FAMILIAR

TALES

FOR

CHILDREN.
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BY MRS. SARAH L. GRIFFIN.

See Tale Thirteen ·

MACON:
BENJAMIN F. GRIFFIN.

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ltAllVAllD COLLEGE LllSUll'f
GIFT Of
~DWAllD l'EllCIVM MUllTC

PREFACE.

•A'r tl, Ult

is, perhaps, no class of .writing ·
more important than that which is intended
for the juvenile ~tender. rvh.ef,t~i~ is formed, in a great degree, by . "the books presented to us in cn.rly youth . It is, therefore, '. highly important that we put into .
.the hands of our children works inculcating moral sentiments, as well as facts in
physical Jmowle~gc. It is to be feared
that too much . attention is paid to cuitivil/
ting the intellectual, without regard ·to the .
moral and religious being. The constant
cry is-foe~, fo.cts-lmowle<lge, knowledge-.
i.e., instruction in the ways and means of accumulating' wealth, or the fabulous history
of remote' times, studied in a language selTHERE

EtrTDZD according to Act of ~ngress, in the year 180,
Lim Ecn.n. Trustee for S. L. G:a111"11i.
ill the Clerk'• Oflice of the District Court of Georgia •.

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PREFACE.

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dom remembered. Children, as well as
adults, tire of constant study ; and works
intended for recreation, should be so tem.~
pered, that the heart will find food and in- ·
struction. And the language, as well as the :1}
!
ideas, should be sufficiently plain to be easily
comprehended by them ; for, 'notw~thstandi~
j,
the authority of Sir W. ·scott, it c~n ha!\Ky
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be supposed that children, who are just
learning the meaning of words, can be either
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interested or benefited by
tale or an es•
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say clothed in language adapted to the
. ...
capacity of adults.
. Moral tales have a 'gl-eat effe~t, -·~p~m
the feelings of youth. Many of those
contained in this little book, were written
expressly for my own little :flock ; and I
can trulr:_ say, tlmt the lessons here incul~
cated have gone deeper, and had more abi;.
ding effects in eradicating faults, and check~·
ing error, than any punishment which could
have been devised. The highten,ed color,
the downcast eye, the heav!ng bosom, and
trickling tear have home wi~ess that t}t~.
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PREFACE ..

lessons were felt ; and the voluntary amendment, and after reference have shewn that
they were not soon forgotten .
With the sincere desire that the rising generation may ·be in some degree benefited,
by labors undertaken for those dearer than
life, I am induced to present this little work
to the public. May the blessing of God
attend the lessons it contains.

S. L. GRIFFIN.
MAcoN, AuG.

a,

1841..

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CONTENTS.

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TALE
TALE
·T ALE
TALE
TALE
'TALE
TALE
TALE

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1.-The Bird's Nest,
2.-The Bird's Nest-Continued,
3.-Presence of Mind,
4.-Kindness, 5.-More about Birds,
6.-Snakes,
7.-The Bad and Good Day,
8.-ldleness,

9.-The Death Bed,
10.-Carelessness, 'TALE 11.-Diligence. - ~
'TALE 12.-Anger, TALE 13.-Sun and Moon,
TALE 14.-Clouds, TALE 15.-Temper,
'TALE ' 16.-Candor, 'TALE

'TA.LE

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16
19
23

28
32
35
43

48
54
57

60
66
70
74

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CONTENTS.

'T.ALE 18.-Impati~uce,
'T.ALE
TALE

TALE
TALE
TALE
TALE
TALE
TALE

TALE
TALE

83

19.-The Reward of Piety,
89
20.-Selfishness,
- 94
21.-The Holiday,
98
22.-Thc Priie,
- 103
23.-The Fmits of Infidelity,
108
24.-The School Composition, 127
25.-Brotherly Kindness,
135
26.-Praying with the Heart,
140
27.-The Pride of Wealth,
- 145
28.-Filial Piety,
154

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F AM:ILIAR TALES.

TALE L
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THE

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BIRD S NEST.

" SARAH; come here and see what I have
found ! put down your sewing, i'.lnd .come,.'' .
said Alqltf& to his sister, one· .day. Sarah
dropped'.~:fi~f work, and ran ·wtfh her . brother,
and he took her to a pear tree in the garden,
and told her to look up ; she did so, and saw
a bird's nest ; Alonzo wanted to climb the
tree and get it ; but Sarah said, " No, mother .·
told me abcut ' birds' nests the other day, and ·
I will bring my work, and sit down and tell
you, if you will get some seats.
So Alonzo ran and brought two little stools
and they sat down. Alonzo Was very fond
. of learning any new thing, and he would ask
a great many questions, till he thought he
knew all about it, and then he '\\futild sit and
think j and sometimes his ideas were very .
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FAMILIAR TALES

~Oll.

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15

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good, and his remarks quite just. " Well sis~
ter, " he said, " now tell me what bird made
· this nest? " " I don't know enough to tell
you that, brother, but perhaps we shall . see
her soon. l\Iother told me, that some birds
made their nests with sticks and hay, and
then put hair, or cotton, or anything rnft that
they could find, into them, and smoothed the
inside neatly, so that the young birds should
be warm, and not feel any roughness. Mother said too, that birds build where they think
they will be-Safe, and where the nest will not
be blown down : vou fee, this is in the fork
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of the tree, where there arc branches on three
sides of it, and the leaves overhead, will keep
out almost all the rain. "
" 0, Sarah, see there is the bird ; it is a
mocking bird, and ~v;e shall hear it sing ! ''
cried Alonzo.
"Yes, when the father comes home, he
will sing a sweet song to his wife, as she sits
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on the eggs, or nestles the young birds under
her wing for warmth, " said Sarah.
"Will the father, or the mother, teach the
little ones to sing 'J ",.said Alonzo.
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" The father. The mother only . chirps a ·
few notes herself, which they_understand, as

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we do what our mother snys to us ; but the
father SillD'S the· beautiful notes we henr SO often. Botl1 the old birds unite in teaching
them to hop and to fly, but the mother does
the most of that. You know mothe1·s nurse
children more than fathers, and I suppose it
is the same with birds. But the sun comes
here now, and I have finished my sewing, so
we will go into the house, and Mk mother about some other kin<ls of birds, and their
nes.ts. " They went in, .but their mother was
.busy, :and could not talk to them ; but she
.gave them a book about birds, that they might
·see the pictures of different kinds of nests, and
:told them she would talk about them some
()ther time,

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FAMII.IAR TAL£g
FOR CHIJ, DRBN.

" Yes mother, the Bible says so, but I never thought of the use of birds before : I knew
they were pretty, and sang sweetly, but had
forgotten to think of their use. But, mother,
tell me of other birds, which do not build
near man. "
" Well, partridges hide their nests nnder
bushes, on the ground, and, if a man approaches, each one will run a different wuy to escape, and they will put their heads under a
leaf, and think they are hidden : when they
nre larger, they rise up _a nd ¢en dart off in a
straight line, as swift as thought. They eat
worms and other vermin, and are killed for
food. Some birds build as far from man as
possible : eagles, for instance, seek some high
rock, and if men_intrude upon their eyrie, or
n~st, they leave it, for they will not bear men
near them'. In some parts of Africa, where
there are mahy monkeys, who are very fond
of bird's eggs, and will' devour all they can
reach, there is a bird which builds a nest in
such a way, as to display the instinct with
which they are endowed, in a truly wonderful manner : man himself could hardly do
better. They select a tree with long, alender
limbs, which will not bear the monkeys, and

TALE I I.
THE Bmn's NEST -

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Continued.

"Now, mother, " said Sarah, "please telt
us about the birds again ! " " Yes, " said A~
lonzo, " mother, do birds ever build any oth·
er kinds of nests ? 1'
" Yes dear, '1 said Mrs. B, " each kind o(
bird builds a nest in it's own fashion, and situation : you know,· situation means place. 1
told you, that God had givei1 reason to mnnf
and to inferior creatures, instinct, which gov~
ems them : now, some birds build their nests
near man, for thefr instinct teaches them that
men are their friends. " .
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" Mother, why should men be friendly to>
birds?- do not they eat.their fruit anq corn?"
said Alonzo.
" They eat a little, it is true, but they pay
for it by their sweet music, and besides, they
devour a great many troublesome worms and
insects, and so preserve our gmdens from total destruction. Many birds eat flies, and you
know that they are very troublesome : you
know God made e'Very Jiving thing for man,
for his use. "
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'FOR. CHILDREN. .

FAMILlAR TALE.!<

saving her de1fr Uttlc sister's life, that she
could not control her agitation. Her mother
kissed and praised. her, and then they knelt
down and thanked God for his great mercy.
Sarah never forgot that hour, but became remarkable for firmness and presence of mind
in time of danger, in her after life.

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TALE IV.
'KI'NDN'ESS.

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"Sarah, I want you to be very kind .to
Helen to-day, and watch over her all the
lime, as she is not well," said Mrs. B.
·" w·h:y, mother, must I be kinder on that
·nccount:?'' said Sarah, "I always wish to
be kind to her,, I ·am sure."
" So you are, my dear, but I speak to you
to-day:, because she may be fretful, and try
your patien~ ; if you are on your guard,
nnd ·know that it is sickness which makes
her cross, you will pity her, and not' feel
.angry or om of patience with her. You
must not go to the plum-tree to-day, for she
will 'want to go with you, and the plums
will make her worse. I think it is plums
which have hurt her."
"' Well, mother, I will try to do rightly
by her, I should be so sorry to have her .
die, I do love her very much."
" If you were to be unkind to her ~o-day,
and she should die, you would have cause
for sorrow all your life. I once knew a Htgirl named Eliza ; she had a sister 18:J1e,

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. FAMILIAR. TALES

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and they loved each other very much. Jane
was a very sweet tempered child, und never
seemed to be angry at any thing. l'iow,
Eliza was generally good, but alwa~s wanted
her own way; Jane generally yielded, rn
they did not quarrel. One day their mother
gave each of them a new book, and told
them each to see how- long.,and how rncc
they would keep them. They were very
much pleased, and promised to take grent
care of their presents. Jane put hers into
her trunk, und i1sed to read it carefully and
. then replace it safely when she .went to play.
.;Eliza kept hers by her in the sitting room,
~and read it quickly through, them she threw
it on a table and left it.
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" One day it dropped from the table and
got trodden upon, and nearly ruined. Eliza was sorry, but thought she would get
Jane to change with her, and say nothing
'about the damage: but when she proposed
it, she was surprised by Jane's saying 'Why
sister Eliza, how can you ask me, when you
'know your book is almost spoiled P Eliza
was angry at the reproach, for she felt that
she deserved it, and she mid, ' Well, if you
net change, you will be sorry, I tell you.'

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' Indeed, I cannot,' said Jane, 'for mother·
wished us to keep our books nice, and mine
is ns nice as ever.' Eliza was very angry,
and left her sister with her heart filled with
bnd thoughts. She had never yet done any
thing really wicked, but now she allowed
evil wishes to take place in her heait. She
took her spoiled book nnd placed it in he~·
sister's trunk, and took Jane's nice one wlrich
she carried to her room ; tho books were exnctly alike at first, and she hoped not to be
discovered, for she knew Jane would not tell • .
of her fault, unless closely questioned. At
dinner time she saw that J:me bud been crying, nnd that her mother looked displeased,
nnd she felt very nneasy; after dinner she
wished to replace the books, but her mother
called them to walk with her. They walked some distance, but none of them seemed
very happy. They had nearly reached home
again, when a bull came nmning from a
lane, jnst as they were passing. He ran
upon poor Jane, knocking her down, .and
trampling upon her. Eliza screamed; ·but
her mother shut her parasol, and then opening it suddenly, full in the face of the an-

FAMILIAR 'l'ALES.

ima~

alarmed him in his tum, and he made
a hasty retreat by the road he had come.
Mrs. Ellis took Jane in her arms, but her
eyes were shut and she could not speak.
At last they reached home : Jane was laid
on a bed, and when she opened her eyes,
she said, 'Oh ! Eliza, I am sorry for you.
Oh! mother, kiss me! kiss me sister!' and
died. Eliza was almost distracted; she said
'Oh! mother, Jane is happy, but I can never be happy again. I have been so wicked! and she forgave me too ! how could I
net so wickedly by her! there never was so
kind a sister ! my book wns spoiled, and I
took hers and put mine in its place ! what
shall i do? how wicked I have been !' Her
her about
mother talked very seriously
her sin - told her that . she had caused her
to express displeasure towards Jane, who had
borne it in silence, though apparently very
much grieved, and then sent her to her room
to . pray for God's. mercy and forgtveness.
Jane was buried, and from that day, Eliza ·
llever deviated from the right way; always
asking herself in regard to her conduct to
others, 'should I like it myself?' She nev. er spoke of Jane without tea.rs-'- not for her

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sister, but for her own i::ins; and when she
. had children of her own, she told them this
history, that they might avoid the same .

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faults."
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" O, mother/' said Sarah, "I will try to
avoid them; I know I am sometimes wicked in my mind and selfish, but I will try
to remember our Savior's rule, ' D<> unto
others as yon would they should do unto
you.' Se~ sister is asleep in my lap !.''

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l\lORE ABOGT BIRDS.

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I'Olt CHILDREN.

FAMILIAR TALE£

TALE V.

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"Come Sarah, your sewing is ready, what
are you doing 'J" said Mrs. B."
"O, mother, I have been watching the
birds. Do you know that · the bird that
built her uest fo the rose bush, hus four
young ones, and they are all here ; the old
bircl flies awnv, nnd then the little ones all
open their mo'uths so wide, and they hold
them open so . long, I should think they
would be tired. '..At . last the mother comes
back with some.t hing in her bill, and she
puts some of it in one of their mouths and
some in another, and files off a.gain for more.
Will she feed them all day long, mother,
or do they .have breakfast, dinner, and supper, as we do?"
"I can 't "say, my child, but she continues
till they are satisfied, and then gets her own
food ; but I expect they keep her busy about
nll the time."
How do they sleep, mother, I should not
think there was room in this little ·nest 1"

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"The little ones nestle uown close to.
gether, and the old one spreads her wings
over them to keep them warm. They do
not require much room, for their bodies are
very small, and their feathers can be laid
close to their sides. In a few days they
will be able to hop out of the nest, upon
the bushes, and then they will try to fly;
nnd when they can fly quite well they wlll
leave the nest, nnd provide for themselves,
:md soon build nests for themselves."
" Mother, are birds ever naughty?"
" They hn.ve not souls like us, and there,
fore cannot sin in the same sense, for they
c:umot know that they offend God. Ilut
birds appear to hnvc difforcnt tempers, und
sometimes they will fight very fiercely, and
seem so foll of rage as not to heed their
hurts : indeed, sometimes birds are trained
to fight until they kill each other; but this
is done by cmel men,
" There was once a nest under my win.
dow, and I used to watch the birds a great
deal , for I was always fond of observing
whatever came under my eye. At .first, I
could not tell one of the little ones from the
other; h11t I soon observed differences, and

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FAMILIAR TALES

gave them names, and they seemed quite familiar to me. Two of them were males,
and two females. One of the females was ,
gentle, and I called her Ellen ; the other
was such a vixen, that I gave her the name
Of Xantippe, after the ancient scold, Socrates' ,:,:
wife. I will tell you about her another time.
The two males appeared kind, and I called ·'
them GeorO'e and Frank.
When they were first hatched, Xantippe .
wanted all the food her mother brought, ,,
and \Votlld tread upon her sister and broth- .: '.
ers to get at it ; bnt the mother was very ··t:r
particular to feed all alike, and \vhen Xan ... -1~
tippe was very bad would peck her sharply to make her good. When they began to ~t
hop about, if Ellen found a worm, Xantippe f
would flutter and try in eve1y way to get IJ
it for herself, and if she d~d not get it; she;~.".•..
would c1y 'peep, peep,' m such a cross , .
tone that I wanted to scold her. I was a :..
child then, and knew no better; now I know ~i
that God has taught the birds and beasts ·
every thing proper for them to know, and
that they 9an govern themselves. George
and F'rank took Ellen under their care, and :•.
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would hop away from Xantipp,,

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her from them, till, when they began to fly,
they separated from her entirely, and she
soon had the roost to herself, and I did not
see any more of her. The others stayed.
near the house a long time, and used to
make me very happy by their singing.

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FAMILIAR 'TAL&i<

TALE

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FOlt ('ll!l . lll:E'.\.

~hnll h~·ui 3c thy hcatl. nnd _thou i-hnlt brni:-;1_•
hi:; h£>CI :' mid it is so, .~kn lwn' an an- nthr to serpents, :mrl kill them whcnl'\Tr
tip< .
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thei; find them, nnd thPy grnC'rn y C':n-e mhnhi trd places; nnd if mnn intrude:=< upon
them. rcYeugc themseh·l's, by bitini,r him."
'' Mother, tell me about the temptntion ;
I ha'l'"l' rrad it, bnt I like to hear yon tdl
it. nlHI rxplain it to me.''
"Yon know, my dear, that <>od mncle tlw
F.nrth. SPa, and Sky. ancl all other things,
in s-ix days, and rested on the :seventh vou know he made mnu in. his own _imng-r,

SNAICES.

"Mother, Henry says there is a -snnke in
the brnnch, and thnt it has lieen in the lot.
Will it kill us if it bites us?"
"I do not know whnt kind of a snake it
is, my dear -- did Henry tell you'!''
"Ycs l\In'am, he said it was n morcasin
snake; and he sn.id it would kill us: but
could not we get aw:ly ?"
"I never was in d:mgcr from one myself, but some ho.ve escnpcd them by nmning, nnd some have killed them with a
stick. It is- sn.id, if you strike ouc on tho
tail with n stick, he cannot hurt you, but it
is best to keep nw11y from the plnces where
they arc.''
" \Vhat do snakes cat, mother'!''
"They eat frogs, tonds, lizards nnd mice.
They nre venomous cre:1tnrcs ; you know
Satan is mlloo the Old Sr.rpcur, nnd that
he tcmptP..<l Eve, 1md that God said to him
' Upon thy belly thou shalt go, nnd tht>re
1>l111JI he ('lltnity between thl>e and mnn: he

~nrl that he gnye him nil thm~ for l11s m<' ;
hut ~r nnc trrr l·e forlcn '. \r him to cal thr fruit.

&Will!!· in tlw duy he ate tlw frnit thPmi.' ho
Jih~u lil :<lll't'lY dic.
:\ow the ~rq:ent to!d
F,\·e 1hat she shon ld not die, but thnt she would
know good from eYil , if she nlc; 1;he did ro,
nnd Adnm nte nlso: whf'n they hnd done thi~.
they kucw thnt thry hnd done e\·i.t : ™:fort'
thili, thr.y only km•w to do the will nt the ·
Lord, without 1111<'stion, which W:t~ g-1xid,
hllt this disolwdi1•11c1• wn~ tlu•ir tir.o;t sin, w
thnt it made tlwm know ~i11. or evil, and
sad knowledge it wM for man truly. Whcu

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FAMILIAR TALES

God came to speak to them, .as formerly,
they tried to hide from him ; but no one
can hide from God. They tried to blame
the Serpent, but they knew they should not
have listened to him. God then cursed the
Serpent for what he had done. He alw told
the woman that she should know pain and
suffering-and the man that the earth should
not yield him fruit without toil and labor,
which is the reason men have to work in
the fields so much. He said to him 'dust
thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.'
And as man might agai n disoLey and eat
of the tree of life, God turned them out of
their pleasant home in Eden, and they lived ··by 18.bor, and after Eve had brought forth
children, they died, as God had said, and
their bodies returned to dust; but the breath
of life to God who gave it."

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TALE VII .
THE BAD AND GOOD DAY.
SARAH felt very lazy one day, and when
her mother gave her some sewing, she did
not work diligently, but stopped every few
minutes, till at last her mother said,
" Sarah, I must set you a task, and if
you do not finish it, you cannot ride this
evening-." :Mrs. B. used to indulge Sarah
\vith ; ride on ho~'Seback every evening,
before she rode herself.
Sarah was very fond of riding, but this
day she felt 50 \'ery lazy, that, cren at the
risk of losing- hel' ridr , Fhe would drop her
work for every trifle, nnd not come bnck
for some time, when she got away from it.
This was very wrong, for, if she had been
diligent, she could have finished all in two
hours, as her mother did not wish to confine her to work too Closely ; but no, she
wanted to play, and she did not try to bend
her mii1d to work ; she thought she should
finish in season if she did play some: but
alas ! the work progressed so slowly, thnt
at last she could not bear to look at it.

11 .9 , •.

2.4

· A~t

. . -,
•

36

l<'AMILIAR 'l'ALE!'l

After dinner she thought she would swing
little; and then sew ; while still swinging
she saw Alonzo getting some plums from .iii
the plum·tree, and ran to get some also j
then she spied an ant-hill, and remember·
ing that her mother had told her many cu·
rious things about their cells, she watched.
them some time. At last she beard her father's voice. She ran into the house. Her
work was not done, and she had lost her
ride. She burst into tears, but Mrs. B. took
no notice of it, except to bid her remember ;
all she hnd told her in the forenoon, and
then left her.
Sarah sat down. She recollected that her
~other to!d her' how hard it would be to
take hold of her work after playing, and
that she had told her stories of children
who had acted just as she had done that T
day. She reme1nbered that she had ~aid; .f
"I do n't do so mother, I know." She was '. '
very much ashamed, but formed a resolution to work fi.rst and play afterwards for
the fnture. She finished her work neatly,
and when her mother returned, showed it
to her with a smiling face, and said, " I ·L
hope I shall not be so bad to-morrow, moth: },

11

37

}"OR CHILDREN .

er." Her mother saw that she had made
good use of her lesson, so she kissed her
and said " She hoped she would not be so
so naughty in fut.ure, as all wrong conduct·
brought sorrow with it."
"Now, Jane, I have other work to attend,
but I will tell you about Sarah's to-morrow
after dinner."
"Now, mother, I will get · my work and
sit by you, if you will tell me about Sarah's tomorrow," said Jane. But her mother was busy just then, and told .h er tci wait
awhile; so ,she took her work and sat down
and waited patiently till her mother was
rendy to talk with her. The time appeared
very long to her, but it was just half an
hour when her mother put down her pen, ·
folded, sealed, directed her letter, and sent
it to the post office ; and then, .taking her
sewing, told Jane that she should be rewarded by hearing the rest of the story· about
Sarah. So she began:
" The next morning when Sarah woke,
she first prayed God to help her be very
good ; then she dressed herself quietly, that
if her mother slept she might not disturb
her. Just as she had finished dressing, she
3

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•
38

FA:MILIAR TALES

heard her little sister, who slept in a crib

by her mother's bed, saying 'papa,' so she
went into the room, treading very lightly,
.and finding her parents asleep, took Helen ·

carefully out of her crib, and carried her
irito the sitting~room, washed her t1icely, as
she' had seen her mother do, and dressed
her. Then she took her hand and walked
in the garden with her, and Helen was very .
happy, and they walked and talke!l till they
heard their father's voice. He had. risen to
breakfast, so they ran into the house. Break- 1
r
fast was ready, and when they: had kissed
i
•
their parents; they sat down to the table,
feeling very happy. Her~mother told her
she had slept soundly;. and felt ~tter for it.
Mrs. B. had been sick for some time; she was
still very weak, and rqeuired sleep, which wns
the reason she did not rise much' before
breakfast. When · they rose from the table
Mr. md Mrs. R walked awhile in the gar- :'·
den. Sarah put by such things as were to
be locked up,. and took the key to her moth- · '
er ; then she and Helen walked by their par- ·
ents, andjwere very happy. After about half ·.' I
an hour, Mr. . B. said he must go to the
store: so he led MIS. B. int.O the house: and

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FOR. CHILDREN.

she sat down on her couch with her books
and work on a table near her, and a.,pillow
011 one end of the couch, that she tni2'ht
rest when she was tired. Sarah asked fot
some work, and her mother told her she
would get some ready; so Sarah t.ook Helen
into another room and played school with
her, till her mother told her the work was
prepared. Helen wanted some sewing too,.
so Mrs. B. gave her a needle and . thread1
and some calico, and she sat down as busy
as a bee. Sarah 'took her work and did not ·.
even wish · to leave it· for
time.-·
When . Sarah had .worked diligently an hour
' and a half, l\frs. B. told her to take Helen
into their play-house, and piny with her, as she
wished to lie down and rest.
"Sarah was happy,' as every body is when
they know they are good; so .she rim away :
with Helen and they had a grand frolic, for
their plarhouse was separate from the dwellt
ing, and they could make as much noise as ;. ~:. ,
they pleased without disturbing any one, and . ,. ·'
you know you like to make a noise too, when
you play."
"Yes, indeed," said Jarte, "it does not
seem like playing if I have to be still, but

some

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FAJIULJAR TALES

40

FOR CHILDREN.

1 m~st not be noisy in the house."

hat, &c. were on, her father was ready and
the horses saddled.
"You may be sure she was. very happy
as she rode off with her father, for he was
very kind to her, and pointed out the pretty
:flowers which they passed. They saw a
flock of goats who were feeding n.mong some
bushes bv the road side. Sarah had never
· seen goat~ before, and was delighted with the
kids, and bleated like them, and they answered her ; her father laughed and did not st.Op
her till they came near some houses, wheii' •·
he told her he thought she had played goat
long enough, and now had better play young
lady. They stopped at one of the houses
for a glass of water. The woman .looked
surprised to see so small a child riding, and
asked her if she was not afraid. Sarah said,
' No ma'an1, for father would not let me. ride ·
any but a gentle horse.' The lady smiled,
and Mr. B. told Sarah that they had come a
mile and a half, and that by the time they
reached home her mother would be ready.
So they rode home and the air was very
pleasant. When they arrived, Sarah's foot
was asleep, but she laughed at it, and it soon
passed off Mrs. B. kissecl her, and told her

I 1mow
" Sarah ]mew the same," sa1'd Mrs. B. ·
"but in the play-house they could do as
they pleased, If they were good natured, but
they were not allowed to scold. Sarah was
80 much engaged in her play that sh~ was
rised when she was called to dinner.
~;;. B. had informed her father of her diligence, and he kin~ly promised to come home
that cvenin(J' earlier than usual that she
might ride \~ith him ; this was a great treat
to Sarah as she usually rode _alone, and
could not go fa~ for fear of accident:. ·
"After dinner the prospect of her ride filled her mind, and she felt like jumping about
instead of sitting down to her books; but she
remembered that her ride would be happier
if her lesson was learned, so she sat down
and bending her thoughts on her book, soon
had the satisfaction of feeling that her duty
was done, and she free for enjoying the
reward. She washed her face, neck, hands
and feet; combed her hair, and braiding it
nicely, tied the ends of the braid with some
ribaud which her mother gave her for the
purpose, and by the time her armlets, cape,

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FOR CHILDREN.

:FAMILIAR TALES

I

to see that Mary had supper ready in season, and that she gave_ Helen milk enough
before she put her to bed.
. " Sarah said that she wonld, and when
her mother set out she went into the house,
took off her street d1·ess and put on an apron,
and attended to :Mary's doing the work.
When her mother came hon:ie, she found
Helen sound asleep, and ·an things ready for
supper. When Sarah went to bed that night,
she thanked God for helping her to be good,
nnd prayed him to look alw~ys after her
ways nnci cruide her in the right path,
'
t:1
"'Now
Jane/
said l\1rs. B. 'you may put
by your work and play till tea time.'
"'Thank you mother, for your sweet storj, and ·I hope I shall be a comfort to. you
as Sarah was to her mother that day'.' So
Jane kissed her mother and ran to play."

TALE VIII.
IDLENESS;

":Mother," said Mary; "I do not not want
to go to school to-day, do let me stay at home,
I do ri't have any time to play.· I wish I
could never have to go to school again.''
" Well, ]\fal)';" said :Mrs: K. "you may do
as you like, and I will not send you to school
again, until you ask to go. But, you must
not have a book, or any sewing at ail,
until you are convinced. that you would be
happier to work some, study some; and play
some."
Mary thanked her mother, and told her it
would be a long time before she should be
tired of play. She sat down and tried to
decide what to play first ; her mother did not
say any thing to her, but sat down to some
frocks which she was mending, before giving .
to some poor children. Mary had been in
the habit of helping her mother in her works
of charity, but to-day she was only to play,
so she turned away, and taking out her cups
and saucers, asked her mother to give her tea

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43

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44

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FAMILIAR TALES

and sng-ar ns she generally did ; but Mrs. K.
~ '
said she gave her assistance in her plays
when they were properly timed, and not when
her duties were neglected for them. The
mention of duties caused a cold feeling to
pass over Mary's heart, and to drive ft off
she ran into the garden, but she found nothing to do there ; her mother's nosegay had
been gathered before breakfast, and she was
not allowed to pull any flowers without leave.
She sat down in her swing, but having no
one to push her she could not swing high, ·
and had no plensure at all. She still felt the
cold at her heart ; she knew she was not
doing her duty, and ·her . conscience was
whispering t.o her all the time. The forenoon appeared very long, and she found no
pleasure in any thing she tried to do.
Now; Mary was generally a very industri~
ous girl and loved her school, but for some
time her mother had perceived that idleness
was gaining power over her, and she wished
to give her a lasting lesson at once, and
break the spell of the tyrant. This was the ·
reason she so readily consented to Macy's
desire of staying at home. She lmew that
her habits of industry were still strong enough

•£••l-L,J~
FOR CHILDREN.

·'

· ..

..;

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.;

45

to render it impossible that she should be happy without employment; and that her sense
of duty would punish her very much while
she was neglecting its dictates ; so she left
her to herself. 'Vhen her brother and sister
~ame ho?Ie, ~hey were skipping and laughmg, and m high glee ran to shew their moth., .
er t\vo books which they had received as prizes. l\Iary had forgotten that this was prize
day, and now felt ready to cry with vexation,
but no one noticed ·her, till Jane shewed her· .
book to her, and said, "Miss Eells asked why ·
you were not at school ; I told her I believed
you stayed at home to play. She looked
very serious and did not say any more."
Poor i\fa1y ! she wi!ihcd very much she had
not been so foolish.
At dinner, Jane and George were very
busy telling their father about the trial for
prizes. Mary hung her head when her father said, "And where is Mary's prize? did
not you get one, Mary?''
"No, father, I did not go to school this
morning."
J\Ir. K. said no more ; he saw that something was wrong, and knew that l\;lrs. · K.
would manage rightly. After dinner Mrs.

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FOR CHILDREN.

K. told Jane and George, that whe~ they re-'
turned from school in the evenmg, they
should walk with her, and carry the frocks'
to the poor childrei1. So they ran out to
play an hour before they went to school.
They were very merry and swung and played school with each other, and then ran races till near school time, when they took
their books and started, very happily.
]\fory' wished to go wit~ them, for she was
heartily sorry for her foolishness, and was al-·
ready convinced of her folly, but she was
ashamed to say so to her mother ; so she
passed a very unhappy afternoon ; and when
her mothet and Jane and George went to
walk,she sat doWI1 and cried bitterly. When
they returned, Jane crune to - her and told
her all they had seen in their walk, and how
tlte children were so happy with their frocks,
and ho\v the mother had thanked them, and
how they hnd gathered berries and ate them, and I
·i
what a sweet bunch of wild-flowers they had i
picked (or their mother. Mary knew thnt it was '
J1cr own fault, that she had not been with them.
She would not bear the thought of going to bed.
till she had obtained her mother's forgiveness
(or •her folly, and. inade known her determi...

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·:,:·..

nation of endeavoring to do right in future.
She was fully convinced that the hardest life
in the world is n life of idleness ; m1d resolved, that, in future she would not harbor
such foolish wishes as had madt! her day so
un.happy.
She w·eut to her mother and told her all
her feelings, and her mother kissed her and
told her she knew that in future her days
!-VOUld be happier, nlld hoped she would remcm~r the J>lay-day, whenever she ':Vished
to avoid doing right hec.'\use it did not appear

pleasant nt the time.

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FOR CHILDREN.

.(9

So she put some things in a basket for wid-

TALE IX.
THE DEATH-BED.

MRs. K. and the children sat round the table lifter breakfast on Saturday ; there was no
i.
school, and the children were forming plans ;1
for the day: Jane proposed to make new dresses for their dollsf while George read to them ;
l'ilary and George wished to gather berries.
While they were talking, Polly came in,
and said that l\'lrs. Kelly, the poor widow to
whom she had carried some milk, was very
bad, (she meant very sick) and that her grand.
child had taken the fever. "0,'' said Mary,
" mother, do let us nurse them ; that will be
better than picking berries." :Mrs. K. wished
to bring her children up ta feel for the poor,
1111d not to shun the sick, so that it was no
' new thing for them to pass an hour or two in
a sick room. She did not allow them to expose themselves to . contagion uselessly, but
taught them what they should do in all cases
that they might preserve their presence of . •
mind, without which, they could be of no use
in the world.

ow Kelly and her grand-child, and they all
went lo the cottage. It was a mile from
where they _l~~cd, and, as some of you perhaps, nev~r v1s1te~ th~ houses of the suffering
poor, I will descnbe 1t to you. It was built
of logs, but, instead of being tight and wann '
like most log houses, was open in many places to the weather.
Mrs. K. did al: she could for .the poor, but
as her means were not great she could not
do. all her kind heart suggested 'for them. ~
She cou~d not rebuild widow Kelly's house,
so she did all she could towards i:nak:inoher
0
comfortable in it. ·
-.When they entered, they found .the \Vidow
on · the bed, unable to rise_. She had been
failing some time, for she was · very old; nobody knew exactly how old, .but some said
a hundred years. She did not know certainly, herself. · A gre~t change had come
over her ~ince the children Sa.w her before,
and as she lay upon the bag of moss which
served as her bed, with her eyes closed, and
P.er lips so very white, they thought s_h e was
already dead ; but she heard them come in,
and when she slowly opened her eyes, they

4

50

FAMJLtAR TALES

FOR CHILDREN.

heavy., :md she could. .not see her
were •·ery
•
.
ds When Mrs. K. spoke kmdly to her
.
fnen ·
and asked her how she ~clt, she whispered,
":My kind friend, I am gomg .home now, and
my cnly' care is for Susan, will you take her
into your house and keep her from bad com-.
any?" :Mrs. K. answered, "Make yourself
p y about that, I will befriend Susan."
eas
k
rth .
" Then I am ready: my ·wor on ea
18
done, and God will soon let me rest forever,"
sai<l the poor widow.
The children had turned to where poor
Susan, about eleven years ?ld, sat on a chair,
which shook under her, with the ague: poor .
thing she looked .blue and cold, and the
blood was settled under her nails, although it
was summer. Poor child, her teeth knocked
torrether so that she could hardly speak.
Sl~c tried to tell them that "Granny/' as she
called her, had been so bad in the night, that
she had risen to make a fire, ~d had been
up ever since, for when the chill came on, · )·
she could not help herself, and poor Granny ;
was grieving abOut her till Polly came with
the milk. She had drank some, but it would ·
not stay on her stomach, "and oh dear," said
11hc, "if I could only go with Granny, I

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51.

ishould .be so glad." Mrs. K. told her that·
s~e mus~ endeavor t~ wait God's good time
with patience : she did not reprove the suf-·
!fering child severely, but put some water ow
the fire in a tin cup which she had brought
for such. purpose: :Whe.n it was hot she put
some wi~e a~d spice in it, and made poor·
Susan dunk it, for she lmew she was worn
out with working and taking care of her
grand-mother.
When Susan had swallowed her wine, her
ague abated a little, and l\irs. K. wrapped
lier ID. a blanket and Jaid her on some straw,
which was her usual bed. After a little time
she fell asleep, and Mrs. IC., after talking
aw-bile to widow Kelly, told the children that
.one of them might stay with the poor woman
an hour, and then the others tnke their turns,
and thnt after dinner Polly should come and
.stay till the next morning. The children
preferred remaining together, and promised
they would be very quiet indeed. :Mrs. K._ .
then left them, bidding them, if they needed. · ·
any thing, or if the wid'ow was worse, to
send George for her, as she must return
home for the present.
When Mrs. K. had gone, George went and

POR
F.A.!lllLIA.R TA LES

gathered some chips nea.r t he _door · that tlier;
niight be ready for the fi: re if needed, . and.
Jane began qm'etly to amai ige the room, and:
make it some scimewhat .nc ·:ater. She moved
very quietly, so that she d.J[.d not distiub either SnSa.n ar ht:r gra.rtd~ mofher. Mary t~ok
the widow's Bibi e, and; si ittil'l, g upon the ~1de
of the bed, begmi to rend •some ~.of th~ ~av1or's
blessed words.
Widow Kel ly said softly,.
"Bless yon, dear child, those a~e· ':ords of
comfort,'' .and then ;~he lay very still nll Ma_ry
had read some time, when sbe s · uddenty ·said,
"Lord Jesus, recei\ 'e my spiri t !" and~ ~er
eyes seemed set wide opei1; r,·nt i looked: so
ghastly that Mary was alarmed;' •she s.i.w the
jaw begin to fall, nnd knew th "t the· poor
widow.. was dead; so she told Gt·~, ·')rge· to go
and tell their mother.
She did not cry, but, as it was· the . . · first: time
she:had seen any body die, she folt - very solemn,:and her thdughts occupied her
till her
mother-'Vrived in the carriage, for 8 ; 'he ·had
come immediately npon hearing Georg• · ')'s story. She brought Polly with her, ::uid t ·clling
the children to get into th< carriage am.
lride
an hour, and then come back she ·wen· · tin.
WhOO the children. were ridirig, they tal
'Iced

a

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I

CHILDREN-

··of deathj· an1l felt, that young as they were,
they ought to be rendy .<Jso.
When they retu~mcd to the cottage, they
found the body laid out on the bedstead, and
ready for'the coffin. Susan had waked, and
was crying bitterly. Po:Ily and another servant were to slay . till the fu.al was over.
They took :Poor Susan hmne, and the chil. dreu tried .all the mst of the day to console
her; she wns to sta.y with them, nnd to be
taught to read and sew, and to workr. that she
might be 'able to prnvide for herself should
. she ever ~ left in need. That , night the
'". children slept soundly, and. the next day, af.-ter meeting, attended widow Kelly's funeral,
and hoped .!hat when death came to them.
they should.also be found readyto answer th!!:

call.

· .1..

TALE

J

.,

FAMILIAR TALES

.:~<

t

X.

CARELESSNESS.

was so careless, that her mother
knew not what to do with her. She generally_ thought she wante~ to be good, but, if any
thmg drew her attention from what she had·
been directed to do, she left immediately.
She was not a child of a wicked disposition ··
b1'.t it seemed impossible to impress upon he;
SARAH

mmd, that she ought always to mind herr. ·...
mother. She woi.dd say her hymn
·
J

•

I

i

'' I must not tease my mother,
For she is very kind :
And every thing she says to me
I must directly mind."

·:.

She would. put the emphasis on directly, and
appear to foe~ that she needed to apply it to
herself; but, if ~er mother told her to put hertrunk o.nd box m order, she would go to her
room, and in her play, or the pages of some
of her books, forget all about it : when her
moth~r,, would call, "Sarah, are you nearly
done! she would say, N -o- 0 M-a _am I
)

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...·.ii.

F-OJI. CJULDREN.

55

hP.ve been playing, or reading, whichever it
was, and for the moment think she would do
as she was bid ; but alas, she would go on
the same as before, till roused by some punishment which her mother would be obliged
to resort to. Sometimes these punishments
would show their good effects for a week, but
by that time she was almost sme to relapse.
Her conduct distressed her mother very much;
· and os Sarah knew this she would at times
form strong resolutions to do better ; but alas,
lier resolutions were remembered but a short
. time, and then forgotton.
Mrs. Barker's ·
" · health was feeble, and she was therefore unable to keep the continual nnd watchful rule
over Sarah that was necessary to reform her,
and correcting this bad habit by sedulously
cultivating the habit of immediate and perfect obedience. O, how she mourned over
her child ! her· health decreased, and she
grew ~bler and still more weak, till at last
she died. Then how bitterly Sarah repented
her ,wickedness. She remembered that her
mother had said to her one day; ' 0 my child,
you are shortening my life b~ your conduc~ ;
and when I am gone, how bitterly yon will
feel when you remember your wicked disobe-

..,. A

56

FAMILIAR TALES

dience.' Sarah remembered this, and when
there was no one for lier to go to with her
troubles, she mourned very mi1ch : she found
that no one now would do for her ns her
mother had dorie : no one regarded her feel~
ings, no one directed her conduct, no one assisted her in any thing : servants, she found,
were not mothers to her. She had thought,
. that if her mother did die, somebody would
care for her; but now, if her clothes · were
torn, nohody mended them for her; and ~he
was obliged to wear them so, mitil her father
procured more: this made her so much ex-:...,
pense to him, that he was oblige<!. to send her ~J
to a boarding-school far away from him, and
through life, she found there was no second
mother for her.
Will this tale be a waming to any of you,
my little readers, and teach you· to make a
good llSC Of your time, Whiic your mothers
are spared to you, that you may not be obliged to carry through life, the heavy sorrow
of remembered sin, for which It is too late to
aloue 1

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FOR CHILDREN.

57

r'
TALE XI.
DILIGENCE.

i.

· l\fas. B. · had three children. Sarah was
·eight years old, Alonzo six, ~nd Helen just
two. These children were hke all olhers;
sometimes !!Ood and sometimes naughty ; but
~on will fiud that out ~ I tell you about
ihem. It was summer time, and there ~ere
no schools, so they were at home all the ~·
Mrs. B. wanted Sarah to learn to sew rucely
and acnerally gave her some work every day.
One tlav Sarah said , " I <lo n't want to work,
mother: I wish I did not have to," but her
mother said, " If yon do not sew to-~ay, because you happen to feel lazy, my ch1~d, you
would feel still less inclined to do nght tomorrow ; you must finish your ~~ron, an~
then you may play; if you se~ diligently, ~t
will have
to sit
WI'll soon be done > if not you
•
,,
at it all day, besides not feeling happy.
..
Alonzo was not nry wcll, -and was ·Jymg
on the couch, Helen was running from one
to the other, feeding them with some .o f her
bread and Mrs. B. was writing, while the
c

'

4*

Lt .·

2

oS

chP.Ckl'd her, :md she co11ti1111cd her sewina
.,.

Sh<: wns •111it<' clili:r<'nt. and soon had comr•l<'l<~I hN work, tli<'n her mother kissed her,
and slw 11·as '"'rr lrnppy 10 think that she
had c1•1111u1·MI h1•r wisl1 for idl<"nes.<:. Mrs B.
then took Sarah witl1 l1N to make some cnlls
upon her fri<·rnls: at oue lady's house, they
h1•11nl of n litt!P girl , whose father was <lend,
ruul who!iC motlwr w;L~ a hnd w:om:m, nnd
"''L' 111 tl1e l?oor House,
Snrah asked her
ruotl1<·r 'ro rry to help rhis little girl. Mrs.
B. tol<l her slw would thi.uk about it; at pres-

,

FOR CrIILDREl(.

F.UllLUR TAAES

servant nrrnn!!'<-<l tlw room~. Sarah beg-an to
talk to Jf<'l<'n, a.> she was se\1•i11!!', hut did not
speak p1ain. and h<>r motlw:r told her that . ,:
Hd<'n would not learn to tnlk well nnless
she spok<' plain!\· to lt!'r. hut Sarah was hced1~.... nnd did not nhvn,~ rcmcmhCr what her
mother told her. lfol~n was 1•ery good, and
snt dmrn hy ~:.rah. and Sarah i;oon brf('an to
lalk to Alonm in 11 sharp Ion<> of voice and with
n cross manrwr, rho11!."h sh<' loved him. She
hml a•·•111i rt'<I rhis ma1111Pr from a woman
wi1/1 11·l1mn s1J1, had !'Jw.·111 a yc:tr, when she
\l'll<; ahrn1I fn11r y• ,ars nld, a11d all lwr mother
could do h11d 11ot y..t co11q11crcd it. But
h<'r mother looked up from her writing and

,,J. j

49

ent they would go and sec the little girl. A
poor neighbor had taken her to Ji,,; hnuse,
and she sat clothed with rags and the picture
of sorrow. :i\l~. B. talked with the woman
a whilr, and promi~cd to try to pmcuru wt1rk
for her, and when ~he was goin~ home she
told Sarah that shr w1)11lcl
011t some
clot11cs for little Jane ii she wo11lil m:ikc
them. S:irah felt Ycry sorry for Jnnr, and
said to her mother, "0, mother if I wns like
Janr, what should I do! but God lms gi\·cn
me such a good mother." Whl'n thcr got
home it was dinner time. Aflrr dinnN, ~Irs.
ll. cut out some clothm; for Jane, allll Sarah
sa.t <lown and clicl not Oii<'" wish tu ,ti•p ~~·w­
ing 1ill lier moth1•r told h1•r it w:i., ti1111• to

c1;t

piny.

4

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60

FilfILIAR TALES

TALB XII.

FOR CHILDREN.

(

.&.!\GER.

JAs•: RJJd Et.LEN were playing in the field
thronl!'h which rnn th:: wate r from a f ne
~r•rin~, fonning n ~trram of !'Im ~ considcrahlr, l1JY'arhh nnd il1·prh . Tli<'ir mother lwd
r:111tio11("l tlw111 11h0111 pinyin(!' 100 m:nr it,
a11d f.1rhi<ldr11 th<'lll ro go 111-••ll tire tree which
~ · rPil for tlw l1ncl('ll. J1111c n11d Ell<'lt rnn
r:iet 'l' 111111 r:i11!!hr !! n L"-' hnpr~'~, a :1d l.dd them
in 1ht>ir hand;;
ns to rn11k<' o cai!I'. and put
tlwir hands with the f!tll~~liopi;crs in them
10 th<'ir mouths nnd Mid,

si».

.. 1.rn""hopper. ¥rn.<i.~hopJl<'r. I ho\'C• rou now,
( ;m· Ill" ~111111' lw111·\-, anti you rnar go."
Tlw11

Ill

n ~hon

ti11lf: tll<'y \\'011111 or:cn their

luuidll awl 1lw i11~c l \n:11 id irlaclly hop a.~
fur a<i )1(1 c1111ld. 1111<1 th<-y would liml n drop
ul something i11 t.l1t·ir hnuds \d1irll tn.c;trd

11.nd ll1ey c11l lrd honer, 1lwn thc'y
tho11:.:l1t the grasshopper lwd knowu what
dwr 1·:111;.d1t him for, 1u1d they would laugh
so nwrrily you would h11w• l1111g'h<!d yourself
sw1 ·..i

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61

to hear them. At last ll1ey smv some flowers
growinir near the ~I ream, and ran t\• gl'l tht>m
without thinkv1g of what t11cir mother httd
said; but Ell~n soon remind<xi Jru1e and w 811
nmning back, when .lmrn cnllrd for ht•r to
stop and Sl.'C lww liig-h the wnter wns; so
they threw ~tones in, and 5:\\\' the circk>s
"•hich tht~ y ma1l1• in tht' watt•r, mul Ellen
lhrC'W hl'r S!llll<'S the> forth~I, 1111cl that 1111100
Jan e fl'el crn~ a lillll', :u1d she said lo Ell<'n,
" You dare not i;rn orer the trC(', if you can
throw stones forth<'sl ."
"0, Jnuc," l'i1id Ellen, you dare nor. I om
mre for motlwr told us nnt ; hut if motl11·r
would ((·t 11 ~. w1• l'••nld hoth wulk •m it, I
think . p, r!1:1i'" wlw11 ti ... ,;prin:: i:; low, und
there is 1101 rn11d1 wntl'r lwn•, 111utl1cr will
IN u~ trr."
<; 0
}'Ott coward !'' cried Jane, ''you are
nfroi<l, ond so you say it is IJerawe mother
· will not let us. hut I will .._ro onir nnv how,
nnd rou llli•)' mn 111111 tell if you like."
l\ow J111w wa,; like 11 gtl'ul 111a11y other
folk~; wlll'll l<lw \\"lL' \T Xt'<I 111. tri tlo-~ , ~he lr.t h1•r
temper worry hi:r, 1111tl 111nk•' Ill';. \'cry nnh:ippy, nnd slu~ l'llrt..-d llOl II' hat 'lw snii:J Or Uiu,
lhou~h slw w11.~ g;·1lt'r11lly v11ry wrry itftcr-

lu•

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FAMILIAR TALF.S

wards. Sim felt ,·excd that. Jane could throw
stones furthest, an<l more so, because she
·1.-new it wa..'i foolish nnd wi1ked to be en'·ious, and she wru1ted ..to nmke Ellen do
80rnethit1!{ wrong too, or at least to make her
cross, hue Ellen had a very sweet disposition,
nnd was very sorry to sec Jane naughty, nnd
would not do nny thin!! that she knew was
· wrong, for her j!Oldcn rule told her,

,.
:

That tlwy shonlcl do to me,
w~ntlc kind nncl good,
As childrnn ought to be."

Wiii makr, 111r·

In reminding Jl\Ile of her mother's directions,

molll<'r."
•
Jan<' hrul run

llC?O.'lS

the tree as she last

.! .

JJJ ,(,.

1-' 0R C'lllLDREN.

"Tn do to otlwrs :l> I wonld

she only thought that perhaps Jane had forJ!'Ollcn thrrr· ; she often' wnntcd to go on the
tri'<', for sh<: wi~h('(I to stand on it over the
middle of the stream, 1md sec it nm; it nlwuys mad11 her hnppy to sec the running
water, 11.ml ~Im felt no fonr, except of disoflf'yin~ her mother nnd doinrr wronrr so she
"
"'' she
to 11< J ime, "I shall not tell mother
unless
a.o;ks m<' .. 1Ul4 tJ1cn if you will tell her . yourself I will not, but I cannot lie to my kind

a

i,-pokc to Ellen, and was now on the other
i;icl0; s h<' was more ru1gry than ever. and
and thong-ht she wonlcl rnn back !Uld 'strike
Ellen. for l<!w wns cYCll wicked cnou<Th to
do that wlH'll slw w:l<; :mgry with hE"r, ~ she
slnrted , but lwfon~ shl' got over, her foot slip:p<~l and sh<' ft,11 i11tn th(' water.
:\ow. tl11nHrht i<il<', rnotht'r must know it,
ftH shn had w1·t herself very much. but ns
she was near the hank, she caught .hold of
Ellen's fo)('k nnd got out. But her ·rage
\\'IL."' so g"'ar that shf' pushed Ellen violently.
Elkn scn-amr·d to lind herself foiling, nnd
lwr head struck the I re•', 111111 sh<' lay under
tlw \\·at.-r ' " ~1i ! l that .la11\' was fri.,htcncd ,
a111I di111l•·1l clt>w11 ;ind tried ro pull her out,
but slw was ll•'t strnl ig- l'llOUj:th to lift her,
so that slu• had to run screaming to the
house that Ellen wns dead in the stream.
lier mother wns terribly frightened, nnd she
with all rhc scrrnnts rru1 ns fost ns they
cou Id 1111<! took Elkn out; hut :>he did not
move, mu! 1l11·v snw blood ou her head,
awl fi111ml a c:u.l to th1' l·M•llt) where she had
hit tlw tr.-1·. Th< ~ i>lmv had stunned her
awl m;ul .. lwr in:<l'11sil 11<'. They carried her'
to the hou,;c arnl p1 l t her in lx.-d, nnd wl
~

f

I

~Ai.JilILlAR TALES

the time they were trying to bring her to
her senses, Jane sat by weeping in the greatest agony. She cared not for the punishme~t bet mother might inflict upon her, but
the wickedness of her conduct and of her
whole life seemed before her, and she felt
that her heart was altogether sinful. S!1e
hardly d1tred to pray, but th0ttght th11.t if
Go<l woul<l but restore her sister, she would
be willing to suffer ;my thing that could be
intlictecl. - Wlwn the doctor arrived, he bled
Ellen, 1111rl i-;hc soon opcnc:<l her eyes. Then
he b1t.llclagcd her head, which -had not bled
mucb, l\S. the cold water prevented it. Presently she said, "Jane, sister Jane;" and
~·hcu Jane went to her, she put her arms
around her rK><:.k, and said "don't cry, Jane,
you dicl U<ll. mr.an to hurt me so much."The docror told her uo_t to talk now, and
she \voul<l soou be well. But Jane could
only w~p, and cry, "wha.t shall J do, what
, shall l do! " till at Inst her mother told her
,blie must go away, as Ellen could .not sleep
i.tttl®-~ ~he was l!till, She ru::,hcd ont and
tluowi11;.:- lll'r~()lf on the ground tried to pray.
At first, i<he could only c1y, "Oh God (orgivc me, forgivt! me!" After a while, she

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FOR CY 11.0RF:N.

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became calmer. and poured out her f<'Clin~
in prayer. and when she rose from that
spot, sh(' felt that GU<! had fory!iVl'll hPr,
mltl hofl''<I through lhe help of his Spirit
she shou Id he cnahled to nilc her p.'lSSion
for the future.
When she went iuto the
houS(>, her .mother told her lhat Jane w:is ·
asleep, nnd would be nhlc to.. ~ret up tho
IJ('XI day.
Jane was ''cry thnnkful in lier
hcarr, and she said. "Mother, if I don't
tell pm hO\v wicked I have been, I shall
not be happy.., So she told her 11iother aU
her wickedness., and nll her repcnl.auce and
her mother snid she hoped she would Ile,··
er for)..rnt thnt day; 1111d sh1• did 1101. She
tried to imitalu J·;llm in her ~'l."111 l1•11c~cos 1111d
kindnc..~ of heart, aml aftc·r mum time lwr
mother tolcJ.l1er i;he wns l'<) much pleased
witl1 the change that she should nlways offer up special thBUks to God for renqwing

her hcnrr, and ~ving her n wish sincnn
· 1uul humble, to follo\v her Savior's foot'!ll:J~.

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FAMILIAR TALES

J .

FOR CHILDREN.

..

TALE XIII.
SUN AND Jl{OON·

" :MoTHER, where does the sun go when
.
beh ' d the hills and we cannot see
it gets
m
·
b
. - I know it shines on other. people, ut
rt.
'
~
. does it not stop sometimes .
" No, my child ; I think you can understand if I explain the cause o[ day and
,
. t any rate I will attempt
·
h
nwht to you ' a
it "'and you must be very attentive, t at yo~
'
1earn. you, know
that the earth
is
may
.
,,
1
round or nearly so 'like an orange .
"Y~ mother l know that it turns round
'ts 'ft~;.,. a~d that attraction and the
on i <~,
£ lr
pressure the air prevent us from a mg,
and that there is no being underneath, for
that the middle of the earth is the bottom
to every body on the surface, and that we
are never with our feet up as I used to
think before you told me."
·
" you are a good child to remember so
well , and as you do, I think you will u~­
derstaud what I now tell you. The sun is
round and very far from us-so far that

.;."·..

"

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61

your mind could hardly conceive the distance. Now this sun is apparently stationary to men, and has many planets moving
round it. I will tell you of these at some
other time; now we will talk only of the
earth. The sun being luminous, which
means, giving light,· makes that part of the
earth which is· next to it very light, and
there it is day ; on the other side you see
it is dark, for it receives no light, and there
it is night : now the earth turns this way,
or from west to east, which makes the light
come upon the eastern part of a country
first, so that the snn appears to rise in the
east, and as the earth still turns light leaves
the western part of a country last, which
makes it appear to set in the west. When
we speak of the sun's rising and setting-,
we simply mean the earth's having turned
so as to bring the light to us or carry it
from us. Do you think you understand this
. my dear?"
"Yes, mother, I see ho\v it must be.
But is the moon with the sun?"
"No, the moon moves round the earth, ·
and is a reflecting body, which means, that
when the sun shines upon it, it throws

.Q

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.

FAMILIAR TALES

FOR CHILDREN-

back light . upon all near it: it moves round
the earth in twenty-nine days and half, and
goes round the su1; with the earth."
"How lonu
does it take the earth to go
0
round the sun P'
"Three hundred <tnd ~ixty-.five days, or:
a year ; it takes a little longer, but in.;tead
of making the year begi11 at different times
of do.y, u dny is added to every fourth year, .
which makes all even. Every fourth year
is called leap-year."
" .Mother, why does the moon look some-·
times round and sometimes not?"
"As the sun appears nearly still to us,
and the moon is going round the earth continually, the sun shines upon all of one
side of it, and it appears round; as the
moon ~els to the side of the earth, or one
quart<~ r towards the sun, thoug·h the sun
still shiucs on one-half of it, only one-half
of that sitle cn11 Lie !>een by us ; so that
she appears like a t1m1rter of a moon. - .
As she approaches the sun, we sec less of
the i 11 uminatcd part, till at last she is direcll y between the earth nnd sun, so that
her hri;;ltt side is away from us and we
:>tm no nwou at alL As she leaves the

'

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•' ...::.... :- . •-11::.-:,

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. 69t

sun ngo.in and proceeds round the earthr
we begin to perceive part · of her reflected.
Iicrht and say there is ·a new moon. She
0
'
proceeds as before IO' the full."
"How can the. sun shine upon the moon.
.w hen the earth is between them'!"
"You sec this candle, which we will
call the sun. I will place this ball just as.
. hi ah as the candle, and call it the earth;.
no~ this small ball is the moon : if it went
round the earth in a line just as high as.
the earth itself, it would be hiddep,,, but
God has ordered that the position of.its or-·
bit, which you know is the path in which it
moves, should remedy that ; when it is at the
side, it is ju£t a5 high as the earth, aud sinks.
lower as it nears the sn 11 ; then on the other
. side it rises just as high, again, and carrying·
that circle round, you pen:eivt) ma,l~es .it 1·is~
above the eai:th when opposite to ~e;sun ; so·
that it receives lig)1.tthere, nnd9etlects it to us_
Do you understand this, my dear?"
"I think I dor mother ; but t!e clock is.
striking and I must attend school : I will
think 'of it this evening, and if you have·
leisure and will talk \vitlt me agall:i to-morrow, r can ask you about what I do. not
know."·

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It l .. :ZX$l(t .,. #.Jh4¥=1 ..¥J

·1·1

FAMILIAR TALES

POR CHILDREN.

TALE XIV.

f
CLOUDS.

"l\.foTHER, if we could o-et on a him
hill, . and get on the top of a great t:'ee
on it, could we touch the clouds ?" said
Alonzo.
"Why, my dear, what do you think
the clouds arc ?" ·
"I don't know, mother, I should like to
go to them and see."
" I will tell you, and that will do at
present. You know there is a great deal
of water on the earth : the oceans and seas
and springs and ponds?"
•
. ·
"Yes, mother, and after it rains there are·.,
~ great many ponds which go away in a
httle while; where do they go 1 I don't
see any noll in the ground for the water
to run litl-lt."
"Sotll .of it ·sinks into the earth between:
the grains of sand, and a great deal is.
drawn up into the air by heat."
ci How does the heat draw it, mother 1"
u Heat makes the upper particles of wa-

·

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;· ~·

71

ter separate, till they are so fine that
they are lighter than the air ; then they
rise through it, until they get where the
air is as light as themselves."
" What makes them rise, mother ?"
" You press your hand on this basin of
water. Do ·you sec that ru; your hand is
pressed down and takes the place of the
water, the water rises up 1 so, as the air
presses down towards the earth, and the
wat~r has been so much separated by heat
as to become vnpor, which is very liO-ht,
0
the air, being heaviest, will make· the vapor rise above ;t."
" How curious, mother, but you make
,me understand it now."
}rec "Well, when this vnpor has risen so
high that it is just balanced in the air,
it .remains and is blown about by the wind,
and more vapor rises, and these vapours
being blown together, or colder air making the particles come together, form clouds.
When these clouds are too
full oi water'
,
that is when the drops have joined to other drops, and become heavier than the air,
they fall to the earth, and that is rain.
Sometimes they are frozen in coming do~,

a

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72

_,

I

FAMILIAR TALES

and then it is hail. Sometimes ''ery cold
air will come upon the \·nror and freeze
it so su<ldenly that it f'.'annot unite into
hard drops, and then we lut\"c snowbeautiful, white sno\v."
"Did any body ever go up to the clouds?"
"Yes, dear, I was about to tell you, but
I wished you to know what clouds were
before I answered your first question.Some mo11nt<1ins am so high that the clouds
gnther round their sid<'s, seeming to those
who pa.«s through them like an ·ntmosphem of water, and wetting their clothes
completely through , and when they get
above them the :sun is fn:<1ucntly shining
brightly. People go up in lJnlloons, too,
alxwe the clouds, and are frequently in
sunshine while it lightens and rains below C,hcm,"
"That is vcrr str:i11ire, but I sec why
it mny he so no"' you lir1,·e cxplninrd it
to me. lV hat arc dc\\'s, 111othcr? arc they
rnin 'Jfl
"No, . ( told you thnt water is almost nlways rising into the .air. and is kr.pt there in
nn im·isible form hy h1·al. M 11i1.d1t the g-ra.o;s
• and otl1cr ol>jects become cold, nild this ~~por

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FOJt CHILDREN.

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comin{! iu contact with these objects, its heat
is take~1 <1way, and the water that was before
invisible becomes dew.,,

74

FAllHLIAR TALES

TALE

FOR CHILDREN.

XV.

I

TEMPER.

Two little girls were one day walking
home together: they had both been good
at . school, and their hearts were full of happy thoughts.
"Sarah,'' said Lucy, " don't you think
we have the best .teacher m the whole
world 1"
"I can't say," said Sarah, "for I do not
know all of them; but .Mrs. Newman is very good ; .for even when she punishes, she
tells us why, and why it is better for us
to suffer for faults now than to grow up
with them, and suffer always from them.
When I am careless, I feel that I had
rather be punished, that the pain may guard
me· from the like fault in fi.tture." ·
"And I too;" said Lucy, "if l\1rs. Newman was not so mild when she punished
I should think my hasty temper no such
great fault : Did you hear Mrs. N. tell last
week about herself?''
"No, I was absent that d~y, for mother

l

I
!

was sick aml she wanted me to see that
Jane . took good care of sister Helen ; you
know she sometimes is cross to her. Can
.
'!"
.
you tell me the story now .
·
.
"I will try," said Lucy. " She said that
when she was a little girl, she had a very bad temper : her mother did not correct·
her for it, and would not allow her ~o be
contradicted at any time, so that her temper grew worse as she grew older. When
she did any serious damage, she was often
ve1y sorry, but was too proud to say ·so~.'
At last she began to be very_ bad to her
mother, and her mother was sick, and was
obli<red
to send her into the country. She .
0
was sent to a very good farmer's house:.
Mrs. Harrold did not allow her children to
indulge any evil passions, and was very
much distressed -when she found how' bad
a child her friend had sent her to man- .
age ; for she feared that if she corrected
her, she should lose the good · will of her
friend. She therefore wrote to Mrs. Ne~­
man's mother and told her ~hat she thought
of her child, and asked her if she was willing that she shoultl place her under the
same discipline as her own children. · She

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FAl\l:ILIAR TALES

FOR ClllLDRF:N.

had no a~swer for a whole month and began to thmk that her friend was very angry, and would send for the child whe
.
'
n
Qne evenmg a black woman, in mourning,
came to th~ door and asked for her. She
called her 111 and received a letter foll of
melancholy news. Her friend had died a
week ~fore, but had written a letter before l~smg her senses, consigning her darling . girl to the charge of so good a friend i
praying her to be more tmly her friend
~an her ~nother ~1ad ever been, and begging God·s blcssmg on both of them.-Mrs. Harrold called in the little Susan and
told her of the death of her mother ' and
that ~artha, the black woman, was 'come
to wait upon her. Susan cried to think
she should never see her mother any more
but .11Skcd where her pct, Martha's little girl'
was J .Martha burst into tears, and said
master hu~ sold all but her. Mrs. Harrold
w~ astonished, but breaking open .Mr. Leroy s ~cttcr, found it was too true : He had
put lus name as secmity for a friend
d
been obliged .to pay. He could not'
~e shadow of dishonoi, and had sold al I
h13 property a.ud paid to the uttermost far-

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thing. The shock had hastened the death
of his wife ; and he had to begin the
world anew, and toil for the support of his
child, while his heart was in the grave.
Martha was so old that nobody cared to
buy her, and had come for a refuge to the
friend of her young mistress. :Mrs. Harrold was very much shocked to learn the
sufforings of her friends, and determined
within herself thnt .Susan should never want
a mother while she lived.
"Fur a. while Susa.n behu.vcd very well,
but she soon began to show that sorrow hnd
only lulled. her passions, and that they were
far from being subdued. Upon the first storm
:Mrs. Hanold took hr.r to Jrnr room and
talked with her sometime, shewed her mother's Jetter to her, and told her that from
that time she must conquer her. temper, or
she would be punished until it 'was conquered for her. Susan was ve1y angry, and
scrcanicd and called for Martha; but Martha di<l not come. She told l\Irs. II. she
would <lie before she would ohey wlmt was
said to her. 'Very well,' suid Mrs. H., '.I .·
shall learn you to yourself then, until you
arc mor< ~ µe;icealily inclined .'
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FAM.UAR TAr...

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She had no dinner, no supper, and at night
was put by Mrs. H. in a closet adjoining
her own room. Susan \dvas very hungry,
but she was not subdue : she tried to get
out of the window, but it w~ fastened ; she
then sat down on the bed, and tried to invent some means of escape. At last she
spied a box of matches on a shelf, nnd detcrmined to set the bed on fire, thinking to
fri!!"hk.n thcrn nnd prevent their punishing
h~r in future : she did this, but l\lrs. H.
slept soundly, and it was not until Snsnn
fonnd it so hot she could not bear it, that
shc awakened the l1ouse by her screams :
i~ was too late to save the house, and too
latc, alns, to save the life of Mrs. H's
youngest child, who slept ngainst the partition of I.he closet, and was suffocated. -Mrs. Nc\11 mnn cried very much when she told
this, l111t ~aid that it 11ight be a wnrninrr
to nll who laa<l violent tempers. I _ tre;
hied; T nm snre, and think that ·whenever
T feel angry I shall think of that child.
Ml");. Nrwmnn said that Mrs. H1mold fainted
when she found that her child wns dead·
hut that when she went to- her, and on'
her knees told her how it happened, and

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promised s"olemnly to_try to replace the lit-

tle one that her bad passions had sent to
the tomb, . Mrs . .rhI. htook her dby thGe hdaz;d,
and kneeling wit
er, prayc to o 1or
strength to bear her loss, and to forgive and
love the cause of that losR. Mrs. N. could
not speak again for a few minutes, but at
last said, ' I have told you enough to im- _
press the lesson, I hope ; but in the many
struggles I had with myself, and during
the long ti1nc before my efforts \Vere blest
and my· passions Rubdued, Mrs. H. was my
constant friend, and guided me to that only source of ~:ace from which we can draw
. strength in our combats against our evil dispositions.'

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F AMILIJ.R TALES
l'Olt C'!ITLDRF.:\.

TA.LE

XVI.

I

.CANDOR.

)foe;. Hor,m:s lived very near ll'Irs. B.
=ind Yirgini;i. sometimes came to play with

Sarah. Sometimes they walked in the woods
:ind found flowers, for they both loved flowers, very much , as almost all good children
dn. They wo11lcl !iring them
their mothP..rs lo sn.1~11 , and offer them ns many as they
hk('d. J hen tlwy would put some of them
in water, and some of them the' would weave
into wreaths for their hair. Some, they would
plant, for they were very fond of making gardens, and Mrs. B. mdulgcd them in all things
dlllt were not wrouir or injurious. Sarah had
a ti111 ~ s.win!!, fa$fcncd lo the tops of two high
trerJs ; 1t wa!) \'<'ry strong nnd safe, and Sam_h low"<I dcnrly to he allowed to play in it
with her 1i.11le frrc·rnk Th<'y would be very
nwrry, golll!! Hp until they touched the
lir;mr:hC's. llow they did !;ugh and enjoy
tht·111.-.·I n~s ! Solllclirncs they rnn under ; I
suppo~' you all know what that is -- pushing
untt I the one 111 the swing is out of reach,

to

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and nmnin"' forward while she is in the
.Ur. One c~~ning Virginia wa.." in the swing-,
and Sarah was pushing her, when she a~­
cidenlallv stepped upou her ·frock and tore
it half 11:av ronnd the skirt. l\ow Virninia' had oft~n torn her clothes, and her m~th..
er had told her that she would whip her
if it happerwd ai!ain.
Poor Yirg-inia had on a. nice white frock
this c\·cnin~, and though not to hlame for
the acri<lent, she bcgnn to cry bitterly, for
foar of a whipping, for l\lrs. Holmes wns
\•cry severe when she was angry, nnd was
apt to ~ivc l"Cnt to her tcmpt•r LX'fore exnmi11i11i< whether slw had reason. Sarah
felt rf'ry s11r~y . ancl g-ol a needle an<l cotton to nll'nd tlw fn ick, b11t it became dark
long bdi>re it wa.~ <lone, and Yirginin was
<>hliged to go home. So Sarnh went to her
mother :i.nd a..;ked her if she might go home
with Viri:inia, and tell 1\lrs. Holmes how
the accident liappcnctl. Now Snrah trembled \'l'ry 11111r-l1 nt the idea that M~. H.
might "o:oltl lil'r, hut !<Ill' k1ww lliat she did
not lt>ar th" frock i111t ·11tint1allr, ;u1d she
«:oufd 11111 l•·ar tlw id1 ~ a of Virgiuin's being
whipp1~J for what sl1 0: had doue. So she

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FAMILIAR TALES

went with Virginia and told Mrs. Holmes
exactly how it had happened, and then said,
"Please don't be angry with Virginia, for
indeed she could not help it, nor did I
mean to." l\'bs. H. told her that she was
not angry, and Sarah ran home very hap..
py. She determinedfrom that time to make
it a settled rule with herself, never to let
another bear blame which belonged to
her ; and she well observed this rule, and
derived much happiness from it; for many
times those who might have suffered severe1y, were saved by her noble candor from
undeserved censure, and their good will
and the approval of her own conscience,
afforded her more happiness than all the
ill-gotten gain ~n the world could have
done.

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FOR CHILDREN.

83

TALE XVIII,
IMP A TIEN CE.

" How tiresome it is to learn to write,"
said Jane Grey. "If I could sit down and
write as you do, it would be plca~ant eno1~gh,
but it is so tiresome to make so many strmght
marks and not one of them straight, either.
'
Oh mother
do -you think I sh aII ever l earn·'I"
l
•
"Not
unless you have patience,
my d ear,"
said Mrs. Grey. "Nothing~ is ever learned
without patience and persevering efforts. Do
yon think I could always write as I do
now?"
"No, mother, but you have more patience,
.more resolution than I, so it must have been
easier to you than it is to me."
"True, I have more patience now, than
you have my dear, but it was not always so.
When I was a little child, I was even more·
impatient than you are. My kind pare~ts
were often grieved by the bursts of p~u'ln
which frequently disturbed the peace-0f'the
house when my wishes were not gratified at
once. ' They tried every means which they

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FOR CHlLDRRN.

84

FAMILIAR '!'ALES

generosity to act, that it might pl'oduce its
e:tfcct upon you,' said mother. I could not
help shedding tears at such ·a p:oof of the
kindn£ss of my clear sister, for I did love her
very much, and promised sincerely to try
to com1uer my impatience and bad temper. For sometime, as I had n? very seve.re
trial I succeeded to my own satisfaction, and
my ~arcnts began to entertain hopes that my
irritability had diminished. Alas! I was to
.receive a very severe lesson. ~en we
were about eight years old, we went mto the
field 011e day to guther berries. Some of the
girls went into another field, and crie~ out
to us to run there also, us the)r were thicker
than they had seen them in their lives. We
started, and I being strong and healthy,
jumped over the fence at once ; but Mary
had been sick and had not rec~vered her strength. She called to me, "Sister Jane,
plense help me." I w::is in a gtcat hurry,
and my impatience to get to the ~ bushes was so areat, that instead of helpmg her
kindly, I r""an back and giving her a. pull,
-said, "'Vhy cannot you do as the
of
us do?" Her frock was ·entangled m the

could devise to teach me to control my tent,
pet, but for some time it was all in vain. l\Iy
twin sister l\'Iary was the gentlest child I ever
saw. She never seemed to be out of patience
with any thing. :Mother told us one day
that the one who would thread a needle first
shoulJ go to walk witli her that evening.
I was very anxious to go, and took the needle
and th read, determined that I would do it .at
once. I tried several times, and succeeded
in getting the end of the cotton through the
eye, but in my haste to secure it, let it slip
out again. I was ready to cry with vexation,
and on looking at Mary, saw that she was
smiling and patiently endeavoring to overcome her difficulties:· I tried ~<Tall 8lld again,
and Rt last succeeded, when, on handing it
to my mother, Mary followed with hers.
Dear sister, she looked so pleasant, that while
I never thought of relinquishing the reward
t~ her, I could not refrain from saying 'I
wish I was as patient as you, sister Mary.'
She smiled and we went to play. · While we
were walking, my mother told me that Mary
had threaded her needle several times, until
she could do it quite easily, but had not
shown it, that I might walk. I allowed her

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FAllllLIAR. T.\LES

~·c111

top
the
her
rail

rail of the fence, which was loose, and
pull which I gave her made her lose
balance al\d fall to the ground. The
fell upon her leg and broke it ; she
fainted~ but I did not know that, and saying,
"Never mind, jump up ru1d try another," run
on. After some time one of the girls said
"\Vhere is Mary 'i" I was alnnned, and ran
to the place wl1crc I had left her. There
she lay, how still and how pale. I thought
she w:~~ d<'ad, :mcl ran screaming for help.
Some men heard us :md carried the sufferer home. Then it was that I found her leg
was broken. 0, how I reproached myself.
I told my mother exactly how it happened,
and I can never forget her look as she said,
"And this is the fmit of your ·impatience !"
It wns enough. I rrui to my room, and
kneeling down, earnestly prayed God that
he would give m1• strength to overcome this
terrible sin, as l now felt it to be. It was
the first time I had viewed it in its true
colors, ru1d l now felt such a horror at myself, that it was long before by earnest prayer
for pardon 1111d strmg-th for the future, I
r..oulcl rt~cover myself sulticiently lo go to

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my sister·~ side. \\"lH•n she saw me she
held out her hand. and drawing nll' to hrr
said, ·· Don't er\·. .dear sist<'f: ~·oa did not
know that nw t:r~wk wa.<: fostc1{cd, (Ind that
I called you ·to lnMe it for m<'." My tears
burst for.th afrl'sh: had I had an instant's
patience, this would 11nl han•. happen<'<!. r
felt :i.~ thn11irh I cn11l<l llt'\"t' l' ::;n lTieicutlr
ntone tilf t ht' <'t·il I had canscd. \\.hen :\lary co11ltl sit 11p, my mother proposed that
we shn11 lcl both lt'am In write, for I net·er
left my cl1·a r si:-ll'r when I could po:;sibly
be with her. \Ye commrncl'<l; oh, how I
did striw~ with the ('\·ii spirit on.e n wlll'n 1
would St'!! thP prn~!Tl'SS that Mary made,
while 111i11c wa:< 1:n111parati\'l·I~· ~low! :\ly
impatience ,,·0111<1 riM', lint 011<· !!lanrt' at
lier 1ml1~ foc~C', aucl an inwnrd prayer for
help, carried me through. It was n long
time before l\fory could walk ahout, n longer still before I acq11irc<l such n con1111n11d
of my t~lllJ>l'T ~" I wi~lw<l i hut my PtHkn·
vors w<~ n~ 1mce~'ill!!, a11d uot madl' in my
own !:'tr<'ng-tl1, nm! wltr·11 I w:ts t\n ·ln• ycnrs
old my 111111lwr kis.c:t'<l me mul said <:o<l hnd
given her :i11otl1cr I\lnry. 0, 111y child, d11
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88

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FAJ\llLIAR TALES

89

.FOR CH!LllUEi\;.

not let me see you fall into the sin of which
I have now warned you, but raise vour
heart to God, whenever you need his help
and in time all difficulties will vanish fro~
ym1r path/'

I

TALE

xrx.

TIH: Ill:;W,\lll) UF

'

l'IET\'.

;\nm·T twch·c months ;iftcr. Jnnc hro11ght
hrr copy-book to hcl' mother, ;111d :.'llr:<. n;·cy
\1·:u.- n':illy snrp.risctl nt the i111pro\·<'nw11t in
it. Thi' lt'lters were nil cn"!n , the stwke~ firm
anrl l'l''..."lllnr, nud Jane 11ow felt it no \'<'Xntion
at all to write. She was rm1ch plcasrcl with
her mother's comme11dati011, and <lfll•r putting
nwav. her hook, sat do\\'H hy iier mother's
sidr.' nppn~ntly in deep tho11ght.
"\\'hat ah~0rhs pm sn, my d<'nr," said :\<Ir.-.
(;!'('~', artcr nhscrYing her for sonu· time in sil<'llCC .

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"I was thinking,:dear mother, how truly it
was, that, as yon told me, if I prayed for
hrlp, all diflienlties won Id vanish fro111 my
path . I km•lt down that night :incl prny<·d
cnmPstlv to Go1l, that lw wonlt! gin· HI<.'! n
1ww

ltl'<;ri , au<l Jill it with ~trl'11gth

tlw ri:..rl1t way.

1t1

walk in

I rt•pcate<l tl1at prayer 111<'11·

tallr, wlwn I perceived impatiem:c intrmliug
and God never wi tlihcld his nid. J

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·:1P.·-.

:FAMILIAR TALES

hod many trials - it was so hur<l al first to
be patient-I had been so used to frettincr
"'
bnt when I asked, the strength came ; for
you know,
"God's own most holy book declares,

He loves good children well ;
And that he answers to their prayers,
Just as a tender Father will,"
"That is a sweet hymn, mother, don't you
think so?"
" Y cs, my dear, it is, and I am glud you
make so good a use of the hymns you leam."
"Not me, mother. · I said it without thinking of its meaning, till little l\1enie Holt, who
goes to om school, talked to me about it one
day. She is a poor girl, and most of the
scholars will not play with her, because her
father is a bad man. But her mother is very
good; i\1cnic is so kind nnd gentle, and she al.
ways speaks the truth, and she is so plensed
if ~ny one notices her, that I love her dearly.
I did not take rnnch notice of her until Sally
Kent, whose father got rich by some sudden
mcm1s, I don't ]mow what, laughed at her,
.and called her a poor thing, who qmld not
get stockings to her feet, I knew when she

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FOR CHILDREN .

91

could not get shoes, but did not tell her so,
for you tell me never to taunt any one ; but
when I saw Menie crying, and Sally following her and aski11g her why she always wore
one frock, and when she had it washed, I Ifill
to the poor girl, and taking hold of her hand
said, ~I almost hate that Sally Kent!' 'Pmy
don't say so,' said Menie, as well as she could
for crying, 'the Bible says we must l~ve our

enemies, and pray for them that dcsp1tefully
use us.' I was ashamed of myself; that
such a little girl should be_ so much better
than I. We walked on together, and after
that I was very much with her, for I alwnys
felt better when I had been tnlking with her,
she knew so many hymns, and '<1pplicd.thcm
so ,vell. I have wanted to tell you about her,
but it seemed as though it would be like
boasting. May I bring her here for you to
see some day, mother?"
Mrs. Grey gave her consent, nnd wns so
much pleased with the appcaranc,e and manners of the little l\fonie, that after some time
she offered to take her, ns a companion for her
own daurrhter
and bestow upon her the same
0
,
. cl
advnntug&is of education &c., as her own cl11l
:received. l\'lrs. Holt, who had several other

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FAMILIAR TALES

children, was .very glad to have Melnie so
well provided for, and her father cared nothing about it. Melnie made the best use of all
. ! her advaptages, and in her gentle duty to herself, and the example she set before Jane,
Mrs. Grey was rewarded an hundred fold
for her kindness. In sickness, no one so indefatigable as Melnie; in trouble, who so
kind~ Who so full of such sweet scriptural
consolations ? It seemed as if her whole
heart was full of fervent piety, and abounding love. When in after years, Jane married and left her mother's house, Melnie remained to fill the place of an affectionate
daughter, nnd she did fill it to the last defe1Ting her own union with a man e~ery
way deserving of her, until she had performed the last duties of love to her benefactress. Nor \Vere her own friends forgotten : many gifts she bestowed on them, which
she could spare from the abundance which
she received ; and till her parents removed
to a dis1a11t part of tho connt1y, she rose at
dawn in the morning, to teach her sisters
the lessons which she had herself learned.
She wept bittel'ly at separating from her beloved mother and family, but feeling that

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God ordered all things in his own good pleasure she endeavored to submit her wishes
to his will. The year after Mrs. Grey died,
she was established in a comfortabl? home
of her own, and wrote to ~er mother to send
one of her sisters to her, that she might be
of use to her. The letter was answered by
her mother in per.son. The scarlet fever
had destroyed both her children, tmd her
husband hacl gone far away. How happy
was Melanie, that she could shelter her mo.t her's head in her declining days, and see her
looked upon with respect and affection, by
him who was her protector. from the evils
of the world. As her children came of age
to be henefitted, they were told their mother's history-that the increasing wealth of
their parents might not induce them to value themselves too highly, or make th.em
look down upon those who had nothmg
but merit to recommend them.
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94

li'AMILIA.R TALES
FOR CHILDREN.

TALE XX .
.SELFISHNESS.

MRs. ELLrs had
called Luc .
. a sweet babe, who was

b
~ . Eliza loved her very much .
,
ut, sometimes when she . h d
and h
wis e to play
er mother called her to hold Luc '
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was cross and not pl
J , she
casant to the swe t
and when it looked up in h ii
e one;
led, she would scowl and ~:yac,;Iand_ shmicould never h
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ave to hold you a"ain " N
tius
was very wicked
?
.
ow
but when she let
·z' .and Ehza knew it ;
ing unwilling to ob:v1 h into her heart, by benot prevent its e t Yd _er n:iother, she could
x en JOO' its
·
love for the little h I l "'
poison to her
El'
.
c p ess Lucy One d
iza !rad a new doll
d
.
. ay
frock for it . J
' an was making a
. s 1e '\'ill> \'Cly I
for some time b ·
Jusy and happy
done, her mother ~~lle~htn she was nearly
1
her sister as h
~r to take care of
,
s e, was obliged t 0
d
to receive some . 't
go own
•
v1s1 ors
d d'd
to remove I ucy 1
' an
1
not like
L'.
'
' w lo was. not 'vc II, ll'o1n
t lle warm room h
s
e
was
lil
Eli
d'd
dare refuse to d . h
·
za 1 not
o as er mot11er bade her .

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J.',\Mll.IAlt 'l' .H .W;

<'<I up in her hc:ul

!'O thnl nnly the whitr. <'ould
hci i;~:11 , her hnncls f'. !Pnd11_·d and p11rplr, exCl!f'l wl1crc th1• pr<c"l'llfC of tl u.: nail s l'<"n<lercd
them 111·rti·1·tly colorl r.~s. El iza screamed Yioft:ntly, 1111~ (':11chi11g- up the lilllc sulli:rcr,
witl11mt ~'f'in!!' that hr.r doll's frock ·went into
the fire•, she f"'rr<"in-<1 that. hr.r S\\"r.et sis ter,
Ml b.~1utiful !mt a 1<hnrt tirnr before, WiL'i in
11 tit. :\lr;o;. Ell i,; :darnwcl bv Eliza's criPs
.
·~ '
r;i11 11:.-tilr 1111 ,,t;oirs ; hut it wns too late.
I ,o wy \\':L' p:o.,t h11111·: tliat sw1~ct cherub pa&('<] frn111 1lii1< worl<I to il!i helter l1onm in a
\'cry lf,w 111n11w11I!'. Ou re movi ng its clothes
n 11.t'Cdlc w:1.s fouucl huried near I.. y lialf wuy'
in 1l<i hlllc hodr.
It had mo ved iu its sleep
to the cdf," ! of llu~ conch, and at lust rolled
o(f upon n noollc which wns in part. of Eli~,a·~ work. ;\lrs. Ellis wns much distmsscd,
11111 who c ;i11 1':or wlmt Elizu felt: her s is·
h' f · ·· lll'r litll1· l.111·y killr!d-nctually killed
hy lwr ·'Pl fi ~l111""-~ :11111 n11ki11duess ! She
w11.s iu sud~ a;;o11y o~ mind thnt her body
s1111 J; . 111111 tor 1'I •111e t 11nc lter Ii fo was dPS·
p;~ir<·d of: f,ut ii pf, -;,,,"cl ( :011 lo rilisc: lwr,
flfl1 •r flu s mrfitl lt·s •·1i11 , fr11111 lll'r low l<ftttc,
au<l ,,fw l11·1•:11 nc scrup11lo11 s ly <',;1rcful, 1wv
• 'f lo allow wlfal11ws~ lo huvc thn least do-

97
1ninio11 o\~<'r her: the c~lls ni nth('l'S '"~en!
a\w;n·,- fi rst nttc11<le1l h', a11d when she wns
a.~k l'rl h\· a strnn!!rr one dar, the cause of
~onll' di; inten'sl<'d actin11, sh e hnrst into tears
a11d exclaimed. '· ll t .ncy ! Lucy! can l
r1·<'f a!!nin rdurn to the 1!11ilt lhnt killed
pm , my ron ~el, at1!;•'l "i"t1 ·r !" The stran·
.r..r. who ktll' \\- ll(lf tn what ~he nllmkd,
~·11winetl si k nt. arnl ti-IL for tl w lin;t time
i11 lwr lili.:>thnt ~11ri1>sitr w:1s n ti.,l'ling which~
should not nlways lw.~ in<lulgL'<l.

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tp;g .4.. J.li .

FOR CHH.DREN.

TALE XXI.
TllE HOLIDAY.

";\foTmm, oh mother, do plca5e let me /!O
wirh the rest of the girls to Forsyth to gath.
<•r ch inqnepins," s:1icl Sarah, . nmning into
the hons.! 11t 11 o'r:lock one forcuoon ; " :Ml'$.
firadlf'c hrL" rlismissPd 11s early that we may
go. I said my 1i~sso11s well, so do dear moth('f ,..,r Y"s to m"." Being quite ont of breath
Sarah .s1A1ppecl, and !,raw her mother nn op port111111y t<J spenk. " You have not told
me who is ti> direct your movement~: it
would be dangerous for n parcel of school
i.,rirls It> i!O in the mil cars, and wander in
srm111-"~ wood~, without some one to pre\•ent
llwir !!"ffi11:.r i1110 . mischief and danger! '
"0 mo1li1•r," sail! ~amh, "who by this time
had l'CCO\'t'rPi1 lwr hrrath fully, "lllrs. BradIcc is goiug with us. She says we have
behaved so well, th11t she will reward us in
tJ1is wa}' if our p1u·<·111s arc willi11K. \Ve
11re <'11d1 1,1 tukc lwcnty-live cc111.s, mid a lit.
Lio bn.skl't to put Ilic <:hi111111cpin~ in. Don't
lnugh, uow 11101.hcr, you know whnt I lllCIUl ·

'

99

th<' h\"('!lf\"·ffrc cents is to pnv for thl' ride
in the l'a~, and the mtts will ~ in th~ h.'\.~­
kf't ... thcrc-thnt will do, won't it'I" "Ye~,
mv dcm; hnt ,.,,11 will h:wo to put the nuts
in. the ha... kC't, '1 think: I never MW one{!<>
am· where of it~lf in mv lifo." s~
J~::rhc'<l heartily and io:1id, "\Yt>ll, dt'nr moth1·1.·' I hop" thnt [ sh:tll !cam to iqwak rorn'<:th· hdi>n' I am much older ; if l do not,
it \\:ill 1101 h<' ,-,)11r fault I nm Mm·. But
tlw •(lie"tinn n~\\' is ...-'to ride, or not lo
rid•:!' M the i::pt'(•ch snid, or not exnctly M
it said <'ithN-- th<' 1,rirls lnugh nt nlf' for
Ill\' nicl'IY. n.~ tlwv call it; hut l should liko
,.,· "l"'"k · ·,·orwctiy wlwn I nm a W•>mnn,
and if I .i,, 111akt' n fu"" al10111 it now, l
hop•• i11 ti11w it will lw.•cn11w natural to n11•.
You tll'\Tr !'<'f·m to think what yon shnll
say, hill ~1,. ·ak correctly nt once !IS if you
1wn·r did otherwise." "Pmctico m..'lk~ Pf't·
fret, in using- r.orrect langunge IL'! in cv11ry
thin<>'~ clS<~ 7·· snid '.\!rs. B., "llfld if Mrs. • Bnid•
h•t· 1s to he with you, l hn\·e no oh,1cchon
to your llf·iug- of the pnrty thii1 t'vening.
At 'what 1i111<.~ nrc you to mnl'l !" "\Ve nw

ull h• I· · at the depot nt hnlf JllL"t two
o'clock," ~aid S;1rnh, •· but may Alonzo 1,ro

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100

FAMILIAR TALES

with us 1_..:.Mrs. Bradlce gave me leave tO'
take him, if you are willing, and he will
be so pleased.'' Sarah threw her arms round
her mothet~s neck in her anxiety for· her
brother's gratification, and Mrs. B., pleased
to perceive the love between her children,
gave her assent at once. Sarah kissed her
mother once for herself and once for .Alflzo, and then danced away to tell him the
joyful tidings. She found him weeding her
little flower garden, and he looked .up as
he saw her coming, and cried, "0 Sarah,
you have got another heart's-ease, and some
pinks : Thomas gave them to me, and I
have planted them in your garden ; for I
knew you would like them." " Thank you,
dear brother, for them," cried Sarah, "but
giwss where we are to go this evening."
" I don't ]mow," said Alonzo ;· " perhaps to
fot11ces :;tore, to see the pretty things?""No," said Sarah, "but on the rail road
to Forsyth, to gather chinquepins, with all
the school girls.~' Alonzo jumped up from
the ground and cut a caper in the air, crying, "rVho has got such a mother as we,
and wou't we be glad to go F' They went
into the piazza and washed their hands and

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faces, and then went into the house and
found two baskets, that their mother had
given them some time before. They were
made of ash splits, and held about two q1mrts
each. They put these baskets with their'
bonnet and hat, and· then .went to play till
dinner time. After dinner they went to
the depot, and found l\'Irs. Bradlee already
there, as well as some of the children.They .gave their money to Mrs. B. for safe
keeping, and walked· · about and looked at
the cngine1 and enquired of Mrs.: ;B. how
the steam could make the cars .go.· . Mrs.
B. very kindly explained the machinery to
them, by which time it was the hour for •
starting : about twenty children. had ari:ived, and they set out. At first, they
went very slowly, and Sarah was just going to jump up, to look out and see what
stopped them, when she saw the trees fiying pa.st them fast and faster and foster still,
until she almost believed that they were
all running a· race .a nd she sitting still to
see them. Mrs. B: told her she had bet.
ter not look out too much as she would
become dizzy, and they passed a very pleasant half hour in hearing their kind teaeh-

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102

FAMILIAR TALES

er compare their prr.sent manner of traveling with what she remembered thirty years
back. They thought that the man who ·first
applied steam to traveling, was a great benefactor, and ought to be acknowledged as
such. The car stopped at last, and they
all scattered themselves in a small wood,
which Mrs. B. pointed out to them: it was
so small that they could not lose themselves,
while in it, and Mrs. B. told them not.
to leave its bounds unless to return to the
house. They were very busy for an hour,
and having filled their baskets, they all returned to the house and sat down to rest
•themselves: they had some milk and bread
and
cold. ham, which Mrs. B. had provided, nnd then .w ith happy hearts returned home. Tlicy had a fine view of the sun
whid1 was setting just as they left the cars,
and they slept sweetly that night, and many evenings the chinqucpins roasting in the
ashes recalled the pleasant afternoon they
bad spent in gathering them.

some

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.\"'Afilll!'..""'
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l•'OH CHILD.II.Er\.

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103

'I' A L E X X II .
THE PRIZE.

<c Mother, you· know Mary Hoyt, don't you;
she lives in that old house by the branch?"
said Ella Dean one day.
"Yes, my dear, but why do you ask me?''
Ella was much agitated when she caine
in, and as it was an unusual thing for one of
her even temper, her mother feared she had
been led to do something wrong, for which
she was sorry; for Ella always mn.de her_
mother the confidant of all he1· feelings and
actions.
c< Why," said Ella, c< our exarriinntion is in
three weeks, and Mary and myself are the
two highest scholurs, and the prize is between ~is. Mrs. James told us to-day that
we must be dressed in white during the
days of examination, and Mary has no white
frock, and her mother cannot gi vc her one.
She cried when she told me to-day that her
mother was obliged to work very hard to
get enough for them to e;it, and that she was
paying for her schooling herself, by working

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104

FAMILIAR 'fALJ-;S

for l\'lrs. James between schools and in the
evening. She hopes to be able to teach, one
of these days, and thus support her mother
and littl e brother and sister. I felt so when
she told me nhont it, that I did not know
what to say: for she <lc:'.~erves the prize J
am sure ; she tries hard to learn, and it is
to be either a rncrlal or ten dollars, as the
winner chooses, <111d the money would help
her mother so much ! Oh, mother, cannot
J do something for her '? .May I give her
one of my frocks ; yon know J have two '! "
""\Veil, 111y dear, let us talk it over; do
you wish to help her, or to· have me do it 1 ,;
"I wish to do any thing I can, I am sure,
hut if -1'ou do not allow me to. give her a
frock, h,ow can I help her now 'J "
"Arc you willing to mnke the other one
l<L~I you all tile summer for your best, if I
allow yo11 to µ:in~ lwr one of them ? " said
lllrs. Dca11c. " Yo1l know it. is not the motiny I valne, lmt that I wish to teach you
f.Jwt it is no <:lrnrity to give away that which
we c11n do w; well without, or rather that
which ii; proviclc<l fnr us hv auotlter. Selfdenial ren<i<"rs a !dud act n;rv sweet to our
hearts, m1<l acceptable to Ootl."

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FOR CHILDREN.

105

" Yes, mother," said Ella, " I know that
if I am not willing to deny myself for others, I am in truth as selfish in feeling,. even
thouo-h I o-ive away much that you gwe me,
b
0
.
ldl
as thotwh
I retained all . I will g a y wear
0
my one frock every Sunday, or if it does 1.1ot
last will not be at all ashamed of a calico
]mow you tell me, if
One'·' for our dress ' you
neat and clecu1, .is .of little consequence to
our well being."
:Mrs. Deane kissed her darling, who so
well remembe~~d her precepts, and telling her
to bring Mary home with her in the evening,
to try on the frock, bade her run now and
play.
" When .Mary came in the evening, she
appeared so modest and so thankful, that
Mrs. D. made many inquiries about the family, and learned that they had been in good
circumstances, but had become reduced by
misfortune, and the death of her father, to e:treme poverty. .They would not expose the1.r
wants to the eyes of the envious world, but
worked on in silence, in the hope that God
would bless their efforts. The frock fitted
very well, and Mary ran home with spark,
ling eyes, and happy heart. Ella was very

106

FOR.

FAMILIAR TALES

f.·n·or~,

101

py time the girls enjoyed. . Jln;. Deane did
not allow the interest which ;\lary h <itl l'Xcitc-d to die away. but throu!!h her intlncncc
procured pmfit~lilc wMk
i\lrs. Hoyt nnd
cnahkd her to support her family much l:i<'t ·
tcr than before. After sotnt' time she was
able to open n shop for sd ling- small articles,
and nmkini.r c:ips :ind hm11wts, &r., whid1
hrought her consid1 rnbln inrotm'. ~h1 1 nlways l1xikcd upon :\!rs. l>rm1c and Ella ns
her lx·st friends, and mwer g11\'C them couse
to repent of their kincl11css to her.
?.Iruy grew up nml b1•cmm' a tcnchcr of one
of the best schools in the con11try, mul at l;L~t
married a man whos.~ pmpnry \\'as ~o l111'J;n
that she g:n-c lwr lir11tli• r and ~ish·r an ••xrdlcnt Nhwatio11 1 and lin mnthl·r pasM·tl lier ln."<l
days with her in all tlw l'Olllforl that wealth
co{lld llCstow. Mary told hrr husbmul the
history of the frock, nml he loved her the
better for her candor. Could such per.-t))J~
fail being happy hen:, and not reap a slill
happier eternity '!

silent; at last, she looked up to her mother
with tears in her eyes, nnd said,
"Oh, mother, 'to whom much is g-ivcn of
him much will be required,' and how much
is given to me. l\foy God help me alwnys to
bear this in mind, and remember the liymu:

Arc these thy

C'll l LDREN.

for

day hy day,

To me nborn th<' rrf;t ?
Then let mo Ion ~ thee 1i1orc limn they,
And try to serve thee hesl.

1

'Vhcn the examination day nrri\·cd, Ella
allowed Mary to go hcforn her iu her rx<'rciscs, that she might win the prize, contenting herself with the second. l\lary, who knew
that Ella could have won it, burst into tears
when she received the money, nnd told the
circumstm1cc of the frock to the assembled
company. Poor Ella felt that the praise that
she received wa.s a new temptation, and
retiring to her mother's ~;idc, sut down, repeating to herself the text she hail quoted formerly, and sending up an inward pmy1ir for power to do right. At t ltc foti~ after the close of
the examination, Mary propos!:d thi1t Ella
should be chosen qnecn of the clay. The proposition ww; joyfully acted upon, and 11 hap·

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FAllllLl.'\.R. TALES

108

l
TALE X.X:III.

'fns. H.rnn.To:\ often pointed out to her
<'.hilclrcn their duties an<l cndcarnrC'<l to l~ad
tlwm coustantly to refer the bk!>-~i1u~s which
they rc~<~iwd to thPir trnc sourer. l\Iany
"'"~'th<) J,-,,nn ,; whid1 she incnlcntc<l; but
thi< ahll f' w:~~ 11•1t e11n11gl1. Slw plnccd be·
fi•r• ' tllf'lll 11pport11niti<~s to practice the p.r c·
cq•L' ,d 1 ich ~1w tau~ht.. They accornpa111cd
her in lwr ri ~ it ~ of charity, and many hours
di(I Ell<-n t;dw from her plnys th:1t she might

day ·I::ll1·11 ri ~ 111nw<l from a wulk in te~rs;
""" ran 10 lwr mother, n11tl begged her with·
0111 loss of Lillie to !!i\·c her some food and
·conli;d for n poor ~1·nnia11 aml child, who
wcr•• drill!! in a ~lw<l i11 1he JH'XI square. ·- ·

l\frs.

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FOR nlltORF.N.

I
j

no rime, i1n1<«:'d, whr.n i;uch u

her b<11rnct m1d :;hawl, nnd was soon 1111
her way to tht• sc<'ne of misery, 11L-spi1t· ot
the cloncl~, which thn,:uenc<l :i lw:wy shower. She bade Pt'<'!!\' follnw with an umbl'{'lla, and hnstcn1,,-<l ~7.' ll:ml.ly rould :-h1~ kt't'p
pa<'e with Elh-11's ~ll·p~ , and when !<he or·
rin'<l :it tht' miserable 0111-)11111"<' :111d :sl\\· the
1ll1j<'cts that had atlmrlt'cl lhl' sy111p:1thy of her
dau!!hter, ~11c eoultl 1101 hut i:h11dd1°r to he.hold
pcr~ms of her own !<PX in ~uch n condition.
Famine hod J"C(}uo·d tlit•lll lo mc•rt: :;kt•lt'tOni<,
and the fo\\' l!'IOJwnt:; dial W<'fl' upon tlwm,
hardly S<.'l'\"t'<l tllf' p11qw""' of ltid111!! their
liml>s fru111 tht> s1·11rd1i11g ,.:1111 11f 111111 -d:or, 111·
th1• d1illit1~ tl1•11·s of ni!,!:lil. Tlwy w1·ri· l~lh
nt that time l>l1i,·.,ri11g- with llg'lll', although
thP weather WtL~ opprt.'S.' i\'c\y wnnn. They
npJX'nrcd to be TIKltlu•r nml child, though no
one could jmli!<' rnm-c1lr of tlwir · ng'I·, iu
their present i;utfi·rin~ stntc. Wi1lw11t wnit·
ing to q11t~tio11 their dl'~wrt.-;, Mrs. IL took
co1111!<CI of ht>r flil'ly, nml pr11<"1·1:tl"cl nl once
to ndmi11iskr !<1.llllC \\' Ill<\ 111 1I11•111. 1'111'y
luudly appcAll.~ s..·n~ilol•· 111' 1111: ki1111ncs:s, llllll

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109

c..ise calh'<l her, nnd bidcling- Pegiry put up
wmc "·ine, bre:id nnd meat inn hasket. put
011

TlH: }"fit:JTS OF IXFIDELITY.

sew for the poor. Many n. frock and tippet
did Jwr y<)llll~ hands make for thost who
J1.1d 11•> ;nmn~ lo f!CI them for t!Jcmsclvcs ;
111 1d 1:i:im· hearts hl1:;s~•'<l the kin<l child, who
al·,,·;"·' J; ;,d a pl<-:1$nt1t word for nil. One

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no

FAMILIAR TALES.

Mrs. H. feared she had been called too laif!.
She dispatched Peggy to get a dray with a
straw bed on it, and a blanket; and when it
arrived, had the poor creatures tenderly lift·
ed and laid upon it, and driven to her house.
They were obliged to go pretty fast, for the
shower was close at hand. But the road was
smooth, and they were in the house before it
came down. At sonnd of the thunder,
the woman shuddered nnd h.id her face in her
lrnnds. They were Lrought ·into the sittingroom, still upon the bed, and laid upon the
:floor, until preparations could..~ be made for
putting them to bed. Peggy soon brought
\vord that all was ready, and taking,. the mo"
ther in her arm<>, who, indeed, weighed but
iittle, carried her to a comfortabl@ · room,
where a warm bath and clean linen seemed
to refresh her very much, and she seemed to
endeavor to speak. Mrs. H. could only make
out 'thanks,' - - - 'Mary.' She said all
that could calm the poor woman, promising
that the child should be taken . care of,
anci brought to her. She then went down
to the room where Ellen sat by the poor .
child.
Ellen looked up to her mother

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FOR CHILDREN.

\

111

and said, while the tears flowed frolil1 her
eyes : " "\Vhene'er I t,1ke my walks abroad,
How many poor I see ;
What shall I render to my God,
For all his gifts to me ?
'1

Not more than others I deserve,
Yet God has given me more;
For I have food, while others starve,
Or beg from door to door.

"Ho'v man,.y:' ~hiid1'en in the street,

Half na~ I behold ;
·while 1'aln 'Clothed fron1 head to feet,
And covered from the cold.
" VV-hile some poor creatures scarce can tell
Where they may lay their head ;
I have a home wherein to dwell,
And rest upon my bed,.
.i< While others early learn to swear,
And curse, and lie, and steal,
Lord, I am tang-ht thy name to fear,
And do thy holy will.
Are these thy favors, day by day,
'to me above the rest !
Then let me love thee more than they,
And try and serve thee best

f'

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112

FAMILIAR TALES

"Oh, mother, how shall I ever answer for
all my privileges? "
.
:Mrs. H. kissed her, and smd God would
point out the way, if she would follow it.
Pcrr!!V took :Mary in her a!ms, ancl carried
hc;71j-, to the room where her mothrr wns,
nnd fresh warm water bcill~ brought, she was
put into the bathi11~ tub. She opened her
eyes for the first time, and said, " 'Vhere run
), mother?" Her mother tried to raise her
liead to 1111s1vcr her, bnt she.could .not; nnd ·
wh1·11 Mary was put into h~ ;~, the tears
flow<!d frn111 her eyr.s, while
·h ad not pow·
er to wipe them :nvay. ·when ~rs. H. first
hc1trd of them, she had order~ s?me broth to
be prepared, and it wa..<; now brought up. Mrs. H. fed the mother, and Ellen did the
1<anm by the child. What ru1 interesting
:;ight ! An~ds smile when they sec such
deeds upon earth. After swallowing some
nourishment , mnthrr and daughter sank into
n d<?C[> ~lc>P.p, 1111d Urs. 11. and Ellen went
down to their tc•1, kaving- the faithful Peg\_ry
to sit in tlw ro11111 11·it11 the sutfcrel's. The
poor scrmnt's hciirt was full , and she knelt
clown hy the bed nrnl thanked God for giving
her a kind master and mistress, who would

she

,

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1-'0ll. CillLDRJ>:'.li.

i

113

ilc>er sec her iu such distress. Hrrmi.nd re- ·
licYcd b\' this act. she sat in her chair watchin2 the ~otmtenm;c<'s before her, and comparin~ her state with their.;. :\ew springs of
fc~;liu~rs !'l'f'llll'd 10 t~pcn in her heart, mid tluulkful ncs- on•rllowcd within her. She knew
that if ill. sll\' ~hould he w~1tchcd and attcuded, and ti.~an:xl 11 ,,, to l>c lt•fl \11 the misery from
wl1ich these 111.1or creat11n~s had LK'en rescued.
,\-hen Mr. HamiltPn was told of thc.i r
guests, he kisS('(l hi:- wifo ;111d daughter, and
giving them his f11 ll approhatiou, said God
would not wirhdraw his bounty, whilti they
were faithful t<!ewan.f,.;, baifo them atlicn , ns
he was t\1 l?I' intn tfll' country a fow Wl'eks.
.Mrs. II. a1~I Ell,•11 wt·n · i-11rry In h1! ~p'1ratl~U
from hi111, ,.,·,·11 ti•r a s h1•rt ti111~·; hut instead
of rcpinin~, t11rn1:d thc·111s1•lws to the diligent
pursuit of their dut i<'" ·
,\.hen they \\'<.' lit up stai~, nlicr Mr. H. WIJ.S
gone, lhcy fouml thnt their patients had hccomc very r~tles.", nmJ !hat thl'y were iu IL
high fovcr. )In:. 11. inu111'lli:1td~r :<t' lll for a
cloctnr, who s11id that tlu·ir i-~lr< ' lll•' d1•bility
would n~p1in• th•' l!rt·n.,.st ··an•. Mr~. JI.
kiSSt:d Elkn, mid :w111 lwr ti> hc<I at 9 o'l' lnl' k,
for ~he rt'<1uir1J l 11.:r to L><' regular in her

114

FAMILIAR TALES

hours, as her health depended upon it. Ellen disliked to go, very much, but she always
obeyed her mother without question, as all
children should do. She went to her room,
read the parable of the " Good Samaritan,"
and praye9. God that he would give her a
heart always ready to use his bounty aright.
After praying even more earnestly than usual, not forgetting those who ,V-ere too ill to
pray for themselYcs, shr, l:ty dow11, and soon
falling asleep, dicl not again awake until
broad «iay light. She sprang up, arnl after
craving- protection and guid~i.nce through the
day, went lightiy to the parlor. Her mother
was not there ; she was asleep. She hnd
been up most of the night with thli sick ones.
The mother had rayed in a manner frightful
to hear. Mary had been begging as though
she was still in the scenes of misery through
which it was apparent she had passed. "Pray
give me a. piece of bread, or. a cold potatoe !
I am very hungry. Indeed I am not deceiving. I did not· steal. 0, I never stole any
thil1g. Once I had enough, but now I starve !
Water, for God's sake, to save my life ! "
Poor child ! it was heart-breaking to see
}Jer, her thin hands clasped on the bed co~

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FOR CHILDREN.

115

ver, for she could not raise them, the tears
stealing from her tlosed eyes, over cheeks
that had no roundness,-pleading in that piteous manner, unconscious that her lips were
moistened every few minutes, and her burning head enveloped in cloths kept constant·
ly wet 'vith cool vinegar and water. Sometimes she would appear to know that her
mother was near her, and beg she 'vould
pray, saying, that an angel told her that if
her mother prayed God would answer ; hut
the mother did not pray ; her dreams were
all horrible ; she was pursued for crime and
taken to punishment, and she would call on
son1e one, named James, to assure her that
thiS' was all the hell she should suffer; for
unless he tolcl her so, she was sure she saw
before her the fire that is not quenched, and
felt the worm that never dies crawling to
lay hold on her. Mrs. II. was very glad that
Ellen did not hear
this, for it would have .
been too much for her young feelings. About two o'clock, she seemed exhausted,
and the fever .abating, she sunk into a sleep.
l\'Iary hud been quiet fur some time, and MrsH. )mowing that days and perhaps weeks of
care would be needed, waked Peggy, and

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116

FOR CHtLDREN.

F AlllILlAR T .ALES

giving her directions what to do, went t~ her
room, and recommending herself to God, was
soon in the refreshing slumber that fatigue
gives to health.
Ellen finding no one in the. parlor, went
softly to the room of the sick ones, and
found them still asleep. Peggy said thev
had waked once, and after taking nourishment had sunk to sleep again. So she told
Peggy to lie down on the carpet and get
some more sleep, and she would take her
Hible and sit by' the bed. Peggy obeyed,
for she was sleepy, and Ellen sat reading
for nearly an hour, when her mother came
in, a.ud kissing her, told her she had better
take a nm before the sun got high, and, as
she came back, tell them to bring in breakfast. Ellen
io the spring-house, which ·
was about half a mile from the house, and
had a bathing-room in it; she plunged into
the cool water, and rubbing herself carefully dry, was soon on her way home, with
her nerves new braced, and spirits elastic as
the flowers which rose from her tread as she
tripped along. Mumma June, the cook, met
her ruid told her brenkfost was ready, so she
ran in, and was just in time to join hci

ran

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117

mother in craving a blessing on their food.
Ellen never relished any food on which God's
blessing had not been asked. While at their
meal, her mother told her that ]\fa1y was
still a.sleep, but that Mrs. Lane, for that was
the name of the woman, was awake and desifous of talking, but that she had told Peggy
not to speak to her. :Mrs. H. did not think Mrs.
Lane would recover, but she did not at present
tell Ellen so, for she did not wish to cloud
her hopes. After breakfast Mrs. H. told Ellen that that they would ta.kc their sewing
and sit in the room, to take care of the sick
ones, while Peggy went to find a nurse ;
for Mrs. H. could not give her the constant
care which she would need, without neglecting her other duties.
When they went up stairs, Mary had just
waked. She seemed much surprised to find
herself in bed, and said in a faint voice,
"how sweet and clean." Mrs. H. told her
not to talk. She gave her some tea, :md
told her to try to go to sicep again. !VIrs.
Lane began to groan heavily, a\l(l appeared
in much pain; but when :Mrs. H. asked her
what was the matter, she only said, "0, if
there is n God, what will be my state. Mrs.

'··<.?••;m=

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118

FOR CHILDR1':N.

FAMILIAR TALES

H. was much shocked, and telling Ellen to
go and carry some articles which they had
made the day before for a babe who hnd
come into the world, and whose mother hnd
not been able to provide clothes for it, she
sat down by the wretched woman, and talking kindly and seriously to her, asked her
if she did not feel that there was a God '!
MI'S. Laue shuddered, and said " Ycs, I feel
his rod ; but what will hecome of my soul'!
for it is vain to think of my body. I cannot live, and how can I live forever 'lWhat will become of my soul ?" Mrs. H.
told her to trust to the · mercy of the Savior. "But I have denied him: alas, I have
denied him, and he will now deny me !" .
Mrs. H. told her to pray. She said God
scofl1; at the prayer of the sinner, and I have
hccn one of 11wm. 0 James! James! you
liavc tlrag-.!!ecl me from a high place on
earth, a11<l will yet drng me to hell !" Mrs.
JI. knelt down l?Y the bcclsi<lc, and prayed
forvl!111ly for light aud mercy to this poor,
Josi, wandering soul, and for wisdom to bendit hy the lesson before her. When she
rose from her knees, she rend many of the
sweet promises of scripture, and they s~~em-

119

ed to enter the heart of the despairing one,

i"

awaking there the idea that there was a possibility of salvation. She appeared much exhausted, however, and Mrs. H. advised her
to try to sleep. She said, " Do you not wish
to know who enjoys the shelter of your roof?
Shall I tell you the story of my sins and
their punishment 'P' l\'Irs. H. told her by no
means to attempt it ; that some days h ence,
when she was stronger she might <lo it, but
not now. And soothing her with kind words,
she at last fell asleep. l\Irs. Hamilton had
the little l\lary removed into another room,
that her recovery might not be retarded by her
mother's violence. Ellen spe1it much of her
time with her, as all she appeared to uce<l,
after the first few days, was rest and ge11erous food. But l\'Irs. Lane was apparently hastening to the grave. Mrs. H. spent
great part of the mornings with herl ns she
appeared to be less under the fufluence of the
disease in the early part of the day, and
was able to comprehend such religious truths
as her kind hostess laid before her. For a
few days, her mind was in a frightful stutt,,
Despair sat upon her soul, an<l she dared
not ra.ise· her eyes to the cross of the Sa-

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120

FAMlLIAR TLAES

viour. After some days, however, ,she join.
ed in the prayers which l\frs. Hamilton ceased not to offer at her bed-side. She referred too, of herself, to some passages of scripture, and appeared much softened. One morning, Mrs. H. was ngrceably surprised · on
entering the room, to perceive that the wildness of her eyes was gone, and that a calm
smile was upou her face. She h eld out her
himd, and tlmuke<l Iwr hostess for her exceeding kindness, saying, " ''Vithout you I
never slwul<l have found a Saviour! During the night, sweet assurances have been
vouchsafed to me, that though my sins are
as scarlet they shnll be white as i.now ! What
cleansing power is there in the blood of the
l..arnh ! O, my friend, thank God with me
imd for me, tltat his gr.ice has sought me
out 1111<1 found mo! Now I am ready to
go wll<'nevcr God secs fit!" Mrs. H. was
much affocte<l at this manifostation of gracet
nnd poured out lier sonl to that God who
is so re:idy to receive all who come to him.
Th<·n rising, she i;at down by J\'frs. Lane
aml crlfrred into c01nersation with her.Her limuility \vns very great, and she seemto feel very anxious that she might be

eu

1''0.lt CillLDREN.

l21

able, ~n some way, to shew the reality of
the change which had taken place within.
She ~egged Mrs. H. to listen to her story,
tltat, if she thought fit, ~he might communicate it to her child, whom, she · earnestly
begged Mrs. II. never to forsake, but to put
into some honest way of maintaining herself, when old enough, adding, " I ·do not
crave worldly riches for her ; give her the
riches of God's grace, and that is enough.
I was rich once," said she; c; my parents
were of the wealthiest. All that money could
procure, was lavished upon me. Masters in
eve1y accomplishment! Years at the most
expensive schools ! Foreign travel ! All
were resorted to that my person and man-·
ners might receive the highest finish . When
sixteen years of age, we were crossing the
Alps : a tremendous storm arose, and death
appeared inevitable. At .first, all our energies were bent to the one object of finding
shelter from the increasing storm ; then came
fear, dismay, despair! My father, whom I
had never before heard utter the name of
God, but in levity or impiety, now called
wildly on him for help. . My mother, whose
health was delicate, see~ed to sleep. As for .

8

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123

FAl\IILIAR TALES

POil CHILDREN.

myself, I cannot describe my sensations.Several hours passed of mingled hope and
aO'ony
when our g-uides,
who had left •1s
b
,
for succor, returned. . 'Ve were carried to
a house half way down the mountain ; my
mother still appeared to sleep. Alas ! it wns
the sleep of death. The chillness and fear
had been too mnch for her feel;Je frame. I
was almost fnrntic \\·hen I saw that the mother, whom I lrncl not enongh vnlnccl, whose
comfort hnd always appeared to be bound
up in my smiles, who had gratified my every wish, W<L~ no more. Kile, the mild, the pious, the gentle,-right in all things but a
too great fondness for a wilfril child. Often had she endeavored to instil into my
mind the seeds of piety, often had she shed
tcnrs over my levity, :01d many prayers had
she pnt np for one, who, alns, never prayed
for hcrsel f ! Wheu I snw her before me,
in the dread arrny of "the grave, my heart
seemed ready to burst its tenement, and uttering shriek upon shriek, I was carried
for from her resting pince. l\'ly father was
much affected. He seldom spoke, but returning- to our now desolate abode, we lived
for some time in gl?omy retirement. How-

ever, my volatile nature, after a few months,
bca-an to resume its sway, and soon I was
pl~nged into a round of gayety, as if no
o·rief had ever touched me. My good re·o
solutions were all forgotten ; and as my
father seldom accompanied me, l received
the attentions of many, who, having nothinO"o but showy manners tmd pleasing exteriors to reconuncnd them, were the worst
companions whom I could have 1_net with.
My father's wealth, made me the object of
pursuit to many. Some were attracted,
may add, by my a.ccomplishmcnts, nnd person, which were not contemptible,~but there
was no one solid qnality in me, which could
attract the truly good and wise. Thus time
passed : my heart was uot touched, and my
vanity was too much flattered by general
homage, to wish to exchange it for the devotion of anv one I had yet seen, so that
my father s~w not the danger' which was
closing around me. About two years after
my mother's death, there came a yo.ung man
to our city, as a bank agent. lbs appea.rance was fine, his manners winning, and
his introductions such ns to insure him
welcome in the best circles. I need not

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FAMILIAR T .ALES

describe his person ; suffice it to say thu.t he
was an avowed infidel. At first, I avoided
him ; for my mothel''s memory had not entirely Jost its effect. Perhaps this avoidance
piqued him, for he paid me the greatest attention, entered into argument with me to prove
that he was rigllt, complimenting my reasoning mind, and at last winning my heart. I
pass this briefly, but a ·lesson might be drawn
from it. My time is short, my strength failing, and I must be brief. Suffice it to say,
we were married. My father paid my fortune into my husband's hands, and I thought
I was happy. Alas! was J '! I soon found
that Infidelity stmck at the roots of domestic
bappines.s. That unbelief did not cast out
suspicion. I was watched ; detained from all
places that I loved ; told that women were
mnde to be the playthings of men, and when
my babe was born, she hardly received the
kiss of welcome from one who avowed openly that all he had ever loved of the mother
was her money. I was too proud to let my
grief be known, and my husband was as well
received in the world as ever. He could
smile as sweetly as ever in public, and who·
wished for more 1 Not the gay wodd who

FOR CTIII.DRF.N.

125

once bowed to me or my wealth. But enough
of this. About two yen.rs since, iVIr. Neal
dropped su~rle1~ly dead at an evening party,
and upon wmdmg up his affairs it was found
that he h~d spent all which had come to him
with me, and all which my fother had left for
my child, of whom he was guardian. We
were turned from the house, which had descended from my father to my child but
which her father had squandered.
had
but our clothes allowed . us, for my husband
had wronged many, and we had no one to
speak for us. So we went to some who had
pretended to ~e our friends, but how coldly
were we rece1ved ! For my child's sake I
bore much, but after a year spent with different persons, we had no one to receive us.
Our clothes were almost gone. We could
get no work, and were at last reduced to
wander, in hop~s some one would relie;e ns.
When my poor child begged, she often received only abuse, and for the last week we
.
'
have been literally sta1;ving. We should
have died, as the beasts, with no one to close
om eyes; and for me, what a fotnrity ! · bad
uot God ordered it that vour child should .
see us. And praised be i1is name, he has

W:

l26

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PAl\IILl.AR TAU;;;

redeemed my soul forever !" She sunk back
exhausted ' . and soon fell into a deep sleep,
from which shc only waked to utter the
name of h er mother and then was at peace
forever. .l\lary recovered after some time,
and seemed to he foll of gratitude to God,
for rescuing her from the fate which had
seemed inevitable. She became a pious, useful member of sol'i cty, and with the tears
she shed for her 111olltcr, mingled fervent
thanks for 1hc mercy which allowed her
space for rcpcntaucc. ::Ur. H. returned to
his family, nn<l his store was still blessed,
1111d his cup wa.~ still fnll, when at an advanced age · God cnlk<I him and his partner to leave the circle of grand-children,
who were springing up like olive bnu1ch"" around the tnhlc of Ellen, who carried
i1110 all 11ir. clntil'R of life the acti,•c piety and gocd ,1•11 sr~ wlii('h had distinguish1•d h<'r as a child .

FOR CHif,DRf:N.

•r A L Fs

127

X XIV.

THF. SCHOOJ, COMPOSITION.

"MoTHEll, what shall I do for a composition? I do so hate them : they are all
alike : and I don't know what to write
about," said Ellen Hamilton, one Saturday
afternoon. "How can I help you, my love,"
said l\Irs. H., "you surely do not wish me
to wri tc for you ?" " 0 no, mother ; for
that would be deceiving, and all deceit is
wicked. But if you would only give me
a subject, and a few ideas to begin with,
I could do it myself" " If I gave you the
ideas, would it not .be the same as though
I put them into words ? Let me hear your
last composition, and I will perhaps propose a subject for you." "Last week Mrs.
Hale gave us Industry, and you would have
laughed to hear the compositions : they
were all alike: I nm sme I did not copy
miue, nur <lid any one sec it until it WM
read, but the whole twelve were almost exactly the same ; some had put in a few
words more .t han the others, but thev · ,1;r1

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128

f' AM IL !Alt T .u.t;s

not mean much. I will «'ad you mine :
!\lr.i. Hale ~"lid it wns one of the be.st, but
it is so stupid, I cannot bear lo write rnc_h
thini,r,. WI' arc to choo.;c a suhJl'i?t tlus
time. mul I don't know what to choose."
. Elf,~; 1 lorn11!!ht forward a sheet of pa1x•r, \·cry nic<'ly ~nitten, and l.)('gan to_ rcml:. .
" Imlu!:-try is a \•cry gr?at ,·1rtnl!_: It 1s
one of t}1e great1·st of_ nil \"lrlU~, f~r 11 lends
to Bil others. Hnw important 1s 1t to cultirnte it then, to its g-!'l'atcst possihle extent.
Whnt would th<' world come to, if there
"'ere no industrious people in it?
All
\\'ot1ld i;()(lll fall into min, and dcsolntion
would liOOll con~r the whole earth. \Ve
should all strive to hecomP. one of tbc industrious pi.~plc; for if we do not, we shall
hi· no t>ru"r tlmn drones in a hive, and de,...n-.· to fl(• c :L•t nut from th1• com1111111 ity of
iu.J11:>1ri• 111~ 1• ·N111s . It is 1:~<;.<·11tial thnt we
11hou!d <"m1111w11 c.- th o.• practice of industry
c-nrlv in lil;·, 1i·1r wlw11 011r hahit;; arc form·
ed . i1 will lw · i11 ntin lo co1111uN lhc indot ..1..-1· wl11d1 has ' ~ruw11 witlt onr ~rowth,
nml ~tn · n~thc111~ with our );tn·n~th .'"
0

"Th .. ,-.·. motlit•r, <lo 1101 laugh ut me ;
l\ln<. lfnlr· l1k1·il thr. c11wt11tion ,·cry much, l

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FOR f:Hlf,l>REN.

. y;1 .. .p

129

assure yon." :Mrs. Hamilton smiled, and instead of laughing at her daughter's nttempt,
told her that if she pursned a proper course,
she did not doubt that composition would
soon be easy to her. ;; I do not think it
is best for beginners to attempt to write
upcn an abstmct subject;" sniLl she, "girls
in general, have in their lllinds only the
maxims on such subjects, that have h•·cu
instilled into them, nnd thus nre unavoidably driven into common-plnce. I would advise yon to endeavor to describe some pleasant evening's mnusemcnt, or n rnmhle, telling minutely even trifling thin~, nnd
this will give you a hnhit of cxpre:;.<>ing
yourself in writm~; in time you can add
reflections of your ow11, - lmt let them be
your own, nnd not copied from 1u1y book.
Appropriate quotations are a grcnt omnment
to writing, when not too frequentJy resorted to. I h1l\'e said enough, if you re111€.'mber it, and too much, if you do n<>t, --so
sit down and try your best : Suppose you
describe your ln.~t Snturday <'Vl'Iling's entertainment.'' "I thnnk you, tlenr mother, I
will try; it will be so much cosier, nnd I
shall .not feel it a ta~k nt all : lt mnkcs
g•

#fi\¥..J)Cl¢ ·¢.._ Y2
130
100

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IM1gh now to think how funny the
look•'(): liut I \nil writr• tir.-r . and lau~h

11l11~p

afti~ rward.":· Sile "<11 down. aml fi•r an ho;1r
wa."' wry lmsr with hr.•r pt·11 : :it last she
tum•"'! rmmd :md ~1i1L " :\o"·, if you \\•ill
p!"'t."' It• h<":u nw, m•1ther. awl ti') I me if
tlri' u·ill do for a rorn1~· s i1io11 ; I ar11 ~tire
din,. ha~ 1ww·r h,,·n nny thi11:r like it rend
in roar !Orhool ."' :"n •h<' l><·zan :
· J ,,.<1 ~al1111l : 1~· \\'•• d111i'<I al 11111' n'dork.
ii•r 111r tf;·ar p:in ·nt.s h11rl prn111i~11 mv hrothe~
1111<! 111p.d1· 1!1;11 w•• ~lrnuld 1·i~i1 ;,ur co11i.ms. who hn: al.~ut ti1«' 111il•·s in rh<' country. \\'r-, I m"'1n t.roi1lwr a11d l. did 1101 cnt
m11d1. I f•fl'llrllSI' rn11 , fiir w1• lmew that WC
llti0t1ld L"!t fniit llll<I hl·rriL'5, :md fn·~h hurter
111 pl,.nty where WI.! WCI\~ 1oinJt.
\\'hcu we
,..,., . front 1Jw l:ihle, W•! put on cmr hnts,
nnrl "., .,,. v•·r~· 1m1>:1lir•111 tilr 1l1P l'arringc to
I•• hrou~hr n•und . It 1·:i111c at lw>I. 1tnd
l.'11clc J:..-k l:r11~l11~I ;L~ he ll't clow;1 1J 1e
"''l''" 1111d s:wl, ·,\Ii, ;\11ss Ellc11, \'Oil in
Kll « h hurry.: p•11 "" \ra11t 10 l'Olll~! huck
lh1111:.>l1.' I k111·w 1'1111 as m·ll :~~ Ii~; !:O I
1:111;:1 . r ·~I ''"'- n111t :o-:1irl. · l'l1·•L'.. dri\·e fosr
l :,wk .l:wk .' ' Ah,' ":11d 111·, 'what. J\la.'i.SI:
·'-"Y ! ··lll'y !' 1-'nther Ultd 1111ithcr omic out

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131

and 1\'t~ W<.'fC off n:•ry qnic!dy: l_:ncfcJack
did ur i \'l~ fa!'t-he is a good S<'rrnllL that
is n ti1ct. and ~hall neYcr want \\' hile I ha,·c
anr tliin:r. \Ye •1rriwd nt Aunt Elli~'s
house-I do Ion' that house; we got out
at the ;!'al<', Md 11-alked throug-h such n

pwtty t101n•r !':1rden to the frt>lll piazza.scat 011 cacl1 sidt~ of it. nnd a
hone:·suddc rn11 s o\·c r th1.• lnuicc. . O. it is

Th 1.' J1! j,; :i

a

S \\' 1!·...:,

~hacl~-, cool pince : the hall . runs

thro•uh the honsr>, and there are two rooms
ot> each ~itlc of it: !hem am two more
.-00111• 11p stairs : the back piazz..'\ runs along
1hc whole of the back part of the house ;
;ind there is the cnol wcll-ho11sc ..- J10w I
lov1~ to· <':lt strnwb!'r;ies :itHl 1' n ,a111 there!
\Veit. Co11 ~ i11 ..\1111 mul Ja11r, Frank and
Susan , ran lo 111l'l't tts, and lilllc Edward
came after ; ;\Io111ma Dinnh hnd the little
Eliza in her :mus: such n time you never saw -- we w e re all so happy!
I forget how father mid mother met Uncle and
Aunt; 11111 l know I hnd :;11 much kissing to do. t.llat when it w:L'< ove~, the re
tlll' old liilks w ern sit1i11g i11 the piaz;r.a,
smiling- to set• us cl1ildre11. \Ve i-at down

for a whil~,

11111

sunu

pill on our

~ un-

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132

.

W< L 411

FAYllILIAR TALE>;

bonnets and went ·into the 'door~yard :'there were the tmkeys and ducks and hens :
we looked at them for a while, and spoke
to all the servants, for they are always glad
to ·l ice us : then we went into the pasture
where the sheep we~; w11 sat down under
a tree : pretty soon Frank S11id, 'Only see,
cousio, how the sheep almost :>'um their eyes;
don't you suppose that the sun hun; them?'
'I don't knO\\·, I am sn re;' said '!, ·. I never notice.d it hcfore.' So he got up an~ ran
otf: pretty soon he came back with so 11e
large collard le:m:s and some string : 'Wha,
are you going-to do with those collard leaves?'
said I, ' 0 , I nm goipg 10 make bonnets for
the poor sheep ;' said he, 'for I kllow the

sun hurts thenL' So he and William caught
several, and tied the lea\•cs on for bonne,ts :
the crc:itur<;~ did not know what to malte
of it; they tril'd to eat them, hut their moutlis
would uol tur11 over; so .they ran about

sometime with them on, 1ill nt last they ate
them from each other's heads. William
tried to cnlch the old ra111, ifto put n. bortnet 011 him j but he soon maue him quit
that, for lw butted nt him nnd laid him fiat.
Willie laughc<l, and said 'the ram might

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FOR nHLDJlEN·

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133

burn his c:--es out before he made him another bonnet.' The sheep did look so comically, with their sun-bonnets on. Cousin
Susan thought the wool ought to be whiter
for them.
When W(' were tired of seeing
them piny, we went into the house and had
rome of the be~t fmil, arnl such nice cornbread nnd fn~h butter: the hominy wns
\Vhite ac:: snow, and the chickl'n "·as !'O tender.
'Ve made up for our slight dinner,
and were sorry cnoul-?'h, l n.c::sun• you, when
the time came to l!O liouw. So was Uncle
Jack, for his wilt~ hdon~ lo Aunt Bilis ;
but he went back at ui;rht mad stayro, ns
be always docs. till llondny morning. He
bas !?'01 a ni<·e bahv. :1ll(lt1 t a month old,
and '1lC told 111t' tc>-~lay hP wa.'< going to
nnme it ati(•r 11ie. Elkn: :;o l gnve him
a frock and cnp lo\)t this week, and my
\lCX.t week's pocket 1ooney will buy a necklar.c for it."
" There, mother, will thnt do for n com1..Jsition? 1 don't know what ~lrs. Hnle
will say 'IO it, for then' wa~ never nny
riling like lt in the school L<.'foro; but I
am so tired of Duty, Industry, Truth, &c.
for subjects, that I am determined to read

,
I···. ·. ·

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~'AMILIAR

· =-S'.. '

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JJ.

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'rAJ.ES

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thi!' if you l\pprovc ir, and set a new fashion for thr~ i.rirll'."
Mrs. l-la111d1011 J10inti!d out some - places
in which rlar. t•xprp;,.<;ions ncc<lc<l altering,
and when Ell•m n~acl it in school on Monday, Mr.:. Hale ~Lid :>lie wished all lhe
girli1 would 1fo the s;11111', •llld she should
not fC"ar hut. :L<; irnod writers woul<l issue
from her sd1ool, :1s from any other in the

T

('It ILDR~:N .

~\LE

135

X XV.

nnoTllEIU.Y KIXDNEsg.

As 1'-TR. G1tn:x w:u; walking onr his
plnntnlion one day, he was 1111wh smpriscd
lo hear the voices of his two sons i11 high

dispute.
" I want the whip, and I will ham it,"
said Frank, who was almlf 11i11c years old.
"Let me hnve ii, now, I tell yon," said
Thomas, who was twdn:, "or it will be

St.:d•!!<.

••

worse for vou."
"Fathe.r said I mig-!11. haw; it, so let it
alone," ogain «i:'Xelaimecl Frank ; and the
sounds of n !<ll'lll!l!le w1 •rt' hrard.
Then
Thomas laughed, tmmtinl!ly, mid said, "Hn,
you thong-ht you WIL~ strongc..~t, clid yon 'l
but I'll tench you nnothcr guess chance thnn
that." F'rauk began to bellow lo11tll}', and
Mr. Green stepped up to his two wrru1gling
children. He was deeply grit·vPcl, for in the
1tbsorbi11~ can~ of his place: a11cJ pc()plc, he
had been contentrd that Iii:-: children had appcnrcd well before him, nrnl sRid good lc:;.~011s
in the Sabbnth-School ; and, cosy rrnm, sup-

W:* ·' ·.-~ ' ~< ~. l!···Y;!! -..U · (~

-

.·t ...<..;e..

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'*' c

.$.,

s;qr-'

I
136

FHIJLUR.

TALF.~

137

streni:.rth ag-ainst his right ; for I did tell him
he mfg-ht l~ve the whip, not once thinking it
would be the cause of n quarrel between
yon.'' ;: 1 1n1S wrong, father, 1md nm sorry
for it," said Thomas, "and will try and re-

po~ that nil wns as frtir as it appeared to

him. He ncYer inquired into the private nets
of his childrc11, not dreaming of their behal'ing ill. Stmck to the heart by the conscq111>ncc~ of hi!I neglect, he hardly knew what
to do. Mr. (irren was a pious 1111111 in his
own heart : he wislwd to do riultt, but he
had not much force of chnrncl<'!', 1111cl liud
nr\·rr inquirro whnt wf'r<' his clnties towards
hi« d1ildn•n. in l"('![anl 111 lllf'ir souls. I\ow
lw folt k1v·11ly tlw con"~)llP.llces of his neglll<:t, nud takinir the cau~ of contention in
his h1md, he bade hi11 C"hildren follow him,
and re111med hornc. He lifted his heart to
God for di reetion, nnd, ll!I 1hough n mist . hnd
14llftl\ from hi'J eyes, his duty lay plain before
him. Anived nt the house, he called bis son
Thom11~ into n room, lllld set , before him his
~in 111 it.~ 1r111• lil!ht.
"Docs }'onr strength,
Th<1111ns, ~in · you the right to opprc!tS your
Lrother 1 ·• Thoma.~ wns much RShamed, for
he WIL~ rt good-h1!art1'tl boy, imd nnswcred
" No, father; but I oll(•ri>tl to 11'1 him hnve
my top. n111I hi! would not; he did not wnnt
tlw whip, lc•r he told .fi111 tn rnrrr it for him."
" Well, my ~.111, 1-'mnk 1rn1y huv~ lx.."Cn wrong,
l111t did that justify you in using your

FOR CHILDRF.N.

member the:>hvmn I learned last Sunday, in
'

I

"i

future."
'~rill hear you say it aftN I have
spoken with Frank,"' said l\Jr. G. "Go and
rail him." Fr:-ink came in, looking down upon the floor, with his fingers in his month,
and Ycry sulky ; for he wns rnther inclined to
resist all show of authority. ""'\Yell, my son,
can you account for what I henrd this momin0' '111 -lfd Mr. G. "Yes/' said Frnnk,
"~- <?~
_ "ff·
· ·. ted the whip you _t<)ld me I 1:1ight
ba.iez~J would not gm~ 1t to h11n ; so he
{o~f~ and took it." " \\' e will ll't Tom
ai~ for the present," saill :\Ir. G., " mid you
may tell me why you would not let Tom
have the whip." · : ~'-~,lll;llOO it," said Frnnk
snlkilv. "'l'hadl:i<ifirur.," ~nid Mr. G, "or
why did you hidl:un carry it for yon '! .,
Frank, who 1ho\1i.rht his father had hcnrd
him, knew not what to s11y. lie twistc<l ~nd
turned . uud ut la!<t ~aid, '·You tolii me I nught
have
aud l did not know that you woulcl
make m1~ give it to Torn without I chose to."

i;,

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138

l•' OR CHILDREN.

FAMILIAR TALF.S

Frank was unsubdued, but Mr. G. continued
mildly. "Do you never do any thing unless
you are obliged to, then? I have much mistaken your disposition, if such is the feelin<r
at the bottom of your heart! Can it be po;_
sihle that you can have such a .mind against
yom hrother, who last summer sat by your
side, fanned yon, told you stories, and brought
forward every thing- iu his power to cheer
your sickness ; is snch yonr gratitude? Not
willing that he slionld enjoy what you did
not want yonr~clP Fie! my son, I cannot
believe it." The tears bco·nn to flow down
Frank's ch~eks, for he well rcmc*red his
brother's kindness to which his bi ·. . ···· luded, and was ashamed of his selfis ..
.,
G. saw that he ww; tonchcd and~· ·'
. -· ·
into the room, wns pleased to see ili
thc111sclws into e;ich ::Oiher's imns, and promise to lie kinder in futili-6. .After some minutes their emotion subsided, and Mr. G. asked
Tom for his liy11111. He stood up, and in a
clear voice said it was a lesson to play-mates
and brothers ; then he Legan

.throw

" .I ,ittle chilclre11, love ench other.
ls the Llc:-;sed Savior's rule; .
Every little one is brother
To l1is playfellow nt school.

139

" vVe'rc :ill children of one Fr.ther,
'l'he great God, who reigns above;
Shall we quarrel? no -much rather
vVe would be like Him-ull love.
"He has placed us here fogether,
That we may be good and kind ;
He is ever watchin2', whether
. W c are of one h;art and mind.
"Who is strono·er than the other?
He should b~ the weak one's friend ;
Who's more playthings than his brother ?
He'll delight to give and lend.

"Children, who are-like the Savior,
' ~ , .·Give kind looks and gentle woTds;

And always by their good hehavior,
They are known to be the Lord's."
"and if that is good for little. children, it is
'
· Tom, " an d I
the same
for large ones," smd
will try to bear it in nund in future." "And
I ," said Frank, " if yo11, ~vill teach it to me."
So they sat together, ;md were deeply en~a­
ged in their hymn, until the bell mn~ for dm~
ner,

- . ·.41Jl!'::'!S ~-

]40

·4

. . ... '·or··

PUfll.IAR TALE!':

FOR CHILDREN.

TALE XXVI.
PRA Yll"G WITH THE

HEAil'!' .

)fatty Coop1,;a was the child of pious parent~,

who lo\·cd her too well to allow bad
habit<; and feelings to grow unchecked in
her heart. She was early taught to pray,
and she profited hy the attentions bestowed
upon her. It was pleasant to hear her
young voice caroling praises to her maker,
as she tripped along to school, with her kettle of dinner in one hand and her books in
the other. She was so dilig-cnt in her. lessons that she was generally- at the head of
her class, and her teacher loved her very
much . W'hcn she was about six years old,
her cousin; Ellen Sanford; came to spend
the summer l1oli<lays with her. 'I'hey played together n~ry hnppily all the first day,
and when nig-IJt eame, retired to her room.
They wen: to occupy the same room, which
hud two nice snug- hc<ls in it , with mnsketoo nettings ornr them. "0, whut a pretty
room," said Ellen ; "it smells of the roses
so sweetly !-· -T should like to sleep here

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141

always." She prattled on until Sally had
undressed them, and was about to jum.p into bed, when Mary said, "You have not
prayed, Ellen !" "0, I forgot,'' Said Ellen ;
so she knelt down and said the Lord's
Prayer over as fast as she could, and then
got up again. Ma1y took her Bible and read
a chapter, and Sally listened attentively,
then she knelt down, and prayed God to
renew her heart, and forgive her sins, and
teach her the right way which would bring
her to heaven, closing with the Lord's
Prayer. When Sallr was gone, the little
girls lay sometime without speaking ; ~t last
Ellen said, "1 don't see the use of bemg so
particular tO -saY our prayers every night :
I am sure ·f don't know the meaning of
half that is in it." " O, Ellen, do not say
so," said.,' ~, "for the hymn says" WHEN daily I kneel down to pray,
As I am taught to do,
God does not care (or what I say,
Unless I feel it t.Oo.
Yet foolish thoughts my" heart beguile,
And when I pray or. sing,
I'm often thinking, all the while,
About some other thing.

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142

FAMILIAR TALJ.;S

Oh let me nc-.-er,

nen~r

FOR CHILDREN.

dare

To ad a trifler's part,
Or think that God will ht'ar a prayl'r,
\Vhich comes not from tlw hrart."

And l1ow dreadful it would I)(• for God not
ttJ care for our prayers.''

"''"'I\"

hn lakes

care nf11s all the !'<tlllP. tlmi't Ju~ 7:. ~aid Ellen . i\lary \\'IL'i shrwl;r.d. She !ind IH'W'T
!ward ;111y <ill<' :<fK'ak in 1h:1t ma1111rr IJ<'forc,
nnd harcll\· kucw what In ~a\'. But she
co;1ld not ·,.,, hrr cow.i11, wl1(•;11 slw lon·d
nlr<'aily, rn111in11P in ~11d1 f'fror, if ~h·· could
01x·,11 lwr ('yc'S.
::io .~he lili('d lrer l1eart to
God, then 1~skcd Ellr11 if she knew who
made her '! and for what purpose ~lw wns
made 1 nnd them, in her
lj,mplc lltnnl!C'r. r>'.\'fllnin<'li to her the .~·
man nnd
the 11r•1·pssity of pr:1ycr. Ei'lmt·'ltrld she had
11.-:n·r heard this l••li1w. Hrr motlwr mncle
her s.'ly 1h1• Lord's Prayer c\·cry ni,l('lit and
niorning: liut slie had ne~·"r thou!!ht of
Jin1ri11i.; with her heart, or of :i.-:kiu;r God
to help her to <lo right.
'l'hry 17ty for

om.:

souw 1i1111~ tnlkiug-, nnd

al last 1-:llrn proposrd th:11 llll'y sh~nild rise au<I kned down
togr.tlwr, nwl she nw<lc lier tir.<t feeble effort lo pray. .She sL'<Jlllt'tl to foe! nt once

_;~

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143

all that l\fory lmd said, and the next day
she learned the hymn that :\forr had repeated that night, and during the summer
her yonng heart appea.red to grow in grace,
and she bade fair to be a shinin<T lirrht in
cl~~th ""carnr,
the world :. bnt the next rear
.
nnd cnt do\vn thi:s sweet flower, that hnd
so lately turned its gnzr towanls hcnnn.
!Io11• happy \\·ns Ellen thm, and how happy too \ms .\lary, whrn she vi:<itl'CI her dying
consin, that she hacl been the instmment

of conclncting- her to the tl1ronc of g-rncc.
The Cl't'ning- before El!C11 died, she sang,
with a fechlc yoiccto thee, my Goel, this 11i!Jht,
For all the blessings of Ilic light;
. Keep me, oh keep me, h:i11g of king~,
Beneath thine own nlmighty wings.
" GL01t \-

Forgi\·c me, Lord, for thy denr Son,
The ill thnt I this clny hnvc done;

'I'hat with the world, myself and thee,
I, ere I sleep, nt pence may· l.>t'.
Teach me to live, that I may <lrend
The graYc as little a~ n1y bed;
Tench me to die, that so I muy
Hi!:e joyful at the judgment day."

·.

·

, · w-.-~·:··#f??r~--;,--:·

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144

FAMILIAR TALES

She died without pain, and, to the last,
was willinu to answer the call which
would sho; her the face of her God, and
place her forever near his throne.

TALE XXVII.
'l'HE PRIDE OF WEALTH.

·Foutt little girls were walking together
one evening. The sun was down and they
had no bonnet<> · on, but each one had their
hair braided and tied with ribbon. They
had reached the open ground near the "·oods,
when a litlle girl came out of n. house and
said, ".!\fay I go with you ?" She was one
C?f their school mates. Her father was poor,
and worked hard for .his living. He sent
her to school, and her mother took pains
to keep her nice and clean, so that she need
never be nshnmed of her appearance. ller
frocks were all calico, and very · plain ; but
they wci·e always whole and clean. Her
hair was braided riieely, but she had no
ribbon to tie it; so a piece ·of black thread
answered the purpose. Her manners were .
so gentle, her teniper so 'mild, and she was
so willing to oblige any who needed h~r
s·erviCes, · that most · of her playmates loved.
her. But a few, rihd among them one · of
the four now walking, · thought, because

g

·•

146

FAMILIAR 'CAI.ES

they dressed finer than Ella Deane, that
th <!Y themsdn.'!' were hcttrr.
Jane Cunis'
parents had nercr cared for any thing hut
show, an<l of course June had imbibed all
the evil feelings which the conduct of such
parents woulfl naturally produce.
So she
spoke up at once:
"Pretty well too, l\li>s Forward ; do you
think we ca11 :£Cl no bcll<>r than you to
walk with u~ ?''
Poor Ella hail 11ot s<·e11 Janc, a.<1 she was
behind the oth<!l"1", a11cl ~hrnnk litlf' k with
tears in her r~yc~, 11po11 rt.T1:i1·i11g ~o sharp
an iuu;wer ; hut Sarah I la111iltn11 and Hel en

Lamar, who were tozethcr, went forn·nrd
to tho poor girl, and tuking each a hand,

f

said,

"Yes, Elin, we shall be glnd to hnve you

go, for no 111w is more amiable than you,
I am sure, :Uld we love you . dearly."
But Ella said, " Pcrhnps Jane Curtis will
not like it."
" Then she may walk by herself," said
Helen. "If our compnnions are not good
enough for her, she can quit as soon as she
likes.
We did not a.sk her to come with
us, but she ran after us, because our fathers

FOR \lJILDll.F::\".

147

hnppen to be richer ·thru1 hers.
Ir is very
foolish, I am sure, to think so mu~h of

riche-"."
"'Yes,"' said Sarah " th<> hymn · s.:tys -·

h

a modest lmmble mind.
•
God himself "·ill t:ikr <if.li<Yht ·
Bnt thr prom! and ha11~h1,- flnd'
They ar0 linrf'fol in i1is ·si~ht.
Jesus Christ was meek and mild
.
And no a11~1y tho11~hts allow'd:
Oh, then, ~hall a little child
·
Dare to he pcn'<'l"S(' aud proud 1

'

This, indero. sltonld ner<'r I><' :
Lord, forbid it, we <'1111'1.'a!: .
Grnnt thnt nil mny learn (lf thce.
That humility i~ s11•1·i.·t.

I should he afraid to be proud of riches,
for they take thrmseh·cs wing:.. uud fly mrn;-,
nnd who cn n tell whose turn it mar be
next to n~rd cn'n Ill<' 111·rc&c;;1rics of lifo.
But \l"C will go 011, for .lnlll.' is 111 •:1rly ot1t
0

of sight."
In the menu time, Jane had said to thr

little girl with hC'r,
" C.omc, Susnn, let 11 s i:rn on ; T nm ~11 re

. . , .,_. -. . . . . . ...,_. .
..,...,~

-~
. ~
- ~

-~}·

r~,: ·

) ."

"'

.f

FOil CHILDJl.ION.

or she would get hurt; but Jane pretended not to hear, and kept oi1.. They were
going to sec a woman who lived on~r the

you and I don't wnnt EUa Deane's company, and if thorn crirls knew hmv mu.ch
rhev lowcr<"'. cl thrm <cl\•cs hv wa~king with
h!:;, they.. wou'.d not let b~r go. l\lother
nlways
. 1clls me not to .cro ,\;ith any hnt
rich !!iris: for we arc not so rich ns a
ir~at 1na11.y, and if I c-0 with poor girl5,
ffilks will think the olhers look clown on

.

me."
811<an PdP1~. who wa.' as well off as
Jnw·. likl'<l tlwse Sl"'11timv11t.>. though her
own mntliPr oil1'n told hC' r i.:hc ~hn1~ld not
be prn11d. .She JW\"<'r had !tad religious
instrn clio11s ~uitr:i.l to her capacity, and could
not <letccl the folly of" Ja1a:"s tnlk.
They ha<l odvan~ed some way when the
other.; ~<·I. out,· and, determined not to he
o\"t'rtakPIL thqr kept on.
ln the 111cnn
ti1w 1-: 11 a11tl fl(·r rn111panin11s walk1•il on,
1111d hacl rwarly n•adwd JnllB nml S11s;m.
Thi~ tlwy cl1'lc·rnri111·d to pn•\·e11t, and t11n1f'Ci frorn tlw rnad intn a ~id" path. Now
n errr>k ra11 ano~s th<' mild , IH'ar hy, and
tl11' n· 11·as a !!"ond hrid!!<' m ·f'f it , hnt at the
sid1· palh then: WiL" ouly Ila~ tnrnk of n
tree.
H<'ll'll callr.d to Jnnc! not to go that w11y,

·,

· ~:

1

FAMILIAR TA.LES

.~ ·-

creek, and who was very fond of harinf '
children visit her. She hnd a nice peach
Orchard, and those \\;ho· visited her alwayil- ·
ha~ a fine •.rent. - Helen,. Sarah an~ Ell·J·
stmd some tune on the bn<lgc lookmg at
the watf'r to sec how· fast ii ran, and. talkinz ol the zoo<lness of Go<l, ih providinr(."
au- article
ncccsmry as wntct in snch ·
abundance.
As tln•v · !cfr tlie brid!!r> to ·
p::iss on to the old l;dy's house, the}' ~heard
a terrible ~cream, and looking up the creek;
saw Jane Cnrtis in the water floating down ·
the str.~nrn.' scrcaminQ".
hut nsinQ'.
·· '
·- no· dfotts .
to &·we herself.
Sarah nud Helen screamed, lmt Ella, who had a great deal of pre- .
senct> of mind, reco!Jcctcd thnt just below
th() bridg-e there was an eddy, whicli "'ould
bring Jane ncnr the shore. So saying, -- ·
" come, we will save her," she rnn to the ·
plncc, followed by her compnnious. Slio
gm·e her hand to Helen, irnd told Sari\h
to cling to n tree that grew near tl1c edge
and Ht:!cn to hold by her, then (earlcssll.,
1teppin~ into tile water until it wll!I up to

w

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160

. . · ~....,..-. : ~

FAMlLIAR TALES

hr.r chin, was just in time to catch hold
of Jll,Dc's finr. frock, and turning, dragged
he~ to the bank, where the others too took
holcl of bcr, aml soon had her on the dry
ground. At first Jane did nothing but
scream and cry, bnt Ella haYing seen her
safe, ran to the o!d lndv's house and bcgIler to let . one of her men f!O to the
c~k. ::\Jrs. Appk·ton was frightened cnongh,
you niny s11ppn>c ·, lo i-c-e a cl1i1'1 all drippin!4 ru:-!t inro the house: liut as soon as
Ella :-:p<•ke she rrcognizcd lwr, and callin{!'
Peter to fol!uw, walk<·d tts fo."t ns she could
to the but1k, wht•rc by this tinic Jane was
sitting up, und Susan by hrr. She hardly
I~ al Ella, to whom she was ind~btcd
for her lifo, and Peter, taking her in his
nmu-:. rarri cd her nt once to the house,
whc: n. ~ho ll•L'-' wrupped in n blanket and
pm to !l<.'<l 1mril lier clothes could he dried.
F.!111 :ill-0 rhnnw·cl her g-o.rments for soTJJ6.
which hud lw!onircd t~ .\Ir.<. Appleton's
daughter, nnd lfrkn took off lier shoes nnd
s!ockin1:s lo dry. und then •hey talked the
mntkr O\'l)r. 'l'hc girls conl<i hurclly help
crying-, oul they were so hnppy thnt they
C:Ould not, 111111 it took several peaches to

fcd

.. ...._,.,.,.
_"':,,,

.,_,,., · ~

f
l

l'OR CHILDREl'f.

151

earry the lumps down iu their throats.
After all their clothes were dried, ::\Irs. Appleton had her little pl~asure wagon got
out, and her old grey hon;c harnessed, and
telling the gds they had l:nd exercisr enough
for one evening, bid them good bye, aJ~d
they went to the gate. Jane felt some
returns of her fooli sh vanity, when she MW
that she was to go hon~ in a wagon ;
but no one minded her hesitation, :uid with
many a laugh, and much hnppy feeling,
they retnrne<l to town. The next morning- l\ln;. Curtis called in her cnrrirnre and
offered Ella ten dollars, with mru1y 'thanks
of ceremony. Mrs. Denne did not answer,
but Ella snid,
" Indeed, mn'am, I did not Sit.VO her life
for money."
Mrs . Curtis would hn\·e left it upon o table, saying she did not like to remain under an obligation when she could avoid it.
This raised tho spirit of Mrs. Denne, who
nsked her if she thon!?ht her child's life
could be paid for by that sum; u..c;suring
her nt the same time, that if she left it, it
would be sent to her house. Mrs. Curtis
wns angry, and
of uprowt pridl•, re-

l.alkina-

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152

f

~

FAN:ILU.R TALES

l

turned the note to her . purse and ihtered ·
her carriage.
.;
Mrs. Deane wa8~i: sorry that she had allowed her feelings to hurry her into incivility, but felt that Mrs. C. had deserved
the rebuke. Mrs. Lamar and l\lrs. Hamilton praised the conduct of Ella very much
when their daughters related it to them,
and gave their ~ordial approbation to the
friendship which sprung np hetween the
three girls, contriving in many ways to
confer benefits upon Elin, without wounding her delicacy or independence.
Many a walk did they a fterwards enjoy

over the bridge, and many times did l\lrs.
Appleton observe the character of Ella, for
whom she conceived n deep regard ; and
when, after some years she was called from
this world, having no near relations, she
left all her prop<'rty to Ella, who was l1S
gentle in her prosper!ty as she had nhn1y!t
beeu, and befriended poqr Jane Cnrtis, whose

father and mother were both dend, leaving
her nothing to <lepc.ncl upon, but a weak
mind and hands unused to do nny thing
useful. Poor girl, she \\ras much to be pitied, for the mortifications which daily met

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1

FOR. CHlLDllEl'f.

f

163

her i11 her path, had power to pierce her
in her most nilncrablc part. She died at
lh :) n!!(' or tW<'llfy-l\\"(1 1 lamcntrd hy 110 one,
hut Wt·pt f(1r hy th~ kind he:ntcd Ella, who
liad laLor~d long nml earnestly to i1iduce
her to secure 11 hope for 11 futnre world.

FAMILIAR TALE;!'

t;;oii
.

·~·::

TALE XXVIII,

,.~

FlLIAL PIETY.
,TULIA. EMMONS was a sweet child, about
nine years old. Her temper was so docile
that every one loved her. The instructions of her mother took root and flourish"'
ed in her heart. She delighted to perform
acts of charity, and many a dainty morsel
found its way from her hands to those of
.
'
the suffering poor, Often would she re"'
serve some nicety from her own meal, for
some one whom she knew could not pro,.
cure it for herself. . l\'Irs. Emmons was taken very sick, and Mr. E. was desirous .. of
sending Julia to a friend's house, for fear
that she might, with the thoughtlessness
natural to children, disturb her mother.But Julia begged with such eamestness to
be permitted to stay, that her wishes were
granted. During the first days of her moth~
er's danger, she sat in the adjoinino- room
with her book; but she did not real much
for her mind was with her mother. Sh:
would s~al to the door and listen, to ca,td~

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155

the sound of her mother's voice; and question every one who came out whether she
was not better. After a few days of sus•
pense the danger was past, and Julia was
admitted to see her mother, upon promising
~ot to disturb her by giving way to her
feelings. She was much shocked, to see
the face she loved so very pa.le, and the
tears rolled down her cheeks ; but she suppressed her sighs, and creeping on tip-toe
to the bed side, kissed her mother without.
speaking, and sat down by her, holding the
pale hand in her own. How thankful her
heart wa-; to God, that that dear parent was
spared, to watch over her who needed a
guardian so much. It would have pleased
you to see the dear child, during the days
of her mother's weakness, sitting near watch.
'
mg every turn of her countenance and anticipating every wish, and at last, when her
mother came down stairs, and rode out for
exercise nnd air, her very soul seemed fill"
ed with delight. Do you, my little read·
ers, feel towards your mother the love. of
this little gitl 1

THIS MATERW.. MAY BE

BEST copy AVAILABLE

PROTECTEt> BY COPYRIGHT
LNN £TITLE 17, U.S. COOEJ

Valuable School Books

"*'"

PUBLISHED BY

BENJAMIN F. GRIFFIN,
MACON, CGA.J
A

MANUAL OF BO'l'ANY,

HARVARD COLLEGE
LIBRARY

Adapted to the productions of the Southern Sta~, in
hvo parts. Part 1.-Vegetablc Anatomy o.nd Physiology.
Part II.-Descriptive Botany. Arranged on the Natural
System, preceded by an Annalysis.

By Jmrn

DARBY,

A. M.

"A complete, and well arranged work, _o n the beautiful a:µ.d at~Ct.
ive selenee of plants and tlowers, wb.ieh cannot fail to prove.a·llil!fi1y ·
tl9ef111 manual to the Southern studeD.i;;'1.l:[~iJUiy·29•

..... -: . .- '.

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. .<,: .

THE SOUTHERN FIRS'i' CLASS BOOK ;
Or, Exercises in Rcacling an<l Declamation.
Bv M. M. MAsoN, A. B.
"Having carefully examined tho Southern Fim Clas.• Book, It af.
fords me rnuehpleasure to recomrnei:idit to public patronage. Its.tttil.
mmt could scarcely fail of securing ·to It a most favorable i:ec~ .
!18 pact.icu\ar adaptation to Southern Schools I tlilnlc an- addit~bill,..
reason for 118 general and speedy adoption.
· '
·: ·· '."': ,. .
•·NATHAN LONGFELLoW~ ', .. :
"Principal of tho Female High School, Scott.iboro•,li ··

THE GIFT OF

EDWARD PERCIVAL MERRITI
OP BOSTON

THESOUTHERNSECONDCLASSBOOK;

a ... of 1882

Designed for the Middle Class, in the Sc!ioofa of the
Southern and \Vestcrn States.
1.,
f

11:~;
I
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Bv

MRs.

S.AnAn L .

GRIFFIN.

"Gso"Rou. FaMALE CoLLEOB, February 1840.

"The Southern Second CJ.,,. Book Is a compllailon judiciously selected, and aptly designed to catch the attention, •w..ken ihe lnlelea
&lid promote th.• love of reading among Iha cbilclren for whoee benefit

·. :~

----JtJU .-,.,.

~k- · -- ·

-,.V.U.UAllLE SCHOOL BOOKS·

ii

It has been prepartd. Without malting any ostentatious clairru1 to ex•
tnordinary merit-to e:otclusive preference, ii. is yet enti~lcd on many
comideratioDll to circulation and use. We hope the toil of the com·
pl\erwlll meet with its just rewar<i in the general ado-pUon of.\he work
by the Sou\hern Schoola..
GEORGE F . PJERCE, Pree't.

W. H. ELLISON, Prof.

THE SOUTHERN THIRD CLASS BOOK;
Designed for the Y oungcr Classes in the Schools of the
Southern and Western States.
BY MRs. SARAH L . GRIFFIN .

,;__

MACON, (Georgia,) April JO, JS{O.
Mr. B. P. Griffin: Whether for 1hc School or Nursery, I think the

i

l

Southern Third Class Book one of ihc be-st 1iLtl e manua.\s r.ver printed;
and du respectfully rccommeutl it to every Mother ::i.nd Teachel'•
It seem5 to have been compiled strictly on the philosophical principle \n juveni1A instmctioA, that" little thin.~~ are great lu littlo men,"
and the m nsl Jmpot1ant tenets in morals arc here fouud dressed in the
atmplest gatb j in languago 1rnm, hut. well adapted to yolithfu1 capa·

J

cilf•

GEO. P. COOPER.

FAMILIAR

TALES

FOR

THE SOUTHERN PRIMARY ·- READER;
Or, Child's First Book.

Consisting of Progressive Les-

sons, in words of One and Two Syllables.
BY

Mns.

SARAH

L.

GRIFFIN.

CHILD'REN.

Thia iitU"e work is expre,is\y intended for tho Beginner. Not only
the Alphabet, but the whole book is prin1ed inn v ery legi ble type,
nodering it perfecliy easy for the little learner to distinguish at once

lhe form of tho Jette~.

Il·
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