Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
THE LITTLE FAVORITES' LIBRARY.
BOSTON:
HENRY A. YOUNG & CO.
24 CORNHILL.
AND OTHER STORIES.
[BY MADELINE LESLIE]
BOSTON:
HENRY A. YOUNG & CO.
NO. 24 CORNHILL.
CONTENTS.
HOW MY PIGEON HELPED ME TO GET MY LESSON.
THE LONG-TAILED MONKEYS, OR "HELP ONE ANOTHER!"
The Golden Pennies
AND OTHER STORIES.
A LITTLE boy who had plenty of pennies dropped one in the missionary box, laughing as he did so. He had no thought in his heart of Jesus, the heathen, or the missionary. His was a tin penny. It was as light as a scrap of tin.
Another boy put a penny in, and as he did so, looked around with a self-applauding gaze, as if he had done some great thing. His was a brass penny. It was not the gift of a lowly heart, but of a proud spirit.
A third boy gave a penny, saying to himself, "I suppose I must because all others do." That was an iron penny. It was the gift of a cold, hard heart.
As a fourth boy dropped his penny in the box, he shed a tear and in his heart said, "Poor heathens! I'm so sorry they are so poor, so ignorant, and so miserable." That was a silver penny. It was the gift of a heart full of pity.
But there was one scholar who gave his penny with a throbbing heart, saying to himself, "For Thy sake, O loving Jesus, I give this penny, hoping that the poor heathen, whom Thou lovest, will believe in Thee and become Thy disciples." That was a golden penny, because it was the gift of love.
MY aunt Deborah was the owner of old Tom, who was in my opinion, and especially in that of his mistress, a very respectable right-minded cat. But like some human beings who get characters which they do not deserve, Tom was accused of always being where he should not be.
It arose from a circumstance which I am about to describe. One cold evening in winter, Polly, one of the maid-servants, had gone up to a large garret in which the dirty linen bags were kept for the washing-day. She had to look into one of them for a garment which had been put there before being duly mended. Her candle was a dip; it burned dim. She did not much like going up there at all. She drew open the mouth of the bag, when she afterwards declared—that—out there jumped a monster as big as a bull, and rushed head long downstairs.
A loud shriek was heard, and when the rest of the household hurried up as fast as the old butler Barnaby, who going first armed with a poker, would allow them. They found Polly stretched senseless on the ground. Barnaby's candle or his voice called her to her senses.
But all she would do was to cry out, "Oh, the bull! The bull! The bull! Where has he gone?"
As the hall doors were all locked, and as no bull was ever known to have jumped through a key-hole, and the only four-legged criminal found in the house was old Tom, and as cats are known now and then to get into dirty clothes-bags, there could be no doubt that it was he and not a bull who had frightened Polly.
Some time after this, Aunt Deborah had a nice dinner party. There were a number of guests—a fair young bride, and happy bridegroom among them. Aunt Deborah took one end of the table and Uncle Josiah the other. Scarcely were they seated, when the young bride began to look very uncomfortable.
"What is the matter, my dear madam," asked Uncle Josiah, gently.
"Oh, nothing, thank you. I am very well. Only the cat," said the bride.
"Only the cat!" repeated my uncle. "What can you mean?"
"Oh, nothing—nothing," again said the young lady, growing pale and red by turns, and showing that there was something or other which annoyed her excessively.
Of course, the young husband, when he saw his wife's agitation, became alarmed.
He also asked the natural question, "What is the matter, dearest?" and received for an answer, "Nothing, only the cat."
"Have you seen a cat in the room, my dear?" he asked.
"Oh, no, no, but I feel it is here, I know it is here, indeed it is," exclaimed the young lady in a tone of alarm.
This, of course, made the guests look under the table, and the servants hunt behind the curtains and the side-board, and in every other possible place; but no cat could be seen. Some of the guests, I believe, thought the young lady was out of her wits, or at all events, very fanciful.
The husband, however, explained briefly that his young wife, had, from her infancy, a natural repugnance to cats, and that she shuddered even if one came near her. Still, as no cat was to be found, he supposed that she must have been affected by some other cause.
She still insisted that a cat, and nothing but a cat was in the room, and at last she fell, almost fainting into her husband's arms.
Great was the confusion of the guests, when at that instant, Thomas the footman, happening to observe that one of the shutters was not quite closed, opened it, when out leaped Old Tom, and dashed past the bride out of the room.
The bride heaved a deep sigh, and declared herself perfectly well able to return to the table.
Old Tom was however, once, not only where he should not have been, but he rendered a great service to the family.
One night after going to rest, Aunt Deborah was aroused by hearing Old Tom mewing at the door.
"There's Tom as usual where he should not be," said Aunt Deborah to herself; for Tom ought to have been asleep in his basket in the housekeeper's room.
Still Tom went on "Mew, mew, mew," till my aunt, losing patience, got up as rapidly as her rheumatism would let her, and opened the door, intending to order Tom back to his bed.
No sooner did Tom see her, than he bounded towards her, mewing strangely and circling round and round her legs. Thinking that Tom wished to remain, she closed the door, supposing that having gained his object, he would be quiet. Instead of that, he continued to mew louder than ever, and moving round my aunt and then to the door, as if to persuade her to open it. This at last she did, supposing even then that old Tom only wished to be let out again. However, when she stood in the room with the door open, and still did not move, Tom, instead of going away, came back again mewing as before, and circling round her.
At length, it struck the old lady that the cat must have some motive in thus arousing her at that untimely hour, and putting on her thick flannel petticoat and dressing gown, with a shawl over her head, she prepared to follow Tom.
As she got outside the room, she heard a peculiar noise. She stopped to listen. She had no doubt about it, some persons were attempting to force an entrance.
"Burglars," she said to herself.
The very idea of what might happen sent a thrill through her. But she was a courageous old lady, and screwing up her nerves, she hastened to Uncle Josiah's room.
He was quickly aroused, and loading his pistol, he went down to Barnaby's room, followed by my aunt with Tom by her side, now purring with evident satisfaction.
Barnaby, who with due discretion instantly set the alarm bells ringing, aroused Thomas, and what with the screaming of the women up stairs, the shouting of the men down below, and the ringing of the bells all over the house, the burglars were so frightened, that they took to their heels, leaving all the implements of their trade behind them.
Had it not been for the sagacity of Old Tom, they would have very soon been inside the house.
As the geese, whose loud quacks saved the Capital of Rome, have been honored in the pages of history, so does Old Tom deserve to have his acts recorded by a member of the family to whom he rendered so great a service.
HOW MY PIGEON HELPED ME
TO GET MY LESSON.
"I SHALL never know this long lesson," said George Nelson. "I wish there were no such book, then I wouldn't have to get lessons from it."
"What is the matter, George?" asked his grandma, who then entered the room.
"Oh, this lesson!" said George. "I'm sure I can't learn it. Just look! Both of these long columns, and I don't know one word!"
"Well, never mind that; you will soon know every word, if you only keep patiently at it. And then, only think how much more you will know! I wonder if my white pigeon wouldn't help you."
"Your pigeon, grandma! I didn't know you had any pigeons."
"I haven't now; but when I was a little girl, my brother had a pair of beautiful pigeons given him. One was white, the other black. He told me I might call the white one mine. They were both very tame, and would eat corn from our hands. What pleased us most was, that they seemed to know us both; for my brother's pigeon would go and take the corn out of his hand, while mine always came to me. Well, I was going to tell you how mine helped me to get my lesson."
"Did it really help you, grandma?"
"Yes; and it will help you just as it did me."
"I'm sure I wish it would," said George.
His grandma smiled and continued:
"One morning, I was sitting near the window trying to get my spelling lesson. It seemed so hard, that I was sure I could not learn it. I sat there a long time, wishing I knew it, so that I could run out and play. The sun was shining bright, and it looked so pleasant out of doors."
"All at once, I saw my pigeon fly up to its house, and then in a short time, it flew down again to the street. I watched to see what it was doing. It picked up a piece of straw, and flew up as it had done before, and then returned to get another. It did so for a long time."
"It was building its nest; wasn't it, grandma?" asked George.
"Just so; it would fly up with a piece of straw, sometimes with quite long pieces, and when it would get about half way up to the window, the straw would drop down, and then it would go right down after it and pick it up again. I saw it get one piece up three times, and the third time, it reached the window safely."
"Just then, my eyes fell on my book. I thought how much my pigeon had done, while I had been doing nothing; and yet it had only took one straw at a time. My lesson did not seem so long now. I very soon knew the whole of it."
"My lesson looks easier already, grandma. I shall only have to learn one word at a time, and I'll soon know all of them."
George set to work in good earnest, and in a short time he had learned it perfectly.
"Now, George," said his grandma afterwards, "do you think you will remember the pigeon?"
"Oh, I'm sure I shall," said George, laughing. "And when I come to the longest words, I'll do as the pigeon did when the straw fell, I'll go at them again!"
"IT'S very hard to have nothing to eat but porridge, when others have every dainty," muttered Charlie, as he sat with his wooden bowl before him. "It's very hard to have to get up so early on these bitter cold mornings, and work hard all day, when others can enjoy themselves without an hour of labor! It's very hard to have to trudge along through the snow, while others roll about in their coaches!"
"It's a great blessing," said his grandmother, as she sat reading her Bible, "it's a great blessing to have food, when so many are hungry; to have a roof over one's head, when so many are homeless; it's a great blessing to have sight, and hearing, and strength, for daily labor, when so many are blind, deaf, or suffering."
"Why, grandmother, you seem to think that nothing is hard," said the boy, still in the grumbling tone.
"No, Charlie, there is one thing that I think very hard."
"What is that?" cried Charlie, who thought that at last his grandmother had found some cause for complaint.
"Well, Charlie, I think that heart is very hard that is not thankful for so many blessings."
"MOTHER," said a child, ten years of age, "I want to know the secret of your going away alone every night and morning?"
"Why, my child?"
"Because, mother, it must be to see some one you love very much."
"And what leads you to think so?"
"Because I noticed when you come back you appear to be happier than usual."
"Well, suppose I do go to see a friend I love very much, and that, after seeing Him and conversing with Him, I am much happier than before, why should you wish to know anything about it?"
"Because I wish to do as you do, mother, that I may be happy too."
"Well, my child, when I leave you in the morning and evening, it is to commune with my Saviour: I go to ask Him for His grace to make me holy and happy. I ask Him to assist me in all the duties of the day, and especially to keep me from committing any sin against Him; and, above all, I ask Him to have mercy on you, and save you from the misery of those who sin again Him."
"Oh, is that the secret!" said the child. "Then please, mother, may I go with you?"
SOME years ago, a little dark-eyed orphan boy came to my house to stay a few weeks.
There was a little, puny kitten about the house, continually poking its nose into places forbidden, and thereby calling down upon its head the wrath of the housekeeper. Several times, it had been sent whirling through the window or door into the yard.
One day, when it had thus been treated, Willie beheld the scene. He took the kitten up in his arms, stroking its back tenderly, and came into the house.
Pity and indignation mingled in his tremulous tones, when he said, "You must be kind to the little kitten now, for it hasn't got any mother!"
Later in the evening, Willie lay asleep on the carpet, in one hand a knife, and in the other a half-eaten apple. Directly the little kitten came in, and went whining around, until it saw Willie, when, without delay, it ceased its piteous mewing, crawled up close to his bosom, and went to sleep too.
LITTLE Robert was a playful, intelligent lad. He did nothing by halves. If he studied, he did it with all his might, and was sure to be at the head of his class. If he played, it was in right good earnest. Yet he was gentle and affectionate.
He had a famous dog, who shared all his sports, and seemed as happy in them as his master. Lion, for that was his name, would take Robert's dinner-basket in his mouth, and carry it carefully and safely. And he would defend his master from rude boys, as if he were his guardian.
This lad grew up to be a man; but his attachment to Lion never ceased, and he was never known to do a cruel action to a brute creature. He has often been heard to say that he could not trust a boy that was unkind to animals. God made them for our service, but not for cruel sport.
We hope that our readers will strive to cultivate the spirit of kindness to all God's creatures. God sees each kind or unkind action, and He has said, "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy."
THE LONG-TAILED MONKEYS,
OR "HELP ONE ANOTHER!"
A PARTY of the long-tailed monkeys wanted to cross a narrow river over which there was no bridge.
There was a tree on each bank of the river; the ingenious creatures ran to the top of one of these, when one of the largest of them grasped hold of the first one's tail. A third took hold of the second monkey's tail, and so on until they formed a long string hanging down nearly to the surface of the river.
A traveller who was in the distance, then saw them begin to swing backwards and forwards, until the last monkey was able with his claws to catch hold of the tree on the opposite side of the river. This monkey then began to ascend the tree until he gained the same height as his comrade, who was still holding on to the tree on the opposite side of the river.
A signal was given, and the first monkey gently let go his hold, and the whole unbroken chain was quickly hanging on the opposite side of the water. A loud clattering of joy was heard, and in a moment, the monkeys were capering about in all directions.
Rarely should we hear of quarrels between brothers and sisters, provided they would, like the long-tailed monkeys, "help one another."
HENRY had never heard his father pray. A Christian friend, while visiting at the house, was invited to conduct family prayers, and also to ask a blessing at table. Henry wished his father would do so every day.
One evening, only Henry and his little brother and his aged grandmother sat at the table, the rest of the family taking tea with a neighbor.
"Grandma," said Henry, "may I ask a blessing?"
"Yes," she replied, her eyes filling with tears, for she had long been a true servant of God.
"O God, bless our bread and milk. Make us good children. Bless pa, ma, and grandma. Amen," said Henry.
He thought no more about it; but dear grandma told his father when he came home. The father's heart was touched by the example. He resolved to have a prayerless house no longer, and soon after became a Christian. Henry was only seven years old, yet see how his effort to seek God's blessing was rewarded!
A SELFISH little boy was Johnnie May, and no one loved him. If his brothers or sisters wanted to play with any of his toys, he would pull them away rudely and say, "You sha'n't have them. They are mine. You must go and get your own."
One morning Johnnie was sitting at the nursery fire, warming himself, when Mary the nurse came to him and said, "If you please, Master Johnnie, will you take this parcel upstairs to your mamma? A man has just left it at the door, and I do not like to leave Charlie until Jane comes back, as he might get into mischief."
"No, I won't go; you may go yourself. I want to get warm," said Johnnie.
"Then please look after your little brother, till I come back," said Mary.
But Johnnie only thought of his own pleasure, and gave himself no trouble. He sat gazing into the fire, until Charlie's screams made him look round. The little fellow had climbed upon a high chair, near the window, but his foot had slipped, and he fell heavily against a corner of the table. His poor little face was covered with blood, and he was very much hurt. He was ill for a long time after.
Now all this might have been prevented, if Johnnie had been a kind, obliging little boy. We should pray to be like Jesus, who "pleased not himself."
THERE was a little boy in the town of Weser, in Germany, playing one day with his sister, when he was alarmed by the cry of some men who were in pursuit of a mad dog.
The boy, suddenly looking round, saw the dog running towards him. But, instead of making his escape, he calmly took of his coat, and wrapping it round his arm, he boldly faced the dog. And holding out the arm covered with the coat, the animal attacked it, and worried the coat till the men came up and killed the dog.
The men reproachfully asked the boy why he did not run and avoid the dog, which he could so easily have done.
"Yes," said the little hero, "I could have run from the dog; but if I had, he would have attacked my sister. To protect her, I offered him my coat that he might tear at it."
A LITTLE boy came to his mother one rainy afternoon, and said to her, "Mother, may I go down the street with a little girl who goes to our school?"
"It is very wet for you to go out, Charlie," his mother replied. "Is the little girl a favorite of yours?"
"Oh no; she treats me worse than any other scholar in the school."
"Then why do you wish to go with her?"
"You know, mother, Jesus said we must do good to them that despitefully use us. And as this little girl has a heavy parcel to take home, I thought I would carry it for her, and return good for evil."