in the arithmetic class, he said that seven times eight was
ninety-four, and insisted that such was the case, even after half the
girls in the class were laughing over it. This is about a specimen of
the way in which he knew his entire lesson. Of course he sat gloomily
in his seat during recess, with his arithmetic upside down.
"Chester," his teacher asked, "how is it that you failed on your lesson
this morning?"
"I didn't have time to study it, sir."
"Is that so?" said Mr. Pierson. He thought a great deal of Chester,
who, to tell you the truth, generally had his lesson. His mother often
had trouble about it, but the teacher rarely had. "I think I'll have to
excuse you," his teacher said kindly, "if you really had not the time
to learn it. You may make it up to-morrow."
And Chester went to the playground with a hurrah on his lips. He seemed
to be very happy the rest of the day. When he went home, he was full of
play, and greeted the dogs with words of praise for keeping themselves
looking so well.
"Your nose is almost as clean as it was this morning, when you fought
so hard against my washing it, you ungrateful fellow!" he said to Sport.
A very happy boy he was all the evening. He went to bed happy. He knelt
down in his white night-suit and said "Our Father," and then hopped
into bed with a whistle, and the next minute was asleep.
Poor Chester! Why? Oh, to be a boy who disobeyed his mother, and told
two falsehoods, and yet to think so little of it all that he could go
to bed whistling, without even having asked to be forgiven, is to be a
boy who needs pity.
Two falsehoods? Yes, indeed! Didn't he say to his mother, "I'm coming
right away," and go on with his work that she had directed him to
leave? Didn't he tell the teacher he "hadn't time," when the truth
would have been that he chose to take the time which belonged to the
arithmetic for something else?
White and clean! Oh, yes, that is what the dogs were; clean as to their
consciences for that matter, if they had any; for I believe they acted
as well as they knew how all that day. But how was it with Chester's
heart?
"BOY WANTED."
PEOPLE laughed when they saw the sign again. It seemed to be always
in Mr. Peters' window. For a day or two, sometimes for only an hour
or two, it would be missing, and passers-by would wonder whether Mr.
Peters had at last found a boy to suit him; but sooner or later, it was
sure to appear again.
"What sort of a boy does he want, anyway?" one and another would ask.
And then they would say to each other, that they supposed he was
looking for a perfect boy, and in their opinion, he would look a good
while before he found one. Not that there were not plenty of boys—as
many as a dozen used sometimes to appear in the course of a morning,
trying for the situation. Mr. Peters was said to be rich and boys were
very anxious to try to suit him. "All he wants is a fellow to run of
errands; it must be easy work and sure pay." This was the way they
talked to each other. But Mr. Peters wanted more than a boy to run
of errands. John Simmons found that out, and this was the way he
did it. He had been engaged that very morning, and had been kept busy
all the forenoon, at pleasant enough work, and although he was a lazy
fellow, he rather enjoyed the place.
It was towards the middle of the afternoon that he was sent up to the
attic, a dark, dingy place, inhabited by mice and cobwebs.
"You will find a long deep box there," said Mr. Peters, "that I want to
have put in order. It stands right in the middle of the room, you can't
miss it."
John looked doleful. "A long deep box, I should think it was!" he told
himself, as the attic door closed after him. "It would weigh most a
ton, I guess; and what is there in it? Nothing in the world but old
nails, and screws, and pieces of iron, and broken keys and things;
rubbish, the whole of it! Nothing worth touching, and it is as dark
as a pocket up here, and cold, besides; how the wind blows in through
those knotholes! There's a mouse! If there is any thing that I hate,
it's mice! I'll tell you what it is, if old Peters thinks I'm going to
stay up here and tumble over his rusty nails, he's much mistaken. I
wasn't hired for that kind of work."
Whereupon John bounced down the attic stairs, three at a time, and was
found lounging in the show window, half an hour afterwards, when Mr.
Peters appeared.
"Have you put that box in order already?" was the gentleman's question.
"I didn't find any thing to put in order; there was nothing in it but
nails and things."
"Exactly; it was the 'nails and things' that I wanted put in order; did
you do it?"
"No, sir, it was dark up there, and cold; and I didn't see any thing
worth doing; besides, I thought I was hired to run of errands."
"Oh," said Mr. Peters, "I thought you were hired to do as you were
told." But he smiled pleasantly enough, and at once gave John an errand
to do down town, and the boy went off chuckling, declaring to himself
that he knew how to manage the old fellow; all it needed was a little
standing up for your rights.
Precisely at six o'clock John was called and paid the sum promised
him for a day's work, and then, to his dismay, he was told that his
services would not be needed any more. He asked no questions; indeed he
had time for none, as Mr. Peters immediately closed the door.
The next morning the old sign "Boy Wanted" appeared in its usual place.
Before noon it was taken down, and Charlie Jones was the fortunate
boy. Errands, plenty of them; he was kept busy until within an hour of
closing. Then, behold he was sent to the attic to put the long box in
order. He was not afraid of a mouse, nor of the cold, but he grumbled
much over that box; nothing in it worth his attention. However, he
tumbled over the things, growling all the time, picked out a few
straight nails, a key or two, and finally appeared down-stairs with
this message: "Here's all there is worth keeping in that old box; the
rest of the nails are rusty, and the hooks are bent, or something."
"Very well," said Mr. Peters, and sent him to the post-office. What
do you think? by the close of the next day, Charlie had been paid and
discharged, and the old sign hung in the window.
"I've no kind of a notion why I was discharged," grumbled Charlie
to his mother. "He said he had no fault to find, only he saw that I
wouldn't suit. It's my opinion he doesn't want a boy at all, and takes
that way to cheat. Mean old fellow!"
It was Crawford Mills who was hired next. He knew neither of the other
boys, and so did his errands in blissful ignorance of the "long box,"
until the second morning of his stay, when in a leisure hour he was
sent to put it in order. The morning passed, dinner time came, and
still Crawford had not appeared from the attic. At last Mr. Peters
called him. "Got through?"
"No, sir; there is ever so much more to do."
"All right; it is dinner time now; you may go back to it after dinner."
After dinner back he went; all the short afternoon he was not heard
from, but just as Mr. Peters was deciding to call him again, he
appeared.
"I've done my best, sir," he said, "and down at the very bottom of the
box I found this." "This" was a five dollar gold piece.
"That's a queer place for gold," said Mr. Peters. "It's good you found
it; well, sir, I suppose you will be on hand to-morrow morning?" This
he said as he was putting the gold piece in his pocket-book.
After Crawford had said good-night and gone, Mr. Peters took the
lantern and went slowly up the attic stairs. There was the long deep
box in which the rubbish of twenty-five years had gathered. Crawford
had evidently been to the bottom of it; he had fitted in pieces of
shingle to make compartments, and in these different rooms he had
placed the articles, with bits of shingle laid on top and labeled thus:
"Good screws." "Pretty good nails." "Picture nails." "Small keys,
somewhat bent." "Picture hooks." "Pieces of iron whose use I don't
know." So on through the long box. In perfect order it was at last,
and very little that could really be called useful, was to be found
within it. But Mr. Peters as he bent over and read the labels, laughed
gleefully and murmured to the mice: "If we are not both mistaken, I
have found a boy, and he has found a fortune."
Sure enough; the sign disappeared from the window and was seen no more.
Crawford became the well-known errand boy of the firm of Peters & Co.
He had a little room neatly fitted up, next to the attic, where he
spent his evenings, and at the foot of the bed hung a motto which Mr.
Peters gave him.
"It tells your fortune for you, don't forget it," he said when he
handed it to Crawford.
And the boy laughed and read it curiously: "He that is faithful in that
which is least, is faithful also in much."
"I'll try to be, sir," he said; and he never once thought of the long
box over which he had been faithful.
All this happened years ago. Crawford Mills is errand boy no more,
but the firm is Peters, Mills, Co. A young man and a rich man. "He
found his fortune in a long box full of rubbish," Mr. Peters said
once, laughing. "Never was a five dollar gold piece so successful in
business as that one of his has been; it is good he found it." Then
after a moment of silence he said gravely: "No, he didn't; he found it
in his mother's Bible. 'He that is faithful in that which is least, is
faithful also in much.' It is true; Mills the boy was faithful, and
Mills the man we trust."
SIGHTSEEING.
DO you know, if I were in Paris one of the sights I should want to see
would be the great telescope in the Observatory. Did you ever look
through a great large one?
"How did we come to have telescopes, auntie?" I heard a little boy ask
the other day as he passed the large one in the Park.
The auntie had not studied very carefully, for she said she supposed
somebody found out how to make them; but she didn't know who he was,
nor where he lived, nor when, nor how he happened to think of it. All
these questions the boy asked, and had no answers save that tiresome
one, "I don't know."
Perhaps other bright little boys are asking and getting no good
answers. Let us see if we cannot find a little bit to tell them. In the
first place, I think a man named Galileo had perhaps the most to do
with inventing telescopes. Other people were studying into the matter,
and trying to invent a machine that would be useful, but he is the
first one who accomplished much.
He was born in Pisa, a little more than three hundred and fifty years
ago. A smart boy was Galileo. He intended to be a doctor, and studied
medicine when very young; but you never heard of such queer ideas as
the doctors had in those days, and the more Galileo studied, the surer
he felt that a great many of their teachings were nonsense. One evening
when he was about eighteen years old, he stood in the great cathedral
at Pisa and watched a hanging lamp that something had set in motion,
and discovered that it swung back and forth with regular beats, very
much as the little machine inside of him whose beats he could feel when
he put his fingers on his wrist.
"Why!" said he to himself. "There seems to be some law regulating that
motion; it keeps time with my pulse! Why couldn't there be a machine
made that would beat so regularly it would measure time for us?" And
that is the beginning of the story of all our clocks and watches.
[Illustration]
It was the beginning too, of Galileo's study about the moon and the
stars, and planning ways for finding out more about them. There is a
long, long story about that which you will find it very interesting
to read. I could not begin to tell you of the many difficulties in
the way, nor what long hard work it took to learn to make a telescope
like this one in the Observatory at Paris, for instance. A great many
scholars helped to study it out. One man would find out one thing,
and perhaps all the others would be sure it wasn't true. Then they
would argue and experiment, and quarrel a little, and call one another
hard names, and perhaps discover years afterwards that they were all
mistaken. So the years went by, until now we have at great expense very
wonderful telescopes indeed. But oh, how carefully they have to be
made! There is hardly any other instrument which requires such careful
handling as these. Why, the metal of which some of the parts are made
has to be ground away so that at the edges it shall not be more than
one hundredth part as thick as the paper on which our books are printed.
Just think what great pains people take, and how much money they spend
to find out something about those worlds which twinkle all about us at
night. The first chance you have to look through a good telescope, be
sure to do it. Do you know I never look through one and see the wonders
flashed before me, but I am reminded of the eye of God. How many
things he sees that we cannot see at all. Things going on all about
us, of which we know nothing. Think of a telescope that would show
other people the thoughts of our hearts. Would you like to have such
an instrument pointed at you, and people looking in to see what you
thought about them? Yet the wonderful God can look all the time right
into your heart and mine, and see every thought.
"Thou God seest me." Remember that.
Ah, but it is a blessed thing to remember. What if he could not see the
dangers all about us that we know nothing of, and so could not take
care of us, and keep our feet from falling?
What if He could not see our hearts, and so did not know whether we
were really sorry for sin, and really meant to serve him?
Oh, I am glad that there is a telescope so powerful that it can see me
in the darkness as well as in the light.
SLINGS AND STONES.
THIRTY hundred years ago—isn't that a l-o-n-g time?—two great armies
stood up to fight each other. And they had a good many battles. And one
day a g-r-e-a-t big man came from one of the armies and stood on the
hillside. He was larger than the largest man you ever saw.
"As big as my father?"
"Twice as big as your father."
"My father is five feet eight, he says."
"And this big man was eleven feet four. Your father's head would have
just about reached to his pockets."
"Did he have big pockets?"
"A-w-f-u-l big."
"What did he have in them?"
"Nobody could tell, as he wore a brass coat, and he was brass all over
him, from his head to his toes."
"Whew!"
"Yes, cap and coat and pants all shining with bright bits of brass, and
these bits of brass were all lapped together like the scales of a fish."
"W-h-e-w! And what was that for?"
"So nothing could hit him and hurt him."
"Wouldn't a bullet hurt him?"
"They didn't have pistols in those days."
"Nor cannon balls?"
"Nor cannon balls."
"What, then?"
"Swords and spears."
"His must have been dreadful big."
"I guess so; as big as—as—as—"
"As big as a railroad rail?"
"Shouldn't wonder. But we'll say half, or a quarter."
"He would have been splendid to build bridges and ships."
"He chose rather to cut off good people's heads. That was about all he
cared to do. That's what he wanted to do when he stood there on the
hillside and for forty days kept calling for some one on the other side
to come over and fight with him. He knew he was so strong and had such
a strong dress on—made of brass, as I said—that he could easily cut off
any one's head that dared come out against him. For there was no such
giant anywhere."
"Did he just step over and cut off all the heads of the other army?"
"I'll tell you how it was, if you'll listen and not ask too many
questions."
"I'll be very still."
"The other army were all afraid of this awful man, and many of them hid
away behind the rocks and in the holes of the earth, and their general—"
"General Grant?"
"No, no, child; it was thirty hundred years ago."
"Oh!"
"Their general became pale with fear."
"Did he cut off the general's head?"
"I'll tell you in a minute. Be patient, and you'll know all about it."
"O yes! but do hurry; whose head?"
"One day there came a beautiful youth to the army to see his brothers
and bring them something nice."
"Did he cut off his head?"
"Wait, now."
"I will."'
"And he—"
"Which 'he'?"
"This youth. He offered to go and fight the giant and—"
"How big was he? And was he covered all over with those brass pieces
lapped tight like the fish scales?"
"They wanted him to wear a good many things to cover his head and arms
and breast and legs, so the giant couldn't hit him and draw blood, and
so he put them on; but they were so large and heavy he could hardly
walk or lift his hands to his head—"
"To keep the giant from cutting it off?"
"Yes. He could not do any thing with his head off."
"Only just hop about, I s'pose, like a hen."
"So he took them all off and started—"
"His coat and jacket and cap?"
"No, no; only the things—the other things—and started to meet the
giant."
"Alone?"
"All alone. And the big army and the general stood back looking and
trembling and expecting the giant would cut him all to pieces with his
awful sword."
"Did he?"
"You'll see."
"Didn't he have anything in his hand, a club, or a hammer, or a long
sharp iron? I would have taken our big watch dog Prince. Tell you, you
ought t' 'ave seen him shake a tramp one day."
"But your Prince couldn't have hurt this giant, because of his brass
dress."
"He could have Barked. Did you ever hear our Prince bark and growl?"
"But this youth didn't have your Prince to go with him, and so he had
to take what he could and go out to meet the giant."
"I guess he didn't go very fast. I'd a jest crept slyly along on my
hands and knees, still as a mouse, and when I got close up behind him
I'd a jest sprung upon him like a cat, right into his hair and face,
and pulled his eyes and hair all out before he could a-said 'Jack
Robinson.'"
"But there was a man with the giant watching; and how could you jump
eleven feet and tear his eyes and hair out, when he was covered all
over with brass!"
"Oh!"
"But this youth was not afraid of the giant. He had killed two big
giants before this."
"Tell me their names."
"Well, one was a Mr. Bear and the other was a Mr. Lion. But I can't
stop to tell you about them now. So he was not afraid. He trusted in
God and no one, not everybody altogether, is as great and strong as
God. He was good at slinging stones. He could hit a mark almost every
time. So he pulled his sling out of his pocket and picked up a few
stones and put one in and ran right toward the old giant, and as he ran
he swung the sling round and round as fast as he could, and the Lord
helped him, and he aimed right at the giant's head."
"Did he hit him?"
"Hit him right in the forehead."
"Good! GOOD! GOOD!"
"And the stone sank deep into his head—"
"How the bits of brass must a-flew, though."
"No, the great big man had uncovered his face and eyes so he could see
his little foe better, maybe, and the good Lord helped the youth to
sling the stone right here."
"Wasn't that splendid?"
"And down he went flat on the ground with his great sword and spear and
his shiny brass hat and dress, and the man that was with him, he was so
scared, he screamed at the top of his voice and ran back as fast as his
feet could carry him, and all the giant's big army ran, and the other
general—"
"General Sherman?"
"No, NO, child; it was years and years ago."
"Oh!"
"They all ran after the giant's army, and—"
"What did the youth and the giant do?"
"He cut off his head."
"Which 'he'?"
"You see the giant was flat on the ground, and Da—I mean the youth, ran
upon him as he lay there and cut his big head clear off, and that was
the end of him."
"He didn't do it with that sling, did he?"
"He picked up the giant's own sword and cut it off with that."
"He must have been very strong, and took both hands, or he couldn't
a-lifted that sword most as big as a railroad rail. Did you say his
name was Da—?"
"David."
"'David'?"
"Yes."
"What was the giant's name?"
"Goliath."
"'Goliath'?"
"Yes. David and Goliath. I guess you have heard about them before."
"It's a B-i-b-l-e story, I do declare. Tell another."
"Will you promise to keep very still and not interrupt me so?"
"If I can."
"Well, there was once a little boy about your size, hair and eyes and
skin very much like yours."
"What was his name?"
"You promised to keep still."
"Well, I'll try."
"One day there came a big, dreadful giant after him."
"To cut off his head?"
"Not quite that, but—"
"I'm so glad."
"But to take him home with him and adopt him."
"What's that?"
"To make him his child."
"Ugh!"
"And stay with him always and do just what he told him."
"Cut off heads? And what else does he have 'em do?"
"Every thing bad—lie, and steal, and drink, and gamble, chew tobacco
and do ever so many wicked things."
"What did the boy do? Did he have any sling and stones? And was the
giant covered all over with bits of brass, all lapped together like
fish scales?"
"Yes, he was pretty well covered up; but there was one bare spot as big
as a dollar—"
"A gold dollar?"
"About. But the boy had a good sling which his good mother gave him one
Fourth of July day instead of fire crackers."
"Can't I have some crackers?"
"Never mind now. His mother showed him how to use it, too."
"Ha! Ha! Ha! Just to think of my mother a-slingin'! Ha! Ha!"
"And his Sunday-school teacher, she also knew well how to use this
sling. She had been practising with one just like it for a whole year.
She told him ever so much how to put the stones in and just what kind
of a stone to use every time."
"Were there different stones?"
"Oh my, yes! Ever so many; a hundred or thousand. I don't know how
many."
"How can you tell 'em apart?"
"They are all marked."
"Who marked them all?"
"God. He takes a great deal of trouble for everybody, but always for
children. When Jesus was on the earth he took little ones in his arms
and blessed them, and said suffer them to come unto me.'"
"He is very wonderful. How did he mark the stones?"
"He put plain words upon them. Upon some the little word no; upon
others yes, or faith, or prayer, or hope, or Bible, or love, or peace,
or heaven, or forgive, or Jesus, and a great many more names that I
can't think of now."
"Which stone did he take of 'em all? Or maybe he put in two or three,
so if one wouldn't hit the other would, just as uncle Jason does when
he loads the gun for squirrels."
"He didn't need but one stone, and it so happened he knew which it
was, for his mother had told him before about this old giant and what
stone to sling into his wicked face. So he reached his hand into the
bag where they are kept, and felt about till he got one with the little
word no on it, and this he soon clapped into his sling, and with a
sharp twirl or two about his head he let fly, and away went the giant
howling and running at hot speed."
"Has he never come back?"
"Oh, yes! Every little while he turns up, but almost always in a
different dress, so no one will think him the same wicked old creature
that he is. But it is easy to know him every time, whatever clothes he
has on, for he always wants one to do some mischief."
"And must you always sling the same stone at him?"
"Always the same; never the one marked yes, but the one marked no."
"Are there a good many such? I should think they would soon be used up,
if the giant comes back very often."
"That's one of the strangest things about these stones, the more you
sling the more you have to sling. I guess God is so pleased when one of
his children throws one at this wicked giant, he puts two more in its
place."
"What are the other stones for?"
"They are for all the other giants."
"Other giants! Are there more?"
"Ever so many; ever so many."
"Oh, dear! it's just too bad. I wish they were all dead. Did that boy
kill them all that he slung at?"
"No, no; they keep coming at him every day. There were two about him
to-day."
"Two? ugh! Who were they?"
"Well, old giant Hate. He's a horrid creature. He goes about trying
to set people against each other. He is so delighted if he can get a
brother and sister out with each other that he laughs all night long."
"Did he get very near the boy?"
"Well, he did; but just as he was going to lay his big ugly hands upon
him, he thought of his stone and in a moment he had his hand in the bag
and out came a stone that is marked love; and when the giant saw it, he
fled with all his might and main. But he'd scarcely gone when in came
another. His name is giant Satan. He is a very mighty giant, the prince
of them all, and he carries hundreds and hundreds of darts, and they
are all different, and some are very sharp; some burn like fire when
they strike; some fly swifter than lightning."
"Oh, don't! It's awful! What DID he do when giant Satan came with all
those fiery darts? Ugh!"
"He just flung stone after stone till he had to gather up all his darts
and hurry off into darkness somewhere. He's as 'fraid as death of some
stones. He'll dodge a thousand ways rather than be hit with one of
them."
"What are they? I want to know; he may come at me?"
"Here they are, my dear child. You'll need them every moment of your
life just as much as this boy I've been telling you about, who has
learned how to use so many of them."