"Yes, papa. You mean if Bessie and I were to put all our money into that box of mamma's, and just count it and count it, and never take any out, or spend it for the library or anything else, we would be little misers even if we are not old men?"
"Papa," said Bessie, "yesterday morning at prayers, you yead about the lord who went away and gave his servants money to take care of, and how one of them put his money in a napkin, and dug a hole in the ground and hid it there; and when his lord came home, he was angry with him, and punished him. Was that man a miser?"
"Yes, dear, I think we may call him a miser; and I am glad my little girl remembers so well. We may be miserly with other things than money. If we do not use any of the gifts which God has given us as he intended we should do, for our own good and that of others, we are misers; and it is as wrong to do so as it would be to waste them, or throw them away. Suppose you were to say, 'These are very small hands and feet which God has given to me; they are not nearly as large as papa's or mamma's, or even as strong as my brothers; they cannot do much work, so they shall do none at all; I will not run up and down stairs, or go little errands: I will not rock the baby, or amuse Franky, or do any other thing which might save my mamma some trouble; I will not even play about, or go out to walk, but just sit still and do nothing all day long. Or, this is a very young mind of mine, it knows very little, and cannot understand everything, so I shall not try to learn and add more knowledge to that which I have. I cannot do much for the praise and glory of God who made me and gave me every good thing I have, so I shall not try to please him at all. I will take and keep all he gives me, but I will not use it or enjoy it, nor let others do so.' This would be like the poor foolish man who buried his talent, instead of making use of it for his lord. It would be like a miser."
"But, papa," said Maggie, "I don't think I could be a miser with my hands and feet. Why, I would think it was dreadful to sit still all day and do nothing. They will move sometimes even when I don't mean them to; and if I want them to keep still, they seem to forget and just move of themselves."
Mr. Bradford smiled as he remembered how true Maggie's words were. It did indeed seem impossible for those restless little hands and feet to keep still; they must always be busy about something, and he knew that she could scarcely have a greater punishment than to be forced to sit quiet for ten or fifteen minutes at a time.
"Papa must take his hands and feet away now," he said, "or they will be late at the office. The hands and the head, too, have a good deal to do to-day if they are to feel at liberty to go to Riverside to-morrow; so kiss me for good-by."
Mr. Bradford stopped in the breakfast-room, where the boys still were, and telling them of what their sisters were trying to do, and how earnest they were about it, said he hoped they would neither tease nor laugh at them, but would do all in their power to help them.
Harry and Fred were really sorry when they heard how distressed the little girls had been, and promised to do nothing more to trouble them.
"I cannot quite promise not to laugh at Bessie, papa," said Harry. "She says such droll things in such a droll way, or twists something about, and comes out with it with such a grand air for such a mite of a thing as she is, that a fellow can't help laughing."
"The greater the difficulty, the greater the kindness to your little sister, my son. I know it is hard, sometimes almost impossible, to help smiling, or even laughing outright, at some of Bessie's speeches; but you may avoid doing so in a loud, boisterous, mocking way. Put yourselves in her place, boys, and think how you would like it."
"I'm sure I do not mind being laughed at, papa; at least, not much," said Harry.
"No," said Fred, "that he don't; so he never is laughed at. The other fellows say it's no fun teasing him, he's so cool about it."
"But Bessie does mind it," said his father, "and so does Maggie; and we are not to judge that a thing is right and kind because it is not disagreeable to ourselves. You know your Aunt Annie is exceedingly afraid of a mouse."
"Indeed, she is," said Fred. "She'll squeal and jump on a chair, and turn as white as a sheet, if she only suspects there is one in the room."
"It is real honest fear, too," said Harry, "no make believe about it. I am real sorry for her, too; it must make her so uncomfortable."
"Yes," said his father. "She was frightened by one when a child, and cannot overcome her fear of them. Now I am not in the least afraid of mice; indeed, if they were not so mischievous, I should enjoy seeing them play about the house; but would you not think me cruel and unfeeling if I were to allow a mouse to be in the room with Annie, while I either amused myself with her fears or was quite careless of them? Would you think I was doing as I would be done by?"
"No, sir," said both the boys.
"Then you see the golden rule teaches us not only to avoid doing those things to others which are painful to ourselves, but also to put ourselves in their places, and to say, 'How should I wish to be done by if I felt as they do?' There, I have given two little lessons this morning, – one to my girls, and one to my boys, – and shall have to read a third to my self on the meaning of the word punctual if I do not hurry away. Good-by to you."
As soon as their father had left them, Maggie and Bessie ran away to mamma's room. Maggie, always eager for anything new, begged that she might have one of her towels to begin to hem it at once. But mamma said it was time for their walk, and they must go out first. They found not only Mr. Hall, but also their friend, Colonel Rush, in the park, and Bessie introduced them to each other, saying, gravely, "Mr. Hall, please to know Colonel Yush; Colonel Yush, please to know Mr. Hall."
The two gentlemen smiled, shook hands heartily, and certainly seemed well pleased to know each other. Perhaps it was partly because they were both so fond of the dear little girls who stood beside them.
When the children went home, mamma had a towel neatly folded and begun for Maggie. She sat down at once, sewing away in a great hurry, and saying to Bessie that she was going to finish it that day. Presently mamma, seeing that she was moving along the hem pretty fast, came and looked at her work.
"Oh, Maggie, Maggie!" she said, "this will not do, my dear child. Such long, crooked stitches! Why, you can sew much better than this."
"Yes, mamma, but then I am in such a hurry to finish it."
"But you must not be in such a hurry, dear, that you cannot take time to do it neatly. Suppose, when the towel is done, I were to hand you three cents and say, 'I am in such a hurry, Maggie, I shall only give you three cents.' Would you think that quite fair?"
Maggie laughed. "No, indeed, mamma; but you would not do such a thing."
"I hope not; and when you come to think about it, I am sure you will see that it is not fair for you to do my work poorly if I am to pay you for it."
"Must it all come out, mamma?" asked Maggie, as her mother took the work from her hand.
"I am afraid so, dear. See there, those stitches would not hold at all. I think we will take half of one side of a towel for each day's task. That will finish them in time, and you will soon tire of the work if you try to hurry through it in this way."
"Mamma," said Bessie, as her mother handed back the towel to Maggie to make a fresh beginning, "could not I learn to sew?"
"Yes, I think you are old enough to begin, if you will be patient."
"Oh, yes, mamma, I will be patient to learn, if you will be patient to teach me."
There was not much doubt about that, so the dear kind mother found a little piece of work and fixed it for Bessie. But she had no thimble of her own, and for that day had to use an old one of Maggie's with a piece of paper wrapped round her finger to make it stay in its place. Mamma promised to buy her one that very day, and after this, whenever Maggie hemmed her towels, Bessie would sit beside her learning to put in stiches that grew neater and neater every day.
IV.
FLOSSY
"AUNT HELEN! Aunt Helen!" said Maggie, almost as soon as they reached Riverside