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Down jumped the little dog in a perfect flutter of delight, and wagged his tail, and barked his short, sharp barks that said "Oh, good, good!" and ran to the door.
What did our grave old dog do but turn around very quickly, spring to the bench behind the stove, curl himself on the cushion, and go to sleep, leaving the disappointed younger one to bear the loss of his frolic and his cushion, as best he might!
"He has earned his name!" somebody said, laughing. "O, Tricksy, Tricksy! We can never say you ought to be called 'Noble' any more."
But what do you think Robbie did? Instead of being delighted with the sharpness of his dear old dog, he burst into tears.
"Why, Robbie!" mamma said. "What is the matter?"
Then Robbie wailed forth his heart-breaking question:
"Was it wicked, mamma? Tricksy didn't know any better; he is only a dog."
"Of course it was wicked!" Nelson declared in his most teasing tone. "My good little Noble wouldn't think of doing such a cheating thing."
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Whether mamma wanted to comfort Robbie or whether she thought Nelson needed the lesson; or whether it was a little of both reasons that made her speak just then, I will not stop to tell you, but what she said was:
"He may have been led astray by bad example. I wonder if it can be possible that he saw a boy take his slate and book under his arm yesterday and walk towards the stairs as if he were going to the library to study, then dodge out at the side door, hide his books under a rose-bush, and run off to play marbles with the boys?"
Not a word said Nelson; his cheeks grew red, and he looked down and fumbled with his watch-chain. Do you think his mother could have meant him?
THE two girls squealed with delight over the picture. "Just see! three falls, one on top of the other!" declared Fannie. "Oh dear me! How I should like to see them! You can't tell any thing by looking at a picture."
Tom came and looked over their shoulders.
"Where is the thing?" he asked.
"Why, it is that wonderful Giessbach fall in Switzerland that Mr. Warder told us about. He said it was just the loveliest view in all Switzerland; and he promised aunt Kate a picture of it. But pictures are the most unsatisfactory things! I want to see the color of the rocks, and the little ferns and bushes growing about, and hear the water dashing. But I don't suppose I ever shall see or hear any such things. I expect to fly, just as much as I expect to go to Switzerland."
"You needn't go to Switzerland to see a grand waterfall," declared Tom. "I don't believe Giessbach with its horrible name, is any finer than Cheyenne Cañon fall, that I stood under only last week. I tell you, Fannie, that was a sight! Three falls, distinct from each other, yet all tumbling into one at the bottom, and making the grandest kind of white foam. I stood as close to it as I do to you, and the spray came all over my face. Then we went up the mountain and looked down on it all. How many falls do you think we saw then? Seven of them, all roaring down together. That was a sight to remember, and we didn't have to go abroad for it, either. You can just make up your mind, Fannie, that there are about as grand things to look at in our own country as can be found anywhere."
But Fannie was in the mood to grumble:
"Oh, well, one might as well go abroad as to go to Colorado; I don't expect ever to be able to go there, either."
"Humph!" said Tom. "Neither did I expect to; I could have imagined myself in the moon as well as in Colorado, three weeks before I went; yet I went, and so may you. People can't ever tell what may happen to them. You just remember that when you do go, there is one place to see; the falls of Cheyenne Cañon. People who have seen both, say that there is nothing grander in Switzerland than they get up in that cañon."
Cora, meantime, had been listening in silence, gazing with thoughtful, far-away eyes at the picture. At last she spoke:
"Tom, what did you think of when you stood looking up at the wonderful foamy water coming down from so high a place?"
Tom's face flushed a little.
"People think different things," he said, laughing. "As I stood there looking at it, I said, 'What a grand place that would be for a shower bath. I'd just like to go and stand under it, and take a good one.' There was a little chap stood by me, a pale-faced fellow with blue eyes, who had taken off his cap and stared up without speaking, for ten minutes. Just then he turned to me and said:"
"'I've been thinking how easy it must be for God to make wonderful things! Here he has made all this white water and tumbled it down from away up in heaven—that is the way it looks—just for the sake of giving these old still rocks something bright to play with.'"
"Wasn't that a poetical thought? Sounds like you, Cora. It made me think of you at the time."
RUFUS lay at full length on the sofa, and puffed a cigar, back parlor though it was; when Mr. Parker reminded him of it, he said there were no ladies present, and puffed away. Between the puffs he talked:
"There is one argument against foreign mission work which is unanswerable; the country cannot afford it. Two millions and a half of money taken out this year, and sent to the cannibals, or somewhere else. No country can stand such a drain as that upon it, with everything else it has to do. Foreign missions are ruinously expensive."
The two young sisters of Rufus, Kate and Nannie, stood on the piazza and laughed.
"O Rufus!" said Kate. "You won't take a prize in college for logic, I'm sure."
"What do you mean, little monkey? And 'what do you know about logic?"
"More than you do I should think. Just imagine the country not being able to afford two millions and a half for missions, when just a few years ago it paid over four millions for Havana cigars. Have you thought of that, Rufus?"
"And I wonder how much champagne is a bottle?" chimed in Nannie. "How much is it, Rufus? You know about ten million bottles are used every year. And oh! why, Rufus, don't you know that we spend about six millions for dogs! Something besides foreign missions might be given up to save money, I should think."
"Where did you two grow so wise? Where did you get all those absurd items?"
"We got them at the Mission Band; Kate is secretary, and I'm treasurer, and these figures were all in the dialogue that Dr. Stephens wrote for us to recite. If you choose to call what he says absurd, I suppose you can; but he is a graduate from a college, and a theological seminary, beside. I mean to tell him that you think two millions and a half for foreign missions, will ruin the country; I want to hear him laugh." And then the two girls laughed merrily.
"You needn't tell him anything about it," said Rufus sharply. After the girls ran away, he added thoughtfully:
"How fast girls grow up! I thought those two were children; and here they are with the Mission Bands, and their large words about 'secretaries and treasurers.'"
"And their embarrassing facts about money," interrupted Mr. Parker. "Those girls had the best of the argument, Rufus;" and then he too laughed.
INTERLAKEN means between the lakes, and is the name of a village in Switzerland. It is situated between two lakes called Thun and Brienz. All you geography scholars will be able to turn to it in your minds, or if not so, on your maps. The village is in a plain and on the river Aare, and you have in the picture a view of the bridge across the river. The people who live at Interlaken lead quite uneventful lives, gaining the means of living by carving toys in all sorts of quaint devices, which are sold in the shops which line the principal streets. The wonderful scenery brings large numbers of visitors to the place, and these visitors are the purchasers of the curiosities of the shops.
Large quantities of Swiss lace and Swiss carving find its way to the United States in the trunks of American travellers; and I have no doubt that when you visit Europe you will bring away a quantity of the work of these same Interlaken lace-makers and carvers. However you may set your face against the folly, you will be sure to find some things which you must have.
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The scenery in this valley is among the finest in Switzerland. From the windows of some of the pensions or boarding-houses, you may get a view of the celebrated "Jungfrau." Do you know that Jungfrau means "the maiden?" There seems to be a dispute as to the origin of the name. Some say it was given to this lofty peak because of the spotless purity of appearance on account of the unsullied snow which always covers its summit. The view which you get of the Jungfrau at Interlaken is through an opening in the range of lower mountains that lie at the base of the grand old mountain itself, which is nearly fourteen thousand feet high. I believe that the first to reach the top was a party of natives of the valley, in 1828.
Soon after a scientific expedition, accompanied by the renowned Agassiz, made the ascent. You will find within a few miles of the village of Interlaken many points of wild and picturesque beauty, and you will want to visit the waterfall Staubbach, which means "sky born," and is one of the highest in Europe.
"C-H-E-S-T-E-R!" It was his mother's voice, and it rang out from her room in the second story. "Only half an hour until school-time."
"Yes'm," shouted Chester. "I'll be there." But he bent over the tub and rubbed Sport so fiercely that he howled.
"Keep still, sir," said Chester. "A dog who can't stand being washed shouldn't have white feet and a white nose; I'm not going to have you trotting around looking so horrid dirty as you have for a week. Look here, sir; don't you try to bite me. If you do, you'll get a whipping. I'm in a hurry."
Rub, rub, souse, souse!
Poor Sport shivered, and howled, and struggled, and looked as though he would never feel equal to his name again: but Chester splashed away.
His mother opened her window again.
"My son, you shouldn't have begun with the dogs this morning; you knew it was late. Let Sport go at once, and leave Beauty until to-night."
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"O, mamma! I cannot possibly leave Beauty. He looks worse than Sport did."
"Can't help it, my boy. You will be late to school, and have a poor lesson."
"I'm coming, mamma, right away."
Out went Sport to the piece of carpet with which he was rubbed; glad was he to get out of that horrible tub at any cost. But in went Beauty, and the soaping, and howling, and splashing, and scolding went on again. Chester worked fast, no doubt—although I suppose Beauty did not think so—but before his work was half done, the window of his mother's room went up with a click that meant business.
"Chester, put that dog on the ground and come here immediately."
Which Chester immediately did, shaking the soapy drops from him as he went.
I suppose you are not surprised to hear that half an hour afterwards, in the arithmetic class, he said that seven times eight was ninety-four, and insisted that such was the case, even after half the girls in the class were laughing over it. This is about a specimen of the way in which he knew his entire lesson. Of course he sat gloomily in his seat during recess, with his arithmetic upside down.
"Chester," his teacher asked, "how is it that you failed on your lesson this morning?"
"I didn't have time to study it, sir."
"Is that so?" said Mr. Pierson. He thought a great deal of Chester, who, to tell you the truth, generally had his lesson. His mother often had trouble about it, but the teacher rarely had. "I think I'll have to excuse you," his teacher said kindly, "if you really had not the time to learn it. You may make it up to-morrow."
And Chester went to the playground with a hurrah on his lips. He seemed to be very happy the rest of the day. When he went home, he was full of play, and greeted the dogs with words of praise for keeping themselves looking so well.
"Your nose is almost as clean as it was this morning, when you fought so hard against my washing it, you ungrateful fellow!" he said to Sport.
A very happy boy he was all the evening. He went to bed happy. He knelt down in his white night-suit and said "Our Father," and then hopped into bed with a whistle, and the next minute was asleep.
Poor Chester! Why? Oh, to be a boy who disobeyed his mother, and told two falsehoods, and yet to think so little of it all that he could go to bed whistling, without even having asked to be forgiven, is to be a boy who needs pity.
Two falsehoods? Yes, indeed! Didn't he say to his mother, "I'm coming right away," and go on with his work that she had directed him to leave? Didn't he tell the teacher he "hadn't time," when the truth would have been that he chose to take the time which belonged to the arithmetic for something else?
White and clean! Oh, yes, that is what the dogs were; clean as to their consciences for that matter, if they had any; for I believe they acted as well as they knew how all that day. But how was it with Chester's heart?
PEOPLE laughed when they saw the sign again. It seemed to be always in Mr. Peters' window. For a day or two, sometimes for only an hour or two, it would be missing, and passers-by would wonder whether Mr. Peters had at last found a boy to suit him; but sooner or later, it was sure to appear again.
"What sort of a boy does he want, anyway?" one and another would ask. And then they would say to each other, that they supposed he was looking for a perfect boy, and in their opinion, he would look a good while before he found one. Not that there were not plenty of boys—as many as a dozen used sometimes to appear in the course of a morning, trying for the situation. Mr. Peters was said to be rich and boys were very anxious to try to suit him. "All he wants is a fellow to run of errands; it must be easy work and sure pay." This was the way they talked to each other. But Mr. Peters wanted more than a boy to run of errands. John Simmons found that out, and this was the way he did it. He had been engaged that very morning, and had been kept busy all the forenoon, at pleasant enough work, and although he was a lazy fellow, he rather enjoyed the place.
It was towards the middle of the afternoon that he was sent up to the attic, a dark, dingy place, inhabited by mice and cobwebs.
"You will find a long deep box there," said Mr. Peters, "that I want to have put in order. It stands right in the middle of the room, you can't miss it."
John looked doleful. "A long deep box, I should think it was!" he told himself, as the attic door closed after him. "It would weigh most a ton, I guess; and what is there in it? Nothing in the world but old nails, and screws, and pieces of iron, and broken keys and things; rubbish, the whole of it! Nothing worth touching, and it is as dark as a pocket up here, and cold, besides; how the wind blows in through those knotholes! There's a mouse! If there is any thing that I hate, it's mice! I'll tell you what it is, if old Peters thinks I'm going to stay up here and tumble over his rusty nails, he's much mistaken. I wasn't hired for that kind of work."
Whereupon John bounced down the attic stairs, three at a time, and was found lounging in the show window, half an hour afterwards, when Mr. Peters appeared.
"Have you put that box in order already?" was the gentleman's question.
"I didn't find any thing to put in order; there was nothing in it but nails and things."
"Exactly; it was the 'nails and things' that I wanted put in order; did you do it?"
"No, sir, it was dark up there, and cold; and I didn't see any thing worth doing; besides, I thought I was hired to run of errands."
"Oh," said Mr. Peters, "I thought you were hired to do as you were told." But he smiled pleasantly enough, and at once gave John an errand to do down town, and the boy went off chuckling, declaring to himself that he knew how to manage the old fellow; all it needed was a little standing up for your rights.
Precisely at six o'clock John was called and paid the sum promised him for a day's work, and then, to his dismay, he was told that his services would not be needed any more. He asked no questions; indeed he had time for none, as Mr. Peters immediately closed the door.
The next morning the old sign "Boy Wanted" appeared in its usual place.
Before noon it was taken down, and Charlie Jones was the fortunate boy. Errands, plenty of them; he was kept busy until within an hour of closing. Then, behold he was sent to the attic to put the long box in order. He was not afraid of a mouse, nor of the cold, but he grumbled much over that box; nothing in it worth his attention. However, he tumbled over the things, growling all the time, picked out a few straight nails, a key or two, and finally appeared down-stairs with this message: "Here's all there is worth keeping in that old box; the rest of the nails are rusty, and the hooks are bent, or something."
"Very well," said Mr. Peters, and sent him to the post-office. What do you think? by the close of the next day, Charlie had been paid and discharged, and the old sign hung in the window.
"I've no kind of a notion why I was discharged," grumbled Charlie to his mother. "He said he had no fault to find, only he saw that I wouldn't suit. It's my opinion he doesn't want a boy at all, and takes that way to cheat. Mean old fellow!"
It was Crawford Mills who was hired next. He knew neither of the other boys, and so did his errands in blissful ignorance of the "long box," until the second morning of his stay, when in a leisure hour he was sent to put it in order. The morning passed, dinner time came, and still Crawford had not appeared from the attic. At last Mr. Peters called him. "Got through?"
"No, sir; there is ever so much more to do."
"All right; it is dinner time now; you may go back to it after dinner." After dinner back he went; all the short afternoon he was not heard from, but just as Mr. Peters was deciding to call him again, he appeared.
"I've done my best, sir," he said, "and down at the very bottom of the box I found this." "This" was a five dollar gold piece.
"That's a queer place for gold," said Mr. Peters. "It's good you found it; well, sir, I suppose you will be on hand to-morrow morning?" This he said as he was putting the gold piece in his pocket-book.
After Crawford had said good-night and gone, Mr. Peters took the lantern and went slowly up the attic stairs. There was the long deep box in which the rubbish of twenty-five years had gathered. Crawford had evidently been to the bottom of it; he had fitted in pieces of shingle to make compartments, and in these different rooms he had placed the articles, with bits of shingle laid on top and labeled thus: "Good screws." "Pretty good nails." "Picture nails." "Small keys, somewhat bent." "Picture hooks." "Pieces of iron whose use I don't know." So on through the long box. In perfect order it was at last, and very little that could really be called useful, was to be found within it. But Mr. Peters as he bent over and read the labels, laughed gleefully and murmured to the mice: "If we are not both mistaken, I have found a boy, and he has found a fortune."
Sure enough; the sign disappeared from the window and was seen no more. Crawford became the well-known errand boy of the firm of Peters & Co. He had a little room neatly fitted up, next to the attic, where he spent his evenings, and at the foot of the bed hung a motto which Mr. Peters gave him.
"It tells your fortune for you, don't forget it," he said when he handed it to Crawford.
And the boy laughed and read it curiously: "He that is faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in much."
"I'll try to be, sir," he said; and he never once thought of the long box over which he had been faithful.
All this happened years ago. Crawford Mills is errand boy no more, but the firm is Peters, Mills, Co. A young man and a rich man. "He found his fortune in a long box full of rubbish," Mr. Peters said once, laughing. "Never was a five dollar gold piece so successful in business as that one of his has been; it is good he found it." Then after a moment of silence he said gravely: "No, he didn't; he found it in his mother's Bible. 'He that is faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in much.' It is true; Mills the boy was faithful, and Mills the man we trust."
DO you know, if I were in Paris one of the sights I should want to see would be the great telescope in the Observatory. Did you ever look through a great large one?
"How did we come to have telescopes, auntie?" I heard a little boy ask the other day as he passed the large one in the Park.
The auntie had not studied very carefully, for she said she supposed somebody found out how to make them; but she didn't know who he was, nor where he lived, nor when, nor how he happened to think of it. All these questions the boy asked, and had no answers save that tiresome one, "I don't know."
Perhaps other bright little boys are asking and getting no good answers. Let us see if we cannot find a little bit to tell them. In the first place, I think a man named Galileo had perhaps the most to do with inventing telescopes. Other people were studying into the matter, and trying to invent a machine that would be useful, but he is the first one who accomplished much.
He was born in Pisa, a little more than three hundred and fifty years ago. A smart boy was Galileo. He intended to be a doctor, and studied medicine when very young; but you never heard of such queer ideas as the doctors had in those days, and the more Galileo studied, the surer he felt that a great many of their teachings were nonsense. One evening when he was about eighteen years old, he stood in the great cathedral at Pisa and watched a hanging lamp that something had set in motion, and discovered that it swung back and forth with regular beats, very much as the little machine inside of him whose beats he could feel when he put his fingers on his wrist.
"Why!" said he to himself. "There seems to be some law regulating that motion; it keeps time with my pulse! Why couldn't there be a machine made that would beat so regularly it would measure time for us?" And that is the beginning of the story of all our clocks and watches.
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It was the beginning too, of Galileo's study about the moon and the stars, and planning ways for finding out more about them. There is a long, long story about that which you will find it very interesting to read. I could not begin to tell you of the many difficulties in the way, nor what long hard work it took to learn to make a telescope like this one in the Observatory at Paris, for instance. A great many scholars helped to study it out. One man would find out one thing, and perhaps all the others would be sure it wasn't true. Then they would argue and experiment, and quarrel a little, and call one another hard names, and perhaps discover years afterwards that they were all mistaken. So the years went by, until now we have at great expense very wonderful telescopes indeed. But oh, how carefully they have to be made! There is hardly any other instrument which requires such careful handling as these. Why, the metal of which some of the parts are made has to be ground away so that at the edges it shall not be more than one hundredth part as thick as the paper on which our books are printed.
Just think what great pains people take, and how much money they spend to find out something about those worlds which twinkle all about us at night. The first chance you have to look through a good telescope, be sure to do it. Do you know I never look through one and see the wonders flashed before me, but I am reminded of the eye of God. How many things he sees that we cannot see at all. Things going on all about us, of which we know nothing. Think of a telescope that would show other people the thoughts of our hearts. Would you like to have such an instrument pointed at you, and people looking in to see what you thought about them? Yet the wonderful God can look all the time right into your heart and mine, and see every thought.
"Thou God seest me." Remember that.
Ah, but it is a blessed thing to remember. What if he could not see the dangers all about us that we know nothing of, and so could not take care of us, and keep our feet from falling?
What if He could not see our hearts, and so did not know whether we were really sorry for sin, and really meant to serve him?
Oh, I am glad that there is a telescope so powerful that it can see me in the darkness as well as in the light.
THIRTY hundred years ago—isn't that a l-o-n-g time?—two great armies stood up to fight each other. And they had a good many battles. And one day a g-r-e-a-t big man came from one of the armies and stood on the hillside. He was larger than the largest man you ever saw.
"As big as my father?"
"Twice as big as your father."
"My father is five feet eight, he says."
"And this big man was eleven feet four. Your father's head would have just about reached to his pockets."
"Did he have big pockets?"
"A-w-f-u-l big."
"What did he have in them?"
"Nobody could tell, as he wore a brass coat, and he was brass all over him, from his head to his toes."
"Whew!"
"Yes, cap and coat and pants all shining with bright bits of brass, and these bits of brass were all lapped together like the scales of a fish."
"W-h-e-w! And what was that for?"
"So nothing could hit him and hurt him."
"Wouldn't a bullet hurt him?"
"They didn't have pistols in those days."
"Nor cannon balls?"
"Nor cannon balls."
"What, then?"
"Swords and spears."
"His must have been dreadful big."
"I guess so; as big as—as—as—"
"As big as a railroad rail?"
"Shouldn't wonder. But we'll say half, or a quarter."
"He would have been splendid to build bridges and ships."
"He chose rather to cut off good people's heads. That was about all he cared to do. That's what he wanted to do when he stood there on the hillside and for forty days kept calling for some one on the other side to come over and fight with him. He knew he was so strong and had such a strong dress on—made of brass, as I said—that he could easily cut off any one's head that dared come out against him. For there was no such giant anywhere."
"Did he just step over and cut off all the heads of the other army?"
"I'll tell you how it was, if you'll listen and not ask too many questions."
"I'll be very still."
"The other army were all afraid of this awful man, and many of them hid away behind the rocks and in the holes of the earth, and their general—"
"General Grant?"
"No, no, child; it was thirty hundred years ago."
"Oh!"
"Their general became pale with fear."
"Did he cut off the general's head?"
"I'll tell you in a minute. Be patient, and you'll know all about it."
"O yes! but do hurry; whose head?"
"One day there came a beautiful youth to the army to see his brothers and bring them something nice."
"Did he cut off his head?"
"Wait, now."
"I will."'
"And he—"
"Which 'he'?"
"This youth. He offered to go and fight the giant and—"
"How big was he? And was he covered all over with those brass pieces lapped tight like the fish scales?"
"They wanted him to wear a good many things to cover his head and arms and breast and legs, so the giant couldn't hit him and draw blood, and so he put them on; but they were so large and heavy he could hardly walk or lift his hands to his head—"
"To keep the giant from cutting it off?"
"Yes. He could not do any thing with his head off."
"Only just hop about, I s'pose, like a hen."
"So he took them all off and started—"
"His coat and jacket and cap?"
"No, no; only the things—the other things—and started to meet the giant."
"Alone?"
"All alone. And the big army and the general stood back looking and trembling and expecting the giant would cut him all to pieces with his awful sword."
"Did he?"
"You'll see."
"Didn't he have anything in his hand, a club, or a hammer, or a long sharp iron? I would have taken our big watch dog Prince. Tell you, you ought t' 'ave seen him shake a tramp one day."
"But your Prince couldn't have hurt this giant, because of his brass dress."
"He could have Barked. Did you ever hear our Prince bark and growl?"
"But this youth didn't have your Prince to go with him, and so he had to take what he could and go out to meet the giant."
"I guess he didn't go very fast. I'd a jest crept slyly along on my hands and knees, still as a mouse, and when I got close up behind him I'd a jest sprung upon him like a cat, right into his hair and face, and pulled his eyes and hair all out before he could a-said 'Jack Robinson.'"
"But there was a man with the giant watching; and how could you jump eleven feet and tear his eyes and hair out, when he was covered all over with brass!"
"Oh!"
"But this youth was not afraid of the giant. He had killed two big giants before this."
"Tell me their names."
"Well, one was a Mr. Bear and the other was a Mr. Lion. But I can't stop to tell you about them now. So he was not afraid. He trusted in God and no one, not everybody altogether, is as great and strong as God. He was good at slinging stones. He could hit a mark almost every time. So he pulled his sling out of his pocket and picked up a few stones and put one in and ran right toward the old giant, and as he ran he swung the sling round and round as fast as he could, and the Lord helped him, and he aimed right at the giant's head."
"Did he hit him?"
"Hit him right in the forehead."
"Good! GOOD! GOOD!"
"And the stone sank deep into his head—"
"How the bits of brass must a-flew, though."
"No, the great big man had uncovered his face and eyes so he could see his little foe better, maybe, and the good Lord helped the youth to sling the stone right here."
"Wasn't that splendid?"
"And down he went flat on the ground with his great sword and spear and his shiny brass hat and dress, and the man that was with him, he was so scared, he screamed at the top of his voice and ran back as fast as his feet could carry him, and all the giant's big army ran, and the other general—"
"General Sherman?"
"No, NO, child; it was years and years ago."
"Oh!"
"They all ran after the giant's army, and—"
"What did the youth and the giant do?"
"He cut off his head."
"Which 'he'?"
"You see the giant was flat on the ground, and Da—I mean the youth, ran upon him as he lay there and cut his big head clear off, and that was the end of him."
"He didn't do it with that sling, did he?"
"He picked up the giant's own sword and cut it off with that."
"He must have been very strong, and took both hands, or he couldn't a-lifted that sword most as big as a railroad rail. Did you say his name was Da—?"
"David."
"'David'?"
"Yes."
"What was the giant's name?"
"Goliath."
"'Goliath'?"
"Yes. David and Goliath. I guess you have heard about them before."
"It's a B-i-b-l-e story, I do declare. Tell another."
"Will you promise to keep very still and not interrupt me so?"
"If I can."
"Well, there was once a little boy about your size, hair and eyes and skin very much like yours."
"What was his name?"
"You promised to keep still."
"Well, I'll try."
"One day there came a big, dreadful giant after him."
"To cut off his head?"
"Not quite that, but—"
"I'm so glad."
"But to take him home with him and adopt him."
"What's that?"
"To make him his child."
"Ugh!"
"And stay with him always and do just what he told him."
"Cut off heads? And what else does he have 'em do?"
"Every thing bad—lie, and steal, and drink, and gamble, chew tobacco and do ever so many wicked things."
"What did the boy do? Did he have any sling and stones? And was the giant covered all over with bits of brass, all lapped together like fish scales?"
"Yes, he was pretty well covered up; but there was one bare spot as big as a dollar—"
"A gold dollar?"
"About. But the boy had a good sling which his good mother gave him one Fourth of July day instead of fire crackers."
"Can't I have some crackers?"
"Never mind now. His mother showed him how to use it, too."
"Ha! Ha! Ha! Just to think of my mother a-slingin'! Ha! Ha!"
"And his Sunday-school teacher, she also knew well how to use this sling. She had been practising with one just like it for a whole year. She told him ever so much how to put the stones in and just what kind of a stone to use every time."
"Were there different stones?"
"Oh my, yes! Ever so many; a hundred or thousand. I don't know how many."
"How can you tell 'em apart?"
"They are all marked."
"Who marked them all?"
"God. He takes a great deal of trouble for everybody, but always for children. When Jesus was on the earth he took little ones in his arms and blessed them, and said suffer them to come unto me.'"
"He is very wonderful. How did he mark the stones?"
"He put plain words upon them. Upon some the little word no; upon others yes, or faith, or prayer, or hope, or Bible, or love, or peace, or heaven, or forgive, or Jesus, and a great many more names that I can't think of now."
"Which stone did he take of 'em all? Or maybe he put in two or three, so if one wouldn't hit the other would, just as uncle Jason does when he loads the gun for squirrels."
"He didn't need but one stone, and it so happened he knew which it was, for his mother had told him before about this old giant and what stone to sling into his wicked face. So he reached his hand into the bag where they are kept, and felt about till he got one with the little word no on it, and this he soon clapped into his sling, and with a sharp twirl or two about his head he let fly, and away went the giant howling and running at hot speed."
"Has he never come back?"
"Oh, yes! Every little while he turns up, but almost always in a different dress, so no one will think him the same wicked old creature that he is. But it is easy to know him every time, whatever clothes he has on, for he always wants one to do some mischief."
"And must you always sling the same stone at him?"
"Always the same; never the one marked yes, but the one marked no."
"Are there a good many such? I should think they would soon be used up, if the giant comes back very often."
"That's one of the strangest things about these stones, the more you sling the more you have to sling. I guess God is so pleased when one of his children throws one at this wicked giant, he puts two more in its place."
"What are the other stones for?"
"They are for all the other giants."
"Other giants! Are there more?"
"Ever so many; ever so many."
"Oh, dear! it's just too bad. I wish they were all dead. Did that boy kill them all that he slung at?"
"No, no; they keep coming at him every day. There were two about him to-day."
"Two? ugh! Who were they?"
"Well, old giant Hate. He's a horrid creature. He goes about trying to set people against each other. He is so delighted if he can get a brother and sister out with each other that he laughs all night long."
"Did he get very near the boy?"
"Well, he did; but just as he was going to lay his big ugly hands upon him, he thought of his stone and in a moment he had his hand in the bag and out came a stone that is marked love; and when the giant saw it, he fled with all his might and main. But he'd scarcely gone when in came another. His name is giant Satan. He is a very mighty giant, the prince of them all, and he carries hundreds and hundreds of darts, and they are all different, and some are very sharp; some burn like fire when they strike; some fly swifter than lightning."
"Oh, don't! It's awful! What DID he do when giant Satan came with all those fiery darts? Ugh!"
"He just flung stone after stone till he had to gather up all his darts and hurry off into darkness somewhere. He's as 'fraid as death of some stones. He'll dodge a thousand ways rather than be hit with one of them."
"What are they? I want to know; he may come at me?"
"Here they are, my dear child. You'll need them every moment of your life just as much as this boy I've been telling you about, who has learned how to use so many of them."
"Oh! May I have them all?"
"Just as many as you will sling; and I want you to promise me that you will never, NEVER, NEVER hang up your sling or throw it away, but just keep it busy all the days of your life, driving away the giants that come at you and that come at others."
"I will. How beautiful these stones are. But see! This is the most beautiful of all."
"And what is the name of it?"
"J-e-s-u-s, Jesus."
"Yes, you need not fear a thousand giants all at once, so long as you have that stone to sling. That is the living stone. It will grind them to powder."