|YOU need not suppose that Mr. and Mrs. Reed lost sight of their
children altogether, because I am telling you so much about their hours
with Gill. Oh, no! It would be a singular father and mother that could
trust such precious plants as a little son and daughter, to any other
culture and training than their own.
“It is good for the children to be out a great deal with nature,” said
these wise parents. “Their bodies need the sun and air to make them
thrifty and vigorous, and their minds and souls will be all the more
healthy for this vigor of body.”
But then, at a certain call from the tongue of the bell, the little
people left verdure and flowers and birds, and ran to the study where
mamma sat with books and work around her. They made themselves very
nice before they came into her gentle presence, and, as they entered the
room, there was such a sweet recognition as all well-bred children must
show, whenever they come before father or mother.
There is nothing so beautiful to see in all the world, as this loving
respect and reverence to parents. I know a little boy and three little
girls, close at hand, who always show it, and I am so well pleased with
them that I wish to put them here in this book, that is to go out among
other little people.
“Only four children that pay a proper respect and deference to their
parents! Are these all that you know?” I seem to hear you ask.
Oh, no, not all, thank God! There are others in my mind, but very few
so pretty and gentle in their manners as these to whom I desire to do
honor, and whom I wish you to imitate. Ben and Sally Reed were like
them.
Mamma was carefully and well dressed, and was polite to the little son
and daughter too. That need not surprise you. Mothers are sent to be an
example to their children; and Mrs. Reed felt this responsibility.
Parents should be like brother and sister to their young brood, when
they are mingling familiarly and playfully with them, and like the
divine Friend and Teacher, (I speak this very reverently), when they
have to govern and guide; and children should look up to father and
mother, as they would look up to their heavenly parent and never dare to
say a rebellious or disrespectful word. It must be so very sweet for son
or daughter, when it can be said of them, “They have never given me a
pang.” I have known a mother to say this of a grown-up son, and I looked
upon the man with a sort of envy; for I am sorry to remember that I
was not so gentle a little girl as I might have been, and I am afraid
I shall have to stand beside the many thoughtless children, instead of
with Ben and Sally Reed, and with the pleasant four, and the few other
dear ones whom I have in my mind. However that may be, we that have not
done quite as well as we ought heretofore can only be very sorry for the
past, and begin at once to amend our ways. This is all that a gracious
God requires for any fault,--that we repent sincerely for it, and do as
well as we possibly can for the future.
Ben and Sally were deeply interested in their studies, and in the course
of reading which their mother had marked out for them; for young as they
were, there were juvenile histories, and books upon the natural sciences
that were adapted to their tender minds; and Mrs. Reed chose these
rather than the simple stories which had in them no useful facts. She
said, “It is just as easy to give the children a taste for the right
sort of knowledge, as to cultivate in them a desire for a light and
trashy literature.” So she taught them about real characters who have
lived in the world, and talked to them of the riches that are upon the
earth, and in the seas, and they were as happy as could be during school
hours, and were almost always sorry when the time was over.
Mr. Reed had his opportunity with them in the evening. That was a very
joyous time. There was so much of the day’s events, to be gone over on
both sides! Papa made the most of every incident from which he could
draw a moral; and the little children had more than they could possibly
tell, and generally left a good deal for the next day. Often, after they
were in bed, Ben would call quietly from across the dim hall,--
“Are you awake, sister?”
“Yes, Ben.”
“Well, we forgot to tell father something.”
Then he would say what it was, and Sally would call back again, “We must
be sure to think of it in the morning.”
Mamma did not object to their speaking softly to each other in the
dimness. It was pleasant to her to hear the little loving voices up
above, as she sat below engaged in some household work of mending or
sewing. She said to papa one evening, as the music of her children’s
prattle came floating down to her, “I wonder if mothers, who have put
their little children in bed, and themselves are left up and doing here
below, ever listen for the pleasant voices from above? There can be no
doubt that the precious ones are talking happily together, and it seems
to me that if all others are deaf to the sound, it must reach a mother’s
ears, and make her heart very contented and blessed.”
Mr. Reed looked at his wife with some surprise. “What made you think of
that just now?” asked he.
“I can not tell, except that whenever Ben and Sally are speaking
together in the dark, it gives me a pleasant feeling about the night
that must come to all, both little and big; and I think, perhaps, if
my children should be called to their last sleep before us, we might
be comforted by the conviction that they have sweet companionship and
communion.”
“I hope God will spare our darlings to be the joy of our old age,” said
Mr. Reed. “We will try to train them in his holy ways, however, and
then, whether they stay here or are called up to him, we shall be blest
and satisfied.”
Ben had a little room that looked out upon the orchard, and he could
hear the twitter of the birds as they awoke from time to time, and asked
their mothers to tuck the feathers closer around them,--for, summer
though it was, the tender young creatures wanted a warm shelter from the
night dews. Then, in the very early dawn, the flutter of their wings as
they made their morning toilet sounded through the open casement, and
when they were quite dressed, there was such a burst of song as started
the lad to his feet, and made him hasten out where every thing that had
breath seemed to be praising the Lord.
Sally’s bed was a cot beside father and mother. She was the baby
still, and it was sweet to them to keep her under their wing as long as
possible. But, like the little birds, she was awake at the peep of day,
and poured forth thanksgiving to him who had watched over her through
the darkness. Then she and Ben went out to help Gill, or to speak to
Dobbin, or to play amid the green until Lucy’s bell called to them to
make ready for breakfast.
Dobbin always expected a visit before sunrise. Animals and children are
very happy companions, and seem to understand each other well. This
“son of a jackass” was a noble fellow, and stood upon his own merits,
whatever his father was before him. He had such a genial nature, that
his eyes would brighten, and his ears prick up for joy, when the little
people stepped over the threshold of the barn, and he would give a
pleasant whinny that meant to them, “Good morning, I am very happy to
see you. I hope you have passed a refreshing night, and that the day
will be one of great blessedness and peace to you.”
And the children would say: “How d’ye do, Dobbin? What an early
breakfast you are having all alone here! If we could only eat hay, we
would share it with you. I suppose you have to go to town as usual,
and carry something to Mrs. Beth. No doubt she sits by this time in
her stall, waiting for you and Gill to bring the fresh fruit and
vegetables.”
Then Ben would take the curry-comb, and smooth the shaggy coat, and
Dobbin would seem as pleased as a little child at being made so nice and
respectable for the jaunt to the city.
“You must hold up your head,” Sally would say, “and let the city horses
see that you are well-bred, and have nothing to be ashamed of; and,
whatever you do, Dobbin, try and keep a sure footing in the slimy
streets. ‘Tis dreadful to fall down in such mud and mire! I should be
sorry if you came home with your nice coat soiled, and maybe an inward
hurt that would be harder to get over.”
Sally did not know what a fine moral there was to her little speech, for
every body that goes from the freshness and purity of a country home to
the slippery places of the great and wicked city.