1. A few years since, a child was lost in the woods. He was out with his
brothers and sisters gathering berries, and was accidentally separated
from them, and lost. The children, after looking in vain for some time in
search of the little wanderer, returned, just in the dusk of the evening,
to inform their parents that their brother was lost and could not be
found.
2. The woods, at that time, were full of bears. The darkness of a cloudy
night was rapidly coming on, and the alarmed father, gathering a few of
his neighbors, hastened in search of the lost child. The mother remained
at home, almost distracted with suspense.
3. As the clouds gathered, and the darkness increased, the father and the
neighbors, with highly excited fears, traversed the woods in all
directions, and raised loud shouts to attract the attention of the child.
But their search was in vain. They could find no trace of the wanderer;
and, as they stood under the boughs of the lofty trees, and listened, that
if possible they might hear his feeble voice, no sound was borne to their
ears but the melancholy moaning of the wind as it swept through the thick
branches of the forest.
4. The gathering clouds threatened an approaching storm, and the deep
darkness of the night had already enveloped them. It is difficult to
conceive what were the feelings of that father. And who could imagine how
deep the distress which filled the bosom of that mother, as she heard the
wind, and beheld the darkness in which her child was wandering!
5. The search was continued in vain till nine o'clock in the evening.
Then, one of the party was sent back to the village, to collect the
inhabitants for a more extensive search. The bell rung the alarm, and the
cry of fire resounded through the streets. It was ascertained, however,
that it was not fire which caused the alarm, but that the bell tolled the
more solemn tidings of a lost child.
6. Every heart sympathized in the sorrows of the distracted parents. Soon,
multitudes of the people were seen ascending the hill, upon the declivity
of which the village stood, to aid in the search. Ere long, the rain began
to fall, but no tidings came back to the village of the lost child. Hardly
an eye was that night closed in sleep, and there was not a mother who did
not feel for the parents.
7. The night passed away, and the morning dawned, and yet no tidings came.
At last, those engaged in the search met together and held a consultation.
They made arrangements for a more minute search, and agreed that, in case
the child was found, a gun should be fired, to give a signal to the rest
of the party.
8. As the sun arose, the clouds were scattered, and the whole landscape
glittered in the rays of the bright morning. But that village was deserted
and still. The stores were closed, and business was hushed. Mothers were
walking the streets, with sympathizing countenances and anxious hearts.
There was but one thought in every mind: "What has become of the lost
child?"
9. All the affections and interest of the neighborhood were flowing in one
deep and broad channel toward the little wanderer. About nine in the
morning, the signal gun was fired, which announced that the child was
found; and, for a moment, how dreadful was the suspense! Was it found a
mangled corpse? or was it alive and well?
10. Soon, a joyful shout proclaimed the safety of the child. The shout was
borne from tongue to tongue, till the whole forest rang again with the
joyful sound. A messenger rapidly bore the tidings to the distracted
mother. A procession was immediately formed by those engaged in the
search. The child was placed upon a platform, hastily formed from the
boughs of trees, and borne in triumph at the head of the procession. When
they arrived at the brow of the hill, they rested for a moment, and
proclaimed their success with three loud and animated cheers.
11. The procession then moved on till they arrived in front of the
dwelling where the parents of the child resided. The mother, who stood at
the door, with streaming eyes and throbbing heart, could no longer
restrain herself or her feelings.
12. She rushed into the street, clasped her child to her bosom, and wept
aloud. Every eye was filled with tears, and, for a moment, all were
silent. But suddenly some one gave a signal for a shout. One loud, and
long, and happy note of joy rose from the assembled multitude, and they
went to their business and their homes.
13. There was more joy over the one child that was found than over the
ninety and nine that went not astray. Likewise, there is joy in the
presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth. But still,
this is a feeble representation of the love of our Father in heaven for
us, and of the joy with which the angels welcome the returning wanderer.
14. The mother can not feel for her child that is lost as God feels for
the unhappy wanderer in the paths of sin. If a mother can feel so much,
what must be the feelings of our Father in heaven for those who have
strayed from his love? If man can feel so deep a sympathy, what must be
the emotions which glow in the bosom of angels?
DEFINITIONS.--l. Sep'a-rat-ed, parted. 2. Dis-tract'ed, made crazy.
Sus-pense', doubt, uncertainty. 3. Trav'ersed, passed over and examined.
5. As-cer-tained', made certain. 6. Sym'pa-thized, felt for.
De-cliv'i-ty, descent of land. 7. Con-sul-ta'tion, a meeting of persons to
advise together. 8. Land'scape, a portion of territory which the eye can
see in a single view. 10. Pro-claimed', made known publicly. 11.
Pro-ces'sion, a train of persons walking or riding. l3.
Rep-re-sen-ta'tion, the act of describing or showing.
LXII. WHICH? (168)
By MRS. E. L. BEERS.
1. Which shall it be? Which shall it be?
I looked at John--John looked at me;
Dear, patient John, who loves me yet
As well as though my locks were jet.
And when I found that I must speak,
My voice seemed strangely low and weak:
"Tell me again what Robert said!"
And then I, listening, bent my head.
"This is his letter:"
2. "'I will give
A house and land while you shall live,
If, in return, from out your seven,
One child to me for aye is given.'"
I looked at John's old garments worn,
I thought of all that John had borne
Of poverty, and work, and care,
Which I, though willing, could not share;
I thought of seven mouths to feed,
Of seven little children's need,
And then of this.
3. "Come, John," said I,
"We'll choose among them as they lie
Asleep;" so, walking hand in hand,
Dear John and I surveyed our band.
First to the cradle light we stepped,
Where Lilian the baby slept,
A glory 'gainst the pillow white.
Softly the father stooped to lay
His rough hand down in loving way,
When dream or whisper made her stir,
And huskily he said: "Not her!"
4. We stooped beside the trundle-bed,
And one long ray of lamplight shed
Athwart the boyish faces there,
In sleep so pitiful and fair;
I saw on Jamie's rough, red cheek,
A tear undried. Ere John could speak,
"He's but a baby, too," said I,
And kissed him as we hurried by.
5. Pale, patient Robbie's angel face
Still in his sleep bore suffering's trace:
"No, for a thousand crowns, not him,"
He whispered, while our eyes were dim.
6. Poor Dick! bad Dick! our wayward son,
Turbulent, reckless, idle one--
Could he be spared? "Nay, He who gave,
Bade us befriend him to the grave;
Only a mother's heart can be
Patient enough for such as he;
And so," said John, "I would not dare
To send him from her bedside prayer."
7. Then stole we softly up above
And knelt by Mary, child of love.
"Perhaps for her 't would better be,"
I said to John. Quite silently
He lifted up a curl that lay
Across her cheek in willful way,
And shook his head. "Nay, love, not thee,"
The while my heart beat audibly.
8. Only one more, our eldest lad,
Trusty and truthful, good and glad
So like his father. "No, John, no--
I can not, will not let him go."
9. And so we wrote in courteous way,
We could not drive one child away.
And afterward, toil lighter seemed,
Thinking of that of which we dreamed;
Happy, in truth, that not one face
We missed from its accustomed place;
Thankful to work for all the seven,
Trusting the rest to One in heaven!
DEFINITIONS.--2. Aye, always, 3. Sur-veyed', took a view of. 5. Crown, an
English silver coin worth about $1.20. 6. Way-ward, willful. Tur'bu-lent,
disposed to disorder. 9. Cour'te-ous, polite. Ac-cus'tomed, usual.