Willie

“ Throwing stones by dozens,
Often worried little girls,
Bullied smaller boys,
Often broke their biggest dolls,
Jumped upon their toys.
If he smelled a smoking tart,
Willie longed to steal it;
If he saw a pulpy peach,
Willie tried to peel it;
Could he reach a new plum-cake,
Greedy Willie picked it,
If he spied a pot of jam,
Dirty Willie licked it.
If he saw a poor old dog,
Wicked Willie whacked it;
If it had a spot of white,
Silly Willy blacked it,
If he saw a sleeping cat,
Horrid Willie kicked it;
If he caught a pretty moth,
Cruel Willie pricked it. ”

“ WILLIE'S LODGER.
Two little boys, named Willie,
Live in the house with me.
One is as good a darling
As ever I wish to see;
His eyes are glad, his smile is sweet,
His voice is kind, his dress is neat,
And he is the boy for me.
This Willie says, "Good morning!"
Happy as any bird;
A merrier laugh, a lighter step,
No mortal ever heard.
"Thank you," he says, and "If you please?"
He will not pout, he will not tease—
Oh! he is the boy for me!
The other Willie, sad to say,
Is very, very bad ”

“ All the country-side knew Wandering Willie. Men who were growing old remembered that when they were rosy children, he used to go and come among them even as he did now. Mothers, standing at their cottage doors watching their little ones at play, often saw Wandering Willie lay his withered hand upon the golden heads and, smiling, bless them as he passed. Then they thought of the kind smile and the touch that used to be laid upon their own heads years ago, and they recalled the same simple words of blessing. ”

“ Nearly all my life it must have lain deep down in my heart, like a seed that, buried in the ground, waits for the coming of the spring; and now, in the spring and sunshine of my young manhood, it had risen up in blossom and in fruit.
'Willie, here comes your father,' said Hildred presently, jumping up and running off to meet him. They liked each other, those two. ”

“ What if Willie had made a stair up it also? But as she turned to see how she was to go down, for she had been carried up blind, she caught sight of the straight staircase between the two boughs, and, with a shriek of delight, up she ran.
"Gently, gently! Don't bring the tree down with your tremendous weight," cried Willie, following her close behind.
At the end of the stairs she sprang upon the bough of the fir, and in a moment more was sitting in the full light of the sunset.
"O Willie! Willie! this is grand! How good, how kind of you! ”

“ And Willie swore a great, great oath,
And he swore by the thorn,
That she was as free o a child that night
As the night that she was born.
'Ye hae gien me the gowk, Annet,
But I'll gie you the scorn;
For there's no a bell in a' the town
Shall ring for you the morn.'
Out and spak then Sweet Willie:
Sae loud's I hear you lie!
There's no a bell in a' the town
But shall ring for Annet and me. ”

“ But—oh—what a beauty! Willie—Willie—look!" and so saying, he drew forth a beautifully made little vessel, about the same size as my "Fair Alice," but even, as I thought, more perfectly finished, and with two masts.
"A schooner-yacht," my cousin continued, triumphantly. "Oh, Willie, I like it a great deal better than even the 'Fair Alice.' Is it yours, George?" he inquired.
"No, sir," answered Groves, quickly; "guess again."
"I don't know any one else, unless it's Willie."
"Near it, but not right; try again, sir; somebody else that's not very far off." ”

“ Perhaps if Willie had guessed, even for a moment, what was passing in her mind, he would have blushed, for Willie was, so people said, a nice young man who had led a respectable life. Such things were no doubt incomprehensible to him. Perhaps if she had spoken the truth, if she had bothered herself to explain, she would have said, “I could not marry you. I could give myself to no man but one who caught my fancy, in whom there was strength and the grace of a fine animal. Beauty, Willie, counts for much ... far more than you guess, living always as you do in the midst of all this savage uproar. ”

“ Poor Willie! may he live long and live happy. When he dies many a tear will fall from eyes that seldom weep, and hearts that know little of the more refined sensations of our nature will heave a sigh. Willie will die, but not his fame will die. In many of those humorous provincial songs, with which Newcastle abounds more than any other town I am acquainted with—the very airs as well as the words of which possess a kind of local nationality—“Blind Willie” is the theme. These songs are the admiration of all who know how to appreciate genuine humour ”

“ WILLIE DROWNED IN YARROW. Down in yon garden sweet and gay Where bonnie grows the lily, I heard a fair maid sighing say "My wish be wi' sweet Willie! "Willie's rare, and Willie's fair, And Willie's wondrous bonny; And Willie hecht to marry me Gin e'er he married ony. "O gentle wind, that bloweth south, From where my Love repaireth, Convey a kiss frae his dear mouth And tell me how he fareth! "O tell sweet Willie to come doon And hear the mavis singing, And see the birds on ilka bush And leaves around them hinging. ”

“ Willie will shed no more tears. He will never feel sad or lonely. He will suffer neither pain, nor hunger, nor weariness. But we, who love him, may weep, as did Jesus when Lazarus lay in the grave; and we shall never forget the sweet child, so full of life and love, who was given us for a little while, and then taken home to glory.
Dear children, who read about Willie, are you prepared to follow him and Charley, where they are gone to dwell with that Saviour who, when he was on earth, took little children in his arms, and blessed them, and said, "of such is the kingdom of heaven?" ”

“ See how the sunshine falls in golden patches on the pond yonder, like what you read about this morning. Willie, I don't want to be Phebe—nothing but little Phebe. I—I want to fly! See that bird going up, up. He will get away beyond the clouds—far above the top of the mountain yonder. I want to be like him, or something, I do not know what; don't you, Willie?"
"Yes; though ambitions are not for one like me; but you will be something besides 'little Phebe,' by and by. I see it in your beaming face and deep dark eyes; while I must always be 'poor little Willie,' nothing else. ”

“ Then she heard a great fluttering as if the leaves were talking to her, and out of them came a soft wind that blew in her face, and felt very sweet and pleasant. She rubbed her eyes again, but could not get the sleep out of them. As last she said to Willie, who stood as still as a stone—but her tongue and her voice and her lips could hardly make the words she wanted them to utter:
"Am I awake? Am I dreaming? It's so nice!"
Willie did not answer her, and the little head sunk on his shoulder again. He drew the corner of the shawl over it, and carried her back to her bed. ”

“ I said if she pleased I did indeed.
'Then, Willie, remember Cuthbert's trust in you, remember your promise, and help Hildred to keep hers.'
There was a short silence.
'You know there is every reason to believe Cuthbert Franklyn to be dead,' said Master Caleb, in a low voice.
'I know it; we cannot tell. It may be so—God alone knows. That question is in His hands not ours. But is Willie set free from the solemn word he gave? Can he marry Hildred now, and yet feel that he is faithful to the trust he took upon him, and true to the friend who left all he cared for, without a fear, in his keeping? ”

“ Well, it was far better so. She was not strong, my darling; she could not have borne a long battle such as a man must fight, so God led her by a short sharp road back to peace.
For a short time we stood together still. Then Hildred turned slowly. 'And now, Willie, just once before I go, I want you to say God bless you.'
As she stood before me looking up at me, I put my hand upon her head, and said, as steadily as I could, 'God bless my dear love for ever, and make her happy.'
The tears were streaming down her face, not bitter tears, but quietly sorrowful. ”

“ She speerd for her lord John:
‘It’s I left him into Kirkland fair,
And hame I fear he’ll never come.’
‘But whaten bluid’s that on your sword, Willie?
Sweet Willie, tell to me;’
‘O it is the bluid o my grey hounds,
They wadna rin for me.’
‘It’s nae the bluid o your hounds, Willie,
Their bluid was never so red;
But it is the bluid o my true-love,
That ye hae slain indeed.’
That fair may wept, that fair may mournd,
That fair may mournd and pin’d:
‘When every lady looks for her love,
I neer need look for mine.’
‘O whaten a death will ye die, Willie? ”

“ I was introduced to her by Willie, Oscar's elder brother, whom I had met in Fleet Street. Willie was then a tall, well-made fellow of thirty or thereabouts with an expressive taking face, lit up with a pair of deep blue laughing eyes. He had any amount of physical vivacity, and told a good story with immense verve, without for a moment getting above the commonplace: to him the Corinthian journalism of The Daily Telegraph was literature. Still he had the surface good nature and good humour of healthy youth and was generally liked. ”

“ I could not speak, but stood before her with my eyes bent on the ground.
'It was for Hildred's sake he doubted,' said my kind master, almost pleadingly.
'I know it,' she answered very softly. 'I know it was; but Hildred will be glad too, some day, that Willie has guarded her even against herself. He must find strength for her also. ”

“ Willie is, like yourselves, a real child, now living. If you were to take a ride on Long Island, as far as Fort Hamilton, you would pass the pleasant country house where he lives; very likely he would be playing near the gate. Every one that passes, says: "Hollo, Willie;" or "There's my boy;" or "Here, Willie, catch this apple." It is always a pleasant word, for every one loves him dearly. ”

“ Oh! Willie, we have missed you;
Welcome, welcome home!
3.
The days were sad without you,
The nights long and drear;
My dreams have been about you;
Oh! welcome, Willie dear!
Last night I wept and watched
By the moonlights cheerless ray;
Till I thought I heard your footstep,
Then I wiped my tears away;
But my heart grew sad again
When I found you had not come;
Oh! Willie, we have missed you;
Welcome, welcome home!
This work was published before January 1, 1928, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago. ”

“ SWEET WILLIE AND FAIR MAISRY. See p. 79. From Buchan's Ballads of the North of Scotland, i. 97.
"Hey love Willie, and how love Willie,
And Willie my love shall be;
They're thinking to sinder our lang love, Willie;
It's mair than man can dee.
"Ye'll mount me quickly on a steed,5
A milk-white steed or gray;
And carry me on to gude greenwood
Before that it be day." ”

“ Little Willie sits by the fire thinking. He lives in this cottage alone with his mother, who is out just now, and I will tell you what Willie is thinking about so earnestly. He is a clever good boy, and is making up his mind that he ought to go out into the world and seek for work, and try to earn his own living, instead of being dependent on his mother, who is very poor. ”

“ When the drawing of the letters was finished, there stood, all round the slate, "Doctor Macmichael's Willie, The Ruins, Priory Leas."
Then out came his knife. But it was a long job, for Willie was not one of those slovenly boys that scamp their work. Such boys are nothing but soft, pulpy creatures, who, when they grow to be men, will be too soft for any of the hard work of the world. ”

“ He dresses like a city fellow with all the frills he can pile on, and he has the manners of a city chap too. But you look out for Willie. There isn't a colder blooded man in the state than Willie Jones. He's quick as lightning on the gun and can hit a bull's-eye with his own eyes shut. ”

“ He shut the door and prayed to his Father in heaven for strength to conquer himself. He remained there alone till he felt he had obtained the victory.
Willie is not the only little boy who has a quick temper, and I tell this story about him for the sake of the dear children who sometimes get angry. I hope, like Willie, they will learn to go to God for help, and then, like his, their countenances will be radiant with gladness; and they, too, can say, "How happy I am!"
"An angry man stirreth up strife, and a furious man aboundeth in transgression." ”

“ He counted to a thousand then half drifted into the land of dreams. A wicked little green imp whispered in his ear. "Conclusive Evidence," whispered it so loudly Willie awoke, then he thought, or tried to think of some plan of revenge on his heartless mother. He could think of none that would not return to himself fourfold, then he reasoned that after all it was not so much his mother's fault as the neighbors for keeping hens that would not stay at home. Perhaps the little green imp came and whispered into his ear again, I don't know, but how else account for Willie's queer actions? ”

“ For if there be a voice in Nature that can speak to its Great Maker, surely God sends many answers back; and hourly some word of His went home with a new thrill of gladness to Willie's listening heart.
[Pg 7]
So do not pity him, though he has fought on all day alone against the storm.
Look at him now, toiling steadily onwards, a dim figure scarcely seen through the thickening snow-wreaths. At each step he sinks deeper in the snow, and all around the moor stretches wild and white under the grey heaven. Here a great broken tree rises against the sky, weird and gloomy ”

“ As Willie's mother was walking alone,
Between the bower and ha,
She thought she heard a bairn's greet
And lady's moan in the sta.
'Gude make ye safe, my ae son Willie,
Gude keep ye safe frae harm;
Ye might hae chosen a lighter foot-boy
Than a women in travilling.'
He hit the table wi his foot,
He kept it wi his knee,
Till silver cups and silver spoons
Into the floor did flee. ”