Part 1

Chapter 14,250 wordsPublic domain

[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic text is surrounded by _underscores_.]

$1.00 a Year. APRIL, 1886. 10 cts. a No.

THE PANSY

EDITED BY "PANSY" MRS. G. R. ALDEN.

"PANSIES FOR THOUGHTS"

D. LOTHROP & CO.

BOSTON, MASS., U.S.A.

EPPS'S (GRATEFUL--COMFORTING) COCOA.

=CANDY!=

Send $1, $2, $3, or $5 for retail box by Express of the best Candies in America, put up in elegant boxes, and strictly pure. Suitable for presents. Express charges light. Refers to all Chicago. Try it once.

Address C. F. GUNTHER, Confectioner, Chicago.

GOLD MEDAL, PARIS, 1878.

=BAKER'S=

Vanilla Chocolate,

Like all our chocolates, is prepared with the greatest care, and consists of a superior quality of cocoa and sugar, flavored with pure vanilla bean. Served as a drink, or eaten dry as confectionery, it is a delicious article, and is highly recommended by tourists.

=Sold by Grocers everywhere.=

=W. BAKER & CO., Dorchester, Mass.=

GOLD MEDAL, PARIS, 1878.

=BAKER'S=

Breakfast Cocoa.

Warranted =_absolutely pure Cocoa_=, from which the excess of Oil has been removed. It has _three times the strength_ of Cocoa mixed with Starch, Arrowroot or Sugar, and is therefore far more economical, _costing less than one cent a cup_. It is delicious, nourishing, strengthening, easily digested, and admirably adapted for invalids as well as for persons in health.

=Sold by Grocers everywhere.=

=W. BAKER & CO., Dorchester, Mass.=

BABY'S BIRTHDAY.

A Beautiful Imported Birthday Card sent to any baby whose mother will send us the names of two or more other babies, and their parents' addresses. Also a handsome Diamond Dye Sample Card to the mother and much valuable information. =Wells, Richardson & Co., Burlington, Vt.=

=BROWN'S FRENCH DRESSING.=

_The Original. Beware of imitations._

=Paris Medal on every Bottle.=

AWARDED HIGHEST PRIZE AND ONLY MEDAL, PARIS EXPOSITION, 1878.

=SAMPLE COPIES FREE.=

A sample copy of either BABYLAND for Babies; OUR LITTLE MEN AND WOMEN for Youngest Readers; THE PANSY for Boys and girls, will be mailed to any one who will send for it, mentioning this periodical. Address D. Lothrop & Co., Boston.

=HEADQUARTERS= FOR LADIES' FANCY WORK.

SPECIAL OFFERS!

We will send you our 15-c. _Fancy Work Book_ (new 1886 edition), for 3 _two-cent stamps_. A FELT TIDY and _Imported Silk to work it_, for 20 cents. A FRINGED _linen_ TIDY and _Embroidery Cotton to work it_, for 16c., _Florence "Waste" Embroidery Silk_, 25c. per package. _Illustrated Circulars Free._ J. F. INGALLS, Lynn, Mass.

=A GREAT OFFER.=

Recognizing the superior excellence of the _St. Louis Magazine_, we have arranged to furnish it in connection with THE PANSY at the low price of $1.75 a year for both publications, the _Magazine_, under its enlarged and improved condition, being $1.50 a year alone. Those wishing to see a sample copy of the _Magazine_ before subscribing should send 10 cents to _St. Louis Magazine_, 213 North Eighth street, St. Louis, Mo., or send $1.75 _net_ either to THE PANSY or MAGAZINE, and receive both for one year. Sample copy and a beautiful set of gold-colored Picture Cards sent for =Ten Cents=.

=FOR 10 CENTS.=

The _St. Louis Magazine_, edited by Alexander N. de Menil, now in its fifteenth year, is brilliantly illustrated, purely Western in make-up, replete with stories, poems, timely reading and humor. Sample copy and a set of gold-colored picture cards sent for ten cents. Address T. J. GILMORE, 213 North Eighth Street, St. Louis. THE PANSY and _St. Louis Magazine_ sent one year for $1.75.

=YOU CAN DYE= ANYTHING ANY COLOR

=With Diamond Dyes=, for =10 cts.= They never fail. 32 fast colors. They also make inks, color photo's, etc. Send for colored samples and Dye book. Gold, Silver, Copper and Bronze Paints for any use--=only 10 cents a pk'ge=. Druggists sell or we send postpaid.

=WELLS, RICHARDSON & CO., Burlington, Vt.=

=Briggs & Co.'s=

A _warm_ iron passed over the back of these PAPERS TRANSFERS the Pattern to a Fabric. Designs in =Crewels, Embroidery, Braiding, and Initial Letters.=

New book bound in cloth, showing all Briggs & Co.'s latest Patterns, sent on receipt of 25 cents.

Use Briggs & Co.'s Silk Crewels and Filling Silk, specially shaded for these patterns.

104 Franklin St., New York.

Retail by the leading Zephyr Wool Stores.

=LADIES= =DO YOUR OWN STAMPING= with our Artistic Patterns, for embroidery; easily transferred, and can be used fifty times over. Outfit postpaid of 23 Elegant Patterns, with material, etc., =60 cts.= =PATTEN PUB. CO.=, 38 W. 14th St., N.Y.

=WE WANT AN AGENT=

In every town in the U.S. to represent our publications. Liberal commissions. It will pay you. Address for particulars,

=D. LOTHROP & CO., BOSTON=.

=THE NEW ENGLAND TEACHERS' READING UNION.=

The =N. E. T. R. U.= has been established for the benefit of teachers and others who desire to carry on a systematic course of reading.

=ITS PLANS ARE AS FOLLOWS=:

I.--TO ESTABLISH THREE COURSES OF READING, each embracing the best literature in the department named.

Course A--TEACHERS' PROFESSIONAL COURSE.

Course B--TEACHERS' COMPREHENSIVE COURSE.

Course C--YOUNG FOLKS' COURSE.

The reading matter will consist of three books in each half of the courses for adults, and two books and WIDE AWAKE in each half of Young Folks' Course.

(_Clubs may be formed at any time._)

II.--THE ESTABLISHMENT OF READING UNIONS, CIRCLES AND CLUBS, in all parts of New England. Five or more persons in one locality may form a Branch Union by uniting together and electing a President and a Secretary of the Club, adopting such a name as may be agreeable to them. As soon as the Secretary shall notify the General Secretary of the =N. E. T. R. U.= that a branch union or club has been formed, and that the members are prepared to proceed with the work of the courses, books may be ordered at the reduced prices named in the circulars.

CORRESPONDENCE is solicited with all teachers.

A list of the books adopted for the various courses also sent free.

CARRIE ADELAIDE COOKE, Gen. Sec'y, _Lock Drawer 46, P. O. Boston, Mass._

=Literary Notes.=

LAWRENCE SEVERN, an English writer, is bringing out a novel entitled _Heaven's Gate: A Story of the Forest of Dean_, of which the scenes are laid in and about Chepstow Castle and Tintern Abbey. The critics who have been permitted to read this in manuscript are enthusiastic in pronouncing it a story of great strength and exquisite style. D. Lothrop & Co. announce it for March.

MUCH attention is attracted by the series of fine historical drawings by Howard Pyle which are appearing in this year's WIDE AWAKE in company with E. S. Brooks' historical stories. Studies so conscientious of time, costume and portraiture ennoble the illustrator's calling.

THE proper place of the accent in the word "arbutus" has excited much discussion. A rare instance of its proper accentuation in poetry may be found in "The Gift of Spring," a graceful bit of verse by Charles Miner Thompson, which appears in _March_ which D. Lothrop & Co. publish.

=FREE!=

THE HOUSEHOLD RECEIPT BOOK for a 2-cent stamp.

THE HOUSEHOLD GAME BOOK for two 2-cent stamps.

THE HOUSEHOLD PRIMER for a 2-ct stamp.

=Send to D. Lothrop & Co., 32 Franklin St., Boston, for them.=

_Volume 13, Number 22._ Copyright, 1886, by D. LOTHROP & CO. _April 3, 1886._

THE PANSY.

SIX O'CLOCK IN THE EVENING.

THE WORD WAS MADE FLESH AND DWELT AMONG US.

THE TWO DISCIPLES HEARD HIM SPEAK, AND THEY FOLLOWED JESUS.

THIS BEGINNING OF MIRACLES DID JESUS IN CANA OF GALILEE, AND MANIFESTED FORTH HIS GLORY; AND HIS DISCIPLES BELIEVED ON HIM.

YE MUST BE BORN AGAIN.

GRANDMA BURTON'S face was very grave and sweet. "Yes," she said, "I remember that third verse about as well as anything that I ever learned; and it is queer how the second one fits in with it. That finishes the story; and I have had to wait more than sixty years to think of it."

Marion and Ralph exchanged happy smiles.

"Then we two will have the story, Grandma," said Marion, "those are Ralph's and mine. But I don't see how they fit."

"I do, child, they fit perfectly. It was the summer I was eleven years old; we were boarding in the country; I remember everything about that summer, because I had some of the nicest times, and some of the narrowest escapes of my life.

"One day I went a-fishing, all by myself; I wasn't what you might call a venturesome child, so I was trusted in many places where careless children could not have been." Grandma did not even glance Ralph's way while she spoke; so of course she could have meant no hint to him! "I had some sandwiches in my bag left of the lunch we had taken the day before. I forgot to empty the bag; so when I was half-way down the hill from our house I found them in the way. It was a neat little bag, lined with oilcloth; I could carry all sorts of things in it, then turn it inside out, and wash it, and it would come out as good as new. So I meant to fill the bag with little fishes, and here were these sandwiches in the way! Just as I turned the corner by Mr. Willard's place, I heard a low growl, and there stood Bose eying me in a way to make my heart beat fast. I was dreadfully afraid of Bose, and with good reason; he had the name of being a very fierce dog; they kept him chained all day. I saw the chain around his neck, then, but still I was afraid. I was hurrying by, when it occurred to me that here was a good chance for getting rid of my sandwiches; if I could only muster up courage to give them to Bose! I turned back, and going as near to the fence as I could, threw with all my strength, and landed a piece of bread and meat at his feet. He gave a low growl and eyed me so fiercely that all the blood in my body seemed to go to my head; but he smelled around the meat for a minute, then took it in at one mouthful, and I tried again, and again, until my bag was empty. He did not growl at me any more, but I thought he looked crosser than any dog ought to, who had been so kindly treated.

"Presently, however, I forgot all about him; some people would be surprised over what I was thinking; they imagine that little girls never think about sober things. But it was that very verse which was in my mind: 'This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee, and manifested forth his glory; and his disciples believed on him.' Papa had read it at family worship that morning, and he and mamma and brother Mott had talked a little about it, and set me to thinking. It didn't seem at all strange to me that his disciples believed on him; I thought if _I_ could have a miracle worked for me, I would find it easy, after that, to believe anything. I remember exactly how I felt as I sat on the bank with my feet hanging over, and held in my hand a little fish about five inches long; I was sorry for him and meant to throw him back into the water, after I had examined him; I thought he was too little to be caught; as I sat holding him, I thought, 'If this fish should turn into a beautiful little bird, just now, and speak to me, then I would know that God had done it, and I could believe in him, without any trouble. I don't see why he doesn't do such things now; it wouldn't be any stranger than making wine out of water; and if it helped people then, why shouldn't it now?' So I sat holding that poor wriggling fish, and wishing he would turn into a miracle before my eyes; but he didn't, and presently I threw him back with a sigh, and wound up my fish line, and went around to the other side of the lake, still so busy with my thoughts that I could not seem to settle to anything. I don't know to this day, how I came to do the next thing. I suppose I must have gone a great deal nearer the edge than I thought I was, and they said it was wet and slippery there; anyway, I slipped and fell, and trying to regain my balance I stepped on my dress, and fell again, and rolled over into the lake in less time than it takes me to tell it.

"I don't wonder you shiver," said Grandma after a moment's pause, drawing Marion closer to her. "It was a skittish place; the lake was pretty deep in that part, and the banks were high and slippery. It was not a time of day when people were bathing, and there was nobody in sight. I lost all knowledge of what was going on after I sank the second time. When they found me, where do you think I was? Dragged high and dry from the lake, around to where the ocean began, and that great Bose stood beside me keeping guard and looking about him right and left for help! He kept up such a fierce barking that the boatmaster heard him at last, and came to see what was the matter.

"The very first sentence that I fully understood, of all the talk around me, was Mr. Willard saying in a low tone: 'I declare, this seems to me just like a miracle! I never knew Bose to break his chain before; and I did not know he would spring into the water for anybody; in fact, I should have been afraid to send him, for fear he would bite the child.'

"You can't imagine what a thrill it gave me! 'A miracle!' I said to myself; 'then He heard me wishing for one, and promising I would believe him fully, if He would only perform a miracle for me; and He did it! It seemed just like that to me then; and I'm not so sure but it seems so yet. If the dear Lord was a mind to humor your silly Grandma's unbelief and send her a sign to strengthen her, why couldn't he do it? Anyhow, nobody knows to this day, how Bose got loose from his chain. It was found to be not broken, only slipped in some way--and no one knows who told him to bound down to the lake and spring into the water just in time to save me. He wasn't what is commonly called a water dog; and he was very fierce to children generally. Some folks think such things just happen; but I've lived a great many years, and the longer I live the surer I am that there isn't much 'happening' of any kind about our lives. There wasn't any need for me having a miracle, children; the Lord had done enough for me long before, but he is sometimes real patient with silly people. I know I began that very day to try to serve him, and I've always been glad I did."

The listeners were very quiet for some minutes, then Ralph spoke: "I don't see my verse fitting in anywhere, Grandma?"

"But it did," said Grandma, nodding her head. "I was sick all that summer. The shock, they said, was too much for me; I couldn't walk a step for a long time. I used to sit in a big chair out of doors, with Bose by my side; he was the greatest friend I had. No more growls for me; and he wouldn't growl at anybody I told him not to.

"One day Rob Carleton and his sister stopped at the gate to visit with me; they were from the same city where we lived; but I didn't know them much at home. Rob began to tell me how queer he thought it was that that dog should have come after me, when he had always before acted as though he hated children; and something whispered to me to tell him about my little miracle. I didn't quite want to. I was afraid he might laugh at me; but at last I mustered up courage, and told him the whole story. He didn't laugh at all; but he didn't say much of anything, and by and by went away. They left the shore the next day; and I did not see that boy again for five years; and then, don't you think he told me that ever since I told him about my miracle, he couldn't get away from the thought of such things, and at last it led him to decide to belong to Jesus, and he led his little sister May in the same direction! Why, you children have often heard me speak of Doctor Carleton, the missionary in India? He's the very same! And May is a minister's wife in Kansas. Don't you see your verse, Ralph? 'The two disciples heard Him speak, and they followed Jesus.' Rob and May weren't _disciples_ yet, but the dear Lord knew they were going to be; and he let me tell about my little miracle, and used it to help them decide to follow him."

- - - - - - -

One day when Susie was visiting her great-aunt, she found in one of her old books an excellent rule. It was this: "Aim to make courtesies not an article of dress to put off and on, but a part of ourselves--something that is always with us."

BOB'S FIRST PRAYER.

ONE summer they carried May Vinton to a quiet place by the sea. From the windows of her room she could watch the unceasing roll of the waves, she could mark the incoming and outgoing tide; she grew to love the sea and did not seem to miss the coming and going of friends which she enjoyed so much in her own home. But she missed opportunities for helping others. At least she did at first, but she was not long in finding some one who needed her. It was the boy from the fisherman's little cottage whose acquaintance she first made. He came every morning with fish for her breakfast, and May, calling to him as he passed her window with his basket, soon found out that he lived in the little low-roofed building which she could just see quite a long way down the shore; and she found out that there were several children in the family and that the father went out every day in a boat after fish. She gathered that while they were not suffering for food and clothes, they were still quite poor, and that the children had never been to school and were very ignorant of the knowledge gained from books. The boy could tell her all about the fishing business, about the ways of the old ocean, he knew where to look for the prettiest shells and the finest seaweed. He could tell what the winds and the shifting clouds portended as to the weather, but not a letter of the alphabet did he know.

"Would you like to learn to read?" asked May.

The little fellow was not sure, but he did want to hear a story, and so she began that way, interesting the boy in a story. He soon became a regular visitor. Leaning upon the window-sill he would listen to his new friend as she talked, telling him of things outside the little world which he knew. At length she said, "To-morrow will be Sunday; suppose you bring your sister and brother for a little while in the afternoon and we will have a little Sunday-school."

"Sunday-school! What's that?"

"Come and see."

"Can I bring Tommy Britt?"

"You may bring four besides yourself."

And so Miss Vinton began a little Sunday-school down there by the sea with five scholars. You who have so often heard the sweet old story of a Saviour's love cannot imagine what it was to these ignorant children to hear it for the first time. You to whom the words of the prayer which Christ taught us have been familiar from your babyhood, cannot know how strange were the thoughts and words of that prayer, nor what a hold upon their imaginations the idea of asking anything of an unseen being took.

The summer months passed away. Miss Vinton took leave of her little class and went back to her own home. She said sadly, "They are so ignorant! It was so little that I could do for them; and I am afraid they will forget it all."

Did they forget? One November morning the fisherman went out in his boat as usual; later in the day the clouds gathered as for a storm, and the wife and children began to be anxious. As the afternoon hours waned the sky grew darker, and the wind howled about the little cottage. It was already past the hour when the father might have been expected, and poor Mrs. Byrnes soothed the fretful baby and turned her eyes anxiously towards the window which looked seaward. The children peered out into the gathering darkness, but no sail was in sight; indeed it soon became so dark that they could not see far from the house. Little Nell placed a lamp in the window and Bob replenished the fire. Then he slipped away. A bit of the conversation which the younger ones had carried on as they stood gazing out over the waters, had given him an idea.

"Don't you know," said Nell, "how Miss Vinton said 'the sea is His and He made it?'"

"Yes; and you know she told us the pretty story of how the people were afraid and Jesus said to the waves, 'be still.' I liked that story!" said the little brother.

"I wish He would say so to the waves now," returned Nell.

"Maybe He would if he were here," was the reply. "Maybe He would. I wish he was here."

Bob hearing this remembered more of the teachings of the young lady of whom they had all been so fond, and as soon as he could, he slipped away and went up into the loft where the children slept. There in the darkness and chill he knelt down and asked Jesus to make the winds and waves "be still." Repeating this, his first prayer, again and again, he at length arose with a calm in his heart. Going down stairs his mother said: "Seems to me the wind does not blow quite so hard."

Bob smiled and whispered, "I shouldn't wonder if He heard! I didn't know as he would hear _me_, but Miss Vinton said He would."

He piled on more fuel, saying aloud, "Father will be here soon, and we must have it warm and have supper ready. Mother, don't you think we ought to set the table?"

"O yes, I suppose so. But I thought if your father never comes home, we would not want any supper," said the poor woman, in a despairing tone.

"I know; but don't you think the wind has gone down considerably?"

It seemed ages to the waiting group, but it was not more than an hour when the voice of the fisherman was heard, and Bob throwing open the door welcomed the father.

"I tell you," said the dripping man, "I began to think I should never see the shore again! The storm was awful, but about an hour ago, it began to let up a little. The clouds broke away too, and then I saw Nell's light there, and I tell you we just steered for that!"

"About an hour ago," repeated Bob to himself. "That was when I was up there asking Jesus to say 'be still.' I guess he did hear!"

FAYE HUNTINGTON.

AN EASTER STORY.

"THERE comes Prinkie!" and the girls in Miss Winthrop's class made room for the new-comer. This was a rosy-cheeked girl with sparkling black eyes and, what the girls noticed particularly, a new hat. Prinkie Brown, as they called her, reveled in new hats. She had a new one for Thanksgiving, another for Christmas, one when her mother came from New York, and now at Easter she was out in still another! Old Mrs. Brown was wont to say: "Prinkie is chock full of vanity and ought not to be indulged in her love of fine clothes;" but Mr. Brown was a rich man, and seldom refused to gratify any desire or whim of either wife or daughter, and so Prinkie had new hats and dresses to her heart's content. No, I am mistaken.

When did new hats or new dresses ever give any one a contented heart? True, to look into the young girl's face you might think she was very happy; but her happiness was short-lived. A whisper reached her ears.

"Did you ever see such a vain girl?" said Ella Clark to the girl next to her.

"No; Prinkie grows more like a peacock every day. I don't believe she ever thinks of anything beyond new clothes."

"Now you watch her. When Miss Winthrop asks her a question she simpers and looks down at her gloves and smooths her laces as if she thought those things were the most important."

"I suppose she does think _just that_!"