[2]Do not be in a hurry to believe this, as I think you will find it something of a mistake.
[2]Do not be in a hurry to believe this, as I think you will find it something of a mistake.
Nearly all the managers were sewing in one of the parlors; I went in and said, "I am going to frighten ten bad boys out of their wits."
The ladies all burst out laughing. "The idea ofyourfrightening a child," they said. "Won't you let us come in and see the fun?"
"You had better take your pocket handkerchiefs out if you do, for you will be more likely to cry than laugh; but I won't let you come at all. It is too serious a matter."
They laughed at me again, and pretended to believe that I meant to give the children a stick of candy apiece; but I walked into the great school room, looking very serious, and I felt very serious too, when I saw one of the boys standing in the corner for punishment. Going up to the teacher's desk, I said, "Miss H——, don't you think it would be a good planto take all thegoodchildren to Central Park some day?"
"I saw one of the Boys standing in the corner for punishment."
"I saw one of the Boys standing in the corner for punishment."
"Yes, madam; but I am afraid there will not be many to go."
I looked out of the corner of my eye, and saw that the poor little orphans were gazing eagerly at me; and rapping on the desk, so as to command perfect silence, I began, in a very grave tone, this speech:
"My dear children, there is one thing I want you to believe, before I say another word, and that is, thatI love you."
I stopped and looked round. Oh, what glances of affection came from those orphans' eyes! and one little bit of a boy, who had been made to sit on the floor close by the teacher's desk, because the boy next him had tickled him and made him laugh out loud at prayers—this little fellow put up his hand and smoothed mydress. I took his little fat fingers in mine, and went on:
"Yes, I love you dearly. I don't expect you to be perfect children, because no one is always good; but I want you to think, how kind your Father in Heaven has been to you, to place you here; instead of allowing you to wander about the streets, learning to lie and steal, and use wicked words. The least you can do, is to try—mind, I say 'try'—to be good and obedient. You all know that many of the greatest men in this country were poor boys, with not half the advantages you have here. There is nothing to prevent any one of you boys from some day becoming the President of the United States; there is nothing to prevent you all becoming what is far higher—that is, Christian gentlemen. But for the present, what do you think, both boys andgirls, about behaving so well as to deserve an excursion to Central Park?"
A tremendous cheer followed this question, and then I went on: "Well, if you are good for two weeks, you shall go. In the mean time, I wish to see ten of you boys (I won't tell their names before the rest) next Friday in the little recitation room. I shall have something particular to say to them, and I do hope they will be such very good boys from this time to then, that what I shall say will be very pleasant; and now three cheers for Central Park."
The children made a tremendous noise; for that was what they liked to do: and I went out laughing and nodding at them.
Then I got a sheet of paper, and wrote in great letters, quite an inch long, "Central Park for Good Children;" and carrying it into the school room, I pasted it in a conspicuous place, so that all disposedto be naughty might be constantly reminded of this delightful reward for good conduct; and then I said, "Good-by, girls and boys;" and they shouted back, "Good-by, Aunt Fanny," and I left them.
The next Friday, I went again to the Orphan's Home; I had prayed for my ten naughty boys every night, and I made up my mind to be very gentle and kind to them. I took a copy of the "Independent Newspaper" with me, in which was an excellent story; the very thing to read to them. It was called "New-Year's Resolutions," and was signed "I. G. O." I wish I knew the author, so that I could thank her for writing it.[3]
Well, the ladies laughed at me again, and begged to peep in at the door to seeme frighten my naughty boys; but I would not let them. I went into the pleasant little recitation room, and found them all there.
[3]I obtained permission of one of the editors of the "Independent," to insert this admirable story. Without that permission, it would have been omitted. It was written by Miss Isabella Graham Oakley, Cincinnati, Ohio. I thank her heartily.
[3]I obtained permission of one of the editors of the "Independent," to insert this admirable story. Without that permission, it would have been omitted. It was written by Miss Isabella Graham Oakley, Cincinnati, Ohio. I thank her heartily.
They did not look the least alarmed, but quite pleased; so I said, "Old fellows, come and shake hands with me; then you will feel that I am a friend, and I am sure you will attend to what I say."
"Yes, indeed we will," they all exclaimed; and they very nearly squeezed my hand off.
"Now," said I, "let me hear what you have to complain of, and what has tempted you to be so disobedient and disrespectful to your teacher."
Thereupon they all commenced talking at once, and made themselves out to be the most abused boys in the world. "Such long lessons! Couldn't go out and play in the wet snow! were sent to bed for nothing at all!" &c., &c.
All the time they were talking they were playing off monkey tricks upon each other. One boy would call another suddenly, with his sharp finger-nail close to his cheek. Of course, when the other turned, his cheek would come bump against the finger. Another boy, who had his hair cut very short, was favored with experiments on it by the others: each one trying to see how much he could pinch up in a thumb and finger; and once, when I got up to open the window a little, a boy on the end of the long bench tipped it, and upset all the rest on the floor.
I could not help laughing; but at last I said, "Now, boys, it'smyturn to speak, so be quiet." Then I told them of poor children wandering in the streets that very day, without shoes or stockings, dirty, starving, taught to lie and steal, and sure, if they grew up, to do worse and worse, till they ended their days inprison, or were perhaps hung for murder. "My dear boys," I continued, "use your reason, and see how much better you are off. You are clothed, fed, and above all, taught how to lead pure lives. You know all about your Saviour, who died for you and me. We take care of you, because we love you. I love you all dearly, and you don't know what a happy and proud woman I shall be if I live a few years longer, and hear of you boys as good, perhaps great men. There is nothing to prevent it. I am sure you would rather be good than bad. I am quite certain, when you have been bad, that your conscience makes you miserable. Is it not so?"
The tears were trembling in some of the boys' eyes; and one or two answered in a loud voice, "Yes, ma'am."
"Well, I will read you this beautiful story. It will instruct you in your duty much better than I can."
They all brightened up wonderfully at the prospect of a story, and listened to it in breathless attention. Here it is.
It was New Year's evening, and the parlors, not yet lighted, were warm and quiet, when Joel Goodwill walked listlessly in and sat down in an easy chair before the grate.
"Now is a first-rate chance to think what I will do this year," said he to himself. He thought he was alone; but he had been there only a few minutes when some one spoke to him from the back parlor. It was his father.
"Why, father, you there?" said Joel. "I thought there was no one here."
"Come here, my son," said his father. Joel obeyed, and found his father sittingbefore the fire in the other room; he sat down on his knee.
"I have just been reviewing my past year, and laying some plans for this New Year; have you had any such thoughts, Joel?" asked his father.
"Yes, sir," replied Joel, soberly.
"You have been making good resolutions then for the future, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir; I'm going to turn over a new leaf, and do first-rate in school this year, and home too."
"Have you looked over your past year pretty closely?"
"Not so very much."
"Have you come up to the purpose of the good resolutions you made last New Year's?"
"No, sir, I expect not; I can't remember very well all I've done, or what they were."
"Seems to me you drew up a copy of resolves then, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Suppose you go and get them, and and let us look them over."
Joel said he didn't believe he could find them; he hadn't seen them for ever so long. However, he went up to his little room, and fortunately alighted upon them quite readily, in a little drawer where he kept his certificates of merit, and some other choice things.
On his way down stairs he tried to remember what there was written on the paper; but he could not recall a line. He only recollected that he was sitting at his father's secretary drawing up his "resolutions," last New Year's day, when he came suddenly behind him with a beautiful new leather satchel for him, and that he took up the paper and talked a little about it. When he reached the parlor he handed the paper to his father, remarking, "We can't see to read by the fire."
"I think we shall make it out," replied he, turning it up so that all the fire-light might reflect from it. It was written in a large, clear hand, Joel's handsomest, and was quite legible there.
"Let us see now what you meant to do last New Year."
Joel, with some secret misgivings about the proceeding, took his seat again on his father's knee, who commenced:
"January 1, 1861.—Resolutions for my conduct during the coming year: 'First—I shall read in the Bible and pray faithfully every day. Dr. S. told the children last Sunday that any child who persevered in this for one year would certainly become a Christian, and I am resolved to become a Christian.'"
Here his father paused. Joel was looking very gravely into the fire.
"Well, Joel, has that resolution been kept?"
"No, sir, not long."
"How long was it kept?"
"I don't know. I kept it pretty good for a while, I know; maybe till I went away to uncle's in March."
"What caused you to give it up?"
"I don't know, sir. I expect because Ben and Charley and the rest didn't care anything for their Bibles; so I gave up reading."
"Then you have not proved what Dr. S. said, have you?"
"No, sir."
"And you are no nearer being a Christian than you were last New Year's?"
"No, sir," replied Joel, feeling uncomfortable and mortified by these searching questions. His father proceeded:
"'Second: I am resolved to remember the Golden Rule in all my conduct toward my brothers and sisters.' Well, how has that fared?"
"I've kept that, part of the time, I'm sure; not always, I suppose."
"Then you don't remember having broken it?"
"No—yes, sir; I broke it to-day when I teased Ellie."
"Is that the only time you remember?"
"I broke it last Saturday when I went off with Harry's sled."
"And yesterday when you ran off and left Benny crying alone on the sidewalk, and Christmas day when you chose the best book, and—"
"Pray, don't go on, father, don't tell me any more," interrupted poor Joel, reddening more and more as his father recalled the things he had quite forgotten. "I know I can't keep that rule; I don't believe any boy keeps it."
"You know that youhavenot kept it; not that youcannot keep it. Well, let us go on: 'Third, I am resolved to tell thewhole and exact truth always.' How about this?"
Joel's conscience and memory, now pretty wide awake, began to murmur accusations on this point too. He had always scorned to tell an open, deliberate lie, and he knew he could say Yes to a question on that point. But he felt that "the whole and exact truth" was a little different, and he feared his father's memory would be better than his, so he stammered out, "I haven't told a lie this year past; you know I couldn't, father."
"But that is not all your resolution demands. Don't you ever go beyond the truth or stop short of it, in school or in play?"
"I'm afraid I do, sir," faltered Joel, deeply humbled to be called upon for this confession.
"Do you sometimes hide what you ought to confess, or tell a story so as toconceal your share of the blame and throw it on some one else? Can you remember any such cases?
"Yes, sir, I think of some things," said he, knowing well that his father was thinking of particular cases, fresh also to his own memory. Conscience and memory were becoming most uncomfortable monitors.
Here Mr. Goodwill stirred the fire till its bright blaze fell on all objects, bringing them clearly out of the twilight, and then went on, though Joel said he thought they had better not read any more. "Fourth, I am resolved not to be absent from school or late once this year, if I am well."
"I went to Uncle Joe's in the spring, you know, so of course I couldn't keep that."
"You went from choice, though."
"Yes, sir; but I did keep it up a month, I know."
His father then went more rapidly overthe remaining resolutions, simply desiring him when he came to one he was sure of having kept, to speak. These were of various degrees of importance; resolves to be first in his Latin class, to obtain a certain prize at school, to drink no tea and coffee, to give up by-words, &c. To no one of all these could Joel say Aye, excepting to the coffee and tea resolution. That, with help from his mother, he had carried out.
The reason why this exposure was particularly mortifying, was because Joel was quite proud of being considered a pretty good boy. He had seldom been so much humbled before. After a little pause his father said, kindly, seeing the boy's troubled face, "You thought you should do all these things when you wrote this, did you not?"
"Yes, sir. I felt sure of it."
"What is the reason you failed?"
"I don't know. I didn't try, I suppose."
"Yes, you did try, for you kept your promises partially."
"I tried awhile, but I didn't stick to it."
"Very true. Do you remember something Solomon says about searching for wisdom?"
"I don't remember."
"He says, he that would have wisdom must search for her as for silver, and seek her as a man seeks hid treasure. You seek wisdom when you set before you such resolutions as these. Now if a man believes there is gold in a certain place, he keeps digging and digging for weeks, till he strikes the vein. If he weresureit was there, I presume he would labor for it for years. But what if, when he comes to a rock, he should throw down his pick and desert the field? Has he gained anything?"
"No, sir."
"But has lost all his time and labor, and is further from fortune than ever, by the force of shiftless, unsteady habits. Now this is a case similar to yours. You are further from being generous and true and persevering, in short from possessing Christian character, than you were this time a year ago. By your carelessness and idleness, you came out of your field without a grain of gold. Besides, by making resolves and breaking them continually, you are losing all moral power and all confidence in yourself. It were better to make no promises than to be guilty of breaking so many."
Joel's convictions were fast overcoming his feelings, and the tears were starting when he asked, "What shall I do, then, if I mustn't make any more resolutions, father?"
"I do not say you must not make anymore resolutions; but before you make them, count the cost of keeping them. You must notbreakany more resolutions. One great secret of failure is, that you get discouraged because you are not perfect. Now, if you fail one day, you should not give up, but make haste to reach your old ground to-morrow. In regard to these resolutions, probably you were not sufficiently in earnest in the first place; but in the next place, you were not wise, when you first failed a little, to give up all because you could not do all. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir; do you think it is worth while for me to try this year? Idowant to do right!"
"Certainly I do. By your failure you have learned a lesson which will keep you both careful and humble in future. I will help you by warning, and God will help you; but you must rely chiefly on yourownstrongdetermination. 'The kingdom of heaven' (that is, the attainment of righteousness, such as you set before you in your New Year's resolutions) 'sufferethviolence, and the violent take it by force.'"
Joel has commenced anew to follow one or two all-important resolutions; how he will succeed, the year, as its daily pages are written, will keep record. Let all children who have shared his failure, and they are not a few, start afresh with him to share his victory, making his first resolution, to "hold fastthat which is good."
I. G. O.
"Ah! what a good story this is," said I, as I finished reading, "I wish you would all try to keep some of these resolutions."
"So we will," they cried.
"I don't think you will be successfulat first. I know that I should break them many times; but if you ask God to help you, you may in time be able to overcome the continual temptation to break them."
Then we had a long friendly talk together; and I saw, here and there, a beautiful trait, or noble impulse, in these poor orphan boys. They were rude to each other, but they were not mean; and I felt sure that, rightly trained, they would become, in time, good boys and good men.
"Suppose, my dear boys," I said, "I get pen, ink, and paper, and write out these resolutions, for each of you to keep a copy in your pockets; they will help to remind you. I will only ask you totryto keep them. Will you promise me this much?"
They all said they would try as hard as they could.
"Will you promise me to pray to God to help you?"
They promised this with downcast eyes and serious faces.
Then I said: "Well, let us see how you can mind me to begin. I am going into the committee room for the pen, ink, and paper. I expect you to sit quite still, till I come back; will you promise me this?"
"Oh yes, ma'am; we won't speak or stir from our seats," they all cried.
"I believe you," I said. I wish you could have seen their eyes sparkle when I said that! They were so glad that I put trust in them.
I went to the committee room, and there the first directress began to talk to me; and I staid much longer than I at first intended. When I went back with my writing materials, I listened an instant at the door. It was perfectly still.
"We have not moved or spoken," said all the boys at once.
"I believe you," I answered. "You are first rate fellows! not so bad, after all. I think there must have been some mistake about that bad conduct. You can behave so well when you try. I hope it is a mistake that will never happen again. I came in this room feeling very unhappy about you; but now I am very much encouraged. What do you think about being called the ten best boys in the school?"
They chuckled and grinned at this; and one boy gave another a sly poke, and said, "Here's the best boy! he hasn't known a single lesson these six weeks;" and another said, "No! this is the best boy; he broke three panes of glass last night in one of the play-room windows;" and another, "Oh, no; this is the best boy, because he's got such a big wart on his nose."
I let them talk, while I wrote on ten half pages of note paper these resolutions:
"1st.I will read the Bible, and pray, night and morning.
"2d.I will try to keep the Golden Rule.
"3d.I will always tell the exact truth."
"There," said I, "that will do." So I gave one paper to each, with a few earnest words; and shook hands with them again, as they promised me to try to keep them; and then they went softly back into the great school-room.
I looked in a few moments after, and saw that they were quietly studying.
The next Friday, I had my ten naughty boys in the little room again.
"Well," said I, "how did you keep the resolutions?"
"Oh!" cried Jacob, "I've broken the Golden Rule."
"Why, how?" I asked.
"Why, ma'am, David had a ball, and he lent it to me, and when he wanted it again,I would not give it to him, but threw it as far as I could out of the window."
"Oh, Jacob!" I exclaimed, "how well you understood what the rule is! Tell me; whatoughtyou to have done?"
"I ought to have given David his ball when he asked for it."
"Why?"
"Because, ma'am, I would have liked him to do so to me."
"Ah, yes; that is it. You understand, and you have sinned wilfully. I am very sorry, dear Jacob; but it is never too late to mend; and I am glad you have had the honesty to confess what you have done; that is a noble trait in you Jacob, and I want you to come and kiss me."
The boy burst out crying at this; and as he kissed my cheek with his trembling lips, I said to myself, "Thisa bad boy? No, he is a splendid boy!"
Don't you see that my making himfeel that Ilovedhim, was the way to his heart? I think if ladies would be just as tender to poor children as they are to their own, it would have a wonderful effect. Only make a child feel that you love him, that he is more than a poor little beggar dependent upon your charity, and he will try to deserve all your kindness.
All the boys had to confess they had broken their resolutions; and to all I talked kindly; but one of them whispered to another: "She did not give us any kiss." Fortunately I heard this, and I said, "Boys, I am going to give you another chance. I shall bring a beautiful little book next time, and the boy who has behaved the best, shall have the book. I shall not ask the teacher. I shall depend entirely on your own accounts of yourselves, for I intend to trust you, and believe what you say. To make myself certain that you would scorn to deceiveme, and above all, that you would not offend Our Heavenly Father by a falsehood, I wish you all to shake hands once more, and give me a kiss; then I am certain you will mean to keep at least the third resolution. What is it?"
"I will always tell the exact truth," they shouted.
So they kissed my cheek, and then I read to them a story I had written some time before for that dear little magazine, "The Standard Bearer." Here is the story, and the good minister's name is Dr. Prime.
The other day Aunt Fanny was talking with a good minister, and asked him which he thought were best for children—funny stories or serious ones.
"Well," said he, "suppose I relatewhat happened to me last week, and leave you to guess?"
"Oh! that will be delightful!" I answered. "I am just as fond as the children are of hearing stories, and, as they say: 'Please begin right away.'"
"Very well. Last week I was in Rochester, in this State. There is a very large orphan asylum there, and I was invited to visit it, and address the boys. I was very glad to do so; and when I entered the chapel, I found several hundred boys waiting for me—some with bright, honest faces, some looking full of mischief and fun, and all wondering what the minister was going to say, and no doubt hoping he was a good kind of a minister, who did not think it wrong to play.
"I fancy they must have seen something that pleased them in my face; for when I said, 'Boys, which would you rather have, a story or a sermon?' they all shoutedout merrily, 'A story! a story!' and some added: 'Let it begin, "Once upon a time," for that is the best kind of story.'
"Very well, boys, you shall have a story, and it shall begin just as you say.
"Once upon a time, a little girl was playing in a garden, rolling hoop, jumping rope, and talking to her doll. After a while, she ran to her mother, who was sitting upon a bench that was under a wide-spreading tree, and asked if she might have some luncheon. Her mother went into the house, and soon returned with a small basket, and gave it to the little one. What was her surprise and delight, when she peeped in, to find a light, delicate biscuit, a nice cake, a beautiful ripe peach, and a little cherry tart.
"Lucy (for that was her name) placed all these things on the bench, and clapping her hands with delight, exclaimed: 'Oh! how nice they all look! What a fineparty dolly and I will have with them!' Then she put the biscuit in dolly's white kid hand, who smiled sweetly all the time, and taking the cake in her own, began to eat it.
"Just then a poor woman approached the gate. Holding fast to her ragged dress was a little boy, so wan, so thin, so starved-looking, that Lucy stopped eating, and gazed pityingly at him.
"'Oh! what nice white bread!' said the poor boy.
"'It isnotbread—it is cake,' said Lucy.
"'Alas! little lady,' said the poor woman, 'he does not know what cake is; he is too glad to get a crust of bread.'
"'Poor boy!' said Lucy kindly. 'How strange not to know what cake is! Here, take it.'
"He seized the cake, and in a moment he had eaten it up.
"Then Lucy took up the cherry tart, and stretching out her hand, said, in her sweet voice: 'Eat this too, poor boy!'
"He did not need to be asked twice; and the tart soon disappeared.
"'Now, take this,' said Lucy, handing him the beautiful peach.
"With joyful eagerness the boy swallowed the peach, while the generous child looked on, her face glowing with delight; and then she took the biscuit out of dolly's hand, and gave it to the poor little fellow, who finished it in double quick time, and dolly smiled just as sweetly as ever, when she gave up her biscuit, which was very good-natured in her, under the circumstances. Then the poor woman poured out thanks and blessings upon the head of the dear little girl, and upon her mother who had given the poor woman a piece of money; and she and her son went on their way with grateful hearts, the littleboy looking back at Lucy as long as he could see her.
"Then the mother took the little girl in her arms, and kissed her, and said: 'My darling! you have not had any luncheon.'
"'Oh, mamma!' said Lucy, her face still glowing with pleasure, 'I feel as if I had eaten it all myself.'
"You see, boys, that the noble-hearted little child was even more happy in giving than the poor boy was in receiving; and I want you every day of your lives to love one another, and be generous and kind one to another—to do as you would wish to be done by, for this is what little Lucy did.
"God has laid His hand of blessing on your heads; He has placed you who have no earthly parents in this pleasant home, to show you that He is your Father; and the only way in which you can prove your gratitude to Him is, to 'Love one another;' and if you love one another, you will keepHis commandments. Love your teachers, and you will obey them. Love God, and you will keep His commandments.
"And now, which do you think you have had—a sermon or a story?
"'A story!' shouted some of the boys.
"'A sermon!' shouted others.
"'Both!' shouted still more."
Dear little readers, which do you think it was—a story, a sermon, orBOTH?
I asked my boys when I finished whether they thought it was a story or a sermon, and they shouted just like the other boys; some, that it was one, and some the other; but they liked it very much, and thanked me for reading it. Then I said, "I will give this little 'Standard Bearer' to any one of you: which one shall it be?"
"Give it to Jacob," shouted nearly all the boys, for they all liked him.
I handed it to Jacob; and what do you think he did? He gave it to the smallest boy, saying, "Ithink little Joseph ought to have it."
That was really noble, because he was very fond of reading, and I knew that he wanted it; but the little fellow looked so wishful, that Jacobdid as he would wish to be done by, and the bright glow on his face showed how happy this little sacrifice had made him.
And I!—wasn't I happy? Yes, indeed! And I bade them all good-by, and promised to bring a "real nice book" next time, and went back to the room where the ladies were sewing, with such a joyous expression onmyface, that they asked if my ten bad boys had all flown away to the moon? to which I gravely answered: "Thebadnesshas flown away, and left ten splendid boys."
The next Friday came; and, true to my promise, I carried a book which containeda very interesting story of two children who lived in Gibraltar with their father, who was an officer in the English army. It described the battles the English fought on sea and land to obtain possession of that famous rock; a trip the children took to Africa, which you know is just opposite; and was so full of information about the customs and manners of the people who lived there, that it made a delightful little history, told in the form of a story.
My ten boys met me in the little room with joyful greetings; but I am sorry to say they had to confess that they had not kept the resolutions any better than before. Still, as they showed plainly that they wanted to be good, I was puzzled to whom to give the book, as they all seemed to have behaved equally naughty as well as good.
"I don't want to take the bookhome again," I said; "whom shall I give it to?"
"Give it to me!" "Give it to me!" "No, to me!" each one shouted.
I looked reproachfully at them, and said quietly, "Then it seems you are all selfish."
At this they began to call out, "Give it to Jacob," "Give it to Theodore," &c.
"Well," I said, "you have all been bad alike, according to your own confessions. I will draw lots for you, on condition that the boy who gets the book shall lend it cheerfully to the rest in turn to read, and the rest of the boys must feel willing and happy to have the winner keep it. Will you try to do this?"
They eagerly promised. So I cut ten little squares of paper, while they gathered round me and looked on with the greatest interest, and on each bit of paper I put a boy's name.
"Now, boys, you will all have a chance.See—I will roll up each bit, and tumble them all together in this saucer; and then who shall take them out one by one?"
"All of us," they cried.
"No, that won't do. Let Joseph, as he is the smallest boy; and mind, thelastone wins."
"Yes, ma'am," they said; and now it was funny to see the intense importance with which little Joseph put in his thumb and finger among the papers. He took one, dropped it, and took another and handed it to me.
You could have heard a pin drop while I unfolded it; and when I read "Joseph," the little fellow's face grew so long that I felt very sorry, and wished I had bought ten books.
"Never mind, my little fellow, you will read it, you know," I said; "and you will be glad for the boy who gets it—won't you?"
He brightened up in a moment, and drew another and another till only two were left.
The two boys whose names had not yet been called were now the objects of the highest interest to the rest, and they were laughing and telling Joseph to stir the bits of paper up well. He drew again—"James" was the name—and the book belonged to Theodore, whose bright black eyes danced with delight, for his was the name left in the saucer.
"But I will let you all read it," he said, "even before I do—and little Joseph first."
I was delighted to hear him say this, and still more delighted that not a mean expression or covetous look was to be seen in the faces of my good boys. They stood the hard test nobly, and that day I was very happy.
Soon after this my daughter was takenvery ill, as you know, and I could not go for many weeks to the Home: when I did go, I found everything pleasant and quiet, but the boys were restless and troublesome. So I made a report at the beginning of the next month, stating that they did not have enough to do. You see our girls learn to sew, wash and iron, and keep house. But we were puzzled to find suitable work for our boys; and I proposed in my report that they should learn some mechanical trade, and recommended that the managers should begin with shoe-making.
To my great gratification, the ladies all approved of this; and I can tell you I soon hunted up a shoemaker who was willing to come and teach them for a little money, and in a week there was a dozen boys provided with tools, leather, &c., hard at work, and very happy learning to make and mend shoes.
Such piles of shoes as wanted mending, so many little toes had rubbed out holes, that I had to laugh, for they all looked as iftheywere laughing with their mouths wide open. I told the boys, that as soon as they knew how to make shoes well, they must make a pair of boots forme, for which I would pay them just as much as I did my shoemaker in Broadway. They were delighted at this, and ran their tongues out, and sewed away, and promised to try their very best.
About this time we got a new teacher, a kind, grave man, whom the children liked very much. I wanted to see exactly how he managed with the children; so one day I went into the school room, and asked to have my boys read for me. The teacher gave them each a history of the United States, and handed one to me. Every boy read a paragraph in turn, and I was surprised at their improvement. They mindedtheir stops, and generally placed the emphasis properly.
While they were reading, one little bit of a girl after another crept up to me and leaned confidingly against me; and before the reading was through, I had five of these motherless little ones nestling close to my knees. You see they did not have to sit very quiet, or learn much, because they were none of them five years old; and if they did not make a noise, they could move about a little. I said to one of them, "Well, little Kate, did you get a doll last Christmas?"
"Yes, ma'am," she answered; "and I broke it all to pieces."
Then she gave a little chuckling laugh, and looked so roguish, that I pinched her fat red cheeks. If you go to the Orphan's Home, ask to see Kate, and Lillie, and Maggie; for they are three nice little girls. Just before my daughter got so well thatI could return to my pleasant work at the Home, something happened which filled me with grief. Our kind first directress, and my dear friend the treasurer, resigned their offices. They grieved about it even more than I did. They had been with the orphans so long, and had worked so hard for these poor children.
But it could not be helped. They thought it best for others to take their places, although they would remain just as warm friends as ever to the little ones.
And now I believe I have written all that there is to relate about my children in the Home, up to this time. If you feel an interest in them, and you and I live another year, at the end of it I will tell you all that happens during the year. Would you like it?
That was the end. The children clappedtheir hands and said, "Oh, mamma! this is the very best story yet. Dear little orphans! how sorry we are they have no mothers and fathers! Whatshouldwe do if you should die!"
At this distressing thought, they rushed to their mother, and clasped her with I don't know how many arms, and kissed her forehead, and eyes, and nose, and chin, and the back of her head, till from very nearly crying they all got laughing; and two or three tumbled down in a heap together on the carpet. "Oh, dear, dear!" cried the little mother, laughing and struggling, "you will kill me if you love me so desperately; I shan't have half a nose or quarter of an ear left between you all. Shoo! Boo! Bang!"
They all fell off laughing, pretending to be shot; and soon after, with thanks to Aunt Fanny and their kind mother, the children went to bed.
The reading of the account of the "Orphan's Home," had taken several evenings; during which the mittens had greatly increased. For some time after this, there had been no story. The little mother, though she tried to keep it to herself, was in great anxiety about her soldier son, who had gone down with General Burnside's brigade to North Carolina. She had read the general's address to his men, in which he appealed to their honor and humanity, and asked them to treat the property of the enemy with unfailing protection and respect; and wounded soldiers who might fall into their hands,with the utmost kindness and attention; ending in his conviction that they would be as noble hearted as he knew they were brave. "Ah," she thought, "this looks as if a battle was intended."
Then the stirring news came of the capture of Roanoke Island, with a few words about the bravery of the men and the terrible hardships they had endured, fighting through dense swamps and almost impenetrable thickets.
Oh! how terrible were the next few days passed in woful, trembling suspense. There was no official report as yet, of the killed and wounded; and the hours of many a household like those of the little mother's, were passed in alternate prayers, hopes, and fears.
On the afternoon of the 14th February, Harry and Johnny went out together. They felt so distressed about their beloved brother, they could not sit still in thehouse. Near Union Park they met Gus Averill, one of Harry's friends, and some other lads. Of course the boys immediately began talking of the battle of Roanoke Island; as Gus had an elder brother in the same company with George.
"Oh, Harry!" cried Gus, "have you had any news from your brother? Is he safe?"
"We don't know yet," answered Harry sorrowfully. "Have you heard from your brother Walter?"
"No. My mother is almost crazy. That dear Miss Wilmer, to whom he is engaged to be married, comes and tries to comfort mother; but it always ends in her laying her head on mother's breast and crying, oh! so pitifully! and then mother cries; and that breaks my heart."
His lips quivered as he spoke, and the lad standing by him threw his arms affectionately over his neck, while Harry and Johnny looked grieved enough.