V /u' >^^^, N ^. r >* % \, ^^ ^ ^ ^ o 3 t .^" -^ WiUie-, Rest. >^~2 WII.LIR AT CHURCH. LITTLES WILLIE, BT THE Atrrnoi: or 'uncle jack THB FAULT-KILLEB," " UNICA," bto. *fc*-- NEW YORK : OENERA.L PROTESTANT EriSCOiPAL SUNDAY SCHOOL UNION, AND CHURCH BOOK SOCIETY. Nu. T62 BROADWAY, 1860. EDWARD O. JENKINft, iPnntfr & ^tfrcotnper, No. 26 Frankfort Strkst. WILLIE'S REST • # I WILLIE'S REST. ^HEN Willie was very small indeed he did not go to church : for mamma said he was so weak and ignorant he would not be able to sit still, nor to keep awake, but that he might disturb others. She told him, also, that God was so kind and pitiful to very little children, that he forgave them their weakness, and loved them the better for it, just as earthly parents do. On Sundays the house and nursery were always quiet : Willie noticed that, as soon as he could notice anything, and he was always very happy on Sundays, looking at pictures, gathering flowers, and trying to keep quiet also, and never to be naughty on that first day of the 1* [5] 6 Willie's rest. week. Yet he wanted to go to church too, and when he saw mamma putting on her best dress in the morning, and nurse hers in tlie afternoon, to go to church, he always enquircMl liow long it would be before he was old enougli to go too. At last that Sunday came, and about it I am going to tell you. Willie was up very early, and nurse dressed him in a clean white frock. Then he ran into the garden and gathered some flowers for mamma, and one rose for papa to put in his button-hole. When he went in to breakfast he* gave the flowers to them, for he was to break- fast with his papa and mamma on Sundays—^ that was itself a great pleasure. After break- fast Willie repeaJte some verses to papa, which he had learned the day before on pur- pose, for he never learned any lessons on Sun- day. Then, it was time to be dressed for church, for it was a long way to churcli, across the fields, and up a long green lane. Nurse dressed Willie in his best blue velvet spencer, and his best straw hat with white ribbons, and his best gloves, and the pretty frill which his aunt had worked for him. Then he ran into the garden, to gather a rosebud and a lily of the valley to carry in his hand. And when he returned into the house, mamma gave him a beautiful little prayer-book, which had his name written in it, and which was to be his own from that day. It was a delightful walk to church. Willie walked between his mamma and papa, — an enjoyment which he did not often have, because his papa was in London all the week, and his only day of rest was Sunday. Mamma had a very pretty dress on, and papa wore his best coat ; and, after thinking a good deal about it, Willie asked, — " Why do we wear better clothes on Sundays than we do the other days of the week? " " It is to show honor to the church we are going to, because that is God's house," papa replied. " It is a little thing to do in honor of anything so great, but it shows we feel in our minds that we ought to give God the best of everything. It is the same feeling, Willie, 8 WILLIES REST. that makes papas and mammas take their young babies to be christened — tlien they give God what is most precious to them. It is the same reason which makes you gather your best (lowers to give to me and your mamma. For, though God is your great Parent, still your mother and I stand between you and Him, while you are so very little. As you offer us the flowers, we offer you to Him ; for you are like a flower to us, and your little brother is like another flower, making our lives as bright as the flowers make the garden." " Don't you remember, Willie," said mamma, " how very beautiful a temple Solomon built in the olden times for God ? That temple was the church of those old times ; and all that was rich and glorious, gold, and silver, and ivory, the fairest colors, and most precious woods, were used to build the temple. That was an emblem of what we should do for God. There is a fine text which says, ' All things come of God, and of His own do we give Him.'" " Was that the reason, papa," asked Willie, " that when Christ was born in tlio manger, those wise men brouglit Him presents, and called Him the King of the Jews ?" '' Yes, Willie ; you remember they brought gold, which is the most valuable thing ; and frankincense and myrrh, which are the two things which smell the sweetest." "And is that the reason, papa, why they build churches so handsome, and have organs and bells, and sometimes colored windows, as nurse says tliey do ? '' " Certainly, Willie. A great many years ago rich good people built great churches called cathedrals, which were beautiful indeed. Stone and wood and marble were carved to adorn them, and they had long lines of arches, as shady and as high as the avenue of trees in front of your grandpapa's house. The windows were of colors more splendid than the rainbow, or the petals of red and blue and yellow flowers. There were great organs, too, in those cathedrals, and boys and men were taught to sing the praises of God in the finest voices. Every day in those great 10 Willie's rest. churches there was prayer and ])raise in sweet music, not only on Sundays. And there are many such cathedrals standing now, having lasted all these years because they are so strong- ly built ; and some day, Willie, you shall go with us to see one." " But they don't build such beautiful churches now, do they, papa ? " " There are more churches wanted now, Willie, and more people : and everybody is not rich, as you know. But there are many rich people who help to build beautiful new churches. And the good Queen Victoria, whom you love so much, gave a beautiful colored window to a church the other day. " But you know, dear Willie, that though, when you bring your mamma or me a beauti- ful moss rose-bud, or a fair little lily of the valley, out of your own garden, we like and admire it very much ; yet, if you had no gar- den, and could only gather and bring us a few daisies out of the field, we should love them quite as well, because they would show your love to us as much as the lilies and the Willie's rest. U roses. So it is with tliat Aliniglity Father who loves lis all. He hears our prayers and praises as well ill the churches whicli arc not so hand- some, as in the rich ones or the old cathedrals ; and if we were in a desert, where there was no church at all, He would listen as kindly, if we prayed with all our hearts, and loved' to praise Him." And, as papa said those words, they came up to the churcliyard gate. Nurse had taken Willie to see tlic churchyard several times in his walks, and he had always thought it looked solemn and beautiful, though very still, in the midst of the green graves and the white tomb- stones. B^it to-day it looked pleasant as well as peaceful, for many persons, rich and poor and many little children, all in their best dresses, were coming into the churchvard, and the sweet bells were ringing— those bells which Willie had often listened to, at a dis- tance, when he was too young to go to church. He had never been in the church before, ex- cept when he was a little baby, to be chris- tened, and of course he could not remember 12 Willie's rest. that. He held his breatli wliile mamma led him up the aisle into the pew, for it made him feel ,i^raver than he had ever done before, to see all those people met together in order to pray to God, and to thank Him for all His kindness, and think of how to please Him best. Mamma took his hat off, and found the place in his prayer-book for him, before the clergyman, in his white robe, got into the reading-desk. When the service began Willie was very attentive, indeed. He followed every word in his book, and made all tlie answers, and tried to sing when the school-children, on each side of the organ, chanted the psalms. And when everybody knelt down, Willie put his book up to his face, as he saw papa and mamma do, and tried to pray in his heart. But when the sermon began, Willie felt a lit- tle tired, and he went on feeling more so. His mamma had told him tliat perhaps he would feel tired, because the service is long for a little child, who is not fond of sitting still. But she had made Willie promise he would sit still even if he were tired, and he WILLI E'd REST. 13 tried very much to keep his promise ; and mamma saw that he was doing so, and smiled at liim once. Willie saw, in a pew before him, some chil- dren who were very fidgety ; there were two girls and a boy. The girls got up and down on the seats, and disturbed their mamma very much, for she was obliged to take her eyes off the clergyman every instant, and whisper to them to be still. But they were not still even then ; and, at last, they began to make dolls of their pocket-handkerchiefs, and behave as if tliey were playing in the nursery, instead of sitting in church. The boy, who was much younger than the girls, of course imitated their bad example. He took all kinds of things out of his pockets ; first a bit of string, and then a pencil, with which he scribbled on his mamma's prayer-book ; and then some marbles, which he stuffed into his mouth like plums. Oh, how shocked did AVillie feel ! and I think seeing them behave so badly helped him to behave well ; for he thought how sad it would have made his mamma and papa to see 2 14 Willie's rest. him play in church. The cliildren's mamma was shocked too, and she took the girls' pocket-liandkerchiefs away from them, and th6 boy's string and pencil, and she pulled the marbles out of his mouth. Then the boy slipped down, and sat on one of the hassocks, and Willie could not see him, but hoped per- haps he was going to be good. But Willie was to have a lesson, too, about going to sleep in church ; for the boy had gone fast to sleep, and presently he tumbled down on the floor at the bottom of the pew ! His mamma pulled him up, and I suppose he was dreaming, for he cried out loud, in the very middle of the sermon ! And, as his mamma lifted him on her lap, he cried louder : and the clergyman stopped in the middle of the sermon, and said in a very grave voice, " Take that child out!" Oh, how ashamed did the boy look when he had quite woke up, and remem- bered where he was, and felt himself led by his mamma down the aisle, with all the con- gregation looking at him I Willie thought, as the boy passed his papa's * WILLIE'S REST. 15 pew, that he would never, never go to sleep in church, for fear of doing the same thing, and being made so greatly ashamed. After the boy was gone, the girls too were very quiet till the end of the sermon ; so I hope the les- son did them good too. And Willie tried very much indeed to listen to the sermon, and he did remember a little piece of it, to tell his mamma and papa when they went out of church. After the service was over, Willie asked if he might look at the graves, and his papa and mamma took liim all round the churchyard. Willie did not tread upon the graves, but walked carefully between them. He wanted to find the graves of little children, and there were many there. One in particular pleased Willie, it was so pretty and kept so neatly. The grass was cut close, and there was a great deal of moss mixed with it ; and round it were planted lilies of the valley, out in white blos- som that summer Sunday. At the head of the grave there was a little white stone, and these words were cut on the stone, " Of such is the 16 Willie's rest. kingdom of heaven." And tliere was at the foot of the grave, to mark its length, a little white cross. The grave was just Willie's length, and the cross reminded him that tlio Saviour, who died upon the cross, said about little children, '' Of sucli is the kingdom of heaven." " Mamma," asked Willie, " do they make graves the shape of pillows because the people are at rest ?" " Perhaps those who first made them of that shape did so, Willie ; but there are graves of every shape and every kind in this great earth, where so many are at rest, their bodies as much in God's care under the ground, as their souls are in his care in heaven." "Mamma," Willie said, " I should like, if I die wliile I am little, to be buried in a grave like that, with flowers round me and a cross." " Dear Willie, it would not really matter how you were buried. When people and children die who leave dear friends behind them, their friends like to show their love and recollection of them by making their graves Willie's rest. 17 look bright and peaceful. But there are peo- ple who die witliout leaving friends, and chil- dren who are forgotten, except by God, in their graves. God remembers all. Tliere are people lying dead at the bottom of the sea. and underneath the sands of the desert ; and earthquakes have made great graves for hun- dreds of people at once ; and thousands of men have been killed in battles, and been put all together into large holes ; and, in times of great sickness, people have been buried with- out prayers. And there are caves in rocks where men's bodies are found after many years ; and men have died in vast forests, and their bones have turned white under the trees and never been buried at all. But God remembers them all, and sees all who are buried or turned to dust ; He watches over all and keeps all safe, to raise up perfect and beautiful when His good time comes. It does not matter where we are buried, if we die loving Him." I think this was a little sermon for Willie, out of mamma's mouth, which he understood better than the clergyman's because it was 2* V 18 Willie's rest. made on purpose for him. He listened to it all the time, but during the last two or three words he had been just a little impatient, for he saw something moving behind one of tlie great tombstones, a good way off from tlie lit- tle grave by which they stood. " Mamma," he asked, when she left off speak- ing, " may I go and see what is moving ? I think it is a sheep or a lamb, and I should like to stroke it." Mamma gave him leave, and he went gently among the graves till he got beliind the large tombstone. Beyond that tombstone there were no more stones, only a number of graves with- out any, where very poor persons were buried. Some of them were covered with long grass and daisies, but some were only brown earth ; those had been dug lately, and there had not been time for the grass to grow up. Willie felt sorry for the poor people at first, seeing they had no stones, no crosses, no lilies. But in a moment he remembered wliat his mamma had said, that it did not matter where people are buried if they died loving God. Willie Willie's rest. 19 soon saw that what he had noticed moving about was not a sheep or lamb, but a very lit- tle child, who was lying on the ground witli its head on one of the brown graves. This little child was dressed in a rough black frock and coarse black straw hat, and it had no tippet to cover its neck and arms ; and it was eating a little piece of very brown bread. AVillie went up to it ; it was a little boy he saw, less than himself. " What is the matter," asked Willie, " and why do you put your head on the grave that has no grass ? It is not so soft as the others where the grass and daisies grow." " My mammy is buried here," said the boy ; " only buried last Sunday, and they would not let me come to see her all the week, so I ran here after school." " Did you go to scliool in church ?" asked Willie. " I went before church, and to church after- wards," said the boy, eating his bread very fast, as though he were very hungry. " Are you very very sorry your mamma is 20 WILLIE'S REST. dead ?" asked Willie, who tliought, " Oh, how sad, how sad it must be ! how difiicult to be good or happy without a mamma !" Then the boy began to cry, and rubbed his fingers into his eyes, for he had no pocket- handkerchief And Willie was very sorry, and pulled out his little pocket-handkerchief and wiped his eyes for him. " Then, I suppose you have a papa ?" asked Willie, " and that is very nice." " No," said the boy, " my father died when I was a baby, and mammy went to market every day ; and when it was wet she caught a very bad cold, and lay in bed till last Sun- day, and tlien she died. And she said she was going to heaven, and told me not to fret, but to be a good boy. But I can't help fretting, and I can't always be good, because I feel miserable ; and I can't believe she is in heaven, when I look at this ugly place, where they liave hidden her." " But we must believe in heaven, because we can't see it," said Willie ; " mamma says so. And she says many people are buried in much Willie's kest. 21 uglier places than that. Earthquakes swal- lowed up some, and some fell in tlie sea, and some were buried without pra3'ers, and some weren't buried at all, but went to pieces under the trees. Don't you hear me say. tliat mamma told me it did not matter where people were buried, if they died loving God ? And your mamma did, or she would not have told you she was going to heaven. Is that little bit of bread your breakfast or your lunch ?" Willie asked, for the boy was eating up tlie last piece very hungrily. " One of the boys at school gave me half his bread that he brought for breakfast," an- swered the boy. " It was very kind of him, because I had very little bread for breakfast before I came to school." " And where do you live when you are at home ?" asked Willie, still more curious, and feeling more sorry. " I have not got a home, not even a home in one room now," said the boy. " Some gentle- men took me to another house after mother died, and there is a woman there with a great many children, and she takes care of me." 22 WILLI p:*s kest. " Is slie kind T asked Willie ^ *' Yes, slie kisses me sometimes ; but the children don't like me mucli, because I am sad and don't care to play. After churcli, when I said T should lie on my mammy's grave a bit, they all ran home, and I dare say all the pota- toes are eaten up by this time. I saved the bit of bread, which the other boy gave me be- fore school, because I wanted to stop behind." •' Do you only have potatoes for dinner on Sunday ?" asked Willie. " Except sometimes we have bacon and greens, and tliey are very nice. But we only were to have potatoes to-day, because the last piece of bacon is gone." Willie stood still one minute looking at the boy, and then ran back to his papa and mamma, for they had been so kind as to wait for him. " Oh, mamma !" cried he, for his heart was full ; " it is not a lamb, it is a boy, who has been sitting on his mamma's grave to eat his dinner ; and it is only brown bread, and they only have potatoes for dinner where the wo- man takes care of him : only potatoes on Sun- Willie's kest. 23 day, oh, mamma ! And the potatoes will all be eaten up, because he stayed behind to sit on his mamma's grave." Then Willie pulled his mamma's hand verv gently, and drew her a little way from papa. " Mamma, may I take the boy home and give him my dinner, for I am not very hungry, and I had an egg for breakfast. And we are going to have so nice a dinner, mamma,— duck and pudding, and cherry pie." Willie whispered this to mamma. But mamma said, " We need not be afraid to ask papa, Willie, for I am sure he will give the boy a nice dinner to-day to please you, as it is the first time you have been to church, and you tried to sit s.^11. xind I have no doubt papa will give you your dinner, too, Willie." And, indeed, Willie need not have been afraid to ask papa, for papa said " Yes" directly, and looked pleased to be asked. Then Willie ran to the boy and took hold of his hand, and said, "Be very happy, don't be sad to-day, for you are going home with me '24: WILLIES REST. to have dinner, and I can tell you it is a very nice dinner indeed." And tlie boy was very happy and very much surprised, and, for the first time in his life, was glad to be hungry. Papa was so kind as to say he would call at the house where the woman, who took care of the boy, lived, that she might know where he was. So papa and mamma walked on in front, and Willie and the boy behind. Willie talked to the boy all the way. He [leard many things from the boy about being f)Oor, and cold, and hungry, and about work- ing very hard. Those things made Willie ashamed to remember how often he had grum- bled in winter because the water was cold when he was washed"* and how often he had wished for cake when he was eating bread and butter ; and how many times he had been idle over his sliort easy lessons. About half tlie way home they came to the house where the boy lived ; it stood behind the hedge in a field full of stones, and was a very small house indeed. Willie's papa spoke Willie's rest. 25 to the woman, and she gave the boy leave to go. The rest of the way home, Willie repeated all the verses he knew to the boj, and the boy said some he had learned at school ; and then Willie told him a story from one of his little books. Tlie story was not finished when they reached home, and tlie boy was so sorry he could not hear the end, that Willie promised to give him the little book for his own. It was a great treat for the poor boy to see the garden, for he had never been in such a large one before. So much he admired it, that Willie asked his mamma to allow nurse to carry out into the garden the little table and chair that were kept in the nursery. And, as it was very fine, she allowed nurse to put them in the garden. It was the greatest treat the boy had ever had in his life, to have a good dinner at a little table covered with a white cloth, sitting in a little chair under the trees in which the birds were singing, amidst the sweet-smelling full-blown roses, and bushes of 3 26 purple lavender. And it was a great treat to Willie to wait upon him ; he ran out of the dining-room with his plate, and fetched it again that he might be helped twice, and took him some pie, and after dinner a little fruit and a biscuit. Then, after dinner, mamma called Willie into her dressing-room. ** Would you not like to give the little boy something to take away ? " " Yes, mamma," said Willie, " and I am going to give him one of my little books, for I began to tell him the story, and we got home before it was finished." " Very well, Willie ; but I dare say you would like to give him something to keep him warm, as he has no tippet. If you were a little girl you could make one for him ; but as you are a little boy and cannot work, you must give him one of your own. There is the grey cloth cape you used to wear in the winter in the garden ; but when your grandmamma knitted your white woollen jacket, I hung the cape up in my wardrobe, for you did not want both." Willie's rest. 27 " No more I did, mamma ; let me give it to the boy. And I will give him the four- penny piece which grandmamma gave me last Monday, for I'm sure I do not want any toys, and It's no good keeping money in a box and doing nothing with it." Mamma quite agreed to that, and was glad Wilhe tliought of giving it away, for he had been rather too fond of talking about keepino- his money in a box. *^ " I should like the boy to come every Sun- day to dinner, mamma," said Willie, while mamma was looking for the warm grey cape, "We must not talk about that to-day Willie, nor can I tell till I have spoken to' your papa. Perhaps if you were good all the week, and very still at church on Sunday morning, we might allow you to have such a pleasure. And next week we will talk about doing something for the boy besides ; for we should never, Willie, do good for others by fits and starts, but go on helping them, even if we have to give up something ourselves." Willie knew what mamma meant. Once 28 Willie's rest. he wanted to give a poor old blind man a penny a week all the winter, for his papa al- lowed him a penny every Saturday. For six weeks AVilliewas glad to give the penny, then, all at once, he wanted to save it and keep it in a box ; so he left off giving it to the poor blind man. Well, one day soon afterwards, he saw the man in the road, while he was walk- ing with nurse. Nurse asked him how he was. " Pretty well," said the blind man, •' but I don't enjoy my Sunday cup of tea so much as I used to, now I only have brown bread with it.'^ '' Why do you eat brown bread then ? " ask- ed nurse, for she wished Willie to hear, though the blind man did not know Willie was with nurse, as he could not see him. " Because little master left off giving me the penny ; I used to buy a white roll with the penny, and enjoyed it so much. But God bless little master : Vm sure so kind a little master had something better to do witli it, when he left off giving it to me." Willie knew he had done nothing? better Willie's rest. 2( with It, and was mucli aslmmed ; and I need scarcely say he gave his next week's pennx to the poor bl.nd„,an. But when n,a,nma spoke of doing good by fits and starts, he was remind- cdo t,,a ,tory f,f the blind man. Mamma folded up the cape; and Willie folded the four: penny piece and the story book in white paper and gathered a few flowers for the boy too so he went away after dinner, with his hands full of presents and his heart full of pleasure, for he had never had so happy a Sunday before. Sunday afternoon was come. Tlie sun was very hot ,n the garden, except under the tree, and WiUic thought, "I have been very happy oerainb^al the morning ; but noi /am getting tii-ed, too tired to look at pictures ; I arn:o:^'^^^"^°-'«>--^f^"^^e He need not have wondered, for mamma never forgot anything to make him happy and good. Baby was asleep for his afternoo 'nap •n his cradle in the nursery, and nurso was' go^ng to church. Papa went to read iTh" library, but mamma had not forgotten Willie! 3Q Willie's rest. j, She saw him stand looking rather melancholy out of the drawing-room window, and she went and took his hand. " Come, Willie, you and I will have a rest in the garden underneath the trees, and we will talk about Sunday, too." Willie was very glad, for when mamma talked to him alone, she always let him sit upon her lap. And mamma took a seat under the trees where it was very shady, though all round the garden was bright in the sun. There were sweet smells, sweet colours, and sweet sounds of bells ringing far away ; everything to make Sunday afternoon sweet to the thoughts of a child with a loving heart ; and Willie had a loving heart, though he was sometimes naughty, —nor had he been naughty that day. " I am very glad, mamma, you did not send me into the nursery to look at pictures ; I like best to shut my eyes on your lap, and hear you talk. And, mamma, you said we would talk about Sunday." " So we will, Willie. Can you tell me why Sunday is so good a time, and so great a bless- in jr for the world It? 31 " Why, mamma, because we think about God, and pray more all together tlian on other days, and sing praises too." "But there is another reason I want you to understand. Certainly we meet togetlier to pray and sing on Sunday ; but persons who love God try to please him all their lives long, and to keep His commandments every day of the week. Sunday is given to men by God that they may rest ; rest their souls by think- ing of heaven, rest their bodies by leaving all their work, rest their minds by doing no busi- ness on that day of the week. Suppose, Willie, that your papa and I were going away from home, and we said to you, ' Willie, all the time we are away you are to be very industrious at your lessons, and all that we leave you to do must be done by the time we return.' And then, suppose we set you long long sums, very hard spelling columns, and many many copies, — so many of all that you had not one instant for play all the time we were gone, but were obliged to do lessons till dinner, and just swallow your dinner very fast that you might 32 Willie's rest. go on with your tasks ; and again so at tea- time, and all the evening, till, when bed-time came, you were too tired even to say your prayere, and fell asleep before nurse undressed you. And suppose the lessons lasted till we came home, and we asked you then, * Willie, have you thought about us while we were away ? ' What answer do you think you would make to us ? " " Why," said Willie, opening his eyes a moment, " I should say, I had been thinking about my lessons too much to think about you and papa, and that you had given me such long lessons that they took all the time, and I had no time to write you any letters." " I dare say you would, Willie. And if God had not given us Sunday, we might make excuses for not thinking about Him. We might say, ' We have so much to do ; there is so much business always going on in the world, that there is no time to remember or to rest.' I think, Willie, if all persons recollect- ed tliat it was in His kindness God gave them Sunday, they would all keep it, and rest that 33 day. So they would think more about Him, learn to love Him more and more, till at last they were filled with love to Him for the good, beautiful and useful things He gives them all the other days, and for the greatest of all the gifts He has given all the world. You know what the best thing of all is, Willie ; try and tell me." " Well, mamma, if we were going to bo al- ways down here in the world, I think the best thing would be alivays to be quite well. For when I was sick with the measles, I was quite miserable, except when you sat and talked to me about God and heaven. Then, if every- body was always well they could work hard and get rich, and build beautiful houses, and ask their friends to stop vrith them. But, mamma, we are not always going to be down here. And when first nurse told me people died, oh ! 1 was frightened, I was unhappy. But the7i yoa told me all about Jesus Christ, whom God sent down to tell the people, cdl the people, how to get to lieaven. Jesus Christ is the best thing God gave us, mamma." 34 WILLIE'S REST. " And Willie would like to go to heaven," said mamma. " Oh yes, yes, mamma ! When you told me about it I watched the birds, and thought if I were a bird I would fly into heaven. But you said, " When you have pleased God long enough on earth to show you love Him, He will send for you and take you to heaven more easily than the birds fly, and you will fall asleep in Jesus and wake in heaven.' I often dream about heaven, mamma, but I can never remember my dreams about it ; they go all away when I open my eyes. But still it's all true." "Yes, Willie, true as this beautiful world. Do you know, too, that dreaming about it shows your soul is thinking of heaven ? It shows that you have a soul whenever you dream. In your sleep you lie still on your bed, your eyes are shut, your ears don't hear any sound in the quiet dark nursery. But yet, in your sleep, when you dream, are you not Willie still? Do you not dream of walking, and running, and playing, and that nurse is Willie's rest. 35 talking, or I or papa am talking? Do you not sometimes see the garden in your sleep ?" " Yes, yes, mamma, I dream all those things with my soul. I understand about my soul °I feel it. But will you, please, say some more about Sunday ?'■' " We were talking of tlie reasons for keep- ing it ; all of them such good reasons. The best reason is that we may think about God and thank Him for His good gifts and His perfect gift, which you understood. But, Willie, there are other reasons. Sunday is as good for the body as for the soul." " So you said, mamma, at first. But I did not quite understand, because I don't feel veiry tired any day ; and you said their bodies, people's bodies, I mean, were to rest on Sun- days." " You are only a happy little child, Willie, with no woi^Jc to do except trying to be good and to learn the little lessons we give you. But now, listen to this. Little children have 80 much time for play and pleasure, and their parents work for them, that tliey may grow 36 WILLIES REST. up into strong and healthy men and women, able to work too. For little children are al- ways growing, and if they were made to work too soon, or were taught too much, or liad not enough time for play, they would not grow strong, they would grow much slower, and turn into sickly miserable men and women. That is God's wise law to parents, and kind love for little children. But it is different for men and women ; they have a great deal to do always, and ought to do it well. But if they never rest their bodies, nor stop in their work, or their business, they cannot be well nor strong. But I will tell you a little story about it. You know what omnibuses are, Willie?" " Oh yes, mamma ; at grandmamma's, in London, I used to watch them out of the win- dow : long coaches, painted different colours, with names on them, and two horses — some- times three horses, mamma." "Yes, Willie. They .want very strong horses, too, to draw tliem, for they are very heavy, drawing so many people. You know where the man sits who drives, Willie ?" Willie's rest. 37 '' Yes, mamma, and the conductor at tlic other end.'' " Don't von think it must be hard work Willie, to sit on that high seat, and drive all day ? It is very difficult too." "Yes, mamma, I wondered the coachman didn't fall, and the conductor get crushed by the carts and coaches behind him, mamma." " Well, Willie, there was once a man who had a great many omnibuses belonging to him, and a great many horses to draw the omni- buses, all belonging to him too. That man did not drive himself, but he paid men to drive the omnibuses. And, Willie, that man was so anxious to get rich that he forgot all about the bodies and souls of tlie men who drove. He only thought of getting all the money he could from people who wanted to go in omnibuses, every day of the week. He made the men drive all day on Sunday, just as on the other days. I want you to under- stand, Willie, that it is cruel to prevent men who work hard for their masters, from having time to rest and think." 4 38 Willie's rest. " Yes, mamma," said Willie very eagerly, " but some people want to go about on Sun- days. You went in a carriage to see grand- mamma, when she was ill and sent for you on a Sunday. Must people walk all Sundays, even if they want to ride, and see people they love who are ill, very quickly indeed?" "I am glad you asked me that question, Willie. It is quite certain that it is right to go and see people if they are ill on Sunday, or to help any one who wants help ; and we ought to spare no trouble if we can help people on°that day. Jesus Christ himself, who, you know, is to be our example always, walked in the fields on Sunday with his disciples, and his disciples picked some of the corn which was growing in the fields, and ate it. " Then some proud naughty men, who were iii the fields too, men who loved to find fault, said to Jesus Christ, 'Thy disciples are ^ doing what is not right on the Sabbath day.' But Jesus Christ, the Master, said tliat His disci- ples were doing nothing wrong ; and He said too, that if an ox or an ass fell into a pit od Willie's rest. og the Sabbath clay, it was quite right to go and take them out, lest they should be hurt or hungry at the bottom of tlie pit. "Then the Master, Jesus Christ, liealed a man on the Sabbath day, and made him quite well, tliough he had been thirty-eio-],t years very 111 indeed. "Again, the Master, Jesus Christ, made the arm of a man which was weak, so that he could nof use It, quite strong on the Sabbath day. " It is quite riglit to use coaches and horses on Sunday, if we want, and are ohUrjed to -o anywhere very quickly. But I will tell you wliy the man who had the omnibuses was so cruel and so wrong. He had cdl the omnibuses out on Sunday, and he ought only to have had ^ few out; just enough for people who were Miged to go by them. He made all the men Irive all Sunday : now he should have let ^acli man only drive for oge journey on Sunday. >y journey, I mean from the place wliere the nimbuses start to the place wliere they stop, or they go many and many times backwards nd forwards in one day. If he had only let 40 Willie's rest. each man drive once on a Sunday, each man would have had the rest of Sunday to himself. And all omnibus owners, who are good and kind, give each driver a whole Sunday sometimes. " I will tell you what happened to this mas- ter, who was cruel and wrong in his behaviour to the men. The poor men were so tired with driving all days, and so full of trouble in their minds from having no time to rest or think, that tliey grew to care for nothing ; they only cared to drink strong burning drinks, which made them stupid ; and, at last, they drove so badly, from not knowino; what thev were doino*, that O ^ CD' people were afraid to go in the omnibuses, for fear they should be daslied against other car- riages, in the omnibuses which were so badly driven : and that you know might have hurt them very much. So the man got less and less money. Then many of his horses died because they had w^orked too hard ; for lie never gave his horses any rest any more than the men. So he had to buy new horses, and liorses cost a great deal of money, so that instead of get- ting ricli he got poorer and poorer. Perhaps, Willie's rest. 4^ when l,e was poor, I.e rcncnberod r,-l,at he had done, and thought it was a right punish- ment ; and I liopo then that he learned it was good and useful, as well as right, for men to .■est, and let all creatures that work rest, on bunday." " Yes, mamma, I hope he did. Please tell me some more." "Shall I tell you what a man made another man do, that was very wrong indeed, all tlirough not resting on Sunday? This man was a lawyer, ^-o^y I cannot tell all that a lawyer does, because you would not understand It, but I can tell you that he has a great deal to do in helping other people in their business and in telling them how to manage their money : aud he has a great deal of writing to do, and a great many books to read and re- member all through, about laws for making people behave well-which we call the laws of men, just as the commandments are the laws of God. This lawyer I am telling vou of had ^o much writing to do that he kept a man to telp him. This man was much younger than 4* 42 WILLIE S REST. he was, and, of course, looked up to him as an example, tliinking lie must know more than he did himself, because he was older and very clever too. Now this clever lawyer, like the omnibus man, wanted to get rich very fast. So he sat all day on Sunday, as well as other days, writing in his dull room, full of dull books, dull papers, and dusty boxes. He could not make the young man write too on Sunday, but he could tempt him, and did tempt him : tried to make him write too on Sunday, by saying sometimes on Saturday night, when he had more writing to do than usual, ' If you will come to-morrow, and help me all day to write, I will pay you for it, and you will get more than if you did nothing all day.' '' The money was a great temptation to the young man, and very often he came on Sunday to the dull room, sat at the dull desk on the high stool he used other days, and wrote dull copies of papers all day. " He was paid for that sad work on the day of rest ; and, I think that seeing his master Willie's rest. 43 work too all Sunday, made liini think Sunday rest did not matter ; and, besides, he got too fond of money, from being paid for that sad work on Sunday. For no good came of either the work on Sunday, or the Sunday money ; as you shall hear. From being so much in his master's room, he knew where his master kept his money. " One Sunday night, after his master had gone home and he had been sent away, lie came to the place where they wrote — which was a dull house with that dark room in it, and all the other rooms dull and empty. " The young man knew the door was locked, but he had got a key to fit it, called a false key ; and he opened the door and got into the dull room, and broke open the dusty box, and stole all the money out of it. Of course it was not all the money his master had, but still it was a great deal : not gold or silver, but bank- notes, which are worth just as much as gold and silver, and which are easier to carry about. When the young man had put the bank notes in his pocket, he ran away. 44 " Next morning his master came ; for he did not live in the dull house, except when he was writing. And he found the desk broken open and no bank-notes. The young man did not come to write that day ; so the master guessed he had stolen the notes. " Now there are figures on bank-notes, all different ; so the master sent to the people who kept the banks, and told them the figures on the bank-notes he had lost, begging the bankers not to give anybody money for the bank-notes, if they took them there to be changed. And the policemen were all told what the young man was like, and being very clever men, they found him in a few days. They found him on a steam-ship, which was just going from Liver- pool to America ; where I suppose the young man thought he should be able to spend the money. '' When he saw the policemen come on the steamer, and saw them looking at him, he knew he was found out ; and in his fright he tore all the bank-notes up, and threw them overboard, and they floated away to the sea, WILLIE'S REST. 45 of CO use to anybody. And tlie policemen took liim back to the place where the lawyer lived, and to the magistrate of the place, that he might be asked about his wickedness. The magistrate was in a large hall, and many other gentlemen were there, and among them the lawyer too. " When the magistrate asked the young man why he had stolen the money, as he had never stolen any money before, wliat do you think the young man said ? He said, and as he spoke, he looked at the lawyer's face, ' I thought that there could be no more harm in breaking the commandment, " Thou slialt not steal," than in breaking the commandment which says, " Thou shalt keep holy the Sab- bath-day, and do no work." ' " I think the lawyer must have felt wretched and wrong too, when he remembered he had lost his money, and made a young man steal , because he tuould not remember the kind, good law of the great God which says we are to rest on Sunday." " Did the lawyei remember afterwards to 46 Willie's kest. rest, mamma, to rest on Willie. '• Yes, Willie, I am glad to say he did. He did not write again on Sunday : at first it was only from fear, fear that God would be very angry with him that lie did not write. But having time to rest and think about good things, he learned at last to rest on Sunday be- cause he loved God, and His commandments. '' The young man, too, who was punished for his stealing the money, by being sent in a ship to a country far away from his home, never forgot the lesson either, and behaved well, and learned to keep God's commandments in that far country." " Tell me some more about resting, please dear mamma : about a little child this time, for you have only told me about men. Tell me a paral)le, mamma : a story with a mean- ing in it, that I may guess the meaning, like the fairy tales you tell me in week days, play- ing and working days, mamma." Willie knew that it did not tire mamma to tell stories ; she had so many in her mind al- WILLIES KEST. 47 ways. So she tlioiiglit a minute or two, and while she thought, Willie watclied a white butterfly, that was resting on a rose. " God makes a place even for tlie butterfly to rest on,'' Willie thought. "Mamma told me I must not touch a butterfly, because it was so delicate, and had such soft dust on its wings to keep it warm, that I should rub off the dust and hurt the butterfly. But the rose does not hurt the butterfly, because the rose- leaves are so soft ; so the butterfly rests on the rose. How pretty !" Then the butterfly flew away again, and Willie looked up in mamma's face again ; and mamma began a story she had thought about, with a meaning to it, for Willie to guess. " There was a child who lived in a little house just big enough for him, in a valley at the bottom of a high hill. Wild flowers grew in the valley, and there were bushes with wild fruits and berries, nice and proper to eat. But there were so many stones in the valley that no fine flowers nor fine fruit trees had room to strike their roots. 48 " And when tlie child was very little indeed, he ate tlie wild-fruits and berries, and drank tlie water from a little stream ; and then he played with the stones, and piled them up into shapes, or made garlands and nosegays of the wild-flowers all day long. " But when lie was a very little older, he be- gan to wonder why so many stones were there, and where the hill went to, that he saw go up towards the sky, from the valley where he lived. " One day he was sitting with his lap full of wild-flowers, which he was tired of playing with, and he was wondering as usual about the stones and the hill. And from the hill he saw coming towards him a grown-up man. He was frightened at first, but not when the man came near enough for the child to see his face, which was kind, and mild, and peaceful. He came quite up to the child, and then he began to speak in gentle tones, and the cliild listened to his words. •' ' There is a ricli, good, and powerful friend of yours, little child,' he said, ' and that friend Willie's rest. 49 lives in a palace with fair gardens, at the very top of the Iiill. He knows all about you : he n^ade this house for you to live in, and this valley for you to rejoice in, and work in when you are older. He watches you, though you do not know it, and cannot see him. "'If you please him after I have told you about him, if you always behave well in the valley, you will some day be allowed to enter the palace-gates, and live in his fair gardens, and see him who is the fairest of all. You cannot see him yet, while you live in the val- ley ; he will send for you to live with him when he knows it is time for you to go. " ^^But he loves you so much, that he wishes to give you something noiv, to make you happy, and to remind you of his love and care for you. And he wrote you a letter, and sent it to me to give you : for though I liave not seen lim, I often hear from him, and I live very lear the toj3 of the hill, just outside the palace rates.' ' ' But I cannot read a letter,' said the little ;hild, beginning to pick up flowers again. 5 50 Willie's rest. " ' I will read it to you, then ; and you must listen, for if you do what it says, it will be very good for you.' " So the child listened, because it was some- thing new. " ' There will always be stones in your valley, little child,' the letter began, as long as you live there, because the sides of the valley are rock, and the pieces break off whenever there is w^ind or storm, and roll down among the grass and wild plants, choking up the roots. The stones are there to remind you how much more beautiful is my palace, which is built of precious stones, like light, and hqw much more green and lovely with flowers that never die, is my glorious garden. " ' But now I am going to tell you a way to get rid of a few of those troublesome stones, just near your little house. And when you have got rid of a few stones, I will give you some grains of wdieat to sow in the cleared ground, and some seeds of flowers to make your garden pleasant when they have sprung up and blossomed. Take a basket, and fill it Willie's rest. 51 with stones, as many stones as you can carry and then set out, with your basket on your arm, up the mountain-patli which leads to my palace-gates, inside of which are my beautiful gardens. " ' The road is steep, for it is up-hill all the way. But there is on one side of the road a thick wood, which goes up the hill all the way too. Here and there, at regular distances, there are little paths which lead aside, out of the way, under the trees. At the end of each little path, in the shade of the wood, there is a deep well, full of clear fresh water. " ' Now, little child, remember not to go on straight up the hill without resting, but turn aside at every little opening in the wood, and go out of the way to find the well. Sit down by the well to rest, under the shade of the trees, which will cool you after walking up-hill in the sun ; and drink a draught of the water, which will rcfresli you far more than the stream of the valley. "' ' And remember particularly, after you have 'ested and been refreshed, to take one stone 52 Willie's best. out of your basket and drop it into the well, for the well is so deep the stone will never be found again. And when you have dropped the stone, go out of the wood, and go on up tlie hill. Only remember to stop at every opening in the wood, aud turn aside to find the well, and drop the stone therein ; and if you do so, you will find your basket empty and light by the time you reach the top of the hill. " ' Then you will see the dwelling of my messenger,' whom I send with this letter to you. It^is just outside my palace-gates, and my high palace-walls, which are so high that no one can see the palace towers, nor the tops of the trees, whose leaves never fall in my gar- den, until the gates are opened to them, and they are called to come and live with me. " * The house of my messenger stands in a garden, and his garden has fairer flowers and better corn in it, tlian all your wild-flowers and fruits, for my own gardener gave the seeds and'the corn to my. messenger, because he loved me, and promised that he would come and giv^ my letter to you, little child. , i 1 Willie's best. 53 " ' It was because he loved me that I called him to live so near my palace-gates, and gave him seeds 2p:l grains of tlie fairest flowers, and the whitest wheat, to sow in his garden, and to give to little children who follow my com- mands. When you arrive at the house of my messenger, knock at the door, and he will open it ; and if your basket is empty, he will fill it with seeds of sweeter flowers than you have ever made garlands of in the valley, and grains of white wheat such as you have never rubbed from the ear. Then you will return happily down the hill, so easy to go doiun ; and you will be able to sow the seeds and the wheat in the space from which you have taken the stones ; and they will spring up to nourish you, and to give you much pleasure.' "'Now,' said the messenger to the little child, ' Will you really carry the basket of stones, and turn aside at every opening, to throw one stone into the water, and rest beside the well ?' " ' Why cannot I turn the stones out all at )nce?' asked the ch'ild, ' it would be much eas|£r.' 5* 54 / / - " * All the stones would trouble the water of one well,' said the messenger. ' That is why it is so wise of your kind Friend to tell you only to drop one stone into each well. If you do not take the basket empty, I can give you no seeds. For if you do not shew that you love your Friend enough to obey him in such a little thing, which is so good for you besides, you must know he will not give you either the great things which shew His love. And if you shew your little love to him, you will know some day with wliat a great love he has loved^ you. Wij4 you really obey him, little child, in this kind 'wish for your good ?' " Now, as it was something new, the child thought he would try. I am afraid he did not tliink much about the love of his wonderful Friend. " ' It is a very easy thing to do,' said the child to the messenger, ' I will set out to-mor- row ; then I shall have finished this garland I am making.' " ' Better to go to-day than to-morrow,' said the messenger ; ' but better to-morrow than 55 not at all. So, little child, I sliall expect to see you at my house, and I hope your basket will be empty.' " Then the messenger went back up the hill to his house near the palace of his and the child's great Friend. " Next mornino: the child arose, and took a basket that was in his cottage, and filled it with stones, and then slung the basket on his arm, and set out on his journey up the hill. The way was steep, but smooth, and on each side were bright stones, quite different from those in the basket : stones clear as crystal, which reflected the sun's light in every colour of the sun and rainbow. " The child picked up one of the bright stones and looked at i^ admiring it very much ; and while he was looking at it, he came to the first opening in the wood. Being quite a new thing, he remembered it, and threw the bright stone away, and turned aside under the trees, till he came to the well, which was indeed clear, and deep, and cool. " He dropped the stone in, and it fell quite 56 Willie's rest. out of sight ; and then he dipped his hand into the well, and took up some water in its hol- low, and the water refreshed him as no other water had ever refreshed him before. And he rested a little while by the well. " Then he took up the basket, and, feeling strengthened and revived, he went out of the wood, and proceeded up the steep path of the liill. " But before he reached the opening which led to the next well, he had picked up another bright stone, and thought it even prettier than the first. And he did not want to throw the bright stone away, so he just ran aside, and threw another stone out of the basket into the well ; but he put the bright stone into the bas- ket instead, so that it was just as lieavy ; and by the time he reached the third opening, he thought it a great trouble to go aside at all. " ' If I do find the basket heavy,' he said, ' it is my business, and this turning aside is very troublesome ; so is sitting down beside the well, it only takes up ray time ; I should be much quicker if I went straight on : and I Willie's rest. 57 can turn all the stones out at the top of the hill togetLer.' " But he did not get on faster, because the basket was so heavy ; and he stayed so long to play with the bright stones, and not liking to throw them away, he piled as many as he could on the top of the other stones in his basket, so that it grew heavier and heavier. And when he reached the top of tlie hill, and saw the house of the messenger, close to those high walls over which no eye could see (until the opening of the gate), then he stood still to admire the lovely flowers which grew in the garden of the messenger, and the beautiful golden corn, waving in his field. " And the child in great haste opened the garden gate, and walking up to the house, knocked at the door. " * Open quickly,' said the child, ' for I did not know how fair were the flowers till I saw them, or how beautiful was the golden corn.' " And the messenger opened the door. Then said the child, ' I have come for my flower- seeds, and the grains of white wheat.' 58 Willie's rest. " But the messenger shook liis head. ' They are not for you, they cannot be for you, lit- tle child. The basket is piled up, full : not only with the heavy stones of the valley, but with the bright stones of the hill.' " ' Oh, but I can empty it,' said the thought- less child, and ran out of the garden to the top of the hill, turning out the basket there. But the stones all rolled down the smooth hill again into the valley ! " ' There,' said the messenger, ' the stones will choke up the space again from which you took them, and there will be no room to plant either seeds or grains of wheat. And as for tlie bright stones, it was wrong of you to carry them in your basket ; they are put there to make the way up-hill look pleasant : my Mas- ter, your kind friend, put them tliere, but you ought not to have taken tliem away. You were told only to bring the stones of the valley in your basket.' " ' Will you give me no seeds, no wheat, though I have come all the way ?' asked the child, feeling angry. 69 " ' I can only give tliem to those who love the great Friend, my Master, and shew their love in obeying his kind commands," said tlie messenger. I am very sorry, but I must do as he has told me, for he is always right.' ^•' Then the messenger shut tlie door ; and in vain the child knocked, in vain he cried ; no messenger returned to open the door. And the child had to go back wearily, wearily, with the empty basket on his arm, because he had not obeyed the commands in the letter, those easy commands of the rich and kind Friend, who, because he had not obeyed them, had, through his messenger, sent him empty away.*' " Is that all, mamma ?" asked Willie, for mamma's voice stopped. " Oh, did the child never dro-p the stones right after all ?" " I^ he did, Willie, he must have been very tired with his double journey — as people are tired tvho begin late to love God. But do you understand my little story, Willie ?" " I think I do, mamma. At least, I think the turnings in the road leading to the well, mean Sundays, because he was to rest by the 60 Willie's rest. well a little. But the water he drank, mamma, and the stones, what were they ?" " There is a text, Willie, in which Christ himself says, ' The water which I shall give you, will be in you a well of water springing up into everlasting life.' There is a meaning to those words. They mean, tliat the love of God, given to ns through Christ's love, is deep and pure, and refreshing, as the wells of clear water. It refreshes the souls of those who go to seek it where it may be found, and surely it is to be found on Sundays, our times of rest. " The stones are troubles, or cares, Willie. We may all get rid of the trouble nearest to us, or the care which makes us most afraid, on Sunday, may we not ? We need not think of them, we mav forsiet them alto^'etlier. And so we shall lose them in the deep water of that well of love, just as the stone dropped out of sight, and made tlie basket lighter. " As for the bright stones which adorn the road, they are pleasures given by God to make our way of life pleasant ; but if we hold them too tiglit. they become a burden to us, just as thev made the child's basket heavier. Willie's kest. 61 '' As for the seeds of tlic fiiir flowers, and the grains of wheat, I dare say you can under- stand that I meant the heavenly blessings, so much more delightful than all their earthly pleasures to the souls of those wlio love God, and ash for them, keeping His commandments also, to show their love." " Yes, mamma, and I think the messenger means the clergyman, because he lived so near the palace. You said church was near to heaven, mamma, because it is made to think about God in. Then he brought a letter to the little child, from the great Friend v/hom the child could not see till he died. And he read the letter to the child, as the clergyman preaches to us." ' A very good meaning, Willie." ' And the high wall shut out the towers, I mean you could not see them : and you could not see the trees over the wall, nor the leaves which never faded. That must be heaven, namma, for we cannot see it till we die. " But oh ! mamma, I hope the child dropped he stones right after all. I hope he kept 6 .62 WILLIE'S REST. Sundays a whole year, mamma, afterwards ; for I think it meant he was a whole year spending Sundays without rest ; because he had to go had: : and you told me we went hack if we were not good, that we did not stand still. But please to tell me a good parable ; that is so sad a one. T wish I miglit hoar one about a child who kept Sundays well." Mamma thought a few minutes, and tlien she went on, saying, " There was a little child, wliose parents gave him everything he could desire. The house in which he lived was beautifully fur- nished, containing many rooms wliich were filled with pictures and books, and curiosities from many countries. Everything wanted for use or ornament was to be found in the house, besides many toys for the child's amusement. There were also plenty of dresses for it to wear, dresses for summer and for winter ; and there were servants to wait on it and prepare its meals, and masters to teach it all that a child is able to learn. Round the house was a garden full of flowers, fruits and fountains,] Willie's rest. g3 groves and arbours ; and many otlicr little children lived in houses near, and came to play with this child as often as he pleased ; go that he had nothing left to wish for. " And when his parents had shown him all the things they had provided for him, they said to him, ' Now we are going to tell you what you nmst do, in order to preserve these bless- ings, and gain greater ones when you die/ " So they led the little child upstairs, to a small chamber at the top of the house. There was no furniture in it ; but there was a bird- cage hanging in the window, and the window was very large, looking over the gardens to the east, where the sun rose. In the cage was a white bird, with very soft eyes, whose ex- pression was half sad, half sweet. There was no seed in the cage, and no glass of water. Why," said the little child, looking at the bird through the wires, which were made of iron, and very strong, ' what does the bird live 3n ? for I see neither seed nor water, nor green ;hick-weed, such as other birds like to eat.' " ' This bird is not like other birds/ said his 64 Willie's best. father ; ' it is a rare bird from a far couutry. It is sad in its cage, yet cannot get out unless the door is opened, for you see how strong are the wires. Its only food is the dew which falls early in the morning, just l)efore the sun rises ; the food of other birds would poison it, it is so very delicate. And it belongs entirely to you ; you are to take care of it, and see that it is fed.' " ' How, then ?' asked the child : ' I cannot catcii the dew in the bottle ; it falls too softly to be seen, xlnd there is no dew now, because it is afternoon.' " ' Not now/ said the child's mother, ' but to-morrow morning there will be dew. You must come upstairs into this chamber every morning, and first open the window wide, and then the door of the cage. The bird will fly out gladly, far up into the sky towards the east, and will open its bill wide to catch the dew. " ' And lest it should fly too .far, or stay out of the cage too long, and be too tired to , fly back again, you must keep your eyes fixed, on it for one liour, that is from the first drop- Willie's lest. 65 ping of the dew till the rising of the sun. When the sun rises, you must call it back, by singing a few notes which we will teach you. And wlien it has returned to its cage, refresh- ed, you must shut the door ; and then your task will be ended.' " Then the child's father spoke again. * If you do this thing every day, exactly as we have told you, we shall continue to love you and make your life pleasant. And the bird so much belongs to you, and to you only, that as long as you are careful to open its door in the morning, and to watch for its return, it will be refreslied and able to sing its low, sweet songs all day ; and you will be well and happy, your lessons will be easy to you, your plays pleasant, your sleep peaceful, and your dreams of great delight.' " ' But,' said his mother again, ' if you forget to open the door of the cage any one morning, the bird, for want of its delicate food, the dew, will droop and leave off singing. Then will you be no longer well, nor happy. Your lessons will be labour, your plays trouble, your 6* Q6 WILLIE'S REST. sleep restless, and your dreams of great dark- ness.' " ' I will try/ said the child, ' never to for- get what I have to do. I should be very sorry indeed to lose the bird, for it is white as a dove, and its eyes are very soft, though they are rather sad : I suppose because it is not in its own land.' " ' Some day it will return to its own land,' said the child's parents both at once. ' And that is not a greater wonder than that you shall return to God when you die ; and all children also.' " ' We shall go to heaven then, if we are good,' said the child. ' This bird also is a bird of heaven ?' said his parents. " The next morning he was up very early, and dressed himself quickly, to be in time for the dew before sunrise. He ran upstairs to the little chamber, and opened the window wide. Then he opened the cage door, and out the white bird flew, with a joyous song, far up the blue sky toward the east. Then the child leaned out of the window, and fixed his eyes Willie's rest. 67 upon the bird till he could see it no more ; still keeping his eyes on the spot in the blue sky where lie saw it last. " He waited very patiently until the sun rose, and then he sang a few notes himself, which his father and mother had taught him the night before. Back came the bird, singing as he flew, with the light of the rising sun npon liis breast ; and, refreshed with the draughts of dew he had drunk, he returned gratefully to his cage. The child closed the door, and heard the bird singing, as he went downstairs to breakfast. " The child did so for many days, and all went well with him. At last his little friends found out about the bird, and that he let it out of the cage every morning. " ' How tiresome,' said one of them, ' to get up so early ! My parents gave me a bird, too, and told me to feed it ; but I can't always get up so early, and so I give it some common water in a bottle.' " ' But does it drink the common water ?' asked the child.' " * I don't think it likes it/ said the other, ' I have never seen it drink anything. It never sings unless I am up early enougli to let it fly out of the cage and drink the dew. It is a very dull bird, mine ; it always mopes. Sometimes I remember it, sometimes I forget it, just as it happens.' " ' That is just like me with my bird,' said another child ; ' I don't care about it, and I often forget to let it out. It is a dull bird, too, mine. I think it unkind of our parents to give us such a thing to do.' " ' Oil,' said the child who cared for his bird every morning, ' how sad it makes me to hear you say so. Our parents unkind to give us such a gentle white bird each, and such a little trouble to take for it, when they give us every pleasure we have besides? Now I know the reason you are both cross sometimes, that you are idle at your lessons, and do not care for play, and that you have the evil dreams you told me of. I hope I sliall never, never forget my bird ; for while I remember to let it out every morning for its draught of dew, it is well with me, and I am happy.' Willie's rest. 69 ''And never did the child forget the bird, which loved him much, and sang him songs whenever he liked to hear them. Some morn- ings, it is true, the child was tired, and would have liked to sleep longer ; but he always said to himself, ' My parents give me everything ; shall I not do this little thing to please them ? The bird is thirsty, and if he drinks the dew he will bring to me also a blessing.' " Sometimes, w^hile he was fixing his eyes on the sky to which the bird had flown, they were dazzled with the light of the sunrise so near at liand. " ' I wonder,' he thought one morning, ' where the land of the bird is ; it must be very far above the clouds. I wish I could see where he flies to ; but the light dazzles my eyes, and I cannot look beyond it. Oh, that mine eyes were strong enough to see the light which gives light unto the sun !' " And when the bird returned, it sang to the child the sweetest song it had yet sung ; a mu- sic which sounded at once soft and cheerful, as much as to siv, 70 WILLIE'S KEST. "'The land is very far off; Lut see how high I flew towards the light : so shalt thou fly to the land of light one day.' " And the child remembered that his parents had said the bird belonged to him, and to him only, and was glad. '"I wish,' he often said, 'that ray little friends loved their birds as well.' " Day after day he loved the bird better than ever. Soon, not only in the morning he went up stairs, but often in the hot hours of the after- noon, and the cool hours of tlie evening, stand- ing before the cage, and looking through the wires at it, and listening to its songs, which grew sweeter and softer every day ; for never,' never once, did the child forget to open the cage door in the morning. '' But the child's body was growing weak ; and soon, very soon, he was too weary to climb up stairs. So he left his toys, his feasts, and friends ; and stayed all day in the little cham- ber at the top of the house, whose window looked to the east, where the sun rose always. And the bird seemed weary too ; it drooped WILLIE'S REST. 71 its wings, and sat always with its soft eyes fixed upon the cliild. '• And the soft eyes of the cliild grew more and more like the soft eyes of the bird ; and more and more like the bird's white breast grew the pale face of the child. Still the bird sang, in softer and softer tones ; for, weak as the child was, he never forgot to open the door of the cage in the morning, and to let the bird out ; and weary as he was, he never forgot to watch for the bird's return. " One morning the child was so weary that he could scarcely stand, and his arm was so weak that he could not unfasten the door of the cage. He lay upon the ground and wept, because he could not let the bird out. But, strange and holy wonder ! The bird sat still on its perch, singing louder and louder. " And all at once, through the open window, open towards the east, there blew from the east a mighty wind, a cold strong wind ; and that wind dried the tears on the child's face, and his eyes shut softly — he was asleep. And the cold, strong wind rent asunder, broke ut- 72 ■ Willie's rest. terly, tlie bars of tlie cage. Then the bird flew out. Was it a bird now ? Oh no, it was larger and fairer, its wings grew larger and whiter, its white breast grew brighter, and seemed a robe of light. " Its countenance changed, and was like the face of the child ; only the child was asleep and pale, and it was awake and bright, with its eyes fixed on the east, where the sun was going to rise. It was the child's angel, no longer a bird in a cage. " By-and-by the other children came to look for the child. Finding him asleep, so that they could not wake him, they carried liim softly in their arms, and laid him to rest under- neath the snow-drops. But they saw no bird in the room, and the bars of the cage were broken. " For the angel of tlie child, wliich in its Uight belonged to him for ever, now no longer a bird in a cage, had flown beyond the gates of morning, above the droppings of the dew, to the light which lights the sun, and lights all things." Willie's rest. 73 '^ That is a prettier story than the other/' .jQ WILLIE'S RKST. Stand what tliey said, because mamma had spared him the whole afternoon in talking about what he could understand. After tea, mamma and papa went to church ao-ain ; but not Willie, who was too young to he able to sit still, and keep awake so late. He watched them out of the window as far as he could see, in the soft light which came after sunset, and listened to the distant ringing of the bells, for a few moments. Then he re- membered mamma had said he was to go to bed whd she and his papa were gone ; and l-.c went upstairs in the nursery to be un- dressed. After nurse had put him to bed, having heard his prayers and kissed him, he turned round on his pillow just before he fell asleep, and said, "Nurse, I mean to call Sunday ' Willie's rest.' " " A very good name, too. Master Willie, answered nui^se, " and that is keeping the com- mandment the right way." THE END. WILLIE'S BIRTHDAY. WILLIE'S BIRTHDAY. i AMMA," said Willie one morning, " what day of the month is this ? " Willie could speak now, quite plainly. " The tenth of June," replied mamma ; " but why do you ask, Willie ? " " Because I have been counting on my fingers, and, if to-day is the tenth of June, I shall be five years old in one week ; for a week has seven days, and I was born on the seventeenth of June, you said." " Indeed you were, Willie ; I remember that well." " Now you know, mamma, I have never kept my birthday." (79) 80 Willie's bikthday. " Never kept your birthday, tiny man ? Why, you always had a large cake and two bottles of sweet wine, to feast with nurse, and l)aby, when he came." " Ah ! but last year, mamma, don't you remember I had the measles, and was very miserable in bed. You brought me up the cake, to see it cut on the bed, but I could not look at it, everything hurt my eyes so. And I could not eat even the least little crumb ; the servants had it all, and drank all the wine. The year before that — I was very young indeed then, only three — I was at grandmamma's, and you know, dear mamma, grandmamma won't have a noise, though she is very kind, and I was obliged to sit still all day. She gave me a glass of wine, I recollect, after dinner, and it made me so stupid that I went to sleep in my chair. I didn't enjoy the day I was there one bit. And as for the day I was two, I was such a baby, that I can't remember anything that happened. And I dare say, mamma, you have even forgotten the day I was one." " No indeed, Willie, I remember it quite well ! " Willie's birthday. 81 " Now you know, mamma, the time I was three, after my birthday, we went to see the sea. And papa told me a- story about Johnny's dog, Mop. And papa promised — yes, promised, mamma — that he would get me a dog when I was five. So, has he remembered the dog? because I am five, all but seven days." " I am quite sure lie has, if he promised ; for he never breaks liis word. But you must wait and have patience, and you will know." " Mamma, I have never done as I liked in my life. You say little boys must not, because they cannot possibly know how much food, or play, or walking out, is good for them. But it could not hurt a boy to do as he liked, only for one day in the year. Herbert Hall never does as he likes generally, for he goes to school, though he is only six ; but always on his birth- day he goes home, and does as he pleases all day. I wish I might, mamma ! " Here Willie sighed very deeply, and looked up very seriously in his mamma's face. 82 Willie's birthdaf. " What do you mean by his doing as he pleases, Willie ? T must kuo\y that." " First of all, mamma, he gets up as early as he likes. You know, very often these light mornings I wake long before nurse, and I lie longing and longing to get up ; only I dare not, because you said she worked hard for us all day, and wanted a long rest at night. So Herbert gets up as soon as he pleases, and he chooses what he likes for breakfast, and does what he likes afterwards till dinner, and chooses his dinner, and chooses the boys lie will have to tea, and chooses and leads all the games while they are there, and of course chooses supper, and goes to bed as late as he pleases. And, mamma, he chooses liis own present." " And would it please you, Willie, to do the same ? " "Yes, mamma, that it would. You know, mamma, I never do exactly as I like." "No, my dear Willie, no more do I, no more does anybody in the world. At least, when persons — and there are some who will Willie's birthday. 83 —do exactly as they please, they soon get sick of it, and terribly selfish." " Of course, nianima ; but not for one day, once a-year. I'm sure it would not make me selfish, and I'm certain /should not be sick." " Fer])ort does not look a happier boy than you do, Willie." "No, mamma; but Herbert has a bad temper, I tliink." Perhaps his bad temper came from being tired of everything before he went to schooh His mamma and papa are in India, you know, and his aunt took care of him her J; and she was so anxious to be very kind to him, that perhaps she was too kind. For he became so tired, and troublesome, and idle, that she was obliged to send him to school." " But, mamma, will you let me do as I like this one birthday ? And if I am selfish or sick, then you needn't let me do as I like next birthday. Do let me, mamma." " I must ask papa about that. And as for the present, Willie, don't you'want the dog? you have talked about it a long time." 84 Willie's birthday. " Yes, mamma, I want the dog, but you always give me a present too." " What do you wish to have besides ? you have all sorts of toys." " No toy, mamma. I want a jacket and trousers, and boy's real boots, and a collar. I do not like to wear frocks, and frills, and short sleeves, and shoes with strap, mamma. And I really am too old." " A great many presents in one, Willie ! But about them, and about all the other (juestions, I must ask papa." Mamma asked papa that night, when he came home : and papa said — -Yes. What a wonderful thing ! Willie thought — "' Yes," to ;ill the questions. Willie had been afraid lie would say " No," particularly about the party to tea. For papa was very careful what little boys played with Willie. Yet he said " Yes" to all. The sun rose very bright on Willie's birth- day, and very early too. At four o'clock V/illie was awake, and rose up, because he was to do exactly as he liked. Baby was still fast Willie's birthday. 85 asleep in nurse's bed ; but nurse rose up to dress Willie. She looked very sleepy, and rubbed her eyes. " Your mamma told me, Master Willie, that you were to do as you liked to-day. Now I will give you one piece of advice, and if you don't follow it, I shall give you no more advice to-day. You will not get any breakfast for a long time, because the other servants will not be up ; they have other business besides wait- ing on you. If you were a wise boy, vou would lie down again ; and if I drew the cur- tains quite close round your crib, you would not see the light so much, and might fall asleep ; for I think it very likely you will be too tired to play in a few hours, getting up so soon." But Willie was not a wise boy, and would not try to go to sleep again. He felt quite strong then, because he had just woke up; and he was very anxious to see his new clothes. Xurse took them out of a box in the nursery, and brought them into the bed-room. They were fine and neat indeed— splendid, Willie 8 bb WILLIE S BIRTHDAY. thought. Nurse put on him a white waistcoat, and a blue jacket, and nankeen trousers ; she pulled up his collar,and pulled down his wrist- bands, and buttoned his leather boots, and gave him a beaver hat. Nurse smiled when she had dressed him ; but she did not look pleased, Willie thought. She was smiling at the vain face Willie looked at himself with in the glass. Now Willie did not feel com- fortable at all, but stiff, and hard, and fastened up too tight. " Pride feels no pain," said nurse, as Willie went out at the door. Then, at the bottom of the stairs, Willie call to her again to come and unbar the garden door for him. Down nurse went, and when she liad seen Willie run across the lawn, she went upstairs again into the bed-room, and fell asleep once more by baby's side, till six o'clock. Willie ran across the lawn while nurse was looking ; but when she had gone away, he left off running, and was glad to walk instead, for the strong tight boots hurt his feet as he ran ; not because they were too small, but because 87 lie had never worn anything but soit shoes, or, in the damp, nice little overalls, almost as soft thelnselves. Tight did his jacket feel, particu- larly about the arms, and tighter his waist- coat ; and the stiff edge of his collar scraped his neck ; and, above all, how hot did the new hat make his head that hot June morning, and how warm were the long cloth sleeves. But, as nurse said, " Pride feelc no pain," and Willie would not have confessed to anybody how un- comfortably he felt the first thing on his birth- day. If he had been comfortable in his clothes he could have enjoyed himself very happily in the garden : for he had a garden of his own. But after he had carried one watering-pot full of water from the pump to his own flower bed, and watered the seeds just springing, he was too tired to rake or dig, even if he had not been afraid to dirty his new dress. It was not only the stiff new dress that tired liim ; it was being up so very, very early : be- sides, he was always used to have his breakfast directly he was dressed and had said his pray- ers ; and now, as nurse had said, he could not 88 Willie's birthday. get any till seven o'clock — more than two hours to come. There was plenty of fruit, but it was not ripe ; the gooseberries had all been gathered for pies, and there were currants and raspberries and strawberries, all green just tinged with red. On other days Willie knew he was not to gather fruit for himself, but as he was to do as he pleased this day, he pluck- ed a bunch of currants and tasted them. Oh, how sour ! and what an ugly twisted face Willie made over them : so he threw the rest away, and walked down to the bottom of the garden. There was a large field beyond the kitchen- garden, which belonged to Willie's papa. TJie hay had been cut, and that morning was to be turned about in the sun ; but the men had not come yet, for it was at five o'clock they came ; so Willie walked across the field, getting more and more hungry every moment. At the bot- tom of that field was another, which did not belong to his papa. But his papa knew the gentleman to whom it belonged, and Willie had often played there. There were cows in Willie's birthuay. 89 it, and a little cottage where the cow-keeper and his wife lived. While Willie was looking, the cow-keeper's wife came out to milk the cows, with two pails, one in each hand. Wil- lie got over the stile and ran up to her. " What droll little figure of a manikin is that ?" she cried. " Husband, come out and look at this funny little doll? Why it must be Tom Thumb* himself, and I must look out and take care the cows don't snap him up with the buttercups." Oh ! how vexed did little Willie feel, when the cow-keeper came out, and he and his wife both stood and laughed at Willie ; for they knew Willie in his frocks — he had often been to see them with nurse — but they did not know him in his grown boy's dress. He turned his back, and was going away, when the wind blew off his hat. Then the cow-keeper's wife knew him by his yellow hair. " Come back! come back!" she cried. "It's Master Willie ; what does he out by himself so early, dressed up like a monkey on a barrel- organ ?" 8* 90 Willie's birthday. " I'm not like a monkey," said Willie, very- loud ; " monkeys always wear cocked hats." " Never mind !" said the cow-keeper's wife, " don't vex your little heart, but sit down and tell me all about it." " It's my birthday," said Willie, " and I am to do just as I like. But I cannot do as I like, for I should like to have my breakfast, and the servants are not up. I am to have cliocolate and ham for breakfast, by-and-by, and three eggs." " Well, monkey or no monkey, it's very hard to be hungry and not able to eat," said the cow-keeper's wife. '* If you like to have a basin of milk, you shall directly I have milked it ; and a bit of brown bread, too, just warm from the oven." Very nice, indeed, her words sounded to Willie ; so he carried one of the stools out of the cottage, and sat upon it while the cow was milked. Then he had what the cow-keeper's wife called his first breakfast, warm bread and warm milk ; and when he had finished, he felt as if he should never want breakfast again. By that time the haymakers had come into 91 his papla's field It was the first time they had turned the cut grass, which smelt sweeter than flowers almost, in the morning sun. Willie wanted to make hay directly, and ran into the field. One of the men was so good as to lend Willie his fork, and Willie tried to use it, but it was so long and heavy he was obliged to throw it down; besides, working in his jacket was very warm work indeed. Then he went back into the garden, and there, between two trees, was a very delightful ■swing, with four ropes and a green seat. Papa always gave his little sons a swing when he came home, those summer evenings ; but papa would not let them swing themselves^ lest they might hurt themselves in their play. But on Willie's birthday, was he not to do as he liked ? ■And Willie called to the gardener, who was just beginning to dig, ' " Come and swing me, Webb, for I am to do as I like to-day, and papa is not down yet." " Anything you like, Master Willie, and ."welcome ; but /am not to do as you like, so please to let me go on with my work." 92 Willie's birthday. "Then," thought Willie, ''I'll swing my- self." So Willie, by trying very hard, managed to climb into the swing ; but try as hard as ever he could, he could only make the swing move a little — very little — backwards and for- wards. He was just going to climb down again, when papa, who had just left his dress- ing-room, came out into the garden. " Papa, papa !" cried Willie, " please to come and swing me as long as ever I like." Papa was so kind as to come directly, and he swung Willie one hundred times backwards and forwards. Still Willie wished to swing more. Papa swung Willie three hundred and four hundred times. I should think papa was tired. But Willie said, " Five hundred times, papa !" And papa went on swinging higher and higher ; and just when he was very near five hundred, Willie left off counting, and turned very pale, and screamed, " Papa, papa I I'm ill, I'm very ill, and I do believe I am going to be sick !" And before papa could stop the swing — shocking and unpolite to say — Willie was sick ; Willie's birthday. 93 for going backwards and forwards, up and down, will make anybody ^sick after having had a great deal of rich new milk, early in the morning. How ashamed, as well as ill, did Willie feel when papa lifted him out of the swing and carried him home. • Sick still, for he felt as if he were still swinging ; and ashamed more, because he had made himself sick by doing as he liked after his first break- fast. For I can tell you that, instead of seem- ing nice, the smell of the warm ham, just brought up to table, made him still more sick ; and as to the three eggs which had been boiled, he felt just as if he should never w^sh for one egg again. Mamma put him on the sofa in the drawing-room, while she and papa were at breakfast, and soon he felt better. And when breakfast was over, all Willie's kind friends brought him his birthday presents. He had on his mamma's present, for that, you remember was his new suit of clothes, of which he was already tired. But there was dear baby's present ; for baby was two years old now, and he held out a soft ball to Willie 94 Willie's birthday. in his pretty hand. And nurse gave Willie a nice little rake, just what Willie had wanted to turn the hay with. Then papa brought Willie a funny basket, and told him to open it : and a noble dog jumped out, a dog with curly coat and kind brown eyes, and long silky ears. This good dog licked Willie's hand directly, and wagged his tail ; and Willie was pleased and said, " It's a prettier dog than Mop, Johnny's Mop in the story." But then, oh then, mamma pulled a cloth off something very large, which the housemaid and nurse had carried in to- gether. And that was a fine rocking-horse, a present from grandmamma. When Willie saw the rocking-horse, he forgot all about the poor good dog, who stood wagging his tail so kindly, and said, " Nurse, nurse ! lift me on the horse, and I will ride as long as ever I like." Nurse lifted Willie on the horse ; but directly the horse began to rock gently backwards and for- wards, Willie remembered that the swing also moved backwards and forwards. That fright- ened him, for he thought he might be sick WILLIE'S BIRTHDAY. 95 again ; so he said, " Nurse, lift me off, please, and let baby have a ride." Nurse nodded her head and looked very wise, as if she thought, "That is not all kindness for the baby ; it is Master Willie's kindness for himself too." But she did not say so ; she lifted Willie off and held baby on. " Oh, mamma !" said Willie, and he sighed very deeply, "don't you think it is a great pity we can only do one thing we like at a time, and only for a little time, too ?" " How many things do you want to do at once, Willie ?" " To ride, mamma, and to play at ball with baby, and sit on your. lap and hear stories, and to look at all the big pictures of animals of which papa only shows us one at a time, and to go and ride on papa's horse with him all the way to London. And I want to go into the kitchen and see cook make the pie, and the custards, and the gooseberry cream. And I want to make hay with my new rake, for it is so light it will never make me tired. So whicn shalJ I do mamma?" 96 Willie's birthday. . " All ! Willie, I cannot tell you ; you must tell yourself to-day." " Then, mamma, I'll do a little bit of all." But, remembering what happened to him about " backwards and forwards," Willie did not have, then, any more riding on the rocking- horse. Had he forgotten all about the poor good dog, that he did not want to play with him ? Not exactly ; but I must confess he thought much less of the dog with his curly coat and kind eyes, than of the rocking-horse with its bright green rockers and make-believe flowing tail. And, as nurse said, for she was very fond of short sayings, ' ' Out of sight, out of mind ;" for the dog had gone into the stable to have his breakfast, and see his new house, the kennel, and Willie thought it too much trouble to go after him. " For," thought Wil- lie, " I shall want the dog much more on the days when I shall not be allowed to do as I like." So Willie played at ball with baby first ; but not long, for soon papa's horse was brought to the door of the house, and Willie threw down Willie's jjirtiiday. 97 the ball and ran into tlie breakfast-room, cry- ing, " Papa, I want to ride on your horse a little way to London." Papa was so kind as to lift Willie on alone, and hold him there, while he walked himself. Only to the garden- gate though, "For," said papa, " how would you get back alone, Willie, if I took you any farther? for you do not go along this road with nurse, because there are houses, and it is better for you to be in the fields." So Willie was put down again, and papa kissed his hand, and galloped off to London. Then Willie went to mamma, who was in the dining-room. •' Mamma, I want to sit on your lap now, and he.ar stories." " I will tell you a short story, Willie, but I cannot spare the time for many, I have so many things to do." Mamma told him a little story, but just as she got to an interesting place the cook came in and interrupted mamma to ask her what meat she wanted for dinner, because the butcher had come. Now Willie had no patience to wait till 9 98 Willie's birthday. mamma had settled, so he ran into papa's room, full of books, where the big pictures were kept. Willie had never touched them on tlie shelf before, where thc}^ were kept in a portfolio ; but now he pulled down the port- folio, and strewed all the pictures on the jfloor. They were so large that they quite covered the carpet. Willie looked for the big lion he liked so much, and then for the bigger buifalo, and then the biggest of all, the elephant. Then — can you believe it ? — he was tired ! The lion didn't roar, and the buffalo didn't bellow, and the elephant did not take up the little baby in the picture on the grass, w^ith his tinmk. And yet, when papa showed the pictures, they seemed to do all these things really, because papa described them in such delightful stories. Then Willie heard cook beating up the eggs for the custards, and he ran down stairs into the kitchen. Cooks do not like to be observed while they are making nice things, and now cook was making a great many nice things for« dinner, and for Willie's birthday supper. She Willie's birthday. 99 was very red indeed, for there was a big fire and she was very busy. Willie was frightened to stop there, for when he came to the table and said, " May I see you make custards ? and may I taste tlie eggs before you put them in — all that nice yellow froth ?" cook did not answer, but frowned, and beat the eggs harder, so that the yellow froth splashed a few spots over Willie's blue jacket. Then Willie ran into the pantry, for he knew cook was too busy to follow him. On one table there were tarts upon a dish, little tarts with crossbars over them, and Willie ate one very fast. In another dish there were jellies, and Willie took one large spoonful. In another dish there were large strawberries, but only a few, because very few were ripe yet. And Willie ate six of the largest. On a very big dish was the birthday cake covered with sugar, and in the middle of the cake were three beautiful flags, all waving together — the English flag, the French flag, and the Sardinian flag. What did Willie do? He tried first to pick a piece of sugar off the cake, 100 but it was too hard and smooth ; so he touched the flags in the middle, and as the cake was on -Ji. shelf rather taller than Willie, he had to stretch his arm very much to get at it. Now the flagstaff's were made of thin wood, and as he pulled the English flag, which was furthest from him, the staff broke, and the flag fell flat on the cake. " Oh, dear ! what shall I do ?" thought Willie ; and he began to cry, though he soon left off, for fear cook should hear him. " It is my own cake, after all," he thought, " only it spoils the middle so much to be without this flag — the English flag, too. Ah! but then," Willie went on thinking, " I wanted to have the English flag myself a^ supper, and perhaps mamma would have given it to somebody else. So I shall put it into my pocket, and not tell mamma till to-morrow, for then all the boys will be gone and she will let me keep it." So he stuffed tlie flag into his pocket, and looked all round the pantry again. There was a great basket of gooseberries for tl\e goosebeiry cream ; and Willie tasted i WILLIES BIRTHDAY. 101 one, of course, but only one, because they were sour without sugar. But there was a quantity of sugar ready pounded to mix with them, anr». I am afraid to say how much Willie ate of that, lielping himself with his fingers. But where was the cream ? In a big bowl on the highest shelf of all, higher than the cake ; and, unfortunately, there was a stool in the pantry, which cook used to stand on that she might reach the preserves on the highest shelf. Up on that stool stood Willie ; but even then he could only touch the side of the bowl. Alas ! there was a little cream on the edge of the bowl which made it slippery, and as Willie stood on tiptoe to dip his finger in the cream (a very shocking trick that), down came the bowl with a great crash, and was broken all to pieces ; and, worse than that, all the cream was spilled, and lay in a great white puddle upon the floor. Willie was afraid that cook would hear the great crash, and run into the pantry ; so he ran out as fast as ever he could in his stiff 9^ 102 new boots, and upstairs into the garden. As Willie ran up, the cat ran down, and it was more than you could expect of a cat that she would not eat cream spilled ready for her. Now^ cook had not heard the great crash, for she was beating the pastry witli the rolling- pin, which made a great noise too ; so puss had time to eat all the cream and run away, before cook came to fetch the cream, and found it no more there, only the bits of the broken bowl. Cook was very angry. '^ Thief, thief ! unpardonable cat !" she cried. " To choose the cream on the top shelf, when there are so many pans of milk on the lowest shelf. You that I brought up from a kitten, — ^you that I thought to be an honest cat, who would take nothing without leave ! A fine whipping you shall have when I see you next." When Willie ran out into the garden, he smelt the hay again, sweeter than ever. " My new rake, my new rake, nurse !" he cried to nurse, who was up at tlie nursery * window, " Bring me my new rake, for I smell the hay, and I shall have such fun in the field." 103 Nurse brought the rake directly, and Willie ran down the garden into the field. All the men were at work there, very busy, and Willie was very busy too. Soon nurse brought baby into the hay-field, too, and sat down with him. Still Willie did not leave off turning the hay, for he wanted to see whether he could not work as hard as one of the big men. But he was tired very soon. " What can it be ?" said he to himself, " for they are not tired at all !" Then he saw that the big men did not wear any coats, but worked in their shirt-sleeves : so Willie pulled off his warm jacket, and threw it under the hedge, and went on working. Still he became more tired, but as nurse was there, he did not like her to think he was not strong, and he raked faster and faster. Pretty soon he became very dizzy, partly from working so hard in the heat, and partly from eating so many rich things in the cook's pantry. " Nurse, nurse ! the trees are going round. I can feel the world turning round, as papa says it does, nurse.'' 104 Nurse was very kind to the silly tiny man ; she carried him under the shadow of the hedge, and there left him, asleep, in a few minutes, while she went to look after his jacket. But there was no jacket anywhere under the hedge, for while nurse was working with her needle, and Willie was working with his rake, a gipsy woman had peeped over the hedge, and, seeing a new blue jacket that seemed to belong to nobody, had carried it away. When Willie woke up, he thouglit it was the morning, and that he was in his own little bed ; but never, in his own little bed, had he woke up so uncomfortable. His head was so heavy he could hardly lift it up, and his temples ached, and his eyes were sore, and his arms and legs were very stiff indeed. And he did not feel the least hungry, but he felt very thirsty, and his tongue was dry and hot. " It is time for dinner, Master Willie," said nurse, coming up to him, " and baby has a very good appetite indeed." " I have not any appetite at all, nurse," said Willie's birthday. 105 Willie, " and I am very sorry it is dinner-time, for half my birthday is gone, and I have not enjoyed doing anything yet, much." Nurse had covered Willie with her shawl. " Where is my jacket ?" he asked. " Ah ! Master Willie, I have looked for it high and low, ever since you fell asleep. Somebody has found it and carried it away." Willie felt very cross and sorry, for he had borne his new clothes, though he was not com- fortable in them, because he wanted the boys who were coming to tea to see him dressed so. " It was your fault, nurse, and you are very unkind. If you had taken care of my jacket it would not have been stolen." " Master Willie," said nurse, " your mamma told me I was not to do anything for you to- day but what you liked, and you did not bring me your jacket, nor did I see where you put it." So Willie was obliged to sit down to table in his waistcoat and shirt-sleeves on his birth- day. That Avas not the worst thing either. Willie had ordered his own dinner that day, 106 WILLIE'S BIRTHDAY. and there was salmon and slirimp sauce, and roast chicken and bacon, and young peas and mashed potatoes, and currant and raspberry tart, and gooseberry pie, and custard pudding. But of all those nice things Willie could only eat a little bit of chicken and a small piece of custard pudding ; and he did not enjoy even these things, for the brown drink had, as he said, taken away his appetite for dinner ; just as the new milk had taken away his appe- tite for breakfast. Willie's friends were to come soon after dinner, and he said to nurse, " Will they laugh at me if I don't wear a jacket, for all my other clothes are like theirs?" "I don't know, Master Willie ; but I know that gentlemen do not generally receive com- pany in shirt-sleeves." " Shall I, or shall I not, nurse ?" - As you like, Master Willie ; I can give you no advice, to-day." Then Willie went to his mamma. " Mamma, shall I receive my company in my 107 shirt-sleeves, or shall I wear my best velvet frock r " As yon like, Willie," said mamma. " AVon't you give me any advice, either, mamma?" " No, Willie, you wished to do as you liked to-day." " Dear !" thought Willie, " I wish some one would advise me. I wish I knew how to advise myself!" Then he went into the garden to see the tent wliich the men were putting up on the lawn ; for Willie wished to have tea in the garden with his friends. The tent was nearly ready, only the tables were not yet placed ; and while the men fastened a flag to the top of the tent the housemaids carried out the tables, and the cook helped them, because they were heavy. Willie was watching them, when the cat ran across the lawn. The cook saw her, and ran after her, and began to switch her with a little stick which Willie had left on the lawn. Willie ran too. " Don't hurt pus^y, cook !" he cried. 108 Willie's birthday. " I must give her a smart touch, Master "Willie, to teach her she mayn't steal my cream." " Oh, cook ! no, no ! / am the cat. I don't mean I m the cafc, though but I did it, not the cat." "You lapped up all that cream, Master Willie ? No, no, little gentlemen do queer things sometimes, but you won't find them lap up cream like a cat ; it would not be conven- ient, unless you turned into a cat on purpose, Mastei^ Willie." " No, no ; I mean " — and now Willie cover- ed his face with his hand : he was ashamed to look at her face — " I mean, I pulled down the bowl, and then it broke, and then I could not mend it, nor pick up the cream." " What, stealing. Master Willie ?" " No, no, not stealing, cook ; only doing as I liked to-day." " Don't you know. Master Willie, that when a thief steals, it is always because he does as he likes?" Willie was angry, and he walked back td^ Willie's birthday. 109 the tent. There was tlic poor new dog wag- ging his tail. But doggie liad been in the water at the bottom of the garden ; for he was a dog that loved tlie water, and the gardener had thrown liim a stone. And when Willie saw how wet the dog was, he was afraid his new dress would be soiled, all that he had left of it ; so he went away into the house, aad left the poor dog on the lawn wagging his tail, and looking as if he would like very much not to be left behind. Tlie first of Willie's friends who arrived, was a young gentleman about twelve, and the oldest of Willie's young acquaintance. This young gentleman thought himself a grown man as much 'as Willie thought himself a boy ; and, directly he saw Willie, he burst into a laugh so loud, so rude, that Willie was quite frightened, and began to cry. Then the young gentleman lifted Willie up in his arras and dandled him like a baby, and laughed louder tfian ever. Willie struggled very much to get down, and quite left off crying ; but his face was redder than a soldier's coat, for he knew 10 110 Willie's birthday. the hi^ger young gentleman was laugliing at him for crying in his new boy's dress. " May I inquire who is your tailor?" asked he, putting Willie down. " I don't know," said Willie ; " but it is very unkind to laugh at me, for a gipsy woman stole my jacket." "The best thing she ever did," said the young gentleman, who was not very unkind, only very thoughtless. And if you will take my advice, Willie, you will get off those clothes before the other boys come ; for they will all laugh, for certain." Willie was glad to take his advice, even though he gave it rudely. But, as he was running across the hall, several other boysf. came in, and they all laughed very loud in- deed when they saw him such a droll little figure. He ran upstairs as fast as ever he could, and pulled off all his new clothes, and asked nurse to dress him in his best velvei frock, and shoes, and socks, and white trousers Even then his troubles were not ended ; foj when he went down again to his friends, the] Willie's birthday. Ill pretended, for fun, not to know him, until he showed them his rocking-horse, which took up their attention directly. Willie was now to see the consequences of many pei'sons doing as they liked. For he had asked his mamma not to come into the play-room at all after his friends came. Seeing no lady, no nurse, and no great papa— no little girls either, for Willie only liked to invite boys— the young gentlemen all began to do as they liked. They all tried to get upon the rocking-horse, but the strongest pushed the rest away, and got on the horse himself. Then two other young gentlemen crept under the horse's legs, and squatted on the rocker, and two others on the rockers at each end. And it was in vain for the one on the horse's back to kick in the stir- ups, or to flourish the whip ; the others ivoiild JticluDn, and very soon the horse turned side- w-ayl^nd fell on the floor with a great noise. Tlie young gentlemen were all hurt a little, ixcept the one on the horse's back ; he had jumped ofi" at first, and when the horse waa 112 set on his rockers again, he had all the riding, for tiie others were afraid of another tumble. Poor Willie ! he was very uncomfortable ; for, besides taking possession of his horse, his young friends took all his other toys and quarreled over them. One carried the box of big bricks into a corner, and another, who wanted the bricks too, stood by and knocked them down as fast as they were set up ; and soon the two began to throw the bricks at one another, instead of building. Three others pulled out the large Noah's ark ; but each one wanted to arrange the animals himself, and snatching them from one another, a great many of the animals' heads and legs were broken. So it was with the ninepins, and the puzzles, and the great book of pictures pasted on linen, and the balls, and whips, and drum. Willie had not one toy to play with himself, and those who had them did not seem to enjoy them, foi^iey would not give up to each other ; and soon they threw them all down, and began to play at games of their own : for they were all Willie's birthday. 113 older than Willie, who had thought it very fine to invite them because they were older. He had expected to lead all the games him- self, and to say what games should be played ; but all made sucli a noise, and were so full of doing just what each liked, that Willie's soft voice was not heard, nor his uncomfortable face noticed. And as no one gave up to the other, soon there was nothing but noise — no regular game ; unless they meant to play at a garden of bears, or a wood full of roaring lions : for they made almost as much noise as if they did. Willie was glad when the servant said tea was ready, because he thought they would then be quiet. Willie had asked his mamma to let him make the tea, and she was to sit at the bottom of the table. But when Willie tried to lift the heavy silver teapot, he could not move it the least. And when he had turned the tap of the tea-urn, he could not turn it back again, and the hot water poured all over the board, and the table, and scalded his hand. 10* 114 Willie's birthday. " Mamma, come, come!" cried Willie, " come now, for I like you to come." Yes, little boys always like their mammas when they are in trouble. Mamma came, for she thought Willie had suffered enough about the tea : and she made the tea and helped every one : so for a little time they were quiet, because they were eating and drinking, and because mamma was there. On the table, at tea, was a dish of large strawberries. Willie knew the dish very well — it was the very dish from which he had eaten six large strawberries in the morning. " Willie," said mamma, " few strawberries are ripe yet, but I gathered enough for you all to have six a-piece, and they are very large. You can help them while I make the tea." So Willie gave each of his guests six straw- berries, and took six himself. Then the dish was empty. By-and-by, mamma, who had been busy making tea, looked up. '' Why, Willie, where are baby's straw- berries ?" " Baby's strawberries, mamma ?" said Willie. Willie's birthday. 115 " Yes, Willie ; there were six for each of you, and six for baby ; for he loves strawber- ries very much, and I was going to send them to the nursery for him, as he is too young to have tea with us. Where can his six straw- berries be ? You must have given some one more than six." Willie looked into his plate ; he had eaten all his strawberries : but that was not why he looked down. It was because he had eaten baby's strawberries in the morning ; and he felt he had been greedy, and selfish, and mean, in doing what he liked. He loved baby so dearly too, and baby loved strawberries better than anything to eat ; but baby would have no strawberries, because Willie had eaten his own share and baby's too ! Willie could not speak before all those boys, or he felt tliat he should cry ; but he almost began to wish it was bedtime, that he miglit tell mamma : for he never felt quite happy, after he had been naughty and foolish, until he had told mamma. While Willie and his friends were at tea, 116 WILLIE'S BIRTHDAY. papa was at dinner, for he had now come oack from London. Willie began to think how he should amuse his friends until they went away, for they had all seemed tired of doing what they liked, and he did not feel as if he had done what he liked at all. He thought, and thought, until he remem- bered that papa had been so kind as to say he would give them all a treat in the evening. Soon papa came to the tent, and told Willie he had asked the gentleman who lived in the next house, and who had a very nice boat, to lend him the boat, that they might all go out for a row upon the river. The river flowed through papa's garden, and through the garden of the gentleman who lived next to papa, and then it got much wider, flowing a long way through beautiful green fields. Willie's papa had two swans, and Willie and baby often went down to the river to feed the swans with bread. They always went with nurse, though, and were told they must never go alone ; because the bank was very Willie's juktjid.w. 117 steep and bent down over tlie water at the bottom, and the water was very deep. Willie had also seen tlie gentleman's boat a long way off, when the gentleman was row- ing it, and often, very often, longed to go in it. He thought his friends would like to go too ; and so they did : now, for the first time on his birthday, Willie felt happy, quite happy in doing what he liked. Papa had brought the boat to that part of the river which flowed through his own garden, and it was tied to the stump of an old willow- tree that bowed over the river from the bank. Papa lifted all the boys in ; though some of the bigger ones were rather angry at being lifted, but they dared not show their anger before a great papa. Papa lifted them because he knew how silly boys are, and was afraid they might slip, in stepping down from the bank. He lifted Willie last into the boat, and then got in him- self, untied the boat, and took up both the oars. All the boys liked it very much at first, but I think Willie liked it better than any of them. It was so pretty to see the green oar dip into 118 the clear water, and then come up aj^-ain out of the water, throwing little white splashes round it, like the foam on the waves of the sea. And it was so pleasant to move so gently, instead of being tossed up and down, as Willie remem- bered to have been when his papa took him in a little boat on the waves of the sea. There was a little island too, on which the swans built their nests, and Willie had often wished to get close to the island. Now they passed so near it, that Willie was able to pluck one of the tall bulrushes which grew about the nests, and he even saw the eggs in the nest, half hidden under the thick grass. Soon the river became wider, and there were corn-fields, and fields of oats and barley, and little cottages, and large farm-houses, and barns and hay-ricks, on each side. At last, on one side of the river, they pass- ed a large green field where the grass had been cut quite short, and tliere a great many boys and men were playing at cricket. Willie could not play at cricket yet. and as be did not understand the game, he did not care 119 about it ; but all the other boys had begun to learn, and cared about it very much. They all said so ; and the biggest boy said he could see his elder brother, who was at play in the field among the rest. So, as papa was very tired of rowing, he said tliey should all get out for a little time, and that those who liked could watch the game, and those who liked could run about, wliile he rested. Willie did not want to get out, lie wanted to go on in the boat ; but when he heard papa say he was tired, he was ashamed of asking. He would have been ashamed, also, of saying he wanted to go on, when all the rest wanted to go out ; but he thought it was very disagree- able, and the thought made his face look disagreeable too, for a little while. There was a nice smooth low bank just there, and they all landed safely — Willie last ; except papa, who just stayed to put the oars along the seats of the boat. All the boys left Willie standing by himself upon the bank, and ran directly to the place where tlie people were playing at cricket. 120 Willie's birthday. Papa went too, and looked on at the game. Willie knew very well that if he had gone and ?fcood by his papa, and asked him, papa would have told him all about the game, and made it pleasant to him tliough he could not play. But Willie would not go, because he felt vexed at being taken out of the boat. He was very uncomfortable indeed. Nothing looked pretty to his eyes just then ; not the green boat, nor the blue forget-me-nots and pink flowering rushes which grew in the water so near that he could have gathered a fine nosegay. Nothing seemed agreeable ; the merry shouts of the men and boys at play, and the sweet ringing of the church bells across the field, sounded sad, and made the tears come into Willie's eyes. Yet he felt he was not quite good ; and if he had been brave he would have fought with the naughty spirit that wanted to get into his heart, and pushed it away. He would have swallowed his tears and run to his papa, and asked him questions, smiling as he did when he was good. Wl [.lie's BIKTIIDAr. 121 But he would not figlit the spirit ; he let it creep into his heart, and it drove all the love out of his heart for a little while ; for it was the spirit called self-will. That spirit made Willie stand with his back to everybody, on the bank, all the time the others were enjovino- themselves in the field. And tliere papa^saw him, when he came to unfasten the boat. While papa was rowing back acrain towards Willie's home the eldest of tlie boys said he could row a little, and asked if he might try the oars. Papa was so kind as to allow him'; and then another of the boys wanted to try' and then another ; though onlv the eldest knew how to row. They could all manage to hold the oars for a minute, because they were all older and stronger than Willie, who was two years younger tlian the youngest of them. . ^ Then Willie wanted to row. Papa was so kind as to put the oars in his hands. His little fat fingers could scarcely get round the oars ^and he could not hold them a minute, they were ^0 heavy. He would have dropped them into the water if papa had not caught hold of them 11 122 Willie's birthday. The boys all laughed. But the naughty spirit whispered in AVillie's heart, "It was only because you tried to lift both oars at once. You could row with one oar, as the youngest boy did. When they are all gone out of the boat you shall try again ; but not while they are looking, for they would laugh. Papa found they were getting on so slowly while the boys held the oars, that he took them himself and rowed home very fast. The sun was just set, but there was a beautiful moon ; and as they stopped at the bottom of the garden, they saw that the tent on the lawn was lighted up with lamps. The^amps made Willie forget the oars for a little while, and he ran up the garden ; and the other boys ran too. They were all very hungry with the air on the river, and very' glad to see the table ready laid for supper. There was Willie's place, too, on a chair higher than the rest, at the top of the table ; an°d thathigli throne helped still more to make him forget the oars. Mamma and papa sat at the bottom of the Willie's birthday. I93 table, side by side. AVillie l,ad forgotten all about the flag, too, which he liad broken off the cake in tlie morning ; and, thougli the cake was on a very liigli dish in tlie middle of tlie table, yet AVillie was so hungry he did not look particularly at anything but his plate • for the air had given him the first appetite he bad felt on his birthday, and he could 'enjoy the nice things, and he ate a great many of them. All the boys were enjoying them too and they, also, were looking too particularly M their plates to think of the cake ; for the cake was to be cut last of all, when the servants came into the tent. When Willie had eaten as much as he could of -^old chicken and ham, and pie and pudding, and tart and custard, he found time to look about him. All at once he saw the French and Sardinian flags, waving in the middle of the cake, without the English flag. What a strange and ridiculous thing for an English boy on his birthday to hoist no English flag ! And it looked still more odd in the evenln- than it had done in the morning, because since 124 Willie's birthday. then tlie cake had been covered with coloured sugar soldiers in English soldiers' dresses, and coloured sugar sailors, in the blue jackets of En