead is acceptable in 
 the sight of God, was in the habit of going out at night 
 and burying such bodies as he could find. The king 
 discovering it, confiscated all his property, and order- 
 ed him to be executed. Tobit warned in time took 
 to flight, with his wife and child ; but his property be- 
 ing seized, he was reduced to great poverty. But a 
 still more dreadful misfortune awaited him. One day, 
 when asleep under the eaves of his house, the filth 
 from a swallow's nest fell into his eyes, and rendered 
 him totally blind. Thus he was deprived of all means 
 of gaining a livelihood, and his only resource was the 
 labor of his wife, w T ho was obliged to weave for the 
 support of the family. 
 
 '"Under these accumulated misfortunes, Tobit 
 never despaired : his trust was in God, and he pa- 
 tiently called upon him night and morning for deliver- 
 ance. One day this good man, thinking that he was 
 soon to die, called his son to him, and after giving him a 
 great deal of advice for the guidance of his future life, 
 said to him : " My son, several years ago I loaned a sum 
 of money to one of our countrymen, who lives very 
 far from here in the town of Rages : here is his bond; 
 go, present it to him, and collect the money before I 
 die, for I wish you to have it." His son replied : " Fa- 
 ther, I am ready to do whatever you may wish, but I 
 have never been at Rages, and I am ignorant of the 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 91 
 
 route." — ■" My son," said the old man, " look about 
 town ; perhaps you may find some traveller going 
 that way w T ho will suffer you to accompany him." 
 
 " ' Young Tobias did as his father advised, and met 
 with a handsome young man, who offered to be his 
 guide. He took the young man to his father. Tobit 
 questioned the stranger ; was satisfied with his sensi- 
 ble and modest replies, and was delighted that his son 
 should have found a companion who appeared so 
 amiable and prudent. Young Tobias embraced his 
 parents, and set out accompanied by the house-dog. 
 As he travelled, he arrived near a large river called 
 the Tigris. Seating himself on the shore, he was about 
 to wash his feet, when a large fish leaped forth, and 
 would have devoured him. Tobias in a fright called 
 his companion, who said to him : " Seize that fish by 
 the gills, and pull him ashore." Tobias did so, and the 
 fish soon died. His guide said to him again : " Now 
 take out the fish's gall, put it up carefully, and take it 
 with you." Tobias did readily all that he told him. 
 The young men in the course of their journey, arrived 
 at the house of one Raguel, a wealthy man, and a re- 
 lation of Tobias's father : they were very kindly re- 
 ceived, and hospitably entertained. 
 
 " ' Their host had a daughter, good and virtuous, 
 and beautiful as she was .good. By the advice of his 
 young friend, Tobias asked her father to let him marry 
 her. Raguel consented, and with his daughter gave 
 him half his wealth. 
 
92 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 " ' During the wedding festivities, Tobias's com- 
 panion continued on to Rages, collected the money, 
 and brought it to him. 
 
 " ' Raguel endeavored to persuade Tobias to remain 
 some time with him. Tobias told him that he had al- 
 ready been from home longer than he intended, that 
 his father and mother counted the days of his absence, 
 and that they must already be suffering the most 
 cruel anxiety on his account. 
 
 " ' He started, then, with his companion on his re- 
 turn to his parents, taking with him his wife and her 
 large fortune. 
 
 " ' As he anticipated, his parents became very melan- 
 choly as his return was delayed. They grieved when 
 the appointed day passed without their son's arrival. 
 His mother, particularly, was constantly in tears, say- 
 ing : — " Alas ! my son, why should we have sent you 
 so far away ! You were the light of our eyes, the staff 
 of our old age, and the consolation of our lives ; all our 
 happiness was in you, and now we will die of grief if 
 you do not return." She went every evening and 
 seated herself upon a high hill near the road, and 
 watched for her son's arrival ; at last she perceived 
 and recognised him. She ran immediately to her 
 husband, crying out : " Here is our son !" When 
 Tobias and his companion got near the house, the 
 dog ran on before, as if to announce their arrival, 
 wagging his tail, and giving vent to his joy by loud 
 barking. Old Tobit had himself led forth by the hand, 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 93 
 
 and as soon as he found his son he embraced him 
 tenderly ; Anna kissed him, too, and they both shed 
 tears of joy, thanking God, with grateful hearts, for re- 
 storing to them their son. Then young Tobias, follow- 
 ing his fellow traveller's advice, took the fish-gall that 
 he had brought with him, anointed his father's eyes 
 with it, and the old man's sight was restored. 
 
 " ' All the family were filled with gratitude for the 
 good young man who had guided their son so safely on 
 his journey, and who had given him such prudent and 
 salutary advice. They all wished, by way of thanks, to 
 bestow upon him half the wealth that Tobias had 
 brought with him ; but he said to them : " You must 
 thank the Lord for all the good fortune that has oc- 
 curred to you. I am not a man, as you believe, but 
 an angel, sent by God to put an end to your misfor- 
 tunes. The Lord was touched by your patience, your 
 submission, and your confidence in him ; he has heark- 
 ened to the prayers offered up in the hour of your 
 affliction : thank him, then — love him with all your 
 heart, and serve him ever with all your might." So 
 saying, the angel disappeared, and left them filled with 
 gratitude and astonishment. 
 
 " ' The good man, Tobit, lived to extreme old age, 
 and saw his grandchildren's children. His family 
 were all happy, and continued to live in the fear of 
 the Lord, and in obedience to his commandments.' " 
 
94 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 FILIAL PIETY. 
 
 Margaret was overjoyed that Little-John should 
 have learned to read so very well and in so short a 
 time. She kissed him again, to show him how much 
 she was pleased with him, and then said to him : — 
 " Little- John, you have chosen there a beautiful story ; 
 why did you prefer reading that one to me ?" 
 
 Little-John thought a moment, and answered : " I 
 love young Tobit, because he was so obedient." 
 
 Louisa. Yes, and a good God, who loves obedient 
 children, rewarded him largely ; for, through him, he 
 consoled his parents, and restored the sight of his old 
 father. 
 
 Little-John. Oh ! how happy he must have been ! 
 When I grow up, I will make my dear grandmother 
 and Louisa happy too. 
 
 Margaret. When you are grown, my child, I shall, 
 in all probability, be no longer in this world ; but 
 God will bless you for your good intentions. You 
 remember the commandment, " Honor thy father and 
 thy mother, that thy days may be long in the land which 
 the Lord thy God giveth thee." You see he promises 
 to recompense those w r ho love and respect their 
 parents ; he grants them a long and happy life, and 
 the joy of beholding their children in their turn re- 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 95 
 
 paying them the kindness and attention that they 
 bestowed upon their own parents. 
 
 Little-John was of opinion that this commandment 
 was not difficult to obey, and that God was very kind 
 to reward us for loving our parents, a thing so easy 
 and delightful. " But," added he, " children that have 
 bad parents, are they to love them too ?" 
 
 Margaret. Yes, my boy ; they must love them, 
 respect them, and pray for them. If they perceive 
 their defects, they must endeavor, never to think of 
 them, and, above all things, they should never mention 
 them to others ; but, on the contrary, do all they can 
 to conceal them. When a child sees his parents do- 
 ing wrong, he should not imitate, but pity them, and 
 supplicate God to forgive them. 
 
 Little-John. Suppose wicked parents were to order 
 their child to do wrong, what then ? 
 
 Margaret. If sinful parents should order their chil- 
 dren to do that which is evidently wrong and offensive 
 to God, they ought not to obey. They should refuse 
 humbly, but firmly, taking care not to lose sight of 
 that respect which is always due to parents under all 
 circumstances. Happily, such people are rare, and 
 most parents give their children good advice, and set 
 them good examples. 
 
96 LITTLE-JOHN, 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 IRON. 
 
 Good old Margaret was so much pleased with her 
 grandchildren's good conduct, that she sought by ev- 
 ery means in her power to gratify them. There was 
 to be a celebration of some kind or other at a neigh- 
 boring city, and she promised to take them there if the 
 weather permitted. 
 
 The appointed day arrived, and the weather was 
 magnificent. Little-John awoke full two hours be- 
 fore his usual time, and nothing but the fear of dis- 
 turbing his grandmother prevented him from rousing 
 everybody up an hour before daylight. Six o'clock 
 came at last. Louisa had gotten her frock and new 
 apron, and John's blue jacket all ready the day be- 
 fore. They were so eager to be off that they would 
 have forgotten breakfast, if Margaret had not remind- 
 ed them of it. 
 
 The celebration was superb : the military, the tem- 
 perance societies, and the firemen marched through 
 the streets with flags and banners flying, to the sound 
 of martial music. The children were delighted. The 
 procession over, they strolled about the town : never 
 having seen a large city before, every thing that they 
 met with excited their wonder. Louisa would stop 
 before a drygoods store, and John would pull her away 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 97 
 
 to look at a toyshop. They were in admiration of all 
 they saw. Margaret bought a small locket for Louisa, 
 and Uncle Tom purchased a small spade for John. 
 They were both transported with pleasure. Louisa 
 suspended her locket to her neck by a narrow black 
 velvet ribbon. Little-John shouldered his spade, and 
 they all set off for home. 
 
 As they walked along, Little-John conversed with 
 his sister : he talked of nothing but gardening ; he 
 declared that there was nothing in the world more 
 useful or more convenient than a spade ; " and look," 
 said he, " how beautiful mine is ! it's the very thing 
 for a boy. Uncle Tom's is so heavy that I can barely 
 drag it along, but this is just the thing ; and how the 
 iron shines !" Louisa admired with all her heart her 
 brother's beautiful little spade. " And your locket," 
 continued Little- John, " that is still prettier, for gold is 
 more precious than iron." 
 
 " Little- John," said Uncle Tom, " if you had said 
 that gold was rarer than iron, you would have been 
 right ; but certainly iron is the most precious." 
 
 Little-John. But gold is the most beautiful. 
 
 Tom. That is very true, it is more brilliant ; but, 
 consider a moment how much more useful iron is. 
 To what purposes is gold applied ? To the manufac- 
 ture of jewelry, of ornaments, of plate, and other things, 
 attainable only by the rich ; but gold plate is not a 
 whit more convenient than our common plates and 
 earthen crockery. But as for iron — to what use is it not 
 
 9 
 
98 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 applied ? It is alike indispensable to the rich and the 
 poor; agricultural implements of all kinds — spades, 
 hoes, shovels, ploughs — are made of iron ; the carpen- 
 ter's, the turner's, and the wheelwright's tools are all of 
 iron. It is with iron that locks, bolts, hinges, &c, are 
 made. What would become of us were we suddenly 
 deprived of nails, of needles, of knives? — all of these 
 things are of iron. Among the savage nations that 
 have been discovered, the most miserable and the most 
 degraded were those that were deprived of the use of 
 iron. Their unwieldy hatchets were made of stone ; 
 unable to carve their meat, they tore it in pieces ; for 
 needles they used fishbones ; for weapons, bow r s and 
 swords made of hard wood. Be not astonished, then, 
 if those tribes which are acquainted with the value 
 of iron, without possessing it, should willingly give gold 
 to obtain it. 
 
 Little-John. But why do not those people make 
 iron ? 
 
 Tom. For a good reason, John ; iron is not to be 
 made. You can conceive that there are things that 
 cannot be made or manufactured, and which serve, 
 on the contrary, to manufacture all other things. 
 These things were created by God himself, and our 
 business is to see how we can best turn them to ac- 
 count. 
 
 Little-John. You say we cannot make iron ; how 
 do you procure it then ? 
 
 Tom. Iron is found in the earth, mixed with other 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 99 
 
 substances, from which it must be separated to turn it 
 to account : when in this mixed state it is called ore. 
 This ore is sometimes found in great quantities on 
 the surface, where all that we have to do is to gather 
 it up. Often also it is beneath the surface ; in which 
 case we are compelled to dig frequently to a consid- 
 erable depth to obtain it : these excavations of the 
 earth are called mines. But this impure iron would 
 still be useless, unless separated from the foreign sub- 
 stances with which it is mixed. To effect this object 
 fire is the agent. A lame fire is kindled in a furnace 
 made for the purpose ; the ore is thrown in, and the 
 melted iron runs from it in liquid streams, and is re- 
 ceived into moulds prepared for its reception. 
 
 Conversing in this way, Uncle Tom and his young 
 friends arrived at Margaret's cottage. A fire w r as 
 soon kindled, supper prepared, and the party seated 
 around the table, where they continued, as they ate, 
 to discuss the events of the day. At length, Uncle 
 Tom got up to take his departure for the night, when 
 Little-John reminded him of a promise he had made 
 him to take him a long walk into the country. Old 
 Tom remembered the promise perfectly, and appoint- 
 ed the following Sunday for its fulfilment. 
 
100 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 THE LAMB. 
 
 The following Sunday after church, Uncle Tom 
 called at Margaret's. Little- John ran to meet him. 
 " This is the day you promised to take me to walk, 
 Uncle Tom," said he. " I have been to church, and 
 grandma says I have been a good boy, so there is noth- 
 ing to prevent your keeping your word." 
 
 Tom. It was certainly my intention, John ; for in 
 little things as in great, whenever a promise is given, 
 even to a child, it must be kept if possible : so we will 
 set out, if you choose. But let us always look before 
 we leap ; consider before setting forth how your prom- 
 enade will end. Look at those large clouds conceal- 
 ing the sun ; feel how damp the air is : we shall cer- 
 tainly have rain ; indeed, I believe there are some 
 drops falling now. 
 
 Little-John. You are right, Uncle Tom. I would not 
 have you get w T et on my account, nor would I expose 
 myself to taking cold, and thus give trouble and anxiety 
 to my good mother. If I could do her any good, or 
 gratify her in any way, I would laugh at the hardest 
 rain ; but, as it is, I will amuse myself with seeing the 
 rain fall. 
 
 Little- John placed himself at the window, and watch- 
 ed the falling rain. It came down with tremendous 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 101 
 
 violence. A small stream, running near Margaret's, 
 was soon converted into a rushing torrent. Little- John 
 was delighted at seeing so much water. 
 
 " Louisa ! Uncle Tom !" he exclaimed, " come here, 
 come quick ; see how the water tears along ! There, 
 there goes a bundle of straw ; but, look yonder, what 
 is that struggling in the water ?" Without thinking 
 of the rain, or his new coat, he darted out. 
 
 " What is the matter ? where is he going ?" cried 
 Margaret, in alarm. " Little- John ! Little-John!" 
 
 But Little- John heard nothing ; he was running 
 with all his might, and he was already up to his chin 
 in the rushing stream. He soon struggled out, carry- 
 ing in his arms a young lamb, that had been swept 
 away by the current, and was on the point of drown- 
 ing. He returned, nearly as quickly as he went, and 
 laid the dripping lamb in the middle of the room. 
 
 " It is Mrs. Clarke's pet lamb," said he, " and I saved 
 it from being drowned. There it is, begging to walk." 
 
 Margaret could not help scolding a little. Louisa 
 kissed him for saving the life of such a pretty lamb, 
 and soon put out dry clothes for him. As to old Tom, 
 he saw every thing from the beginning, and without 
 taking his eyes off his little friend, he allowed him to 
 run out alone, being very much pleased to see the 
 courage and adroitness that he displayed on the occa- 
 sion. When the emotion caused in the family by this 
 little event had subsided, Little- John, who was pleased 
 
 with himself, and delighted to think of the pleasure he 
 
 9* 
 
102 
 
 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 should give Mrs. Clarke in restoring her lamb, com- 
 menced talking with Uncle Tom., and, as usual, plying 
 him with questions ; only, on this occasion, he talked 
 of the rain, as it reminded him of his achievement, 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 RAIN. 
 
 Little-John. Tell me, Uncle Tom, what is the use 
 of rain. It seems to me very annoying ; it prevents 
 us from walking, it soaks the ground, it covers the 
 roads with mud, and it was near drowning that poor 
 lamb. I should prefer fine weather all the time, with- 
 out ever having any rain at all. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 103 
 
 Tom. I will answer your question directly, John. 
 Tell me, first, why those beautiful pinks of Louisa's, 
 that you had charge of, died this summer. 
 
 Little-John. Because, for two whole weeks, I forgot 
 to water them. 
 
 Tom. Suppose, that during the two weeks, we had 
 had such a shower as is falling now, do you think 
 your pinks would have died ? 
 
 Little-John. No, certainly, Uncle Tom ; they woul^i 
 not have died, and Louisa would have had every day 
 a beautiful pink, for they were full of buds. 
 
 Tom. Well, my child, you can understand how the 
 rain could have repaired your negligence, and pre- 
 vented the pinks from dying. Now tell me, what 
 would become of the fields of wheat and corn from 
 which we get out bread, if it were never to rain ? The 
 stalks would wither, dry up, and die, as did your pinks, 
 and we should no longer have any thing to eat. Vege- 
 tables, fruits, trees, forests, whence we get our fire and 
 building wood, plants of every description, would per- 
 ish ; for they absolutely require water to live, and rain 
 furnishes them with this water so essential to their 
 existence. 
 
 Observe the wisdom of the means provided by God's 
 providence. Not only does rain fall at the proper 
 time for the nourishment of plants, but it falls upon 
 them drop by drop, so as not to bruise, break, or wash 
 them away, as it inevitably would, were it to fall in 
 heavy masses. From this too it results that the earth 
 
104 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 has time to imbibe the water to a great depth, and re- 
 main fresh and humid when it is not raining. Thus 
 it is rain serves to make plants grow. But this is not 
 all : it purifies and cools the air ; it supplies springs 
 and brooks, and consequently large rivers ; in a word, 
 it is by means of rain that water is distributed and 
 spread upon the earth. Neither plants, animals, no* 1 
 man can exist without water. Not only must you 
 t^ke water with your food, but you could not long sur- 
 vive in an atmosphere entirely devoid of moisture. 
 
 Little-John. Uncle Tom, I did not know all that. I 
 see now that rain is very useful, though it is now and 
 then rather disagreeable. I love to hear you explain 
 these things, and if I were not afraid of being trouble- 
 some, I would ask you where the rain comes from, and 
 how it is made. 
 
 Tom. It always gives me pleasure, my boy, to an- 
 swer any of your questions that are reasonable. You 
 know that when clothes are washed they are spread 
 out in the sun to dry ; you know, too, that when the 
 kettle is left a long time on the fire the water dimin- 
 ishes in it by degrees, until it finally disappears. What 
 becomes of the water that was in the wet clothes and 
 in the kettle ? You don't know. Well, I will tell you. 
 It is reduced to vapor ; that is to say, it is changed 
 into a kind of air that we can neither touch nor see 
 any more than the ordinary air we breathe. And 
 what is wonderful, is that water turned into vapor, 
 when it gets cold, becomes water again. For if we 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 105 
 
 place a cold plate over a vessel full of hot water, the 
 vapor soon collects on the cold surface in a multitude 
 of small drops, which uniting become larger, and then 
 fall. Well, it is precisely in this way that rain is 
 formed. 
 
 The water in brooks, ponds, rivers, particularly that 
 in seas that are so vast, is continually rising in vapor. 
 This vapor spreads itself in the air, and is invisible. 
 If a cold wind blows, it cools, and is formed into infi- 
 nitely small drops, so small that they yet float, though 
 we can see them, since they form the clouds. Then 
 these clouds continuing to cool, the small drops unite 
 and form larger ones, which, being heavier, fall by 
 their weight in drops of rain. You must not think, 
 though, that rain is only caused by a cold wind ; on 
 the contrary, the warm winds bring us the most rain ; 
 and this is easily understood. The warm air coming 
 into a cooler region, the vapor it contains is changed 
 by the cold into clouds and rain. When it is high in 
 the air that the vapor cools, it forms the clouds that 
 we see floating above our heads ; should it be near the 
 earth that this occurs, as you may have often observed 
 morning and evening in the valleys and low grounds, 
 the clouds thus formed remain a greater or less time 
 near the ground, and the weather is then said to be 
 foggy or misty. Fog is, as you see, nothing more 
 than clouds formed on the surface of the earth. 
 
 Little-John. Thank you, Uncle Tom. I think I un- 
 derstand how rain is made, and I see how useful it is ; 
 
106 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 still, if next week it could fall on any other day than 
 Sunday, I should not be sorry. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 THE BURNT-HOUSE. 
 
 As it happened on the following Sunday, the weath- 
 er was magnificent ; and Uncle Tom, faithful to his 
 promise, took his little friend a long walk from the 
 village, to a small farm called the Burnt-house. Uncle 
 Tom was welcomed like an old friend. Little-John 
 was delighted to find himself in the midst of a band of 
 little children, with whom he soon became acquainted, 
 and enjoyed himself exceedingly. Towards evening all 
 the family assembled around a table bountifully spread 
 with rich milk, fresh bread, fine October peaches, and 
 all the wholesome fare of a thriving farm. Little- John 
 was very happy to be with this numerous and amiable 
 family, and he only regretted that Louisa and his grand- 
 mother were not there to partake of his enjoyment. 
 
 At the table was another good old grandmother, 
 nearly as old as Margaret, whose hair was still whiter, 
 her son and son-in-law, stout good-natured farmers, 
 their two wives, and seven or eight children. These 
 people lived together in the greatest harmony, loving 
 one another like brothers, and all, except the very 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 107 
 
 youngest, laboring zealously for the common good. 
 Little-John, though very young, was struck with the 
 evident happiness of these honest people, and he un- 
 derstood that their happiness was the greater, from 
 there being the more of them under the same roof to 
 love and assist each other ; and he felt in his heart an 
 increase of the warm affection that he entertained for 
 his sister and his grandmother. 
 
 After supper he shook hands with all the little boys 
 and girls, allowed his pockets to be filled with ches- 
 nuts for Louisa, and with Uncle Tom took the road 
 homeward. They walked for some time in silence, — - 
 the old sailor no doubt thinking over some of his old 
 cruises, and Little-John repassing in his mind the 
 names paid the joyous faces of the little comrades that 
 he had just left, when he stopped suddenly, and said : 
 " Uncle Tom, why do they call that farm the Burnt- 
 house ?" 
 
 " My boy,'" said Tom, " it is an old story that your 
 grandmother can relate to you better than I, for I was 
 not then in the village. She was not either ; but she 
 was not far off, and she was the intimate friend of 
 that good old lady who entertained us so kindly." 
 
 Little-John related to Louisa the events of the day ; 
 told her how much he had enjoyed himself, emptied his 
 pockets into his grandmother's apron, and asked her, 
 even before taking a seat, why the farm was called 
 the Burnt-house. 
 
 " My child," said Margaret, " it is quite a simple 
 
108 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 story, with nothing about it very extraordinary ; but 
 it may teach ycu to commiserate the misfortunes of 
 others, and to rely upon God's providence. The old' 
 grandmother of all those pretty children that you saw- 
 is named Anna ; her husband was killed by a fall from 
 a tree. 
 
 " She had been a widow two years, and had great 
 difficulty in supporting herself and her two children 
 by her daily labor. However, winter passed off, and 
 spring came, and gave her some hope. But one night 
 her house took fire. She jumped up in alarm, wrap- 
 ped her children in their bedclothes, and escaped with 
 them to the yard. She then shouted for help : the 
 neighbors came, and did what they could ; but, water 
 being scarce, the fire devoured every thing that the 
 house contained. The linen, clothes, beds, furniture, 
 the cow in an adjoining shed, every thing was con- 
 sumed ; and when the fire at last went out, there was 
 nothing left but the bare walls. 
 
 " The neighbors, after endeavoring in vain to extin- 
 guish the fire, withdrew one after another to their 
 homes ; and when the last was gone, poor Anna re- 
 mained alone with her children, weeping over the ruins 
 of what was once her home. Robert and Mary nes- 
 tled up close to their mother, and wept at seeing her 
 weep. They were cold ; and the night seemed very 
 long. At length day broke ; Anna said : ' My chil- 
 dren, let us pray to our Heavenly Father : our only 
 hope is in him.' They all three knelt, and repeated 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 109 
 
 together, ' Our Father, who art in heaven.' In reciting 
 the prayer, Anna stopped several times, and had great 
 difficulty through her sobs in saying, ' Give us this day 
 our daily bread.' 
 
 " As they were finishing their prayer, Mary heard 
 near her the cries of a bird apparently in distress. 
 She turned around, and saw in a bush close by a bird's- 
 nest. The twig upon which it rested had been broken 
 off; the nest was upset, and the little birds were lying 
 upon the ground almost dead with cold, and the mo- 
 ther-bird was fluttering anxiously around the bush, 
 uttering cries of distress. Mary called her brother, 
 and both being touched with compassion for the poor 
 birds, they secured the nest on another limb, and care- 
 fully replaced the young ones. Then they took pleas- 
 ure in witnessing the joy of the poor mother, who flew 
 to them immediately, covered them with her wings, 
 and warmed them under her feathers. Anna herself 
 was for a moment diverted from her sorrows, and her 
 tears ceased to flow in contemplating this good deed 
 of her children. Seeing them smile, she said to her- 
 self: 'It is then true that the good that we do allevi- 
 ates our sufferings ;' and she took courage at witness- 
 ing this kind-hearted act of her children, for she thought 
 that as they were so compassionate, God would not 
 abandon them. At this moment she saw a lady com- 
 ing across the meadow. The lady approached her, 
 saying : ' My good Anna, come to my house. I heard 
 of your misfortune last night, and I have come for you 
 
 10 
 
110 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 and your children.' At the same time she beckoned 
 to her servant, who was carrying a bundle of clothes, 
 to approach. She clothed the children and their mo- 
 ther, and took them home with her, where she supplied 
 them with all that they needed. She then led them 
 into a good, comfortable bedroom, and said : ' Do not 
 be uneasy, I will take care of you until you can pro- 
 vide for yourselves ;' and as Anna and her children 
 were pouring forth their grateful thanks, she contin- 
 ued : ' My friends, it is to God that your thanks are 
 due, for it is from him that all our blessings flow. I 
 also offer him thanks, for I am grateful and happy that 
 he should make me his instrument in affording you 
 relief; we must aid one another, you know, that God 
 may aid us.' 
 
 " When the lady went out, Mary said to her bro- 
 ther : ' Do you remember the birds this morning ? 
 God charged us to relieve them ; and thus it is with 
 his creatures — he makes use of one to relieve another. 
 Let us, then, love God, let us thank him for the good 
 he does us, and let us, for the love of him, alleviate 
 when we can the sufferings of his creatures ; it is our 
 only means of proving to him our love, and he will do 
 unto us as we do unto others.' 
 
 " Anna thus generously assisted, returned to work 
 with renewed energy. God blessed her efforts ; and 
 she was finally enabled to rebuild her house. But she 
 determined that it should ever after bear the name of 
 the Burnt-house, that her children and her grandchil- 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. Ill 
 
 dren might be reminded to pray for their benefactress, 
 to rely in the hour of misfortune on the providence 
 of God, and to compassionate the misfortunes of 
 others." 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 One winter night, Margaret and her two children 
 were seated near the fire ; it was very cold, the wind 
 whistled without, and the fire burned clear and spark- 
 ling on the hearth. While the good old woman spun, 
 Little-John was seated on a stool at her feet turning- 
 over the leaves of his Bible, looking at pictures that he 
 had already seen a hundred times. He often interrupted 
 his sister to ask her what the people were about that 
 he saw in the pictures. Louisa, ever gentle, always 
 replied to him kindly. When the little boy had seen 
 every thing, he closed the book, and said : " Louisa, 
 listen to the ringing of the bells : they have been go- 
 ing all the evening, and people have been firing guns 
 and crackers. I should like to know what it is for." 
 
 Louisa. It is an old custom, in commemoration of 
 Christmas-day. This is Christmas-eve, and to-morrow 
 Christmas-day. You have learned from your cate- 
 chism what happened on that day. 
 
112 LITTLE- JOHN. 
 
 Little-John. Yes, it is our Saviour's birthday. You 
 have told me all about it, but I want to hear it again. 
 
 Louisa. Very well ; be attentive now, for another 
 time you will have to relate it to me. Joseph lived 
 with the Virgin Mary in the city of Nazareth, where 
 he followed the trade of a carpenter. They were 
 obliged to go to another city called Bethlehem. As 
 there were a great many people in this city, all the 
 dwellings and all the taverns were full, so that a stable 
 was the only place that Joseph and Mary could find 
 to lodge in. It was there that the Virgin gave birth 
 to the Saviour of the world. As soon as he was born, 
 she wrapped him in swaddling-clothes, and laid him in 
 a manger on a little straw. Near the city some shep- 
 herds were watching their flocks by night. On a sud- 
 den they saw around them a brilliant light, and they 
 were alarmed, but at the same time they saw an an- 
 gel, who said to them : " Fear nothing ; for I am the 
 messenger of glad tidings. There is born to you to- 
 day in the city of Bethlehem a Saviour, who is Christ 
 and the Lord. This is the sign by which you will 
 recognise him : you will find a child enveloped in 
 swaddling-clothes, lying in a manger." As soon as 
 the angel had spoken, the shepherds saw a great many 
 angels join him, and they all praised God, saying, " Glo- 
 ry to God in the highest, on earth peace, good-will to- 
 wards men." After that the angels disappeared, and 
 the shepherds heard nothing more. Then they said to 
 one another : " Let us go to Bethlehem, and see the 
 
LITTLE- JOHN. 113 
 
 wonder that the Lord has made known to us." They 
 went, and found the infant Jesus as the angel had told 
 them. 
 
 Little-John. Can I be like our Saviour when he was 
 small ? 
 
 Louisa. Certainly you may, in many things, for our 
 Saviour appeared as a child, that he might set us an 
 example from childhood to manhood. He grew wiser 
 and better every day as he grew older ; he was submis- 
 sive to his parents, to show us that application and obe- 
 dience are the virtues of childhood. Thus, John, if 
 you are industrious, obedient, and good, he will love 
 you. 
 
 Little-John. Grandma often says that our Lord loves 
 little children ; how does she know it ? 
 
 Louisa. Because during his life, when his apostles 
 repelled some little children that were pressing around 
 him, he said to them : " Suffer little children to come 
 unto me :" and then he eave them his blessing. Al- 
 though we can no longer see him now, he is still the 
 same ; from heaven above he looks down upon good 
 children, blesses and protects them. 
 
 Little-John. You, Louisa, you are not a child now ; 
 what will you say to our Saviour in your prayers to- 
 night ? 
 
 Louisa. I will thank him that he consented to live 
 in this world in poverty, and that he consented to earn 
 by his labor his daily bread, that he might comfort and 
 encourage the poor. I will tell him that since he loves 
 
 10* 
 
114 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 the poor, I do not complain that poverty has been my 
 lot ; and I will only ask him to give me the grace to 
 be always good, industrious, and obedient to my mo- 
 ther. 
 
 Little-John. Does our Saviour love the poor too? 
 
 Louisa. Yes, John ; you have just seen that his fa- 
 ther and mother were poor, and that when he was born 
 he sent an angel to the poor shepherds to announce his 
 coming. Most of his apostles and friends were poor 
 people, and he himself was very poor, since all the 
 cradle he had was a manner and a little straw, and he 
 was compelled to labor for a livelihood, and w r as in- 
 debted to charity for a burial. But he loves the poor 
 that are honest, industrious, and contented w r ith their 
 lot. As for the idle, and those who murmur at their 
 lot, or are envious of the rich, he loves them not. 
 
 Little-Jolin. Since God loves the poor he does not 
 love the rich, does he ? 
 
 Louisa. Not those that are avaricious, harsh, and 
 proud ; but those that are good and charitable are as 
 much beloved as the poor. For you see it is not be- 
 cause we are poor or rich that God loves us ; but it is 
 only on account of the good that we do. God loves 
 all men alike ; but it often happens that the rich, pos- 
 sessing the means of self-gratification, are more ex- 
 posed to temptation. And the poor should be con- 
 tented in their poverty, as it often saves them from 
 the temptation to sin. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 115 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 SNOW. 
 
 The Snowman. 
 
 " Oh how it snowed last night !" exclaimed Little- 
 John one morning as he awoke ; " every thing is white. 
 Look, Louisa ! every thing is covered — the houses and 
 the fields and the trees. Oh ! what fun I shall have 
 throwing snowballs at the folks as they go by I" 
 
 Louisa. You are going to snowball people, John! 
 It must be some bad boy that put that notion in your 
 
116 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 head ; would you be glad to see mischievous boys 
 throwing snowballs at grandmother ? 
 
 Little- John. Grandmother! no, indeed! Well, then, 
 I will not throw any at old people, or little girls. 
 
 Louisa. Take my advice, John, and do not throw 
 at anybody, unless it be in fun with your schoolfel- 
 lows, and then you should be careful not to hurt and 
 make them angry. 
 
 Little-John promised not to throw snowballs, kissed 
 Louisa, and went out. He was to go that day to help 
 Uncle Tom to pick up w r ood for a poor woman in the 
 village, who was sick, and without fire to cook or warm 
 herself by. As he walked along, he kept looking behind 
 him to see his footprints in the snow. At last he got 
 to Uncle Tom's, gave him a hearty shake of the hand, 
 and started with him for the woods. As they were 
 going out of the house, Little- John, seeing Uncle Tom's 
 face very pale, asked him if he was sick. 
 
 Tom. No, my boy, I am not sick : if I appear pale, 
 it is the natural effect of the sun ; you appear as much 
 so as I do. When you throw your ball against a wall, 
 it is thrown back by the wall, and returns to you ; so 
 it is with light when it falls on a white surface, — like 
 your ball, it is thrown back. This effect is called the 
 reflection of light ; and it is this reflection of light on 
 the snow that makes us appear pale. 
 
 Little-John. Uncle Tom, all this snow was not here 
 yesterday ; where does it come from ? 
 
 Tom. You know how rain is made. You remem- 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 117 
 
 ber I told you that water, reduced to vapor, spreads 
 itself through the air, until it meets a wind sufficiently 
 cold to turn it again to water ; but when the cold is 
 still greater, the very small drops of which the clouds 
 are composed become frozen, and, several uniting to- 
 gether, fall in the shape of snowflakes. 
 
 Little-John. I understand. Is snow as useful as 
 rain ? 
 
 Tom. Yes ; snow is particularly useful in protecting 
 delicate plants and such seeds as are sown before win- 
 ter. It covers them, and preserves them from contact 
 with the air, and thus saves them from freezing in in- 
 tensely cold weather. It is true, that it is, at times, 
 attended with inconvenience ;■ sometimes, by covering 
 the surface of the earth so deep as to prevent animals 
 from getting their food, they are exposed to perish 
 with hunger. In some countries, travelling becomes 
 difficult and dangerous, from the roads being covered ; 
 but in mountainous countries more than elsewhere. 
 Snow is sometimes the cause of dreadful accidents. As 
 the air becomes colder the higher we ascend, you can 
 easily conceive that the snow that falls upon very high 
 mountains never melts. It accumulates in immense 
 masses, which now and then detach themselves, and 
 roll down into the valleys with a thundering noise ; 
 crushing, in their fall, men, animals, trees, and houses. 
 Entire villages have been buried under these masses of 
 snow rolling from the mountains ; they are what are 
 called avalanches. 
 
118 LITTLE-JOIIX. 
 
 Little-John. I would not like to live in such a coun- 
 try ; I should always be afraid of being crushed by 
 the snow. And then when it falls from the tops of 
 the mountains, where it is so cold, into the valleys that 
 are so much warmer, it must melt suddenly, and inun- 
 date the whole country. 
 
 Tom. That is very good reasoning, John ; I like to 
 see you reflect upon what you learn. This time, un- 
 fortunately, you are mistaken, because you do not 
 know that ice and snow require so much heat to thaw, 
 that even in a warm climate they remain for a con- 
 siderable time before they are completely melted. As 
 to your fear of living in such countries and being 
 crushed by the snow, everybody is not like you. There 
 have been men found, who, for the love of God and 
 their fellow-beings, have abandoned friends and coun- 
 try, and gone to reside on these frozen mountains. 
 They are the monks of Mount St. Bernard. They 
 have built a house on the summit of a mountain of 
 that name ; and there the sole object of their existence 
 is to succor travellers exhausted by fatigue or lost in 
 the snow. They have trained for this purpose large 
 dogs, that possess a strength and intelligence truly sur- 
 prising. These dogs traverse in bad weather the dif- 
 ferent mountain-paths, carrying, attached to their necks, 
 a small basket, containing brandy and food. As soon 
 as one of them meets a traveller, he presents him the 
 basket, and then walks before, and leads him to the 
 hospital. But if it happens that a man falls over one 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 119 
 
 of those precipices concealed by the snow, of which 
 there are so many in the mountains, the dog scents 
 him, runs immediately to the house, and, by his loud 
 barking, warns the monks ; they, always on the alert, 
 issue forth, provided with ladders and ropes, and, fol- 
 lowing the dog, descend the precipice, at the risk oi 
 perishing themselves. When they succeed in draw- 
 ing the unfortunate traveller from the snow, bruised, 
 and half dead with cold, they take him to their house, 
 and there nurse and watch over him with the tender- 
 ness of brothers, until he is entirely restored ; and this 
 without inquiring whether he be rich or poor, and 
 without the slightest charge for all their kindness ; on 
 the contrary, if the rescued man be poor, they give 
 him alms and provide him with provisions to continue 
 his route. 
 
 Little- John. Oh ! Uncle Tom, how good the monks 
 of St. Bernard are to do so ! 
 
 Tom. You are right, John ; they offer a striking 
 example of the courage, the charity, and the devotion 
 that the religion of Jesus Christ can inspire in men for 
 their fellow- beings. We, too, are Christians, my dear 
 child ; and if we cannot do as much as they for our 
 fellow-beings, yet we should never let an opportunity 
 escape of doing what we can for their welfare. 
 
120 LITTLE-JOHN T . 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 THE FAGOT OF WOOD. 
 
 Talking thus as they went, Uncle Tom and his 
 little comrade arrived at the wood, and commenced 
 gathering the dead limbs blown off by the wind. Little- 
 John, at first, went very briskly to work, but he was 
 soon tired. He thought it tiresome and fatiguing to 
 be trudging about and dipping his hands in the cold 
 snow to get a few withered sticks ; it appeared to him 
 much more convenient to cut from the standing trees 
 whatever he wanted. But Uncle Tom said to him : 
 " We must not touch the trees, we have not permis- 
 sion." 
 
 Little- John. What harm will there be ? we will take 
 so little. 
 
 Tom. If every one in the village were to reason as 
 you do, the little that each one would take would 
 amount to a great deal ; and, besides, let it be ever so 
 little, it would still be theft, as these woods do not be- 
 long to us. 
 
 Little-John. But the owner of these woods is so 
 rich ! He never comes here ; and it is such a small 
 matter, these dead limbs that we are allowed to pick up. 
 
 Tom. You imagine, then, that because a man is 
 rich we are allowed to take what belongs to him ? 
 Doubtless it would be a still greater crime to rob the 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 121 
 
 poor, who have scarcely any thing ; but it is still 
 cowardly and wrong to steal from the rich. Instead 
 of finding fault with the owner of these woods because 
 he abandons to the poor the dead wood, ought we not 
 to be grateful to him for allowing us to take that which 
 he has a perfect right to keep for himself? 
 
 Little-John. Bat everybod}^ takes the growing wood. 
 Only the day before yesterday I saw T old Mrs. Dubois' 
 grandson taking home a turn of green wood. 
 
 Tom. If what you say is true, it is very deplorable ; 
 but do you be careful not to imitate such a bad exam- 
 ple. Because among your playfellows there are many 
 that are idle and mischievous, is that any reason that 
 you should be so ? 
 
 Little-John. Certainly not. 
 
 Tom. Well, then, because there are people in the 
 village who do that which they ought not to do, and 
 who are guilty of what is really a theft, must we, on 
 that account, become as criminal as they? On the 
 contrary, our duty is to teach them better by setting 
 them an example of probity, and of that respect which 
 all honest people must have for the property of others. 
 Listen ; I will tell you an anecdote from sacred histo- 
 ry that Louisa, perhaps, has not yet related to you, 
 and it will show you how God sometimes punishes, 
 in this world, those who unjustly seize upon the prop=- 
 erty of others. 
 
 11 
 
122 LITTLE- JOHN. 
 
 STORY OF NABOTII. 
 
 " Ahab reigned in Israel, with his wife, the cruel Je- 
 zebel. Ahab was wealthy and powerful. He had a 
 beautiful palace, and his gardens were splendid. But 
 he desired to make them larger, and for that purpose, 
 he wished to get possession of an adjoining vineyard 
 belonging to a poor man. He sent for the man, and 
 said to him : ' Sell me your vineyard ; I will pay you 
 well for it : or, if you like it better, I will give you an- 
 other in exchange.' Naboth replied to him : ' I do 
 not wish to sell my vineyard, because it belonged to 
 my father, and I wish my children to hold it after my 
 death.' Ahab did what he could to persuade Naboth, 
 but the latter steadily refused to part with his beloved 
 vineyard. Then Ahab returned to his palace. His 
 wife, Jezebel, observing that he was vexed, asked 
 him what was the matter. He told her that Naboth 
 had refused to let him have the vineyard, and that he 
 was very sorry for it, because he had set his heart on. 
 getting it. Jezebel laughed at him, saving : ' Truly, 
 your power is great indeed, that you cannot get that 
 vineyard ! Do you be easy ; I will undertake to get 
 it for you.' This wicked queen wrote to the magis- 
 trates of the city of Jezreel, where Naboth lived, and 
 ordered them to bribe false witnesses to swear that 
 they had heard Naboth blaspheme God and the king, 
 and to put him to death. Though this was a false- 
 hood, Jezebel was obeyed, so much were they in fear 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 123 
 
 of her cruelty and power. Naboth was stoned to 
 death. As soon as she heard it, she went and said 
 to Ahab : ' You may take Naboth's vineyard, for he 
 is dead.' Ahab went immediately to look at the vine- 
 yard ; but while he was there, the prophet Elijah came, 
 and said to him : ' You have killed Naboth and seized 
 
 upon his property. Now listen to what the Lord says : 
 " I will visit you with the deepest affliction, and I will 
 exterminate your whole family. Dogs shall devour the 
 body of Jezebel on the very spot where they licked 
 the blood of Naboth." ' Soon after, God executed these 
 terrible threats. Ahab died in battle, and all his fami- 
 
124 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 ly were destroyed. Jezebel was thrown, by her ene- 
 mies, from a window of her palace, and her body 
 abandoned to the dogs and devoured/' 
 
 After this story, Little-John continued to converse 
 w r ith Uncle Tom, and was so occupied with asking him 
 questions, and listening to his answers, that he no longer 
 thought of the fatigue of stooping, or of cold hands. 
 At last their pile of wood grew so large, that they 
 thought of returning home. As Little- John wanted to 
 carry his share, Uncle Tom tied up a small bundle for 
 him, which he shouldered. The old man took the re- 
 mainder, which made quite a heavy load, and they 
 soon arrived at the poor woman's house. Little- John 
 went to work immediately to kindle the fire, and while 
 he was about it, he overheard the sick woman talking 
 about him to Uncle Tom. She was saying : " He is 
 a good child — God will reward him." And then, again, 
 " Margaret must be very happy." When the fire was 
 made, Little- John said to his old friend : " I must go 
 now, for grandmother told me to return early, and she 
 is so kind, that I should be sorry to disobey her. Good- 
 by, Uncle Tom." 
 
 Little-John returned home. During the night, he 
 dreamed that he heard the poor sick woman's voice 
 saying : " God will bless him ! — Margaret must be very 
 happy !" And when he awoke in the morning, he was 
 as happy as he could be. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 125 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 THE HALF-DOLLAR. 
 
 Some days afterwards, as Little- John was crossing 
 the road, on his way from school, he saw a gentleman 
 mounted on a beautiful horse, followed by a man on 
 horseback also, who appeared to be his servant. The 
 little boy stopped to admire the beautiful animal as he 
 pranced proudly along. Suddenly he saw him rear, 
 and start violently to one side ; the gentleman lost his 
 stirrups, and was thrown with violence upon a heap oi 
 stones. His servant ran to him immediately; and John 
 ran, too, as fast as he could, to see if he was hurt. 
 He was so stunned by the fall as to be senseless. Lit- 
 tle-John thought immediately of going for water to a 
 neighboring spring. He ran, without waiting to be 
 told, filled his cap with water, and returned just as the 
 traveller opened his eyes. He took some of the water, 
 washed his face, and gradually came to himself. He 
 was not seriously injured — only a bruise on the fore- 
 head. He tied up his head in his handkerchief, and 
 prepared to continue his route ; but before mounting, 
 he gave Little- John many thanks for his kindness, and 
 asked him some questions about his parents, and gave 
 him a beautiful new half-dollar. 
 
 John ran immediately to show this treasure to his 
 11* 
 
126 LITTLE-JOIIN, 
 
 grandmother and his sister. When he had told them 
 of his adventure, Margaret said to him — 
 
 " Little-John, the gentleman's generosity was very 
 well ; yet what you did did not deserve any reward. 
 It is so natural to assist our fellow-creatures, and to 
 relieve those that are in want of our help, that there 
 are none but the wicked and the hard-hearted who 
 refuse to do it. Be careful, my child, never to render 
 a service of the kind in the hope of being paid for it. 
 The deed would be unacceptable to God, and despica- 
 ble in the eyes of men. However, I do not reproach 
 you ; you have accepted what was given you, and 
 that was nothing more than right. Now you may 
 keep this money, and do what you choose with it ; it 
 is yours." 
 
 So Little- John kept the half-dollar : now and then 
 he would take it out of his pocket to look at it, and 
 then he would think how he should spend it. 
 
 Two or three days after Margaret remarked that 
 he had ceased talking about it. She said to him : 
 " John, where is your money ?" 
 
 Little-John blushed, and replied in a confused way 
 that he had lost it. Poor Margaret's eyes were old, and 
 she could not see very well, but accustomed as she 
 was to read her grandson's heart, she perceived at 
 once that he was not telling the truth. She was 
 grieved, but asked no more questions, for fear of ma- 
 king him tell more falsehoods ; but she was sad for the 
 remainder of the day. That night after supper she 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 127 
 
 made Louisa bring her the Family Bible. She opened 
 it, and gave her the following story to read : 
 
 STORY OF ANANIAS AND SAPPHIRA. 
 
 " After the death of our Saviour the apostles com- 
 menced preaching. A great many Jews became Chris- 
 tians : they were baptized, and after receiving bap- 
 tism, they did nothing but serve God with all their 
 hearts. Many among them sold their houses and 
 their lands, and brought the money to the apostles. 
 All this money was put into a common purse for the 
 support of all the Christians, rich and poor, who lived 
 together as one family. There was among them a 
 man named Ananias and his wife Sapphira, who sold 
 their land. "When they received the money for it, 
 they resolved to retain a portion for themselves, and 
 to give the remainder to the apostles ; but in order to 
 appear not less generous than the others, they agreed 
 to say that it was all. Ananias went to Peter with 
 the money. Then St. Peter said to him : ' Ananias, 
 how has the devil tempted you, that you should tell a 
 lie to the Holy Ghost, and withhold a part of the 
 money ? Could you not have kept your field, if you 
 wished it ? and after having sold it, had you not a per- 
 fect right to do what you chose with the money? 
 How is it possible that you should have conceived 
 such a design, for you have not lied to man but to God ?.' 
 At these words Ananias fell dead upon the spot, and 
 some young men took out his body and buried it. 
 
128 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 "About three hours after Sapphira came in, not 
 knowing what had happened. Peter said to her, 'Wo- 
 man, have you sold your land for such a price ?' na- 
 ming the sum that Ananias said he had received for 
 it. ' Yes,' said she, 'that is all we got for it.' Then 
 Peter said to her : ' How is this ? have you agreed with 
 your husband to lie about it ? The people who buried 
 your husband are still at the door ; they will bury you 
 likewise.' Immediately she _fell at his feet and ex- 
 pired. The young men coming in found her dead, and 
 carried her out and buried her near her husband." 
 
 " What a frightful story, grandma !" said Louisa, 
 as she closed the book ; " it must then be a great sin 
 to lie ?" 
 
 Margaret. You see that it is, my child, since God 
 punishes it so terribly. All vices are hateful, but none 
 more vile or more despicable than this : a lie is an act 
 of cowardice. 
 
 Little- John was brave ; and the old sailor had taught 
 him that there was nothing more shameful than cow- 
 ardice : he exclaimed — " How can it be cowardly, 
 grandma ? I do not understand." 
 
 Margaret. I will explain it to you, my son. Cow- 
 ards are those who are prevented by fear from doing 
 their duty ; it is the duty of all men to tell the truth ; 
 liars conceal it through fear of some evil which pre- 
 vents their avowing it. You see, then, that a liar is a 
 coward, and he is despised by his fellow-men, and con- 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 129 
 
 demned by his God. The; mouth that utters a lie is 
 an abomination in the sight of God, says the sage, and 
 he who lies will not escape the justice of the Lord. 
 
 Little-John. Oh ! grandmother, when one has had 
 the misfortune to tell a falsehood, what must be done 
 to obtain God's forgiveness ? 
 
 Margaret. My child, the fault must be acknowl- 
 edged, and a firm resolution taken never to open the 
 mouth except to tell the truth. 
 
 " Well then, dear grandma," said Little- John, taking 
 the old woman's hand, " forgive me ; I told you a lie." 
 
 Margaret. And why, my child, did you deceive me ? 
 Have you then no confidence in me ? Am I not your 
 best friend ? If you did wrong, you should have avow- 
 ed it to me, and I would have aided you to make 
 amends for it ; on the contrary, by lying, you added 
 a sin to the wrong already committed. 
 
 Little- John. But, grandma, I did nothing wrong. 
 Here is how it happened. The other day, as I was 
 going to school, I met William and his little brother 
 James. You know how ragged their clothes are. 
 They were both of them sitting on the fence, and they 
 looked very sorrowful, for they were very cold. I 
 said to them : " What is the matter, boys ? why don't 
 you come to school now ?" William said : " We have 
 not had any breakfast ; there is no bread at our house." 
 Then I said : " Here, William, take my dinner, I can 
 go without ; I ate a hearty breakfast this morning." 
 They took all I had in my basket, and you never saw 
 
130 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 boys eat so. As I was going away, I looked at little 
 James's feet ; they were blue with cold, and full of 
 chilblains. It made me sorry to look at them. I had 
 my half dollar in my pocket, and as you had told me 
 that I might do what 1 chose with it, I had made up 
 my mind to buy chesnuts, and raisins, and almonds 
 with it, so as to give all the boys in school some. But 
 when I saw little James's feet, I said to myself: " Nuts, 
 and raisins, and almonds will do the boys very little 
 good ; but if James had a pair of shoes his feet would 
 get well." Then I did not buy any nuts, and in com- 
 ing from school I stopped at William's house, and call- 
 ed him out, and gave him my half-dollar, and told him 
 to tell his mother to buy a pair of shoes with it for lit- 
 tle James ; and I did not want to tell you about it, 
 because I heard you tell Louisa one day, that when 
 we did a good action we ought never to talk about it. 
 
 Margaret. God will bless you as I do, my child ; 
 you have been kind and generous. You repay me to- 
 day for all the trouble and anxiety that I have had on 
 your account. I can die now ; the poor that may 
 pass through this village will always find a piece of 
 bread at old Margaret's door. My God, I thank you 
 that you have given me a child with a charitable heart. 
 He will not be useless upon the earth, and however 
 poor he may be, he will always know how to be useful 
 to others. 
 
 And the good old woman shed tears of joy as she 
 pressed Little-John to her heart. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 131 
 
 At last she said : " I must reprove you, my dear 
 child, nevertheless. It is very true that we should not 
 be forward to speak of the good we do. Our Saviour 
 said, that when we give alms, our left hand must not 
 know what our right hand does ; but nevertheless, we 
 must not lie to conceal a good action. Remember, 
 my child, that nothing in the world should induce you 
 to speak against the truth, not even to save your life. 
 Certainly, you are not obliged to reply to all the ques- 
 tions that indiscreet or designing persons may ask you ; 
 you should give them to understand that you will not 
 tell them your secret, for we should always talk with 
 prudence and discretion : but if you do talk, never de- 
 ceive any one, not even those that may be ill disposed 
 to you. It is too late to-night, but to-morrow Louisa 
 will tell you the story of a man who preferred death to 
 telling a lie." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 STORY OF ELEAZER 
 
 The following day, when evening came, Little- John 
 took a seat near Louisa, and placed himself with his 
 arms crossed, in the attitude of a person listening. 
 Louisa understood at once what he wanted, and with 
 out making him wait, commenced the following story: 
 
132 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 " A little more than a hundred and fifty years before 
 the birth of our Saviour, a prince named Antiochus 
 made himself master of the country of the Jews. This 
 was one of the most cruel men ever seen. He was not 
 content, like other pagans, with worshipping false gods 
 himself, but did all he could to compel his subjects to 
 do so too ; and he hated the Jews bitterly on account 
 of their religion. He accordingly forbade them all to 
 observe the laws of Moses, and to pray to God, as was 
 the custom of their fathers, and he punished with death 
 those that disobeyed. Notwithstanding, a great many 
 Jews preferred risking their lives to acting against 
 their conscience, and they continued to adore the true 
 God, and to follow his precepts. 
 
 " Among them was a venerable old man, aged nine- 
 ty years, named Eleazer. They tried to force him to 
 eat meat that had been offered up to the false gods, 
 and which was forbidden by the law of Moses. But 
 he said : ' From my youth I have served God faith- 
 fully, and it is not at my age that I will commence to 
 disobey him.' Then they condemned him to death. 
 His friends, penetrated with grief, and full of pity for 
 his great age, came and said to him: 'Do you only 
 pretend to eat their meat : we will bring some other, 
 that we will put in the place of that which is forbid- 
 den : these bad people will think that you have done 
 what they want, and so you will save your life.' But 
 he answered them : ' No, I will not be guilty of such 
 deceit. I will not dishonor my gray hairs by an act 
 
LITTLE- JOHN. 133 
 
 of cowardice. I will not set such a bad example to the 
 young men, who will think too that I disobeyed God, 
 and may be induced on that account to do so likewise.' 
 And so this holy and venerable man was led to execu- 
 tion, and in dying he exclaimed : ' My God, you be- 
 hold the tortures that I endure ; but I am content to 
 suffer for your glory.' 
 
 " You see, John," added Louisa, " what a horror 
 this holy man had for deceit ; and see, too, how much 
 he feared to set a bad example : it is because he knew 
 that we ourselves are guilty of the sins that others 
 commit, induced by our example." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 CLOTHES. 
 
 Louisa was almost grown. She was gentle, good, 
 and obedient, the joy and pride of her grandmother. 
 Margaret often said to her — 
 
 " My daughter, you will not be rich ; at my death, 
 I will have nothing to leave you but my advice and 
 my blessing. The only fortune of a poor girl is her 
 character and her industry. Be then industrious, my 
 dear child ; thus you will keep from want, and remain 
 virtuous and happy. Take care, too, my dear, not to 
 acquire a fondness for dress and vain ornaments; a 
 
 12 
 
134 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 girl is little thought of who is seen occupied with such 
 trifles, and many there are who by this single propen- 
 sity have been led to shame and all kinds of misfor- 
 tune. If you are discreet and good, you will be suf- 
 ficiently adorned by your virtues. Let every thing in 
 and around you indicate order, cleanliness, decency; 
 let your behavior be modest and reserved : these are 
 the true ornaments of a Christian girl." 
 
 Louisa always listened to her grandmother atten- 
 tively, and she profited much by her lessons. Her 
 clothes were plain, but clean and neat; her hair al- 
 ways well kept ; her dress of brown linen, well made 
 and well put on ; her collar white and well plaited. 
 There reigned over her whole person an air of neat- 
 ness, at the same time of grace and gentleness, that 
 won all who approached her. Every year, about 
 Christmas, Margaret bought new clothes for her two 
 children. When Little-John got on his new pants, 
 his new blue jacket with its bright buttons, his shoes, 
 and his new hat, he was all happiness. But he was 
 not one of those idle and heedless children who pay 
 no attention to any thins : Uncle Tom had taught him 
 to think and reflect upon all that he saw. He asked 
 Louisa what cloth was made of. She said to him : — 
 
 " You remember, John, that at the beginning of 
 summer, last year, they sheared all the sheep ?" 
 
 Little-John. Oh yes ! . They were tied by the feet, 
 and they cut off their wool with large scissors. I 
 remember how chilly the poor things looked after- 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 135 
 
 wards, and they did not seem to know what to do 
 with themselves. 
 
 Louisa. Well, what do you think they wanted to 
 do with all the wool that was cut off the sheep ? 
 
 Little-John. I asked, and they told me that they 
 would wash it well and then make mattresses of it. 
 
 Louisa. True ; but w r ool does not serve only to 
 make mattresses ; it is spun like flax and made into 
 bed quilts, carpets, and ail sorts of fine and beautiful 
 things. It is also manufactured into cloth like that 
 your jacket is made of 
 
 Little- John. But how do they make it blue ? 
 
 Louisa. That is the dyer's work: he prepares the 
 colors so as to make them lively and lasting, and in 
 them he soaks either the spun wool or the stuff they 
 wish dyed. As to the colors, they are made of different 
 things : blue, for instance, is obtained from a plant 
 grown in warm climates, called indigo ; red is made 
 from a small insect found upon a plant growing in 
 Mexico and other parts of South America, or it is 
 made from the root of a plant that grows very well 
 with us, called madder ; and a variety of colors are 
 extracted from different kinds of bark, seeds, wood, 
 and metals ; and probably just to dye the flowers on 
 your handkerchief, it was necessary to use a great 
 many things that we do not even know the names of. 
 
 Little-John. And my muslin handkerchief — is that 
 made of wool ? 
 
 Louisa. No, your cravat is made of cotton. Cotton 
 
136 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 is a species of down, that covers the seeds of a plant 
 that grows in great abundance in our southern states. 
 When the fruit is ripe it bursts open, and the soft white 
 down hangs out like snowflakes. This is gathered 
 and taken to a machine called a gin, which sepa- 
 rates it from the seed : then it is manufactured into 
 different kinds of goods, such as muslin, calico, and 
 so on. 
 
 Little-John. Oh, I know how T that is done : I have 
 seen them in the mills. 
 
 Louisa. From the manufactured cotton, shirts, 
 sheets, towels, and handkerchiefs are made. 
 
 Little-John. Now for my hat, Louisa — where does 
 that come from ? and my shoes, how are they made ? 
 
 Louisa. I don't know much about it ; for though I 
 am older than you are, John, I have yet much to 
 learn. It seems to be the same with everybody, even 
 those that know the most ; the more we learn, the 
 more evident our ignorance becomes to us, and we 
 are constantly discovering new things that we are 
 ignorant of, and that we would wish to know. Thus 
 we have always some acquisition to make. You, 
 particularly, as one of these days you will be a man, 
 must learn as you grow ; you must notice every thing 
 around you, read good books in your leisure moments, 
 and question those that know more than you do. 
 
 " Well spoken, Louisa !" said Uncle Tom, who had 
 approached the children without their perceiving it, 
 they were so much engaged in their conversation. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 137 
 
 " You are very right, my child. Even I, old as I am, 
 learn something every day. A reasonable man ought 
 to acquire some knowledge every day of his life ; and 
 what is there more delightful or more useful, when the 
 labor of the day is done, than to employ the rest of 
 the time in self-instruction ? We qualify ourselves, in 
 this way, to be useful to others and to ourselves ; and 
 we experience the greatest delight in understanding 
 the wonders of nature and the ingenious inventions 
 of man, and in studying and imitating the works of 
 God. Believe me, then, John, and follow Louisa's 
 advice. Now tell me what you were talking about." 
 
 Little-John. I was asking Louisa how leather is 
 made, and what my new hat with long fur is made of. 
 
 Tom. Leather is made of the skin of a horse, ox, 
 calf, sheep, or any other animal of the kind, steeped 
 in a substance extracted from the bark of oaks and 
 some other trees. For this purpose, the skins are 
 placed for several months in vats filled with water 
 and ground bark ; this is termed tanning, because the 
 substance in the bark is called tannin. Thus tanned, 
 the skin is more pliant and lasting ; in a word, it is 
 leather. 
 
 Little- John. And my hat ? 
 
 Tom. Hats are made of the fur of rabbits or other 
 animals, strongly pressed or crowded together. Fur 
 has the property of sticking together when thus 
 worked, and forming what is called felt. This mate- 
 rial, when warm and wet, is soft and pliant; it is 
 12* 
 
]38 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 usually dyed black, and moulded into shape by allow- 
 ing it to dry upon a block of the required form. The 
 most valuable and beautiful hats are made of the fur 
 of the beaver ; very beautiful hats are also made of 
 silk. 
 
 Little-John. What is silk ? 
 
 Tom. Ask Louisa. She knows ; for I believe she 
 once reared silkworms. 
 
 But Louisa had gone to clean up the house against 
 her grandmother's return ; and John walked gravely 
 up and down the room, his admiration for his new 
 clothes increased, if possible, since he had learned how 
 each article was made. But a few weeks after, an 
 accident happened to his fine new coat ; it was torn in 
 several places. The way in which it happened was 
 as follows. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 THE FIGHT. 
 
 One Sunday, Margaret told John to dress himself 
 nicely in his new clothes, and to go and see the cler- 
 gyman of a neighboring village, who had promised to 
 lend her some books. She warned him particularly 
 not to lose time on the road, to be sure to arrive in 
 time for church, and not to approach nearer than he 
 could help to a pond along which the road passed. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 139 
 
 John set out, quite proud to walk through the vil- 
 lage in his new clothes. When he met any of his ac- 
 quaintance, he bowed to them politely, though he took 
 good care not to injure, as he did so, the rim of his 
 new hat ; and he avoided the dust and the mud for fear 
 of soiling his shoes and pants. 
 
 He got along smoothly until he reached the pond, 
 and there, as his grandmother had told him, he took 
 the far side of the road without approaching the edge ; 
 but as he got near the end of the pond, where the 
 water was shallow, he saw four or five of the village 
 boys hard at work, endeavoring to launch a boat that 
 had been drawn high up on the shore. Though they 
 had not obtained permission, they wished to set it 
 afloat in order to row about the pond ; but, as the boat 
 was very heavy, they found it hard work. As soon 
 as they espied John, they shouted to him to come and 
 help them. Little-John stopped for a moment to look 
 at them ; he thought it was fine sport, but, remember- 
 ing Margaret's advice, he was about to continue his 
 route, when the boys ran up and surrounded him, say- 
 ing : " Come along, Little- John — come ; we will have 
 such fun !" John replied to them that he wished to 
 get to church in time, and that his grandmother had 
 forbidden him to go near the pond. Then these bad 
 boys laughed at him, advising him to remain with 
 them, and to lie to his grandmother to prevent her 
 from finding it out. John had a horror of lying. He 
 colored up and said : " I will neither lie nor be disobe- 
 
140 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 dient : I will go to church, for this is Sunday." And 
 he was proceeding on his way ; but one of the boys — 
 the same fellow that, a long time before, had knocked 
 him down and upset his apples in the mud — barred his 
 way, saying : " Let us make him go ; pull him along, 
 boys — I will push him." 
 
 Little- John was not the strongest. In vain he cried 
 out, " Let me alone, you will tear my coat ; I will not 
 go." In vain he struggled ; he was dragged towards 
 the boat. Then he allowed himself to be led some 
 steps without resistance ; but when they got near a 
 ditch that they had to cross before reaching the boat, 
 he gave those in front of him a vigorous push, so sud- 
 denly that they fell over into the ditch ; then turning 
 quickly, he struck the big fellow behind him a severe 
 blow between the eyes before he had time to defend 
 himself. He profited by his astonishment to give him 
 a heavy fall ; picked up his hat, which had fallen in 
 the contest, and set off on his journey. The boys, 
 astonished and somewhat intimidated, contented them- 
 selves with abusing him at a distance, and throwing a 
 few stones at him. 
 
 When he arrived at the church he hid himself, to 
 repair, as well as he could, the damage that his clothes 
 had received : his coat was torn, two of the buttons 
 were pulled off, and his hat and pantaloons all covered 
 with mud. He was heartily ashamed of his appear- 
 ance, and somewhat sorry at allowing himself to have 
 been made so angry. Still, he thought it better as it 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 141 
 
 was than if he had disobeyed his grandmother, broken 
 the Sabbath, and remained away from church ; and in 
 saying his prayers, when he came to the words, " For- 
 give us our sins, as we forgive those who have sinned 
 against us," he did sincerely and with all his heart 
 forgive the bad boys who had treated him so cruelly. 
 
 After church, he could not muster courage, in the 
 condition that he was in, to call on the clemvman, 
 but returned home as speedily as possible, very much 
 crestfallen and ashamed of his appearance. Old Tom 
 was there. 
 
 " Why, John, what a pickle you are in !" exclaimed 
 his old friend ; " where have you been, my son ? have 
 you had a fight ?" Margaret and Louisa were not less 
 astonished or uneasy. Little-John commenced sim- 
 ply to tell them all that had occurred ; and when he 
 got to where he managed to get rid of the boys so 
 well, "Bravo! well done, John!" cried old Tom ; "give 
 me your hand ;" and the old man shook him heartily by 
 the hand. "Never seek a quarrel, my boy, but always 
 stand up for your rights. What if your coat is a little 
 torn ? Louisa will mend it to-morrow : you are an 
 honest and brave boy, for you withstood temptation 
 and the example of those bad boys, who failed to per- 
 suade you to do what was wrong ; you need not be 
 ashamed, for you fought bravely. I will tell you 
 now of a battle, in which the weakest party, having 
 right and justice on their side, triumphed over the 
 strongest." 
 
142 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 John was caressed and praised by his grandmother 
 and sister; he ran up-stairs, put on his everyday 
 clothes, and returned in high spirits to hear Uncle 
 Tom's story. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE MACCABEES. 
 
 Tom. Louisa related to you the story of Eleazer, 
 who, rather than tell a falsehood, suffered death ? 
 
 Little- John. Yes, Uncle Tom, not long ago. 
 
 Tom. Do you remember the king Antiochus, who 
 ordered him to be put to death ? 
 
 Little-John. O yes ! I remember he was a very bad 
 man. 
 
 Tom. Well, this cruel prince, enraged at the Jews 
 for adhering to their holv religion, went to Jerusalem 
 with a large army, and took possession of the city, and 
 ordered his soldiers, during three days, to butcher 
 all the inhabitants they could lay hands on — men, 
 women, and children. He defiled the temple with all 
 sorts of crime and debauchery, stripped it of its orna- 
 ments and sacred vessels, and established within it the 
 worship of idols and false gods. 
 
 The wretched Jews fled to caverns to worship God, 
 and when they had assembled in great numbers, the 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 143 
 
 tyrant's soldiers kindled large fires at the mouths of the 
 caverns, and suffocated or burnt their miserable in- 
 mates. 
 
 Then an old man, named Mattathias, retired with 
 his family to the town of Modin. The king's officers 
 followed them, to compel such Jews as had taken 
 refuge there, to the worship of their false gods. They 
 attempted to bribe Mattathias and his children to com- 
 pliance, promising him the friendship of the king, to- 
 gether with unbounded wealth. But Mattathias re- 
 plied : " I will have none of your false gods ; should you 
 succeed in getting all my countrymen to submit to 
 your injustice, yet I, my sons, and my brothers will 
 ever remain faithful to our religion, and to the laws of 
 God." At the same time, he drew his sword, slew the 
 officer, overthrew the altar erected to the false gods, 
 and cried out : " Let all the faithful follow me !" and 
 he fled with his sons to the mountains. A number of 
 brave Jews joined him, and they formed a small army, 
 which began to make head against the enemy, and to 
 destroy the idolatrous temples. However, Mattathias, 
 feeling that he must soon die, called his sons about 
 him, and said to them: "We are now in the hour 
 of trial, but you must not despair. Put your trust in 
 God, for he never abandons the faithful. Simon, your 
 brother, is a man of sound judgment, follow his advice, 
 and let him be to you as a father. Judas Maccabeus 
 is full of courage, let him command your army." Mat- 
 tathias blessed his children, and died. 
 
144 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 Judas Maccabeus took his father's place. Assisted 
 by his brothers and friends, he succeeded in assembling 
 six thousand men. With this small army, he went 
 from city to city, driving out the pagans, and defeating 
 the military detachments that he encountered in the 
 open country. The fame of his exploits spread far 
 and near, and the enemy became alarmed. Two large 
 armies marched against him ; he defeated them, and 
 slew their generals. The king of Syria, enraged at 
 their brave resistance, resolved to destroy the Jewish 
 nation. He assembled another army of fifty thousand 
 men, gave the command to an able general, named 
 Nicanor, and ordered him to march against the Jews. 
 The Jewish army numbered but six thousand men, 
 and when those that were faint-hearted were allowed 
 to withdraw, it was reduced to three thousand. Every 
 one expected it to be crushed. Judas and his brothers 
 never faltered. They assembled their soldiers, and said 
 to them : " Do not fear this multitude. The strength 
 of armies does not consist in numbers, but in God's 
 protection, and God is with us. These people come 
 to despoil us, to exterminate ourselves, our wives, and 
 our children ; let us show, then, if it be necessary, how 
 brave men can die for their country and their religion." 
 They then offered up a prayer to heaven, called upon 
 the God of Israel for assistance, and attacked the ene- 
 my. Must I tell you all that happened ? 
 
 Little-John. Oh ! yes ; do, Uncle Tom, tell us all 
 hat occurred. What will the poor Jews do ? 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 145 
 
 Tom. Judas Maccabeus had stationed his small ar- 
 my in front of the enemy's camp, on the look-out for 
 what would occur, when he learned that Nicanor 
 had sent an able officer, named Georgias, with five 
 thousand infantry and a thousand horse, the flower of 
 his troops, to make a circuit and attack the Jews in 
 the rear, while he himself, with the main body of the 
 army, was to attack them in front. The Jews seemed 
 lost. ■ 
 
 Then Judas took a sudden resolution ; instead of 
 waiting to be surrounded, he ordered his troops to dash 
 at once into the enemy's camp, and set fire to it. 
 Nicanor's troops, astounded at seeing themselves thus 
 attacked by people that they thought already half 
 dead with fear, and alarmed at the flames that spread 
 rapidly from tent to tent, were seized with a panic, 
 and fled with the utmost confusion, throwing down and 
 crushing each other in their flight. Instead of pur- 
 suing them, Judas, remembering Georgias and his 
 strong detachment, prepared to receive him. This 
 last, when he reached the Jewish camp, was surprised 
 to find it deserted. He imagined that Judas had fled, 
 and after vain efforts to find him in the mountains, he 
 was returning with his troops, exhausted with fatigue ; 
 but, as soon as they perceived that their camp was on 
 fire, their companions in retreat, and the bold front of 
 the victorious Jews, they threw down their arms, and 
 took to flight, in spite of the efforts of their general to 
 rally them. Judas then ordered his trumpets to sound 
 
 13 
 
146 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 the charge. Without counting the wounded, the killed 
 amounted to nine thousand. After the victory, the 
 Jews returned thanks to God, for having afforded them 
 such powerful protection. All the wealth left by the 
 enemy in their camp was for the most part distributed 
 among the poor, the widows, and orphans. 
 
 Judas gained several other great victories, drove the 
 enemy from Jerusalem, purified the temple, and re- 
 built the 'altars that Antiochus had destroyed. This 
 prince was returning from a distant expedition, in 
 which he had hoped to enrich himself; but, as the 
 expedition proved unfortunate, he was exceedingly 
 melancholy. When he heard of the triumphs of Ju- 
 das Maccabeus, and the disastrous fate of his armies, 
 he was transported with fury. He determined to go 
 himself to Jerusalem ; and swore to exterminate the 
 Jews to the last man, and to bury them under the 
 ruins of their city and their temple. At the moment 
 when he took the oath, he was seized with an illness, 
 that occasioned him the most excruciating torture, but 
 he persevered, and even increased his speed. As his 
 chariot dashed along at great speed, he fell from it, and 
 was badly bruised. They were then obliged to carry 
 him in a litter. He was covered with sores, which 
 soon became alive with worms ; and his whole body 
 became one mass of corruption, and gave out the most 
 intolerable smell. Then he remembered the tortures 
 that he had made the Jews endure ; and, repentant of 
 the injustice and the cruelties that he had inflicted on 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 147 
 
 them, he promised to worship the true and living God, 
 to make peace with the Jewish nation, and to repair, 
 as far as he could, all the evil that he had done them. 
 But his repentance came too late ; he had not time 
 to accomplish his tardy promise, and he perished 
 miserably, in the most frightful agonies. His son, 
 also named Antiochus, determined to continue the 
 war, and his generals having been repeatedly defeated 
 by Judas Maccabeus, he determined to march against 
 the Jews himself, at the head of an army more numer- 
 ous and better appointed than any that he had sent 
 forth. 
 
 A hundred thousand infantry, twenty thousand cav- 
 alry, and thirty-two elephants, trained to war, marched 
 at his command. Each elephant carried on its back 
 a bower, made of wood, filled with skilful archers. 
 Judas, filled with confidence in God, marched forth 
 with his little band to encounter this formidable host. 
 During the battle, a young Jew, named Eleazer, re- 
 marked an elephant larger than the others, covered 
 with royal trappings. Thinking that king Antiochus 
 was upon him, and that if he were wounded or killed, 
 that his army would take to flight, he resolved to offer 
 up his life a sacrifice to save his country. He rushed 
 through the armed battalions, slaying right and left 
 all who opposed his progress, reached the elephant, 
 threw himself beneath him, and stabbed him to death 
 with his sword. The huge animal in his fall crushed 
 him to death. 
 
148 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 Little-John. Was the kino; on him ? 
 
 Tom. No, my child ; he was not. But the devoted 
 braveiy of Eleazer was not useless, for it intimidated 
 the enemy, and filled the Jews with ardor and courage. 
 Judas Maccabeus himself perished two years after on 
 the field of battle. A new and powerful army having 
 invaded Judea, his soldiers, panic-stricken, abandoned 
 him, with the exception of eight hundred. His friends 
 entreated him to retire. "No," said he, "it shall never 
 be said that I recoiled before an enemy. Let us rather 
 die fighting bravely for our country." With his eight 
 hundred men he attacked the enemy twenty-two thou- 
 sand strong ; but surrounded by this multitude he died 
 gloriously, after performing prodigies of valor. 
 
 Little- John. There was a brave man ! 
 
 Tom. Yes, my boy, a true hero, who offered up his 
 life without regret, for we may die contentedly when 
 we fight for our country, our liberties, and our honor. 
 But come and see me to-morrow ; it is a holiday, I be- 
 lieve ; and since you like to hear about heroes and 
 patriots, I will tell you about some that every Ameri- 
 can should look upon with pride and veneration. Be- 
 sides, we will take a walk to a place that you don't 
 expect. 
 
 Old Tom went his way, and John passed the re- 
 mainder of the day quietly with his grandmother and 
 sister ; and at night when he went to bed he sot to 
 thinking about the walk that Uncle Tom had promised 
 him. While he was trying to guess where he would 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 149 
 
 take him, he fell asleep, and slept so soundly that when 
 he awoke the next morning the sun was beaming in 
 his chamber. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON. 
 
 Little-John was faithful to the appointment that 
 he had made with Uncle Tom. The old man and the 
 little boy set out together like two good friends, and 
 took the direction of the mill. Little-John was so 
 happy that he jumped with joy. When he got more 
 calm, and walked quietly by the side of old Tom, he 
 could talk of nothing but Judas Maccabeus, his great 
 victories, his great courage, and his glorious death. He 
 went on at such a rate, that at last old Tom, who no 
 doubt had a great veneration for the history of the 
 Jews, but who was proud of the history of his own 
 country, in which he had been an actor, said to him : 
 
 " Judas Maccabeus was a great and brave man, and 
 you are right to admire him. But have I not told you 
 that Americans know how to fight too, and that we 
 have had men as brave and as patriotic as Judas Mac- 
 cabeus ? 
 
 " You remember, John, that on the 22d of last Feb- 
 ruary you had a holiday ? Well, that holiday was 
 
150 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 given in honor of General Washington's memory. He 
 was born on the 22d of February, 1732, in Westmore- 
 land county, Virginia. It would be impossible to im- 
 agine a man more admirably fitted in every way than 
 he to achieve the great ends for which Providence 
 seems evidently to have designed him. It would seem, 
 too, that he was born precisely at the right time, for 
 when his country required his services, he was of ma- 
 ture years, with all the noble faculties of his great 
 character fully developed. 
 
 " General Washington's father died when he was 
 but ten years old, but fortunately for himself and his 
 country, he had a mother — such a mother as the old 
 Romans would have erected statues to, and have hon 
 ored among the greatest of their land. This admira- 
 ble mother educated him in a manner to develop all 
 the high qualities of his nature, and to render him 
 equal to the glorious destiny to which Providence 
 called him. At eighteen, Lord Fairfax made him 
 surveyor of an immense tract of wild lands, that now 
 includes many counties. The occupation of a sur- 
 veyor was at that time, when the Indians were still 
 numerous, not only attended with great toil but con- 
 siderable danger. It was a calling better fitted than 
 most others to prepare a man for military life. 
 
 " Young Washington, with a constitution naturally 
 robust, became inured to toil, privation, and danger, 
 grew up to be a man of majestic form, and with a face 
 stamped with that peculiar grandeur of expression, 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 151 
 
 which marked him at once as one born to influence 
 the fate of nations. His military career commenced 
 as lieutenant-colonel of a Virginia regiment, when he 
 distinguished himself by his gallant defence of a little 
 frontier fort (called Fort Necessity) against an over- 
 whelming force of French and Indians, and though the 
 fort was captured, and he made prisoner, he received 
 the thanks of the legislature for his gallantry. In 
 1775, he was aid to General Braddock, when that 
 general, though warned by Washington, was surprised 
 by the enemy, defeated, and slain. Providence evi- 
 dently watched over the future saviour of his country 
 on this occasion, for Washington had two horses kill- 
 ed under him, and received five balls in his clothing, 
 without being hurt ; and it was entirely owing to his 
 skill that the survivors escaped, and returned in safety 
 to their homes. 
 
 " Soon after this commenced those acts of tyranny 
 and oppression, that drove our ancestors to that resist- 
 ance which ended finally in their emancipation. The 
 congress in Philadelphia looked for a man who might 
 guide his countrymen in the terrible ordeal through 
 which they were to pass ; and directed by an over- 
 ruling Providence, they selected George Washington. 
 Nobly and triumphantly did he justify their choice. 
 The annals of the world can scarcely show so perfect 
 a man. It would seem that God had endowed him in 
 their highest perfection with the very virtues and tal- 
 ents that his career most required. France had her 
 
152 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 Napoleon, but he sacrificed millions to his insatiable 
 ambition ; England had her Cromwell, but he degen- 
 erated into a tyrant ; ancient Rome had her Caesar, 
 but his ambition was too great for his virtue. There 
 are many illustrious men mentioned in history who 
 possessed as much talent as Washington, but none who 
 possessed his talents with his virtues ; and none who 
 engraved their names as imperishably as he in the 
 hearts of his countrymen. 
 
 " The history of our Revolution is a record of alter- 
 nate successes and defeats, from the battle of Bunker- 
 Hill to the final triumph at Yorktown. In every situ- 
 ation, in the dark hour of adversity, in the full tide of 
 success, in the depressing defeat, and in the elation of 
 victory, General Washington was ectmlly great ; and, 
 finally, he who might, if he would, have become a 
 king, died a plain farmer. 
 
 "When the war was over, Washington resigned 
 his commission, and retired to his farm at Mount 
 Vernon. Here he would have preferred to remain, 
 but his country, that he had defended so well in the 
 field, required his services in council ; and he was 
 unanimously elected first President of the United 
 States for two successive terms. Then, finding his 
 beloved country in a prosperous condition, he retired 
 to private life. This was in 1796. On Saturday, the 
 14th of December, 1799, he died, leaving a name that 
 will live until this world shall be no more. Truly it 
 was said in a funeral oration pronounced by the vir- 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 153 
 
 tuous and enlightened John Marshall, that 'he was 
 first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of 
 his countrymen.' " 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 SAILING IN A BOAT. 
 
 Thus conversing, the two friends arrived at the mill- 
 pond ; and as old Tom seemed to wish to stop with- 
 out going farther, Little-John, though very well satis- 
 fied with his walk, was surprised that it should be so 
 soon over, and that there was nothing so extraordinary 
 about it, as he had been led to believe. But he was 
 astonished and delighted when he saw Uncle Tom get 
 into the boat, and cast loose the rope that fastened it. 
 He cried out : " Oh ho ! you were right, Uncle Tom ; 
 I did not expect to take the row in the boat to-day 
 that they tried to force me to take yesterday. What 
 fun we shall have ! Thank you, Uncle Tom." 
 
 Tom. It is precisely because you behaved so well 
 and so bravely yesterday, that I wished to give you 
 this agreeable surprise to-day. I thought that you 
 would like to take a row upon the water, so I borrow- 
 ed the boat from the miller. 
 
 Little-John had perhaps never before experienced 
 such delight. Tom taught him how to row the boat 
 
154 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 himself. He pulled up to the beautiful yellow and 
 white flowers, with large green leaves, that he had 
 heretofore been compelled to admire at a distance from 
 the shores of the pond. He gathered a quantity for 
 Louisa, and he was astonished at the length of their 
 stems. At length his delight was at its height, when 
 Tom set up a mast, and hoisted a sail that he had pre- 
 pared beforehand, and of which he had said nothing. 
 He understood then how it was that the wind filling 
 the sail pressed the boat forward. He thought it very 
 pleasant to see the boat dashing along without the 
 trouble of rowing her. As the wind was high, he felt 
 somewhat intimidated at the speed at which they shot 
 along. It seemed to him that the trees on the shore 
 were running away at great speed, whereas, on the 
 contrary, carried along by the boat, it was he himself 
 that moved so rapidly; the steadiness and smooth- 
 ness with which the boat moved upon the tranquil 
 water, making it appear otherwise. Aftey they land- 
 ed, Little-John threw his arms around the old sailor's 
 neck, saying — 
 
 " Uncle Tom, you have made me very happy ; let 
 me kiss you ; for, do you see, I was thinking just now 
 that I was nothing but a poor foundling, and yet I have 
 great reason for being grateful to God, since he has 
 given me a mother like Margaret, a sister like Louisa, 
 and such a kind, dear friend as you are, whom I love 
 as if you were my own father." 
 
 Old Tom pressed the child in his arms, and turned 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 155 
 
 his head quickly away, for, rough sailor as he was, he 
 felt his eyes filling with tears. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 THE SUN. 
 
 During that same week Little- John made another 
 excursion that he enjoyed exceedingly. 
 
 One evening, Margaret told Louisa to go the next 
 morning very early and take home some thread that 
 she had spun for a farmer's wife, who lived five or six 
 miles off. John was allowed to go with her. Louisa 
 awoke some time before day; she called John, who 
 got up immediately. They said their prayers, and set 
 out while it was yet dark. 
 
 The stars were shining brightly, and the birds had 
 not yet commenced to sing. The sky in front of them 
 grew lighter and lighter ; the stars became dimmer 
 and dimmer, so that they could scarcely be seen. In 
 a short time the eastern sky became pink, then red, 
 then yellow, the light becoming brighter each moment. 
 Behind them, on the contrary, they could see the dark- 
 ness gradually disappearing. Suddenly the sun ap- 
 peared like a ball of bright fire, dazzling to the eye to 
 look upon. His brilliant rays spreading in every direc- 
 tion, illuminated the crests of the hills, the tops of the 
 
156 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 trees, and the column of smoke that peacefully curled 
 over the village. The birds began all at once to sing, 
 the flowers bloomed, and their beautiful colors, still 
 humid with dew, stood out in bright relief on the green 
 grass. Louisa and Little-John were untiring in their 
 admiration of the landscape, reposed and refreshed as 
 it were by the calmness of the night, and suddenly 
 lighted up by the pure soft morning light. John was 
 of opinion that the sun was very beautiful, very grand, 
 and a great invention. 
 
 " Do not forget," said Louisa to him, " to thank the 
 inventor, who is God : just think how many creatures 
 there are at this moment rejoicing in the light and 
 warmth of the sun ; for the sun shines for every cre- 
 ated thing — for the smallest insect as for man." 
 
 Little-John and Louisa arrived at the farm in high 
 spirits, and were kindly welcomed by the farmer's 
 wife, who was fond of them. She gave them a nice 
 breakfast of eggs and milk, and told them to run about 
 and amuse themselves until she got a bundle of flax 
 ready for them to take back. 
 
 The children went out to see the farm-hands at 
 work. They saw the cows milked, and admired the 
 pretty calves. But what interested them most was a 
 hen, surrounded by her little chickens. Their hearts 
 were moved at witnessing the constancy of this tender 
 mother, who, after sitting for three weeks upon her 
 eggs, seemed to brood them a second time after they 
 were hatched. In witnessing her anxiety, and the care 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 157 
 
 with which she scratched the earth to find them food 
 without taking any herself, Little- John said : " That is 
 the way our grandmother loves us." A large dog 
 came by and alarmed the brood. Little-John was 
 curious to know how the hen, naturally so timid, 
 would protect her young. What was his surprise 
 when he saw her throw herself before the enemy, 
 attack him courageously, and put him to flight ! He 
 then wished to see if she would be more afraid of him 
 than the dog, and was about to pick up one of her 
 young ones, when Louisa stopped him. 
 
 " You ought not/' said she, " to cause the poor 
 14 
 
158 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 creature any useless suffering ; the heart is hardened 
 by the habit of witnessing unnecessary pain even in 
 animals." 
 
 " You are a good sister," replied John ; " you are 
 right ; none but the bad-hearted take pleasure in inflict- 
 ing pain upon dumb creatures. In self-defence we 
 may kill them, for then there is a necessity for it, as 
 there is when we kill them for food or for profit. Is 
 it not so, Louisa?" 
 
 Louisa. All that is true, John, and does not prevent 
 our being of the same opinion; for you will agree that 
 there is a great difference between killing an animal 
 for its skin and its flesh, that we are in need of, and 
 tormenting it for the cruel pleasure of seeing it suffer." 
 
 The day was already far advanced, when the farm- 
 er's wife handed to Louisa the bundle of flax that 
 Margaret was to spin for her. The brother and sister 
 set out without delay, in order to reach home before 
 night, so as not to cause their grandmother any anx- 
 iety. As they walked along, they were surprised at 
 having the sun in their faces, as they had had it in the 
 morning. " Is it not singular," said Little-John, " that 
 we still have the sun in front of us, though we are 
 going in a contrary way from what we did this morn- 
 ing ? Look, Louisa, there is the darkness again behind 
 us, with the stars that are beginning to shine ; only 
 this morning it fled away fast, whereas now it seems 
 to follow us. The sun must have travelled a great 
 way to be where it is now." 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 159 
 
 Louisa. Uncle Tom says that the sun does not 
 move at all. 
 
 Little-John. That cannot be possible. Must we 
 not believe our own eyes ? did we not see the sun get 
 up from behind the big woods, and is it not descend- 
 ing now behind the church yonder ?" 
 
 It was dark when the two children arrived at home. 
 They found Margaret in conversation with old Tom. 
 As soon as Little-John saw the old man, he ran and 
 seated himself on his knee, saying : " The sun goes 
 around the earth, does it not, Uncle Tom ?" 
 
 "No, my boy," replied Tom, who understood imme- 
 diately what he wanted ; " the earth goes round the 
 sun. Do you not know that the earth is an enor- 
 mous ball ?" 
 
 Little-John. A ball ! no, indeed. I thought that the 
 earth was flat. 
 
 Tom. You w T ere mistaken. When we stand upon 
 the seashore, and a vessel comes towards us, we see 
 nothing at first but the tops of her masts ; gradually, 
 as she draws nearer, we see more and more of the 
 masts, until finally we see the vessel itself. If the 
 earth was flat, should we not see the entire vessel at 
 once ? Consequently, the earth is round. 
 
 Little-John. If the earth is round, we ought to be 
 able to go around it. 
 
 Tom. Certainly, we can travel around the earth, and 
 it can be done in eighteen months, or two years. I 
 have made two voyages around the globe. 
 
160 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 Little-John. Well, I give it up — the earth is round ! 
 
 Tom. The earth is, then, a large globe ; now, this 
 lar^e o;lobe turns around the sun, which is immovable. 
 
 Little-John. As to that, Uncle Tom, I must believe 
 it, because you say so ; but it seems to me — " 
 
 Tom. Well, go on, my boy — what seems to you? 
 You are right to take my word, because you know 
 that I have more experience than yourself, and that I 
 would not deceive you ; but it is still better to ask an 
 explanation of what puzzles you, in order to under- 
 stand it. 
 
 Little-John. It seems to me that I can see the sun 
 moving, and the earth standing still. If the earth 
 turned, should I not see it moving, with the trees and 
 houses on it? Besides, I can see the sun distinctly 
 moving with my own eyes. 
 
 Tom. No, my boy; if the earth turned, you would 
 not see it moving with the trees and houses, because 
 the same motion would carry you along. We must 
 not always rely upon our eyes, for they may often de- 
 ceive us. Thus, the other day, when you were gliding 
 along so smoothly in the boat, it appeared to you that 
 the boat stood still, and that the trees on the shore 
 were in motion — why? Because everything in the 
 boat, travelling as fast as you did, remained at the 
 same distance from your eyes ; while the trees were 
 at every instant at a greater or less distance. The 
 same thing occurs when we are moving with speed in a 
 carriage : all objects on the roadside appear to be flee- 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 161 
 
 ing away from us. Of the sun and the earth, neces- 
 sarily one moves and the other does not ; if your eyes 
 deceive you, and lead you to believe that the earth is 
 stationary, they must, at the same time, deceive in 
 inducing you to believe that the sun is in motion. 
 
 Little-John. Well, Uncle Tom, I believe now that 
 the sun is stationary, and the earth in motion, though 
 it appears to me to be just the reverse. I beg that 
 you will explain to me how it happens ; it is difficult 
 to understand it. 
 
 Tom. Not so difficult as you suppose, John. Place 
 yourself before the lamp, and turn yourself round 
 slowly : do you not see that it is sometimes your face, 
 and sometimes the back of your head that is in the 
 light. It is just so with the earth ; she turns in a way 
 to present the different portions of her surface to the 
 sunlight one after the other. One-half the earth, then, 
 must always be in the dark, while the other is exposed 
 to the light ; and, as it takes twenty-four hours to turn, 
 each portion of the globe is twelve hours in the sun- 
 light and twelve in darkness. 
 
 Little-John. But, Uncle Tom, the days are not all 
 twelve hours long ; they get shorter in winter, and 
 longer in summer, 
 
 Tom. Very true. It is only in certain countries 
 that day and night are equal. In the United States 
 we have sixteen hours of daylight in summer, and, 
 consequently, only eight hours of darkness. In winter 
 it is the reverse ; the nights being long, and the days 
 14* 
 
162 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 short. But you will be astonished when I tell you 
 that there are some countries in which the entire year 
 consists of a single night and a single day, each of six 
 months' duration. 
 
 Little-John. What ! there are countries in which we 
 can see the sun for six months in succession, and then 
 have a night six months long! That must be near 
 where those Laplanders live, that Louisa told me about. 
 But how can it be ? I should like to know. 
 
 Tom. A few years hence, after you have studied 
 geography, which is the description of the earth, and 
 astronomy, which is the science of the stars, you will 
 easily comprehend how a slight inclination of the earth, 
 with respect to the sun, causes the inequality in the 
 lengths of days and nights. But for to-day, it is suffi- 
 cient that you should know that day and night are pro- 
 duced by the earth turning upon itself, once in twenty- 
 four hours. 
 
 Little-John. Ah ! that reminds me of something that 
 I wanted to say just now. If the earth does not move 
 any faster, if it only makes one turn in twenty-four 
 hours, I am not astonished that I do not see it move. 
 It is like the hands of your watch ; they advance so 
 slowly that we do not perceive their motion. 
 
 Tom. Take care, John, you are talking without 
 thinking. I have already explained to you how it is 
 that you do not perceive the motion of the earth. It 
 is because you are carried along yourself by this mo- 
 tion, with every thing that surrounds you. Whether 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 163 
 
 the earth turns slowly or rapidly, you cannot perceive 
 it ; but, far from going slowly, as you suppose, the 
 earth moves with great rapidity. 
 
 Little-John. How so, Uncle Tom ? 
 
 Tom. When a cart-wheel turns, which goes round 
 most frequently, the hub or the rim ? 
 
 Little-John. One goes round as often as the other. 
 
 Tom. Do they go equally fast ? 
 
 Little-John. Oh, not at all ; as they both make the 
 same number of turns, the hub makes a small turn, 
 while the rim makes a large one. I have often noticed 
 it at the mill ; the shaft in the middle goes very slowly, 
 and the buckets go very fast. 
 
 Tom. Very well. You perceive, then, that if the 
 wheel was very large, the hub might turn very slowly, 
 while the rim would move very fast. 
 
 Little-John. Certainly. 
 
 Tom. Well, it is just so with the earth ; but, instead 
 of being a wheel, it is an enormous ball, that turns al- 
 ways in the same direction, once in twenty-four hours. 
 Consequently, the centre turns very slowly, while the 
 outside goes over an immense distance. 
 
 Little-John. Is the distance known ? 
 
 Tom. Exactly; for we have means of measuring 
 the size of the earth with great precision ; but the dis- 
 tance varies according to the points considered. If 
 you run one of your grandmother's knitting-needles 
 through an apple, and make the apple turn upon the 
 needle, its motion will be like that of the earth. The 
 
164 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 nearer you approach the needle, the slower the mo- 
 tion will be ; and the speed increases as you move 
 away from it. The size of the circle is in proportion 
 to the distance from the centre. Now, the circum- 
 ference of the earth, at the equator, is about 25,000 
 miles ; so that a house, or any other object, on the 
 surface of the earth, at the equator, must move at the 
 rate of 25,000 miles a day. But our country being 
 north of the equator, it does not describe so large a 
 circle ; yet, while we are talking here so quietly, we, 
 the house, the whole village, and every thing around 
 us, are moving at the rate of fifteen or twenty miles a 
 minute. 
 
 Little-John. Fifteen or twenty miles a minute ! no 
 one could go as fast as that. 
 
 Tom. Certainly not. 
 
 Little-John. There must be a great many countries, 
 one after the other, if the same one is not turned to 
 the sun more than once in twenty-four hours, when 
 we are going at such speed ; are all these countries 
 known ? 
 
 Tom. Yes ; nearly all parts of the earth have been 
 travelled over, except the vicinity of the two points 
 called the poles, where, as I told you, the whole 
 year is divided into one day and one night of six 
 months each, and where it is so cold that neither man, 
 animals, nor plants can subsist. You must not ima- 
 gine that the whole earth is habitable ; a great part is 
 covered by vast bodies of salt water called seas. There 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 165 
 
 are also vast countries called continents, but there is 
 four times as much water as land. 
 
 Little- John. And are there several continents ? 
 
 Tom. Yes ; there are three. One contains Asia, 
 Africa, and Europe ; the next is America, which has 
 been known a little more than three hundred and fifty 
 years ; and the third is New Holland, that has been 
 discovered more recently still. 
 
 Little-John. And all these countries pass each in 
 their turn before the sun ; so that while it is daylight 
 in one it may be night in another ? 
 
 Tom. Just so. 
 
 Little-John. How funny to think that all this turns ! 
 how it would amuse me to see it go around ! 
 
 And full of wonder at what he had learned, Little- 
 John commenced turning before the lamp, and as his 
 face was now in the light and then in the shade, 
 " Yes," said he, " it is all true ; now it is day — now it is 
 night." Then suddenly stopping, and after a moment's 
 reflection, he said : " Uncle Tom, you told me that 
 the earth went around the sun, yet I do not go around 
 the lamp ; I only spin round before it. Does the earth 
 only spin before the sun ?" 
 
 Tom. Certainly not. While it spins, as you very 
 properly express it, it makes a great circuit around the 
 sun, just as you would do, if continuing to spin, you 
 were to go around the lamp. It is this motion of the 
 earth, together with its inclination with regard to the 
 sun, that causes the change of the seasons, and the in- 
 
166 LITTLE-JOIIX. 
 
 equality of the days and nights. The time required 
 by the earth to go around the sun is precisely one 
 year : as while the earth is going around the sun she 
 turns three hundred and sixty-five times upon herself, 
 it follows that the year is composed of that number of 
 days. 
 
 " I understand very well now," said Little- John ; 
 " but it seems to me odd that such an immense mass 
 as the earth should be made to go around such a small 
 one as the sun." 
 
 Tom. So small, my boy ! you are not thinking ; 
 how often have I told you that we should sometimes 
 distrust our eyes, and learn to make a proper use of 
 them ! Do you not remember when they took down 
 the vane from the church-steeple last year, you were 
 very much astonished to find it as long as your arm, 
 when vou had thought before that it was not larger 
 than your hand ? 
 
 Little-John. True. I remember too that you told 
 me 'that the vane looked small on the top of the steeple, 
 because all distant objects appeared smaller in the dis- 
 tance than when close to us. 
 
 Tom. Well, then, do you not think that the sun ap- 
 pears smaller to you than it really is ? 
 
 Little-John. Oh, yes ; I can imagine that it may be 
 as wide as a great wagon- wheel. 
 
 Tom. As you imagine the sun to be wide, you no 
 doubt think it is flat ? 
 
 Little- John. Yes, certainly. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 167 
 
 Tom. Now, you are doubly mistaken. In the first 
 place, so far from being flat, the sun is an enormous 
 globe that gives out on every side heat and light, and 
 this globe is of such dimensions that you will find it 
 difficult to conceive. 
 
 Little-John. Is it as large as the earth ? 
 
 Tom. The sun is fourteen hundred thousand times 
 larger than the earth. The difference in size between 
 the earth and sun is as great as between the head of a 
 pin and your head. 
 
 Little-John. Good heaven ! I never would have im- 
 agined it. The sun must be very far off to appear so 
 small. 
 
 Tom. Certainly. To give you an idea of the dis- 
 tance, it would take a carriage, travelling night and 
 day, without stopping, at the rate of nine miles an hour, 
 fourteen hundred and fifty years to go from here to 
 the sun. 
 
 Little-John. That is wonderful, Uncle Tom ; but 
 there is something still more astonishing : it is, that we 
 should feel the heat of the sun at such an immense dis- 
 tance. 
 
 Tom. You may well admire such a wonder ; but it 
 is not enough that you should be astonished— these 
 things should lead you to think of the majesty and the 
 power of God, the author of these great works. See, 
 with what wisdom and kindness he has arranged every 
 thins; for our benefit. Nearer than he is, the sun would 
 burn us ; farther off, the earth would be too cold to be 
 
168 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 inhabited. The same effects would occur if, remain- 
 ing where it is, it were lamer or smaller. The two 
 motions of the earth are not the less indispensable to 
 our existence: if instead of turning on itself to expose 
 all its parts to the sun in succession, the earth were to 
 stop and present always the same side to the light, that 
 side would soon become arid and dry, whereas the 
 other, always plunged in darkness, would remain fro- 
 zen. Now suppose the earth to continue turning on 
 itself without going around the sun, the consequence 
 would be that there would be no change in the sea- 
 sons : the summer would be eternal in one place and 
 winter in another. But, thanks to the laws which a 
 good God has made, day and night, winter and sum- 
 mer, regularly succeed each other, favoring the growth 
 of animals and plants, and furnishing to ourselves the 
 proper degree of heat and cold, without which we 
 should not be able to live. Thus it is that with our 
 knowledge increases our power of appreciating all the 
 wonders that an all-powerful God has wrought for our 
 benefit. 
 
 Little-John, much struck at what old Tom had told 
 him, said his prayers that night with more fervor than 
 usual ; and it did indeed appear to him, that the pleas- 
 ure he found in praying to, and worshipping God, 
 increased with his knowledge. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 169 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 THE STORM. 
 
 One Sunday, after going to church as usual, Louisa 
 and Little-John took a long walk to a distant stone- 
 quarry. While they were amusing themselves with 
 looking at the enormous masses of granite that com- 
 posed an entire hill, and at the holes which had been 
 drilled in them for blasting, they did not perceive, at 
 first, that heavy black clouds were rising in the west, 
 portending a high wind. Louisa was the first to no- 
 tice it. Lifting her eyes, she said: " Do look, John, 
 how black the sky is : we are likely to get wet before 
 we can reach home ; it seems to me that I can hear 
 the thunder." 
 
 " That is a fact," said Little- John, " it is thundering 
 already ; let us make haste." And they both set out 
 at their best speed. 
 
 " Come, come, Louisa, let us be in a hurry ; how 
 anxious mother will be if we do not get in before the 
 rain ! I do not mind getting wet ; but I would not, on 
 any account, cause any anxiety to our dear mother." 
 Louisa clung to Little-John's arm, and they hurried 
 along, all out of breath. They had yet a wide field 
 to cross, to get to the village, when large drops of 
 rain commenced falling, vivid flashes of lightning suc- 
 ceeded each other in rapid succession, the thunder 
 
 15 
 
170 LITTLE-JOUX. 
 
 grew louder and louder, and suddenly, down came 
 the rain in torrents. 
 
 " Oh, heaven !" said Louisa, " what will become of 
 us!" — and, holding each other by the hand, they 
 dashed off, at their utmost speed, towards a large tree 
 that stood in the midst of the field, hoping to find shel- 
 ter beneath its branches. They found under it a bad 
 little boy from the village, who had taken refuge there 
 with two cow t s which he was driving in from pasture. 
 Meanwhile the storm drew nearer and nearer, and 
 became at each moment more terrible. The flashing 
 lightning and roaring thunder frightened Louisa, and 
 she w T as all in a tremor. "John," said she, "I am 
 very much frightened ; let us pray to our heavenly 
 Father to take pity on us." 
 
 " I am afraid," replied Little-John ; " that little boy 
 would tell them all in school, and they would laugh 
 at me." 
 
 "What! John," said Louisa, "have you so little 
 heart as to let the fear of a laugh prevent you from 
 doing what is right? If you will not join me, I shall 
 pray by myself." 
 
 Little-John, overcoming his false shame, knelt down 
 beside his sister and prayed. In fact, the little boy did 
 laugh and make fun of them. " Do you think," said 
 he, " that because you have prayed, the thunder will 
 stop short ?" 
 
 Louisa and John let him talk on without notice. 
 When they had done their prayer, they perceived that 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 171 
 
 the water was now beating through the leaves, and 
 that the tree no longer afforded them shelter. As they 
 were not very far from home, and as they preferred 
 getting wet to giving any further uneasiness to their 
 mother, they set out, and ran for the cottage. 
 
 " It was worth while to pray to God to get wetter 
 than I am," said the little boy as he saw them set out. 
 But Louisa and John had scarcely got thirty yards from 
 the tree, when they were nearly stunned by a tremen- 
 dous clap of thunder. They turned and saw, with 
 affright, that the tree was shivered. Not seeing the lit- 
 tle boy, they ran to call him, and found him stretched 
 lifeless upon the ground, stricken by lightning, together 
 with his two cows. At first they could not believe 
 that he was dead ; they called him, pulled his clothes, 
 and shook him ; but seeing that he did not answer or 
 move, that his eyes were fixed and glassy, and that his 
 half-open mouth was breathless, they fled away in 
 affright, and were soon in their mother's arms. 
 
 For more than an hour, this good old woman had 
 been a prey to the greatest anxiety,— row looking out 
 at the door to see if her darlings were coming — now 
 kindling a fire, and getting dry clothes ready for 
 them. 
 
 " God took pity on us, and nothing happened to us," 
 said the two children, throwing their arms around her 
 neck. They were so much moved by the rapidity of 
 their course, the roar of the tempest, and, above all s 
 by the death of the little boy, that they could not say 
 
172 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 another word, and commenced crying. While Mar- 
 garet was shifting their clothes, making them drink 
 some hot tea, and bestowing on them all the tender 
 cares of a mother, Louisa, somewhat recovered from 
 her fright, commenced relating all that had occurred ; 
 and when she came to the terrible stroke of thun- 
 der — 
 
 " Oh, my God !" cried Margaret, looking up and 
 clasping her hands, "I thank thee for saving my chil- 
 dren! what would have become of me hadst thou taken 
 them away !" and the big tears rolled down her cheeks. 
 " Do you see now, Little-John," said she afterwards, 
 " what it is not to know God and have faith in him ? 
 How r fortunate you were to have your sister by you, 
 to give you courage to pray, notwithstanding the false 
 shame that withheld you ! Perhaps God would have 
 punished you as he did that miserable child, if you had 
 been weak enough to be ashamed of your religion. 
 Always follow your sister's advice, and be thankful to 
 Heaven for giving you such a one. Promise me, 
 John, that when God shall have taken me from this 
 world, you will always consult Louisa, and that you 
 will never undertake any thing of importance without 
 her advice. Your sister may supply the place of a 
 mother when I am gone." 
 
 Little-John kissed Margaret, and then threw his 
 arms around Louisa's neck. 
 
 " I love and bless you, my dear children," said Mar- 
 garet, on seeing them thus in each other's arms ; " you 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 173 
 
 are the consolation of my old age. May you always 
 love one another : thus you will always be good and 
 always happy." 
 
 CHAPTER XLIL 
 THE THUNDER. 
 
 In the mean time, the thunder had passed away. 
 Old Tom came, as was his habit, to spend the Sunday 
 evening with Margaret. He had hardly taken a seat, 
 before the children related to him all that had hap- 
 pened. He listened patiently to the whole story; and 
 when they had done, he told them that he knew all 
 about it. He had seen the children in the field, and 
 was going out to bring them in when the lightning fell 
 upon the tree. After trying in vain to restore anima- 
 tion to the unfortunate boy, he returned sorrowful, 
 leaving the body in the hands cf the parents, who, 
 hearing of their misfortune, had hastened to the spot, 
 and were weeping over their dead child. 
 
 " Little- John," said Uncle Tom, after a moment of 
 silence, "if ever you are caught in a thunder-storm, 
 avoid, of all things, a tall tree ; for, at such a time to 
 seek shelter beneath one, is highly dangerous." 
 
 Little-John. Why is there more danger beneath a 
 tree than elsewhere, Uncle Tom ? 
 
 Tom. I will do my best to explain it to you, though 
 15* 
 
174 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 it is rather difficult, You must know that the liMrt- 
 ning, together with the noise called thunder, are pro- 
 duced by electricity. Electricity, when at rest, is a 
 thing that can be neither seen, nor touched, nor weigh- 
 ed ; but when in motion, it produces such effects that 
 it is impossible not to recognise its existence. 
 
 Little-John. That is very astonishing. Are there 
 things that can be neither seen nor touched ? 
 
 Tom. You know we cannot see the air we breathe. 
 So it is with heat ; we cannot see it, and it weighs 
 nothing ; for a piece of hot iron is not heavier than a 
 cold one. You may see the light, but you cannot 
 touch it ; and the existence of electricity is only per- 
 ceptible when it is in motion. 
 
 Little-John. Well, now I understand. 
 
 Tom. There are two kinds of electricity that always 
 seek to unite themselves, and it is only to do this that 
 they put themselves in motion ; so that after they are 
 united, they are no longer visible. But different causes 
 are constantly separating them ; so that it may often 
 happen that one cloud contains one kind, and another, 
 the other. Then, when these two clouds approach 
 near enough to each other, the two kinds of electricity 
 will dart upon each other, tracing in the air a line of 
 fire. This fire is called lightning, and in darting 
 through the air, this last is violently agitated, and pro- 
 duces the noise we call thunder. 
 
 Little-John. What ! Uncle Tom, the loud noise we 
 hear comes from the agitation of the air ? 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 175 
 
 Tom. Just as all other sounds do. When we draw 
 the bow of a violin across the strings, it gives them a 
 rapid motion of going and coming, which communi- 
 cates itself to the air ; and when the air, thus agitated, 
 strikes our ears, it gives us the sensation of sound. So 
 it is when we ring a bell ; the blows of the clapper 
 cause it to vibrate, and the vibration is transmitted to a 
 distance by the air, just as the undulations produced 
 by the fall of a stone in water are spread to a distance, 
 in circles, on the surface. The sound of the human 
 voice, too, is only produced by the motion that we 
 know how to communicate to the air in expelling it 
 from our lungs. 
 
 Little-John. There is another thing that I did not 
 know. Well, then, Uncle Tom, lightning is the elec- 
 tricity of one cloud which throws itself upon that of 
 another cloud, and the thunder is the noise of the air 
 displaced and set in motion by the act. 
 
 Tom. Very well. It may also happen, that the 
 electricity of a cloud, instead of throwing itself upon 
 that of another cloud, darts upon that of the earth ; 
 then we say that the lightning fell. 
 
 Little-John. So, when the lightning strikes any thing, 
 it is the electricity of a cloud, which precipitates itself 
 upon that of the earth, to unite with it. 
 
 Tom. Precisely ; you understand it now very well. 
 The impetuosity of electricity is such, that when it 
 comes in contact with a body in its passage, a steeple, 
 for instance, it shakes, and often overturns it : if it is a 
 
176 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 man or an animal, it kills, and if a tree, it shatters it. 
 And as, when the two electricities unite, a powerful 
 heat is produced, combustible materials are often set 
 on fire by it. It was to protect us from the terrible 
 effects of electricity, that the great Franklin, our coun- 
 tryman, invented lightning-rods. A lightning-rod is a 
 long rod of pointed iron, placed upon the highest part 
 of a house. Attached to this rod are others, which de- 
 scend to the earth. Electricity runs with the greatest 
 facility through the metal, and escapes freely and easi- 
 ly by the sharp points. When, then, it happens that 
 a cloud, charged with electricity, passes over a light- 
 ning-rod, the electricity ascends from the earth, by the 
 rod, to its points; thence it precipitates itself rapidly 
 upon that of the cloud, and unites with it, without 
 lightning, without noise, and consequently, without 
 danger. 
 
 Little-John. Now, Uncle Tom, explain why we 
 should not go under a tree in a storm. 
 
 Tom. You will easily understand it, my boy. A tall 
 tree, standing by itself in a plain, being the nearest 
 point to the clouds, it is upon it that the electricity 
 would be most apt to throw itself ; and once at its foot, 
 it would dart off upon the men or animals that hap- 
 pened to be near, because it can escape more readily 
 through their bodies than through wood. Your danger 
 to-day was so much the greater, from the fact of the 
 tree being wet with rain, as it was a still better con- 
 ductor of electricity to where you w r ere. You must 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 177 
 
 have observed that it was only after the rain had pen- 
 etrated the top of the tree, that your poor little com- 
 panion was killed. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 THE CONFLAGRATION. 
 
 One night, after he had gone to bed and was asleep, 
 Little-John was awakened by a distant noise. The 
 sounds were distant and confused, but they made him 
 uneasy. Listening attentively, the noise seemed to 
 increase and come nearer ; soon he recognised dis- 
 tinctly the voices of men, and finally, loud cries of fire. 
 He threw himself out of bed, ran to the window, push- 
 ed open the blinds, and saw the red glare of fire in the 
 sky, and all the houses in the village lighted up by the 
 flames. In an instant he was dressed and off. " Shall 
 I go for Uncle Tom ?" thought he : " no ; he is there 
 long ao;o/' and commenced running as hard as he 
 could towards the fire. 
 
 It was a horrible sight. The imprudence of a child 
 had set fire to a bed-curtain ; the flame spread, and 
 the whole house was soon in a blaze. A dense smoke, 
 filled with sparks, was rolling up towards the sky and 
 spreading out in dark clouds. A violent wind fanned 
 the flames, and carried into the air burning fragments, 
 
178 LrTTLE-JOHN. 
 
 that fell in a shower of fire. Happily, the wind blow- 
 ing from the village, the fire did not spread. Little- 
 John's heart was moved at the sight. The noise of 
 the wind, the roaring of the fire, the lowing of the cat- 
 tle that they drove with difficulty from the stables, 
 and, above all, the desolation of the farmer and his 
 family, excited him to such a degree, that he was about 
 to cry, when he heard a well-known voice : 
 
 " Little- John, I have been expecting you — you are 
 late. Quick, now, to work ! and let people see that 
 old Tom trained you." 
 
 It was, indeed, the old sailor, who, arriving at the 
 first alarm, cool and collected in the midst of danger, 
 was directing the efforts of the crowd, and setting an 
 example of activity and courage. While desiring that 
 John should lend a helping hand, he loved him too 
 much to allow him to expose himself, and ordered him 
 to pile up the furniture that had been thrown out. 
 John was working away with all his might, when he 
 saw a poor woman, wild with despair, pointing to a 
 garret window, and shrieking for her child that had 
 been left there. Little-John, filled with compassion, 
 forgets the danger ; he rushes to the door, ascends the 
 burning staircase, and reaches the room that contained 
 the child. Tom saw him enter, followed, and called him. 
 " What are you about, John ? Come back." 
 " Wait, Uncle Tom, I am wrapping him up." 
 " What is it you are wrapping ? Come along, you 
 have not a moment to lose." 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 179 
 
 " See here, Uncle Tom, it is a fine baby, but 
 very heavy. How fortunate that you are here ! I 
 should never have been able to carry it off; and now 
 the staircase has fallen, and I do not know how to get 
 down." 
 
 " This way," said Tom. " Walk along on that beam : 
 I will hand you the child ; do you descend the ladder, 
 and I will follow." 
 
 " No, no, uncle. How can I get down the ladder with 
 that heavy child ? Do you go first ; I will hand it to 
 you, and then manage to get out alone." Tom did not 
 stop to talk, but got upon the ladder ; he had descended 
 but a few feet, when a mass of flame burst from a 
 window nearly on a level with him, scorching him 
 badly, and cutting off John's retreat entirely from the 
 window above. Little-John retraced his steps quickly. 
 He ran to the stairs, but there was no hope there. He 
 returned, then, to the room where he found the child, 
 and seating himself on the window-sill, that was at a 
 considerable elevation, with a hard pavement under it, 
 he cried for help. " Help ! Uncle Tom ! help ! I can- 
 not find a way out." Tom, who had just restored the 
 child to its mother, runs, and sees the danger of his 
 young friend. All the ladders were too short to reach. 
 They had no rope, nor time to get one, to lash two of 
 them together. The good old man was in despair, and 
 the tears rolled down his cheeks. For the first time 
 in his life, perhaps, he had lost his presence of mind. 
 " What ! will no one try to save my boy ? Oh ! if I 
 
180 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 were only young and strong ! I will give my cottage 
 and all I have to save him !" But the danger was so 
 evident that no one replied to him. The flames were 
 steadily advancing, and John's danger became at each 
 instant more imminent. Suddenly old Tom cried out, 
 " He shall not perish. John, my child," said he, " re- 
 commend yourself to God, and jump." John obeyed 
 immediately, and at the moment the old man rushed 
 forward, caught him in his arms, and fell to the ground, 
 stunned by the shock. Another instant and the roof 
 of the house fell in. 
 
 John was not hurt in the least, and Tom, though a 
 good deal bruised, not materially. 
 
 Though not seriously injured, the old sailor was no 
 longer in a condition to give active assistance. Hap- 
 pily, too, the violence of the fire had much abated, 
 and was now under control. After advising them to 
 stop up closely the door and windows of a cellar, into 
 which the fire had penetrated, he returned with John 
 to Margaret's house. 
 
 The good old woman had also been awakened in 
 the night. She had called Little-John, to tell him to 
 go to the fire ; but he was already gone. Louisa 
 wished to run after him. " No, my child," said Mar- 
 garet to her ; " if I could walk, I would go myself; 
 but, as I cannot, do not leave me : let us offer up our 
 prayers for John's safety." Since that time they had 
 been at their prayers, stopping, now and then, to listen 
 if the noise diminished, and looking through the win- 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 181 
 
 dow to discover any signs of the fire going out. At 
 last their anxiety was changed to joy, when they saw 
 Little-John return in safety. After old Margaret had 
 heard all that had happened : " Little- John," said she, 
 " you have performed a good and noble action ;" and 
 placing her hands, trembling with age, upon his head, 
 she looked up to heaven, and called down its choicest 
 blessings upon her child ; and, then turning to the old 
 sailor, she said : " And you, Tom, should be proud, for 
 you have not only saved his life, but you have aided 
 me to sow in his breast the seeds of virtue that are 
 now yielding such fair fruit." 
 
 " I once saved old ' Ironsides' from running on a 
 reef," said the old man ; " but the pride and joy of that 
 day was nothing to this." Then, seizing John by the 
 hand, he added, as he warmly pressed it : " From this 
 day, John, we shall be friends and messmates." 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 WATER. 
 
 Some days after, as the cottage family were talking 
 of the occurrences at the fire, Little-John said to his 
 old friend : 
 
 " Uncle Tom, how is it that they managed to put 
 out the fire in the cellar, merely by closing up the 
 door and windows." 
 
 16 
 
182 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 Tom. It is very simple ; the fire was smothered, by 
 depriving it of air. Fire is nothing more than the in- 
 timate mixture of air and carbon, or charcoal ; and it 
 is this same mixure that produces heat. It is evident 
 that carbon without air cannot any more make fire 
 than air without carbon. As to the flame, it is nothing 
 more than air heated to such a degree as to appear red 
 and luminous. 
 
 Little-John. But there was no carbon in the cellar, 
 there was nothing but wood. 
 
 Tom. But you must know that wood is nothing 
 more than carbon and water, and it is the carbon that 
 burns. 
 
 Little-John. I understand that ; but there is another 
 thing that astonishes me, Uncle Tom ; it is that they 
 should have found so much water in the brook. You 
 told me that springs were supplied with water by 
 rain ; how, then, does it happen that that spring is run- 
 ning yet, when we have not had a drop of rain for 
 more than two months? 
 
 Tom. Because the rain, penetrating into the earth, 
 the mountains, and hills, collecting there in great 
 quantities, and escaping but slowly, can feed for a long 
 time a brook such as the one you speak of. 
 
 Little-John. That may be for a brook ; but I cannot 
 conceive a mountain to hold water enough to supply 
 a large river. 
 
 Tom. You forget, then, John, that rivers are formed 
 by the union of a number of brooks. If you can con- 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 183 
 
 ceive that one mountain or hill may contain sufficient 
 water for one spring, you can conceive that another 
 mountain may contain enough for another, and so for 
 a third, a fourth, &c. ; and, by uniting these brooks, 
 you will form the river that puzzles you. The sources 
 of most large rivers are to be found in high mountains, 
 the summits of which are sometimes covered with per- 
 petual snow. From their great elevation, the cold 
 there is very great. The snow and ice accumulate in 
 vast quantities, and, slowly melting during summer, 
 keep the rivers in a constant supply of water from 
 their sources to the sea. 
 
 Little-John. As so many rivers empty into the sea, 
 why does it not overflow and cover the earth ? 
 
 Tom. Never fear that, John, for the quantity of wa- 
 ter reduced to vapor on the surface of the ocean is 
 exactly equal to that which it receives from all the 
 rivers, and all the rains that fall into it. I have al- 
 ready explained to you how the vapor is converted 
 into snow and rain ; and it is this change from vapor 
 to water, and from water to vapor, that prevents the 
 rivers and springs from drying up. 
 
184 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 INSECTS. 
 
 Little- John. I heard at school the other day that the 
 water in the ocean, in the rivers, and even the water 
 we drink, contained an immense number of very small 
 animals that we cannot see, and of which we swallow 
 great quantities without perceiving it ; is it true ? 
 
 Tom. Nothing more so. 
 
 Little- John. But since these animals are so small 
 that we cannot see them, how can we know that ? 
 
 Tom. We must examine them through a glass call- 
 ed a microscope, which is made to enable us to see 
 very small objects ; and then in a single drop of water 
 may be perceived hundreds of animals of different 
 sizes, that swim, pursue, and devour each other ; just 
 as do sharks, whales, and other large animals. But 
 the works of the Creator are not less admirable in 
 their minutest forms, than in the structure of the largest 
 animals, and the arrangement of the sun and stars. 
 There is a whole race of small animals called insects, 
 whose structure and instincts form an inexhaustible 
 source of admiration to those who have leisure to 
 study them. All the different butterflies, sometimes 
 so brilliant and beautiful, that flutter from flower 
 to flower, were at one time hideous creeping cater- 
 pillars. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 185 
 
 Little-John. I have often heard so, but cannot un- 
 derstand how the change is effected. 
 
 Tom. Nor I either ; neither can I understand how 
 an egg, containing nothing but the yolk and the white, 
 is transformed into a chicken, covered with down, 
 jumping in the sun, and swallowing grain ; but you 
 may perceive, with a little attention and patience, that 
 the caterpillar, attaining a certain size, spins for itself 
 a covering with a silky substance drawn from its mouth, 
 and that it remains in this covering a certain time with- 
 out eating, and almost without motion. It is then a 
 chrysalis; at length the dried skin of the chrysalis 
 opens, the butterfly comes out, weakens the silky cov- 
 ering called a cocoon, by wetting it, and bursts forth. 
 
 Little-John. How admirable ! and what becomes of 
 the butterfly ? 
 
 Tom. It lives generally but a few days ; only long 
 enough to enable it to deposite a number of eggs, 
 which, guided by God's wisdom, it places in situations 
 most suitable for protection, and where the young cat- 
 erpillars, when they come out in the following spring, 
 can find an abundance of food. 
 
 Little-John. Hereafter I shall not look upon cater- 
 pillars with disgust ; heretofore I have been afraid to 
 touch them. At the first opportunity, now, I will feed 
 a few to find out what sort of butterflies they will 
 make. 
 
 Tom. Louisa ought to have made you feed silk- 
 worms. It seems to me that we have already had a 
 
 16* 
 
186 LITTLE-JOIIX, 
 
 talk about them. It is a large caterpillar, either white 
 or black, that feeds upon the leaves of the mulberry. 
 When first hatched it is very small ; it increases rap- 
 idly in size, and changes its skin several times ; and 
 when it becomes of the length and size of your finger, 
 it withdraws to a corner to make its cocoon. This 
 cocoon is formed of a single thread of silk, which, be- 
 ing of a gummy nature when fresh, makes it stick to- 
 gether like felt. The cocoons, about the size of pigeons' 
 eggs, are thrown into warm water, which dissolves the 
 gum, and the thread is then easily wound off by a reel, 
 ft is then readily manufactured into a vast variety of 
 articles. 
 
 Little-John. Hats are made of it. 
 
 Louisa. And ribbons. 
 
 Tom. Yes, my children. 
 
 Little-John. How singular that the industry of the 
 caterpillar should be turned to such good account ! 
 
 Tom. Silkworms are neither industrious nor skilful ; 
 they obey their instinct, that is the will of God : like 
 bees, whose labors are much more complicated, and 
 seem to require a greater degree of intelligence. 
 
 Little- John. I know that they make honey; but 
 what do they do that is so difficult ? 
 
 Tom. Under the guidance of a female bee, their 
 queen, they establish themselves in the hollow of a 
 tree, or in a hive prepared for the purpose. They 
 commence by stopping every crack and crevice with 
 a species of glue, that they know how to furnish when 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 187 
 
 necessary ; they only leave a very small entrance. 
 Some go to a distance to gather the dust and honey 
 from the flowers. This dust they carry upon their 
 thighs, and return loaded with it. On their arrival 
 others unload them, and with this substance make the 
 wax, of which their cells are built. These cells are 
 formed with the utmost regularity, and in such a way 
 as not to lose the least room. These cells are then 
 filled with honey for winter consumption, and closely 
 sealed with wax. Other cells are destined each to 
 receive an egg, deposited there by the queen only ; 
 their number amounts to about twelve thousand, all 
 deposited within three weeks. From each egg a small 
 worm, without legs, soon issues. These are regularly 
 and carefully fed by a certain portion of the bees for 
 five days : their cells are then closed with wax. Each 
 grub then spins itself a cocoon, and soon issues forth 
 a bee, and goes immediately to work like the others. 
 When among this multitude of young bees a queen is 
 hatched, a great tumult at once occurs in the hive. 
 The old queen attempts at first to kill the new one : 
 the young bees throw themselves in crowds between 
 the two ; then the old queen abandons the hive, ac- 
 companied by most of the old bees, and seeks an es- 
 tablishment elsewhere. This is what is called swarm- 
 ing. They all go and suspend themselves around the 
 queen, generally to the limb of a tree. They are then 
 swept into a new hive, where they recommence their 
 labors. If by chance several queens should be hatched, 
 
188 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 they then commence a general combat, which lasts 
 until there is but one surviving, for there is never more 
 than one queen in the same hive. 
 
 Ants also live in a social state, and work with won- 
 derful activity in excavating their subterraneous dwell- 
 ings, in accumulating food, in protecting their eggs, 
 their worms, and their chrysalids. When one of them 
 meets with an animal too large to be dragged along by 
 its individual strength, it seeks assistance from its com- 
 panions, and a hundred of them may sometimes be 
 seen dragging a dead worm or bug to the common 
 storehouse. If one of them should make the lucky 
 discovery of a ripe apple or peach, it runs at once for 
 its comrades, and they may be seen returning in long 
 files. Should one of them be accidentally wounded 
 or killed, it is immediately taken home. Should their 
 habitation be disturbed, they immediately rush in 
 multitudes to the point attacked, and do battle bravely 
 in the common cause. The fight over, the survivors 
 go to work immediately to repair damages with the 
 most indefatigable perseverance. Should they be too 
 frequently deranged, they go elsewhere and dig a new 
 dwelling, and when it is ready, they move into it, car- 
 rying with them all that are too weak or incapable of 
 marching. Sometimes, too, neighboring ant-hills make 
 war on each other, the two sides displaying as much 
 skill as courage ; and the struggle, after having lasted 
 several days, terminates in the entire destruction of 
 one of the two nations. 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 189 
 
 The instincts of spiders are not less admirable ; you 
 have no doubt often observed their beautiful star- 
 shaped nets. The spider places himself in the centre, 
 whence the different threads diverge ; he is thus ena- 
 bled to feel immediately the slightest shock given to 
 the net by a passing fly, and rush forth and seize the 
 unlucky intruder. If they grapple with an insect that 
 is too strong for them, or one of their own species, (for 
 they devour each other,) they endeavor to hamper and 
 bind him with their threads while they suck his blood. 
 Another species digs itself a dwelling in the ground, 
 well shaped, lined with silk, and with a regular lid to 
 the top. Another kind travel about with a bag upon 
 their backs containing their eggs, and they will some- 
 times allow themselves to be killed rather than aban- 
 don it. 
 
 Little-John. How wonderful ! I had not the least 
 idea that insects were so curious. 
 
 Tom. You have never heard, I suppose, of the lion- 
 ant ? 
 
 Little- John. No ; I never saw one. 
 
 Tom. They feed upon common ants, flies, small 
 grasshoppers, and other active insects ; but as they 
 themselves are clumsy and inactive, they would never 
 be able to catch one in the ordinary way. They dig 
 a hole in fine sand, in the form of a steep funnel : to 
 do this, they sink themselves until they are covered 
 with sand, and then by a peculiar motion of the back, 
 throw out to some distance the sand that is above 
 
190 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 them ; and so, throwing a little at a time, they suc- 
 ceed in digging a funnel-shaped hole, an inch or more 
 deep. At the bottom they bury themselves, all but 
 their pincer-shaped mouths, and wait patiently for their 
 prey. As soon as an ant or other small insect appears 
 on the edge of the hole, they throw upon it a shower 
 of sand, which causes it to slip and fall to the bottom, 
 where it is seized, dragged beneath the surface, and 
 devoured. 
 
 Little-John. Oh ! Uncle Tom, how I should like al- 
 ways to hear of such strange things ! 
 
 Tom. You would experience yet more pleasure, my 
 boy, in acquiring all this information by yourself, which 
 you may readily do with a little perseverance and pa- 
 tience. You will thus at each step discover wonders 
 that will speak to you, like the sun and the stars, of 
 God's infinite power and wisdom. 
 
 Little-John. But how can one learn all these things 
 all alone ? 
 
 Tom. All that is necessary is to have a firm will, 
 and to take the trouble. No doubt you must profit as 
 much as you can by the lessons and advice of others ; 
 but even should you receive no lessons, it would be 
 no reason for remaining in ignorance all your life. 
 That which we acquire by our own efforts we always 
 know best, and there is infinitely more enjoyment in 
 the acquisition. Persuade yourself, my dear boy, that 
 with a firm determination and obstinate industry, a 
 resolute man may arrive at every thing. We have 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 191 
 
 time enough, and I will tell you the history of a poor 
 boy, who attained great eminence, and did a great 
 deal of good to his country and to mankind, and who 
 achieved greatness entirely through his own exertions. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 HISTORY OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 " You remember when we were talking about elec- 
 tricity, I told you that the lightning-rod, that saved so 
 many lives, was invented by Franklin. Well, Frank- 
 
192 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 lin was born a great many years ago, in the year 1706, 
 in Boston. While he was yet a very small boy, his 
 parents thought that he showed more talents than chil- 
 dren usually possess at his age, and determined to give 
 him a first-rate education, in order that he might be- 
 come a clergyman. Unfortunately his parents were 
 poor, and at the end of a year they found the expense 
 of educating their son too heavy for them, and they 
 had to forego their cherished wish of seeing him one 
 day an eminent preacher. The boy was brought home, 
 and put to his father's trade, (that of a tallow-chan- 
 dler;) but melting tallow and cutting candlewicks suit- 
 ed neither his health nor his mind, and becoming dis- 
 satisfied he determined to go to sea. This design his 
 parents strongly opposed, as they had already lost a 
 son at sea ; they permitted him, however, to change 
 his occupation, and to choose one more congenial to 
 his tastes. 
 
 " His great fondness for books induced him to se- 
 lect the business of a printer, and accordingly he be- 
 came an apprentice to his brother, who at that time 
 printed a newspaper in Boston. Franklin, now twelve 
 years of age, soon mastered the mechanical part of his 
 profession. His thirst for knowledge growing upon 
 him, he employed every hour that could be spared 
 from his duties in gratifying it. As his mind expand- 
 ed, and became stored with knowledge, he aimed at 
 greater things : instead of reading and printing the 
 works of others, he was now ambitious to write and 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 193 
 
 print works of his own ; and a few pieces that he pub- 
 lished without a name in his brother's paper, by their 
 success encouraged him to persevere. Franklin's 
 brother was a harsh and severe man, and used him so 
 roughly, that after enduring it as long as he could, he 
 resolved to leave him. 
 
 " He went first to New York, where failing to get 
 employment, he went to Philadelphia. Here there 
 were at that time but two printing-offices. He fortu- 
 nately succeeded in getting employment in one of 
 them as a compositor. Here he was, then, four hun- 
 dred miles from home, but seventeen years of age, 
 and without friends or acquaintance ; but having by 
 his industry acquired the art of a printer, he was 
 enabled to gain an honest livelihood in an honorable 
 way. In Philadelphia he was not long in acquiring 
 the good- will and confidence of all his acquaintance. 
 In a short time he was induced to set up a printing- 
 office of his own ; and, as a preliminary step, he had to 
 go to London, in England. But here, too, deceived by 
 the representations of friends at home, he met with dis- 
 appointment, and found himself in a foreign city, utterly 
 penniless. But a strong mind bore him up superior to 
 adversity ; instead of giving himself up to despair, he 
 struggled manfully for an honest livelihood, and suc- 
 ceeded in getting employment as a journeyman printer. 
 While in England, he excited the admiration of his 
 own countrymen and the English, by his acute and 
 manly replies to the questions of a browbeating and 
 
 17 
 
194 LITTLE- JOHN, 
 
 tyrannical parliamentary committee. After remaining 
 for some months in Europe, he returned to Philadel- 
 phia, where, soon after, he made his immortal discov- 
 eries in the science of electricity. From this moment 
 he rose rapidly in reputation ; his fame, no longer con- 
 fined to his own land, spread over the earth as far as 
 commerce and letters penetrated. When came the 
 great struggle for American independence, no man 
 contributed more than he to the successful result. 
 He lived to the patriarchal age of eighty-four, and 
 died lamented by his countrymen and the civilized 
 world." 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 DEATH OF MARGARET. 
 
 Each day, Margaret was growing older and more 
 feeble ; she had already passed a whole winter with- 
 out being able to work. Louisa and Little-John had 
 watched over and nursed her with the greatest care 
 and affection ; and they were so fortunate as to earn 
 enough to support their good old grandmother as she 
 had supported them in their infancy ;. and they derived 
 energy from the thought, that they could now return 
 to their mother a part of the care that she had bestowed 
 upon them. They labored with zeal ; and as they did 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 195 
 
 more work than others, and as their work was better 
 done, they were employed in preference, and better 
 paid. 
 
 Margaret, touched by the tender affection of her chil- 
 dren, loaded them with blessings. " My life has often 
 been very painful," she would say — " I have seen die 
 off, one after another, all those that I loved, and I have 
 shed many tears ; but God has given me two grand- 
 children to soothe the decline of my life. I have now 
 but one thought, and it is for your happiness. If I 
 often tell you to be industrious, and to walk in the 
 paths of honesty and virtue, it is because I know that 
 they alone lead to happiness." 
 
 She employed all her remaining strength in giving 
 them good advice. She would say to John, " Do not 
 forget, my child, what I have always told you about 
 bad company; avoid the company of the idle — of 
 liars — of those who swear and are fond of drink, as 
 you would the greatest evil. Be abstemious in your 
 diet, frugal in your habits, and your health and purse 
 will be the better for it. Seek constantly to add to 
 your knowledge, and be grateful to your teachers. 
 Love and protect your sister. Be kind to every one, 
 and be always faithful to your God. Remember your 
 old grandmother, who, when she is gone, will not 
 cease to love and to pray for you." 
 
 The good old woman would also say to Louisa: 
 " My daughter, you will be happy — at least, as happy 
 as any one can be in this world — if you follow the good 
 
196 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 counsels that I have given you. Let industry, order, 
 and cleanliness, reign around you; be mild, patient, 
 and always ready to oblige ; be not indiscreet ; speak 
 ill of no one ; never meddle in other people's affairs, 
 or in the scandal of your neighborhood ; put a watch 
 upon your tongue, and never open your mouth unless 
 it be to say something useful or obliging. Pray often 
 to God ; for it is from him that strength and courage 
 come ; — and in all the actions of your life, strive to 
 forget yourself in seeking the good of others." 
 
 One day Margaret having talked to her children 
 longer than usual, she became very much fatigued. 
 She requested John to draw her great armchair to the 
 cottage door, for she could not walk. It was towards 
 the close of a summer's day. Little- John placed the 
 armchair under an old elm near the door. The poor 
 old woman felt herself warmed once more by the pleas- 
 ant rays of the setting sun. She heard once more the 
 tinkle of the bells, and the bleating of the flocks return- 
 ing to the fold. She listened to the singing of the 
 birds, but it was for the last time. When night came, 
 John carried his grandmother into the house : Louisa 
 trimmed the lamp, and took up her work. 
 
 " My daughter," said Margaret, " I should like to 
 hear your sweet voice again ; sing me a hymn." And 
 Louisa sang, though with a heavy heart ; for she saw 
 that her grandmother was not well. When she had 
 done, Margaret wished her to take the book and read 
 the evening prayers. The good old woman, though 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 197 
 
 she could not get up, clasped her hands, and joined in 
 prayer, without leaving her chair. After John and 
 Louisa had gotten up, she remained silent for a long 
 time ; then she sighed, and said : " My children, I feel 
 myself going ; draw near, and let me embrace you once 
 more ; for I surely shall not see to-morrow/' The 
 two children threw themselves sobbing at her feet. 
 Then she laid her hands upon their heads, saying : 
 "My dearest children, I bless you; I thank you for 
 the consolation that you have afforded me, and for the 
 soothing care that you have bestowed upon my old age, 
 I pray to God to reward, to bless, and to keep you both 
 virtuous and good. Always love each other, my dear- 
 est chil — " and her hand fell upon Louisa's. The two 
 children seized and covered it with tears and kisses. 
 Poor Margaret did not live to see the morrow. 
 
 The whole village mourned for her. She was buried 
 in the churchyard, under the old willow, in the very 
 spot where, fifteen years before, Louisa found Little- 
 John. 
 
 17* 
 
198 LITTLE- JOHN. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Louisa and John were obliged to seek employment 
 at a neighboring farmer's. They had much to endure, 
 for the farmer's wife had a violent temper. She was 
 continually finding fault, whipping her children ; and 
 made her husband very unhappy. But she herself was 
 more to be pitied than others, for she had no friends. 
 Louisa and John saw how detestable a vice ill-temper 
 was ; and that those who gave way to it were a misery 
 to themselves, and a torment to others. Louisa re- 
 membered what Margaret had told her about gentle- 
 ness, which is woman's greatest charm ; and she de- 
 termined always to be gentle and good. When the 
 farmer's wife spoke to her in anger, she took care, in 
 her replies, not to increase her irritation. She remem- 
 bered a saying of a wise man, that she had often heard^ 
 her grandmother repeat : " Avoid disputes, and you w T ill 
 cut the root of many sins." She knew, however, how 
 to obey and respect her masters, whatever were their 
 defects ; and when the ill treatment of her mistress 
 made her heart sad, she went to John, and they con- 
 doled with each other. They had, besides, good old 
 Uncle Tom to go to for consolation and encourage- 
 ment. 
 
 When John reached his twentieth year, the long- 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 199 
 
 pending misunderstanding between this country and 
 England finally broke out into open war. The excite- 
 ment throughout the country was, of course, intense ; 
 and the policy of the war was a constant subject 
 of discussion among all classes of people. John took 
 the first opportunity to consult his old friend Tom 
 on the subject, asking him how it could be that some 
 were for, and others violently opposed to the war. 
 The old man replied to him : " My boy, it is sufficient 
 for you to know that your country is in danger, and 
 calls upon her children for aid. War exists ; it is too 
 late now to ask why, or how. You, 1 am sure, are 
 ready to shoulder your musket and march. We can 
 always express our opinions of the measures of the 
 government, through the ballot-box, in a way to com- 
 pel them to be respected. Those who have the fewest 
 domestic ties, have the least excuse for remaining at 
 home. You are among these. Your path is plain, 
 and you will march in it, I am sure, like a good and 
 brave citizen." 
 
 The next day John had enlisted for five years. 
 Louisa was distressed at parting with him, but did not 
 attempt to dissuade him from what he thought his duty* 
 
 John served in the infantry. He had not long joined 
 his regiment, before his fine, open countenance, his 
 constant good-humor, and obliging disposition, had 
 made friends for him on all sides. It happened that 
 the colonel of the regiment had occasion for a private 
 who had some education. John was recommended. 
 
200 LITTLE-JOHN. 
 
 It turned out that the colonel was the very gentleman 
 that had been thrown from his horse, and that John 
 had carried the water to. He struck John on the 
 shoulder, saying : " You were a good boy, and appear 
 to be a fine young man. Conduct yourself well, and 
 I will be of service to you." And, indeed, John be- 
 haved so well, that he was rapidly promoted, and soon 
 became a sergeant. 
 
 In the first battle that John was engaged in, when 
 he heard the rattling of the musketry in front of him, 
 he felt his heart beat. He was accustomed to the dis- 
 charge of firearms, but the whistling of the balls made 
 him uneasy. When, however, he saw fall by his side 
 one of his comrades, an old schoolfellow, who had en- 
 listed at the same time with himself, uneasiness gave 
 way to anger, and he became impatient for the signal 
 to charge. 
 
 At last the colonel gave the word. The enemy are 
 in retreat. John is among the foremost in pursuit. 
 He wishes to revenge the death of his friend, and is 
 dashing on, without feeling the weight of his knapsack 
 and arms, when he hears a shout behind him : " Help ! 
 help ! Here, sergeant !" He turns, and sees his colo- 
 nel, thrown from his horse, down upon one knee, and 
 his sword broken. Six Indians, concealed in a thicket, 
 had fired at and wounded him. He had killed one, 
 who, thinking him dead, had rushed out to scalp him ; 
 but the five others were now charging on him. John 
 flew to the rescue, and handled his bayonet so well, 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 201 
 
 that in an instant he knocked out the eye of one, and 
 ran another through the body. The colonel, finding 
 one of his pistols still loaded, shot down a third. T' 
 two turned and fled, and John brought clown another 
 with his gun. 
 
 Two days after, the troops were reviewed. John 
 was ordered to step to the front, and was thanked in 
 the presence of the whole army, for his bravery in 
 savins; his colonel's life. 
 
 John's term of service was about expiring. The 
 colonel sent for him, and said : " You brought me as- 
 sistance when I lay wounded and fainting in the pub- 
 lic road ; and recently you saved my life. These are 
 things not to be forgotten. If you will consent to re- 
 main in the service, I will pledge myself to get you a 
 lieutenant's commission in three months ; and it will 
 not be my fault if you do not one day become a colo- 
 nel." Little-John blushed, and remained a moment 
 silent with embarrassment. Then he replied, with 
 emotion : " I thank you, colonel, with all my heart, 
 and I will never forget your kindness. If I were alone 
 in the world, I would gratefully accept your offer. 
 But I have, at home, a sister that requires my protec- 
 tion, and an old friend that looks upon me as his son. 
 Now, that I have paid my debt to the country, in 
 fighting my best, I prefer returning home to my friends 
 and acquaintances, to the plough and spade; and. to 
 see again, every Sunday, beneath the willow-tree, my 
 grandmother's tomb." " Go, then," said the colonel, 
 
202 LITTLE- JOHN, 
 
 squeezing his hand ; " yours is a noble heart. Do you 
 not forget me ; I will not fail to remember you." 
 
 John returned joyously to his home. Old Tom was 
 yet alive, and assembled all the boys to give him three 
 cheers as he entered the village. Louisa could scarce- 
 ly recognise him with his uniform, sunburnt face, and 
 moustache. She had married an industrious mechanic, 
 and John took great delight in riding her two beautiful 
 little children on his knee. 
 
 As everybody knew of John's honesty and industry 
 he was never out of work. When he had laid by 
 enough, and was certain that he could undertake to 
 support a family, he addressed one of the grand-daugh- 
 ters of old Annette, at the burnt-house. She was 
 poor, but he had remarked her when she was a little 
 child, the first time that Uncle Tom had taken him 
 there. Her name was Mary. He had observed that 
 she was always cheerful, obliging, and industrious ; 
 and, although he had said nothing; about it to the 
 colonel, the memory of this amiable girl might very 
 well have been one of the reasons for his return home. 
 Old Annette was delighted with the match. The 
 wedding-day w T as fixed, and though very happy, John 
 soon had cause to be more so. A neighboring land- 
 holder agreed to rent him a small farm in the neigh- 
 borhood. There was a small but excellent house up- 
 on it, the outbuildings in perfect repair, and the land 
 first-rate. He was to take possession on his wedding- 
 day ; so that after the ceremony, which took place at 
 
LITTLE-JOHN. 203 
 
 the burnt-house, he and his pretty wife returned joy- 
 ously to their new dwelling. He was much astonished 
 as he entered to find a gentleman there waiting for 
 him. It was the colonel ; who, pressing his hand 
 affectionately, said : " As I was passing through here 
 last month, I learned that you were to be married. I 
 wished to bring you a wedding present. I have a 
 right to do so, as I shall always be your debtor. 
 This morning, during your absence, I had the closets 
 supplied with house linen. I have put in the cellar 
 and elsewhere all the supplies that you will need for a 
 year ; and in the stable you will find two cows and 
 two horses. And here is something," added he, as he 
 handed John a packet, " that you must not open until 
 to-morrow. I hope it will please you ; and now, good- 
 by — remember me should you ever want a friend," — 
 and the colonel was off without waiting for thanks. 
 
 John and his wife were very curious to know what 
 was in the paper, and they were overjoyed on opening 
 it the next day to find themselves the owners of the 
 farm instead of being the tenants. The colonel had 
 bought and paid for every thing in their name. John 
 was a good farmer, beloved by his family, esteemed 
 and respected by his neighbors. He had several chil- 
 dren, that he brought up in the fear of God, and in the 
 love and practice of every virtue. Every thing around 
 him was peaceful and happy. Old Uncle Tom sur- 
 vived long enough to aid him with his good counsel, 
 and to become as beloved by his children as he was 
 
204 
 
 LITTLE-JOH] 
 
 by their father. Louisa continued to inhabit the cot- 
 tage in which John had been brought up. Industry, 
 order, cleanliness, and peace always reigned within it ; 
 and for many a year the poor as they passed the village 
 could always find shelter and bread beneath the roof 
 of good old Margaret's cottage. 
 
 THE END.