The Vain Search.
Mylittle reader, did you ever get lost in the woods? Perhaps not; but many children have. I knew a boy and a girl, named James and Fanny, who lived upon the slope of a mountain, more than a mile from a village.
A large part of the space between their house and the village, was covered by forests; but these children were accustomed to go to school and to church through the woods, and their parents never felt any anxiety about them.
One morning, they set out to go to school; it was August, and the weather was warm and beautiful. In descending the mountain, they came to the brow of a hill, from which they could see a small blue lake.
This was surrounded by the forest, and seemed to be at no great distance. James had often seen it before, and wished to go to it, but, on the present occasion, he could not withstand the temptation to pay it a visit. Accordingly, he set out, having persuaded Fanny to accompany him.
They pushed on through the tangled woods for some time, in the direction of the lake, and at length supposed they must be very near to it, but on coming to a little eminence, and catching a glimpse of the blue water between the trees, it still seemed as distant as before.
They were not discouraged, however, but again went forward for some time. At length Fanny said to her brother, that they had better return and go to school. James replied, that it was too late to get to school in season, and he thought the better way was to make a holiday of it. They would return home at the usual time, and their parents would know nothing about it.
“I don’t like that plan,” said little Fanny, “for our parents expect us to go to school, and if we do not go, we disobey them. Beside, if we spend the day in play, and say nothing about it, and let our parents think we have been at school, we deceive them, and that is as bad as telling a lie.”
“Oh, nonsense!” said James; “we’ll tell them we got lost, or something of the kind. Don’t you be afraid. I’ll manage that matter, so come along.”
Little Fanny went forward, but she was sad at heart; and James, too, conscious of disobedience and deception in his heart, felt unhappy; but he put on a brave face, and sang, or whistled as he proceeded.
Again the two children came to such a position that they could see the little lake, and, strange to tell, it seemed about as far off now, as when they first set out to visit it.
The fact was, they had been deceived; for the lake was much farther than it appeared to be. They had already spent two hours in their attempt to reach it; and after some consultation, they concluded to give up their enterprise, and go back.
But now their task commenced. They had pursued no beaten path, and they had nothing to guide them in their return. The sky, which had been so clear in the morning, was now over-shadowed with thick clouds. Uncertain of the course they ought to pursue, they still went forward, with trembling and anxious haste.
Coming at length to the foot of a cliff, they paused, being overcome with fatigue. James sat down and buried his face in his hands.
“What is the matter?” said Fanny. “We have lost our way, and shall never find our home again,” said James. “We have lost our way, no doubt,” said Fanny, “but I hope and trust we shall find our way out of the woods. This is come upon us, James, because of our disobedience.”
“I know it, Fanny,” said James; “but it was my disobedience, and not yours, and I am so unhappy because my wickedness has brought you into trouble; and beside, I intended to deceive our parents. I cannot but wonder, now, that I should have thought of such a thing.”
“Well, James,” said Fanny, “let this be a lesson to us both; and now we must proceed, and try to find our way out of the wood.” Accordingly, they went forward with great diligence; but having rambled about for nearly four hours, supposing all the time they were going toward their home, they came back to the very spot beneath the cliff, where they had sat down and rested themselves before.
They were now quite discouraged, and almost broken-hearted. They had picked some blue-berries in their rambles, so that they were not very hungry; but their fatigue was so great, that, after lying side by side upon the sloping bank, for a while, they both went to sleep.
It was about midnight, when Fanny awoke. She had been dreaming that she and her brother had wandered away, and got lost in the forest; that, overcome with fatigue, they had thrown themselves down on the earth at the foot of a cliff, and fallen asleep, and that they were awakened from their sleep by hearing the call of their father, ringing through the solitude.
It was at this point of her dream, that Fanny awoke. For a moment she was bewildered, but soon recollected where she was. She cast her eye about, and saw that no shelter was over her, but the starry canopy of heaven.
She looked around, and could see nothing but the ragged outline of the hills against the sky. She listened, and seemed to feel that the voice heard in her dream was a reality, and that she should hear it again. But she now heard only the solitary chirp of a cricket, and the mournful shivering of the forest leaves.
She sat some time, almost afraid to make the slightest noise, yet feelingsuch a sense of desolation that she thought she must wake up her brother.
She was stretching out her hand for the purpose of waking him, when she seemed to hear the call of her father, as she had heard it in her dream. She listened intently, her little heart beating with the utmost anxiety.
She waited for several minutes, when, full and clear, at no great distance, she heard her father call, “James?” The little girl sprang to her feet, and screamed, with all her might, “Here, here we are, father!” James was soon awakened, and, with some difficulty, the father came down the cliff, and clasped his children in his arms.
I need not say that this painful adventure was remembered by James and Fanny long after they had ceased to be children; and they were both accustomed to say, that it was of importance to them through life, in impressing upon them the necessity of obedience to parents, and the wickedness of all attempts to deceive them.
Let me remark to my youthful readers, that if pleasure ever tempts them to forsake the path of duty, I hope they will remember, that, like the blue lake, which seemed so beautiful and near to the eyes of our little wanderers, and which was yet inaccessible to them, it will probably disappoint their efforts to obtain it.—Parley’s Gift.