FASTING.
Johnny had been talking to his mother, as he often talked, about a Bible
verse which he did not fully understand—
“But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head and wash thy face,
that thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father which seeth
in secret,”—and she had told him that a sacrifice, to be real and
whole-hearted, must be made not only willingly, but cheerfully; “not
grudgingly, or of necessity, for God loveth a cheerful giver.”
“I don’t wonder at all at that, mamma,” Johnny had replied, “when you
think how hateful it is to have people do things for you as if they
didn’t wish to. I’d rather go without a thing, than take it when people
are that way.”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Leslie, “people do sometimes say ‘oh bother’ when
‘certainly’ would be more appropriate,”—Johnny laughed, but he blushed
a little, too—“and ‘directly,’ or ‘in a minute,’” continued his mother,
“when it would be more graceful, to say the least of it, to go at once,
without any words. We forget too often that ‘even Christ pleased not
Himself,’ and we fret over the disturbing of our own little plans and
arrangements, as if we were all Great Moguls.”
“You don’t, mammy,” and Johnny kissed his mother in the particular spot,
just under her chin, where he always kissed her when he felt unusually
affectionate.
“Oh, yes I do, dear, oftener than you know,” said Mrs. Leslie, “but I
am trying all the time, and when I am nearly sure that I am going to be
cross, I go away by myself, if I can, for a few minutes, where I can
fight it out without punishing any one else, and when I can’t do that, I
ask for strength just to keep perfectly still until pleasant words will
come.”
“You’ve been practising so long, mamma,” said Johnny, wistfully, “that
you’re just about perfect, I think; but I don’t believe I will be, if I
live to be as old as Methusaleh! I wish I had some sort of an arrangement
to clap on the outside of my mouth, that would hold it shut for five
minutes!”
“But don’t you see, dear,”—and Mrs. Leslie laughed a little at Johnny’s
idea—“that if you had time to remember to clap on your ‘arrangement,’ you
would have time to stop yourself in another and better way?”
“Yes, mamma, I suppose I should,” admitted Johnny, “but it somehow
seems as if the other way would be easier, especially if I had the
‘arrangement’ somewhere where I could always see it.”
“But don’t you remember, dear,” said his mother, “that even after Moses
lifted up the brazen serpent, the poor Israelites were not saved by it
unless they looked up at it? That came into my mind the other day when
we were playing the new game—‘Hiding in plain sight,’ you know. Every
time we failed to find the thimble, it was in such ‘plain sight’ that we
laughed at ourselves for being so stupid, and then I thought how exactly
like that we are about ‘the ever-present help.’ It is always ready for
us, and then we go looking everywhere else, and wonder that we fail! And
I think you would find it so with your ‘arrangement.’ You would see it
and use it, perhaps, for a day or two, and then you would grow used to
it, and it would be invisible to you half the time, at least.”
This game of “Hiding in plain sight” was one which Ned Owen had recently
taught them, and it was very popular both at school and in the different
homes. A thimble was the favorite thing to hide; all but the hider either
shut their eyes or went out of the room, while he placed the thimble in
some place where it could be very plainly seen—if one only knew where to
look for it! Sometimes it would be on a little point of the gas fixture;
sometimes on top of a picture-frame or mantel-ornament, and then the
hider generally had the pleasure of seeing the seekers stare about the
room with puzzled faces, and finally give it up, when he would point it
out triumphantly, and they would all exclaim at their stupidity.
[Illustration]
The rule was, that if any one found it, he was merely to say so, and not
to point it out to the rest.
Johnny was very much impressed with his mother’s comparison, and
resolved, as he said to himself, to “look sharper” for the small chances
of self-denial which come to all of us, while large chances come but to
few, or only at long intervals. There was a poem of which Mrs. Leslie was
very fond, and which Tiny and Johnny had learned just to please her,
which had this verse in it:—
“I would not have the restless will
That hurries to and fro,
Seeking for some great thing to do,
Or secret thing to know.
I would be dealt with as a child,
And guided where to go.”
And another verse ended with,—
“More careful, than to serve Thee much,
To please Thee perfectly.”
Tiny and Johnny were given to “making believe” all sorts of startling
and thrilling adventures, in which they rescued people from avalanches,
and robbers, and railway-accidents; and, to do Tiny justice, all this
making believe did not in the least interfere with the sweet obedience
and thoughtfulness for the comfort of others which marked her little life
every day. She was much more practical than Johnny was, and would never
have thought of these wonderful “pretends” by herself, but she was always
ready to join him in whatever he proposed, unless she knew it to be
wrong, and he was quite proud of the manner in which she had learned from
him to invent and suggest things in this endless game of “pretending.”
[Illustration]
But while it did her no harm at all, I am afraid it sometimes made
Johnny feel that the small, everyday chances which came in his way
were not worth much, and this was why his mother had made her little
suggestions about self-denial. So, though Johnny still hoped that he
could think of, or discover, some “great thing,” he resolved to be very
earnest, meanwhile, in looking out for the small ones.
He had just begun to study Latin, and it was costing him many groans, and
a good deal of hard work. He did not exactly rebel against it, for he
knew how particularly his father wished him to be a good Latin scholar,
but he expressed to Tiny, freely and often, his sincere wish that it had
never been invented.
He went back to school immediately after dinner, one day, in order to “go
over” his lesson once more. He had studied it faithfully the afternoon
before, but one great trouble with it was that it did not seem to “stay
in his head” as his other lessons did when he learned them in good
earnest.
“It’s just like trying to hang your hat up on nothing, mamma,” he said,
mournfully, as he kissed his mother goodbye.
He had counted on having the schoolroom entirely to himself, so he felt a
little vexed when he saw one of the smaller boys already at his desk in a
distant corner, and his “Hello, Ted! What’s brought you back so early?”
was not so cordial as it was inquiring.
He realized this, and felt a little ashamed of himself when Ted answered,
meekly,—
“I didn’t think I’d be in anybody’s way, Johnny, and if I don’t know my
map questions this afternoon, I’ve got to go down to the lower class!”
The little boy’s face looked very doleful as he said this; it would not
be pleasant to have his stupidity proclaimed, as it were, in this public
manner. Not that his teacher was doing it with any such motive as this.
Teddy had missed that particular lesson so frequently, of late, that Mr.
Lennox was nearly sure it was too hard for him, and that it would be only
right, for Teddy’s own sake, to put him in a lower class; and this was
why, if to-day’s lesson, which was unusually easy, proved too hard for
him, the change was to be made.
“You’re not in my way a bit, Ted,” said Johnny, heartily, “and this
bothering old Latin is as hard for me as your map questions are for you,
so we’ll be miserable together—‘misery loves company’ you know.”
With that Johnny sat down and opened his book, but his mind, instead of
settling on the lesson, busied itself with the unhappy little face in the
corner.
“But if I go over there and help him,” said Johnny, to himself, almost
speaking aloud in his earnestness, “I’ll miss my own lesson, sure!”
“And suppose you do,” said the other Johnny, “you will only get a bad
mark in a good cause, but if Teddy misses his, he will be humiliated
before the whole school.”
“But papa doesn’t like me to have bad marks.”
“Don’t be a mean little hypocrite, Johnny Leslie! If your father knew all
about it, which would he mind most, a bad mark in your report, or a worse
one in your heart? And besides, you’ve twenty-five minutes, clear. You
can do both, if you’ll not be lazy.”
That settled it—that, and a sort of fancy that he heard his mother
saying,—
“Even Christ pleased not Himself.”
He sprang up so suddenly that Teddy fairly “jumped,” and went straight
over to the corner, saying, as he resolutely sat down,—
“Here, show me what’s bothering you, young man, and perhaps I can help
you. Don’t stop to palaver—there’s no time!”
But Teddy really couldn’t help saying,—
“Oh, _thank_ you, Johnny!” and then he went at once to business.
“It’s all the capitals,” he said, “I can learn them fast enough, when
I’ve found them, but it does seem to me that the folks who make maps hide
the capitals and rivers and mountains, on purpose. Now, of course Maine
has a capital, I s’pose, but can you see it? I can’t, a bit.”
“Why, here it is, as plain as the nose on your face,” said Johnny, and
put his finger on it without loss of time.
Teddy screwed up his eyes and forehead as he looked at the map, saying
finally,—
“So it is! I _saw_ that, but it looked like ‘Atlanta,’ and I didn’t see
the star at all.”
This was repeated with almost every one; Teddy was unusually quick at
committing to memory, but he made what at first seemed to Johnny the most
stupid blunders in seeing. However, the lesson was learned, or rather,
Teddy was in a fair way to have it learned, and Johnny was back at his
Latin, fifteen minutes before the bell rang. And, to his astonishment,
the Latin no longer refused to be conquered. He had done good work at it,
the day before, better work than he knew, and now, feeling how little
time he had left, he studied with unusual spirit and resolution. When the
bell rang, he was quite ready for it, and his recitation that afternoon
was entirely perfect, for the first time since he began that terrible
study. He did not know how much more he had gained in the conquest of
his selfishness; but all large victories are built upon many small ones,
and the same is, if possible, even truer of all large defeats. Habit is
powerful, to help or to hinder.
And a most unexpected good to little Ted grew out of that day’s
experience; one of the things which prove, if it needs proving, that we
never can tell where the result of our smallest words and deeds will
stop. One of Johnny’s young cousins had recently been suffering much
from head-ache, which was at last found to be caused wholly by a defect
in her eyes. They saw unequally, and a pair of spectacles remedied the
defect and stopped the head-ache, beside affording much enjoyment for
the cousinhood over her venerable appearance. Johnny was puzzling over
Teddy’s apparent stupidity in one way, and evident brightness in another,
when he suddenly remembered his cousin Nanny, and clapped his hands,
saying to himself as he did so,—
“That’s it, I do believe! He can’t see straight!”
Johnny lost no time in suggesting this to Teddy, who, in his turn, spoke
of it to his mother. She had already begun to notice the strained look
about his eyes, and she took him at once to an oculist. The result was,
that he shortly afterward appeared in a pair of spectacles, and told
Johnny with some little pride,—
[Illustration]
“The eye doctor says that, as far as seeing goes, one of my eyes might
about as well have been in the back of my head; and it seems queer, but
everything looks different—I didn’t know so many things were straight!
And you won’t catch me missing my map questions any more! Why, the places
seem fairly to jump at me, now. And—and—I do hope I can do something for
you before long, Johnny, for it’s all your doing, you know. If you hadn’t
helped me that day, there’s no telling when I’d have found it out.”
“Don’t you worry about doing something for me, Ted,” said Johnny, kindly.
“You’ve done enough, just putting on those spectacles. You look exactly
like your grandfather seen through the wrong end of a spyglass!”