|MR. and Mrs. Reed came out to see what Gill and the children were
about. Mr. Reed was at home for the day, which was not a very frequent
event, and it was quite a treat to him to leave all thought of his
ledger behind him, and live for a few free hours amid the things of
nature, that lead the mind to higher thoughts than are begotten by
business speculations, and accounts. The parents stood a little aloof,
and heard what Gill was talking about.
“We owe much to this intelligent Scotchman,” said Mrs. Reed. “He has
taught the children so many things from this garden book, that would
have lost half their interest if they had been printed upon paper.”
“Oh, yes, I like this sort of school very much,” said the father. “One
never forgets the knowledge gained in this way; but I am glad that Ben
and Sally are none the less diligent over the printed lessons, when you
call them in to their studies.”
“They always apply themselves earnestly. I have no fault to find with
them,” said mamma. “I have spoken to them so constantly of the mind as a
talent given by God to be improved to his honor and glory, that I think
they have a conscientious motive in their efforts to learn.”
“There are papa and mamma,” said Sally, espying the beloved ones.
The children ran to meet their guests, and to take them the round of the
garden. They felt themselves to be host and hostess, and wished to do
all honor to their distinguished visitors. The Elysian fields, with
their beautiful meadows, and groves, and cloudless sky, and sweet music,
and soft celestial light, could have been no more beautiful to the
imagination than was the reality of Gill’s vegetable garden to these
children, with the adjoining pasture where Brindle and Flash were
serenely chewing the cud, and the late butterflies were flitting hither
and thither, and the chirp of the cricket came pleasantly to the ear,
and the warble of birds, making ready for their autumn flight, brought
back the sense of the early spring.
The sky was blue and bright, and there was no chill in the air, and the
grass was still green upon the earth, and the leaves upon the trees had
not changed to russet and crimson and gold.
There was so much to exhibit. Mr. Reed had to examine with eye and hand
the garden growth, and then Gill was left to pull alone at the parsnips
for a while, and the little people took their guests into the meadow to
stroke the glossy red cows, and to take in the sweet milky breath, that
mamma loved so, and thought so healthful.
Brindle was gentle as a lamb, and held her face close to her mistress,
and looked at her with her great pensive eyes, and rubbed her nose
against Sally’s face, and stood patient and loving, for the caresses
that she seemed to prize.
Flash, a little younger and more antic, frisked about for a few minutes,
but came at last to a stand-still beside Mr. Reed, and allowed him to,
lead her by the horn, as if she were a docile child. Ben and Sally were
as pleased as though they were responsible for her courteous behaviour,
and they knew something “how a father and mother must feel when their
children do them justice by correct and polite manners. Sally praised
Flash when she had a sly chance, and Ben and her parents were engrossed
by something else. .
“I’m just as proud of you as can be,” said she, giving the cow a good
hug, and patting her head gently. “I was afraid you were going to
forget, yourself altogether; but you came to your senses in time to show
a proper breeding to my company,--that’s a good Flash. Now go on chewing
your cud, and think how happy you have made me.”
[Illustration: 0126]
Flash seemed to be whispering it all to Brindle just after. They had
their heads close together, and were as cosy and loving as could be; and
they looked around now and then at the party in the distance, as if they
were sorry ever to lose such kind and appreciative friends from view.
Mr. and Mrs. Reed lingered under an old apple-tree where the market-cart
was standing. Gill had brought it there the night before, thinking to
gather the apples to-day. Above it the branches spread out with a wealth
of ruddy fruit.
“Let us rest here for awhile,” said mamma. “It is so pleasant.”
Papa helped her up into the cart, and got in beside her; and the
children followed, and all sat upon the edge, as humble as the little
turkeys that aspired to the topmost bough of the tree, yet were content
with their lowly position. The turkeys had been exalted long before now,
and sat every night on their lofty perch, with the heavens and the stars
nearer. I suppose that always happens when one humbles himself, and then
is lifted up,--the glory comes surely closer to him.
But about my little party in the meadow! Was there ever such pleasure to
the children? To see papa and mamma sitting with them on the edge of the
cart, as happy and contented as if it were a throne!
That is the beauty of older companionship,--when grown people can come
down to the tiny level, and really enjoy the descent.
“You look about as young as Sally,” said Mr. Reed, observing the fresh
color in his wife’s cheeks, and the sparkle in her eye.
“It is rejuvenating to be out here with the children,” returned she.
“What is that, mamma?” asked Sally.
To be made youthful again. I feel quite like a little child. That is the
way we should always feel in spirit, though I do not know that I should
care to go back bodily to my little girlhood,--I have such a happy home,
and such a dear husband, and such good, loving children!
Papa and the little people looked as if they felt this compliment very
precious, and they could not help giving mamma a kiss under the shadow
of the old apple-tree. But those were not the only caresses that
the green leaves had been witness to; for months ago, in the bright
springtime, there was such a happy family in the robin’s nest, and often
and often the father and the young brood had kissed the mother-bird,
as they told each other how blest a tie it was that bound them, and how
perfectly contented they were in their sweet and hallowed relationships.
The breeze rustled the green leaves to-day and made a soft melody, and
the red fruit spoke out in praises of the sun and the rain and the air,
that had helped it to grow up from its babyhood to a ripe and mellow
age. So many voices all about if one could but hear them!
Mamma sat thoughtful, listening. She always had an ear for every sound
in nature; and what was said reached down deep into her soul, and made
it very thankful,--thankful to him who gives such beauty to the earth,
and promises still better things in heaven to those who love him and
strive to keep his commandments.
“Can we not sing something?” asked papa. “I wish we could have a little
music out here in the open air. It is so delightful to hear singing when
there is no ceiling to deaden the sound.”
Mamma spoke to the children, and then all burst forth in that beautiful
anthem:--
“The strain upraise, of joy and praise, Alleluia!
To the glory of their King
Shall the ransomed people sing, Alleluia!
And the choirs that dwell on high
Shall re-echo through the sky, Alleluia! Alleluia!
They in the rest of paradise who dwell,
The blessed ones with joy the chorus swell, Alleluia!
The planets beaming on their heavenly way,
The shining constellations join and say, Alleluia!
Ye clouds that onward sweep, ye winds on pinions light,
Ye thunders echoing loud and deep, ye lightnings
wildly bright,
In sweet consent unite you, Alleluia!
Ye floods and ocean billows, ye storms and winter
snow,
Ye days of cloudless beauty, hoar frost and summer
glow,
Ye groves that wave in spring, and glorious forests, sing,
Alleluia!
First let the birds, with painted plumage gay,
Exalt their great Creator’s praise and say, Alleluia!
Then let the beasts of earth, with varying strain,
Join in creation’s ‘hymn, and cry again, Alleluia!
Here let the mountains thunder forth sonorous, Allelluia
There let the valleys sing in gentle chorus, Alleluia!
Thou jubilant abyss of ocean, cry, Alleluia!
Ye tracts of earth, and continents, reply, Alleluia
To God who all creation made,
The frequent hymn be duly paid, Alleluia!
This is the strain, the eternal strain the Almighty loves,
Alleluia!
This is the song, the heavenly song, that Christ the King
approves, Alleluia!
Wherefore we sing both heart and voice awaking, Alleluia!
And children voices echo, answer making, Alleluia to
the Lord!
With Alleluia evermore,
The Son and Spirit we adore.
Praise be done to the Three in One,
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia, Amen!”
How sweet the anthem was as it floated over the meadow and upward toward
God! The cows stood quietly listening; and Gill stopped his work to hear
the strain, and Lucy came to the kitchen door with Jack in her arms, and
Dobbin pricked up his ears and forgot his hay, and the birds joined the
concert, and the crickets chimed in with their cheerful notes,--and,
really, the old market-cart standing under the apple-tree with, the
thills resting upon the bar of the fence, seemed almost like a church,
with the blue and crimson and green overhead, and the worshipers
swelling out this hymn of praise to the great Creator.
“It sounds so very sweet,” said little Sally. “Mamma sings like an
angel, I should think.”
Mamma put her hand on the child’s head. “We must all try and learn the
angel’s song,--Glory be to God on high, and on earth peace, good will
toward men!” she said.