{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_75953/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_75953","id":"gutenberg_75953","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/75953","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Short Stories","Children's stories, American"],"text":"Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.\n New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the\n public domain.\n\n\n[Illustration: NANNIE.]\n\n\n\n                         A DAY IN THE COUNTRY\n\n                           AND OTHER STORIES\n\n\n                                 FROM\n\n                             \"THE PANSY\"\n\n\n                            [Illustration]\n\n\n                                BOSTON\n                        D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY\n                     FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS\n\n\n\n                             Copyright by\n                       D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY\n                                 1885\n\n\n\n                               CONTENTS.\n\n\n   A DAY IN THE COUNTRY.\n\n   WHY MADGE CHANGED HER MIND.\n\n   NANNIE'S LESSON.\n\n   FOOLISH CHILDREN.\n\n   SOME CURIOUS FISHES.\n\n   TIME ENOUGH.\n\n   A CUP OF COLD WATER.\n\n   ON NANTUCKET WHARF.\n\n   LILY DAY.\n\n   THE GREENLANDER.\n\n   SOME YOUNG HEROES.\n\n   THE SECRET OF IT.\n\n   THE TRUE WAY TO BE HAPPY.\n\n   THE KING OF THE WHITE LILY.\n\n\n\n                        _A DAY IN THE COUNTRY_\n\n                          _AND OTHER STORIES_\n\n\n\n                         A DAY IN THE COUNTRY.\n\nTHEY were on their way to Sabbath-school that pleasant September\nmorning. Maggie and Lottie Barnes, Delia and Sallie Shaw. They lived in\nthe city of Boston.\n\nBecause they lived in a large city, do not go and make a picture in\nyour mind of four little ladies with new fall suits of silk or velvet,\nor soft cashmere, and new hats with nodding plumes or flying ribbons,\nand trim boots, very high, and trim gloves very long, and many buttons\neverywhere, because that will not be at all a true picture.\n\nTheir dresses were all faded and worn. Maggie wore an old black shawl\nof her mother's, that trailed a little on the ground. Delia considered\nherself royally arrayed in a rusty old black velvet sack much too large\nfor her, while Lottie had no protection front the cool autumn air but a\nsoiled and faded blue silk handkerchief spread over her shoulders, her\nhat, in spite of being loaded down with purple ribbon and red roses,\nwent sailing off her head with every gust of wind that came along,\nbecause it had no rubber on it. Then poor Sallie had on low shoes much\ntoo large for her. They would keep getting down at the heel and coming\noff as she clattered along, and she had often to stoop over and adjust\nthem. With these hindrances of hat and shoes of course they could not,\nyou see, go on in a very orderly manner.\n\nThey were discussing something in very loud tones. Nobody had ever told\nthem it was rude to talk loud in the streets.\n\nThey were bemoaning the fact that all the girls they knew except\nthemselves, had been to the country to spend a few days.\n\n\"I wanted to go so much,\" little Sallie said, tugging at her shoe as\nshe spoke; \"I wanted to see some flowers growing. I should think we\nmight have gone as well as the rest,\" said Delia. \"I think it's mean to\nskip us.\"\n\n\"The money give out,\" said Lottie, clutching at her hat to prevent its\nescape.\n\n\"Money is the matter with most everything,\" Maggie said, drawing her\nshawl closer about her with a grown-up air, and a grown-up sigh.\n\nThe money of which the children talked was \"The Fresh Air Fund,\" a sum\nof money that good men and women raised to give poor children who live\nin the great city a chance to go into the country for a few days, and\nbreathe the sweet air, run on the grass, pick flowers, and drink fresh\nmilk, all about which they knew nothing. This Mission School was very\nlarge, but nearly all had been to the country; some for two whole weeks.\n\nBy some means these little girls had been overlooked.\n\nMrs. Eastman, their teacher, had been absent from her class for six\nweeks, and all were glad to see her pleasant face in the teacher's\nchair this morning.\n\n\"Now I suppose you must first tell me what a fine time you had in the\ncountry,\" she said \"but as our class is so large, we shall not be able\nto hear a story from each one. Let all who had a good time in the\ncountry raise their hands.\"\n\nThe hands went up instantly\u2014all except four.\n\nThey sat together, so Mrs. Eastman had no trouble in seeing their hands\nwere not raised, and that they did not wear the bright look of the\nother children.\n\n\"What is the matter here?\" she asked kindly. \"No hands up this end of\nthe class? Maggie, Lottie, how is it? Did you not like the country?\"\n\n\"We never went to no country,\" the little girls responded in a chorus.\n\nAfter Mrs. Eastman had inquired all about it, and heard how much they\nwished to go, and said how sorry she was that it had happened so, she\nwrote down very carefully their names, and just where they lived.\n\nThen she asked them if they had ever told Jesus about it.\n\n\"No, we never did,\" they said.\n\n\"Well, my dear little girls,\" she said, \"don't you know when you have\ntrouble, there is where you must take it? You must tell Jesus to-night\nhow much you want to go to the country, and ask him to send you. You\nknow it would not be a good thing for you to go for a long visit, now\nthat your schools have opened, but if you could go for one day, would\nyou not like it?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, yes!\" they all answered again.\n\n\"Well you ask him, and then wait and see what he will do.\"\n\nIt was almost as good as going to the country to have such loving eyes\nlook into theirs, and say, \"My dear little girls!\" They all promised to\ndo as she wished them to.\n\n\"I don't see how it'll be done,\" Maggie said, on the way home, \"when\nthe money is all gone; but teacher said Jesus could do hard things.\"\n\n\nMonday was a long day, because these little girls were expecting\nsomething to happen. For had not teacher said, \"Ask Jesus, and see what\nhe will do for you?\"\n\nSun enough, great news was waiting them when they got home. Maggie and\nLottie came running over to Mrs. Shaw's all out of breath.\n\n\"Look at that!\" said Maggie, holding out a note written on rose tinted\npaper, in letters almost as plain as print.\n\n\"Look at that!\" said Sallie, holding up the mate to it.\n\n\"Teacher's been to our house,\" said Maggie.\n\n\"And teacher's been to our house!\" Sallie responded triumphantly.\n\nThese notes from \"Teacher\" were invitations for the little girls to\nspend the day with her at her country home on Saturday. They were\nto take the seven o'clock train at the Old Colony station, and ride\nabout fifteen miles, and there Mrs. Eastman would be waiting with her\ncarriage.\n\nThink of that! A carriage waiting for them!\n\n\nThe day came at last. Great had been the preparations all the week;\neach Sunday dress had been made as nice as washing, ironing and mending\ncould make it. And they were all at the-depot by half-past six, in a\nhigh state of excitement.\n\nThe day was perfect. They enjoyed every minute of the ride in the cars.\nThe conductor had orders to leave them at a certain station. No sooner\nhad they stepped from the cars, than they saw the smiling face of their\nteacher. They were soon seated in a handsome carriage and rolling\nover a smooth road. The air was sweet and pure, the birds sang, the\nsquirrels skipped about in the trees, and the golden October sunshine\nmade the world beautiful that morning.\n\n\"So you told Jesus about it, did you?\" Mrs. Eastman asked.\n\n\"Yes'm, we did,\" said little Sallie. \"We told him Sunday night, and he\n'tended to it the first thing Monday morning.\"\n\n[Illustration: MAKING WREATHS FOR THEIR HATS.]\n\n\n\n                      WHY MADGE CHANGED HER MIND.\n\nGRANDMA'S room was the very handsomest one in the house. Madge and\nNellie thought it was the pleasantest at least.\n\nA bay window overlooked the street, where busy people came and went;\ntwo other large windows, that were doors as well, opened on to a\npiazza, and that piazza was a delightfully cool place to sit, on warm\ndays.\n\nGrandma's large chair was out there most of the time in summer. Then\nshe had to take but a few steps and she was in the flower garden. In\nwinter the plants were in the conservatory, of course, and a glass door\nfrom grandma's room opened into that too.\n\nBetween her pretty bedroom and the large room were folding doors. There\nwere soft carpets and lace curtains, pictures, great easy-chairs, and\neverything for use and comfort and prettiness that could be thought of,\nfor everybody in the house thought nothing was too fine and nice for\ngrandma, and that was just as it should be.\n\nIt was a bright September morning, but cool enough for grandma to have\na fire snapping on her brass andirons in the fireplace.\n\nSome people dread to grow old, because they are so foolish as to think\nthat young folks have all the good looks; but that is a great mistake.\nGrandma made just as pretty a picture in her black dress, white cap,\nand soft mull handkerchief folded about her neck, with her red knitting\nwork in her lap, and the fire shining on her silver hair, as Madge and\nNellie did over in the window in blue dresses, though their heads were\nbrown and curly, and their cheeks round, and smooth, and rosy.\n\nThey were busy with pencil and paper, making out a list of little girls\nwho were to be invited to their birthday party.\n\nIt happened that both birthdays came in September, and so they could be\ncelebrated together.\n\n\"Shall we invite Minnie Dale?\" asked Nellie.\n\n\"No; of course not,\" Madge answered with a curl of her pretty lip.\n\n\"Why not?\" said Nellie. \"She's the best girl in school, and she's\npretty too.\"\n\n\"Well, it won't do,\" Madge declared, with the air and tone of a much\nolder young lady than ten. \"She doesn't belong.\"\n\n\"Belong to what? She belongs to our day-school and our Sunday-school.\"\n\n\"Oh, what a little stupid you are,\" laughed Madge. \"She doesn't belong\nto our set, of course. Do you know where she lives? She lives in that\nlittle bit of a brown house way down on Cedar street, just about as big\nas our smoke house.\"\n\n\"Does she?\" said her sister. \"Why, I thought she was as good as any\nof us. She always wears pretty dresses, and she acts\u2014well, sort o'\nstylish.\"\n\n\"You mustn't say sort o',\" said Madge. \"You mean she has pretty\nmanners; that's what they call it. Oh, yes; she's nice enough, but what\ndo you suppose Elsie Melbourne, and Clara Haines, and Lina Vedder would\nsay to meeting a girl here who lives in such a hut as that, no matter\nhow she looks and acts?\"\n\n\"Sure enough!\" Nellie answered. \"It would not do, would it?\"\n\nGrandma arose just then and went to the bureau. She brought out a small\nrosewood box, and sitting down again by the fire, unlocked it. This\ndrew the children's attention. They always liked to get a peep into\ngrandma's treasures. She had so many curious and pretty things, and\ntold such nice stories about them. So they came over to her, and this\nwas just what she wished them to do.\n\n\"Do you want to see my old home?\" Grandma said as she brought out a\ndrawing and handed it to them.\n\n\"Why, grandma, what do you mean?\" they both said at once.\n\n\"Why, this is a log house!\" Madge said.\n\n\"And it's such a little bit of a house!\" said Nellie.\n\n\"Now, grandma, you truly didn't ever live there?\"\n\n\"I truly did!\" grandma answered. \"And a prettier home, or a happier one\nyou never saw.\n\n\"When I was married, I went with your grandfather to live in this\nlittle house. It stood among the trees, and there was a brook not far\naway that went racketing over the stones. We used to take long walks in\nsummer, after tea; in summer evenings following up that little brook.\nSometimes it ran through green meadows, and then it wound and twisted\nitself around the hills and on into the dark, cool woods. There were\nmoss-covered stones in it, and ferns and violets grew on its banks:\nsuch a pretty place as you never saw, my dears!\"\n\n\"But how could you live in such a very little house?\"\n\n\"Oh! Plenty of room,\" said grandma. \"You wouldn't believe it to look\nat it, but in that house we had a parlor, bedroom, dining-room and\nkitchen. When we bought it, it had but one large room with a shed at\nthe back. So we set to work to make a nice place of it.\n\n\"First of all your grandfather made the old shed into the neatest\nlittle kitchen with a corner cupboard. He whitewashed it and set up our\nstove, and I put our new dishes in the cupboard, and it was as pretty\nas a little girl's playhouse. The large room was a bare rough place,\nbut we made it white and pure with lime, and I made a curtain out of\nsome pretty chintz calico, and pat it across one side of the room, and\nthat was my bedroom; you see your grandma invented curtains between\nrooms, which are now so fashionable, long ago. Well, when we had our\ncarpet down, and our pictures up, our books on the shelf, and our round\ntable with a sage-green cloth over it, a bright fire snapping in the\ngreat old fireplace, an old armchair one side of the fire and my sewing\nrocker on the other, I say, there was no neater, prettier place in the\nwhole world.\"\n\n\"But grandma, where were your parlor and dining-room?\"\n\n\"My child, the parlor and dining-room were all in one. The end of the\nroom next the kitchen was the dining-room: when meal time came it was\na dining-room, and when meals were over we just cleared off the table,\nturned down the leaves, set it back against the wall and put a spread\non it, and the room was a parlor again; don't you see?\"\n\n\"Were you just as happy as you are in this handsome house?\" asked\nMadge, casting her eyes over the beautiful room.\n\n\"Some of the happiest years of my life were spent in this dear humble\nhome,\" grandma said as she replaced the picture in the box with a last\nloving look at it.\n\n\"Just think,\" said wise Nellie, looking thoughtfully into the fire, \"if\ngrandma was a little girl now she couldn't come to our party because\nshe lived in a log house.\"\n\n\"There is somebody greater than grandma you would shut out if He were\nhere,\" grandma said; \"the Lord Jesus himself had no fine house. He said\nthe foxes and the birds had houses, but he had none.\"\n\nThey went back to their work of making out a list.\n\n\"Madge,\" Nellie said pretty soon, \"I guess Jesus won't be pleased\nwith such a party as we are getting up. If you don't care, I mean to\nask mamma to let me have my party by myself some day, and I'll invite\nMinnie Dale and that lame girl, and that Jessie Moore in our class that\nwears calico dresses.\"\n\n\"Nellie Bryant,\" said Madge, \"don't you suppose I want to please Jesus\ntoo, instead of Elsie Melbourne, or Clara Vedder, or any of them? I\nnever thought how it would seem to him; we'll ask Minnie Dale and\neverybody else mamma thinks best. If grandma lived in a poor little\nhouse once, who knows but Minnie Dale will live in a grander house than\nany of us some day?\"\n\n\"Yes; and just think,\" Nellie answered, \"if papa should lose his money\nlike Mr. Strong, and we have to go into a little bit of a house,\nwouldn't it seem dreadful to have the girls leave us out when they made\nparties, and we would be the very same girls we always were, too?\"\n\n\n\n                           NANNIE'S LESSON.\n\nLITTLE Nannie Greyson was sitting on her front piazza one bright June\nmorning, when everything around was fresh and bright, but Nannie\nherself was blind to all this beauty by which she was surrounded, for\nshe had just received a new book, and was already deep in its pages.\n\nNannie was a very pretty little girl about nine years old. She had\na fair skin, large blue eyes and golden hair, not long, but falling\nto her neck in short, pretty curls. Any one looking at her that June\nmorning would immediately pronounce her very nice and lovable indeed.\n\nThe front door behind her is standing open, and presently a lady comes\nthrough the wide hall, and stands behind the little girl. She looks\ndown at her without speaking, and the little girl finally becoming\naware of her presence looks up into her face with a smile which makes\nher if anything, more sweet and lovable.\n\n\"O! Mamma,\" she exclaims, \"my book is so nice.\"\n\nAnd drawing a deep sigh of satisfaction she prepares to return to it.\nBut her mamma is speaking, and she stops to listen, although very\nreluctantly, I am sorry to say.\n\n\"Nannie,\" her mamma says, \"I want you to come and amuse Herbie while I\nam busy in the kitchen.\"\n\nHerbie was Nannie's two-year-old brother, and a lively little fellow to\ntake care of.\n\nMinnie threw down her book, and when she looked up, you would scarcely\nhave recognized her as the same sweet little girl who looked so happy a\nfew moments before. An angry frown had settled on the smooth forehead\nover the blue eyes; there was a fretful expression on her lips, and\nshe was entirely transformed from the bright, pretty little girl whose\nmouth had been all smiles, to a peevish child with a pout on her lips\nwhich was not at all becoming.\n\n\"O, mamma, must I leave my book to take care of that tiresome baby? It\nseems to me I never sit down to read but you want me to do something\nfor you.\"\n\nShe knew she must go, though, and she got up slowly, going through the\nhall, up the staircase, and into the nursery at the head of the stairs,\npouting and cross. She knew that her mamma was deeply grieved, and she\nknew also that she never would have called her from her book had it not\nbeen necessary.\n\n[Illustration: HERBIE.]\n\nBut still she pouted, while Herbie tried in his baby fashion to comfort\nher, for he saw something was wrong. She could not resist his baby\ncoaxing very long, and her ill-humor soon vanished, and they had a\nmerry game of romps.\n\nTwo or three hours afterward while playing with a little friend on\nthe back piazza, she tore a bad hole in her dress. Running up-stairs\nto find mamma, she found her after a little search in the nursery\nseated by the window, in her rocking-chair with a book in her hand, a\nvery unusual thing for Nannie's mamma, and Herbie at her feet, busily\nengaged with his toys. Nannie hastened up to her, saying:\n\n\"O, mamma, just see what I have done; won't you please mend it 'quick.'\"\n\nHer mamma, instead of looking up with her bright smile and ready\nconsent, threw down her book impatiently, exclaiming, as she did so:\n\n\"Oh dear, Nannie, must I leave my nice book just to mend that tear? It\nseems to me I never sit down to read, but you want me to do something\nfor you.\"\n\nNannie's eyes filled with tears, for she recognized her own words, and\nknew that mamma meant to rebuke her in this way. She raised her eyes to\nher mamma's face, as if asking for pardon, and as her mamma stretched\nout her arms, she sprang into them, sobbing her confession there.\n\nNannie had learned a lesson, and one that she never forgot.\n\n\n\n                          FOOLISH CHILDREN.\n\nMRS. TOPKNOT is having trouble in her family to-night. Two weeks ago\nshe was very happy when twelve soft, downy darlings gathered under her\nwings.\n\nShe is not so happy now, because some of them have been naughty.\n\nIt was just after dinner, when mamma Topknot was taking a nap, that\nthey took it into their heads.\n\nWhitey began it. She was a proud little thing, all white, with not a\nblack feather about her. She thought she was the prettiest and smartest\nof the whole brood.\n\n\"Our feathers are all out now,\" Whitey said. \"We're growing up. Let's\ntake a little walk by ourselves.\"\n\n\"That's so,\" said Blackey, \"we'll do just that thing. Come on, right\noff, while mother's asleep; we'll get back before ever she wakes.\"\n\n\"Won't it be fun?\" whispered Speckle. \"Come on, all of you, and don't\nmake a bit of noise.\"\n\n\"I'm not going to stir a single step,\" little Dove declared. \"I'm going\nto stay close by my mother.\"\n\nThen every little chick looked up in astonishment, to think that gentle\nlittle Dovie would dare to speak her mind so plainly.\n\n\"She's afraid!\" said Spot. \"She's afraid a big grasshopper will carry\nher off.\"\n\n\"I am afraid to disobey my mother,\" Dovie chirped out sweetly. \"She\nsaid we were never to go anywhere without her till she gave us leave.\"\n\n\"Come on, right off, everybody who wants to go,\" said Blackey, marching\noff, calling out as he looked behind him:\n\n\"I know where there are some big strawberries!\"\n\n\"I know where there's a great black dog,\" piped little Gray. \"I'm not\ngoing.\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" said Brownie.\n\nSo away went the naughty nine chickens, and the three little good ones\nstayed at home.\n\nThey had a splendid time, for Bobby brought his apron full of chickweed\nand threw it on the barn floor. They could get little bits of it, even\nwith their small bills.\n\n[Illustration: MAMMA TOPKNOT AND HER FAMILY.]\n\nWhen mamma Topknot awoke, she looked about for her children.\n\nOnly three to be found! Where could the others be? She looked all about\nand called, but they did not come. Supper time came, and still they had\nnot arrived.\n\n\"Cluck! Cluck! Cluck!\" went mother Topknot about the barnyard, as if\nshe would go wild.\n\nWhere could they be? If she could only squeeze herself through the hole\nunder the fence by which they got out, she would go in search of them.\n\nThe supper was nearly all eaten up by the other old hens before she\nknew what they were about. She managed to save only enough for the\nthree little chicks who had stayed at home.\n\nJust as it began to grow dark, when their mother had given them up, and\nhad settled down with a sad heart to take care of what children she had\nleft, they came.\n\nThey hopped through the fence one after another, till they all stood\nbefore her, a guilty little huddle.\n\nJust a minute before, mamma Topknot had thought she would give all her\nfeathers if she could only see them alive once more, and now just as\nsoon as she had them, she fell to scolding them.\n\nOh, how she scolded! And such a hubbub as there was. Speckle stood off\nby herself and actually talked back. Two or three of the others tried\nto tell how it wasn't their fault, they never would have thought of\nsuch a thing. Then they all talked at once and told how hungry they\nwere and said they never would run away again.\n\nGray and Brownie stuck their heads from under their mother's feathers\nto see how things were going, while little Dove got up on her mother's\nback and tried to help scold.\n\nBlackey scud around behind his mother as soon as he came in and poked\nhis head up under her wing as if he thought he could make her believe\nhe never had been away.\n\nAfter they had all cried and said they were sorry, mother Topknot began\nto pity them, they looked so cold and tired, and so she forgave them\nand cuddled them all under her wings once more.\n\nOf course they had to go to bed without any supper, but that taught\nthem a good lesson. They never did run away again.\n\nThat was not the only reason, though\u2014the going without their supper.\nThey had a fearful time. They told about it next day.\n\nThe great black dog chased them, a cat almost got one of them, and a\nboy threw stones at them.\n\n\n\n                        SOME CURIOUS FISHES.\n\nI DON'T suppose you think there are any fishes that can either walk or\nlive any time out of water. Yet there are.\n\nThe gurnard is one of the most important of the walking fish. M.\nDeslongchamp had an artificial fish-pond on the shores of Normandy, in\nwhich several of these creatures were. When he waded in the pond, he\ncould easily see all their movements.\n\nOn one occasion, when he was watching them in this way, he saw them\nclose their fins against their sides, and walk along the ground by\nmeans of six slender legs, three on each pectoral fin. By these they\ncan walk very fast.\n\nThe square-browed malthe can also walk, and can live out of water.\nSometimes it spends two or three days creeping over the land. The\nreason that all fishes cannot stay out of water is because they are so\nmade that they have to breathe air through water. All fishes are this\nway, but some can carry water in their gills both for breathing and\ndrinking purposes for several days.\n\nThe grouper fish is very queer in that it will swallow such curious\nthings, which you would not think it could possibly digest. One was\ncaught on the coast of Queensland which, when opened, was found to have\nin its stomach two broken bottles, a quart pot, a preserved milk-tin,\nseven crabs, a piece of earthenware encrusted with oyster shells, a\nsheep's head, some mutton and beef bones, and some oyster shells.\n\nThere is a crab in the Keeling Islands, that lives on the land all day,\nreturning to the water only at night to moisten its gills. It also eats\ncocoanuts, opening the shell with its huge claws, and the natives of\nthe islands say that it climbs the trees to get them. This, however, is\nnot known.\n\nThus we see that there are some very curious fishes; yet none of them\nhave mind, and are not to be compared with man. Let us be thankful,\nthen, that God made us human beings, and not fishes.\n\n\n\n                            TIME ENOUGH.\n\nELMER'S new suit had just come home.\n\nIt was brown, with dashes of green in it. It fitted him exactly, and\neverybody knows it makes one feel good-natured when his new clothes fit\nwell. When he tried them on, nobody jerked his pantaloons down, said\nthey were too short, nor twitched his jacket up and said it was too low\nin the neck.\n\nHe laid them carefully over the back of a chair that night before he\nwent to bed, then got out a clean collar and a green necktie, tucked a\nhandkerchief into the side pocket of the jacket, and surveyed them all\nwith a satisfied look.\n\nMorning came, bright and splendid as anybody could wish. The steamboat\nwith flying flags stood at the wharf, and a happy company of boys and\ngirls, dressed in white and pink and red and blue, marched through the\nstreets to the sound of music.\n\nThe procession passed through the great gates and were all comfortably\nsettled on the boat fifteen minutes before it was time to start.\n\nElmer's home was a long walk from the church where the other scholars\nmet, so he went directly to the steamboat landing.\n\nHe had just bought a new set of marbles. They were beauties, and when\nhe met Will Porter, he could not resist the temptation to try his\nnew marbles on the broad, smooth paving-stones just above the gates\nwhere no people were passing at this early hour. The game became so\nfascinating, that the boys played on, even after the procession had\ngone on board.\n\n\"Come on,\" Will said; \"we'll be late.\"\n\n\"Oh, no! We won't be late. The boat will not start this quarter of an\nhour,\" Elmer answered, aiming a great blue marble at a red one.\n\nNow the superintendent and the teachers had warned the school many\ntimes, \"The gates will be closed at seven o'clock. If you are not on\nthe other side of them by that time, you cannot go.\"\n\n\"Be prompt, boys and girls,\" Mr. Willard had said as he dismissed\nthe Sabbath-school. \"Do not come hurrying along at the last minute.\nOur trip next Wednesday is one of our lessons, and it will teach\npunctuality in rather a severe manner if one of you stands sorrowfully\npeeping through that big gate at us, while we glide off down the river.\nIt will certainly spoil your pleasure and ours too if you are too late.\"\n\nNot a boy who heard him thought that talk was meant for him. \"'I' shall\nbe in time,\" they told themselves; \"of course I shall.\"\n\nElmer and Will had each a great fault. Elmer's was procrastination. He\nwas always saying, \"Wait a minute,\" \"There's plenty of time,\" or \"I'll\ndo it by and by.\" Because of this habit, he was never known to be in\ntime anywhere. His father had given him a watch at Christmas to see if\nthat would not help him to improve, but it did not; he went on saying,\n\"Time enough.\" Everybody had to wait for him.\n\nWhen the rest of the family were ready for church, he would rush\nthrough the house like a hurricane, pulling and panting, up-stairs and\ndown, calling out:\n\n\"Oh, dear! Can't somebody help me? Won't Mary black my boots? Do come\nand fix on my collar! Has anybody seen my lesson paper?\"\n\nAnd so the whole house would run here and there, waiting upon one who\nhad dawdled away the whole morning.\n\n[Illustration: THE BOAT STEAMED DOWN THE RIVER.]\n\nWill's fault was different. He had no mind of his own. He was always\nruled by the person he happened to be with, and never could say \"No\" to\nanybody, no matter what his judgment or his conscience told him.\n\nHe was uneasy now, and thought they ought to go that minute, but he\nplayed on, though he did say: \"It's time to go, I know it is; the gates\nwill be shut.\"\n\n\"No, they won't be shut either,\" Elmer said, drawing out his watch;\n\"it's exactly ten minutes before they close. We can finish this game in\nfive, and have plenty of time.\"\n\nWatches do not always do their duty, any more than boys. Elmer's was\nfive minutes slow\u2014it must have caught the disease from him. The game\nwent on. Will was going to win, he thought, and both boys grew excited\nover it; finally they fell into a slight dispute.\n\nAnd\u2014what was that? The steamboat bell! Clang! Ding, dong! Both boys\nscrambled up their marbles and rushed to the gate. It was shut! They\nshouted for the gate-keeper; he was nowhere in sight.\n\nThey cried to the captain, \"Wait! Wait!\"\n\nBut the clanging of the bell was their only answer.\n\nThen the call \"All aboard!\"\n\nThe plank was drawn in, and the boat steamed down the river, the song\nof the children floating back on the breeze.\n\nSure enough! There they were, looking sorrowfully through the gate,\njust as Mr. Willard had said.\n\n\"It was all your fault,\" Will said.\n\nThen he turned and ran away as fast as he could lest Elmer should see\nhim crying.\n\nElmer looked about, astonished to find himself alone and really left\nbehind. He could not believe it possible that the boat would not turn\nabout and take him. Everybody had always waited for him before. But\nthere they were, speeding on their way. It was too much!\n\nHe was angry, and \"so\" disappointed. Left behind! And all for those\nmiserable mean marbles! He took them from his pocket and threw them as\nfar as he could. He would have scolded, but there was nobody there to\nhear. He would have cried, but he thought he was too big. Oh, what a\nfool he had been! Was there ever such a fool before?\n\nHe did not want to go home; he did not want to go anywhere or do\nanything. He sat down on a box and kicked his heels against it. What a\nmean old world it was!\n\nPerhaps his good angel leaned over him just then, for his thoughts took\na sudden turn:\n\n\"It was my fault,\" he said to himself. \"I'm always too late, and\neverybody's poking at me about it. Why can't I turn about and be like\nother folks! I declare I 'will!' I'll begin this very day.\"\n\nHe got down from his box at once and started towards home. In a little\nold-fashioned house which he passed lived auntie Simons, an old lady\nwho was auntie to the whole town. She was out brushing off her front\nsteps.\n\nThe old lady stopped, and leaning on her broom, looked over her\nspectacles a minute to make sure that it was really Elmer.\n\n\"Why, my child!\" she said, as he came nearer. \"What does all this mean?\nI thought you had gone to a picnic.\"\n\n\"I got left,\" Elmer said, his eyes fastened on the tree trunk near him.\n\n\"Now you don't say! Too bad! Well, don't look so downhearted. Come in\nand see me a spell. Come! I'm going to have flapjacks and maple syrup\nfor breakfast, and I know you are half-starved by this time; didn't\nhave time to snatch only a bite, now did you?\"\n\nWhat boy could withstand the attractions of flapjacks and maple syrup?\nBesides, he really was hungry. Excitement had prevented his eating much\nbreakfast, so in he went.\n\nWhile auntie Simons helped him bountifully to smoking hot cakes and\ngolden syrup, he told her all about it\u2014how he came to be left, and how\nhe had resolved to turn over a new leaf.\n\n\"Yes, it does seem foolish,\" the old lady said when they sat on the\nporch after breakfast, \"for you to lose a whole day's pleasure just by\nwaiting a little bit too long, when you might have gone as well as not;\nbut what shall we say of one who puts off coming to Christ until it is\ntoo late? Don't you, dear boy, say 'Time enough' to that. You can't\ntell how little time there may be left. You know when the gate down by\nthe wharf was shut on you, you had a chance to sit down and think it\nall over, and make up your mind that you would be all right the next\ntime, anyhow; but you see when the door is shut at the last\u2014in death\u2014it\nis shut 'forever.' It is open now. Jesus says, 'Come.' Do not put it\noff, Elmer dear.\"\n\n\n\n                         A CUP OF COLD WATER.\n\n\"PLEASE to get my china cup for me, Ann,\" Daisy said, coming in from\nthe \"sweet out-doors,\" as she called it, where she had been trying to\nread her new picture-book.\n\nAnn was shelling peas for dinner, and did not wish to be disturbed.\n\n\"What do you want of your cup?\" she asked crossly.\n\n\"I want to get a drink for an old man.\"\n\n\"Well, take the dipper.\"\n\n\"No, the dipper won't do; I must have my cup, and I'm in a great hurry,\na 'fearful' hurry,\" Daisy said, imitating her brother Tom.\n\n\"I can't be bothered with your notions,\" Ann said, making her fingers\nfly very fast. \"I'm in a hurry too; it's high time these peas were\ncooking; besides, what old man is it? I don't believe your mother would\nlet you give a drink of water out of your cup to every old fellow that\ncame along if she was at home; like enough he's a tramp.\"\n\n\"No, he isn't a tramp; he's a 'siple. He told me so.\"\n\n\"A 'siple!\" Ann said, bursting into a laugh. \"What's that?\"\n\n\"Why, papa read about them in the Bible. They are Jesus' servants, and\nhe wants folks to give 'em a good drink of cold water when they are\nfirsty.\"\n\n[Illustration: DAISY.]\n\n\"Well, I can't help it,\" said Ann, laughing again. \"I can't be jumping\nup from my work all the time to wait on everybody. Take a dipper, if\nyou must give him a drink.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear!\" cried Daisy. \"I told you the dipper wouldn't do. It said a\ncup; and I want my very bufulest one\u2014that one with little birds on it.\nCome! Do get it for me.\"\n\n\"Can't do it,\" Ann said, shelling peas with all her might.\n\nPoor Daisy was hot and tired. She rested her elbows on the doorsill,\nand her chin on her hands, and looked very despairing. Two great tears\ncame into her eyes, and at last she buried her face in her white apron\nand began to sob just as grandpa came along from the garden.\n\n\"Tut! Tut!\" said grandpa. \"What's the matter with my pet?\"\n\nHe sat down on the step, drew Daisy to him, and wiped her warm,\ntear-stained face with his clean linen handkerchief. It took but a few\nseconds to make grandpa understand what the trouble was; then he got up\nand said:\n\n\"Come and show me where it is.\"\n\nThe sun came out again on Daisy's face, and with her hand tightly\nclasped in grandpa's, she pattered along to the dining-room closet\u2014not\ntired a bit now.\n\nGrandpa reached down the beautiful cup, then he got a pitcher and\nfilled it with good cold water, and they two went down the front walk\nas fast as they could go.\n\nWhen old Mr. Burton started out that morning to walk to the next town,\nhe did not know what a very long, hot walk he had undertaken. He was a\nstranger, and was on his way to his son's house. When he left the cars,\nthe stage had gone. He was too poor to hire a carriage to take him\nover, so he had to walk five miles in a burning sun.\n\nAs he jogged along, he grew very thirsty. He wished there was a spring\nby the roadside, but there was none. He came in sight of a large white\nhouse on the hill, and said to himself:\n\n\"I have a great notion to go in there and get a drink of water; but\nthen, they are rich folks. They would take me for a tramp, and maybe\nset the dog on me.\"\n\nAs he came slowly along, looking up at the broad lawn with cool shadows\nof the great trees over it, he spied at the front gate a little girl.\nHer rosy face was hidden away in a white sunbonnet, but her blue eyes\nlooked up smilingly.\n\n\"Be you a 'siple?\" she asked shyly.\n\n[Illustration: GRANDPA.]\n\n\"A what?\" the old man said, looking down.\n\n\"A 'siple. Do you love Jesus?\"\n\n\"Oh, you mean a disciple! Yes, little one, I belong to the Lord Jesus,\"\nMr. Burton said.\n\n\"Do you want a drink of water?\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed, my dear.\"\n\n\"Then I'll bring you one.\"\n\nAnd Daisy's white dress vanished among the bushes while, the tired old\nman sat on the green grass at the edge of the walk and waited.\n\nHe was beginning to think he should see no more of her, when she\nappeared with a pretty china cup full of cold water; then grandpa came\nwith the pitcher full, and the thirsty traveller had all the water he\nneeded.\n\nGrandpa invited him into the house to get a lunch before he went.\nThen Prince was harnessed and brought round, and grandpa said he had\npromised Daisy that he would take her to ride, and they might as well\ndrive toward Woodbury as anywhere. So they all got into the carriage,\nand old Prince trotted off. The road was so smooth, the air so sweet,\nand the talk so pleasant, that before they knew it, they were at\nWoodbury; and there they left Mr. Burton.\n\nHe said he never should forget the little girl who brought him the cup\nof cold water, but that every day of his life he would ask God to bless\nher.\n\nThe verse that Daisy meant can be found in Matthew x:42.\n\n\n\n                          ON NANTUCKET WHARF.\n\nALL was bustle and confusion in Mrs. Maynard's house in Boston, for she\nand her daughter Mattie were going to Nantucket Beach to stay a night,\nthen to the Island Home to spend a week. It was the first time Mattie\nhad been on the cars, for she was only six years old, and she had been\nbut very few times on the steamboat.\n\nAt last they started. They were to go to New Bedford by the cars, and\nthere to take a steamboat for Nantucket.\n\nThey had a very pleasant time at Nantucket, and Mattie arose bright and\nearly on the morning in which she was to take her ride to Island Home.\nThe boat was to start at ten o'clock. There was a great crowd on the\nwharf and Mattie held tight her mother's hand for fear she might get\nlost.\n\n\"Why, there is Mr. Ridgeway!\" Mrs. Maynard said. \"He is an old friend\nof mine and I must speak to him.\"\n\nAnd she dropped Mattie's hand, and pushed through the crowd.\n\nMattie did not like her mother to leave her, but she stood still where\nshe left her, so that she might be sure and find her when she came back.\n\nShe waited there a long time, but no Mrs. Maynard was to be seen.\nMattie was very much frightened, and tried to get back to the place\nwhere her mother left her, but the crowd was so great that she could\nhardly move at all, for a little girl was not noticed at all in it.\n\nAfter wandering about for awhile, a gruff voice called:\n\n\"Passengers for the Island Home all aboard! Boat goes in ten minutes!\nAll aboard! All aboard!\"\n\nEverybody began to push forward, and soon the wharf was nearly empty.\n\nMattie knew her mother had not bought her ticket, and she went up\nto the ticket-office and asked the man if a \"pretty lady in a linen\nduster, with a red feather in her hat, bought a ticket for the Island\nHome?\"\n\n\"Do you think I keep account in a note-book of the color of all the\nfolks' dresses and what kind of feathers they have on their hats?\" he\nasked gruffly.\n\nMettle did not know what to say to this, so she said nothing, but\nwandered off to the farther part of the wharf and climbed up on some\nbags that lay behind a pile of boxes there. On these she knelt down and\nsaid:\n\n\"Dear Jesus, let mamma find me soon, and keep me safely till she comes.\nFor Jesus' sake. Amen.\"\n\nShe repeated this simple prayer many times, and then went out from\nbehind the pile of boxes again. She was very thirsty, and was very glad\nwhen she saw a faucet and a tin cup at the side of the ticket-office.\nShe took a drink and was much refreshed, but was very tired, and she\nthought she would go and rest on the bags behind the boxes. She sat\ndown on these, and was soon fast asleep. She awoke about four o'clock\nin the afternoon, and as she was rubbing her eyes and wondering where\nshe was, she was startled by a voice exclaiming:\n\n\"And what's the loikes of this, shure?\"\n\nShe looked up, and saw a gruff, but kindly-seeming man looking down at\nher. He was evidently a working-man, for he had his dinner-pail in his\nhand, and was leaning on a pick-axe and shovel.\n\nSaid Mattie:\n\n\"I'm Mattie Maynard, and I'm lost. That is, mamma left me on the wharf\nin the crowd, and didn't come back, and I'm awful hungry.\"\n\n\"And shure and me name is not Patrick O' Flannigan if I don't give ye\nsomething to eat. Poor gir-r-l!\"\n\nWhereupon he opened his pail and offered her a generous ham sandwich.\n\n\"Oh, thank you ever so much!\" cried Mattie, as she took a large bite.\n\nTrue, the bread was sour and the butter was strong, but Mattie was so\nhungry that she did not notice the defects in the food. Patrick sat\ndown on the bags and watched her eat with great interest.\n\n\"An' ye can eat now, can't ye? Poor little gir-r-l! But I must be\na-goin', shure!\"\n\nAnd he got up and went off the wharf.\n\nThere were many steamboats coming and going at Nantucket wharf, and\nMattie climbed up on the boxes and watched the crowds as they passed by.\n\nBut at last night came on, and Mattie did not know what to do. She\ncrept in among the bags, and covered herself up, but they smelled bad,\nand she knew she could not sleep on them all night. She thought once\nshe would ask the ticket agent to let her stay in the ticket-office,\nbut he had spoken so crossly to her that morning that she did not like\nto. She was not very sleepy, because of the long nap she had taken in\nthe daytime, and wandered about on the wharf till about eleven o'clock,\nand then she went and sat down on the bags and fell asleep.\n\n[Illustration: THE ISLAND HOME LEAVES THE WHARF.]\n\nWhen she woke up, the morning sun was streaming into her eyes, and from\nthe hurrying to and fro of many feet, she knew that the morning steamer\nhad come in from the Island Home. She got up and watched the crowd, for\nshe thought maybe her mother might have gone to the Island Home, after\nall, and had come back.\n\nSure enough! Just as the crowd had passed, she saw the \"red feather\" on\nher mother's hat and gave a little scream of delight as she saw her go\nover and speak to the ticket agent. She ran eagerly over to her, pulled\nher dress and called:\n\n\"Mamma! Mamma! Here I am!\"\n\nHer mother turned suddenly and caught her in her arms and cried:\n\n\"My darling child!\"\n\nThen the whole story came out. Mrs. Maynard had been detained about\nhalf an hour in getting through the crowd, and when she finally came\nto where she had left Mattie, and she was not there, she was very much\nfrightened, and found Mr. Ridgeway again, and told him about it.\n\nThey followed the crowd into town, and, following them everywhere,\nascertained that she was not among them. They anxiously turned back to\nthe wharf just, as the steamer pulled up, and the crowd began to rush\non board. They hoped that Mattie might also have gone on the steamer,\nand went through it hunting for her. But while they were hunting, the\nboat started, and Mrs. Maynard was obliged to stay at the Island Home\nall night, and was just coming off the steamer when she was discovered\nby Mattie. They took the ten o'clock boat for the Island Home, and\nspent a very happy week there. But as Mattie was going to bed that\nnight, she said:\n\n\"Mamma, I want to tell you something.\"\n\n\"Well, darling?\"\n\n\"I asked God to have you find me, and to keep me safe till you did, and\nI think that is the reason you did.\"\n\n\"Yes, darling, I think so too; and I thank him very much for sparing my\nMattie to me. Let us kneel down and tell him so now.\"\n\n\n\n                               LILY DAY.\n\nIT was surprising, how many people were of the same mind that week.\nThe cause of it was lilies. It seemed as if there must have been a\nconvention of lilies held in Fairview at that time, for they were out\nin full glory.\n\nThe tall tiger lilies blazed and glowed in the sunshine; the day lilies\nopened their white bells, the yellow lilies gleamed like gold, and away\ndown on Silver Lake, lovely pond lilies, cool, and pure, and white,\nwith golden hearts, lay amid broad green leaves.\n\nThe people who first got the idea in their heads that it would be nice\nto put some lilies in the church that week, were very young people. In\nfact, it came into one little head first\u2014Kitty Grey's.\n\nAnd how could she help thinking up all manner of splendid plans, when\nshe lived so near to the beautiful lake that from her window up-stairs\nshe could look across to the other shore and see here and there white\nblossoms on the water. She clapped her hands with joy when she first\ndiscovered them, and ran down-stairs crying:\n\n\"They're out! They're out! Mamma, can't Ray and I go in the boat and\nget some pond lilies right away now?\"\n\nSilver Lake was a shallow little thing\u2014a saucerful of water, papa\nsaid\u2014and Ray, though a little fellow, could manage a boat nicely. Mamma\nreadily gave consent, and it was but a few minutes before Kitty sat in\nthe stern of the boat, drawing her hand through the water, her very\ndearest friend Mabel in the bow, and Ray rowing with all his might to\nthe spot where those wonderful lilies floated white and fair.\n\n\"I know what we'll do,\" Kitty said, as they filled the large basket\nthey had brought with them as full as it could hold. \"We'll trim the\nchurch for to-morrow.\"\n\n\"So we will,\" said Mabel.\n\nAnd Ray said:\n\n\"All right; that will be splendid. I'll get a lot of ferns to put with\nthese.\"\n\nAbout that time, old Mrs. Parks was walking her garden, trimming off\ndead leaves and cutting flowers. She came along to a large bunch of red\nlilies, and clipped them off.\n\n\"We haven't had any flowers in church this long time,\" she said to\nherself. \"I'll just send these over. They are such handsome things,\nit's a pity everybody shouldn't enjoy them.\"\n\nSo she brought them into the house, got down from the top shelf of the\npantry an old blue pitcher, and putting her flowers in it, filled it\nwith water, promising herself to take them to the parsonage between\ndaylight and dark.\n\n\"Cinthy's tasty, and she can fix them up in shape for the church,\" she\nsaid.\n\nCynthia Morrow was the minister's daughter. She herself had a plan for\nmaking the little church beautiful\u2014to smile a welcome to the Sabbath\nmorning.\n\nDown at the end of the garden was a plot of day lilies. They belonged\nto her. She had put them out herself, and watched and watered them,\nand waited for them, and now this week they blossomed out in queenly\nbeauty. She intended to surprise her father next morning. How pleased\nhe would be to find his favorite flower on the pulpit desk, its pure\nwhiteness and its rare sweetness sending up incense with the songs of\npraise.\n\nThe next one who gathered lilies was Miss Alice Lynde. She was a young\nlady from New York, spending the summer with her uncle in Fairview.\n\nMiss Alice took long walks every day over the fields and hills, and so\nher cheeks, which were pale when she came from the city, were getting\nto be the color of wild roses.\n\nThis morning her walk happened to be longer than usual. She went\nfarther out into the country than she had ever been before, lured on by\na glimpse of bright yellow flowers she could see in the distance. They\nturned out to be lilies. Miss Alice was delighted. She filled her arms\nwith them at once, thinking while she chose the finest blossoms what a\nlovely bouquet she would make for the church.\n\nIt would seem as if all the people who had been gathering lilies that\nday had made an appointment to meet at the church after tea that\nevening, but they never had, though they all met.\n\nNobody felt quite at liberty to carry their flowers to the church. It\nmight look as if they had set up to interfere with somebody's else\narrangements. So all made their way to the parsonage at that pleasant\ntime between the day and night when country people run in to see each\nother.\n\nEach one found that Cynthia was already at the church; gone to carry\nover some flowers, her mother said.\n\nWhat was Cynthia's surprise, as she stood on the platform arranging her\nvases, to see Kitty and Ray come in tugging a large basket full of pond\nlilies and ferns.\n\n\"Oh, what beauties! I am so glad you brought them,\" Cynthia was saying\nwhen Mrs. Parks put her head in at the door.\n\n\"I s'pose you've got flowers enough without these,\" she said, holding\nout a great bunch of red lilies.\n\n\"Oh, no, indeed!\" Cynthia said. \"How pretty they will be with the white\nones! I wish we had somebody to help us arrange them.\"\n\nWhile they were all bending over the flowers admiring them, a little\nrustle was heard, and when they looked up, there was Miss Alice gliding\nsoftly down the aisle with a great sheaf of yellow lilies in her arms.\nShe made a pretty picture to the children's eyes, her white dress and\nwhite hat, her smiling face, and the lovely flowers.\n\nTheir admiring \"O\u2014h\u2014\" was not meant for the flowers alone.\n\n\"I should say that all the lilies in the country have agreed to come\nhere and hold a meeting,\" said Mrs. Parks.\n\nMiss Alice pulled off her gloves and went to work. She knew just how\nto arrange flowers. Mrs. Parks went home for some pans, Ray went for\nwater, and Kitty hunted up some vases, while Cynthia sorted the flowers.\n\nHow lovely it was when all was done! There was a bank of pond lilies\nand ferns just under the pulpit. There was a mound of red and white\nlilies on the table, and vases on the desk of pure white and green\nonly. Cynthia said that must be so. And then there was a masterpiece\nof beauty, made by Miss Alice's skilful fingers\u2014a sort of pyramid of\nflowers, all colors mingled, with feathery ferns drooping about the\nwhole.\n\n\nNext morning at church everybody was surprised, because, as a rule,\nthey did not have flowers in church at Fairview, beyond a simple\nhandful in a vase. Nobody, though, was more surprised than the\nself-appointed flower committee themselves were when the minister's\ntext was announced. They could not resist smiling at each other.\n\nYou see Mr. Morrow had been noticing the flowers rather more than usual\nthat week. Even while he was considering what his text should be, his\neye fell on a cluster of tall white lilies. He found himself studying\ntheir graceful shapes, their whiteness and fragrance, and then began\nto wonder at the thought that the same great God who made the worlds,\nmade the tiny flowers, and that he took so much pains, making so many\ndifferent shapes and colors, each with its own rare fragrance, to\nplease us because he loves us.\n\nIt was not strange, then, that Mr. Morrow's text should be, \"Consider\nthe lilies.\"\n\n\n\n                           THE GREENLANDER.\n\nGREENLAND is a very cold country, much colder than it is here. For\nthree months in the year the sun is never seen; and for nearly nine\nmonths the land is covered all over with snow. We have plenty of nice\nfruit in summer, and many good things all the year round; but the poor\nGreenlanders live mostly on seal's flesh, blubber, and oil.\n\nPoor, poor Greenlanders, they live so miserably; and, what is much\nworse, many of them know nothing whatever of Jesus and his love! But\nGod loves them; for He loved the world, and gave \"his only begotten\nSon, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have\neverlasting life,\" so that, if a Greenlander hears of Jesus, he too may\nbe saved.\n\nNow, some good men pitied the poor heathen in Greenland, and thought\nthey would like to go and tell them of Jesus, how he was born in\nBethlehem, how good and kind He was to every one, how He gave sight to\nthe blind, healed the sick, raised the dead, how He died on the Cross\nfor sinners, how He went to the grave and then to Heaven, how He will\ncome again.\n\nWell, they went to Greenland and labored there for eight long, weary\nyears. At last they got tired laboring so long without any apparent\nsuccess, and thought upon returning to their homes. They had suffered a\ngreat deal from cold and hunger, and the people only laughed at them,\nand mocked them. But these dear missionaries had made a great mistake,\nfor instead of telling the people as they meant to do of Jesus and his\ngreat love in dying and rising again from the dead, telling the sweet,\nsweet story of the Cross, they found them so very ignorant that the\nmissionaries thought to begin with proving that God lives, and that He\nmade all things. Now, this was a great mistake, for we are sinners, and\nwe need to know\u2014not that God is the Creator, but that \"God is love,\"\nand that Jesus died.\n\nOne day a party of heathen Greenlanders came to the missionary village.\nThey were led by a cruel and wicked Greenlander named Kajarnak, and\nentered the hut where the missionary was writing. He was finishing his\nfinal correction of the Four Gospels, and was at the moment engaged\non that part of John's Gospel relating to the sufferings and death of\nChrist. Kajarnak was surprised at seeing the missionary writing, and at\nonce asked him what he was doing.\n\n\"Writing.\"\n\n\"Writing!\" said Kajarnak. \"What is writing?\"\n\nThe missionary tried to explain it to him, and then said, \"I will read\nyou what I have been writing.\"\n\nHe read the account of Christ's agony in the garden, and then upon the\nCross, with the story of his being crowned, scourged, and spit upon. As\nhe read, Kajarnak became interested.\n\n\"And why,\" he asked, \"did they treat the man so? What had he done?\"\n\n\"Oh!\" said the missionary. \"This man did nothing amiss, but Kajarnak\ndid. Kajarnak filled the land with wickedness; and Kajarnak deserved to\ngo to hell for it. But this man suffered all this to bear Kajarnak's\npunishment, that Kajarnak might not go to hell.\"\n\nAnd then the missionary went on to tell about God's love, man's sin,\nand Christ's work for sinners, till the big tears were seen to roll\ndown the poor heathen's cheeks, and unable any longer to restrain his\nfeelings, he cried\u2014\n\n\"Oh! Tell it all over again, for I, too, would like to be saved.\"\n\nHe was told it all over again\u2014it was such a sweet story. Kajarnak\nbelieved the good news. His heart was drawn to Christ. He loved him.\nKajarnak was saved.\n\nAre you saved, dear young reader? You have often heard and often read\nof Jesus and of his sufferings. Perhaps, too, you have often wept as\nyou thought of the cruel men scourging Jesus and spitting on his face.\nBut though you cry very much, it won't save you. The blood of Jesus\nputs sin away, and nothing else will do it.\n\nWill you now love Jesus? Poor Kajarnak, from \"Greenland's icy\nmountains,\" with a heart colder than the ice, and darker than the\ndarkest night, yet came to Jesus, believed in God's love, and was saved.\n\nHow I long that all my dear young readers too would seek the same\nSaviour, and love the Jesus that loved Kajarnak, the Greenlander.\n\n\n\n                          SOME YOUNG HEROES.\n\nIN a certain school, a knot of boys had their heads together disputing\nabout something. You could never guess what it was if you tried. It\nwould all have seemed strange to you: the schoolroom, the teacher, and\nthe scholars\u2014their odd dress and odder speech. It was in far-off Asia,\nand the scholars were not orderly as ours. The boys talked when they\npleased, and made so much din that one could scarcely hear themselves\nthink.\n\nMissionaries had come to this city and opened schools and churches to\nteach the people that they must worship God alone, and that Jesus died\nto save them.\n\nWhen the natives found that their boys were beginning to stray into\nProtestant schools, they said, \"We must start schools of our own,\" and\nso they started one. But it was too late; some of the boys had already\nlearned to love Jesus, sing sweet hymns, and read the Bible.\n\nThe teacher in this school was a very bitter enemy of the new religion,\nso he listened sharply that day when he heard a discussion going on\namong the boys. It was not in our language, but it was something like\nthis.\n\nOne boy said it was not right to worship pictures of saints, nor to\nkiss them, and burn candles before them.\n\nAnother one said: \"It 'is' right; it's the only true religion.\"\n\nOthers joined in with the first boy, and said it was wrong, and that we\nmust worship none but God.\n\nThen the dispute grew warmer, and there were cries of \"Heretic!\nHeretic! Mean old heretic! Mean old Protestant!\" and so on.\n\nThe teacher had made up his mind that this thing must be stopped; that\nthe boys must not go any more where they would hear such bad doctrine,\nso he said in a loud, strong voice:\n\n\"Boys, stand up!\"\n\nThey all stood up.\n\n\"Now let all the Protestants step out.\"\n\nHe did not suppose that any one would dare to confess to him that he\nwas a Protestant, but those little Christians must have remembered the\nsolemn words of the Saviour, how he said:\n\n   \"If any men will confess me on the earth I also will confess him before\nmy father which is in heaven.\"\n\nThere was a moment's pause, then seven little fellows stepped out. The\nteacher was amazed.\n\n[Illustration: ONE OF THE SCHOLARS.]\n\n\"What!\" he said. \"Don't you believe in worshiping the pictures of\nsaints?\"\n\n\"No, sir, we don't; mad please, sir,\" said the bravest of them all, \"if\nJesus wanted us to worship pictures of the saints, wouldn't he have\nleft us his own picture to worship?\"\n\nThis was an unanswerable argument, but the tyrant teacher did not let\nthem know how they had cornered him.\n\nHe said, \"Boys, how shall these heretics be punished?\"\n\nAnd the boys decided they must be \"spit upon.\"\n\nSo the whole school formed a procession and marched around those seven,\nspitting upon them as they went.\n\n\"Now sing!\" the teacher said, and all the school except the seven\nstruck up one of their patriotic songs.\n\n\"Sing, I tell you!\" he said to the seven.\n\n\"We will, if you will sing the songs of Jesus,\" was the grand answer of\nthe martyrs.\n\n\"Sing it yourselves!\" said the teacher.\n\nAnd, wonderful to tell, this sweet song came to the ears of the\nastonished teacher:\n\n   \"Must Jesus bear the cross alone,\n    And all the world go free?\n    No, there's a cross for every one,\n    And there's a cross for me.\"\n\n\n\n                          THE SECRET OF IT.\n\nONE October afternoon Frank Stevens was gathering apples in his\nfather's orchard. Great piles of golden pippins and rosy Baldwins lay\nunder the trees, waiting to be sorted and packed in the barrels that\nwere standing near. His brother Kent, many years older than himself,\nwas helping. It so happened that their work lay for a time near the\nmain road where people came and went. Leaning against the fence was Mr.\nMarvin, who had stopped for a little neighborly chat.\n\nDown the hill, trotting leisurely along, came a black pony. On his back\nwas Harry Porter, one of Frank's schoolmates. He, too, drew up by the\nfence, and as he called, \"Halloo, Frank!\" cast a longing eye at the red\napples.\n\nAfter chatting a few minutes, he trotted off again, an apple in his\nhand, and two in each pocket.\n\n\"That's a splendid boy!\" said Mr. Kent Stevens.\n\n\"Yes; there's the making of a fine man in him,\" answered Mr. Marvin;\n\"he's uncommonly bright, I noticed him at the examination last spring;\nclear as a bell he was, working hard examples and talking off the\nexplanation as glibly as the professor himself. I reckon it would have\npuzzled some of us committee to have done it.\"\n\nFrank listened in silence as the talk went on while he sorted the fair\napples from the knurly. He had a gloomy, cross look on his face, as\nthough his thoughts were not pleasant ones, and he did not work in his\nusual brisk way.\n\nWhen Mr. Marvin went away, his thoughts came out.\n\n\"No wonder,\" he said, \"that Harry Porter is always praised up so. He\nhas some chance in the world. His father is rich; he has a new book\nevery time he turns around; his father never goes away but he brings\nhim one; then he goes travelling. He has been out West and been to\nBoston and New York. He has been on the top of Pike's Peak, and he has\nseen Bunker Hill monument and the obelisk. Why shouldn't he know more\nthan any of the rest of us? He has lots of time besides, to study, and\nhave fun, too. Out of school he needn't do anything but trot about on\nthat pony. What's the use of a fellow like me trying to make anything\nof himself?\"\n\nIt was not such a very long time ago that Kent Stevens had been a boy\nhimself, even if he was now a young lawyer in the city. He came every\nsummer to the old home for a play spell, he called it, and then he\nproved that he had not forgotten how to rake hay and pick apples. He\nhad not forgotten, either, how a boy feels, so he was excellent company\nfor Frank. He placed the last apple in a closely packed barrel, then he\nturned and looked curiously at his brother.\n\n\"Why, Frank! What has got into you to-day?\" he said. \"You don't seem\none bit like our bright cheery boy. Do you think you are one of the\nfellows who has no chance? Let us sit down in this sunny spot and rest\nourselves, and count up some of your chances.\u2014A good home, a splendid\nfather and mother\u2014to say nothing of a very wise brother\u2014a few good\nbooks, a weekly newspaper, a church and Sabbath-school, an excellent,\nday-school, good eyes and ears and stomach, a pair of legs that can run\nlike a squirrel, two strong arms, and a very good mind, and here you\ntalk of not having 'chances!'\n\n\"How do yours look when you cast your eye at little Tim Morey with a\ndrunken father and a shanty for a home, or at Johnny Wilson, who is\nalmost blind, or poor Will Smith who must go for the rest of his life\non crutches and suffer much pain? Or compare your lot with the boys who\nwork in the factory, who must go to their work at seven in the morning\nand stay until seven in the evening, day after day, year after year.\nWhat about their chances? Don't you know, dear boy, that as a rule, it\nis not boys with rich fathers who turn out to be the greatest men?\n\n\"Look at me,\" he said, straightening himself up and marching about with\nmock pompousness. \"Haven't I put the sweat of my brow and my muscle\ninto this old farm? Didn't I get out of my bed at cock-crowing and go\nafter the cows in wet grass up to my knees?\n\n\"Haven't I milked and ploughed and planted corn and hoed it and husked\nit? And yet, I got through and had no more hard work than was good for\nme, I believe now, though I used to grumble sometimes just as you are\ndoing now.\n\n\"I tell you, my boy, it is not in having this or that, or going here\nand there, that makes a success, but it is improving, to the very\nutmost, the advantages one has, though they be not the best.\n\n\"There is another secret too. One must be in dead earnest; must have an\naim and stick to it in spite of anything, and the greatest secret of\nall is, that aim must not be alone to be a rich man or a learned man,\nbut it must be this\u2014'to make the very most of one's self for Christ's\nsake.' And you can't begin too young; the younger the better.\n\n\"I heard something about two men the other day, that is just in point\nhere\u2014but perhaps you are tired of my preaching and want to go in.\"\n\n\"Oh no, tell it,\" said Frank. \"You know I would rather have you preach\nto me than anybody else.\"\n\n\"Well, a good many years ago two boys lived in the same town and went\nto the same school. They both had pretty good advantages and were\nnaturally bright and clear-headed. All the difference between them\nwas, that from the time they were very little fellows, John was always\nlaying plans to have a 'good time.'\n\n\"Will loved fun as well as he did, but in both fun and work, his chief\naim was to be right and true.\n\n\"As they grew up to be young men, Will held fast to the choice he had\nmade when a little boy.\n\n\"The Lord Jesus Christ was his master.\n\n\"John had an entirely different master; he shirked his lessons, and\nwasted his time and money in what he called 'fun.'\n\n\"When school days were over, one of them had a fine start in his\neducation, but poor John was almost a dunce, it was surprising how\nlittle he knew thoroughly.\n\n\"When Will went into business, he made a resolution in the very\nbeginning to give a certain part of his money to the Lord's work,\nwhether he made much or little. He was prospered, and he grew to be\na rich, strong man, foremost in every good work; everybody loved and\nhonored him. He was a grand temperance worker, and he gave great sums\nto the poor and helped educate many young men for the ministry. The\nmore he gave away the richer he grew, but he kept giving, and for some\ntime before his death it is said that he gave away a thousand dollars a\nday!\n\n\"Will was William E. Dodge who died a few weeks ago in the city. You\nremember the papers were filled with accounts of him. Nobody could say\na word against him, and the whole city was in mourning.\n\n\"It is strange that as the boys came into the world about the same\ntime, they left it within a few days of each other. But oh! so\ndifferently. There were no weeping friends at John's funeral. Nobody\nsaid over his coffin, 'Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord.' Not\none cried, 'How shall his place be filled.'\n\n\"John had become a miserable sot. Nearly all his old friends had\nlost sight of him. He lived without God, and so he died without\nhim, miserable and alone, and he was carried to his grave from the\nalmshouse\u2014just a rough pine box in a cart\u2014and that was the last of\nJohn, for this life.\n\n\"Don't you see, Frank, that under God's blessing, every boy has it in\nhis own power to choose whether his life shall be lived and ended like\nJohn's or like William E. Dodge's?\"\n\n\"It was a good sermon, Kent,\" Frank said soberly, as they walked up to\nthe house. \"It helps me; I'll not forget.\"\n\n\n\n                       THE TRUE WAY TO BE HAPPY.\n\nHOW often Grace and Nellie had heard these words.\n\n\"I'm sick to death of them,\" said Nellie. \"I am going to try to have\nthe most fun I can to-morrow, and I'll risk but what I'll be happy\nenough.\"\n\n\"And I am going to try grandma's way of having fun to-morrow. Just for\na change, I am going to do everything 'exactly right.' She seems so\nsure that that way is the best. Do you suppose there are any good plays\nor jolly times for little girls who always do every thing 'perfectly\nright?'\"\n\n\"Why, no, Gracie! You know that if you are going to be very good\nto-morrow, you ought to sew on papa's handkerchief, so as to finish it\nfor his birthday present. I can't finish mine, for I've planned to go\nsailing on Tom's raft on the duck pond. I shall take all my dolls, land\non the little island, and pull of my shoes and stockings, and play I\nam Robinson Crusoe, and the ducks will be the savages, and when they\ncome swimming towards me, I shall hide in the bushes, or else jump on\nthe raft and push out to sea. You had better come too, and be my man\nFriday.\"\n\n\"But, Nellie, you know mamma said for us not to play on the duck pond,\nfor we always wet our feet.\"\n\n\"Yes; but I shall wear rubbers this time, and it was last week she said\nthat; she did not say we should not play there to-morrow.\"\n\n\"Well! You must play there alone, for I am going to try grandma's way\nof being happy for one whole day, and if I don't like it, next day I\nwill play on the duck pond.\"\n\nThese two little girls were twin sisters, eight years old. They were\npretty, bright, and full of fun, and now they were going to have a\nweek's vacation; a whole week without study, and they had planned plays\nenough to last most little girls three weeks.\n\nBut last night grandma had told them a long and interesting story about\na boy who always did just as he pleased in every thing. He was selfish\nand disobedient, but he was never happy. At last he was so unhappy and\nmiserable, that he made up his mind to give up his naughty ways and to\nbe a good boy, and behold, everything was changed.\n\n\"So you see, my dears, as I have often told you, in order to be happy,\nyou must be good.\"\n\n[Illustration: NELLIE LEFT AT HOME.]\n\n\"I am sick of that sort of stories,\" said Nellie.\n\n\"I am going to try for one day to see if I can be happy by being good,\"\nsaid Gracie thoughtfully.\n\n\nThe next morning dawned bright and warm.\n\n\"Such a lovely day for my play,\" said Nellie, as she tucked a big piece\nof cake in her pocket, and with her arms full of dollies, went dancing\noff across the fields to the pond.\n\n\"That child can't be going to the pond, after all I said the other\nday,\" said mamma, glancing anxiously after Nellie.\n\n\"Oh no!\" said grandma. \"She is probably going to play in the grove by\nthe side of it.\"\n\n\"And so my little Grace is going to finish her present for papa's\nbirthday,\" said mamma with a pleased look at the little girl, who was\nstitching away in the window.\n\n\"I feel a little bit happy now,\" thought Gracie, as she saw her\nmother's smiling face. But it was a long hour, and the little fingers\nfelt very lame before the handkerchief was done, but at last the last\nstitch was taken, and it was carefully folded and a card marked, \"Papa\nfrom Gracie,\" pinned on it, all ready to put by his plate to-morrow\nmorning at breakfast.\n\n\"Children, do you want to go with me to spend the day at aunt Mary's?\"\ncalls papa, from the doorway. \"Just put on your hats; the horse is\nharnessed, and I am waiting. Where is Nellie?\"\n\nAt that moment Nellie came in at the door, wet and dirty, with the\nblood dropping from a cut on her forehead, and crying bitterly.\n\n\"Oh, my poor little girl, where have you been?\" said mamma, as she\nwiped the blood from her face.\n\n\"I was Robinson Crusoe,\" sobbed Nellie, \"and the cake was my\nprovisions, and when the savages saw my cake they came swimming and\nflying all on to my raft; then I tried to push them off, and I tumbled\nright into the water and mud, and they got my cake; and my dollies are\ndrowned.\"\n\n\"So you went to the duck pond to play; you knew better than that,\" said\nmamma sternly.\n\n\"If she has disobeyed you, she must stay at home,\" said papa. \"Come,\nGracie!\"\n\nIn a moment they were driving along the beautiful shady road that led\nto aunt Mary's. At first, Gracie felt too sorry for Nellie to be very\nhappy. But her father, noticing her sad face, told her that if Nellie\nwas a good girl, he would take her next week, and then he told so many\nfunny stories about himself when he was a little boy, that it was not\nlong before she was laughing merrily.\n\nWhat a welcome they had at aunt Mary's.\n\n\"We knew you were coming to-day,\" said Katie, who was Gracie's cousin,\n\"and we are freezing ice-cream down cellar.\"\n\nThen they took their dolls and played happily together all day long.\nWhen Gracie was riding home she told her father that she had never had\nsuch a happy day before in her life.\n\n\"Oh, such a lovely time as I have had!\" she exclaimed, as she bounded\ninto the house.\n\nGrandma was rocking Nellie in her arms, and was just finishing her\nevening story.\n\n\"And so you see, my dear, that just as soon as Jacob made up his mind\nto be a good boy, all his troubles ended. Everybody loved him, and he\nwas very happy and good.\"\n\n\"I like your kind of stories to-night, grandma,\" said Nellie softly, in\nthe old lady's ear, \"and I am going to be good to be happy all the rest\nof the week.\"\n\n\"Say all the rest of your life, my dear,\" whispered back grandma.\n\n\n\n                      THE KING OF THE WHITE LILY.\n\nYOU'VE never seen a palace? Why, my dears, you have seen a great many.\nSit round me here, and I will tell you about one, the ruins of which\nyou saw this morning. In some respects it was quite remarkable; not\nmuch like the one Queen Victoria lives in.\n\nThis palace had six walls, and only one room. There were three inner\nwalls, and three outer ones, and wherever two inner walls met, an outer\nwall covered the place. The people who dwelt in the palace called the\nwalls the \"Perianth.\" Each of the inner walls were called a \"petal,\"\nand each of the outer ones a \"sepal.\" They were covered outside and\ninside with snowy white silk, filled with the most delicious perfume.\nThere were no windows, for each wall tapered to a point at, the upper\nend, and drooped over the outside of the palace, leaving it, open to\nthe light and the pure air.\n\nA house of so delicate a fabric could not rest on the ground without\nbeing soiled by the dust and dirt of the earth, so it was held far\naloft on a slender, green column. It did not stand upright like Queen\nVictoria's palace, but it leaned over toward the ground, so that when\nthe rain came down, none should remain in the palace and drown the\npeople. They would have fallen out, too, had they not been made as fast\nto the floor as were the walls of the palace.\n\nThat seems dreadful to you little people who take such delight in\nrunning about on your little feet. But they were very well contented to\nremain where they were and only look out upon the world, for they would\nhave died had they left their beautiful home.\n\nThe throne covered nearly all the floor of the palace; and the king\nstood on the centre of it. His head reached far above the walls, for he\nwas very tall, and very straight and slender. He wore a robe of pale\ngreen, and on his head was an emerald insignia, more like a helmet than\na crown. It was divided into three parts. One part drooped over and\nrested against the back of his head, one part against the right side,\nand one against the left.\n\nThere stood around the throne six tall men dressed in white, bearing\nsalvers of gold-dust on their heads. They called the salvers \"anthers,\"\nand the gold-dust \"pollen,\" but it was not like the gold-dust you saw\nat the jeweler's.\n\nI want you to notice how the number three figured in nearly everything.\nIt was a sacred number with them. There were three inner walls, and\nthree outer ones. Six (two threes) tall men, and the king's crown was\ndivided into three parts.\n\nA strange thing about the tall men was that one could not be\ndistinguished from another, so near alike were they, and they were each\nnamed \"Stamen.\" Although they were very tall, they were not so tall as\ntheir king. They were very faithful servants, looking always up to him\nto know his commands.\n\nWhen the wind blew a little, they bowed down before King Pistil, and\nthe salvers swung back and forth, causing tiny clouds of gold-dust to\nrise and fall upon him. Then he was glad, and bowed to them, that they\nmight see that he was pleased with them. For he only required them to\nsprinkle a little gold-dust upon him, then he made it into pieces of\nmoney and packed them away into three large boxes under his throne.\n\nBut sometimes this frail palace was at the mercy of the great winds. It\nswayed to and fro before them, tossing the tall men about so they could\nnot prevent some of the gold-dust falling on the walls.\n\nThen King Pistil trembled with grief at seeing the gold-dust being\nwasted, and the tall men leaned toward him trying to comfort him.\n\nThen the rain came, and fell into the palace, and washed it clean, and\nbathed the king and his servants; and when the sun shone again, they\nsparkled all over with diamonds.\n\nBut some strange people passing by stopped to admire them, and to\ninhale their sweet fragrance; and one of the palaces with all its\ninmates was carried away by them. Then there was mourning, for they\nknew it was certain death to any of them if their palace was taken from\nthe column on which it rested.\n\nKing Pistil's money increased until the boxes could hold no more; and\nthe throne began to creak as though it would fall apart. The walls of\nthe palace were falling away too. The tall men looked old and feeble;\nand the king felt himself growing weak and infirm, and he knew that\nhe soon must die. So he unlocked his money boxes, that after he was\ngone, they might open, and the money be scattered far and near, and\nother palaces spring up, and other kings live, as he had lived, giving\npleasure to all who came near.\n\nVery soon after, the king and his servants died, the boxes burst open\nshowing them well filled with money. Some of it fell on the ground\nunder the palace, that another might spring up there in memory of King\nPistil; and some of it was carried a long distance by the wind before\nit was dropped on the ground.\n\nNow, my dears, let us go into the garden, and look at the white lilies,\nand see if my story of their king and his palace is correct. Tell\nme, if you can, how his money differed from ours. Why it had to be\nscattered on the ground, and what it was called by King Pistil.","title":"A day in the country, and other stories","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":14041}