VIOLETS AND ROSES.
A few days passed by, and there came a letter from papa saying that
mamma was feeling better. This was very delightful to the little girls
and Johnnie, though they had had a talk before it came about the duty of
being sorrowful under the circumstances. It happened this way: they were
outdoors playing May Queen.
"I never saw anything so sweet as these violets," cried Edith, in a
rapture. They were as sweet as they could be, little English violets,
white as snow, and perfuming the air. The flowers had come to Virginia
early in the new spring, and already there were early roses, slender
lilies of the valley, with tiny cups to catch the dewdrops, and the
fragrant yellow jasmine flinging its golden bells over every roadside
fence and tree. Old Uncle Moses had taken the children to the woods, and
there they had seen the jasmine in its glory, and the white stars of the
dogwood shining through the green branches far and near.
"'Pears like," said Uncle Moses, after one of these expeditions, "'pears
like God must love posies, de way he scatter dem roun' dis yer land."
For all that Miss Josephine had been left at home, the little girls had
not been obliged to live without a doll. Kind Aunt Maria had given them
each one soon after their arrival. Out in the garden, then, with the
dollies, Luce full of enthusiasm, and barking and rolling like an
animated puff-ball, or else sitting up as straight as a judge, they were
playing queen. Mabel had just fastened the wreath on Edith's head, when
Johnnie very gravely observed,
"I think we are heartless wretches."
"Johnnie, where _do_ you learn those big words?"
"Well, we're having such nice times, and never thinking of poor mamma.
We ought to be miserable, if we had any feeling. I heard Aunt Chloe the
other day say, 'Pore things, dey a'n't ole 'nuff to know what dey'd
lose, if dey done lose dere mudder.'"
[Illustration]
Mabel's ready tears began to flow.
"O dear! O dear!" she sobbed, "mamma is going to die! What shall we do?"
"Hush, Mabel!" said Edith. "If we ought not to play, why we'll stop; but
there isn't any use in crying so. Do please hush this instant."
A quick step came down the walk. The children, looking up, saw the young
lady who lived in the next house. She had a sunbonnet on her head, and a
light shawl was thrown around her, and in her hand was a pretty little
bark canoe, in which was her knitting-work.
"O Miss Rose, beautiful Miss Rose!" exclaimed Edith, "you're the very
person we wanted to see."
"Mith Rothe, when thith canoe geth too old for you, you'll give it to
me, won't you?" said Mabel, putting her hands lovingly up towards the
fanciful basket.
"Mabel," Johnny said in a tone of reproof, "how often has mamma told you
never to ask for things in that way?"
"Never mind your little sister, Johnnie," the young lady said, "but sit
down and let me hear why you were all looking so serious when I came up.
What lovely garlands you have made, and what a charming morning this is!
God is very good to give us so many bright days, and so much joy in
them, isn't he?"
Before any one could reply, a servant came up, with a request that the
children would go to their Aunt Maria on the porch, and hear a message
from their mother.
"Good! good!" Johnnie said, clapping his hands; but Edith and Mabel went
more soberly. Miss Rose seated herself in a favorite spot of hers, a
rustic chair under the oak-tree, and waited their return. She was fond
of children, and since the little visitors had been there, she had often
gone in with her knitting to talk and play with them.
After they had heard the letter, they were dismissed by Mrs. MacLain,
who had her key-basket on her arm, and was very busy with her
housekeeping. They trooped back to their friend Miss Rose, and grouped
themselves around her, and the little girls began to weave a wreath for
her hair, while Johnnie made her a bouquet.
"The question is, Miss Rose, whether we ought to be happy while we are
away from mamma and papa."
"And while mamma is sick."
"And perhaps might die."
Miss Rose put her work down on her lap, and with one soft hand smoothed
away the thick curls that had a way of falling over and shading
Johnnie's forehead and eyes. She thought to herself, "What a pretty boy
he is! How noble and open and candid those eyes and that brow!" Johnnie
was a very truthful little fellow, and though he had faults, he would
have scorned to tell a lie or do anything mean. At this moment Charlie
Hill, Aunt Chloe's boy, passed by with his fishing-rod and line. So
Johnnie could not stay to hear Miss Rose then. He caught up his straw
hat, seized his shrimp-net, and ran off, without even saying, "Excuse
me."
"That wath very imperlite," observed Mabel. "And Johnnie began asking
the questions too! He ithn't very thad."
"Dear children," said Miss Rose, "you are only little and young, to be
sure, but you may as well learn that God never wants you to _try_
to be miserable. He means you to be as merry and happy as you can be.
Consider a minute. Have you ever been very unhappy when you have been
good?"
"No," said Edith.
"I have," said Mabel, "when I've had the teethache."
Miss Rose laughed.
"Well, that was a pretty good cause; but generally, when children are
not naughty, they are happy. You would only vex your dear mamma, and
make her feel badly, if you were moping and fretting here, where she
sent you to be with your auntie. Then you would spoil auntie's pleasure
if, instead of laughing and singing, you were crying and sitting in the
corner. She would say, 'O dear, what queer children these are! I'll be
glad when they're gone away.'"
"That would be dreadful! to have Aunt Maria think that," said Edith.
"But tell us your opinion about it."
"My opinion is, that it is every one's duty to be as cheerful as he can
be all the time. If things vex us and trouble us, let us say, 'Never
mind.' If it rains to-day, it will be clear to-morrow. If we pray to our
Father, about everything, we will never need to be sorrowful long."
Then Miss Rose taught them a pretty little verse:
"Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you."
Kneeling that night by her little white bed, Edith said her prayers as
usual, and then added another petition:
"Dear Lord Jesus, make me happy every night and day, so that I shall
love everybody, and everybody love me."
Edith was already one of those children whose lives are like "a little
light, within the world to shine."