"I say it's too bad, Aleck! Can't you _ever_ ride down hill?" Frankie'sbright face looked troubled. He was buttoning his warm overcoat, to goout for a morning ride.
Aleck's patient face for a moment wore a sad, weary look, then, lookingup cheerfully, he said, "Oh, I dinna mind, Frankie,--not much. You kenI'm used to staying i' the house. Then this window is sae sunny, andDickie sings most a' the time, and the flowers are sae bonny."
"Well, _I_ get awful tired when I have to stay in. It's just like havingSunday every day." Frankie gave his fur cap an energetic pull over hiseyes, and was starting off with a merry whistle, but his mother, who hadbeen a quiet listener to the conversation, said, "Wait a moment,Frankie, I want to talk to you. Why is it that you do not like Sunday?Don't you like to give _one_ day to God for all the six working andplaying days He gives you?"
"I want to go, mamma. Oh, dear, the boys'll be gone," was the impatientreply, as he twisted the knob of the half-opened door. "Can't I go,mamma?"
Mrs. Western said nothing, and, unheeding her reproachful look, he ranoff, drawing his sled after him.
It was a clear, crisp, sparkling winter morning. Coasting never wasbetter, and Joe and Will were as merry as ever, but Frankie did notenjoy it.
"What's the matter, Frank?" asked Joe, seeing his sorrowful expression."Fingers cold?"
"No," said Frankie, "but I am going home," and without a word ofexplanation he ran off. Rushing into the sitting-room, his eyes filledwith tears, he put his arms around his mother's neck and said, "O mamma,I am sorry."
"So am I, darling," said his mother, kissing the tearful face. "Sit downhere by me and we will talk a little about the Sabbath, and see why itis my little boy dislikes it so much."
"I would like it, mamma, only it is so long. I don't like to keep sostill, and I get so sleepy in church, and I keep thinking about my sledand the fun I could have if it wasn't Sunday." He paused, quitesatisfied that he had made a good case for himself, and his mother,taking up her sewing, told him, in her low, calm tones, the followingstory.
"A father sent his little boy on a long journey, through a dark anddangerous way; but before bidding him good-bye, he gave him a letterwhich would tell him how to escape the dangers, and how to find the waythrough the darkness. This is what he said to the child, who stood alleagerness and haste to be gone.
"'My child, you are just starting on your journey. You are full of lifeand hope, and the way looks bright before you, but even in this broad,sunny path, are many dangers; and, as you travel further, the pathnarrows, the flowers are fewer, and the forest is darker; still furtheron, are rocks, and underbrush, and pitfalls, and at the end of thisrough way is a dark and rapid river which you must cross. If you passover this stream safely, you will find yourself in a beautiful place. Inthat land I will give you a home, and you shall live with me forever.'
"'But how can I go all that dark way, father?' and the boy's face wasfull of doubt and fear.
"The father handed him a letter, saying,
"'This letter will tell you just what to do. Whenever you are introuble, look at this. Nothing can happen to you about which this willnot help you. But you are not to travel all the time. Every seventh dayyou shall pause in your journey to rest and read this letter, and thinkof all I have told you, and of the pleasant home to which you are going.It will give you so much strength, and make your heart so light andhappy that you can travel faster and further than if you had notstopped.'
"'But need I stop at first, father, when the way is easy and I am nottired?' asked the boy.
"'Oh yes, my child, or you will forget it by and by; then, though theway be easy, it has dangers which you cannot avoid unless you study theletter very carefully, and store it in your mind, so that you will knowwhat to do if danger comes suddenly. Therefore, my child, remember torest in your journey one day out of seven, read this letter, and thinkof your father and the home beyond the river.'
"Merrily the child started off, chasing the butterflies and plucking theflowers as he ran along the sunny way, so full of glee that he seldomthought of his father's letter until the day of rest came. Then he readit, and tried to think of what his father had said to him; but it wasvery hard to shut out the visions of the butterflies and birds andflowers. He was restless and tired, for he cared more to please himselfthan obey his father; so he gradually gave up the day of rest, and thencommenced his troubles. All his roses were full of sharp thorns, thepath was crowded with rough stones and pricking briers, great snakesdarted out from the trunk of every fallen tree, and he grew so wearywith constant running, was so bruised with frequent stumbling, and sotorn and scratched with briers, that you would hardly have known him. Ifhe had gone on in this way much longer I do not think he ever could havereached the pleasant home which his father was to have ready for him.But in the midst of his troubles he remembered the letter, and, drawingit out of his pocket, read the almost forgotten message, 'Remember theSabbath day to keep it holy.'"
"That's one of the commandments, mamma," Frankie said. "But was that atrue story about the little boy? What was his name?"
"Frankie Western," replied his mother. "God, his heavenly Father, hasgiven him a letter, the Holy Bible, which will tell him how to liveevery day so as to escape all the sins that lie in his path, like thestones and thorns and briers which troubled the little boy. His Fatherhas told him to leave his work and play on the Sabbath, and study thisletter, the Bible; but he does not like to do it, and I fear that infuture he will have as much trouble as did the child about whom I havetold you. He will say more naughty words, and be more apt to disobeymamma, and to feel cross toward Benny Field. Then as he grows older, andthe way becomes darker, I fear he will lose the way and never reach hishome in heaven."
"I don't want to lose the way, mamma. I won't if I'm good, will I,mamma, and stay in Sundays, and read the Bible like Aleck?" askedFrankie, anxiously.
"No, darling, you will not lose your way if you love God and do just ashe commands you; and one of his commandments is, 'Remember the Sabbathday to keep it holy.'"
CHAPTER V.
FRANKIE TRUSTS IN CHRIST.
Although Frankie was a merry, thoughtless little fellow, his mother'sstory about keeping the Sabbath made such a deep impression upon hismind that the next Sunday morning his first thought on waking was as tohow he should spend the day. There seemed to be a great many hours fromdawn till dark, and he sighed half aloud as he thought of the smoothcrust of snow and the snow-man left unfinished the day before.
Aleck was awake, and, hearing the sigh, asked what was the matter. "Oh,I was just thinking, Aleck," was the reply, "how long it will be beforeMonday. Don't it seem ever so long to you? I wish you could go tochurch with mamma and me. It's nice to hear them sing, but I get sleepywhen the minister talks. Didn't you ever go to church?"
"Yes, but I canna remember about it very well. It was before I was lame.But I am sure I wad like to gang to the kirk," said Aleck.
"What made you lame?" Frankie asked, for the first time seeming torealize that his patient playmate had not always been a cripple.
"I fell down the stairs i' the paper-mill where my mither was. It hurtmy back some way."
"Won't you get well some time?" asked Frankie, earnestly.
"I dinna ken, but I'm thinkin' 'twill nae be lang till I gang to mymither."
"O Aleck," and Frankie put his arms about his neck, "you mean you'regoing to die, and you mustn't. You'd have to be put way down in theground."
"Only my body, Frankie. My soul would be wi' God and my mither. And oh!it is sic a bonny place, and Sunday a' the time. Then I wi' be free fraepain."
"Can everybody go there, Aleck? Am I going too, and mamma, and my papathat's way off in California?"
"Everybody who loves Jesus. If you love him he wi' take you right therewhen you die. Why dinna you love him, Frankie?"
"I do want to," was the earnest answer, "but I don't know how. I don'tbelieve I love him, or I wouldn't be so naughty."
"The minister at t
he kirk wi' tell you a' about it, an' your Bible an'your mither, an' if you pray, God wi' help you."
"I will try, Aleck. I'll ask mamma about it, and I'll listen toeverything Mr. Price says, and I'll pray too."
Frankie was very much in earnest, and, after he was dressed, he knelt bythe bedside and prayed that God would help him to be good and to loveJesus. On the way to church he talked with his mother, and she tried tolead him to the Good Shepherd. Mr. Price's sermon was written for thelambs of the flock, and was full of encouragement to the little ones to"come to Jesus." Frankie listened with earnest attention to that "sweetstory of old, when Jesus was here among men;" his eyes filled withtears, and his heart throbbed at the story of the cruel death on thecross; and when, in conclusion, Mr. Price spoke of the tender love thatthe Saviour had for little children, and entreated them to give theirhearts to him and love him in return, he whispered softly, "I will tryto love Jesus."
Frankie was not the only one of the children whose heart had beentouched, as the next hour spent in the Sabbath School testified. Theteachers sought to deepen the impression, and the Holy Spirit so wroughtupon their young hearts that many went home rejoicing in a Saviour'slove.
That Sabbath was a happy day in Frankie's home. Mrs. Western's heart wasfull of a mother's joy over her child, and Aleck shared in herhappiness; as for Frankie, although he could comprehend but little, heknew that Jesus loved him, had died for him, and that he wanted the loveand service of just such little children. He was but a child, and wouldoften err, but the hand in which his was clasped was the same stronghand which upholds the best and wisest of us all.
CHAPTER VI.
THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL.
In the spring, Frankie commenced going to school. Miss Campbell, hisSabbath School teacher, received a dozen little boys and girls at herown house. They were all nearly of an age and old playmates, so a merrylittle company they made--full of fun and mischief; but never had schoola gentler, lovelier mistress than Miss Campbell, or Miss Ruth, as shewished the children to call her.
The first day of school was as delightful as April sunshine could makeit, and Frankie's heart seemed full of sunshine; at least it shone outof his bright eyes, as he kissed his mother, and bidding Aleck good-bye,he ran down the walk, and disappeared behind the poplars. His motherand Aleck watched till the trees hid him from view, then Mrs. Westerntook her sewing, and Aleck his book. He studied a little each day andalways looked forward to the lesson hour with pleasure, but this morninga sigh escaped him as he turned from the out-door sunshine to thein-door work. Full of pity for the patient child, Mrs. Western sat downbeside him, and smoothing his hair caressingly, said, "It is hard, mychild. I wish you could go too, but your heavenly Father knows best. Hedoes not willingly afflict you."
The tender words brought tears to his eyes, and, resting his headwearily on his hand, he said, "I ken it is a' for the best, I hae a guidhame. You are like my ain mither. The Laird is guid, but I am saetired."
"You will not feel so tired when you can be out in the air more,"replied Mrs. Western, cheerily. "Keep up your courage. You may be astrong, hearty boy yet."
"Please tell me about heaven. It seems to me it is a bonny country, fu'o' singin' birds, and wi' the 'green pastures and still waters;' but Iread in the Book that the streets were a' paved wi' gold." The boy's eyebrightened as he spoke of heaven.
"'Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, neither hath it entered intothe heart of man to conceive' the beauties, the glories of heaven," saidMrs. Western; "but this we know, that our Father is there, and that weshall be free from pain, and sorrow, and sin. It will not be long beforewe shall _know_ for ourselves all the glories of that home."
Thus they talked of heaven until Aleck forgot all the suffering andweariness of earth.
Frankie reached Miss Campbell's just in time to get his seat beforeschool commenced. Miss Campbell read a brief chapter in the Bible, andoffered an earnest prayer to God, that he would help them to do rightand perform all their duties faithfully. Then the lessons were assigned,and they all went to work in earnest. "'New broom sweeps clean,'" saidMrs. Keller, grimly, as she looked in upon them in the afternoon. "Waita week or so and your hands'll be full. Mark my words, Ruth, thoseyoung ones will torment the life out on ye."
Miss Ruth smiled, and looked hopefully at her little charge, as shesaid, "I don't expect to escape my share of trouble, Mrs. Keller, but Ido not think that much of it will come by these little ones."
The children heard the conversation, and mentally resolved to be verygood, in order to disappoint Mrs. Keller and to please Miss Ruth.
When school closed they all joined in singing one of their Sunday schoolhymns--"Let us walk in the Light." Frankie lingered a little after theothers went out, and going to Miss Ruth said, "Won't you tell me,please, just what it means to walk in the light? Is it to be good?"
"To be good?" said Miss Ruth. "Yes; those who walk in the light of God'scommandments are good. But I will explain it. If you were walking alonein the woods on a night so dark that you could not see one step beforeyou, would you not be in danger of falling? And if, in the path, therewere deep holes, fallen trees, and tangled underbrush, would you _dare_to walk in such a place on a dark night?"
"No, ma'am," said Frankie, promptly. "I'd take our lantern, and then Iguess it wouldn't be so very easy."
"Not _very_ easy, perhaps," Miss Ruth replied, "but if in your lanternyou had so bright a light that you could see your path plainly, then youcould walk around a fallen trunk, separate the tangled briers, and avoidthe dangerous holes. With such a journey before you, would you not bevery grateful to a kind friend who would offer you such a lantern,saying, 'Take this to be a lamp unto your feet and a light unto yourpath. If you walk in this light, and trust to me, I will guide yousafely through the wilderness into the pleasant land beyond, where youwill need no light, and where you will forget all the rough way in whichyou have come, or remember it only to sing praises to Him who was yourGuide and Friend.'"
"Oh, Miss Ruth," Frankie said eagerly, "I know what you mean. The lightis the Bible, and the pleasant land is heaven. Mamma once told mesomething like what you have said."
"Then, Frankie," said Miss Ruth, "remember to 'walk in the light' ofGod's word."
Bidding his teacher good-night, Frankie went home, his heart full ofwhat he had heard about the "light of God," and of resolutions to "walkin that light."
When he went in he found Aleck watching for him, anxious to hear aboutthe school. So he told him the events of the day, and the conversationhe had with Miss Ruth, adding, in conclusion, "and I'm going to try towalk in the light, Aleck. Let us read the Bible the first thing in themorning, before we have a chance to do anything wrong."
"Yes," said Aleck, "and then we'll pray."
"And 'watch,'" added Mrs. Western. "Watch over your thoughts andfeelings, and all the little actions of the day. Trust in God, watch andpray, and He will give you the victory."
CHAPTER VII.
THE COASTING MATCH--WHO BEAT?
Miss Ruth found that Mrs. Keller was mistaken; that, instead of being_torments_, her pupils were little _comforts_, and she loved them allvery dearly. The spring and summer days flew by, vacation came, andagain in the autumn she gathered the children about her.
Much to the annoyance of the little girls, and somewhat to Frankie's,Ben Field had gained admission. "Oh, dear!" sighed Kate Plummer, "thatBen Field is just going to spoil our fun. I can't endure him."
"I do wish Miss Ruth had said he couldn't come," said Lou White, then,tossing back her brown curls, "there's one thing about it, _I_ shan'tnotice him."
"Nor I," "nor I," said they all, excepting Millie Ray. Sweet Millie Ray!"Poor Ben," she said, "how lonely he'll be. Don't you think we _ought_to be good to him, Frank," turning to Frankie, who was just entering theschool-room. "Don't you think we _ought_ to be good to Ben Field?"
"Of course, Millie," said Frankie. "Why? Who isn't?"
"Oh, nobody, only some of us are sorry h
e's coming to school," Millieanswered. "Ain't you sorry?"
Frankie hesitated a moment, then said frankly, "No, Millie, I'm notsorry when I think about it as I ought to. Ben needs to come as much asany of us. I guess he'll be pleasant enough if we are good to him."
Frankie's influence gave Ben a better reception from the girls than hewould otherwise have met with, and, for a time, he was quite a pleasantplaymate. But after a few weeks, when the novelty had worn off, his oldspirit of mischief manifested itself. He delighted in teasing theyounger boys and little girls.
One day, after the snow came, the boys had a race in coasting, to seewhich of their sleds was the swiftest. They started at the very top of along hill. There was Willie Prime on his Reindeer, Joe West on hisExpress, Ben Field on his Lightning, David Dwight on his Victor, andFrankie on his Light.
They are ready to start. Frankie counts, "one--two--three--four"--andaway go Reindeer, Express, Lightning, Victor, and Light. Willie steerstoo much toward the right, and Reindeer plunges head-foremost into adrift; Joe looks around to see Willie, Express runs off from the track,and both are landed in a ditch on the left. The race is now forLightning, Victor, and Light; Light being a little in advance, Lightningnext, then Victor. Ben is very anxious to win the race. By a push he mayturn Light from the track, and thus gain upon Frankie. He steers hissled to the right, and comes down upon Light so suddenly that Frankie isthrown off into the snow, and Victor and Lightning reach the foot of thehill nearly at the same time.