Maria J. McIntosh

“ What is it, Clara?" Mrs. Wilmot's eye rested just then on the locket which she wore on her wrist, and this prompted the question—"Clara, did you speak the whole truth to-day when you told me this locket was paid for? Do you owe nothing on it?"
"No, mamma Wilmot; nothing on that, but I owe—" she stopped.
"Not Cecille, Clara," said Mrs. Wilmot; "you could not be so thoughtless—so selfish—as to keep her hard earnings from her for a single day, for any purpose of your own. Speak, my child, and tell me it is not so." ”

“ It is bad enough to have to teach the stupid things, without being obliged to get up at daybreak for them."
"Daybreak, Ellen!" said Mary, moving the window-curtain and letting in a stream of sunshine.
"Well, I don't care what time it is, Mary, it is earlier than I choose to get up, and earlier than I would get up, if it was not for them; and there would be some comfort in it if one thought they would ever learn any thing: but for such a stupid set!"
"Stupid, Ellen!—why Mrs. Maclean and I have just been saying what bright intelligent children they were." ”

“ The morning was cloudless, and the garden looked beautifully, with its leaves and flowers glittering with dew-drops. But I only saw it from my window, for though Harriet and Mary, starting from sleep at the first sound of my voice, sprang eagerly up, and, dressing in haste, waited impatiently for the tap of Florence, which was to summon us to our morning walk; they waited in vain. Florence could not be awoke, or when awake, could not be induced to rise; and breakfast was announced, and we were all seated at table before she made her appearance. ”

“ No, Jessie, those who do right are seldom afraid, for you know the Bible says, 'the righteous are as bold as a lion.' I am very glad, my child, of all that has happened to you to-day. You may have harder trials of your truth than even this before you die, but you will remember this day, and how happy you have felt for telling the truth; and you will remember, too, if all the good things on earth are offered to you as the price of one falsehood, that your old grandmother told you truth is better than all, Jessie,—truth is better than all. ”

“ I pray thee show me what is right to do, and make me love to do it.' As soon as I said 'what is right to do,' it came into my head that it was right for me to do all I could for Alice, if everybody else did ever so much for her; and now, Aunt Kitty, I wish I had a great deal more money, that I might give it all to her—and though I am just as sorry for Alice, I do not feel half so bad about her; for if we are willing to do all we can for her, God, who loves her a great deal more than any of us, will certainly give her back her eyesight. ”

“ My gentle Mary has a strength of character you little dream of, and though never very gay, she will not long remain unreasonably sad; but my poor Ellen,—with a nature so affectionate that she cannot be happy unless she is loved, and a temper so passionate that she will often try the forbearance of her best friends almost beyond endurance,—how much suffering is before her! Do not blame me, if before I go from her, I strive to make Mary's love for her such as her mother's would have been—such as not even her faults shall be able to overcome. ”

“ So you see, my dear Harriet, as the best-natured people in the world sometimes have very wrong feelings, if they are accustomed to do just what their feelings tell them to do, that is, to act from impulse, you can never be sure whether their actions will be good or bad."
"But, Aunt Kitty, when I find out my feeling is a right feeling, I may do just what it tells me to do?"
"No, my love; even when a feeling is a right feeling, it will not be well to do always just what it tells you, for a right feeling may lead to a very wrong action. ”

“ Don't you think he will, Aunt Kitty?"
"God does love her a great deal more than we do, my dear; but He is a great deal wiser than we are, and He may see that it is best for Alice that she should continue blind, though it seems so terrible to us. You must remember, therefore, that Alice may go to the city and come back no better. Should you not feel sorry then that you had given up your books without doing her any good?"
Harriet thought for a moment, and then said, "No, Aunt Kitty, for I should have done what was right, and I could never feel sorry for that, you know." ”

“ Do you not suppose that Cecille, though poor and alone in a strange country with her feeble old grandmother, was happier with her cheerful temper and her trust in the goodness of her kind heavenly Father, than those children who fret at being awoke in the morning, though they are surrounded with every comfort and have the kindest people to attend upon them,—who sit down with dissatisfied faces to a breakfast-table covered with good things because they fancy something which is not there, and who thus go through the whole day complaining of what they have and wishing for what they cannot get? ”

“ Any one who has seen a child in convulsions, will know what had been the matter with little Jem; but Harriet knew nothing about it, and, you may suppose her dismay, when, as she was looking at her little playfellow, a spasm crossed his face, his head was thrown back, his limbs stiffened, and that distressing noise in the throat was again heard. The mother shrieked, and Harriet, rushing to the door, screamed to Margaret, who, with Florence and Mary, was waiting in the road for her, that little Jem was dying. ”

“ Little can be told of Ellen's journey. In ten minutes after leaving Colonel Melville's she found herself on board a steamboat, surrounded by a crowd of strangers. Unaccustomed to such scenes, she was bewildered by the confusion and bustle around her, and clung to Mr. Wallace as if he had been a friend of long years, instead of an acquaintance of a day. But so kind and good was Mr. Wallace, so thoughtful of Ellen's comfort, so considerate of her feelings, and so indulgent to her wishes, that under any circumstances he could not long have seemed a stranger to her. ”

“ THE END. JESSIE GRAHAM: OR, FRIENDS DEAR, BUT TRUTH DEARER. CHAPTER I. SPRING—MRS. GRAHAM.
Spring is here. The sun is shining brightly, and the air is warm, and the breeze is scented with the blossoms of the apple and the pear. The trees whose branches have been bare all winter, except when the snow wrapped them in a white mantle, have now put on a dress of the lightest and liveliest green. The gardens, too, are beginning to look gayly. There is in my garden one bed which is especially bright. This is Harriet's. ”

“ Many a time I have said to myself, when I got up in the morning—I will be good and kind to everybody to-day, and I will not say a cross word, or give an angry look, let them serve me ever so badly, but when people tease and worry me I forget it all. And so now, Uncle Villars, since I cannot help it, I mean to try not to care about it at all—not to love anybody except Mary, who loves me so much that I never get angry with her now, and you who were always so kind to me. ”

“ Just before we separated for the night, he drew her to him, and seating her on his knee, said, "Florence, did you ever read the fairy story of the three wishes?"
"Yes, papa."
"Well, I will be your good fairy. Make three wishes, and they shall be granted."
Florence laughed gayly.
"Why, papa! fairies are always women."
"Well, I will be a magician; they are men, are they not?"
"Yes."
"Now make your wishes."
"What shall I wish for, mamma?"
"Stop," said Mr. Arnott, "they must be your own wishes; nobody must prompt them, or the spell is broken." ”

“ I am so happy that I can hardly write, or do any thing but tell everybody near me how happy I am; or when there is nobody near me, sit down and think of you and your good aunt, and Dr. Franks, and Susan and Lucy, and everybody that lives at home. Oh, Harriet, we are coming there—coming home next week—dear home. It is the middle of April now, and so many flowers will be opening, and the peach-trees and the apple-trees will be in bloom soon, and they will look so beautiful. ”

“ You were the occasion of very bitter suffering to me yesterday evening, Ellen; and yet, now that God in His mercy has restored my child, I can be thankful even for this lesson to you, if it influence you as I hope and believe it will—if you learn from it to dread anger as the beginning of murder. Human passion, Ellen, is like a raging sea, to which only the infinite God can say, 'hitherto shalt thou go, and no farther, and here shall thy waves be stayed.'"
Ellen remained quite still. Tears slowly trickled down her cheeks ”

“ Melville, I have not told you all the reasons which make me prefer my plan to yours—fair as yours seems. Poor Ellen's ungoverned temper must be subdued; but before Mrs. Brown could reduce her into a proper behaved boarding-school Miss, she must inflict and Ellen endure a course of discipline which would break Mary's heart to witness. Now I would give Ellen a discipline which she cannot escape from—which she will feel it is vain to fret against—which will be steady and unyielding, but never cruel and tyrannical,—the discipline which was God's own appointment for man—labor and privation. ”

“ I spent my morning very agreeably with Madame L'Estrange, yet I listened to Mrs. Daly's clock, which stood on the mantelpiece, and watched its hands with as much impatience as if I had been weary and longed to get away. The truth was, I was impatient for Cecille's coming, which I had determined to await, that I might have the pleasure of seeing her happy looks when her wishes were accomplished and the money was actually in her hands. Did you ever observe how slowly the hands of a clock appear to move when they are watched? ”

“ O'Donnel, "Now, my good woman, be comforted; your child is better, and will, I hope, with care, soon be well."
The poor mother had uttered no sound for many hours, but now her long-smothered feelings burst out. With a wild cry she started up, and, holding out her arms, would have caught her child to her bosom; but the doctor, pushing her back into her seat, whispered, "Hush, hush—he is sensible now, and you may frighten him into another fit."
She hushed her cry in a moment, and remained quiet in her chair; but she burst into tears and wept piteously. ”

“ Mary, who really loved Miss Bennett, colored up, and Mrs. Graham said to her, "Do not be vexed, my little lady, for I mean no offence. Miss Mary Mackay, who is to be a young lady, and must talk to ladies and gentlemen, cannot do without books and Miss Bennett to explain them. And I do not mean to say that book-learning hurts anybody, but only that Jessie, and poor little folks like Jessie, can do without it, and yet that they must not call themselves without schooling; for what schooling they really want, God takes care that they may have." ”

“ She carried a portfolio under her arm, and walked with a quick, buoyant step, which showed that she was both well and cheerful.
"Who is that?" said I to Grace.
"Cecille L'Estrange, ma'am," she replied.
"And is she coming to take lessons with you?"
"No, ma'am," she said, smiling, "she is coming to teach us."
"To teach you!" I exclaimed, with surprise, "why, she is a child, like yourselves. What can she teach you?"
"Oh! a great deal more than we have time to learn," said Clara, while Grace added,
"She is two years older than Clara and I,—she is thirteen." ”

“ These are Aunt Kitty's lessons,—they are lessons for the heart, and such as I hope all my readers will be pleased to learn.
The walk which these little girls and I best love is to a small house, about half a mile from mine. Small as it is, it looks so pleasantly with its white walls, (it is freshly whitewashed every spring,) and green shutters, its neat paling and pretty flower-garden, peeping from the midst of green trees, that any one might be contented to live there. In this house lives a widow, with one only child, a daughter, a year older than my niece Harriet. ”

“ As the weather was warm, we had no lights in the parlor, and the hall light just let us see where objects stood, but was not bright enough to show us very plainly what they were.
"Aunt Kitty," said Harriet, "can Alice see no more plainly than we do now, when there is no light in the room?"
"Not so plainly, my love, for we can see a little. She can see no more than you can of a dark night, when you wake up at midnight, with your windows shut and your curtains down." ”

“ Graham come to know so much about them then, Aunt Kitty, for I do not think she reads many books?"
"Mrs. Graham, my dear Mary, has been accustomed to associate with people much better educated than herself, and as she is a very observing and thoughtful person, she has lost no opportunity of learning. And now, Mary, you see that book-learning is of more use than you ever before thought it, for the person who has it, may help to open the eyes of many who have it not, to read what God has written for us all in the heavens and the earth." ”