The King's Daughter and Other Stories for Girls

by Various

  Teach me how to please and gladden Those who toil and care for me; Manya grief their heart must sadden, Let me still their comfort be.

  THEY TOOK ME IN

  * * * * *

  "Who is she?"

  "Couldn't say. She is a stranger here, I think."

  "Yes, she lives in that little house down by the bridge, you know,girls, that tiny bit of a house covered with that white rose."

  "Where we always got such lots of flowers to decorate with because noone ever lived there. Why, the house is almost tumbled down. How cananyone live there?"

  "No one would if they were not very poor. Of course you can tell by thegirl's clothes that she is poor."

  "Come on, girls, never mind talking about her," said one of the numberimpatiently. "What difference does it make to us who she is? We will belate," and the troop of merry girls passed on down the street.

  Meantime the subject of this conversation was hurrying in anotherdirection, her eyes blinded by the quick tears that had sprung unbiddento them when the wistful glance she had cast at the girls had been metwith only those of cold curiosity.

  "It is hard to be so alone," she murmured, "but I must not let mammaknow."

  The girls went on their way, unconscious of the wistful look, orunthinking that they had been in any way unkind.

  Nellie Ross had noticed, however, and she was thoughtful all theafternoon. How must it feel, she wondered, to be alone among strangers.As they were returning home toward night, she whispered to herparticular friend:--

  "Do you know, Mabel, I can not help thinking of that girl we met thismorning."

  "What girl?" asked Mabel Willis, with a slightly puzzled air.

  "Why, the one that Margaret said lived in the little cottage you know."

  "O yes. What about her?"

  "Why she looked at us so wistfully, and I never see her with anyone; shemust be lonely."

  "Well?"

  "You know what the Bible says," slowly: "'I was a stranger and ye tookMe not in.' This girl is a stranger and don't you think we might applythat?"

  "Just what are you thinking of, Nellie?"

  "I was thinking that we might call on her and ask her to join ourSabbath school class, and that might open the way."

  Mabel laughed. "You always were a regular missionary, Nellie; but Ihardly believe I care to go with you," with a shrug of her shoulders.

  Nellie was disappointed, but she said no more for she had learned theuselessness of arguing with Mabel, so she determined to make her callalone.

  Nellie felt a little timid as she presented herself at the tiny home thenext afternoon. The girl herself answered her rap, and invited her intothe wee living room. In an easy chair at one side of the fireplacereclined a delicate, sweet-faced woman.

  "'_I thank you, my dear,' said the woman_."]

  "My name is Nellie Ross, and I have noticed you and thought you were astranger here," began Nellie in the winning way that had always won hermany friends, "and so I thought I would call and ask you to join ourSabbath school class. We have such good times, and Mrs. Allen, ourteacher, is so interesting."

  "I would like to go," the girl faltered; "but they are all suchstrangers to me, and"--

  "That will not matter," declared Nellie. "I will come for you and willintroduce you to the rest of the girls."

  "I thank you, my dear," said the woman, before the girl could answeragain. "I am sure Edna will be glad to go. It has been rather a tryingtime for her, I fear, since we came here, although she has nevercomplained, for fear it might worry me.

  "She was always in church and Sabbath school work at home. But my healthfailed, and the physician said a winter here might save my life.

  "My husband could not come with me, for he must work at home to getmoney to pay our expenses, so Edna gave up her school and everything tocome with me. We are compelled to live very cheaply, you see, but I amgetting better, and I think I shall get quite well, if only Edna can becontented here," with a fond glance at her daughter.

  "Of course, I shall be contented mamma," replied Edna.

  "I'm sure she will like the Sabbath school very much," said Nellie,earnestly, "and I will come for her to-morrow."

  She did so, and Edna went with her, although she felt a little shy, butthe warm welcome given her by Mrs. Allen, and the friendliness of thegirls, soon made her feel at home. It was not until the school joined insinging the last song, that she so far forgot herself as to join in thesinging. Then the girls were astonished. She sang alto beautifully.

  "Really," cried one of them as soon as they were dismissed, "you mustjoin our young people's choir, will you? We do need an alto so badly."

  From that time on, Edna had no cause for loneliness, for she was one ofthe girls, and her mother smiled and grew better.

  * * * * *

  You will see the pools of stagnant water frozen through the winter,while the little running streams are bounding along between fringes oficy gems. Why is this? The streams have something else to do than tostand still and be frozen up. Be you like them. Keep your heart warm byfeeling for others, and your powers active by work done in earnest.

  JOHN HALL.

  * * * * *

  A house built on sand is in fair weather just as good as if built on arock. A cobweb is as good as the mightiest chain cable where there is nostrain on it. It is trial that proves one thing weak and another strong.

  BEECHER.

  * * * * *

  Little self-denials, little honesties, little passing words of sympathy,little nameless acts of kindness, little silent victories over favoritetemptations--these are the silent threads of gold which, when woventogether, gleam out so brightly in the pattern of life that Godapproves.

  DEAN FARRAR.

  "_You were not here yesterday_."]

  THE LITTLE SISTERS

  * * * * *

  "You were not here yesterday," said the gentle teacher of the littlevillage school, as she placed her hand kindly on the curly head of oneof her pupils. It was recess time, but the little girl had not gone tofrolic away the ten minutes, she had not even left her seat, but satabsorbed in a seemingly vain attempt to make herself mistress of anexample in long division.

  Her face and neck crimsoned at the remark of her teacher, but lookingup, she seemed somewhat reassured by the kind glance that met her, andanswered:--

  "No, ma'am, I was not, but sister Nelly was."

  "I remember there was a little girl who called herself Nelly Gray, whocame in yesterday, but I did not know she was your sister. But why didyou not come? You seem to love to study very much."

  "It was not because I didn't want to," was the earnest answer, and thenshe paused and the deep flush again tinged her fair brow; "but," shecontinued after a moment of painful embarrassment, "mother can notspare both of us conveniently, and so we are going to take turns. I'mgoing to school one day, and sister the next, and to-night I'm to teachNelly all I have learned to-day, and to-morrow night she will teach meall that she learns while here. It's the only way we can think ofgetting along, and we want to study very much, so that sometime we willbe able to teach school ourselves, and take care of mother, because shehas to work very hard to take care of us."

  "The teacher asked no more questions, but sat down beside her, and in amoment explained the rule over which she was puzzling her young brain,so that the hard example was easily finished.

  "You would better go out and take the air a few moments; you havestudied very hard to-day," said the teacher, as the little girl putaside the slate.

  _"The teacher sat down beside her and explained therule."_]

  "I would rather not,--I might tear my dress,--I will stand by the windowand watch the rest." The dress was nothing but a cheap calico, but itwas neatly made and had never been washed. While looking at it, sheremembered that during the whole previous fortnight, she had never seenher wear but t
hat one dress. "She is a thoughtful little girl," said sheto herself, "and does not want to made her mother any trouble. I wish Ihad more such scholars."

  The next morning Mary was absent, but her sister occupied her seat,There was something so interesting in the two little sisters, the oneeleven, and the other eighteen months younger, agreeing to attend schoolby turns, that the teacher noticed them very closely.

  They were pretty faced children, of delicate forms, the elder with darkeyes and chestnut curls, the other with eyes like the sky of June, herwhite neck covered by a wealth of golden ringlets. The teacher noticedin both, the same close attention to their studies, and as Mary stayedindoors during recess, so did Nelly; and upon speaking to her as she hadto her sister, she received the same answer, "I might tear my dress."

  The reply caused Miss M---- to notice the dress of her sister. She sawat once that it was of the same piece as Mary's, in fact, she becamecertain that it was the same dress. It did not fit quite so nicely onNelly, and was too long for her, and she was evidently ill at ease whenshe noticed her teacher looking at the bright pink flowers that were sothickly set on the white ground.

  The discovery was one that could not but interest the teacher. Thoughshort of means herself, that same night she purchased a dress of thesame material for little Nelly, and made arrangements with the merchantto send it to her in such a way that the donor need never be known.

  Very bright and happy looked Mary Gray on Friday morning, as she enteredthe school at an early hour. She waited only to place her books in neatorder in her desk, ere she approached the teacher, and whispering in avoice that laughed in spite of her efforts to make it low anddeferential.

  "After this week sister Nelly is coming to school every day, and oh, Iam so glad!"

  "That is very good news," replied the teacher kindly. "Nelly is fond ofher books, I see, and I am happy to know that she can have anopportunity to study them every day."

  Then she continued, a little good-natured mischief in her eyes,--"Butcan your mother spare you both conveniently?"

  "Oh, yes, ma'am, yes ma'am, she can now. Something happened that shedidn't expect, and she is as glad to have us come as we are to do so."She hesitated a moment, but her young heart was filled to the brim withjoy, and when a child is happy, it is as natural to tell the cause as itis for a bird to warble when the sun shines. So out of the fullness ofher heart she spoke and told her teacher this little story:--

  She and her sister were the only children of a poor widow, whose healthwas so delicate that it was almost impossible to support herself anddaughters. She was obliged to keep them out of school all winter, asthey had no suitable clothes to wear, but she told them that if theycould earn enough to buy each of them a new dress, by doing odd choresfor the neighbors, they might go in the spring.

  Very earnestly had the little girls improved their stray chances, andvery carefully hoarded the copper coins which usually repaid them. Theyhad nearly saved enough to buy a dress, when Nelly was taken sick, andas the mother had no money beforehand, poor Nelly's money had to be usedfor medicine.

  "Oh, I did feel so bad when school opened and Nelly could not go,because she had no dress," said Mary. "I told mother I wouldn't goeither, but she said I would better, for I could teach sister some, andit would be better than no schooling.

  "I stood it for a fortnight, but Nelly's little face seemed all the timelooking at me on the way to school, and I couldn't be happy a bit, so Ifinally thought of a way by which we could both go. I told mother Iwould come one day, and the next I would lend Nelly my dress and shemight come; that's the way we have done, this week. But last night,don't you think, somebody sent sister a dress just like mine, and nowshe can come too.

  "Oh, if I only knew who it was, I would get down on my knees and thankthem, and so would Nelly. But we don't know, and so we've done all wecould for them,--we've prayed for them,--and Oh, Miss M----, we are allso glad now. Aren't you too?"

  "Indeed I am," was the emphatic answer.

  The following Monday, little Nelly, in the new pink dress, entered theschoolroom with her sister. Her face was as radiant as a rose insunshine, and approaching the teacher's table, she exclaimed:--

  "I am coming to school every day, and oh, I am so glad!"

  The teacher felt as she had never done before, that it is "more blessedto give than to receive." No millionaire, when he saw his name in publicprints, lauded for his thousand dollar charities, was ever so happy asthe poor school-teacher who wore her gloves half a summer longer thanshe ought, and thereby saved enough to buy that little fatherless girl acalico dress.

  _"Nellie entered the schoolroom with her sister."_]

  * * * * *

  A VALUABLE SECRET

  Sarah, I wish you would lend me your thimble. I can never find mine whenI want it."

  "Why can not you find it, Mary?"

  "If you do not choose to lend me yours, I can borrow of somebody else."

  "I am willing to lend it to you, Mary. Here it is."

  "I knew you would let me have it."

  "Why do you always come to me to borrow when you have lost anything,Mary?"

  "Because you never lose your things, and always know where to findthem."

  "How do you suppose I always know where to find my things?"

  "I am sure I cannot tell. If I knew, I might, perhaps, sometimescontrive to find my own."

  "This is the secret. I have a place for everything, and after I havedone using anything, it is my rule to put it away in its proper place."

  "Yes, just as though your life depended upon it."

  "My life does not depend upon it, Mary, but my convenience does verymuch."

  "Well, I never can find time to put my things away."

  "How much more time will it take to put a thing away in its properplace, than it will be to hunt after it, when it is lost?"

  "Well, I'll never borrow of you again, you may depend on it."

  "Why? you are not offended, Mary, I hope!"

  "Oh no, Sarah. But I am ashamed that I have been so careless anddisorderly, and now resolve to do as you do, to have a place foreverything, and everything in its place."

  "Well, Mary, this is a good resolution and will be easily carried out,if you bear in mind that, 'Heaven's first law is order.'"

  * * * * *

  TRUE worth is in _being_, not _seeming_-- In doing each day that goes by

  Some little good--not in the dreaming Of great things to do by-and-by.

  We cannot make bargains for blisses, Nor catch them, like fishes, in nets;

  And sometimes the thing our life misses Helps more than the good that it gets.

  "_What I can't tell mother, is not fitfor me to know_."]

  TELLING MOTHER

  * * * * *

  A group of young girls stood about the door of the schoolroom oneafternoon, whispering together, when a little girl joined them, andasked what they were doing.

  "I am telling the girls a secret, Kate, and we will let you know, if youwill promise not to tell any one as long as you live," was the reply.

  "I won't tell any one but my mother," replied Kate. "I tell hereverything, for she is my best friend."

  "No, not even your mother, no one in the world."

  "Well, then I can't hear it; for what I can't tell mother, is not fitfor me to know."

  After speaking these words, Kate walked away slowly, and perhaps sadly,yet with a quiet conscience, while her companions went on with theirsecret conversation.

  I am sure that if Kate continued to act on that principle, she became avirtuous, useful woman. No child of a Christian mother will be likely totake a sinful course, if Kate's reply is taken for a rule of conduct.

  As soon as a boy listens to conversations at school or on theplayground, which he would fear or blush to repeat to his mother, he isin the way of temptation, and no one can tell where he will stop. Many aman
dying in disgrace, in prison, or on the scaffold, has looked backwith bitter remorse to the time when he first listened to a sinfulcompanion who came between him and a pious mother.

  Girls, if you would be respected and honored in this life and formcharacters for heaven, make Kate's reply your rule:--

  "_What I cannot tell my mother is unfit for me to know."_ No otherperson can have as great an interest in your welfare and prosperity as atrue, Christian mother.

  Every girl should always remember that a Christian mother is her bestearthly friend, from whom no secret should be kept.

  HIGHEST aim and true endeavor; Earnest work, with patient might; Hoping,trusting, singing ever; Battling bravely for the right; Loving God, allmen forgiving; Helping weaker feet to stand,--These will make a lifeworth living, Make it noble, make it grand.

  A STORY OF SCHOOL LIFE

  * * * * *

  "Oh, girls! I shall just die, I know I shall!" exclaimed Belle Burnette,going off into a hysterical fit of laughter, which she vainly pretendedto smother behind an elegant lace edged handkerchief.

  "What is it, you provoking thing! Why don't you tell us, so we can laughtoo?"

  "Well--you--see," she gasped out at last, "we've got a new pupil--thequeerest looking thing you ever saw. I happened to be in madam's roomwhen she came. She came in the stage, and had a mite of an old-fashionedhair trunk, not much bigger than a band-box, and she came into madam'sroom with a funny little basket in her hand, and sat down as if she hadcome to stay forever.