TWO FESTIVALS BY MRS. FOLLEN With Illustrations by Billings and others CONTENTS MAY MORNING AND NEW YEAR'S EVE. THE BIRTHDAY. A TRUE STORY. MAY MORNING AND NEW YEAR'S EVE. It is the evening before the first of May, and the boys are lookingforward to a May-day festival with the children in the neighborhood. Mrs. Chilton read aloud these beautiful lines of Milton:-- Now the bright morning star, Day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and loads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail beauteous May that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire; Woods and groves arc of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and with thee long. "How beautiful!" said Frank and Harry. "Suppose, Mother, " saidHarry, "it should rain, and hail, and snow to-morrow, for it lookslike it now, and then you know we cannot go into the woods andgather flowers; and all our plans will be spoiled. " "Why, then, mydear, we must enjoy May morning as the great poet did, after he losthis sight, with our mind's eye; and you must bear yourdisappointment patiently. " "Easier said than done, Mother, " saidHarry. "Why, only think of all our preparations, and the beautifulwreath you made for Lizzy Evans, who is to be queen of the May, andhow pretty she would look in it, and then think of the dinner in thewoods, we all sitting round in a circle, and she and the king of theMay in the midst of us, and Ned Brown playing on his flageolet; andthen you know we are all to walk home in procession, and have adance at his mother's after tea. " "You will not lose your dance, Harry, " said his mother, "if it should hail, and rain, and snow;but, on the contrary, enjoy it all the more, for then you will riotbe fatigued by a long walk; and Lizzy can wear the wreath at anyrate. " "I don't care for the fatigue, Mother; I want to be in thewoods and gather the flowers with my own hands, and smell them as Igather them in the fresh air, and hear the birds sing; and to screamas loud as I please, and kick up my heels, and not hear any one say, 'Don't make such a noise, Harry. ' I guess Milton did not take asmuch pleasure in writing poetry about the spring after he becameblind. But please read his May Song again, Mother. " She read itagain. "I think he must have felt as glad when he wrote it, " said Harry, "as I hope to feel tomorrow. --'Comes dancing from the east'--howbeautiful it is! What a pity he ever lost his sight!" "Milton, " saidthe mother, "made such a good use of his eyes while he could see, that he laid up stores of beautiful images, which he remembered whenhe could no longer use his bodily eyes. The poetry he wrote when hewas blind shows the most accurate observation of the outwardappearances of things, of shades of color, and of all those beautieswhich only sight could have taught him. It is worth while, boys, foryou to imitate him in this, while you admire his poetry. " May morning came. It did not hail, or rain, or snow. The sun shonebrightly. The birds seemed to know as well as the children that itwas the first of May. The country village in which Mrs. Chiltonlived was as noisy as a martin box, at break of day, when doubtless, though we poor wingless bipeds don't understand what the birds arechattering about, they are planning their work and their amusementsfor the day--and why not? Soon after sunrise, all the children from far and near, dressed intheir holiday clothes, with little baskets of provisions, allassembled on a little green before Mrs. Grey's house, and were readyto set out for the woods, about two miles distant. Ned Brown had hisflageolet, and another boy had a drum. Lizzy Evans received thewreath which made her queen of the May, and Frank, being the tallestboy, was chosen king. And now off they all set, in high glee, happyas only children can be. Mrs. Chilton, and the teacher of the village school had promised thechildren to join them at the dinner hour, which was twelve. Justabout eleven, the clouds began to gather. Nevertheless, the ladieskept their promise, and set out for the wood. The threatened showercame up, and they took refuge in an old empty barn, where they hadnot been many minutes before all the children, one after the other, came dripping in, some laughing, some small ones crying. Soon, however, the laughers prevailed; and, after showing their flowers, of which they had collected many, they set themselves to work tospread out the dinner, in the most attractive way possible, and makewhat amends they could for the unlucky chance of the rain. An oldmilk stool was appropriated to the queen. It had not even theaccustomed number of three legs to support it, so that the poorqueen had to endure the anxiety of a tottering throne, and learnedexperimentally some of the pains of royalty. The king tookpossession of an old barrel that had lost both ends, and sittingastride upon it, Bacchus fashion he took his place by the side ofthe poor queen on her two-legged stool, upon which she wasexercising all the art of balancing that she had acquired in onequarter at dancing school, hoping against hope that she might keepher dignity from rolling on the barn floor. Just as his May-majestywas fairly seated on the barrel, it, all at once, fell in, smash, and he was half covered with old hoops and slaves. Whereupon thequeen laughed so immoderately as to lose her balance, and thus bothrolled in the dust. In the mean time, the other children, who had nodignity to support, had spread their little repast on an old sledge. Mrs. Chilton, who had brought a table-cloth, assisted them. Dinnerwas now announced. The queen declared she could support her throneno longer, and she and the king, both forgetting their royalty, satdown with the others on the hay-strewn floor, and discussed apples, cake, &c. , &c. Unfortunately the rain lasted longer than the dinner; every scrapthat was eatable of their provisions was consumed; and now thechildren all looked around with that peculiar, beseeching, half-discontented look, which is their wont to have on such occasions, as much as to say, "What shall we do next?" Grown people who have beenmuch with children, know full well that there is no peace when suchsymptoms appear, under such circumstances, unless, before the kingof misrule begins his reign, something is proposed of a composingtendency for turbulent spirits. Accordingly, Mrs. Chilton asked thechildren if they had ever heard of the Mayday ball which is givenevery year to the children in Washington. "No, " was the answer. Shesaid she had been at one, and she would tell all about it. "It is held in a large public hall, decorated for the purpose. Allthe children in Washington and Georgetown are invited to attend; allhave an equal right to go, ignorant and educated, poor and rich; nomatter how poor, if the girls can get a neat white frock, and theboys a decent dress, they are all admitted; every one wears a wreathof flowers, or has a bouquet in his hand or bosom. The childrenassemble very early, and dance as much as they please, to the musicof a fine band, and all partake of some simple refreshment, providedfor them, before they return home. They number often over athousand, and as they are all moving together to the music, theylook like a dancing flower garden. I said all the children, rich andpoor, in Washington. I wish it were so; but there are many poorchildren who are never invited to this festival. No one dresses oneof them in a nice white frock on May morning, and puts a wreath offlowers on her head, and a nosegay in her hands, and says to her, 'Go, dance, sing, and rejoice with the other children in God'sbeautiful world. '" "Why not?" asked the listening children. "They are slaves--they are negroes!" replied Mrs. Chilton. "It is a shame; it is wicked, " cried Frank and Harry, and all therest. "When you are men and women, " said Mrs. Chilton, "you may do muchfor the poor slaves. Remember them then, and do not forget them now. All can do something for them, even little children. Now I will tell you a story that was related to me by a gentlemenwho knew it to be true. I knew, he said, a little boy, who was oneof the best little fellows that ever lived. He was gentle and kindto his companions, obedient to his parents, good to all. His homewas in a small country village, but he was very fond of wanderinginto the neighboring fields, when his tasks were all over. There, ifhe saw a young bird that had fallen to the ground before it couldfly, he would pick it up gently, and put it back in its nest. I haveoften seen him step aside, lest he should tread on an anthill, andthus destroy the industrious little creatures' habitation. If achild smaller than he was carrying a heavy bundle or basket, Harrywould always offer to help him. Was any one hurt, or unhappy, Harrywas quick to give aid and sympathy; ever ready to defend the weak, feared not the strong. For every harsh word, Harry gave a kind onein return. I have known him to carry more than half his breakfast toa little lame boy whose mother was very poor. Harry was brave andtrue; he would confess his own faults, he would hide those ofothers. He had a thirst for knowledge. He got all his lessons wellat school, and he stood high in his class. But what he wasparticularly remarkable for, was his love of all beautiful things, and most especially of wild flowers. He would make wreaths of themand give them to his mother, and he was very fond of putting one onmy study table, when he could contrive to place it there without myseeing him. Harry knew all the green nooks where the houstonia wasto be found in the early spring, and it was he that ever brought methe beautiful gentian that opens its fringed petals in the middle ofthe chilly October day. On Sunday, and on all holidays, Harry alwayshad a flower or a bit of green in the button-hole of his jacket. Every sunny window in his mother's house had an old teapot or brokenpitcher in it, containing one of Harry's plants whose brightblossoms hid defects and infirmities. He also loved musicpassionately; he whistled so sweetly that it was a delight to hearhim. Yet there was something in his notes that always went to yourheart and made you sad, they were so mournful. Often in the summer time, he would go, towards evening, into thefields and lie down in the long grass; and there he would lookstraight up into the clear deep blue sky, and whistle such plaintivetunes, that, beautiful as they were, it made your heart ache to hearthem. You could not see him, and it seemed as if you were listeningto the song of a spirit. Alas! Harry was not happy; God's glorious world was all around him;his soul was tuned to the harmony of heaven, and yet his young heartached; and tears--bitter, scalding tears--often ran down his smooth, round cheek, and then he would run and hide his head in his mother'slap, that blessed home for a troubled spirit. One day, I discovered the cause of Harry's melancholy. I wasreturning from a walk, and saw him at a little brook that ran behindmy house, washing his face and hands vehemently, and rubbing themvery hard. I then remembered that I had often seen him there doingthe same thing. "It seems to me, Harry, " I said, "that your face andhands are clean now; why do you rub your face so violently?" "I amtrying, " he said, "to wash away this color. I can never be happytill I get rid of this color. If I wash me a great deal, will it notcome off at last! The boys will not play with me; they do not loveme because I am of this color; they are all white. Why, if God isgood, did he not make me white?" And he wept bitterly. "Poor dearlittle boy!" I said, and took him in my arms and pressed him to myheart! "God is good; it is man that is cruel. " The little fellow wassoothed and strengthened by my sympathy, and the counsel I gave him. Not long after this, it was May-day, and all the children of thevillage went out into the fields to gather flowers, to dressthemselves for a little dance they were to have in the evening. Every boy and girl in the village, except Harry, was of the party. They set off early in the morning, and they ran gayly over hills andmeadows, and hunted busily for flowers; but the spring had beencold, and they could not find many. They were returning home, wearied, and rather chilled and disheartened, when they saw Harrycoming out of the woods with a large bunch of flowers in his hand. One of the boys called out to him, "Well, nigger, where did you getall your flowers?" Harry went on and made no answer. "Come, stop, darky, " said the hard-hearted boy, "stop, and let's have yourflowers; here's three cents for them. " "I don't wish to sell them, "said Harry; "they are all for my mother. " "A nigger carry flowers tohis mother! that's a good one! Come, boys, let's take them from him;they are as much our flowers as his; he has gathered more than hisshare;" and he approached Harry to seize his flowers. "For shame, Tom, for shame!" cried out many of the children, and oneof the larger boys came forward and stood by Harry. "Touch him ifyou dare, Tom. You have got to knock me down first. " The cruel boy, who was, of course, a coward, fell back, and some of the littlechildren gathered around Harry to look at the flowers. "Don't mindthat naughty boy, Harry, " said one little girl, and slid her littlehand into his. Harry's anger was always conquered by one word ofkindness. "Where did you get all your flowers?" asked the children. "I will show you, " replied Harry, "if you will follow me. " They allshouted, "Let's go, let's go; show us the way, Harry;" and off theyset. Harry ran like a quail through bush and brier, and over rocksand stone walls, till he came to a hill covered with a wood. "On theother side of this hill, " said he, "we shall find them. " In a veryfew minutes the children were all there. There they saw a warm, sunny hollow; through it ran a little brook, and all around weremassive rocks and pretty nooks; and there were the birds singingloudly, and there were cowslips, and anemones, and houstonias, andviolets, and all in great profusion. The boy who had insulted Harryhung back ashamed. Harry quietly said to him, "Here, under thislittle tree, is a beautiful bed of violets, and there are anemones. "Harry tasted of the pleasure of doing good for evil. The boy who haddefended him walked by him, and talked kindly to him. "How good itwas in you to show us the flowers!" said the little girl who hadtaken Harry's hand, and whose apron he had filled with flowers. Howhappy now was poor Harry! All the children gathered that morning as many flowers as theydesired. Some carried home only perishable earthly flowers in theirhands; others, immortal flowers in their hearts. The villagechildren went to their dance, and were very happy. Harry spent therest of the day and the evening in his mother's cottage, alone withher, and amused himself with making wreaths of his flowers. But hesaid he had never passed so happy a May-day. A loving heart, likeUna's beauty, 'can make a sunshine in a shady place. '" The clouds had now passed away. One of the boys proposed to pass avote of thanks to the old barn, for the hospitable shelter it hadafforded during the shower. This was received and passed withacclamations. Frank and Lizzy, or rather the king and queen of theMay, declared that they had no thanks to offer to the old barrel orthe milk stool. It was too wet to go into the woods again; so theyformed a procession, and with their flowers in their hands, andsuch music as they had, returned gayly home. The children all enjoyed the dance in the evening; but there weresome hearts there, young and merry as they were, that made a solemnvow never to forget those of whom they had heard that day, --"themthat are in bonds. " It is New Year's eve. Frank and Harry are sitting with their motherby the pleasant fireside. The boys were full of chat, but theirmother was looking fixedly into the fire, and had been silent for along time. She was thinking of the past; they, of what was to come. "Mother, " said Harry, "will you tell me tonight what my new year'sgift will be?" "Don't speak to mother now, " said Frank. "Why not? "O, because mother looks as if she did not want to talk. " "But mother told me that, if I would be silent till she had donereading, I might talk as much as I pleased to her. " "So I did, Harry, " said his mother; "and now I am ready to hear you. What did you ask me?" "Only, Mother, whether you meant I should know what my new year'sgift is, before tomorrow morning. " "No, dear; I think you had better have it all new and fresh to-morrow;the surprise is a part of the pleasure of a new year's gift. " "What can it be? I know what I hope it is. " "What do you hope it will be, Harry?" "I do hope it will be a magic lantern, " said Harry, without amoment's hesitation. His mother made no answer. "What do you wish for?" asked Harry. "I don't know, " said Frank; "there are so many things I wish for, that I hardly know what to say first. " "I wish, " said their mother, "that I could grant all your wishes;that I could give you every good thing you desire; but my means, asyou know, are limited. I am sorry, dear, that you have so manywishes ungratified. " "O Mother, it is not for such things as you can give that I mostwish for. You are very kind to me, and give me more good things thanyou ought to give me; you are too generous to me. I wish for what noone can give me. " "We all have many such wishes, my dear child; but we must not thinkeven these quite unattainable. There are few things that areasonable being earnestly desires, that some day or other may notbecome his. " "Do you think so, Mother?" "Yes, Frank; perhaps he may not attain them in this life, but Ithink the very desire is a prophecy, and even promise, that we shallat some stage of our being possess what we wish. " "I know what I shall wish, then, " said Harry, "and keep wishing itas long as I live till I get it, though I am afraid I shall neverhave it. I'll tell you what my wish is, Frank, if you will tell meyours. " "Agreed, Harry, " said Frank; "and you shall tell your wish first, and I last. " "I wish, " said Harry, "that I had a flying horse that was perfectlygentle, and would go all over the world with me, and do just as Itold him to, and never be tired; but I guess I never shall get one. Come, Frank, what do you wish?" "I wish that I had a great deal of strength and courage, more thanany one else, and was never afraid of any thing, and that I could dowhatever was to be done, and become, at last, a great man, and dosome good in the world. I don't want to sit still in a corner halfof my life, and never use my faculties. Now, Mother, Harry and Ihave told our wishes; will you tell yours?" "First, " said the mother, "let me show you how near you may, even inthis life, come to your wishes, and then I will tell mine. Harrywill not continue to wish for a flying horse, because he will knowhe can never have it in this world; but his wish will change into adesire of travelling and seeing all that is beautiful and wonderfulin God's glorious world, and then he will find his flying horse in arail carriage or steamboat. And you, my dear Frank, if you continueto wish to be strong and brave, and truly great, will have, perhaps, more than you ask for; for, if you do not have a strong body, youwill have a brave spirit, and you will be what is better than astrong man--a good, great man. True greatness does not depend uponphysical strength; for instance, a brave and noble woman may begreater than a man. " "How is that, Mother?" "Because, from the weakness of her body she has more obstacles toovercome. Her power arises from an inward strength that lasts long, and shines most brightly in the darkest hour of trial. Mere bodilystrength, without this power of soul, is often cowardly and useless. I will tell you a true story that I heard the other day, which willshow you what I mean. Somewhere in the State of Maine there is abeautiful little lake, on the banks of which are a number of farmsand pleasant dwelling houses. There are boats on the lake, and thepeople are in the habit of allowing the children to learn early themanagement of a boat; girls and boys together are allowed to go outon the lake, without any man to take charge of them. One day, alittle party went out. They had been rowing about for some time, andgathering pond lilies, and waking up all the echoes in thesurrounding woods with loud shouts, merry laughs, and happy songs. The children were in the middle of the lake, and were thinking ofreturning, when, by some accident, one of the boys fell overboard. Aboy of fourteen years of age had the management of the boat; he wasthe principal oarsman. He was strong and active, and could swim, buthe feared for his own life, and he immediately began to row for theshore to get help. In the mean time, the poor boy, who could notswim to the shore, and whose strength would be unequal to keep abovewater till they returned with help, would have been drowned. Therewere other boys in the boat, but it was a little girl, of ten yearsof age, who, immediately forgetting her weakness, became theirleader and guide. She insisted that the boat should be turned backagain, that the poor boy should not be left. I know not if sheseized the oar, but if she did not, she prevailed with others toturn the boat round and come back again to the poor boy, who, seeinghimself left by his companions, was giving himself up for lost. Assoon as they came up to him again, the brave little girl asked theboy of fourteen years to keep the boat as steady as he could. Thenshe reached over the side of the boat, and told her companions tohold her fast by the legs. Soon she was able to reach the drowningboy. He was much bigger than she. She told him to put his arms roundher neck. She then put her arms under his, and pulled him safelyinto the boat. This girl was a small, delicate child. Now, dear Frank, who was thestrong and brave one, the girl or the boy? Which would you ratherbe?" "Of course, the girl, Mother. What a brave little soul she was!" "So you see, Frank, that what is most truly desirable in your wishis within your reach, even now. " "She was a first rate girl, " said Harry, "and the boy was a realcoward for going away and leaving the poor fellow in the lake;" andhe breathed a long breath, as if he had himself just come out of thewater. "Now, boys, to match that story of the little girl, I will tell youone of a sailor boy who was even braver and nobler than she. As aschooner was sailing near Montauk Point, Long Island, she wassuddenly struck by a heavy gust of wind, upset, and instantly sunk. A vessel near by, which had seen the calamity, sent its boat to savefrom sinking any that had not gone to the bottom. On coming nearwhere the schooner went down, they saw a little boy, twelve yearsold, floating on some wood, and went to take him off. As theyapproached him, he cried out, 'Never mind me; save the captain; hehas a wife and six children. Both, however, were saved. Can we makeany better resolution, my dear boys, " said Mrs. Chilton, "to beginthe New Year with, than that we will try to be as brave andself-forgetting as the little girl and boy I have been telling youabout? And now, good night. " "Good night, old year, for the last time, " said Harry; and they weresoon asleep. On New Year's morning, Harry found a large bag hanging to his bedpost, containing a magic lantern; and Frank saw on his bureau acomplete set of Miss Edgeworth's Works. Again it is New Year's eve. Another year has passed happily over thehome of Mrs. Chilton and her boys. "To-morrow, dear Mother, is New Year's day, " said Frank; "may wenot, as we are one year older, sit up till the clock strikes twelve, and wish you a happy new year before we go to bed?" "Yes, boys, if you can keep awake, you may sit up. Tell me, Frank, do you think you have gained as much this year as you ought to havegained? Ere long you will be a man. " "I think I have gained something, " replied Frank. "I am at the headof my class in school. I am three inches taller, I am stronger, andI know a great deal more than I did last year. " "Is that all you have gained? Have you cured any of your faults? Canyou command your temper any better? Are you any more disinterested?Are you more careful about the truth--in short, are you a betterboy?" "I cannot say, Mother; you know about that better than I. " "You expect a New Year's gift to-morrow, I presume, Frank. " "Yes, Mother, you always give us a New Year's gift, you know. Willyou let us sit up till the clock strikes twelve to-night?" Their mother promised that they should, and added, "I have beenthinking of a New Year's gift for you, Frank, that I am not quitesure you will like. I will tell you what it is, and if you do notlike it, you will say so honestly, I trust. " "What is it, Mother?" "You know the little room I call my closet. It has a window in it, and contains some shelves with books on them. I propose to give youthat closet, with all the books I shall leave in it, for your own. In it are a desk and a chair. From the window, you look directly, you know, upon the pine grove. In this little room, you may studyand write and read and think also, as much as you please. " Frank could scarcely hear his mother finish, for delight at thethought. "All my own? the books, the desk, the nice old-fashionedchair and the closet itself? Why, Mother, I never should havebelieved you would have given it to me for my own. There is nothingI should like so well in the world. Shall I have the Shakespeare, and the Johnson, and the Classical Dictionary, and the Sir CharlesGrandison, and all the old poets, and those French books in it, andthe Homer and the Virgil too?" "Yes, my son, I think I need not ask you to promise to lend them tome when I wish to borrow them. I have a great affection for thiscloset, Frank, and therefore I give it to you. If the walls couldspeak, they could tell you a great deal of your mother's history. " "I wish they could; I shall sit there a great deal, and I shouldlike to hear all they have to say. " "As I have promised you to let you sit up till the new year comesin, I will tell you something now of what they would say. You knowthat this is the house in which I was born, so that this closet knewme from a child. Many a time, when I was a little girl, has mymother shut me up in it for refusing to obey her. It was gentletreatment shutting me up in this closet; had it not been called apunishment, I never should have thought it one. In summer time, thewhispering of the wind through the pine trees rebuked my bad temper, and seemed to say, 'Hush, Alice! Peace! Be still. ' I always came outbetter than I went into it. When I was nine years old, my fathergave me this closet for my own use altogether. Many of the booksthat are in it now were in it then, and the same desk and chairstand there to this day. My father had just built on to his housethe addition which gave him the library which I now use; his lawbooks and papers, &c. , required better accommodation; and, from thattime, the closet became mine. He gave it to me, as I do to you, fora New Year's gift; and this is one reason why I love to give it toyou for the same purpose. It is a very dear and sacred spot to me, Frank, this closet, and I think you will like to hear something ofits history. " "Yes, indeed I shall, Mother, " said Frank. "When I first took possession of it, " continued his mother, "I feltmore grand, I fancy, than Queen Victoria did when she tookpossession of the throne of England, for she had anticipated herelevation, whereas I had never dreamed of mine. When I was a girl, children did not fare as they do now, and my father's liberality tome was an unusual thing. My father and mother both went up stairswith me on New Year's day, and led me into my little sanctum, whichthey had dressed with evergreens, and seated me in the three-corneredleather-bottomed chair, and told me that every thing in the closetwas mine. Although it was winter, still the pine trees that youknow come so near the window, and that now are old trees, lookedbeautiful, and to me it seemed a little paradise. 'Here, ' said mymother, 'you were many a time shut up by me in order to make you agood girl. Now you are old enough to know yourself when it is theright time for you to be shut up here, in order that you may growgood. I advise you, at such times, to come here and stay till youhave conquered the bad spirit, and can come out with a firmresolution to do better. I shall never put you in the closet again, but I shall trust, Alice, that you will put yourself in, at allproper times. ' I well remember putting my arms around my mother'sneck and kissing her for joy, but I said not a word. My heart wastoo full of love, and gratitude, and pleasure to speak. After myparents left me in the closet, in my own chair, now all my own, Isat still some minutes thinking what I should do with my greatpossession, how I should improve my great blessing. The thought ofmy mother's loving trust in me affected me very much. I resolved Iwould not disappoint her. I resolved that, whenever I found myselfdoing wrong, I would come to my closet, shut myself in, and praythere for strength to cure my faults. I then counted them all overas far as I knew them, and resolved to get rid of them all. I wastoo happy to think of the difficulty in the way of doing this, butmy self-confidence was soon rebuked. After looking over all thebooks, and putting my fingers upon every thing in my little kingdom, and dancing up and down with delight, I followed my father andmother down stairs to see the presents for the other children. Suchwas my state of exaltation that when my little sister came, full ofjoy, to me, with her new doll, I turned contemptuously away fromher, and sneered at it, and said, 'Who wants to look at a doll? MyNew Year's gift is the best; it is worth yours and the boys' all puttogether. ' Never shall I forget the grieved, disappointed look of mylittle sister as she said, 'Why, Alice, I thought you would be soglad to see my doll, '--and never shall I forget the silent rebuke ofmy mother's gentle eye, as she looked at me sadly. I felt it all. Icould not stand it. I ran up to my closet; I turned the key as Iclosed the door. I fell on my knees and poured forth to my Father inheaven the first TRUE prayer I ever remember to have uttered. Iprayed for forgiveness of my unkindness, I prayed for strength toconquer my many faults. That day I did not sin again. I played with Fanny's doll. I did allthat I could to make every one happy. I took the children up to mycloset, and tried to make them share in all my pleasures while Itried to enjoy theirs. I made amends for my fault. From that time, Ibegan a religious self-scrutiny and censorship. I watched myselfvery carefully, and for every fault I did penance in my closet. WhenI shut myself up on account of wrong doing, I would not allow myselfto read or do any thing but think of my fault. The words of mymother which had been uttered without much serious thought, were asa law to me. I became, if possible, too sensitive to my own defects;it made me rather egotistical. It seemed as if my heart had becomesuddenly changed. I was, as it were, born again; a new life began inme. One penance that I subjected myself to was to go and confess to mymother all my faults, even the most trifling. She feared that thiscontinual self-reference would make me, as it did, an egotist, andshe, one day, advised me to be satisfied with seeing my wrong doingsand acknowledging them to myself, and to try to correct them withoutspeaking of them to her. I begged her, with tears, to let me have myown way, for that telling her all helped me greatly; and I think, for a time, it did. The necessity of confiding all that is in ourhearts, and all we do that is wrong, to a being whom we entirelyrespect and love, and in whose purity we confide, is a great checkupon evil thoughts and evil deeds. One instance I well remember ofthe good effect of my confession. My mother insisted upon carefuland neat habits in all things. She would not allow us to throw downour caps or bonnets. They must all be hung up on pegs in the hall, and each child had a peg of his or her own. As we often forgot thecommand, our mother, in order to remind us, made a law, one winter, that whoever broke the rule should, when the apples were distributedin the evening, have none. One day, all of us came in to supper inhaste from play, and two out of four of us forgot to hang up theirhats--my sister was one, and I the other. The footman picked up myhat, and hung it up in the right place. At the time of distributingthe apples, my mother gave me a fine one, and said, "Alice neverforgets her hat. No one forgets now but Jeannie. She is verycareless, and must have no apple to-night. " I was mean enough totake my apple and be silent; but I could not eat it. Still thereseemed to be a spell over me; and, wretched as I was, I could notspeak and confess before my brothers and sisters how false andshabby I had been. I went to my closet; and there, after a while, Iresolved that, in the morning, I would tell the whole truth. I wentto bed, but I could not go to sleep. As soon as I heard my mothercoming to bed, I went to her bedside, confessed the truth to her, gave her my apple, and begged her to tell the children how mean Ihad been. My mother was as just as she was kind. "You must tell themyourself, " she said. "You must confess your fault to your youngestsister with your own lips, and be willing to appear before her whatyou are. You must not ask me to save you this disgrace. It is thatwhich will cure you. It is your just punishment. " I did as she bademe, and this was my last sin of that kind. I had another fault, and that was a great irritability of temper, and many and many an hour of solitude have I passed in that closet, looking out at the quiet pine trees, and listening to the softsighing of the winds through their branches, till my heart has beensoftened, and the spirit of love and gentleness has returned. Iremember one instance in particular of my conquest there of myfoolish anger. I was in the habit, in warm weather, of learning allmy lessons in my closet, particularly favorite pieces of poetry, which I wished to commit well to memory. There I recited them aloud. I found that the other children would often come and listen to me;this fretted me; I was very angry at it. I desired them not to doit, and not in an amiable manner; but they often forgot ordisregarded my request. I could not, or thought I could not, commandmy temper whenever I found this out. One day I had been recitingHamlet's soliloquy; and, just after I had repeated the last words, Iheard William say in a pompous manner, "Toby or not Toby. " I wasvery angry, foolish as it may seem to you, and burst open the doorso suddenly and violently that I threw down my little sister whostood against it; and, instead of taking her up, I told her I wasglad I had knocked her down; and then I was coward enough to strikemy little brother. The cries of both children brought up my mother. By this time, I had come to my senses. I told her the story just asit was, and I felt very much ashamed. My mother simply said to me, "I thought you were beginning to be areasonable being, and had ceased to be a passionate coward. You knowthat William is not so strong as you, or you would not dare tostrike him. " Her words seemed to me very harsh then, but now I thinkthey were just. All abuse of power, all cruelty to the weak, istruly cowardly and mean. That day I punished myself severely. Some friends were to dine withus, friends whom I loved particularly to see; one of them was JaneGrey, my earliest and dearest friend; but I would not go down todinner. When called, I sent a note to my mother, saying I should notcome down, and wanted no dinner, and begging her not to send againfor me, for it would be in vain. I heard the cheerful, merry voicesof the family at dinner. I heard the birds singing in the trees nearmy window. I breathed in the sweet fragrance of the roses and thenew hay. I saw the animals at a distance feeding quietly. The clear, deep-blue sky, as I gazed up at it from my window, looked so pure, so solemn, as if angels unseen might be hovering over the world. All, all but me was beautiful, and happy, and good. I was sinful, Iwas unhappy; I was, it seemed to me, a discord in the world. I hatedmyself for my bad temper, for it was some time before I had quiteconquered it. At last, however, I did, and became gentle and happyin my chosen solitude, while others were enjoying themselvestogether. In the middle of the afternoon, they all went out to walk. WhenJeannie came up for her bonnet, she ran to my closet, and called outto me, "Dear Alice! mother told me not to come to you at dinnertime; but we can't be happy without you. Jane says she can't playwithout you. Can't you come down? Do, Alice. " "No, " I replied. "Saynothing about me. I shall not see Jane to-day. " After Jeannie leftme, I could not quite keep the tears from my eyes. Pretty soon, mydear mother, who always thought people must suffer from hunger, cameto me and brought me a nice piece of pudding she had saved for me, and said kindly to me, "Come, Alice, you have punished yourselfenough; eat this pudding and come down stairs. You will not be sopassionate again. " I would not go down, but I ate the pudding. Whenour friends were all gone, I went down, and then I told Willie I wassorry for striking him. Whether it was that my partiality to Jane, which caused what I suffered that day to make a peculiarly deepimpression on my mind, I know not; but, from that time, I acquiredmore self-command; and never did I forget that day in my closet. I could tell you much more about my closet experiences, Frank, ofwhat I have enjoyed and what I have suffered in it. There I wentwhen my heart was too full of pain or pleasure to bear the eye ofanother. There have I prayed. There have I sent up thanksgivings. There have I wept bitter tears. A new page in its history willcommence to-morrow, Frank. I hope, also, a new and fair page in thehistory of your mind, that inner, private apartment, on which onlyyour own eye and the eye of Infinite Purity can rest. Begin to-morrowto write on that new page the history of conquered selfishness, oftruth and purity, of devotion to duty, of a higher love for others, of obedience to the will of God; then this will be a truly happyNew Year. As I have told you, Frank, beforehand, what your New Year's gift isto be, I will tell Harry, if he pleases, what I have got for him. " "Tell it now, Mother. It is so pleasant here by the fire. " "You are to have a nice new desk, with a key to it, all your own. " "O, that's prime, Mother, " said Harry; "and where shall I keep it?" "In my little writing room, if you like, Harry. " "Yes, Mother; and then I can talk a little now and then to you, Isuppose. " "Sometimes, Harry; and I doubt not that Frank will let you come, nowand then, to his closet. I don't want this closet to separate you;but, on the contrary, to be the means of making you better friends, because it will help Frank to be a better boy, and so always to setyou a good example. " "It is rather hard, Mother, for a boy to set a good example. I don'tthink I ever did such a thing in my life. " "Mother, " said Harry, "you told us that you had been translating alittle story from a French book, to read to us some evening. Weshall have time enough to-night, for you know you promised to let ussit up till the clock strikes twelve; so we can talk, and read, andtell stories too. There will be time enough for all, before Mr. OldYear goes out and Mr. New Year comes in. " Mrs. Chilton consented. Frank placed her little stand by her, withthe German lamp upon it, in the way she liked to have it, and sheread as follows:-- THE BIRTHDAY. Near the coast of Northumberland, at a little distance from theland, you can just see rising up a group of little islands, rocksscattered without order, that grow in number at low water; you maycount as many as twenty of them, whose sharp, menacing crests seemto defy the returning waves. Nothing can be more desolate than the appearance of the little FarneIslands; formed of rocks barely covered with a thin vegetation, surrounded by precipices, they seem accessible only to sea birds, who take refuge there in the tempests. The Island of Longstone is at the head of the group, and serves as asort of vanguard, and is, perhaps, the most dangerous of all. Agloomy collection of black rocks, full of crevices worn by theaction of the winds, the waters, and the tempests, it does notnourish a single plant; not an atom of soil adheres to its surface;it is naked and barren; its steep sides bristle with cockle shellswhich encrust the rock. The interior is still more desolate than the exterior; it is asuccession of black hillocks cut by narrow ravines into which thesea rushes, roaring and furious, at high tide, detaching from therocks fragments which it grinds, rounds into pebbles, and depositspell-mell with the mud and sea weed in some deep crevice, where itagain will come to seek them in the storm, roll them over once morein its foam, and drag them off to its profound caverns. While our feet were wounded by the rocks, above our heads hundredsof sea birds hovered screaming, and among them we discovered thesea-gull by its shrill and harsh scream. Notwithstanding these horrors, this island is not a desert. At thesummit of the rock, there rises a round tower where every evening alight is kindled, so contrived as, at intervals of some seconds, tothrow a brilliant light upon the points where the fretted waves rageand boil round a hidden rock, and to light the dangerous channelwhich separates the island from its sister isles, and to warn thepilot to avoid by every means the perilous labyrinth. The keeper of the lighthouse did not live alone in this wild place;his wife followed him there; his family increased, and the cradlehas rocked again and again. Grace Darling, the eldest of the seven children, has just reachedher twenty-second year, and all the family are rejoicing at thefestival, for every anniversary is religiously kept by the littlecompany that animates the solitude of Longstone. Every one is gone out to seek something by which he may take hispart in the festivity, and prepare a surprise for the well-belovedsister. The mother remains at home kneading a nice cake to gratifythe appetite of the little marauders. "Mother, Mother!" cried John, who returned the first; "see what asuperb lobster the rising sea has brought up and left in the creviceof a rock, which I call my fish-trap. Might not one say that the seaknew that it was Grace's feast day?" "I have only some shrimps, " said William; "but they are very fineones, I hope. I took them, with a net at the end of the littlecreek. " "Imprudent boy!" said their mother; "your father has told you ahundred times not to venture to fish on that side of the island; therock is too steep, and the water is more than a hundred fathomsdeep. " "Yes, but, in a turning, there is a little platform which I haveshown to my father, and he has consented to my going there at lowwater. Then I know the rock, and the sea knows me; neither of themwish to hurt me. You have more reason for scolding Jenny; she is notafraid of any thing; she climbs like a cat all along the crevices tocollect sea weed, which she burns in order to enrich the hole whichshe calls her garden, and to cultivate--what? nothing that one caneat--some good-for-nothing flowers, which grow only in consequenceof shelter and great care. " "And you count it for nothing to be able to present to Grace a roselike that?" said Jenny, who just then came in bringing a rose of adull white, surrounded by vigorous leaves of a dark green. "What apleasure to have been able to keep it till now, even here, and tosee it blossom so exactly at the right time. I do not regret thepains I have taken with it, I assure you. " "And you are right, " replied her mother; "for Grace will know wellhow to appreciate the pains you must have taken to give her such apleasure; and I, too, approve of the forethought you havediscovered, which will make you one day a good housewife. Let yourbrothers fish and hunt; let it be your care to plant and ornamentour solitude with your little smiling, blooming nook of earth. " "But where is Grace?" asked John; "why is she not assisting you asusual, Mother?" "Because I refused to let her do so. She knows well that this daywill be her festival, and I have sent her up stairs to her father, whilst we are here together preparing for her. " "James and the two little ones are missing, " said William. "Only James, " replied his mother. "The two little ones are withGrace, who is giving them a lesson in reading. I do not see whyJames stays away so long; it is nightfall, and his father has alwaysdesired him to take care not to be overtaken by a fog far from thehouse. " "Suppose I go after him, " said William. "There he comes, there he comes!" cried John and Jenny. The boy came in, in truth, all out of breath. "I have just succeeded, " said he, "in making up the dozen. " As hesaid this, he put upon the table a dozen of wild eggs. "The lastcame near costing me very dear, " said he; "it was laid half way downto the Black Man's; you know, William, the great rock which lookslike a giant sitting down; I had climbed, on my knees, and I hadonly one more step to take, when a great big wave--a coward!--behindstruck me, and would have carried me away if I had not clung withall my might to the great Black Man. " "Foolish child, " said the mother, "could you not foresee the returnof the tide?" "Not at all, not at all. It came before the hour. There are enormouswaves in the channel, and the sea growls as when it is going to beangry. " "That will not prevent us from passing a merry evening, " repliedWilliam; "come, let us go quickly to work. " He hastened to set the table, and assist his sister in putting onthe plates, while his mother broke the eggs, beat up the omelet, anddrew out the cake from the oven. All was ready, and William rang the bell to call the father andGrace to supper, who usually remained in the upper part of the towerof the lighthouse. Grace loved to contemplate the indented coast of Northumberland, andto see with her naked eyes, of a clear day, the little hamlet whereshe was born; it was not that she regretted the fertile soil, theverdure, the wood she had seen when she was little. No! the Isle ofLongstone, did it not contain in its rocky bosom what was dearest toGrace? Her sympathy extended, however, far beyond. She trembled withjoy when she distinguished on board of a passing vessel boys andgirls, young people and women. She waved her handkerchief to them, sent to them affectionate words which the wind blew away, but whicheased her full heart. She had another more intimate tie to herfellow-beings, and to her native land, and this was the reading somegood books, that inexhaustible source of elevated thought andprofitable example. When she at last appeared in the low hall where they waited for her, there was a general hurrah; the question was, who should first gethis arms round her neck, who should embrace her, and who shouldcongratulate her on her birthday. She showed herself as muchsurprised, as much delighted, as the young providers of the festivalcould desire. She praised the beauty of the lobster, the size of theshrimps, the wild taste of the omelet; but the rose touched her themost tenderly, and Jenny clapped her hands as she said, -- "I was very sure that you would love my poor little flower, whichWilliam despised because it was not good to eat. " "He is a little gourmand, " said Grace, laughing, "whom I condemn forhis punishment to eat my part of the cake. " "To the health of Grace, " said the father. "We have just opened forher one of the bottles of old Bourdeaux, which the brave Frenchcaptain gave us, who came near perishing down below at the end ofthe great reef of rocks, sixteen years ago. " "And whom you saved at the risk of your life, " added his wife. "I remember it all, " said Grace, with a very serious look; "I wasvery small, yet I well remember that terrible night. I hear now thehowling of the waves as they broke against the rocks, and made thelighthouse tremble. " "It was just such a night as this, " said the father; "a Friday, thesixth of September. The sun set, just as it set to-night, in a cloudred as blood, which is never a sign of any thing good. " "It is a sign of a great wind, " said James; "so much the better; thewild birds will come to the island for shelter. " "A great storm, " said John, "always brings fish into my trap;besides, I love the storm. " "Let us play hit-hand, " said Jenny. "Come, James, you begin; putyour head in my lap, and hold your hand out. There! tell me whostruck. " "That is not difficult; it was you. " "O! you looked!" "No. Now it is your turn. " After this game came blind man's buff. The eldest sister gaveherself up to all their wishes. She let them bandage her eyes, andsought fearfully the little fugitives; but notwithstanding herefforts, and the efforts of all to be amused, a cloud hung over thelittle assembly. Without, a thick fog enveloped the island, andveiled the friendly light. "If I am not greatly deceived, this will be a very bad night, " saidthe father. "There is, fortunately, no vessel in sight, if it isnot, perhaps, the Hull packet, which will have had time, I think, toreach the Bay of Berwick, and which will have the discretion, Itrust, to remain there; for the heavens speak in a loud voice thisevening; the wind comes from below, and the waves run before it likea flock of frightened sheep. " "I should like to see a flock of sheep, " said the little girl offive, whom Grace held in her lap, and whom she was getting to sleep. "Hush! did I not hear something?" said the mother. "It is the wind that sings us to sleep in the tower, " said thelittle child. Grace, who was just going up stairs, stopped and listened. "I onlyhear the sea which strikes and rages against the rocks, " said she. "Let it beat as it will, it will not wake me, " said John. "I am tooweary. " Good nights were exchanged, and they all betook themselves to bed;and, in a quarter of an hour after, every one slept, rocked by thestorm which roared around the tower, beat against the lighthouse, shook its thick glass, and sought in vain to reach the flame. Thetempest increased from hour to hour. It rose in mountainous waves, and broke against the rocks with a tremendous noise. These sounds were heard in Grace's dreams; she thought she saw menand women struggling with the waves; they called her to theirrescue; she held out her hand, and felt herself drawn into the gulfwith them. Presently she heard a cry. She sat up in her bed; the daybegan to dawn; it might be four o'clock in the morning. The windbrought to her ear a cry shriller than the first. This time she wasnot mistaken; it was a human voice. Her whole heart was agitated. Quickly as possible she climbed to thesteps that led to the outer platform of the lighthouse. Her fatherwas there before her. Clinging to the balustrade, he looked allaround; but his eyes were unable to see through the fog and therain; he saw nothing. "Grace, " said he, "you have good eyes; see if you can discover anything. " The young girl took the spy glass, but the fog obscured the glasses. She calmly wiped them, and looked again. "I perceive the top of a mast, " said she. "Where is it?" "At the head of the long reef. O God, if the fog would only lift. "And the young girl raised an earnest prayer to Heaven. "Why, Father, " she called suddenly, "I see something move. There aremany of them; they are waiting for us; let us go. " "You do not think, my child, " said her father; "stay here; I will goalone. " "Alone to meet those frightful waves, and no one to guide the helm?That would be to go to a certain death. I am stronger than you. Think of no such thing, Father. I shall go with you, and we willsave them. " Her father looked in her face, and his eyes filled with tears. "So be it, " he said; "we will die together. " "We will live, and we will save them. Let us to the work. " She hurried on her father. In the twinkling of an eye, the boat, moored in a creek, was unfastened, and launched upon the boilingwaves, when a voice cried from the shore, -- "And will you leave me behind? I have a right to run the same riskswith you; I wish to take my part. " The mother threw herself into thebark, which rose for a moment on the menacing crest of an enormouswave, then disappeared, swallowed up in the furrow left between twomountains of water. In the mean while, the fog lifted, and a group of shipwrecked peoplewere seen clinging to the sharp points of a ledge of rocks uponwhich beat the hull of a ship, split in two. "They come nearer, " cried one of them. "O, that terrible wave hascarried them farther off. " "Let us thank God for that, " said the captain; "it might have dashedthem against the reef. " "They will arrive too late, " said a poor mother who pressed to herheart an infant already stiff and motionless with cold. "They are making superhuman efforts, " said the captain. "Courage, brave hearts!" And he raised a white handkerchief. The mother uttered a loud cry. She had just discovered that thechild that she was trying to warm was dead. At this moment, the bark made a desperate effort to land; but afurious wave carried it off for a third time. It whirled round andround, as if taken into one of those bottomless gulfs which thecurrents form around the rocks, and disappeared. The group of shipwrecked sufferers, six men and five women, fellupon their knees at this awful moment. Suddenly they perceived theboat nearer to them than ever. It had rounded the reef, and gained aquieter sea. It was coming along the edge of the rock, which on thatside sunk precipitately into the sea. "Bless me, " said the captain, "they are women. " "Angels come down from heaven to save us, " cried a sailor. Grace had already seized hold of the poor mother. She had gentlytaken the dead baby out of her arms, under the pretence of carryingit for her. She led her over the rough parts of the rock into theboat. There was not a minute to lose; the tide was rising; a delay of afew moments might render a return impossible. The heroic young girlinsisted only that she would remain on the reef till the skiff, which could only take half of the company, returned for theremainder. God rewarded her faith and courage. All those who had been wreckedon the frightful reefs of Longstone were saved, and brought insafety into the small dwelling of the lighthouse. The remains of the feast, the old wine opened in honor of Grace, helped to reanimate the poor shipwrecked sufferers who owed theirlives to the young girl. "Never was a birthday, " as the good mother often said, "so full ofterrible and joyful emotions; never was one more blessed. " "That is a right good story, Mother, " said Harry. "Was Grace Darlinga real person?" "Yes, " said his mother, "and many more beautiful stories are told ofher, and all true. She was a noble creature. " "One more story, dear Mother, " said the boys. "We have a good dealof time, yet. " "Many years ago, " said the mother, "I was making a visit in a familywhere what I am going to relate to you took place. I wrote it alldown, and I will now read it to you from my manuscript book. " A TRUE STORY. One cold, stormy evening in the middle of winter, a family, consisting of four children and their parents, were gathered round abright, blazing fire. One merry-looking little girl was sitting witha large, beautiful cat in her lap, which she was stroking, whileMiss Puss was purring her satisfaction at her happy lot. An oldergirl was assisting her mother, who was employed at some needlework. The oldest boy was getting his lesson. The youngest was sitting onhis father's knee. "How the wind roars!" said little Robert, as atremendous blast came swelling and moaning over the fields andrushed against their dwelling, which, saving one old elm tree thatbent its protecting branches over it, stood all alone, exposed tothe shock of the wind against it. "Shan't we blow over, Father?"said the child. "No, dear; we have stood higher winds than this. ""Now it dies away, " said Helen, as, for a moment, she stoppedcaressing her favorite. "The storm is taking breath, " said Ned; "nowyou can hear it a great way off; it sounds like a troop of horsegalloping up--now it comes nearer and nearer. Hurrah! there it comesagain! hurrah! Hear the poor old elm creak and groan, and hear theicicles rattling down. I hope none of the branches will break, but Iam afraid the ice is too heavy for them. " "Think of poor old Fannyto-night, " said Julia, the elder girl, "in her little cottage, andthe walls so thin. Mother, what will she do?" "Her house is so smallthat the wind seems to pass her by, " said the mother, "and, when itis so cold as it is to-night, the poor soul goes to bed, and liesthere till it is warmer. Many a time, I have found her in bed in themorning, and given her some breakfast, and advised her to lie theretill she could get up with comfort. " "It is so still now, " saidRobert, "that I can hear the flakes of snow on the window panes. ""And so do I, " said little Helen, "and the wind seems to say, Hush!hush!" "I should not think you could hear any thing while Puss ispurring so loud in your ears, " replied Ned. "Do put her out of theroom; I would rather hear the loudest wind that ever blew than heara cat purr, purr, purr so forever; it makes my head spin to hear it;hush, Puss! stop purring. " Puss purred on all the same, for Ned'swords were followed by no hostile act towards her. No one, much lessHelen's pet, was ever treated inhospitably at Mr. Nelson's fireside. Now there was a short silence in the happy group, and nothing washeard but the fitful wind without, the crackling of the fire, andthe contented sound of the purring cat within. Mrs. Nelson was thefirst to speak. "Is it not time, " said she, "for John to return fromthe village? I cannot help expecting a letter from James. If, "--andthe color left her cheeks, --"if he was alive and well, I am sure hemust have written, and we must have a letter by Captain S. " "I hearJohn coming up the avenue now. " In a moment Ned was gone to see whatpackages were brought from the office, and in another he was backagain with a parcel in his hand. "Here, Father, " said he, "here arethe newspapers, and here, Mother, is a big letter from uncle Johnfor you. " His mother opened her brother's letter. "A letter from Jemmy, " saidshe, with a voice trembling with joy. "A letter from Jemmy, " saidall the children together, and in a moment each one was silent, inorder to listen to its contents. "Dear Mother: Here we are all safe and sound; but when you get this, you will, I know, thank God you have yet a son Jemmy. I have kept asea journal which you and father can see when I get home; so I shallsay nothing more about our voyage, except that I got along verywell, considering I was a green hand, and that I made friends withthe mates and all the sailors. O, they were so kind to me! and luckyit was for me that they did love me so well, as you'll seepresently. Well, to my story. I hate to come to it, for it makes mefeel so badly; but don't be frightened, Mother; here I am on shore, as lively as a cricket, and could make as much noise in your housenow as I ever did. Well, dear Mother, all, as I said, went well withme, till one night, when we were on the Grand Bank; it was a rainstorm, and the captain sent me up to the topmast to reef a sail;some one had been up, in the course of the day, and dropped somegrease, and I think my foot slipped; I was confused, the rain beatin my face, I could not see any thing, and I fell. I must have beenstunned, for I am sure some time must have passed before I foundmyself overboard, struggling to keep myself above water. In amoment, I saw my whole danger. I knew that the ship must have goneon some distance, and that it was useless to try to swim after her. I did not think the sailors would know I had fallen overboard, forsome time, and I knew that, in such a dark, stormy night, it wasalmost impossible for them to do any thing to save me. You know, dear Mother, I am an excellent swimmer; but I immediately thoughtthat my only chance was to save my strength as much as possible; soI turned over on my back and floated, and determined to keep myselfas quiet as I could, so as not to exhaust myself before the boatcould come for me, which was what I hoped for, though I knew therewas small chance of it, on such a night. In a few moments I sawindistinctly one of those great birds that follow after vessels, hovering over me, and I felt his horrid wings brushing over my face. I used one of my arms to drive him away, while, with the other, Ikept myself on the top of the water; the waves rolled high, and, asthey broke over me, repeatedly filled my mouth with the bitterwater, so that I could not scream to let any one know where I was. Presently more birds, smaller however, fluttered their frightfulwings over me; but the large one, whose wings I am sure extended asfar as I could stretch my arms, was the worst; he kept hovering overme; O, I can see the frightful creature now! Well, Mother, don't bescared, for here I am as well as ever. I found my strength began tofail me. I could not see the ship. The cold was terrible. The horridbirds were hovering, and the waves were rolling over me. I thoughtof you and father, my brothers and sisters, my dear home; and I feltas if I could not bear my sufferings any longer, and that I hadbetter give up. I was about turning myself over and letting myselfgo, when I saw a black thing at a distance which I took for aporpoise. While I was looking to see what it was, I heard the words, 'Jemmy! Jemmy!' and I called out, 'Here I am!' This was the firstsound I had been able to make from the time I had fallen over, forif I opened my mouth it filled with water. They soon had me in theboat, and, soon after, I was in the ship. Every thing was done forme, that love and kindness could do. I could not have held out muchlonger. It was three quarters of an hour that I had been in thewater. They told me afterwards that when they found I had fallenoverboard, they put the ship about; but as they heard no sound fromme, and knew not whereabouts I had fallen, the captain said it wasuseless to do any thing to save me. The steward and cook and one ofthe men were getting out the boat, but it had a bad leak in it, andthe captain advised them not to go. They would not listen to him;they said they would not give me up; and they lowered the boat. Oneof the men baled all the time, and as he had nothing else to stopthe leak with, he put his foot in the place, and he kept the boatabove water. By the merest chance they steered directly for the spotwhere I was. So you see, Mother, it was their love and their couragethat saved my life. " "Now, dear Mother, you will not feel anxious about me any more, for Ithink you may be sure that nothing worse will happen to me than hashappened already on this voyage. I hope to be with you in a monthafter you got this, and I don't think I shall want to go to seaagain for one while. My love to father and the boys, and to Julia, and Helen, and the cat, and all inquiring friends. Glad enough Ishall be to be with you all again. I never knew before, dear Mother, how much I loved you all. Your affectionate son, Jemmy. " "P. S. After my fall I could not stand for a fortnight, but they alltook the kindest care of me, and I am now as well as possible. " It were vain to attempt to describe what passed in the hearts ofthese parents at hearing of the safety of their son after such aperil. The letter was read over and over again, and each oneexpressed his happiness in his own way; little Helen wondered heshould have thought of Puss, but said it was just like Jemmy. "Iwould not believe such a story if I had it from any other but Jameshimself, " said his father. "Nothing, so uncommon as to save a personthat falls overboard in such a way; and at night I never knew of it, and I have been many years at sea. Nothing but James's presence ofmind and courage saved his life; he did the only thing that wouldhave been of any avail; had he attempted to swim after the ship, hewould have been lost. It seems now as if the story could not betrue. His presence of mind, and his courage, and his knowledge ofswimming would, however, have been of little use to him, if the loveof the sailors for him had not been stronger than the love of theirown lives, which they put in the greatest peril to save this poorboy who, a few weeks before, was an utter stranger to them. Hownoble! how beautiful! The glory of the wise and so-called great ofthis world fades away as we look at this simple act of self-devotedlove. In the hearts of each of these men we see the angel that Godhas placed within us all, ever declaring, if we would listen, thatlove is greater than life, that there is no death to the soul. " The children, not long after, retired to bed; the thought of dearbrother Jemmy made them insensible to the storm; all was sunshineand peace in their young hearts. The parents sat up many hours ofthat stormy night talking over and over again the story of theirboy's imminent danger and of his miraculous escape. The hoarse breathings of the wild storm, its alternate deep, far-offmoaning and shrill piping, through every loophole and crevice in thehouse, sounded to these heaven-attuned souls like solemn music, andthey joined in sweet accord in silent, grateful prayer to theInfinite Spirit. Frank and Harry, with their mother, were now silent for a fewmoments. Soon, slowly and solemnly, the bell struck one, two, three, four, five, six, and so on to twelve, and the first moment of thenew year began to be. They kissed each other, said "Happy New Year, "and were soon fast asleep in bed.