S 3537 M677 |905 bpy 1 toms TiND Poptna BY NELLIE J. SMITH (AGE TWELVE) NELLIE J. SMITH AS E T W E LVE STORIES AND POEMS BY NELLIE J. SMITH (Age Tioelve) GAINESVILLE, GEORGIA NASHVILLE, TENN. ; DALLAS, TEX. PUBLISHING HOUSE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, SOUTH SMITH & LAMAR, AGENTS 1 90s "T'a^^^l LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two CoDics Received FEB 12 1906 n Cony right Enfry CLASS cV XX(;. No. (S^t 0^' ' COPY B. Copyright ^^ 1W5 By Nellie J. Smith (4 Sehtrattnn This booklet is aflFectionately dedicated to my parents and grandfather, G. G. Smith, and also my dear friend, Brother C.N. Crittenton. June ist, 1905. PREFACE, I WISH to thank my friends who have taken an in- terest in my story. Also papa and mamma for the corrections and suggestions made by them. Brother C. N. Crittenton, my good friend, was also very kind in writing the Introduction. Very truly, * The Author. INTBODUCTION, Who is there in the world that is not interested in children, and especially in little girls? I always think that there is something wrong with a person if he does not love little girls. My thoughts and words now, hov/ever, are about a little girl named Nellie Smith, whom four years since I met in Winter- ville, Ga., who is now twelve years old, and yet old enough to write a beautiful story, in which one char- acter is represented as "a noble, generous rich man." The story is moral and helpful. Surely the author of said story is a beautiful little character, and not only is a good writer of prose but also poetry, and I commend her and her writings to all. Very truly, Charles N. Crittenton. COJSTTJERTS. PAGE Mr, Riley and the Masons 11 Alfred's Search for the End of the Rainbow. ... 40 Bessie and Maria; or, The Two Orphans 43 Marjorie's Birthday 47 Rob's Resolution 50 POEMS. The Old Folks at Home 55 The Night the Snowfall Came 55 Santa Glaus 56 The Mother and Baby 57 Grandmother 57 The Forlorn Girl 58 Love for the Saviour 59 Calling 60 Springtime 60 ME. RILEY AND THE MASON'S. Mr. Riley was a very kind man, and was especially a friend to the poor and afflicted. In appearance he was tall, but not lank, and had dark hair and dark- brown eyes. His wife had a very sweet disposition and visited the sick as often as her health would permit. She was very devoted to her husband, who was also much devoted to her. They had only one child, a little girl named Dorothy May. She was a very frail child and had been sick a great deal during her life. Dorothy was seven years of age, but had never been to school on account of the condition of her health. She was a beautiful and lovable child, but she was a child not easily spoiled. Her father was a very wealthy man and a kind father, so little Dorothy had all her heart could wish for. She had a little doll house which was filled with furniture, of course small doll furniture. Then she had dolls from two inches to two feet high, and, of course, a great many china sets and a doll carriage for almost every doll, and everything in the shape of toys that a little girl could want. 12 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. One day her father took her for a walk. While taking their walk they decided to stroll through the woods. They had not gone a great way when they saw a slender figure in the distance. As they ap- proached the same they found it to be a poor, pale- faced, slender girl about fourteen years of age. Upon questioning her they found that her name was Lizzie Mason. She lived in Back Alley, and her mother was a poor widow who had eight chil- dren, the eldest being not more than sixteen years of age. She had been left a young widow, and had been obliged to work hard since her husband's death to support her children. She had, by her hard labor, ruined her health and was now confined to her bed for a large part of her time. They had nothing now to support them but what Johnnie, the eldest one of the children, made. His small wages hardly fed the widow's large family. Mr. Riley was much touched by the pathetic story the child had repeated, for as she told him tears ran down her pale cheeks. She said she was gathering some flowers for her mother, and she had selected some wild roses for her as she v/as especially fond of them. Mr. Riley asked her to join in their walk, but she replied: "I must go to my mother and carry the flowers before they get withered." Mr. Riley was sorry that she insisted on going, for MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 13 he wished to know more about her home, and the ones abiding therein; but seeing that she wished to return to her loved ones, he decided it was best to try no longer to deter her. "As you must go," replied he, "will you try to be at my residence to-morrow afternoon at three o'clock? and I may return with you to your home and pay your mother a short visit." "Yes, sir, I will be glad to come," responded the child; "but, please sir, tell me where your home is." "My home is at 67 Fifth Avenue. Almost any one can tell you where Mr. Riley lives." "Is you Mr. Riley?" questioned she. "Yes; and my little daughter is named Dorothy May." "Well, I must go," said Lizzie. "Very well," said Mr. Riley. "Be at my residence at the appointed time, and you will lose nothing." Lizzie gave Mr. Riley a bunch of the beautiful wild roses and also a bunch to the little girl, and they bade each other good-by. Mr. Riley told his little daughter it was time they were going home, and they started homeward. Little Dorothy talked a great deal about Lizzie. She spoke also about how kind it was to give them the sweet roses. She said she wanted to give her some of her dresses, hats, caps, bonnets, toys, etc., for herself and little sisters; so she selected from 14 . MK. RILEY AND THE MASONS. among her things some of the articles named, and her mother bundled them up and put them in a nice basket, ready for the to-morrow's visitor. The little girl came promptly at three o'clock, as she had promised. A servant met her at the door and invited her into the pleasant sitting room, where Mr. Riley and his family were sitting. "Good evening, little lady," said Mr. Riley, rising from his seat to welcome the little visitor. "Wife, this is our little friend, Lizzie Mason," said he. "Have a seat," said Mrs. Riley, drawing a chair near hers. Dorothy May also welcomed Lizzie. Then she removed the little girl's hat. Dorothy May drew her chair close to that of her mother and said in a low tone: "Please get the things, mamma, for Lizzie." When they gave Lizzie the basket of nice things, the poor child seemed as though she could not bear it, she was so rejoiced over the kindness they had shown her. Mr. and Mrs. Riley and their little daughter ac- knowledged to the fact that it was worth twice as much as the things to see the joy in the child's face. In a short while Mr. Riley ordered his carriage, which in a half hour was at the gate. Mr. and Mrs. Riley entered the carriage, and were soon driving away from their magnificent residence to Lizzie's MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 15 humble home. Every one in Back Alley was greatly surprised to see the fine conveyance stop in front of the Masons. Never had such a sight been seen before in Back Alley. The little party alighted from the vehicle and walked slowly into the house. Upon entering they found a pale, emaciated woman lying upon a cot. Everything in the room was very plain, but neat and clean. Mrs. Mason seemed very much pleased to see them. "Ma, Mr. Riley and his wife and little girl have come to see you." "I'm glad you all come," said Mrs. Mason. "Lizzie, go git some more cheers for 'em." Lizzie obeyed her mother's instructions, and returned bringing in some chairs for the visitors. "Lizzie hain't done narything but talk about you all since she seed you in the woods yestidy," said Mrs. Mason. "I am glad she likes us," answered Mr. Riley. "She hain't been treated by nobody as good as you all has treated her," continued Mrs. Mason. "I would like to do more," said Mr. Riley, "and in- tend to." ' "We's much obleeged to you all for your kindness to us, and would like to do somethin' to pay you for your help," said Mrs. Mason. 16 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. "No, no, no!" answered Mr. Riley, "we are only too willing to do something for your pleasure and com- fort." "Well, you sho' does please us and help us out a lot," responded Mrs. Mason. "How long has your health been broken?" ques- tioned Mrs. Riley. "Fur a year or more," answered Mrs. Mason. Mr. Riley replied that they had better go, so they bade Mrs. Mason and the little Masons good-by. The Rileys entered the carriage, and were soon at their fine residence. That evening the Rileys sat on the large veranda in the twilight and watched the moon rise and talked of their visit to the widow Mason's. After a while a little colored boy came and said that tea was ready. They ate supper and retired early. Lizzie came to visit Mr. Riley and his family often. It was Thursday afternoon when the Rileys paid their visit to the Masons, and the next Tuesday Lizzie came to Mr. Riley's home. "Mr. Riley," said Lizzie, "Johnnie is sick and can- not go to his work. The doctor says it is the fever, and he hain't got no hope of his gettin' well. The man we rent from come and said if we did not hand the money for the rent in by Friday, he was goin' to take our furniture." Tears stood in Lizzie's eyes MR. EILEY AND THE MASONS. 17 as she spoke of the man taking their simple furni- ture. "Here's a letter," said she. Mr. Riley took the note, which read thus: "Mr. Riley — ^We sho' is in trubble an' destres. The man we rent from sez he's goin' to take our furni- chure because we ain't abel to pay the rent. Johnny is sick and can't work. He is got ther feever. If you can lone me five dollers, I sho' will pay you back. I hate too ax this favor, but it seems i is obleeged to. "Your friend, Cora L. Mason. "P. S. — Excuse mistakes." Mrs. Riley saw tears rise in her husband's eyes as he read the note from the widow Mason. He took the note, folded it carefully, and laid it away in his fine trunk. He then sat down to his seventy-five- dollar desk and wrote the following note in reply: "Mrs. Cora L. Mason: Yours just received. In- closed you will find ten dollars to help you in your trouble. Hope you will get along all right. You need not repay it. "Very respectfully, F. S. Riley. "No. 67 Fifth Avenue, May 14." Mr. Riley put in the money, folded the note, and handed it to the sad-looking child. She returned home. Her mother was leaning against the door waiting for her. 3 18 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. "Has you got a note?" asked Mrs. Mason. "Yes'm," answered Lizzie. "It's on the purtiest paper, ma." "O, ain't it!" said Mrs. Mason. "Did Mr. Riley look like he liked my note?" "Yes, ma; he tuck it and put it in his fine trunk, and, ma, he folded it in the keerfulest way you ever seen anybody fold anything; and he cried when he read it too. You jes' oughter have seed him. "I'm so sorry he didn't like my note," answered Mrs. Mason, with tears running in streams down her cheeks. "W'y, ma, he liked your note. He mout er been feelin' sorry about your trouble, er he mout er been cryin' for joy. Ma, please don't cry so! Please! He didn't mean no harm; I know he didn't, ma." "Is ma cryin', Liz? Whut's ma cryin' about? Ma, please don't cry," said little Thomas. Mrs. Mason had not read the note Mr. Riley had written to her, or she would not have cried, unless for joy. Now that she was somewhat comforted, she unfolded the note and read it. When she had fin- ished, she had entirely changed her mind about Mr. Riley not liking her note. She thought him about the kindest man in all the world. She sent Lizzie to thank Mr. Riley, and to tell him she would try and pay him back the money any MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 19 way if she ever had it to spare. Lizzie returned in about one hour from Mr. Riley's home. Weeks passed and Johnnie grew no better, only worse, and the doctor had no hope of his living a week. On Tuesday at three o'clock p.m. Johnnie died a triumphant death, with his mother, Lizzie, and Mrs. Pitts, a neighbor, by his bedside. Before he died he prayed that his mother might be provided for. Lizzie carried the news to Mr. Riley, who sympa- thized with them very much. "Poor little Mary Ann has been cryin' most all day," said Lizzie. "I hope she will soon become comforted," replied Mrs. Riley. "Bring her over to see us sometime." "She ain't got nothin' fitten ter wear over here," said Lizzie, her cheeks flushing crimson. "I know she would be tickled to death if she could come. Good-by; I wish you all would come to the funeral. Hit's to be at Poverty Street Mission, by Brother Andrews, at half past three o'clock to-morrow evenin'." "I'll see if I can come, anyway," said Mr. Riley. "Lizzie," inquired Mrs. Riley, "have the children clothes fit to wear to the funeral?" Lizzie's face saddened as she replied, "No, ma'am," to Mrs. Riley. "Only tarry a few moments longer and they shall have some," said Mrs. Riley with a smile. 20 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. "O, you kind little woman!" exclaimed Lizzie. "How is your mother getting on?" asked Mr. Riley. "She's a-grievin' mightily about Johnnie," said Liz- zie. Just then Mrs. Riley came in with a large bundle in her hand. "Here are some things for the chil- dren," said she. "O, ain't they nice?" exclaimed Liazie. "I know ma and the children will be glad to get 'em." "I hope they will," said Mrs. Riley. "Had not Jack [a little colored boy] better take the bundle for her? It is real heavy for her to carry all the way." "I suppose so," answered Mr. Riley, ringing a small bell near by him. Jack appeared in a few moments. "What yer want, boss?" "Take this bundle for the young lady," said Mr. Riley. "All right, sah," Jack responded. Lizzie walked slowly homeward. She heard the city clock strike five. Could it be that she had been gone from home two hours? Yes, it was true. Just as she came in sight of the house her little five-year-old brother came running down the street exclaiming: "Sis! O, sissy! Whut made you stay so long? Ma has been looking for you a long time. A little darky brought a bundle here for ma. Ma said MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 21 she didn't think hit wus fer her, but she said she'd keep it till you come and maybe you'd know some- thin' 'bout it. An' O, sissy, come an' see what Miss Emma has brought to ma. Hit's so purty! She said she was goin' to bring me somethin' nice too, an' all of us. I wonder if mine will be a stick of candy? I know hit would taste good. Don't you, sissy?" "O yes, I knov/ all about the bundle," Lizzie re- plied; but before she could say more little Tom in- terrupted her by saying Miss Emma Morgan had planned a pleasant surprise for them. "O, what is it? Has she got me a good job?" Liz- zie inquired. "Of course not," replied Tom; "I don' call workin' nice." "Well, what is it?" asked his sister, with a look of wonderment, curiosity, and expectancy. "I won't or I can't tell," said Tom. "I told you it wus a s'prise — I believe that's what Miss Emma called it." By this time they had reached the gate, and all the children came running to meet Lizzie — Mary Ann, aged eight; Jane, five; George, twelve; Ed, ten; and Bobby, the baby, two years old. "Do you know anything 'bout my dress, Liz? Hain't it mine, Liz?" asked Mary Ann. ''I want to tell you something, Liz," said Jane; "we've a s'prise fer you." 22 ME. RILEY AND THE MASONS. "I'm going to work next week, if ma will let me," said George. "Somebody's been here — a nice somebody," said Ed. "Tisser, Ella Rooney turn to tee 'ou," said Bobby. "O, did she? I hope she hain't gone yit." "Yes, she's gone long ago," put in Jane. "Miss Emma wiis here, and she never come in cause she never knowed her," said Mary Ann. As soon as the children quieted down Lizzie en- tered the scantily furnished room where her mother sat weeping. A number of the neighbors were in the room, speaking words of comfort to Mrs. Mason. "Why, Lizzie, my child!" said Mrs. Mason, "why did you stay so long?" "0 nothing, only it is so pleasant to stay at Mr. Riley's. I know all about the bundle, ma. Mrs. Riley sent it to you and the children," "O, Mary Ann will be so glad, for she wanted a dress she saw in it! She wanted me to keep it, but I didn't, caze I never knowed whether hit wus ourn or not." Perhaps the reader would like to know something about the Rileys after Lizzie left. "Poor child," said Mrs. Riley with a sigh; "I don't know what the poor things will do." "Well, they shall not suffer as long as I have any money," said Mr. Riley. MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 23 "Mother," said little Dorothy, "may I not give Lizzie and her little sisters some more of my things?" "Yes, darling, we shall see what can be done. I have a nice black dress and your aunt has a black veil which she will give Mrs. Mason. I think the dress will fit her nicely, and you have many dresses I can give the children." "0, I'm so glad, mother!" "How about shoes and stockings?" asked Mr. Riley. "I don't know," answered his wife. "Well, here is the money to buy some shoes and some left over for any other things you think they might need." He placed a ten-dollar bill in her hand. "O, dear husband, that is so nice, and I am sure it will do them a great deal of good!" Mr. Riley only answered: "I hope it will." Mrs. Riley went to town that afternoon and bought shoes, hosiery, and Lizzie a dress and gloves. She went by Mrs. Brown's, the dressmaker, and had her make Lizzie's dress and fix over some other things for the children. She had the driver take her by her sister's (Mrs. Mackey), to get the veil she had prom- ised. Besides the veil, her sister sent provisions. She then went home. "Well, darling," said Mr. Riley, "you have come after so long a time." 24 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. "Yes," she replied; "I stayed rather long, but I have had a great deal to attend to." "O mother, you did stay so long!" said Dorothy May, coming into the room. "Yes, dear; I have just told your father I had had a great deal to attend to. I went by your Aunt Mamie's and got the veil." After Mrs. Riley had removed her hat and rested a few moments, she opened the bundle and showed Dorothy May and Mr. Riley the contents. They were much pleased with her selections. "When I was up town, I saw George," said Mrs. Riley. "He was trying to buy a coffin. He could not get one for the money he had, and was crying when I saw him. He told me all about it. I told him he needn't see about the burial things until in the morn- ing and I would help him out." "Poor child!" said Mr. Riley. He rang the little bell. Jack came, and he ordered him to have the buggy ready as soon as possible. Ten minutes later Jack and Mr. Riley were on their way to Back Alley. They were soon at the Widow Mason's home. "Good evening, Mrs. Mason, Miss Lizzie, and all," said Mr. Riley, removing his hat. "O, Mr. Riley!" exclaimed Mrs. Mason; "I am so glad to see you." "Thank you," he answered. MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 25 "You are welcome," replied the widow. Mr. Riley felt a little like smiling, but would not do so, having respect for Mrs. Mason's feelings. "Mrs. Mason," inquired Mr. Riley, "have you made any arrangements about Johnnie's funeral?" "No, sir," responded she, "we hain't got no coffin yit. I sent George to town this evenin', but he didn't have enough money to git one. Mr. Jones said he'd let me have a wagon. Lizzie went to town to the factory, but Mr. Hustler wouldn't let her have John- nie's wages cause he liked three days of finishing the month. I think hit's a plum shame, to think as hard as that poor child worked and then fer him to do that way." Mrs. Mason could say no more, for her sobs interfered. "O yes, it is sl shame!" said Mr. Riley, "and he should be punished very severely and made to pay besides. He is a very dishonest man, and I hope it will come home to him. A man who would do such a thing is a scoundrel, and I expect to see that Hus- tler pays you what he justly owes you." Mr. Riley looked very indignant as he spoke. "Are you going to get any carriages for yourself and the children?" asked Mr. Riley. "Me! W'y I hain't been in er carriage in five years," exclaimed Mrs. Mason. "Well, I will see to everything," said Mr. Riley. 26 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. "Thank you!" she said, but I hain't got the money. "Never mind about the money." "O, I do thank you so much!" she replied. Mr. Riley told Mrs. Mason that Mrs. Riley and Dorothy May would come to see her the next day. Mrs. Mason told Mr. Riley that Miss Emma Mor- gan, teaching a mission Sunday school and also a literary school, had called to see them and had prom- ised to get George a job, and was going to let Mary Ann, Ed, and Jane go to her school. Mr. Riley told Lizzie that he had a place for a type- writer girl and that he would give her the place if she understood it. "Lizzie hain't edicated enough to do no type- writin'!" said Mrs. Mason in astonishment. "Miss Emma might teach me," said Lizzie. "Well, we'll see," said Mr. Riley. "If you will come to my office every day at ten o'clock and remain an hour, I will make an earnest effort to teach you to typewrite." "O, I'd be pleased to come!" said Lizzie. "I had better go," said Mr. Riley, "so good-by." "Tell Miss Riley and Dorothy May to be sho' an' come, an' you come too," said Mrs. Mason. When Mr. Riley started out to go to the buggy, he saw there was no buggy, nor horse, and Jack too was missing. MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 27 "Reckon he's run away with the horse and buggy?" asked Mrs, Mason. "I hope not," Mr. Riley answered. "Well, I guess if you want to hire a buggy to go home in, one of the ehillin can go to town and hire one an' bring it down here to you." "I would be much obliged to you, Mrs. Mason, if you would have one of the children go for a horse and buggy." "George! O sonny! Go to the stable and git a horse and buggy for Mr. Riley." "All right, ma," answered George. In a short while George came with a horse and conveyance and drove him home. Mrs. Riley and her little daughter, of course, were anxious to know what had become of the horse and buggy and Jack. In several days the horse came home, but no buggy nor Jack. Mr. Riley could not imagine what had be- come of Jack. He saw Parmer Jenkins and he said a little colored boy had come to his house and asked for work on his farm, and that he had been in a runaway scrape, and that the horse had thrown him out of the buggy, and what had become of the horse and buggy he didn't know. He said he would go back to his employer, but he was afraid to go without the horse and buggy. 28 MR. KILEY AND THE MASONS. Jack came back to Mr. Riley's a week from the aay he disappeared. He explained the whole matter to Mr. Riley. "See here, boss, it was dis way," said he: "while I wus er holdin' ol' Daisy a little ol' boy come 'long and filed one ob dem ol' kites an' liked ter er skeered Daisy plum out of her wits, and you b'lieve it er not, she runned wid me fer er mile and er half wid jes' two wheels on de buggy; an' I sho' wus er yellin' and Daisy er runnin' as hard as she could go. At las' she throwed me clean out ob dat buggy, and de next ting I knowed I wus er layin' strutched out dar in de middle ob de road. I got up fum dar an' shuk myself and run fer all I was wuf to hunt dat boss, but I nebber foun her nor nufiin else but some splinters whut I tuk ter be de buggy. I seed er house an I went dar an axed fer work, an' I found dat Mr. Jenk- ins lib dar. I mout er come back yere, but I didn't want ter come widout dat boss." Mr. Riley burst into a roar of laughter at Jack's story, and went into the library where Mrs. Riley and Dorothy May were, and told them of Jack's return and the story he had told, and they all laughed heartily. Of course Jack was glad to learn the horse had returned. Jack stayed with Mr. Riley many years. Next morning after Mr. Riley's visit, his wife and MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 29 daughter were driven over to Mrs. Mason's and car- ried the things with them. Mrs. Mason was very appreciative of their generosity. Lizzie dressed the children and they looked very neat and clean. Mr. Riley went uptown and saw about the carriages, etc., then he went to Mrs. Mason's house. Mr. and Mrs. Riley and Dorothy May attended the funeral, also Miss Emma Morgan and many others of the neigh- bors. The funeral procession was a very nice one. Several of the neighbors spent the night with Mrs. Mason. Lizzie went to Mr. Riley's office, as she had prom- ised. She looked unusually neat and pretty. Mr. Riley was very glad to see her. "Well, my girl, have the children started to school?" he asked. "All except George and the baby. George ain't got no job yet, and ma ain't a tall well to-day." A young man v/as in Mr. Riley's office. He was of medium height, had hazel eyes and dark com- plexion. He was very handsome; at least, Lizzie thought him so, Mr. Riley introduced the young man as Mr. Charles William Douglas. Mr. Douglas was a very sober young man, free from all bad habits; and, in fact, besides being moral, he was a Christian and a member of the Church. Lizzie and Mr. Douglas chatted together with much freedom. He was an educated man, and Lizzie did 30 ME. RILEY AND THE MASONS. enjoy his conversation so much, although more than once he spoke a word of which she did not know the meaning. After Mr. Douglas left, Mr. Riley undertook to each Lizzie her first lesson in typewriting; but he found it necessary that she should know more of grammar, arithmetic, reading, and spelling, so he told her if she would go to school he would give her mother as much as her wages would amount to when she should have learned typewriting. She started to school, but most of the pupils laughed at the grammar she used, so much that at times she could hardly stand more, but she never complained one word at home or to Mr, Riley. Ola Higgins teased and annoyed Lizzie every chance she got. Poor Lizzie had many hardships to contend with. They called her poor tack, grandma, and many other names; but Lillian Huntington was a very sweet girl, and Lizzie thought a great deal of her. Lil- lian thought Lizzie a very nice girl, and thought none the less of her because of her grammar. They felt free to tell each other of all their troubles and hard- ships. Lizzie learned fast and soon left off her cracker dialect. She was such a lovable girl that she soon became a favorite among most of her schoolmates. Ola Higgins set her head that she wouldn't like MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 31 Lizzie, and she didn't; but Ola herself owned that Lizzie did "fairly well, considering everything," Lizzie soon learned to spell, read, write, and figure well and to speak nearly always correctly. She stopped school and Mr. Riley taught her typewriting and found her a very apt scholar. She soon learned typewriting, and Mr. Riley paid her a good salary. George got a job that paid him well, but Lizzie wanted him and the younger children to have an education, so George and the children who were old enough went to school. Mrs. Mason's health was not at all good, and the doctor advised a trip. He said it would do her good and divert her mind from her troubles, so in a few weeks she made a visit to her sister, Mrs. Morton, who lived at Iron Spring, a small place where there was a spring containing iron. The place was sit- uated about twenty-five miles north of Mrs. Mason's home. The day she Vv^as to leave Mr. Riley sent his buggy for her. She kissed each one of the children numbers of times. Bobby cried that night, and asked Lizzie dozens of times where his mother had gone, till she grew weary of answering. Lizzie pressed a kiss on his rosy cheek, sang lullabies, and rocked him until he was sound asleep, his little curly head resting on the shoulder of his lovable sister. 32 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. Sunday Lizzie took the children to Sunday school. She went by Ella Rooney's house. Ella's mother died when she was about nine years old, and Ella had kept house ever since. "O, Ella, come and go to Sunday school with us," said Lizzie. "Sunday school?" exclaimed Ella with a sneer. "Yes," answered Lizzie. "O do go, Ella!" "I look like goin'! Of course I hain't goin'," said Ella. "I guess you're goin' to show that there dress whut you got on, but I guess that rich man give it to you." Lizzie's feelings were hurt very much, but she said nothing and left. "Ain't sne so spitey, Liz?" said Jane. "Never mind, dear; don't talk that way," replied her sister. They reached the Sunday school. Mr. Hammond, the superintendent, saw them sitting in the church, and put Jane, Mary Ann, Ed, and George in the same class, and Lizzie in a class with some young ladies. Bobby went with her. Lizzie's teacher was Miss Marion Johnson, and the smaller children's teacher was Miss Alma Evans. The children were very much pleased with Sunday school and talked of nothing else hardly for a week. One day Mary Ann came running in. It was MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 33 Thanksgiving Day, and they had turkey and many other things, making a very nice dinner. Mamie Austin came in just about dinner time. "Don't ask Mamie to eat dinner with us. She'll eat so much they won't be no turkey hardly 'tall fer us," said Mary Ann. "Why, sister, do you speak so selfishly?" asked Lizzie. Lizzie asked Mamie to eat with them, and she readily accepted her invitation. Lizzie sliced her some turkey, and Mary Ann, being near her sister, gave her arm a punch, to remind her not to help Mamie's plate too liberally; bilt Lizzie pretended not to see her. Mamie passed her plate the third time for turkey, and thrice Lizzie received a punch from Mary Ann. Mrs. Mason soon returned home, and all were glad to see her. Lizzie did typewriting for Mr. Riley for years, and Mr. Douglas visited her as frequently as he was permitted. Lizzie liked his company very much. When Lizzie was eighteen years of age, Mr. Riley gave Mrs. Mason a comfortable and nice suburban home. She was filled with ecstasy at the idea of having a home of her own. Mr. Riley never forgot the Masons on Thanksgiving Day or Christmas, and Miss Emma was very kind to them always. 5i;^'; 3 34 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. Several months after the Masons had moved to their new home Mrs. Mason received a letter from Col. Elliot, of Jackson, Miss., which read thus: ' ' Mrs. Cora L. Mason. ''Dear Madam: The late Mr. Charles M. Monroe, of this city, has remembered you in his will, and has deposited five thousand dollars in the Mississippi Ex- change Bank of this place. "Inclosed you will find a check for the amount, which you may get cashed any time you wish. "Yours truly, J. B. Elliot," Mrs. Mason read the letter and exclaimed: "Praise the Lord! Johnny's prayer is answered at last." For a while Mrs. Mason could hardly believe the money was hers. She only had a faint recollection of the uncle whom Col. Elliot mentioned. "Now, children," said she, "I've got a secret to tell you, but you hain't got ter tell nohody 'bout it." Before she could tell them what it was, they all asked at once, "Whut is it, ma?" in high expectation. "Well, gim me time ter tell you," said their mother, laughing. "Go erhead, ma," said Thomas, who was growing restless and impatient. "I'm sure I ain't goin' to tell nobody." "Your Uncle Charles Monroe has willed your ma MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 35 five thousand dollars, but, min' you, don't tell a sin- gle person, fer they mout git it out that your ma wus rich." "Well, I think you is rich," answered Jane. "Five thousand dollars is a lot of money, ma." "Well, I's thankful for it, Jane, but you mustn't think I'm rich, caze I'm not." Mrs. Mason loaned the money for two years to Mr. Riley, at eight per cent interest, and in the meantime her children kept the secret well. George and the children who were going to school learned fast, and when they grew to be young men and ladies were sent to college. Lizzie had quit typewriting, and now stayed at home to help her mother about the housework, etc. She was now twenty-five years old. Mrs. Mason wanted Mr. Riley to take some money for the home he had given her, but he refused to ac- cept it. Lizzie was very popular now, and so were her brothers and sisters. Bobby was still the baby, but far from being a baby. He and Thomas were looking forward to Christmas with much pleasure. All the children would then be at home. Mr. Douglas had been invited to share their Christmas dinner, and also Mr. Riley and his family and Mr. and Mrs. Mor- ton were coming. Mrs. Mason was busy preparing 36 MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. for the occasion. It was hard to find a bit of dust or dirt throughout the entire house. All who were invited were present. The dinner was served in due time. There was a large turkey with cranberries, celery, cakes, pies, custards, etc. Then after dinner they had fruits and nuts in great variety. Three days after Christmas was Dorothy May's eighteenth birthday. On December 27 Bobby was sent to the post office, and returned with an envelope with a one-cent stamp on it. Lizzie ran to meet him. "Is it for me, baby?" asked she. Bobby did not answer at first, because he did not like to be called baby. I ain't no baby," said he in- dignantly. "Well, what did you answer for?" Lizzie replied, laughing. "Is it for me?" "I s'pose it's for us all, sister." Bobby handed the letter to Mrs. Mason. "I can't imagine who hit's from," said she. "Hurry, mother, and see," said Lizzie. She opened it and read: "Mr. and Mrs. Riley re- quest your presence at the marriage of Dorothy May to Henry B. Madison at high noon, December 28." "Well, I declare!" exclaimed Mrs. Mason in aston- MR. KILEY AND THE MASONS. 37 ishment. "I thought Lizzie would er married afore Dorothy May." Lizzie blushed and tried to smile. "Why, mother," she said, "why did you think that?" "Gaze I had reason to," said Mrs. Mason, "fer Mr. Douglas has come to be most like one of the family." Lizzie and George were the only members of the family who attended the wedding. Bobby and Thomas were very anxious to go, but their mother objected. The day of the wedding was beautiful. The bride was dressed in cream silk and wore an exquisite white veil. She held in her hand a beautiful bouquet of white roses, which brought to her memory the days of her childhood, and especially the day when Lizzie had placed in her hand some pretty wild roses. The groom was a very handsome young man, and finely attired. The entire house was beautifully dec- orated. An elegant dinner was served. Many beau- tiful presents were given, cut glass, gold and silver- ware, and jewels. Mr. Riley's present to his daugh- ter was a check for one thousand dollars to be spent when they should commence housekeeping. Mr. and Mrs. Madison left next day for a bridal tour through Florida and Guba. In several weeks they returned and spent some time with Dorothy May's parents. 38 MR. KILEY AND THE MASONS. George, Ed, Mary Ann, and Jane after a time quit school and got good employment and received good salaries. George became a bookkeeper, Mary Ann a scbool-teaclier, Ed a stenographer, and Jane worked as a milliner for a while, then stayed at home with her mother. Thomas and Bobby graduated at a lead- ing educational institution. Bobby became a college professor and Thomas a preacher. Several years after Dorothy May's marriage, Mr. Douglas and Lizzie were married. Many attended the wedding. Mr. Madison was best man, and Mrs. Madison was matron of honor. Mr. and Mrs. Riley were also there. The bride was dressed in white trimmed in cream-colored lace and shirred. She held some orange blossoms in her white, kid-gloved hand. Adorning her head was a nice cream-colored veil. The handsome groom was elegantly dressed. They were a handsome couple. Many delightful refresh- ments were served. Mr. and Mrs. Riley gave them a costly gold-lined silver tea set. There were numer- ous other presents, including a handsome cut glass water set from Dorothy May. After the ceremony the groom placed a ten-dollar gold piece in the preacher's hand. They left next day at 1:30 p.m. for Daytona, Fla. When they returned home they boarded with Mrs. Mason for a year, then they bought a nice home not far from their mother. MR. RILEY AND THE MASONS. 39 All of Mrs. Mason's children married except Mary Ann and Ed. Mary Ann remained at home with her mother as long as the latter lived. Mrs. Mason's health much improved and she lived to be a very old lady. Mr. Riley lived also to quite an age, and he was a friend of Mrs. Mason as long as he lived. Among his kindnesses to Mrs. Mason he saw that Hustler paid her what he justly owed. Johnnie's prayer was answered, and Mrs. Mason was provided for always. Although she never changed her cracker dialect, she was thought none the less of on that ac- count, for she was a very worthy Christian woman. Lizzie is a lovely Christian character; and as in her girlhood she placed roses in the hands of Mr. Riley and Dorothy May, so even now she scatters roses along the paths of those who need them most. "Honor and fame from no condition rise; Act well your part, there all the honor lies." ALFRED'S SEARCH FOR THE END OF THE RAINBOW, Alfeed was crying bitterly, for his mother would not allow him to go and stay awhile with Henry Sailor, his little friend. He had just reached the barn and lain down on the hay and was sobbing loudly when he heard some one open the barn door, and in a few moments he found himself in the arms of "Uncle Ben," a faithful old colored man who had been with Alfred's father ever since Alfred could re- member. "Whut's dis po' child cry in' 'bout, honey?" asked the old man. "O, Uncle Ben, I wanter go to see Henry!" an- swered the child, sobbing. "Let's sot down here an' let Unkel Ben tell yer er story 'bout de rainbow and de bag ob gol' at de en' ov it." Henry was delighted, and his sobs immediately ceased. "Uncle Ben" began his story, and this is what he told: "Well, honey, dey useter tell Unkel Ben w'en he wuz a leetle boy dat ef he'd go ter de en' ob de rain- bow he'd fin' er bag ob gol', an' O how Unkel Ben alfeed's search. 41 useter wish an' wish lie could go dar! But Unkel Ben's an ol' man an'll soon be dead, I spec', an' 'e hain't never foun' de en' ob de rainbow yit." Alfred had been listening intently to "Uncle Ben's" story, and had been looking up into his large black eyes. "O, Uncle Ben! reckon I could find it?" asked Alfred, as if he was thinking of taking a search for it. "I don' reckon yer cou'd," answered the old man, laughing. One morning, awhile after Uncle Ben had told Alfred about the rainbow, Alfred saw one, and de- cided he would try and find the end of it and get the bag of gold. He slipped out of the back door and started in search of the end of the rainbow. After he had walked about two miles he noticed that it seemed as if he was quite as far from the rainbow as when he first left home. "0!" thought Alfred, "if I were only at home in my own little chair or bed I wouldn't care if I never did see any gold any more. About this time a hunter came along near where Alfred was. "O, mister, will you tell me where the end of the rainbow is?" asked Alfred. "The best thing for you is to go home," said the man in a gruff manner. Alfred began to cry. In the meanwhile Alfred's mother and the family and neighbors were hunting in vain for the lost 42 ALFRED S SEARCH. Alfred. But they all went in opposite directions from that of Alfred. Soon after Alfred began to cry an old colored man on a horse came along and, seeing the child, stopped immediately. "Po chile; whut is you doin' here?" he asked. "O, I'm on my way to find the end of the rainbow. Uncle Ben says I'll find a bag of gold if I get there. Can you tell me where it is?" "What am your name, and where does you live?" he asked. "My name's Alfred Stone," said the child, "and I live on Pine Street, in Waltersville." "Come on, and I'll take you home on dis boss," said the man. He helped the boy upon the horse, and he was soon in his home on his mother's knee, while she caressed him. "O, my sweet baby boy," said Alfred's mother, "why did you do so?" "O, mamma, I wanted to get a bag of gold so I could buy you an' papa something nice an' help the poor," replied Alfred. Uncle Ben laughed, and Mr. Stone (Alfred's father) gave the man that brought Alfred home five dollars. Alfred never forgot his search for the rainbow as long as he lived, and he never cared to search for it any more. BESSIE AKB MARIA; OB, THE TWO OBPIIAJSrS. Poor little Bessie's and Maria's mother had been dead only a few days. Their father had been dead many years. One of the neighbors was keeping them, but Bessie had heard her say that she could not keep them many more days. The children saw a finely dressed lady come to the house many times. One morning the lady came, and Bessie and Maria were called into the room where she was. It was Mrs. Harvard. She was President of the Home Missionary Society. "Good morning, little ladies," said she, when the children entered the room. "If you like, I shall come for you this afternoon and carry you to the Orphans' Home. There you shall be very well cared for, and I hope you shall be very much pleased. Do you think you would like to go?" The children looked at one another. Maria was the older, so she said, "Yes, ma'am, I should;" then Bessie said, "I would too." Bessie was nine years old and Maria was eleven years old. When they left the room Bessie remarked that Mrs. Harvard's eyes were beautiful. "O yes," said Maria, "they are like our mother's used to be." Tears 44 BESSIE AND MARIA. ran down the children's faces. "We never had any- thing much to cry for when our mother lived," said Bessie. "Our poor mother is happier than we now," said her sister. The children decided to begin to pack their things. "Here's our Bibles that our dear mother gave us last Christmas, Maria," said Bessie. The children looked at them and wept bitterly. The lady came in the afternoon and carried them to the Orphans' Home. The matron, Miss Sherwood, came out and welcomed the little girls. She tried to make them comfortable and satisfied, and they were as much so as they could be without their mother. After they had been in the Orphans' Home about a year a lady took them. She was Mrs. Rich. The children hated to leave Miss Sherwood; and had they known how Mrs. Rich was going to treat them, I suppose it would have almost broken their little hearts. After they arrived all of the servants were turned off and the two little children were forced to do the work of two half-grown servants, and were often punished most severely and unmerci- fully for mere trifles. Mrs. Rich told her neighbors that she guessed those little chaps thought they would eat, sleep, and play lady, but she would soon show them what they were to do and not to do. The neighbors all agreed with her but Mrs. Eastman. She disagreed with her very much, and reproved her. BESSIE AND MARIA. 45 One day Bessie came to Maria crying lil^e her heart would break. "0, Maria, I've did something dread- ful!" "What is it?" asked Maria. "O, I broke one of Mrs. Rich's fine glasses!" Maria looked very troubled. "I hope she won't be angry with you," said she. "Come, let's tell her about it." "O, I can't!" said Bessie, "I c-a-n't!" She was cry- ing bitterly. The little girls went into the room v/here Mrs. Rich was. "O, Mrs. Rich, please don't be angry; Bessie has broke one of your glasses. Please don't punish her. O please don't!" Maria could say no more for her sobs. Poor little Bessie felt as if her heart was going to jump out. "Shut up your mouth, both of you; and Bessie Green, you come into this room with me," said Mrs, Rich. She beat the poor child most unmercifully. Bessie was screaming terrifically, and Mrs. Eastman, hearing the child's screams, sent her son, Mac, to see what was the matter. Mrs. Rich knew what it was he wanted, so she, being mortified, told Maria to go to the door, and told her to tell him that Bessie had fallen. Maria would not tell a story. "O, our mother never let us tell stories when she lived," said Maria. Mrs. Rich then started on Maria; and no one answer- 46 BESSIE AND MAEIA. ing the door, Mac went home. His mother then went and knew at once, when she heard the children screaming, what was the matter. That evening the children took their Bibles, went off to themselves, and prayed that they might be taken from there. The next day Mrs. Eastman reported Mrs. Rich to the Orphans' Home, and Miss Sherwood herself came for them. In about six weeks the children were given to Mrs. Markham, a young widow, and a very sweet lady. She said she wanted two sweet little girls to keep her company Mrs. Markham was very kind to the little girls, and they did not have much work to do. She let them study at home. She said she had been acquainted with their mother. She took them to their mother's grave and they placed beautiful flow- ers upon it. Mrs. Markham kissed them and tucked them in the nice little bed she had bought for them. "You treat us good, like our dear mother used "to," they would say most every night, and the devoted sisters would go to bed with their arms about each other's necks, and dream the sweetest of dreams. Mrs. Rich was fined $3,000 for abusing the little orphans. MABJOEIE' S Bin THDA Y. Marjorie's mother was in the kitchen giving out orders to Aunt Mandy, the cook, for Marjorie's birthday dinner. It was her birthday, and her mother was going to have some little girls come and dine with her. A boy came up the steps and rang the door bell hurriedly. Mrs. Summers, Marjorie's mother, went to the door. The boy handed her an envelope containing a telegram which said that Marjorie's grandmother was very sick, and requested Mrs. Summers to come as soon as possible. She did not finish giving out the orders for dinner. "Well, little daughter, your grandmother is very sick, so I will have to go to her soon," said Mrs. Summers. "Aunt Mandy will fix your birthday dinner, but, on account of my absence, you will have to be content not to invite the little girls." Poor little Marjorie could not speak, for she felt as if there v/as a large lump in her throat. But her mother told her that her Aunt Ruth was coming to stay with her. This helped her bear her mother's absence a little better. "When dinner time came Marjorie did not have any appetite for any of the nice things which v/ere on the table. There were cakes, pies, custards, chicken, 48 makjorie's birthday. turkey, oysters, and many other things, but Marjorie did not eat much, she was so disappointed. It was cloudy and raining. After dinner she sat by the window listening to the rain beating against the window. Her Aunt Ruth had not come. "Suppose she does not come," thought Marjorie, "what shall I do?" Then tears began to roll down her rosy little cheeks. She was in such deep study, and was crying so that she did not hear the door bell ring. It was her Aunt Ruth. "Did you think auntie wasn't com- ing, dear?" asked her aunt, as she came into the room where little Marjorie sat weeping by the win- dow. Her aunt took her in her arms and kissed her over and over again. Marjorie was soon sound asleep in her dear auntie's arms. Then her aunt laid her on a nice bed, and Marjorie did not awaken until about three o'clock in the afternoon. "0, Aunt Ruth, the sun is shining, isn't it?" she said. "Yes," said her aunt; "would you not like to go for a walk?" "0, let's go to the hospital," said Marjorie. "Well, but would you not like to take the poor little suffering and afflicted children something to make them happy?" "O yes," said she; and she filled a large basket with things. They saw so many poor little children. When 49 Marjorie gave them the things she brought, they seemed so glad that it pleased her to see them. She visited the hospital often. She realized that it was far "more blessed to give than to receive." That night Aunt Ruth told Marjorie many beautiful Bible stories. Then her aunt read from the Bible and prayed a very beautiful prayer. Little Marjorie prayed for her grandmother's healing. The doctors had no hope of her recovery, but she took a change for the better and was soon quite well and enjoyed better health than for a number of years. And Marjorie's prayer was answered. When her mamma came home she told her she never had a nicer birth- day. Marjorie lived to be an old lady, but never had a more pleasant one, and she never forgot it as long as she lived. 4 B OB ' 8 BES OL UTION. Rob Makvin was the only child of Mr. and Mrs. Marvin, and he was spoiled. Rob was disobedient, stubborn, and self-willed. When he could not have his way, he would whine and pout and say he wished he was at grandma's house. In the summer he was carried to grandma's home in the country. Grandma had early supper and told Rob it was time little boys were in bed. He said that his mamma didn't send him to bed till they went. "Yes, Rob," said grandma, "perhaps they don't, but you must mind me now." He insisted on sitting up, and pouted. Grandma thought perhaps he might become homesick if she insisted on him going to bed, for he was only eight Shears of age, so she let him sit up longer to-night. Rob sat up so late that he overslept himself next morning. "Well, little man, you are a late bird this morn- ing," said grandma. "Your grandpa and I have eaten breakfast, but you may come nov/ and eat some- thing." "I don't want any breakfast," said Rob, pouting. "All right," said grandma, "you may come and go into the sitting room, or you may go and see me roe's resolution. 51 feed the chickens." Before grandma fed the chick- ens she put away the food on the table. Rob saw a nice little plate and a small knife, fork, and spoon. He was sure that grandma had fixed all this for him. There was nice fried chicken, boiled eggs, milk, bis- cuit, butter, gravy, and hominy. how his little rosy mouth did water as he saw grandma put away the nice food which he would have eaten had he not been stubborn. But he thought grandma would beg him to eat, and after she had begged awhile he would accept; but she did not beg, and now hov/ hungry poor little Rob was! "Well, son, grandma hopes you will be in a better humor at dinner. Come, let's feed the chickens." Rob thought he never saw so many chickens in all his life. He was so hungry by the time dinner was ready that he ate so much that he became nauseated and had indigestion, O so bad. Grandma worked hard with him and grandpa went for the doctor. Rob got so tired of taking medicine. He made up his mind he would never be stubborn or self-willed again, or disobedient. He told his grandma all about his resolution, and you may be sure she was very glad to know about it. Rob kept his word, and always did what grandma told him to do. He learned to milk the cow and feed the chickens, water the horse, and do many other things to help his 52 rob's resolution. grandparents, and they called him their "little helper." Rob liked this very much. He spent his ninth birthday at grandpa and grandma's. Grandpa gave him a nice little colt, and grandma gave him a little heifer calf. When Rob went home his mamma and papa thought he was almost like a new boy. He told them all about what disobedience and stubbornness had caused. His mother and father and schoolmates and everybody that knew him were very proud of him. His grandparents shipped his colt and calf to him, and his parents thought them very nice pres- ents. Rob never broke his resolution. He went to his grandparents' home nearly every year, and looked forward to the time with great pleasure. POEMS. THE OLD FOLKS A T HOME. Before the hearth they sat, Before the old homemade mat, Grandpa and grandma, old and gray; The old home was going to decay. The furniture too had quite served its days. And through the broken panes the sunshine spread its rays. Happy were they who occupied The seats which were made of oxen hide. THE NIGHT THE SNOWFALL CA3IE. A SNOWFALL came one dreary night, And with its silence deep and white It blinded everybody's sight — The night the snowfall came. It covered little Mary's tomb, Where fairest roses used to bloom. And over us it cast a gloom — The night the snowfall came. 56 POEMS. We gazed upon the little grave, Where fragrant flowers used to wave, And many a sigh and tear we gave — The night the snowfall came. But we will meet our little one In our home beyond the sun, When our work on earth is done, Where the snow shall never fall. SAN^7\1 CLAUS, Santa Claus is a nice old fellow; He brings up apples nice and mellov,-, And oranges so pretty and svv^eet That look most too good to eat. He brings to little girls and boys The very nicest kind of toys; And if you are very good, He'll bring you nice ones made of wood. He brought Bess a doll — she named it Dot- And a stove, a skillet, and little pot; And to Fred a rubber ball And a train, but 'twas very small. POEMS. 57 THE MOTHER AND BABY, While baby lay peacefully sleeping Some one softly to the cradle crept, Softly tipped to the cradle where baby slept; 'Twas mother — she at baby was peeping. She stood for a moment watching baby's hands. She thought them the sweetest in any lands; And then she watched the closed eyes, When lo! they opened in surprise. GRAND MO THER. Grandmother sat in her old armchair. Which was drawn in the corner near the fire; Her face showed no sign of the least despair. And the children of her stories did never tire. She spoke of the times long, long ago, From her childhood days to the present age. And sometimes tears would begin to flow; Her history would have filled many a page. 5 58 POEMS. She would comfort the children when their hearts were sad, And they would always come to grandmother. For she always tried to make them glad; And they loved her better than any other. THE FORLORN GIRL. Before the fire she sat forlorn and drear, Feeling sad and forsaken, poor dear! Thinking no one cared for her soul. Then I repeated the story of old. Down her pale cheek there trickled a tear. And what I said she was glad to hear. And as I saw her rise from her seat, A smile and a tear seemed quickly to meet. Her face was beautiful and bright. And her heart was now very light. She said she had welcomed the Saviour in; Her heart was free from the stain of sin. POEMS. 59 LOVE FOR THE 8 A VI UR. I LOVE the blessed Saviour, He's all the world to me; And now my heart is yearning The more like him to be. I love the blessed Saviour, He did so much for me. tell me, tender Shepherd! What shall I do for thee? 1 love my blessed Saviour Who suffered on the cross. sinner, won't you trust him? Thy sin is only dross. 1 love the blessed Saviour, I love the Saviour's name; He's just the same forever. Yes, always just the same. Chorus. Each day, dear Lord, I love thee more and more; I love thee better, Lord, than e'er I have before. Of blessings thou dost give us a full store; O how I love my Saviour! 60 POEMS. CALLING, The Saviour is seeking some lost sheep to-day, He's seeking the lambs who've gone from the fold. Wandered away! wandered away! To perish from the cold, O, sinner, have you strayed from the Saviour's love Into the darksome paths of sin? O why do you wish into these paths to rove When the Saviour is waiting to welcome you in? He is calling, calling you to-day. O come to the Saviour, do not delay! If you will only to the Saviour come. By and by you'll find a happy home. SPRINGTIME. The sweetest season of the year is springtime; It is almost wholly one season of rhyme. The little birds begin to come in. And to kill them must be a great sin. The pretty green leaves begin to put out, And how pleasant 'tis then to walk about! The flowers soon begin to bloom. And give to earth their sweet perfume. mimSL?!: CONGRESS 0^018 360 129 5 h