"You are waiting for me, are you, Ellie?" said Miss Layton, as she
locked the school-room door, and turning to go, saw the little girl
standing near, while her young companions were nearly all already out
of sight.
"Yes, ma'am," replied Ella; "I would rather walk with you, if you will
let me."
"Certainly, my dear child; I am always pleased to have your company.
You have done well to-day, my dear little girl; your lessons were well
recited, and your behaviour has been all that I could wish; and indeed,
I might say almost as much of all the days since your bad day, which
was nearly three weeks ago. I am very glad to be able to praise you."
Ella coloured with delight. "I have remembered what you said, Miss
Layton," said she, "and as soon as I get home, I always take my books,
and go away up stairs, where I can be quite alone, and study hard,
until I am sure that I know my lessons perfectly, and it doesn't take
nearly so long as I thought it would, and I have plenty of time to
play afterwards. And I do think it is the best plan, Miss Layton; for
sometimes we have company come in, in the evenings, and then I'm always
so glad that my lessons are all done and out of the way."
"Yes, my dear, you will find, all through life, that it always is best
to attend immediately to any duty you have to perform; you will never
have cause to regret it. Duty first and pleasure after, is a very good
motto for both children and grown up people."
"And I remember what you said about praying with my heart," said Ella,
"and when I kneel down to say my prayers, I say the words slowly, and
try to think of the meaning, and to really want what I ask for; and so
I find it easy to be good, and now I think I have found out how, and
that I shall be good always."
"Ah, my child," replied her teacher, "beware of self confidence. The
Bible says, 'Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he
fall.' I don't like to hear you talk of it being _easy_ to be good, for
I fear if you think it so easy, you will trust in your own strength,
and forget to ask help of God, and then you will be _sure_ to fall.
Remember how sure Peter was, that he would never deny his Master, and
yet how soon he committed that very sin.
"When we begin to trust in our own strength, God often leaves us to
ourselves, and suffers us to fall, that we may learn that our own
strength is perfect weakness. The Bible tells us that 'the heart is
deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked,' and so true is
this of the unrenewed heart, that we find it has naturally no love for
what is good and holy, but, on the contrary, a constant inclination
to that which is evil; so much so, that we cannot of ourselves resist
any temptation to sin, or even so much as think a good thought; we are
prone to do evil, and averse to what is good; our goodness is as the
morning cloud and the early dew which vanisheth away. Our only safety,
Ella, is in remembering our own weakness, and crying with David, 'Hold
thou me up, and I shall be safe.' You know Paul says, 'When I am weak,
then am I strong,' no doubt meaning, when I feel my own weakness and
look to God for strength, he strengthens me."
"Miss Layton," said Ella, "it is a great deal easier to be good at
school than at home; for you praise me when I am good, and seem
pleased to see me trying to do right, but aunt Prudence never does.
She says people don't deserve to be praised for doing their duty, and
no matter how hard I try to please her, she always finds something to
scold me for."
"I think your aunt is partly right and partly wrong," said Miss Layton.
"It certainly is true, in one sense, that people don't deserve praise
for doing only what it is their duty to do, but none of us would have
many blessings if we received only what we deserve, and I think it is
right and best to give praise because it encourages people in trying to
do well. But, Ella, though it is quite right that you should desire to
please your aunt, and your undoubted duty to do so, for she stands to
you in the place of your parents, whom God has commanded you to honour,
yet your highest motive should ever be to please God; and, though your
aunt may not notice your efforts, you may rest assured that not one
of your struggles to conquer your temper, or overcome your habits of
carelessness and indolence, remains unnoticed by him."
"Well, Miss Layton, I haven't been in a real passion for more than two
weeks, and I'm nearly sure I never will get into such a fit of rage, as
aunt Prudence calls it, again."
"Ah, Ella, don't be too confident," replied her teacher.
"Oh I'm _sure_ I won't, Miss Layton. I can't help getting a _little_
angry sometimes, but I'm certain almost that I never will get so
_dreadfully_ angry as I used to, for I know it is so ugly, and so
wicked."
Miss Layton shook her head doubtingly. "Time will show, Ella. Bad
habits are not so easily got rid of. But good bye, child," she added,
stooping and kissing the little girl's cheek, "you know you have to
turn off here."
"Good bye, Miss Layton," said Ella, "I mean to have real good lessons
to-morrow."
"Oh, Ella, how pretty your flowers are! won't you give me one?"
exclaimed a little girl who overtook Ella just as she was passing down
the lane which bounded that part of her aunt's grounds where her own
little garden was situated. Ella was naturally a very generous child.
"Yes, a good many more than one, Lucy," said she, "if you will wait
till I can get round to them, for you know the gate is round on the
other side."
"Oh, I'm in a dreadful hurry, Ellie," replied Lucy, "Mother told me not
to stop a minute, and I'm all out of breath with running. Can't you
climb the fence?"
"Well, if you're in such a _very_ great hurry I suppose I must for
once, though aunt Prudence wouldn't like it very much; but then she
always scolds me, and I guess she might about as well scold for one
thing as another," said Ella, and as she spoke, she threw her satchel
of books over, and then climbed the fence. In a moment she was on the
other side, and had gathered a handful of flowers and reached them
through the fence to Lucy, who still stood on the outside. Lucy ran on,
and Ella picked up her satchel and walked into the house.
Now it happened that Miss Prudence was in an unusually bad humour.
Everything had seemed to go wrong with her that day. A neighbour's boy
had left the garden gate open, and before it was noticed some pigs
had got in and destroyed a great many of her choicest vegetables and
flowers, and while she and Sallie, her maid, were engaged in chasing
them out, the cakes in the oven had nearly burnt to a cinder; and,
to crown all, Sallie, flurried by the scolding of her mistress, had
let fall and broken a much valued dish of old-fashioned china. In
consequence of these various mishaps Miss Prudence was in one of her
very _worst_ humours, which is saying a good deal, as she was not at
any time remarkably sweet-tempered.
"Your dress torn again, miss!" she exclaimed, the instant she caught
sight of her niece. "You've been climbing fences again, hey?"
"I didn't know it was torn," said Ella, looking down. "Where, aunt
Prudence? I don't see it."
"There! what do you call that?" said Miss Prudence, fiercely, taking
hold of the skirt of Ella's dress, and showing a small slit torn in one
of the breadths.
"Oh, that is only a _little_ hole, aunt Prudence," said Ella.
"A _little_ hole? Yes, but I'd like to know if you aren't _always_
tearing your clothes, and if you'd torn it all the way round, it would
have been all the same to you."
Ella's temper was rising, more from the tone than the words her aunt
had used, "I ain't _always_ tearing my clothes," said she, angrily,
"you _know_ I haven't torn one for a good while, and it's ever so long
since I climbed a fence till to-day."
"How dare you contradict me, you impertinent little hussy!" said aunt
Prudence, catching hold of her and shaking her violently, and boxing
her ears, then pushing her from her with such violence as to throw her
down.
"You're just the crossest woman in the world," exclaimed Ella,--now
thoroughly roused as soon as she recovered her breath sufficiently to
speak, "I don't care if I _do_ tear my clothes! I don't care if I tear
them all to pieces, and I shan't try to please you any more, for you're
just as cross as you can be; you're always scolding me, and never
praise me a bit when I try just as hard as I can to please you."
"Just walk right up stairs, and don't let me hear another word out of
your mouth, or see your face again to-day," said aunt Prudence; "if
I served you right I'd give you a good switching, and may be I'll do
it yet; but just walk straight up stairs, and stay there; for not a
mouthful of supper shall you have to-night."
"I won't!" said Ella, "I ain't going to be shut up in that hot room all
the afternoon. I'll stay out of doors," and she ran out as she spoke.
"We'll soon see that," said aunt Prudence, "we'll soon see who's
mistress," catching her by the arm and dragging her into the house.
Ella resisted with all the strength of passion; but in vain; her aunt
proved the stronger, and after a desperate battle succeeded in forcing
her up stairs and into her own room, where she shut her in, and locked
the door upon her, and then, putting the key in her pocket, walked down
stairs; while Ella, mad with rage, assailed the door with a shower of
kicks and blows, in the vain attempt to regain her liberty, at the same
time screaming at the top of her voice.
At length, completely exhausted by her own violence, she desisted, and
sitting down on the floor, she laid her head on a chair, and cried
herself to sleep.
When Ella waked, the moon was shining in at the window, everything
about the house was perfectly still, and feeling frightened at the
silence, and chilly from the night wind, which had been blowing on her,
she crept into bed without undressing, and soon fell asleep again.
It was long past her usual rising hour, when she waked again with a
confused feeling that something was wrong. She lay quiet a moment,
trying to collect her thoughts. Suddenly, she remembered her lessons;
she had not looked at them. Instantly springing from the bed, she
hastily washed her face, combed her hair, and smoothed her rumpled
dress as well as she could, and then tried the door. It was fast; she
was still a prisoner, and her satchel of books had been left in the
hall below. What should she do? she tried the door again and again; she
called aunt Prudence as loud as she could, but there was no answer, and
sitting down on the floor, she cried bitterly.
In about half an hour, aunt Prudence came, and unlocking the door,
ordered her niece to walk down stairs and eat her breakfast, which
command Ella very gladly obeyed, as she was very hungry; but, troubled
about her lessons, she hurried through her meal as fast as possible,
and as soon as she had finished, requested permission of her aunt to
leave the table, and get her books.
"No," replied Miss Prudence, sharply, "how often must I tell that it is
very bad manners to leave the table until every one has finished? Just
sit still and behave yourself; you'll not gain anything from me by that
vulgar habit you have of eating so fast."
It was almost more than Ella could bear, to have to sit there and watch
her aunt, who seemed to eat more slowly than she had ever known her
to do before, when she knew that she had scarcely time to learn her
lessons before the hour for school. At last, aunt Prudence pushed back
her chair, and rose from the table; Ella rose too, and hurried into the
hall to get her books.
"Come back here!" called out aunt Prudence. "What are you going to do?"
"I was just going to get my books, to learn my lessons."
"You'll do no such thing, till you've mended that dress. Get your
thimble, and sit down here alongside of me, and darn it. If you will
tear your clothes, I'm determined you shall mend them; and mind and do
it well, or I'll make you pick every stitch of it out, and do it over."
Poor Ella was in despair. "O aunt Prudence," said she, bursting into
tears, "I won't know my lessons, and Miss Layton will be so angry.
Mayn't I learn them now, and mend my dress when I come home from
school? Oh, do _please_ let me."
"No; I tell you, you shall mend it _just now_. I don't care if Miss
Layton _is_ angry. I only hope she'll give you a right good whipping,
for if you had behaved yourself last night, you might have had plenty
of time to learn your lessons."
Ella wiped away her tears, and commenced her work, for she knew that
crying was of no use, and would only hinder her from doing her work
quickly and well. She took a great deal of pains, and was very careful
not to make a single long stitch, and at last it was done, and very
nicely too, she thought, but when she showed it to her aunt, she was
told that it was puckered a little, and must all come out again.
"I can't do it a bit better, and I won't," said Ella, throwing the
dress on the floor.
"You shall," said her aunt. "Pick up that dress this minute, and do as
I bid you."
Ella neither moved to obey, nor answered a word.
"Sallie," called out Miss Prudence to the servant girl, who was in the
next room washing up the breakfast dishes, "bring me a switch, till I
make this child mind me."
"Yes, ma'am," replied Sallie; and the next minute she appeared at the
door with a switch, which she had just cut from the willow tree in the
yard.
"Pick up that dress," said Miss Prudence again, flourishing the switch.
Ella stood still, mute and obstinate. Aunt Prudence seized her by the
arm, and laid the switch over her shoulders with all her strength. Ella
bore it without a word.
"Now, will you mind me?" again inquired her aunt, pausing for breath.
"No!" said Ella.
"You'll not go one step to school till you do," said her aunt.
"I don't care; I don't want to go, when I don't know my lessons."
"Then you _shall_ go! Just take your bonnet, and start this minute.
I'll make you do something I bid you," said her aunt.
Ella obeyed, only too glad to get rid of doing her work over again;
though she had spoken truly in saying that she did not care to go to
school without knowing her lessons.
"The most high-tempered, obstinate child that ever breathed," said aunt
Prudence, turning away from the window, where she had been standing to
watch Ella out of the gate.
"Now," said Ella, talking to herself, as she had a habit of doing, as
she walked slowly along: "I can't get to school in time, and I'll be
sure to get a bad mark for attendance anyhow, so I may just as well
walk a little slower, and get my spelling lesson as I go along."
Ella had a very retentive memory, and was quite a good speller for a
child of her age, and as the lesson happened to be an easy one, she had
learned it quite perfectly by the time she had reached the school-house
door. The opening exercises were quite over when Ella entered the room.
Miss Layton looked up as she came in, and motioned to her to come to
her.
"How has it happened that you are so late this morning, my child?" said
she.
"I couldn't help it, Miss Layton; aunt Prudence made me stay to mend my
dress."
"That is a sufficient excuse," replied her teacher, "I am very glad,
Ella, that I can always believe what you say."
"I couldn't have got here quite in time, Miss Layton," said Ella, "but
I might have come a little sooner if I hadn't walked slowly, so as to
learn my spelling lesson on the way."
Miss Layton looked surprised, but made no remark, as it was now time
to call a class. Ella recited her spelling lesson perfectly, but made
several mistakes in her geography, which would indeed have been a total
failure, as she had not looked at her lesson, if it had not been the
day for reviewing that study, so that the lesson was one which she
had learned only a short time before, and had not entirely forgotten.
Grammar was the lesson she dreaded most, as she had only lately
commenced the study, and often found it difficult to understand and
commit it to memory. But that was not to be recited until after recess,
and she determined to spend her playtime in studying it.
Accordingly when the bell tapped for recess, she took her book in
her hand and slipped away to a corner of the play-ground where,
concealed by some bushes, she thought she might remain unnoticed by her
companions. But Ella was a favourite with most of her school-fellows,
and it was not long ere she was missed, and "Where's Ella?" "Where's
Ella?" "Didn't she come out?" "Do you know where she went to?" were the
questions which passed from mouth to mouth amongst a group of girls who
were preparing to commence a game of romps.
"What's the matter? what are you all talking about?" asked Sallie
Barnes, coming up to them.
"We're going to play 'Chickeny-crany-crow,' and we want Ella to be the
old witch, but we can't find her; do you know where she is?"
"Yes," said Sallie, "I saw her go behind those bushes. Come along
girls, and let's see what she's about. Some mischief, I'll be bound."
Half a dozen girls started at once on a full run across the play-ground
to the spot pointed out by Sallie.
"Why, Ellie, what _are_ you doing here? why don't you come and play?"
exclaimed Kate Townley pushing aside the bushes. "We want you this
minute."
"I'm learning my grammar," replied Ella, without looking up from her
book, "so don't talk to me, please, for I'm in a great hurry, because
it comes right away after recess, you know."
"Getting your lesson! getting it _now_, when it's almost time to say
it! I wonder if this is the pattern good girl, that always learns her
lessons just as soon as she gets home, and never allows herself a bit
of play till she knows them perfectly!" said Sallie, in a mocking tone.
"I do _almost_ always, Sallie, but I didn't last night, and so please
go away, and let me learn it now."
"Oh ho, now I remember this pattern girl missed quite a number of
questions in her geography, and if it had been that naughty girl Sallie
Barnes, she would have been kept in. Ah, it's a fine thing to be a
favourite, a very nice thing to be the teacher's pet!"
"It's no such thing," said Ella, angrily, "you know very well that Miss
Layton doesn't pet me; she treats us all alike."
"You're right, Ellie, so she does, at least according to the way we
behave," said Mary Young.
"What a shame of you to talk so, Sallie! you know Ellie didn't miss
more than two, and Miss Layton doesn't keep us in for that much," said
Kate.
"Well _I_ say she missed three or four," said Sallie, "and I'll be
bound she'll miss more than that in the grammar, for I happen to know
that it's pretty hard, and she'll be kept after school for that; and
then I hope Miss Layton will give her as good a whipping as she did
once before."
"She didn't; she never struck me in her life," said Ella.
"I know better; she did," said Sallie.
"That's a lie, and you know it is," said Ella, growing very angry.
"So I suppose you'll go and tell _dear_ Miss Layton, that Sallie Barnes
has been telling lies about you."
"No, I'll _not_," said Ella. "You know I won't, or you wouldn't dare to
talk so. I don't tell lies nor tales either; I would not stoop to do
anything so mean and wicked."
"So you mean to say I'm mean and wicked, a liar and a tell-tale! Never
mind, miss, I'll pay you for your impudence, one of these days."
"I don't think your stories hang together very well, Sallie," said
Mary Young. "First you say Miss Layton pets Ella, and then you say she
whipped her for what I know she wouldn't whip any other scholar for."
Sallie was saved the necessity of replying, for at that instant the
bell rang, and all hastened to the house.
"You have all recited very well excepting Ella," said Miss Layton, as
she dismissed the grammar class to their seats. "Ella, you must learn
this lesson over and recite it to me after school is dismissed."
"Ah, ha! I told you so!" whispered Sallie in Ella's ear.
Ella answered only with an angry look--it was against the rules to
speak, but Sallie did not care for that, for though she would have been
very ready to tell of Ella, she knew that Ella was much too honourable
to tell tales of her. As soon as the others had all gone, Ella took
her book to Miss Layton, and this time she recited her lesson quite
perfectly.
"You know it very well, now," said her teacher, handing the book back
to her. "What is it, my dear?" she asked, seeing the child hesitate.
"Had you something to say to me? Don't be afraid to tell me all that is
in your heart. If you are in trouble, perhaps I can help you, and if
you have done wrong, I will not judge you harshly," she added, drawing
the little girl towards her.
Ella threw her arms round her teacher's neck, and hiding her face on
her shoulder, burst into tears. Miss Layton stroked her hair, and
talked soothingly to her. Her heart yearned over the little motherless
child, who had no one to love her.
"O Miss Layton, I can never, never be good. It's no use to try," sobbed
the poor child.
"What new difficulty have you found, my darling? you told me it was
very easy last night."
"I'm afraid you will hate me, Miss Layton, if I tell you how wicked I
have been last night and this morning."
"Hate you, my child! far from it. I will love you the better for
acknowledging your faults. Tell me all about it, and perhaps I may be
able to help you to do better."
Ella related all the occurrences of that morning and the previous
evening, without attempting any palliation of her own conduct.
"I am very sorry, indeed, to hear all this, Ella," said Miss Layton.
"You have really been very naughty. In the first place, you ought not
to have climbed the fence; that was very wrong, because you knew that
your aunt had forbidden it."
"But Lucy wanted the flowers, and couldn't wait for me to go round to
the gate. What could I do, Miss Layton?"
"It would have been much better to let Lucy go without the flowers than
to disobey your aunt."
"But, Miss Layton, she _always_ scolds me! I can _never_ please her,
and I don't mean to try any more."
"O Ella, Ella! is this the end of all your good resolutions? Who is it
that says, 'Honour thy father and thy mother?'"
"But aunt Prudence isn't my mother," said Ella.
"No, my dear, but she occupies the place of a parent to you, and the
spirit of the command requires you to obey her."
"I can't please her, Miss Layton. I've tried and tried and tried, and
what's the use of trying any more?"
"Ah, Ella, if you had a new heart, if you were a child of God, you
would try to do right that you might please _him_; and you would not
give up in despair, though no one else noticed your efforts, or looked
upon you with approval. I am afraid, my child, that you love praise too
well; that you 'love the praise of men more than the praise of God.'"
"I don't _like_ to mind aunt Prudence! I wish I _didn't_ have to!"
"'This is the love of God, that we keep his commandments, and his
commandments are not grievous.' There is the test, Ella; by your fruits
you are to be known. God commands you to honour and obey your aunt, and
if that command is grievous to you, does it not show that you are not
one of his children?"
"I know I'm not, Miss Layton," said Ella, sadly. "I'm afraid I _never_
shall be a Christian, for I'm so very, very wicked, and I can't make
myself any better, for I've tried so hard, and I only seem to grow more
and more wicked, the more I try to be good."
"I am glad to hear you say so, Ella. I had much rather hear you talk
in that way, than as you did last night, because I know that a sense
of your own helplessness, of your own utter inability to make yourself
any better, is the first step towards feeling your need of the Saviour;
for as long as you think that there is any hope that you can heal
yourself, you will not apply to the Great Physician. 'Come unto me all
ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my
yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and
ye shall find rest unto your souls; for my yoke is easy, and my burden
is light!' That invitation is addressed to you, Ella, if you do, as I
hope, feel your sins to be a burden."
"I'm afraid it doesn't mean me, Miss Layton, for I'm afraid I don't
_want_ to be good. I feel just like giving it up and not trying any
more."
"Then, Ella, pray to God to _give_ you the desire; to make you want to
be good. Jesus said, 'Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after
righteousness, for they shall be filled.'"
"Won't you pray for me, Miss Layton?"
"I do, dear child, and will," said Miss Layton, kissing her; "but you
must pray for yourself; I cannot do the work for you--no one can; you
must pray and repent and believe for yourself."
"O Miss Layton, I wish I could live with you!" exclaimed Ella, "for
then I think I could be good."
Miss Layton smiled. "I am coming to live at your house, my dear; didn't
you know it? didn't your aunt tell you?"
"Oh no, ma'am; but are you, _really_? Oh, I am so glad, _so_ glad!" and
Ella clapped her hands, and fairly danced up and down with delight.
"Yes; Mrs. Price is tired of boarding me, and your aunt has agreed to
take me for the rest of the time that I shall be here."
"And when will you come, Miss Layton? Oh, do come soon!"
"To-morrow evening, my dear; but, Ella, I shall not like to live with
you, if you are going to be such a naughty girl as you were last night
and this morning."
"Oh no, indeed, I'll not; I should be ashamed to be so bad before you."
"And do you feel more respect for _me_--a weak, sinful mortal--than for
the great God? more ashamed and afraid to do wrong in my presence, than
in his?"
"O Miss Layton, I can't see him, and I forget that he sees me."
"Do you think that that excuse will avail you in the judgment-day,
Ella? The Bible tells us, 'The wicked shall be turned into hell, and
all they that forget God.' O Ella, when you are tempted to do wrong,
remember these words: 'Thou God seest me;' and O my child, never, never
dare to do in his presence, what you would be ashamed or afraid to do
before any earthly being."
"I'm very sorry I was so naughty," said Ella, "and I'll tell aunt
Prudence so, and ask her to forgive me, and I'll do as she bids me, and
mend the dress over again if she says I must; though I'm sure I can't
do it any better."
"Ask forgiveness of God too, Ella."
"Yes, ma'am, I will."
* * * * *
"I'm sorry I was so naughty and so impertinent to you last night and
this morning, aunt Prudence," said Ella, coming up to her aunt, on her
return from school. "Will you please to forgive me, and I'll try to
mind you next time."
"Oh yes, it's all very well to say you're sorry now, but it'll be just
the very same thing again, the very next time you're in a bad humour."
"Shall I rip that darn out, and do it over now, aunt Prudence?"
"No; I've had bother enough with it already; let it alone."