LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Chap^P.Z.7 Copyright No._ Shelf..j.D^3 * UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. * i . % ft V Sunny H?our Scrtrs. — Uol. K Bertha’s Garden AND OTHER STORIES % _ .BY Anna Burnham Bryant BOSTON pilgrim press CHICAGO (p NOV 211899 ^ r Y OS O > 4B996 Copyright, 1899, By Anna Burnham Bryant. TWO COPIES RECEIVED. (a? • <£*>*: .'3. V '3<5 . CONTENTS PAGE Bertha’s Garden.5 Mother’s Last Word . . . . . 11 “An Old Hen-biddy” ..... 15 Benny’s Garden.19 Little Miss Not-afraid.22 What Made the Difference . . . . 27 Cheer Up !.31 Dolly’s Giant Story . . . . . 32 For Baby’s Sake.35 A Birthday Resolution.40 Why They Were Late.41 The Fire-shine.46 A Lesson by Heart.48 Her Little Verse . . . . . . 51 Two Little Texts. 56 Baby’s Rhyme.. . 57 note: By the courtesy of The Youth's Companion , Wide Awake , Happy Hours , and some other papers, these little stories are here reprinted for the Sunday-school library. BERTHA'S GARDEN ERTHA was up early every morn¬ ing, and outdoors with her little rake and shovel and her garden hat on, for papa had given her a dear little spot for her very own, and she meant to make sure of having it full of the prettiest flowers. She could n’t understand why mamma had seemed to care so much about the shape of it. Mamma said it must be heart-shaped —just like this : Bertha thought that was a j very pretty shape, and of course it could be as mamma liked. Another thing about that gar- 6 BERTHA'S GARDEN den was that there were to be no weeds in it. That, too, was just what Bertha wanted, so she and mamma seemed to be quite of the same mind. “What for should I want weeds in my garden?” she asked, laughing at the idea. “ That is n’t what papa gives it to me for! ” “ No, indeed,” said mamma, “ but you will find out that it takes a good deal of watching to keep the weeds down.” “Oh, I’ll watch! and watch!” promised Bertha. Bertha made a little book to keep the names of the flowers in that she planted You know that flowers in the beginning are nothing but little brown seeds that look no more like flowers than anything. And even if you can tell the seeds apart when you hold them in your hand, once they are covered up in the ground you cannot tell, and it is no use trying to remember where you put them. I have tried it many a time. So, as I said, Bertha had a book. Away down at the point of the garden-heart she put some bright blue AND OTHER STORIES 7 larkspurs. Then there were “ touch-me-not balsams,” all colors, and pinks and asters and bluebells, for everybody gave her seeds, and Bertha planted every one. I could not begin to tell you all the flowers that went into that garden-bed. And for a border there was an edge of pansies that went clear round the bed. Mamma had a book, too. Her garden was heart-shaped, like Bertha’s. But the queerest flowers went down in it — if they were flowers! Some of them anybody would know were nothing but weeds and poison plants ; but mother used to sigh when she talked about it, and said that she did not know 8 BERTHA'S GARDE AT how to pull up the weeds in this garden. They were stronger than she was. One day she told Bertha that she should certainly try to find somebody to help her. “ Where is your old garden?” said Ber¬ tha crossly. “ I never see it. You only talk about it, but you never show it to me.” “ I can’t show you the garden,” said mam¬ ma soberly, “ but I will let you see the picture of it in my book, and what is planted in it.” When Bertha looked, she saw only the figure of a heart marked “Bertha’s Garden,” and there were dreadful pictures of tall weeds among the flowers, with names like these: “Crossness,” “Selfishness,” “Thoughtless¬ ness,” “ Disobedience.” And they grew so coarse and tall, with great rough leaves like bur- AND OTHER STORIES 9 docks and thorns and spines like thistles, that they quite overshadowed the few real flowers that tried to grow among them. There was a little pink rose called “ Love/’ and a blue “ Forget-me-not ” of “ Kindness,” but it was a sad-looking gar¬ den, and mamma looked very sorry as she looked at it. “ O mamma, I know what you mean ! ” sobbed Bertha, hiding her face on mamma’s shoulder. “You think my heart looks like that to God.” “ Yes,” said mamma, “ and it can’t look any different till you get Jesus to help you take care of it. You know that I cannot really BERTHA'S GARDEN IO keep it for you. If I should help you pull up a few weeds, they would soon grow again. And no matter what good seeds I plant, they never will grow and blossom unless you give it in charge to the Good Gardener. He is the only one who can make it ‘ fair to see. AND OTHER STORIES I I MOTHER'S LAST WORD O matter what the errand was, mother always had one last word to say about it. When, the little hat or hood was on, and the pail or bas¬ ket swinging from the arm, we always came and stood be¬ fore her and heard her say : — “ Now, dear, how are you going on this 1 errand for mamma ? ” “ Right straight there and back again ! ” was the answer to be given. “And suppose you meet anybody by the way r 12 BERTHA'S GARDEN “ Mind nossing at all about zem! ” little Ellie used to say, as all the others did, from big brother down. “ But what if they ask you to do some bad thing that you know mamma would n’t like ? ” “ I ’ll say, ‘ No, I won’t do it! ’ ” “ But if they coax and beg you ?” “ Why, then,” said Ellie, with bright, flash¬ ing eyes, “ I ’ll say, My mamma says, ‘ Say NO! ’ ” When mamma heard that, she laughed and cried and kissed her, and said : — “ If you ’ll only say that always, I ’ll trust you anywhere! ” Thy soul’s a lily, fair and white, As fresh and lovely in God’s sight — An innocent sweet bloom. Ask him, dear child, where’er you go, To help to keep it ever so. AND OTHER STORIES 13 BERTHA'S GARDEN 14 “ Ah, ha! oh, ho ! ” says the little black crow.i “ I ’m watching your corn to see it grow, Watching and tending it day by day, I’m a wise old crow, with no time for play.” AND OTHER STORIES 15 “AN OLD HEN-BIDDY ” HERE ’S just the silliest old hen- biddy out there in the yard that ever you saw! ” cried Alice, running in with her sun- bonnet off and all her curls flying. “Why, what has she done?” cried Uncle Frank, behind the big newspaper. “ Stands and clucks at the chickens the whole forenoon if she sees them going any¬ where near the edge of the bank where the ducks are. Of course the chickens want to go in too — and / don’t believe ’t would hurt ’em, either! ” 6 BERTHA'S GARDEN “Goosie!” said Uncle Frank, and just then he forgot to say anything more, for his eye caught a paragraph in the paper that he wanted to read, and he never thought of Alice or her hen-biddy afterward. But out in the yard Alice was finding out for herself just why she was a goose, without anybody’s helping. When she ran out, there AND OTHER STORIES I7 was Mrs. Hen in a terrible flutter and two of her little chicks tipped up sidewise in the water, their little yellow claws on top, and their poor little draggled heads too deep for drinking. They had not minded the mother- v hen’s scolding and went for a little swim in spite of all she could say about it. It did not take Alice half a minute to fish the two little wet bunches of feathers out and set them where they would dry; and while she was doing it, she scolded them. “Thought you did a smart thing when your mother said ‘ Don’t>’ to go and do it, didn’t you?” she said, watching their eyes open. “As if your mother didn’t know! That’s the way boys and girls act when their folks say ‘Don’t touch things!’ ‘Let rum and whiskey alone ! ’ ‘ Don’t go into bad comp’ny ! ’ And they think their folks don’t know anything, and so they get wet and mizzable ! ” “ Good for you ! ” shouted somebody from the back window, and Alice looked up just in time to see Uncle Frank’s laughing eyes. i8 BERTHA'S GARDEN '< . \ i BENNY’S GARDEN AND OTHER STORIES 19 BENNY'S GARDEN ’S garden was full of weeds. I don’t mean to say that it was very different from other little boys’ gar¬ dens. Sister Minna had a garden, too, which she kept like the parlor carpet. I’d like to have seen you try to find a weed or a chip or a bit of paper blown over the fence in¬ to it! She had the sweetest flowers growing there, and often filled the parlor vases. Sometimes she came over and looked at Benny’s garden, and went back feeling very proud of herself. 20 BERTHA'S (PARDEN And sometimes Benny came over, and went back with a very different look on his face. “Do you know what I would do?” said Cousin Margie, who was visiting at their house. “ I would spend half an hour a day on Benny’s garden, every day of my life, and show the little fellow how to do it. Why, he is all discouraged ! ” Half the time, it is n’t real unkindness that makes people seem unkind. They just don’t think to be kind, that’s all. It wasn’t half a minute before good little Minna had her sun- bonnet on and her rake and other garden tools in hand, and when Cousin Margie looked out of the window, a few minutes later, she saw just what you see in the large picture on the full page. “That’s the way, Benny!” Minna is say¬ ing kindly. “ You rake up all the straw and sticks and stones that blow in from the street, and you pull the weeds up. See me do it! ” I like to think that Jesus saw her do it, and was glad. He says his children must be loving to each other. AND OTHER STORIES 21 22 BERTHA'S GARDEN LITTLE MISS NOT-AFRAID OU know in the “Pilgrim’s Prog¬ ress ” there is a story about a man who had a daughter called Much-afraid. Janie used to think that was the f u n n i e s t story! “ I should n’t like to be called Miss Much-afraid! ” she would say, laughing. “I’m not afraid of things, except going up to bed all alone and hooking cows and bow-wow doggies! ” “When you get over being afraid of those, I ’ll call you Miss Not-afraid,” £§§§$ promised mamma. AND OTHER STORIES 23 But when a little girl is afraid of things, you know it is very hard to get over it all in a' minute. And many a time that summer little Janie got the name she did n’t like, and had to start all over again trying to be brave and trustful, in the dark as well as the day¬ light. Mother used to have a great many talks about it with her, and she told her how 24 BERTHA'S GARDEN much she hoped that as she grew older she would learn the real^ secret of courage. “ What is the sequit ? ” asked Janie. “Just trusting in your heavenly Father,” mamma told her. “ Be¬ cause, you see, he loves you better than any¬ body in the world can ever love you, and he is so strong and wise that he can do anything in the world to help you. So there is nothing to be afraid of. Just ask him to take all the care of you.” AND OTHER STORSES 2 5 One day Janie got lost. I don’t know how it happened. I suppose she wandered off a little way from the house, and then a pretty flower tempted her to go a little farther, and something else drew her on a few steps more, and the first thing she knew she could n’t find the way back again. It is a dreadful feeling. What do you think Janie did ? All at once in her fright and her tears a happy little thought crept into her heart. God sent it. “Trust in God!” it said. “Tell Jesus about it! ” So the little girl knelt right down there by a mossy log and did as the good thought told her. Then she felt better, and she did n’t cry any more, though she was all alone on the edge of the woods, and the house seemed as far off as ever. Somehow she did not feel afraid, but just as if Jesus was looking out for her. She ate some berries that grew close by, and chased some butterflies and then she sat down and made a bouquet of her posies, and then — then — then — she fell asleep ! 26 BERTHA'S GARDEN And that was the way they found her late that afternoon, almost night- fall, when they came through the tall grass and up to the edge of the woods where she had wandered. Oh, how glad they were! “You poor little thing! ” cried mamma. “How frightened you must have been ! ” “ Why, no, I was n’t! ” said Janie, cuddling close in her father’s arms as they carried her home. “ I ’membered about our heavenly Father— what you told me, you know ! ” “You darling!” said mamma. ' “Well, you’ve earned your name. After this, no¬ body shall ever call you Miss Much-afraid.” “ No,” laughed Janie. “ You’ve all got to say Miss Not-afraid, ’cause it’s true now. I’ve found out the way to make it! ” AND OTHER STORIES 2 7 WHAT MADE THE DIFFERENCE I. “ I do’ want anybody to have any of my things! ” screamed Mamie, throwing herself flat on the blue-covered couch, with her head down at the foot and her feet on the pillow. “Well, nobody’s going to touch your things, Crosspatch! ” said Jamie, putting back the picture-book he had taken up for a minute. “ Nice, selfish girl you are ! ” 28 BERTHA'S GARDEN “Don’t speak so, Jamie!” said mamma. “ Mamie, come to me and have your curls brushed out.” “ Better brush the kinks out of something else!” muttered Jamie, shutting the door hard behind him. Poor mamma! with two such children. Mamie was selfish and Jamie “answered back.” It made the house a dreadful place to live in. I wonder sometimes what kind of a home they thought it was for the Lord Jesus. AND OTHER STORIES 2 9 II. “Would you play dollies first, or go out and swing awhile ? ” Jennie had her arms around Katie, and Katie had her arms around Jennie, and they were both looking at the'lovely doll-house that Jennie’s Uncle Jack hadjust brought all the way from Santa Claus land, if you know where that is. That is where he said he got it. 30 BERTHA’S GARDEN “Oh, aren't they sweet!” said Katie, looking at the dollies. “ But my new ham¬ mock-swing is nice, too, and we could sit together in it under the trees and hear the birds sing. Do, please, try my swing, Jennie! ” “ All right,” said Jennie, “ if you will come and play house afterwards. Are n’t you glad we live right across the road from each other, so we can always play with each other’s things ? I should n’t like my dollies half so well if you did n’t help me dress and undress them.” “ Nor I,” said Katie, taking hold of hands and hop-skipping off with her little friend down to the pleasant orchard where the ham¬ mock swung. “ It’s all the fun to do nice things together.” AND OTHER STORIES 31 CHEER UP I Cheer up, cheer up, my darling! And never mind the storm; Drear skies and cloudy weather But keep us close together, So cosy, safe and warm. Cheer up, cheer up, my darling! And heed my happy rhyme; In low, brown beds a-sleeping. The patient flowers are keeping Their buds for blossom-time. 32 BERTHA'S GARDEN DOLLY'S GIANT STORY Once there was a giant. But I must begin at the other end of the story. Once there was a great mountain. The mountain was full of gold. Now you know gold is the most precious thing in the world, some people think. It is a real Aladdin’s lamp, and with it in your hand you can do and have and be al¬ most anything in this world. And when people found that this great mountain was full of it, the next thing was to break open this wonderful bank and get it. That was not easy to do. They picked away at the locks here and there; that is, they dug little holes and tun- AND OTHER STORIES 33 nels in the red clayey earth, and they took up panfuls of the loose soil and washed out the little yellow specks in it. But the gold lay down deep in the dark heart of the mountain, and the people grew discouraged about ever getting at it. One day a man came along and said, “ Why don’t you get a giant to help you ? I know one strong enough to break this old mountain all in pieces and carry it off on his shoulders.” How the men stared at that! “ Why,” they said, “ bring us your giant, and you shall have gold, and plenty of it! ” But when he brought the giant they laughed at him. Giant indeed! He was no bigger than a candle, and looked much like one. “ Never you mind his looks! ” said the man. “Just drill a little hole for him to lie in among the rocks of this mountain, and give him some fire to eat, and see what he will do.” The man was right after all. 34 BERTHA'S GARDEN They made a deep hole in the rock for him, and they gave him “fire to eat ” (that is, touched a match to the long fuse he liked to carry around with him), and presto! the rocks flew, the mountain gates were open, and the glittering gold-specks gleamed in every fragment of rock. Since that nobody has despised little Giant Powder. AND OTHER STORIES 35 FOR BABY'S SAKE ]\ /TY dears ! ” said mother, IVJL looking at the baby. But she was n’t speak¬ ing to the baby. I am afraid we were a rather rough-speaking set of boys and girls, take us all together. We had ways of saying “ Don’t touch!” and “Take care, there ! ” and “ No, I did n’t! ” and such things, in a sharp voice that used to make mother look up and shake her head at us. Not that we meant to quarrel, but we* were not gentle. When the baby came, it made a difference. Some children’s mothers are always saying, “ What will people think if you happen to do a thing?” Our mother used to say, “ What 36 BERTHA'S GARDEN will baby think?’’—just as if it were a great deal of matter. And it seemed as if baby himself got an idea of it, and used to follow us round with his eyes and watch us, and make up his mind what kind of boys and girls we were. Why, you don’t know how ashamed we used to get sometimes ! He was always after our toy soldiers and books and games, and tried to play just as we did. So, if you had lived in our house, you would have noticed that every time our voices got loud or we began any squabbling, mother would begin to say, “ My dears! ” and look at the baby. It was quite wonderful to see how our voices would soften, and how the one that was bad would be willing to AND OTHER STORIES 37 kiss and make up, for baby’s sake. It would be such a dreadful thing, as mamma said, to have him grow up with bad manners. But one day we did something that got baby and all into trouble. There was a barrel of something that was better than candy right in the corner of the pantry. Mother would n’t let us have candy. She said it was bad for chil¬ dren, except a little at Christmas and Thanksgiv¬ ing and birthdays. But she used to let us have lumps of sugar. You khow what they are — little square pieces, white and sweet and sparkling, like snow-crust on a cold, sunny morning. How we did like to crunch those sugars! Just three pieces apiece, every day, and not any more, though the barrel stood there all the time, and there always was a plenty more that we could have. “ I’m so hungry for a lump ! ” began Bessy, 38 BERTHA'S GARDEN the minute mother 5 back was turned, one morning when she had to go down town for something. “There, children,” mother had said just before she went, “ you can each have some cam¬ bric tea, and some of these little biscuits and play party, while I am gone. It \s all sweetened — let the sugar alone. The doctor says it is n’t good for baby till he gets quite well again.” She put down the tray, and soon we saw her go¬ ing down the snowy road, and we turned to see' about our “ tea-party.” “ I’m so hungry for a lump ! ” said Bessy again. Nobody said anything, and Bessy kept hanging round the sugar- barrel as if she thought she could get a AND OTHER STORIES 39 taste through the cracks. It isn’t safe to hang around places that you want to get into. The next thing we knew, Bessy had a whole handful of lumps and was eating them ! And then what do you suppose we did? Helped our own selves, and took just as many as Bess did ! We felt so mean, but we did it! And worst of all, we looked around, and there was that baby on the floor with the cover off the fine-sugar bucket, and he was eating it by the spoonful! If he could n’t have lumps, he meant to get the next best thing. Right in the middle, in walked our mother ! Not one of us — baby or anybody — got an¬ other bit of sugar for a week. To think of our getting that poor little baby punished ! I promise you we are n’t going to be so mean again — for baby’s sake. 40 BERTHA'S GARDEN A BIRTHDAY RESOLUTION This is my picture. Says mamma, " My dear, my dear, how changed you are 1 I hardly know at all If’t is the little girl I knew, With yellow curls and eyes of blue, When you were very small." She didn’t say (what I can see She thinks whene’er she looks at me, And lets a bright tear fall), “ You used to be so good, my dear! ” I hate, I hate that shining tear! I’m going to be as good this year, As when I was so small. AND OTHER STORIES 41 “ The long way round is the shortest way home, I guess! ” said grandma, laughing. Mother had been worrying because the children were so long getting home from school every night. Sometimes it would be almost supper time before a boy or girl popped a head in, and yet the answer al¬ ways was that they “ came home the short way.” The long way was as much as a mile, and nobody expected them to go and come quickly by that one, but if they came across 42 BERTHA'S GARDEN through the pasture, it ought not to take anybody more than ten or fifteen minutes from the schoolhouse door. Mother couldn’t understand it. Ben looked up as grandmother said that about the long way and the short way. She said it very often. “I’ll find out what it means!” said Ben. “There’s a big patch of ice in that pasture by now — maybe that helps to pass the time away.” That afternoon, about the time for school to let out, he went down to the edge of the pasture and spent his time cutting some little twigs and mossy bits of bark till the boys and girls came along. Just as he thought, they made for that nice big spot of ice back of the barn and the hayricks. A grand slide clear across it was good to begin with, and then of course they had to have another, and then another and another. Ben waited till he had counted up to ten good ones, and then he all at once jumped out of the bushes and ran after them. AND OTHER STORIES 43 “This is the way you hurry home when your mother wants you, is it ? ” he called in his “big-brother” voice. “I thought I’d catch you ! I’ve been watching you the last half-hour, and I ’ll have a fine story to tell when I get home ! ” The children begged, but it was of no use. He liked the idea of his fine story. 44 BERTHA'S GARDEN “ Go ahead! ” said Katy, after a while. “ Nobody cares what you tell. I ’m going to tell it my own self,” she said, starting for the house. “ I’d rather.” “Would you, really?” asked Ben, sur¬ prised. “ I thought you’d hate to.” “Do!” said Katy, running to get ahead of him. “ But’t would be meaner not to. I never thought how mean ’twas, anyway.” That was just it — Katy had n’t thought, and, of course, the younger ones had done just as she did. Oh, how many bad things are done by “ not thinking” ! “ We stay and slide on the ice, coming home, mother ! ” burst out Katy bravely, dashing into the sitting-room, where father and mother sat talking. ‘ ‘ That’s what makes us late nights! ” AND OTHER STORIES 45 “You do!” said father. “You ought to be made to come home the long way after this, every night this winter! ” But mother said, “Why, dear child, I’d just as lief you would as not, if you’d only told me! You don’t need to do things on the sly to have a good time. You can go back now and stay till I ring the big dinner- bell.” 46 BERTHA'S GARDEN THE FIRE-SHINE At evening, in the red fire-shine, My grandpa calls me to his knee, And puts his face down close to mine, And asks me what I ’d like to see. Castles or crowned kings, or old, Bent, wrinkled fairies — all are there! I ’ve seen a splendid pot o’ gold, Big as the moon, and twice as fair! And there are wicked dwarfs that spite Good people all from morn to eve, And bears and other things that bite — I’m glad they ’re only make-believe. AND OTHER STORIES 47 But when I ask for stories, too, He says, “Ah, little lass o’ mine! You only dream the stories through To pictures in the red fire-shine.” 48 BERTHA'S GARDEN A LESSON BY HEART AY, Dan,.take me on?” Jamie asked it in such a pleading voice that you could hardly think of any boy as refusing, but Dan did. He was not a kind boy. Big, tall, strong, with the best sled in town and the best way of steer¬ ing and pushing it, I wonder what he thought he was made for! Some boys, with so many good things to be glad about, would have thought they were meant to go shares with some of them. But that was n’t Dan’s style. He thought his strength and health and so forth were all to enjoy himself with. “ Give the little fellow a chance,” said two or three at once, seeing Dan start selfishly off on the Rover, leaving his little crippled AND OTHER STORIES 49 brother looking after him. Poor Jamie would n’t have had many coasts down that splendid hill if it had depended on Dan, I’m afraid. The other boys were sorry, but they were having a good time, and, besides, some of them had their own brothers to look after. “Mother,” said Jack Everett, looking out of the window as he tried (or thought he tried) to study his Sunday-school lesson, “ let me off half an hour, won’t you, and I ’ll study twice as good when I come in. I want to do something out there — ought to be done — and right off this minute.” “Why, you only just came in, Jack,” said his mother. “And you said you wouldn’t go out again till you had that lesson. I don’t believe you know the 5o BERTHA'S GARDEN Golden Text, to say nothing about the rest of it.” “Well, I don’t,” confessed Jack, laughing. “ But I tell you I will, mother. I ’ll learn it all by heart when I come in. I want to eo first and Mve that little Jamie Stimson a ride on my new sled.” “The lame boy?” said mother, looking out. “ Well, you may! Give him two or three — good ones.” So out he went, a brave, handsome little figure. Mother nodded in a pleased way over her mending. “ I guess he will have that lesson by heart all the better for beginning with the practice end of it,” she said, looking out to see how happy Jamie looked tucked up on the sled in front of him. AND OTHER STORIES 51 HER LITTLE VERSE Little Ruth was only three years old, so of course she could n’t learn a very big verse for the Sunday-school concert. But who would have thought she could n’t say a nine-word- long one ? 52 BERTHA'S GARDEN “ Just nine words ! ” said mamma, drilling her. “One for each of your fingers, if you don’t count in the little one with the ring on ! ” • So every day Ruth would say over her verse, counting off the words on her fingers, just as you see her doing in the picture. And nobody thought she could make a mis¬ take or not say it! But they did n’t know what she would do the night before the concert. You wouldn’t think those sweet little lips could say bad words or those soft, pretty eyes flash fire. Every night at supper-time, after she had had her bowl of bread and milk, she would go to the rock- y ing-chair with mamma and have the pink-heeled and pink-toed stockings taken off, and the pink-toed and pink-heeled feet well kissed, and then with a little white flan¬ nel nightgown slipped over her head, she AND OTHER STORIES 53 went to bed, not screaming and kicking and fretting to stay longer — oh, no, indeed. I have heard of such children, but I never ex¬ pected to see one, till — Well, as I was saying, she used to go to bed so sweetly. “ To each and all a fair good-night, And wosy dweams and s’umbers light! ” That was her good-night to everybody. But this night there was company, and Ruth did n’t want to go to bed. She would n’t say good-night. She cried so loud that every¬ body wished to be a mile away if there was no stopping her. And she said cross, naughty words to mamma that it would make my heart ache to tell you, and I won’t. Of course she got all over it. A dear little girl could n’t stay cross and naughty. And then mamma had such a sweet talk with her about it, and told her to say a little prayer to God to be forgiven, because it was the only way to get her heart clean and fit for God to see. Perhaps you don’t see why that should have made any difference about the concert, 54 BERTH A'S GARDEN but it did. Somehow, when she got up to say her little verse she thought about that screaming time, and felt so ashamed that slu just hid behind the pillar, and the superintend ent had to say it himself. Think of it! Don’t you hope she will be more careful after this, and try harder to keep her little heart snow-white for Jesus ? AND OTHER STORIES 55 SING AND LING 56 BERTHA'S GARB EH TWO LITTLE TEXTS HE two little boys on the other page used to go 'to a Chinese Mission School. They were such cun- v ning little fellows ! One day their teacher said : “ Sing, I want you to learn a verse to say at the Sunday-school con¬ cert, and here is a good short one : ‘ Speak, Lord ; for thy servant heareth.’ ” “ Ling wants to say a verse, too ! ” said the good little older brother, who always tried to see that Ling did what he wanted to. The teacher smiled and said : “ Very well; only choose a good short one.” So at the Sun¬ day-school concert two funny little boys stood up, holding each other by the hand, and said, one after the other, the very same “ good, short verse ” : “ Speak, Lord ; for thy servant heareth.” AND OTHER STORIES 57 BABY'S RHYME What can a little girl Like me, Whose years have counted Only three, For Jesus really do ? My heart can love, My lips can sing, My little hands Can pennies bring; My feet can follow, too! " 1 * . NOV 15 1899 > * 9 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS □0DElElB5b3