'proverb-picture.' Proverbs are meant to do people good, or give them
a lesson; but Maggie and Bessie and I think pictures make 'em plainer.
This is a proverb that Maggie made up. Here is a man pouring milk into
a trough what the pigs eat out of, and this pig,"--directing Mabel's
attention to a creature without any legs, those four members which
were supposed to belong to him lying scattered in all directions over
the picture, while long streaks intended to represent floods of tears
poured from his eyes,--"and this pig was so greedy that he ran as fast
as he could to the end of the trough where he fought the man was going
to pour the milk. But the man fought he'd serve him right, and so he
went to the ofer end and poured the milk in there; and when the pig
tried to run there, his legs were so tired they all fell off; so he
couldn't get any milk, and he cried so much he 'most drowned himself.
And the proverb of the picture is, 'The greedy pig don't get much,
after all.' When pigs or other people are greedy, their legs gen'ally
come off, or other accidents; and if they don't, people think they're
very horrid, any way. Do you know who the greedy pig is meant for?"
Mabel had a pretty clear idea, and was not pleased, which was not
at all strange; but her curiosity was excited respecting the other
picture, and she determined to satisfy it before she made any
disturbance.
"What is this picture?" she asked, pouting, but taking no farther
notice of Belle's question.
In the second sketch a number of square and triangular bodies, with
little, round heads, and long, sprawling legs and arms, were grouped
together in the wildest confusion at the two ends of the picture, which
extended the whole length of the sheet. In the middle was an object
supposed to represent a carriage, the like whereof was never contrived
by any coach-maker upon the face of the earth; while a horse, in the
same condition as the pig before mentioned,--namely, with all his
legs broken off,--lay upon the ground; his mate, looking much like a
chair turned upside down, standing by, disconsolate. But the chief
interest of the picture was intended to lie in the central figure,
in which a small child, with very short skirts and very long limbs,
was represented as dancing wildly about, with not rivers,--as in the
case of the pig,--but cataracts of tears spouting from her eyes. Two
circles, one within the other, stood for her head; the inner one,
nearly as large as the outer, being her mouth, stretched to its utmost
extent. And lest there should be any mistake as to the likeness, below
this figure was printed in large, crooked letters,--
_M A B U R L._
"That," said Belle, more sternly than before, "is a picture about
another proverb that Maggie made up on purpose to be of use to you. The
name of it is, 'All scamper away as fast as they can go from a spoiled
child;' at least, that was what she meant. Here is the spoiled child,
squealing and hollering; there is a poor horse that broke his leg; and
here are all the people in the street running away from her. These
four are policemen, and they were going to take her up; but even the
policemen would not stand her, and ran away too. Even her mother 'came
degusted at her at last, and left her; so she had not a single person
left. And she had no one to give her something to eat, and no one to
put her to bed; so she had to sleep in the gutter, and be starved, and
in the morning she was dead, and all dirty out of the gutter."
"She wasn't either," said Mabel.
"She was too," contradicted Belle.
Mabel made a snatch at the picture, which Belle as quickly drew from
her, so that between them it was torn in two; and Mabel at the same
moment set up the shriek she always gave when she was displeased.
Mr. Powers and Mrs. Walton, their conversation thus suddenly brought to
an end, turned hastily to see what was the matter.
It was a sorry sight that met their eyes. Belle stood looking at her
cousin with a face which, to do her justice, was only intended as the
expression of outraged and offended virtue; while Mabel, shrieking
with passion, was frantically tearing to bits the half of the sheet she
had secured.
"What is it, children? What are you quarrelling about now?" asked both
the parents at once.
Mabel did not, perhaps could not, answer; but Belle spoke up boldly.
"I'm not quarrelling, papa," she said. "I was just trying to give Mabel
a lesson of what might happen to her if she didn't behave herself,
and she was mad about it; and she tore my picture,--my nice, pretty
proverb-picture that I would have given her if she had been good and
improved herself by it. I know Maggie and Bessie would think it very
interesting if they saw it, and now I can't show it to them;" and
Belle held up the torn sheet with a very aggrieved air. "It was only
good intentions, papa; and she went and wouldn't have 'em," she added,
feeling herself almost equal to Maggie Bradford as she made this grand
speech.
Even Mrs. Walton could not help smiling in the midst of her efforts to
quiet the screaming Mabel and lead her from the room.
When they were gone, Mr. Powers took his little daughter on his knee;
but Belle was not satisfied to see that he looked very grave. For a
moment or two neither spoke, Belle not knowing exactly what to say,
although she did wish to excuse herself; while her father seemed to be
thinking.
At last he said,--
"My little girl, how long is this to go on?"
"What, papa?" asked Belle, though she had a pretty clear idea what he
meant.
"This constant quarrelling between you and your cousin. Your aunt
and I are very glad to see one another again; but all our comfort is
destroyed because you and Mabel disagree all the time."
Belle looked rather hurt.
"I'm sure, papa," she said, "I have tried to be good to-day, ever since
I went to Maggie's and Bessie's; and she was a little good too, but
greedy and selfish. And then she was in such a passion when we had
to come home, I fought I'd better try to correct her. And I'm sure I
fought proverb-pictures was a good way to do it, but they just made her
mad. I s'pose I might have known it," she added, with a sigh: "she is
so very bad and spoiled that things that do other children good only
make her worse. See, papa, if this wasn't a nice lesson for her;" and
spreading out the half of the sheet which she held, Belle explained to
her papa the portion of her picture which still remained.
Certainly, Mr. Powers did not find the likeness to Mabel very
flattering, or think it calculated to put her in a good humor with
herself or the little artist. Nevertheless, he smiled a little, which
encouraged Belle, and she went on:--
"I know that child must come to a bad end," she said; "and I shall
never try again to be friends with her, or to do her good,--no, never,
never!"
"Where is the little girl that wanted to be a sunbeam and shine for
Jesus, and show others the way to Him?" asked her father.
Belle hung her head.
"But, papa," she said presently, "you see it's no use with her. I
b'lieve she's the wickedest girl that ever lived, and I don't believe
there's any thing bad she wouldn't do if she had a chance. She took
Baby Annie's chair to-day; and when baby didn't know any better, and
cried for it, Mabel wouldn't give it to her. I think I'll just make up
my mind to leave her be all the rest of her life, and make b'lieve she
isn't my cousin. I wish she stayed to Boston or else to Europe."
"For He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and on the good," said Mr.
Powers, softly.
Belle gave another long, despairing sigh, and laid her head back
against her father's shoulder; but she made no more attempt to excuse
herself or to blame her cousin.
"I will not say that you had not some thought of doing good to Mabel,"
said Mr. Powers; "but you began wrong, Belle. I think you did not have
very kind feelings in your heart, and that you looked only at what was
naughty and perverse in her; and so your picture was not pleasant, and
only made her angry. You and Maggie and Bessie understand and love one
another, and so you take it pleasantly and patiently when one among you
tries this way of helping another in what is right. But I hardly think
that any one of you three, good friends as you are, would have been
very much pleased to have had such a picture made of you."
Belle sat thoughtful a moment, and then answered,--
"Well, no, papa, I don't b'lieve I would have liked it, if Maggie or
Bessie had made a proverb-picture about me slapping Daphne, or being in
a passion, or doing any of those very naughty things I used to do so
much. But, papa, don't you think my patience about Mabel must be 'most
used up?"
"See here," said Mr. Powers, drawing toward him a large Bible which
lay near, and turning over the leaves till he found the words he
wanted,--"see here, dear, listen to these words: 'Charity suffereth
long and is kind, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, beareth all
things, believeth all things, hopeth all things.' I am afraid my little
Belle has not that kind of charity towards her cousin."
"Charity, papa?" said Belle: "charity means giving money and things to
beggars and poor people, doesn't it?"
"Charity here means love," said Mr. Powers,--"love to God and to man,
that love which makes us want to work for Jesus by being gentle and
patient with the faults of others; which will not let us be made angry
by little things; which is not ready to think harm of our friends and
playmates; love which believes and hopes that even those who are very
wrong and naughty may be made better, and which teaches us to take the
pleasantest way of doing this, not showing others their faults in a
manner to pain or anger them, but trying to show them the better way by
an example of kindness and gentleness."
"Um--m--m, no, papa," said Belle, thoughtfully, when her father ceased
speaking: "I don't think I have much of that kind of love-charity to
Mabel,--no, I don't b'lieve I have."
"I fear not," said her papa; "but will you not try for it, my darling?"
"Yes," she answered; "but you couldn't s'pect it would come very quick,
papa. You see I don't know Mabel very well yet, and I guess I don't
care 'bout knowing her any more than I do now. She's so very, very
spoiled, and I b'lieve she'll never be any better."
"'Charity believeth all things, hopeth all things,'" said Mr. Powers.
"Is that in the Bible Proverbs?" asked Belle.
"No, it is not in Proverbs; but I can give you a verse from Proverbs
which may help you: 'A soft answer turneth away wrath.' Wrath means
anger."
"Oh, yes!" said Belle: "I found that out; because to-day, when Mabel
spoke very angry and cross, Bessie answered her very pleasant and nice;
and Mabel looked at her just as if she didn't know what to make of her;
and then she spoke nicely too, and quite behaved herself. I s'pose
Bessie has love-charity for Mabel. Tell me those words again, papa.
I'll learn a little bit of 'em every day till I know 'em all, and try
to do 'em too."
Her father did as she asked; and then, for it was growing late, sent
her away to bed, satisfied that his lesson was taking root, and that
Belle was sorry--though she did not say so--that she had offended Mabel
by her "proverb-picture."
He would have been still more sure of this, and well pleased too, had
he heard his little girl when Daphne was undressing her, and as usual
began to talk of Mabel in a very uncomplimentary way.
"Daffy," said Belle, "I guess we'll have some charity for Mabel, not
beggar-charity, but love-charity, that 'b'lieveth all things, hopeth
all things,' and makes up its mind maybe she will learn better, and be
good, after all."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
VII.
_MABEL'S NEW WHIM._
"Please give me my puf-folio, Daphne," were Belle's first words in the
morning before she was up.
"Puf-folio" stood for port-folio in Belle's English; and the one in
question was greatly prized by her, as were also the contents. It had
been given to her by Harry Bradford, who had also presented one to each
of his little sisters; and was formed of large sheets of pasteboard,
bound and tied together with bright-colored ribbons; Belle's with red,
Bessie's with blue, and Maggie's with purple. To be sure, the binding
and sewing had all been done by Aunt Annie; but the materials had been
furnished from Harry's pocket-money, and the portfolios were regarded
as the most princely gifts, and treasured with great care.
Within were "proverb-pictures" of every variety and in great number,
also many a scrap of paper, and--treasure beyond price!--whole sheets
of fool's-cap for future use.
One of these last Belle drew forth, and sitting up in her bed began
to compose another picture. She was busy with it till Daphne took her
up; and even while the old woman was dressing her she kept making
little rushes at it, putting in a touch here and there till she had it
finished to her satisfaction.
Mabel did not come to breakfast with her uncle and cousin that morning,
but chose to take it with her mamma in her own room.
So little Belle, when the meal was over, asked her papa if she might go
to her cousin.
"No, dear, I think not," said her father. "You and Mabel are better
apart."
"Oh, no, papa!" said Belle; "for I am going to have love-charity for
Mabel, and ask her to have some for me, 'cause maybe I need a little
too. I want to make up with her; and here's a new picture for her that
I b'lieve she will like better than that old, naughty one I oughtn't to
have made last night. Can't I go and be friends?"
Her father examined the picture, to make sure that it could give no
cause for new offence; and, satisfied with her explanation, allowed her
to go with it to Mrs. Walton's room.
Belle knocked, and being told to come in, obeyed. Her aunt was on the
couch, Mabel beside her playing with a doll, and the scowl and pout
with which the latter greeted her cousin were not very encouraging.
But Belle, feeling that she had been wrong herself, was determined
to persevere in "making up" with Mabel; and she said, though rather
timidly,--
"I made you another proverb-picture, Mabel, and"--
"No, no," said Mrs. Walton before she had time to finish her speech:
"we have had trouble enough with your 'proverb-pictures,' Belle: you
and Mabel cannot agree, it seems; and you had better each keep to your
own rooms."
Belle was very much hurt, although she felt this was partly her own
fault; and she turned to go with the tears in her eyes.
When Mrs. Walton saw she was grieved, she was sorry for what she had
said; and she called to the child,--
"Come here then, Belle: I want to speak to you."
Belle hesitated a moment, holding the doorknob, and twisting it back
and forth; but at last she ran over to Mrs. Walton's side, and put her
hand in that which was held out to her.
"I'm sorry I teased Mabel, Aunt Fanny," she said; "and I didn't make
this picture for a lesson to her, but for a lesson to myself, and to
let her see I did want to make up. It's 'most all about me doing
things I ought to Mabel; and I'm going to try to have love-charity, and
do 'em."
"Let's see," said Mabel, slipping off the couch and coming to her
cousin's side, curiosity getting the better of her resentment.
Belle spread out her picture, and explained all its beauties to Mabel.
"That's me, with ugly, naughty lips like I had yesterday, making you,"
she said; "and I oughtn't to do it when I am often very spoiled myself."
"No," said Mabel, gazing with rapt interest upon the drawing, and
already considerably mollified by finding that Belle put her own
failings also in her "proverb-pictures."
"But I don't mean to do it any more, Mabel; but just to try to make you
be good and love me by living good my own self. And now there's you
and me: me letting you have my carved animals, and not being mad even
if you broke one a little bit; but you wouldn't if you could help it,
would you?"
"No, indeed, I wouldn't," said Mabel, very graciously: "let's be
friends again, Belle."
So the quarrel was once again made up, and this time with more good
will on both sides.
"You are a dear child," said Mrs. Walton, and she looked thoughtfully
and lovingly at the warm-hearted little girl, who, when she knew
she had been wrong, was ready to acknowledge it, and to try to make
amends; "and Mabel and I should have been more patient with you in the
beginning. Poor child! It was a sad thing for you to lose your mother
so early."
"Oh! I didn't _lose_ her," said Belle, looking up in her aunt's face
with eyes of innocent surprise.
"How, dear! What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Walton, wondering in her
turn. "Your mamma has gone away from you."
"Yes, but she went to Jesus," answered the child, simply. "You don't
lose something when you know it is in a very safe, happy place with
some one very dear and good to take care of it, even if you can't see
it any more: do you, Aunt Fanny?"
"No, I suppose not," said Mrs. Walton.
"Well, you know mamma has gone to heaven to stay with Jesus, and He's
taking care of her; and by and by papa and I will go there too, and
then we'll see her again; so we didn't _lose_ her, you know. But then
I have to be very good and try to please Jesus, and mind what He says;
and so I know He wants me to have love-charity for Mabel, and try to
not care very much if she does things I don't like. And mamma will be
glad too. Oh, no, Aunt Fanny! I didn't lose my dear mamma: I know where
she is, all safe."
Mrs. Walton drew her to her and kissed her; while Mabel, wondering at
the new softness and sweetness in Belle's face and voice, had forgotten
the picture and stood looking at her.
"All safe!"
Five little graves lay side by side in an English churchyard far away;
and of those who rested beneath, the mother had always spoken as her
"lost darlings." She never called them so again; for were they not
"all safe"? Others had told her the same, others had tried to bring
comfort to her grieving and rebellious heart; but from none had it come
with such simple, unquestioning faith as from the innocent lips of
the unconscious little one before her. Her own loved ones, as well as
Belle's dear mother, were not lost, but "all safe."
She kissed the child again, this time with tears in her eyes.
"You see," continued Belle, encouraged to fresh confidence by the
new kindness of her aunt's manner,--"you see, Aunt Fanny, that makes
another reason for me to try to be good. I have a good many reasons to
please Jesus; 'cause dear mamma in heaven would want me to be good, and
I would like to do what she wants me to, even more when she is away
than if she was here; and 'cause I have to be papa's little comfort.
That's what he always says I am, and he says I am his sunbeam too."
"I think I must call you that too, darling. You have brought a little
ray of sunshine here this morning."
"Maggie says when we're good it's always like sunshine, but when we're
naughty it's like ugly, dark clouds," said Belle. "I'm sorry I was a
cloud yes'day, and that other day, Aunt Fanny. But I b'lieve it's time
for me to go to school now."
"Do you like school?" asked Mrs. Walton.
"Oh, I guess I do!" said Belle. "Why, you don't know what nice times we
have! and Miss Ashton is so kind."
"I want to go to school too," said Mabel.
"Not this morning, dear," said her mother.
"Yes, I shall,--I shall too, now! If Belle goes, I will. I shan't stay
here with nobody to play with me."
Mrs. Walton coaxed and promised, but all to no purpose. Mabel was
determined to see for herself the "nice times" which Belle described:
school suddenly put on great attractions for her, and nothing would do
but that she must go at once. So, taking her by the hand, Mrs. Walton
followed Belle to Mr. Powers' parlor, and asked him what he thought of
Mabel's new whim.
Now, to tell the truth, Mr. Powers had believed that the best possible
thing for Mabel would be to go to school, and be under the firm but
gentle rule of Miss Ashton; but he had not yet proposed it to her
mother, knowing that the mere mention of it from another person would
be quite enough to make the froward child declare she would never go.
Therefore he thought well of Mabel's wish, although he was not prepared
to take Miss Ashton by surprise on this very morning.
But he knew there was one vacancy in her little school, and that she
would probably consent to let Mabel fill it; and he thought it was best
to take advantage of the little girl's sudden fancy, or, as Maggie
Bradford would have said, to "strike while the iron was hot."
Accordingly he told his sister that he would himself walk to school
with the two children, and learn what Miss Ashton had to say on the
matter; and Mabel, being made ready with all speed, set forth with her
uncle and cousin.
Miss Ashton agreed to take the new-comer; and Mabel was at once put
into the seat formerly occupied by Bessie Bradford. Maggie and Bessie
had belonged to Miss Ashton's class; but their mother taught them at
home now.
Belle could not help a little sigh and one or two longing thoughts as
she remembered her dear Bessie who had formerly sat beside her there,
but she did not say a word of her regret to Mabel.
Mabel behaved as well as possible during the whole of school-time;
whether it was that she was well amused, or that she was somewhat
awed by the novelty of the scene, and all the new faces about her,
certainly neither Miss Ashton nor Belle had the least cause of
complaint against her when the time came for school to be dismissed.
And this good mood continued all that day, with one or two small
exceptions. It is true that on more than one of these occasions there
might have been serious trouble between the little cousins, but for
Belle's persevering good-humor and patience; and she would have thought
herself "pretty naughty," if she had behaved as Mabel did. But she
excused and bore with her, because it was Mabel for whom she was to
have that charity which "suffereth long and is kind."
It was hard work too for little Belle; for, though naturally more
generous and amiable than her cousin, she was pretty much accustomed to
having her own way in all things reasonable. At home her every wish was
law with her papa and nurse; Maggie and Bessie Bradford could not do
enough to show their love and sympathy; and all her young playfellows
and school-mates followed their example, and petted and gave way to her
"because she had no mother." So "giving up" was rather a new thing for
Belle, not because she was selfish, but because she was seldom called
upon to do it.
However, she had her reward; for, thanks to her own sweetness and good
temper, there was peace and sunshine throughout the day. She saw that
her father and aunt were pleased with her; and once even Mabel, seeming
touched and ashamed when Belle had quietly yielded her own rights,
turned around in a sudden and unwonted fit of penitence, and said,--
"There, take it, Belle: you had the best right; and I won't be mean to
you again, 'cause you're real good to me."
"My darling has been such a good girl to-day!" said Mr. Powers, as he
took her on his knee when they were alone, and she came for the little
talk they generally had before her bed-time: "she has been trying to
practise the lesson she learned last night, and so has made all about
her happy."
"And been a little sunbeam, papa, have I?"
"Yes, indeed, love,--a true sunbeam."
"And did I make you pleased, papa?"
"Very much pleased, and truly happy, dear."
"And mamma will be pleased too, papa; and mamma's Jesus; and it makes
Him my Jesus when I try to be His sunbeam and shine for Him, don't it?
I guess everybody would be a sunbeam if they always had 'love-charity.'
Tell me it over again, papa, so I will remember it very well, and
s'plain to me a little more about it."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
VIII.
_THE LOCKET._
And this really proved the beginning of better things for Mabel. Not
that she improved so much all at once, or that she was not often
selfish, perverse, and disobedient; or that she did not often try
little Belle very much, and make it hard for her to keep her resolution
of being kind and patient. Nor must it be supposed that Belle always
kept to this resolution, or that she and Mabel did not now and then
have some pretty sharp quarrels; still, on the whole, they agreed
better than had seemed probable on their first meeting.
And perhaps it was good for Belle, as well as for Mabel, that she
should sometimes be obliged to give up her own will to another; and
there was no fear, while her papa and old Daphne were there to watch
over her interests, that she would be suffered to be too much imposed
upon.