Part 5

A few summers ago I was sitting on a garden seat, beneath a fruit tree, where the works of nature looked very beautiful. Very soon I heard a strange noise among the highest branches of the tree over my head. The sound was very curious, and I began to look for the cause. I shook one of the lower branches within my reach, and very soon I discovered two birds engaged in fighting; and they seemed to gradually descend towards the ground. They came down lower and lower, tumbling over one another, and fighting with each other. They soon reached the lowest branch, and at last came to the ground very near me. It was with some difficulty that I parted them; and when I held one of them in each of my hands, they tried to get away, not because they were afraid of me but because they would resume the conflict. They were two young robins, and I never before thought that the robin had such a bad spirit in its breast. Lest they should get to fighting again, I let one go, and kept the other housed up for several days, so that they would not have much chance of coming together again.

Now, children, these two little robins woke in the morning very cheerful, and appeared very happy as they sat on the branch of the tree, singing their morning songs. But how soon they changed their notes. You would have been sorry to have seen the birds trying to hurt each other.

If children quarrel, or in any degree show an unkind temper, they appear very unlovely and, forget that God, who made them, and gives them many blessings, disapproves of their conduct. Never quarrel, but remember how pleasant it is for children to love each other, and to try to do each other good.

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Every hour is worth at least a good thought, a good wish, a good endeavor.--_Clarendon_.

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THE PLEASANT SAIL.

Down by the sea-coast is the pleasant town of Saco, Where Mr. Aimes has resided for many years. Once a year he had all his little nephews and nieces visit him. It was their holiday, and they would think and talk about the visit for a long time previous to going there. Their uncle took much pleasure in making them happy as possible while they were with him. He owned a pleasure sail boat which he always kept in good order. On this occasion he had it all clean and prepared for the young friends, as he knew they lotted much on having a sail. As his boat was small, he took part of them at a time and went out with them himself, a short distance, and sailed around the island, and returned. In the picture you see them just going out, with their uncle at the helm, while three of the nephews are on the beach enjoying the scene.

But I must tell you children to be very careful when you go on the water to sail. There are some things which it is necessary for you to know, as a great many accidents occur on the water for the want of right management. When you go to sail, be sure and have persons with you who understand all about a boat, and how to manage in the time of a squall. Always keep your seats in the boat, and not be running about in it. Never get to rocking a boat in the water. A great many people have lost their lives by so doing. Sailing on the water may be very pleasant and agreeable to you if you go with those who understand all about the harbor, and are skilled in guiding the boat on the dangerous sea.

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THE SAILOR BOY.

Yarmouth is the principal trade sea-port town in the county of Norfolk. Fishermen reside in the towns and villages around, and among the number was a poor man and his wife; they had an only son, and when ten years old his father died. The poor widow, in the death of her husband, lost the means of support. After some time she said to her boy, "Johnny, I do not see how I shall support you." "Then, mother, I will go to sea," he replied. His mother was loth to part with Johnny, for he was a good son and was very kind to her. But she at last consented on his going to sea.

John began to make preparations. One day he went down to the beach hoping to find a chance among some of the captains to sail. He went to the owner of one and asked if he wanted a boy. "No," he abruptly replied "I have boys enough." He tried a second but without success. John now began to weep. After some time he saw on the quay the captain of a trading vessel to St. Petersburg, and John asked him if "a boy was wanted." "Oh, yes," said the captain, "but I never take a boy or a man without a character." John had a Testament among his things, which he took out and said to the captain, "I suppose this won't do." The captain took it, and on opening the first page, saw written, "_John Read, given as a reward for his good behaviour and diligence in learning, at the Sabbath School_." The captain said, "Yes, my boy, this will do; I would rather have this recommendation than any other," adding, "you may go on board directly." John's heart leaped for joy, as, with his bundle under his arm, he jumped on board the vessel.

The vessel was soon under weigh, and for some time the sky was bright, and the wind was fair. When they reached the Baltic Sea a storm came on, the wind raged furiously, all hands were employed to save the vessel. But the storm increased, and the captain thought all would be lost. While things were in this state the little sailor boy was missing. One of the crew told the captain he was down in the cabin. When sent for he came up with his Testament in his hand and asked the captain if he might read. His request was granted. He then knelt down and rend the sixtieth and sixty-first Psalms. While he was reading the wind began to abate, (the storms in the Baltic abate as suddenly as they come on.) The captain was much moved, and said he believed the boy's reading was heard in Heaven.

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THE BRACELET; OR, HONESTY REWARDED.

At St. Petersburgh, the birth day of any of the royal family is observed as a time of great festivity, by all kinds of diversions. When the vessel in which John Read shipped arrived, he was allowed to go on shore to see the sport on that occasion. In one of the sleighs was a lady, who at the moment of passing him lost a bracelet from her arm, which fell on the snow. John hastened forward to pick it up, at the same time calling after the lady, who was beyond the sound of his voice. He then put the bracelet into his pocket, and when he had seen enough of the sport, went back to the ship.

John told the captain all about it, showing him the prize which he had found.

"Well, Jack," said the captain "you are fortunate enough--these are all diamonds of great value--when we get to the next port I will sell it for you." "But," said John, "It's not mine, it belongs to the lady, and I cannot sell it." The captain replied, "O, you cannot find the lady, and you picked it up. It is your own." But John persisted it was not his. "Nonsense, my boy," said the captain, "it belongs to you." John then replied "But if we have another storm in the Baltic," (see story preceding.) "Ah, me," said the Captain, "I forgot all about that, Jack. I will go on shore with you to-morrow and try to find the owner." They did so; and after much trouble, found it belonged to a nobleman's lady, and as a reward for the boy's honesty, she gave him eighty pounds English money. John's next difficulty was what to do with it. The captain advised him to lay it out in hides, which would be valuable in England. He did so, and on arriving at Hull, they brought one hundred and fifty pounds.

John had not forgotten his mother. The captain gave him leave of absence for a time, and taking a portion of his money with him, he started for his native village. When he arrived there, he made his way to her house with a beating heart. Each object told him it was home, and brought bygone days to his mind. On coming to the house he saw it was closed. He thought she might be dead; and as he slowly opened the gate and walked up the path and looked about, his heart was ready to break. A neighbor seeing him, said, "Ah, John, is that you?" and quickly told him that his mother still lived--but as she had no means of support, she had gone to the poor-house. John went to the place, found his mother, and soon made her comfortable in her own cottage. The sailor boy afterwards became mate of the same vessel in which he first left the quay at Yarmouth.

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NO PAY--NO WORK.

"Little boy, will you help a poor old man up the hill with this load?" said an old man, who was drawing a hand-cart with a bag of corn for the mill.

"I can't," said the boy, "I am in a hurry to be at school."

As the old man sat on the stone, resting himself he thought of his youthful days, and of his friends now in the grave; the tears began to fall, when John Wilson came along, and said,--"shall I help you up the hill with your load sir?" The old man brushed his eyes with his coat sleeve, and replied, "I should be glad to have you." He arose and took the tongue of his cart, while John pushed behind. When they ascended the top of the hill, the old man thanked the lad for his kindness. In consequence of this John was ten minutes too late at school. It was unusual for him to be late, as he was known to be punctual and prompt; but as he said nothing to the teacher about the cause of his being late, he was marked for not being in season.

After school, Hanson, the first boy, said to John, "I suppose you stopped to help old Stevenson up the hill with his corn."

"Yes," replied John, "the old man was tired and I thought I would give him a lift."

"Well, did you get your pay for it?" said Hanson, "for I don't work for nothing."

"Nor do I," said John; "I didn't help him, expecting pay."

"Well, why did you do it? You knew you would be late to school."

"Because I thought I _ought_ to help the poor old man," said John.

"Well," replied Hanson "if you will work for nothing, you may. _No pay, no work_, is my motto."

"To _be kind and obliging_, is mine," said John.

Here, children, is a good example. John did not perform this act of kindness for nothing. He had the approbation of a good conscience--the pleasure of doing good to the old man--and the respect and gratitude of his friends. Even the small act of benevolence is like giving a cup of cold water to the needy, which will not pass unnoticed. Does any body work for nothing when he does good? Think of this, and do likewise.

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THE TREE THAT NEVER FADES.

"Mary," said George, "next summer I will not have a garden. Our pretty tree is dying, and I won't love another tree as long as I live. I will have a bird next summer, and that will stay all winter."

George, don't you remember my beautiful canary bird? It died in the middle of the summer, and we planted bright flowers in the ground where we buried it. My bird did not live as long as the tree."

"Well, I don't see as we can love anything. Dear little brother died before the bird, and I loved him better than any bird, or tree, or flower. Oh! I wish we could have something to love that wouldn't die."

The day passed. During the school hours, George and Mary had almost forgot that their tree was dying; but at evening, as they drew their chairs to the table where their mother was sitting, and began to arrange the seeds they had been gathering, the remembrance of the tree came upon them.

"Mother," said Mary, "you may give these seeds to cousin John; I never want another garden."

"Yes," added George, pushing the papers in which he had carefully folded them towards his mother, "you may give them all away. If I could find some seeds of a tree that would never fade, I should like then to have a garden. I wonder, mother, if there ever was such a garden?"

"Yes, George, I have read of a garden where the trees never die."

"A _real_ garden, mother?"

"Yes, my son. In the middle of the garden, I have been told, there runs a pure river of water, clear as chrystal, and on each side of the river is the _tree of life_,--a tree that never fades. That garden is _heaven_. There you may love and love for ever. There will be no death--no fading there. Let your treasure be in the tree of life, and you will have something to which your young hearts can cling, without fear, and without disappointment. Love the Saviour here, and he will prepare you to dwell in those green pastures, and beside those still waters."

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Every neglected opportunity draws after it an irreparable loss, which will go into eternity with you.---_Doddridge_.

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YOUNG USHER.

You have read of that remarkable man, Mr. Usher, who was Archbishop of Armagh. I will tell you something about his early childhood. He was born in Dublin, in the year 1580, and when a little boy he was fond of reading. He lived with his two aunts who were born blind, and who acquired much knowledge of the Scriptures by hearing others read the Scriptures and other good books. At seven years of age he was sent to school in Dublin; at the end of five years he was superior in study to any of his school fellows, and was thought fully qualified to enter the college at Dublin.

While he was at college he learned to play at cards, and he was so much taken up with this amusement that both his learning and piety were much endangered. He saw the evil tendency of playing cards, and at once relinquished the practice entirely. When he was nine years old, he heard a sermon preached which made a deep impression on his mind. From that time he was accustomed to habits of devotion. He loved to pray, and felt that he could not sleep quietly without first commending himself to the care of his Heavenly father for protection. When he was fourteen years old, he began to think about partaking of the Lord's supper. He thought this act to be a very solemn and important one, and required a thorough preparation. On the afternoon previous to the communion, he would retire to some private place for self examination and prayer. When he was but sixteen years of age, he obtained such a knowledge of chronology as to have commenced the annals of the Old and New Testaments, which were published many years after, and are now a general standard of reference.

When his father died, he being the eldest son, the paternal estate was left to him to manage. But as he feared it would occupy to much of his time and attention, he gave it entirely to his brother and sisters, reserving only enough for his books and college expenses. At the age of twenty he entered the ministry, and seven years after was chosen a professor in the University of Dublin. In 1640, he visited England at the time of the commencement of the rebellion; all his goods were seized by the popish party, except some furniture in his house, and his library at Drogheda, which was afterwards sent to London. He bore his loss with submission, but he never returned to Ireland. He had many trials to endure on account of the troublous times in England, (it being the time of civil wars.) In 1646 he received a kind invitation from the Countess of Peterborough to reside in one of her houses, which proposal he accepted and lived in one of them till his death, in 1665. By the direction of Cromwell he was buried in Westminster Abbey.

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A GOOD ACT FOR ANOTHER.

A man was going from Norwich to New London with a loaded team; on attempting to ascend a hill where an Indian lived he found his team could not draw the load. He went for the Indian to assist him. After he had got up the hill he asked the Indian what was to pay. The Indian told him to do as much for some body else.

Some time afterward the Indian wanted a canoe. He went up Shetucket river, found a tree, and made him one. When he had finished it he could not get it to the river; accordingly he went to a man and offered to pay him if he would go and draw it to the river for him. The man set about it immediately, and after getting it to the river, the Indian offered to pay him. "No," said the man; "don't you recollect, so long ago, helping a man with a team up the hill by the side of your house?" "Yes." "Well, I am the man; take your canoe and go home."

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A BOY REPROVED BY A BIRD.

The sparrows often build their nests under the eaves of houses and barns. A young lad saw one of the sparrows conveying materials for her nest, which she was building under the eaves of a cottage adjoining his father's house. He was told not to disturb it. But birds eggs form a temptation to many boys. At a favorable opportunity the lad climbed up to the roof of the cottage and carried away the nest with the eggs in it. Among the materials of which the nest was composed was a piece of paper with some printed verses on it. The boy pulled it out and found it to be a page of one of Dr. Watts' hymns, which had been picked up in the yard by the poor bird for strengthening her nest. The boy unfolded the paper and read:----

"Why should I deprive my neighbor Of his goods against his will? Hands were made for honest labor, Not to plunder nor to steal."

The lad says, in his after years, "I never forgot the lesson presented to me by that leaf of paper which had been fixed to the nest of the poor sparrow." Let young people remember that when they do wrong they will get reproved, and it may be by the means of a bird.

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THE ECHO.

Little Charles knew nothing about an echo. As he was playing by himself in the field, he cried out, "Ho, hop!" and immediately a voice from the woods near by answered, "ho, hop!" Being surprised at this, he called out, "who be you?" The voice answered, "who be you." Charles thought this very strange, and cried out "you're a stupid fellow," and "stupid fellow," was the reply from the woods.

Charles began to be much displeased, and called several abusive names, and every name he called, came back to him. "I never met with such insolence," said he, "but I'll revenge myself;" and he ran up and down among the trees, trying to find the supposed offender, but he could see no one. Vexed and disappointed, he hastened home and told his mother that a bad boy had hidden in the woods and called him all sorts of names.

His mother smiled and shook her head. "Now you have been angry at yourself, Charles, for you must know that you heard nothing but your own words repeated. As you have seen your own face reflected in the water, so you have now heard your own voice echoed." Had Charles spoke kind words he would have heard kind words in return. It is often true that the behavior we meet with from others, is but an echo of our own. If we speak kind words we shall have kind words in return.

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LIZZY AND HER DOG.

I wish to relate to you a very affecting story about a good girl who died when she was thirteen years old. She was an interesting young girl, and possessed great intellectual powers. She was also very fond of the works of nature, especially of flowers, and would often say, "How good God is to make these beautiful flowers for us to enjoy." Soon it was very evident to her friends that disease was preying on her delicate constitution. She bore all her sickness with calm submission, and when she died she appeared to all who knew her to be prepared for heaven. While she was sick, her parents did every thing to make her comfortable and happy. They had a dog which Lizzy set a great deal by, and with him she used to play in the house and in the garden. When Lizzy was so sick that she could not play with him, he would come and lay himself down at her bed side, and appeared to be very sad on her account. When she died [and] was buried, the dog followed with the parents in the funeral, to the grave-yard where Lizzy was laid away. One day, about five months afterwards, I went with her father to see the grave of Lizzy.

As we went into the grave-yard, we walked slowly along, reading the names of persons buried there, while the dog followed us. We soon missed the dog, supposing he had wandered into some other part of the cemetery. But when we came within a few yards of Lizzy's grave we saw him sitting at its head, leaning against the stone which was erected in memory of the lovely daughter. It was a very affecting scene--the attachment of the dog, as well as the power of his memory. Dogs are faithful creatures, and we can never bear to see them abused. Be kind to them and they will be kind to you.

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JULIA'S SUNSET WALK.

It was a beautiful June day, just at the sun's setting, when Julia Eastworth went to visit the resting place of a dear grandmother. While she was in the grave-yard, meditating on the loss of one of her best earthly friends, she saw a lady dressed in mourning busily engaged in doing something near a rose bush that grew at the foot of a little mound, at a short distance from where she stood. Julia walked along and came near where she was, and laid her hand gently upon the woman and said, "Madam, is this your little mound?"

"Oh, no, my child; it is my dear Elise's grave."

"And is it long since you laid her here ma'am?" said Julia.

"Only a few weeks," was the reply; "there were buds on this rose bush when I brought it here."

"And was it her's?" asked Julia, as she stooped down to inhale the rich fragrance of the beautiful flower.

"Yes, my child, it was a dear treasure to her. My Elise was a good child, she was my Idol, but my Heavenly Father has seen best to remove her from me. I only cared to live that I might be useful to her in giving her such instructions as might be a blessing to her. I almost adored her, but she is gone from me, and I am alone. I know she is happy, because she was good."

"And have you always lived here in our town?" asked Julia.

"Oh, no! I am from Italy. When my child was but two years old, I left my native shores, and with my only relative, my father, followed my young husband, who is an American, to his own land. We settled in the State of Virginia, and a short time ago he died and left me with a charge to take care of our dear Elsie. She had her father's hair and complexion, and inherited his delicate constitution, We were poor, and I labored hard, but I cared not, if I could only make my child comfortable and happy. She was not like me; her mind was full of thoughts of beauty; she would often talk of things with which I could not sympathize; the world seemed to her to be full of voices, and she would often say, 'How beautiful _heaven_ must be.' Her nature was purer and gentler than mine, and I felt that she was a fit companion of the angels. But she is now gone to be with them, and I hope soon to meet her."

Julia bid the lady good bye, and went towards her home. As she walked slowly along, she thought to herself, "Elsie with the angels!" and she dwelt upon the theme till her mother, seeing her rather different in her conduct, asked her the cause, when she replied, "Oh, mother! I want to dwell with the angels."

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FLORA AND HER PORTRAIT.

"And was there never a portrait of your beautiful child," said Anne Jones, to a lady whom she met at the grave where her child had been lain a few weeks.

"Oh, yes! but I may never have it," replied the woman as she stood weeping at the grave.

Anna did not understand the mother's tears, but in a few moments she became calm, and continued to explain.