Life and Literature Part 18

"Where do you think I could find him?"

"Well," she said, with a considering air, "you've got to look for some place where people are sick or hurt, or something like that. I don't know where he is, but he's helping somewhere."

238

A SLEEPING CHILD.

How happy are thy days! How sweet thy repose! How calm thy rest! Thou slumberest upon the earth more soundly than many a miser and worldling upon his bed of down. And the reason is--that thou hast a gracious G.o.d and an easy conscience. A stranger to all care, thou awakest only to resume thy play, or ask for food to satisfy thy hunger.

239

A full-blown rose besprinkled with the purest dew, is not so beautiful as a child blus.h.i.+ng beneath her parents' displeasure, and shedding tears of sorrow for her fault.

240

A torn jacket is soon mended; but hard words bruise the heart of a child.

--_Longfellow._

241

He who does not correct his own child, will later beat his own breast.

242

The future destiny of the child is always the work of the mother.

--_Napoleon._

243

A child's eyes! Those clear wells of undefiled thought! What on earth can be more beautiful! Full of hope, love, and curiosity, they meet your own. In prayer, how earnest! In joy, how sparkling! In sympathy, how tender!

--_Mrs. Norton._

244

These little shoes! How proud she was of these!

Can you forget how, sitting on your knees, She used to prattle volubly, and raise Her tiny feet to win your wondering praise?

--_William Canton._

245

INSCRIPTION ON MY LITTLE SON'S SILVER PLATE.

When thou dost eat from off this plate, I charge thee be thou temperate; Unto thine elders at the board Do thou sweet reverence accord; And, though to dignity inclined, Unto the serving-folk be kind; Be ever mindful of the poor, Nor turn them hungry from the door; And unto G.o.d, for health and food And all that in thy life is good, Give thou thy heart in grat.i.tude.

246

Words of praise are almost as necessary to warm a child into a genial life as acts of kindness and affection. Judicious praise is to children what the sun is to flowers.

--_Bovee._

247

What the child says out of doors, he has learned indoors.

248

LINES ON MY NEW CHILD-SWEETHEART.

I hold it a religious duty To love and wors.h.i.+p children's beauty; They've least the taint of earthly clod, They're freshest from the hand of G.o.d; With heavenly looks they make us sure The heaven that made them must be pure; We love them not in earthly fas.h.i.+on, But with a beatific pa.s.sion.

I chanced to, yesterday, behold A maiden child of beauty's mould; 'Twas near, more sacred was the scene, The palace of our patriot Queen.

The little charmer to my view Was sculpture brought to life anew.

Her eyes had a poetic glow, Her pouting mouth was Cupid's bow: And through her frock I could descry Her neck and shoulders' symmetry.

'Twas obvious from her walk and gait Her limbs were beautifully straight; I stopp'd th' enchantress and was told, Though tall, she was but four years' old.

Her guide so grave an aspect wore I could not ask a question more; But follow'd her. The little one Threw backward ever and anon Her lovely neck, as if to say, "I know you love me, Mister Grey;"

For by its instincts childhood's eye Is shrewd in physiognomy; They well distinguish fawning art From sterling fondness of the heart.

And so she flirted, like a true Good woman, till we bade adieu.

'Twas then I with regret grew wild, Oh, beauteous, interesting child!

Why ask'd I not thy home and name?

My courage fail'd me--more's the shame.

But where abides this jewel rare?

Oh, ye that own her, tell me where!

For sad it makes my heart and sore To think I ne'er may meet her more.

--_Thomas Campbell._

249

INASMUCH.

One day a little girl looking out of the window saw a number of poor men from a nearby jail, working in the hot sun of a July day. They looked tired and hot, and she knew they must be thirsty. She remembered Christ's words, "I was thirsty and ye gave Me drink, was in prison, and ye came unto Me," and the thought came to her, "I can do both." With her mother's permission she took a little bucket of cold water, with a dipper, and gave to each man in turn, refilling the bucket several times. As she went from one to another in her white frock, her sweet smile gave even better cheer than the water. The thanks of the prisoners were very hearty. One asked her, "Little lady, what made you do this?"

After a moment's pause, she replied, "That is what Christ said to do, and--I was sorry myself." He lowered his head and said, "G.o.d bless you, little Christ-child."