Part 3

HOW would Willie like to go To the land of Thus-and-So? Everything is proper there: All the children comb their hair Smoother than the fur of cats, Or the nap of high silk hats: Every face is clean and white As a lily washed in light; Never vaguest soil or speck Found on forehead, throat or neck; Every little crimpled ear, In and out, as pure and clear As the cherry blossom's blow In the land of Thus-and-So.

"Little boys that never fall Down the stairs or cry at all, Doing nothing to repent, Watchful and obedient; Never hungry, nor in haste. Tidy shoestrings always laced; Never button rudely torn From its fellows all unworn; Knickerbockers always new, Ribbon tie, and collar, too; Little watches, worn like men, Only always half-past ten: Just precisely right, you know, For the land of Thus-and-So!

"And the little babies there Give no one the slightest care; Nurse has not a thing to do But be happy and say 'Boo!' While mamma just nods, and knows Nothing but to doze and doze; Never litter round the grate; Never lunch or dinner late; Never any household din Peals without or rings within, Baby coos nor laughing calls, On the stairs, or through the halls: Just great Hushes to and fro Pace the land of Thus-and-So!

"O the land of Thus-and-So! Isn't it delightful, though?" "Yes," lisped Willie, answering me Somewhat slow and doubtfully: "Must be awful nice, but I Rather wait till by and by 'Fore I go there; may be when I be dead I'll go there then: But"--the troubled little face Closer pressed in my embrace: "Le's don't never ever go To the land of Thus-and-So!" J. W. RILEY.

AT THE CLOCK TINKER'S.

AS we were clearing out the attic last spring we came across an old clock; one of those old-fashioned high clocks that had been hidden away in that dark corner of the attic many years. Not that we didn't know of its existence; every annual housecleaning it had been remarked upon; but last spring Tom said, "See here, Nell; don't you know these old clocks are all the rage?"

"Yes, I know, but that old thing won't go."

"How do you know that?"

"I don't, only I should suppose if it hadn't been past its usefulness, Grandfather Bradley would not have bought a new one in its place."

"O, people do not always use things until they are worn out; did I not hear you tell aunt Mary that our centre-table looked so shabby and old-fashioned that although it was strong and not broken at all you intended to send it to the attic and have a new one? Now I suppose that either aunt Mary or aunt Charlotte thought the same thing about the old clock, and when some 'Yankee peddler' came along with a new-fashioned Connecticut clock, they coaxed grandfather to buy one and sent this old one to this dark corner. Now I am going to investigate." Indeed Tom was soon ready to report. "See here, Nell! I believe that the old thing only needs cleaning and oiling to put it in running order. Let's take it down to Lampson and see what can be done."

By this time I was interested; to have that old clock down in the hall would be to excite the wonder, admiration and envy of the neighborhood. The old man laughed when he saw it.

"I remember that clock. I sold your grandfather the one which took its place. I was a young fellow then, and I remember that your aunts wanted a new clock while the old gentleman thought the old one was good enough; but the girls always had their way with their father. I have wondered about this old clock lately and meant to try to get hold of it and make my fortune out of it;" and the old man laughed heartily; "but you young ones have got the start of me. Yes, it is all right; I can make it run about as well as ever. It will outlast half a dozen modern clocks. Thirty years? Yes, more'n that. It's nigher fifty years since I used to sell clocks, hereabouts. Well, changes have come about that would astonish one to know, since then.

"Tom," said the old man suddenly, after a pause in which his thoughts seemed busy with the past, "when I was a young fellow like you I did not think that at seventy I should be just an old tinker; there's a place over across the river that used to just suit my fancy and it was my ambition to get rich enough to buy it and take a sweet girl I knew in those days over there and live out my time, growing old, respected and looked up to as your grandfather was. Do you know why I failed? My boy, I threw away just thirty years of my life! That is why I failed. Your father can tell you how he has seen me reeling through the streets in those days. There were half a dozen of us fellows and I am the only one left--the only one who has escaped a drunkard's grave. And I have only just escaped. It was after I had squandered my money, broken my wife's heart, made my children outcasts and ruined my health that I was saved. All the rest went down, drinking to the last. I tell you, my boy, never touch it! _Never tamper with temptation!_ Yes, I can fix the old clock and make it run about as well as ever, but you can't mend up an old drunkard and make him tell off the remaining hours of his life with any certainty. Whiskey somehow uses up the inside works and it is a poor sort of a service that a worn-out old rum drinker can render his Master. And Tom, I say, let rum alone! And Nellie, don't have anything to do with a young fellow that will not sign a pledge!"

The old clock adorns our lower hall, is much looked at and admired; but to Tom and me, every stroke as it tells off the hours comes as a warning voice, and we seem to hear the old man saying, "Never tamper with temptation."

F. H.

_Volume 13, Number 20._ Copyright, 1886, by D. LOTHROP & CO. _March 20, 1886._

THE PANSY.

WHERE I WENT, AND WHAT I SAW.

NOT a long journey this time. It was a bright Sabbath afternoon, and I walked own Gilbert avenue, then McMillan avenue, then Kibbe street, until I came to a large new building into which all the world seemed to be trying to crowd. We were late; the sound of many voices in song made us try to hasten, but the crowd was so great that this was not easy to do. On the way, Sabbath though it was, we had passed many crowds of a different sort. Men and women pushing into street cars, talking loud and laughing gayly, on their way to park, or garden, or theatre. On the corners were crowds of boys, talking, spitting, swearing; we passed saloons out of which reeled drunken men; in short, we passed places and people which did not make us think of Sunday at all. But this was different. The singing was very sweet; the room was large, and had many windows; the walls were white, and everything was fresh and new. The floor was carpeted, and seated with chairs, and every chair was filled; so also were the aisles, and the doorways leading into the side rooms. But the great evergreen letters on the space opposite the main door, said--

WELCOME.

And the ushers came forward cordially and motioned us in, saying cheerily, "Always room here for one more." So we elbowed and wedged our way.

What was going on? Why, this was the dedication of Bethany Chapel, the room for which the young men and the young women up on these Hills have been working for years. Yesterday it was in order. On the wall hung a motto at which everybody looked and smiled. It was a very pretty motto:

FAITH IN ACTION.

Those were the words; and looking about the pretty room, one could not help feeling that there must have been a good deal of it in action to have given us such results. But I noticed that people looked beyond the motto at the nail from which it hung. A gold nail! Very large, and entirely covered with gold. That was certainly a new kind of nail. I wondered what it meant; presently the superintendent of the school told us about it. It seems that, a long time before, the teachers had explained to their scholars just what was to be done, and just how much money, and time, and work, it would take, and how much help would be needed. Among others, the primary teacher had explained very carefully to her little bits, and had said: "Now we all want to help; every little girl and every little boy must do something; I am sure you each want a nail in the new building. Don't you?"

Then of course every one of them said "Yes, ma'am," in their eager little voices; and then I suppose some of them went home and forgot all about it. Not so little Faith whose story I am going to tell you. She thought it over, fixing all the powers of her mind on it. She talked it over with her particular friend Robbie, as he worked with the scissors and a sheet of paper trying to cut a pattern for a new kind of cart wheel which he intended to make.

"How should she get a nail to put in the new Sunday-school room? It ought to be a _very_ big nail, Robbie," she explained. "Because, you see, I should want it to help hold something; and I should want it to hold real hard, or else I would be ashamed of it."

Robbie agreed, but was too busy with his wheel to say much. "And where do you s'pose I could get one?" said Faith. "If I only had some money I could buy a great big one; but I haven't a single cent."

It took days of thinking and planning, and hunting, but at last, oh, joy! Faith found the object of her desire; a great big nail! Very rusty and a trifle bent, but so large that it filled her heart with delight. Never was a happier maiden than the one who carried the precious nail to her teacher, all neatly wrapped in paper. Some of the scholars laughed, and said it was not good for anything; but that was because they did not know any better. That blessed superintendent did not laugh. He received the gift with smiles and thanks, and he took it down town and had it straightened, and covered with gold; so that the unsightly rusty thing glowed with beauty, and then it was used to hold the motto; and is to fill its place in Bethany Chapel so long as the building stands. Will anybody say little Faith did not do what she could?

But I want to tell you about the meeting. There were many speeches and much singing. When Doctor Hays began to speak, all the little children straightened themselves and made ready to listen; there was something in his voice which made them think he was worth listening to.

"Children," he began, "how many know what I have in my hand?" Hundreds of voices answered that he had a watch.

"Is there anything about it in the Bible?"

This they did not know; so he told them he wanted them to be sure to remember his text, for it was that one word, "Watch," and they would find it in Mark, thirteenth chapter and last verse. He had quite a time getting them to remember where it was, and they laughed a little at their mistakes; but at last I think every boy and girl there could give it correctly. He had a good deal to say about a watch; how the "little fellow" inside of it worked away all day and all night, and day after day, never stopping to fret because it had so much to do; never resolving that it would begin to-morrow morning and do great things, and being content because of that resolve to do nothing, for awhile; it just worked away, a tick at a time. Then he said there were three things he wanted to tie to their memories by the help of that watch. First, they were to watch for scholars for their Sabbath-school. Every boy and girl there ought to be on the watch for those who went nowhere else, and nab them.

Second, they were to be on the watch against sin. He knew a very little boy who once prayed this prayer: "Dear Lord, make Satan look just like Satan every time he comes after me, so I will know who he is, and fight." That was a good prayer, said Doctor Hays. "You see to it that you know who Satan is, every time, when he comes after you. When he comes whining to you that it isn't a very bad thing to hang around the street corners, and play, or to disobey your mother, or to tell what isn't true, say to him '_You are Satan_: I know you; and I am not going to have anything to do with you.'"

Thirdly, they were to be on the watch for opportunities to do good. There was a very earnest little talk about that, which I have not room for; and besides, I cannot tell it as Doctor Hays said it; I wish I could. But the three heads to his sermon I remember, because of the watch on which he hung them. What made him think of the watch? Because, when the disciples of Jesus were talking with him, one day, he said that word, not only for his disciples, but for you and me: "And what I say unto you, I say unto _all, watch_." And after he was through talking with them, he went to Bethany. So as the new school was named Bethany, the doctor thought the scholars would remember his sermon and text better if he told it in that way.

There were some little boys and girls who recited Bible verses about the House of the Lord, each bringing an evergreen letter which commenced their verse, and when the letters were hung on the wire waiting for them, they spelled

OUR SABBATH-SCHOOL.

I began to copy the verses for you. Then I decided not to do any such thing. I said: I will tell the Pansies about it, and ask them to hunt out verses for themselves which will spell the same; verses that they think would fit their Sabbath-school, or describe what their lives ought to be, or that they like very much, for some reason. Then they will have an acrostic of verses of their own. How many will do it? What is the use of our going to so many places together, if we don't learn some new nice things to do when we get home?

PANSY.

* * * * *

Two little pussy cats wrapped in fur Sit on the wall and they mew and purr Mew! mew! mew!

If you listen you'll hear the black one say "I like the night much better than day." If you listen you'll hear the white reply, "You're quite right, pussy, and so do I." Mew! mew! mew!

So they sit on the wall and mew and purr These two little pussy cats, wrapped in fur. --_St. Nicholas._

"OLD SNOOKS."

THUS the boys built of the snow what they pleased. Sometimes it was "Old Snooks." He was the village drunkard, with a big brandy nose and ragged coat.

When it was done and declared to be a good likeness, each fellow armed himself with snowballs, and, standing a little way off, the command was given to fire, and "Old Snooks" received a merciless pelting, one ball hitting him squarely in the eye, another on the nose, another knocking off an ear, until the image was completely demolished amid shouts of triumph.

Then somebody else was set up for a mark. But usually the most fun was in building a fort and laying siege to it--or rather storming and taking it.

Once the real "Old Snooks" himself came staggering by while the boys were raising the breastworks. He stopped a moment to swear as he usually did, when one of the little "rascals" took deliberate aim and fired, and Snooks' old hat was lifted into the air and landed over the fence into a big snowbank.

Now when the boys saw the rage of the old man, and that he was making for them as fast as his poor legs would let him, away they ran. But all that night and the next day they trembled and kept out of the way, fearing the wrath of Old Snooks.

The wretched man found it easier to catch his hat than scampering boys. So he gave up the chase and urged his way homeward.

But the track was drifted, and his limbs chilled. Soon he fell, but was picked up by a passing neighbor and carried to his miserable home.

Not long after the village bell tolled for his funeral. Those boys were thoroughly sobered when they remembered that their fun had something to do with Old Snooks' death; so they resolved that, whatever they did, they would never find pleasure again over the misery or sin of any one.

One day when their snow fortress was done and besiegers and besieged were about to see which party was master of the situation, several of General Gage's soldiers came along. This was more than one hundred years ago, and the "village" was Boston; the playground Boston Common; Gage, the British general in command. It was a time when almost every American man, woman and child, was "mad" at England because of taxes or the "Stamp Act."

The wise old men said with an ominous shake of the head that trouble was coming. The boys heard it and began to talk war and "play soldier." They were at it now. Those in the fort were "British;" those about to storm it, "Americans."

The passing soldiers heard the words, "Drive the Britishers out;" "shoot them;" "kill the tyrants." Though it was all in play, the words stung them, and coming suddenly upon the boys, they handled them roughly, calling them "young rebels," and demolishing the fort.

This did not make the boys less "rebel." They spread the news of their bad treatment by General Gage's soldiers. Teachers, parents, everybody, was angry.

The next day a procession of boys, headed by one of the "storming party," marched through the Common and halted before General Gage's headquarters. Three of the number were admitted to his presence and asked what it all meant. Nothing frightened by being surrounded by officers, glittering with armor, the young "captain," looking the great general full in the face, recounted the affair about the destroying of their fort by the soldiers.

General Gage patiently heard the statement and promised to reprove his men and see their sport should not be spoiled again in that way.

So the procession departed in triumph. The boys were no more molested.

But the Revolution soon came on, and instead of snowballs and snow forts and the sport of children, there were musket balls and roaring cannon, there were stone forts and "banners rolled in blood."

Seven years of war followed, in which the sword, the bayonet, the bullet, fire and famine, played their awful part, and--"the Britishers" went home to England.

America was free!

How many of those boys who snowballed "Old Snooks" and visited General Gage became Congressmen, I have never heard. Yet I dare say some of them got into the high places of the new nation.

But one of the best "resolutions" ever passed was theirs:

Never to have fun at the expense of such creatures as "Old Snooks."

UNCLE C.

MY BRAINLESS ACQUAINTANCE.

BY PARANETE.

V.--THE SAD FATE OF AN ENGLISHMAN.

"I CONFESS," the pin went on, "that I was not sorry I had been brought along. The beautiful, boundless sea was around me everywhere. It was exhilarating. Most people talked about the refreshing odor, but the sight and sound was enough for me. And the day that we had the tempest, when everyone seemed so frightened, I thought it was delightful to watch the giant waves as they raised and lowered the ship.

"Finally we reached the shore. I did not know where we were. We got in a train, and after a few hours' ride, changed to a carriage, and drove through the streets. The rest of the party seemed greatly interested in the signs over the store doors, but as I had never learned to read, I saw nothing strange about them. We reached a large building, and were ushered into a fine 'suite of rooms.' That was what they called them. As I was the only pin on the cushion, my mistress sent for some more, and soon several were placed with me. From them I learned that we were in Paris, in the country of France, though it was with difficulty that they made me understand, and doubtless we could not have talked together at all, only they had met an English pin, who had taught them some of his language. They were Parisians, as they told me with much haughtiness, but if they were, I did not like them for they were very proud. My dear young friend, if you ever expect to be agreeable company, you must not be proud.

"By some chance, a disconsolate-looking, and acting pin was put on the cushion, after the Parisians had all gone. He told me he was English; and gave me the story of his life, which was a very sad one. He said he did not care what happened to him now, and that the first chance he could get, he should make away with himself. I advised him not to do so, and tried to console him a little. But it was useless. He said that without friends, life was but a burden to him.

"When I told him how I was made into a pin, he seemed much amazed, and said the wire that he had been made of had been softened by heating, and then had been pounded and twisted like a horseshoe into the right shape. He said that that was the way with all his former English friends, and he sighed. Then I was proud (I confess it) of my country; proud that I was an American, and did not have to go through all English pins did! While my creation only lasted ten seconds, his took many minutes.

"Just as we were discussing the different methods by which we were made, my mistress (and his) came into the room, and he hurriedly said good-by.

"'You will never see me again. She will take me, and not you. Mine has been a sad life, and it will have a sad end. I hope that you will be happy. You are the only one that has ever tried to comfort me since all my friends were taken away from me; but you could not. Good-by!' And with that, my mistress took him away.

"She went over to the marble basin with the silver faucets, and turned some water in, while she held the pin, not very securely, I suppose, for he tried with all his strength, and gave a leap into the basin. The water carried him swiftly through the hole, and he was seen no more!

"O how I felt! To see one of my own race go to destruction before my eyes was hard to bear! I would have wept, but you know that is impossible to me, but whenever I think of the sad, sad fate of him with whom I was acquainted, for so short time, my brassy heart aches, as it were, and I feel as if I must go and comfort him, lie he in sewer or sea!"

(Just here the pin seemed much moved, and trembled so violently that I put my hand on the edge of the desk, to keep him from falling off.)

Presently he continued: "Let this be a lesson to you, my dear young friend, never to be discouraged, whatever be your lot in life, or you will meet with a sad fate, like my poor acquaintance, the English pin.

"It must have been for about a week then, that my life was rather dull. I was sorry for this; I longed for something to divert my mind from the sad scene I had witnessed. All I could do was to gaze disconsolately at the shining marble basin in the corner of the room, feeling that it was a sort of tombstone erected over the body of my friend, and make a solemn resolve never to become so discouraged with that which it was my duty to bear, as to desire to put an end to my existence, but always to bear patiently the task set before me. And you, my boy, will find your life much happier, if you make the same resolve.

"One day while my mistress' little girl was sitting reading by the window, a gentleman came in who had made his appearance during the last few days, and whom the children called uncle. He invited her to take a walk. She hastily brushed her hair, and hunting around for a smaller pin, evidently, took me reluctantly, to pin her sash with, and hurried down to meet her uncle, who was waiting at the hotel door; for that I had learned was the name of the building.

"They walked along down many streets, until finally they came to one where stores were. Into one of these the little girl went, and bought a paper of pins; as soon as they reached a quieter street, she took me out, so as to fill my place with a smaller pin, and would have thrown me into the gutter, but her uncle stopped her, saying: