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Tales and Sketches.
Scottish estate was always a season of JAMIE'S FAITH.'
festivity. They hailed the signal of his MARGARET GREY Was a widow, who return the running up of a flag on the with three children lived in a small cottage higbest tower of the Castle with shouts on the estate of Lord Dundale, in Scot of hearty rejoicing. land. When her husband died Margaret The cottage of the Greys was on a shady had been compelled to give up the land he lane, through which the young lord often had farmed, with the exception of a little rode in the pleasant autumn mornings or garden, and a patch of pasturage on which evenings ; sometimes with a gay party of she supported a cow and a sbaggy High ladies and gentlemen, guests at the Castle ; land pony called Rab.
sometimes, when the hour was early, quite This last was a very important member alone ; and sometimes with one beautiful, of the family, as without him the widow dark-eyed lady, fresh as a rose and proud could not have conveyed to market the as a lily, who it was said was one day to butter and eggs, on the proceeds of which be the mistress of Dundale Castle. The the frugal little household subsisted. For Grey children, little Effie and Jamie, his part Rab seemed fully conscious of noticed that when the young lord rode by his own important and responsible position himself, or with ever so large a party of in the widow's family, gave up all frieking riders, he never failed to acknowledge their and frolicking ways, and conducted himself bows and courtesies with a nod and a in a staid and sober manner on his way to pleasant word and smile ; but that when and from the market town, and assumed be and the dark-eyed lady together ambled towards the children in their little rides a slowly past, he did not seem to see their sort of protecting, patronizing, paternal wistful little faces at all. So, in their character, which was really edifying to secret bearts, they took something very behold.
much like a spite against the beautiful Lord Dundale was a young man, very Lady Evelyn, and hoped their young lord handsome and stately, but gepile and would change his mind. gracious, and much beloved by his family
One autumn evening, as Margaret Grey and tenants. The children on his estate rode homeward from the market town, she looked up to him with loving reverence, as noticed that Rab, the pony, was languid to a superior being, from whom nothing and slow ; that he hung his head debut good and happiness were to be ex jectedly, and made no effort to browse pected by the deserving. For them his along the hedgerows as usual. She supyouth, beauty, and elegance, had especial posed that he was tired with his day's charms; their sweet, simple affection, work, but trusted that he would be well their timid, grateful devotion, were laid in the morning. Ales, when the morning at his feet; so that when moving among came, poor, faithful old Rab was found them he trod on unseen flowers. They dead, stretched out stiff and cold in his loved to hesr and to tell of the grand and par dock! beautiful things at that fairy palace the Effie and Jamie grieved passionately over Castle ; a noble old edifice, with massive their lost friend and playfellow. They sat towers, a moat, a lofty gateway, and an down beside him on the grass, and looking ancient draw-bridge and portcullis, wbich at his poor, helpless feet, worn in their stood high in the midst of great forest service, wept bitterly that they would carry trees.
them along the lane and up the hill-side no Lord Dundale, being in delicate health, more ; they patted, half fearfully, the was able to spend but a few months of 1 shaggy neck, which would arch to their each year in Scotland, the climate being caresses never again ; they drew back with too severe for him ; but he loved the place a shudder after touching the cold lips of his birth, and was never so happy as | which had so often eaten the sweet clover when, like Rob Roy, he could say, “My from their hands, and turned with a sense foot is on my native heath."
of strange wonder and awfulness from the To his tenants bis yearly visit to his death-misted eyes, which had always ebone
upon them with an almost human affec1 thoroughbred bay mare. In a moment he tion.
was over the fence, in the road, in the very Margaret Grey wept also ; fewer tears path of the rider, crying out in an agony than her children, but sadder. She had of entreaty, “Stop, stop, my lord ! our many sweet and mournful memories con Rab is dead: yo maun make him alive nected with poor Rab. Her dear old
dear old again!" father gave him to her on her eighteenth Lord Dundale checked his horse, and birthday. She remembered many a joyful looked down on his little petitioner in gallop on his back through the lanes and silent astonishment, while Mrs. Grey ran over the moors. She remembered how out of the cottage, with baby in her arms sometimes she rode him slowly, with his and catching hold of Jamie, strove to lif rein on his neck; for young Angus Grey him out of the way. But the little fellow -walked by her side, and told her pleasant resisted sturdily, crying still, news--always pleasant and interesting, “Let him make Rab alive! He maun though always about the same thing. make him alive!" She remembered how once he checked “But, my little fellow," said the Earl, Rab’s rein under the shade of a hawthorn- smiling, “if Rab is really dead—and I am _tree, and asked her to be his wife. She very sorry to hear it-I cannot make him remembered, too, how Rab had borne her | alive: how could you think of such a to the kirk, to be married to Angus Grey; thing?" ind she thought of three other Sundays! But Jamie stood his ground, answering, -when he had carried her and her baby, “My mither says you once made a big und of yet one other time, when he had mon alive after he had been dead four Irawn slowly away from her door a hearse, | days. Rab is only a sma' pony, and he's thereupon lay the beloved husband and been dead but a wee bit while ; so it's no' a ather. She thought, too, with tender hard job for you. Dinna say you will na inxiety, that now the last help of the do it.” vidow, her humble fellow.labourer, was “What can the little lad mean, Mrs. aken from her, and the grim wolf of want Grey ?" asked Lord Dundale, utterly beind hunger seemed to stand in poor dead wildered. Rab's place. Even the baby seemed to "I dinna ken, my lord," she replied, 'eel something of her anxiety and distress, “ unless, Heaven save us! he takes you ind put up its pretty little lips to cry; so, for the Lord of lords. I did na think o comfort it, and to calm herself by her the bairn was 80 heathenish and so isual household labour, she returned to daft. You maun forgie the poor he cottage, leaving Effie and Jamie still child." itting beside old Rab. Their grief had Lord Dundale dismounted, and taking omewhat moderated, yet they sobbed as the little fellow by the hand, by a few
hey talked of the virtues of the deceased, simple questions soon found that this was Eind wondered what life would be without indeed Jamie's strange delusion.
“My poor little laddie," he said, "you “Ah, Jamie," said Effile, "dinna you are woefully mistaken. I cannot bring vish the Lord was here now? You ken your dear old pony back to life. You can -* nither told us how he cured sick folk, and never play with him, or feed him, or ride
10w he once made a mon alive again that him among the heather or along the burniad been dead four days. He could make side again. Rab's work is done, and it is Tur Rab alive wi' a touch of his finger, gin time he should rest. But, Jamie, I can 1e would try, Jamie."
give you another pony in his place; one Wee Jamie was a simple-hearted child, that hope may serve your good mother carcely four summers old : his little brain as well as Rab, and that you and Effie was easily bewildered. For him there was must love for my sake. And now goodput one lord--the good and generous bye. I hope Jamie will yet know well young nobleman at the Castle. Of his the Lord most groat, and good, and power and goodness Jamie could believe loving-the only true Lord of life and anything; and though he opened his eyes
| death." wide at his sister's story, his face grew! Taking a kindly leave of Mrs. Grey, the radiant with joy, as just at that moment young lord then rode on; but in the be caught sight of Lord Dundale trotting course of the day the groom of the Castle slowly down the lane on his beautifull galloped down to the widow's cottage,
leading the new pony, a handsome, sturdy | berless economies, by sales of fruit and little animal, and so gentle and docile that eggs, by constant remembrance of the in not only Jamie, but timid little Effie, junction, “ Lay up for yourselves treasure could ride him with safety ; and even the in heaven.” We had been disposed some baby, when set on his back, played with times to laugh at the two old ladies, bu his mane and answered his whinny with a never again did we think of them withoz triumphant crow.
reverence and love. So Jamie's faith, though mistaken, was When we were preparing to send a prerewarded, and his innocent, fervent little sent to the hospital, a chaise stopped att: prayer was answered, not by a Divine door, and the two old ladies appearer miracle, but by a generous human heart, bearing a goodly store. which also found its reward in proving the The old chaise was filled with cups truth of the Master's worde, “ It is more jelly and bottles of currant wine, with soi blessed to give than to receive."
linen and warm blankets. They ha! brought enough to fill a generous box. 1:1
was easy to see why the dear old peopx FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!
wore the same dresses year after year, and
carried such faded parasols. It was quite an annoyance to a fashion We heard of a very poor famils, an ! able family in our church that two old
went to ascertain what they especially ladies, who adhered to a very ancient mode needed : we had been anticipated by the of dress, occupied the pew before them samo charitable hands. There was the every Sunday. They wore narrow black
willow basket, familiar in all the houses of silk dresses, wide collars, and old-fashioned our poor, which had brought bread and bonnets. The children had drawn several meat, and cordials for the sick. With our caricatures of their neighbours in the two old ladies it seemed very true tha: hymn-books. These thoughtless young “ giving does not impoverish :” the people did not notice the sweet peace cruse of oil was never empty. wbich illuminated the faces of the two old
Again we called at the old house to be ladies while they "worshipped the Lord in something for the soldiers' tracts 801 the beauty of holiness.”
books : still ope gold coin remained w When we were sent out on a collecting send us on our way rejoicing. They were tour for the missionary society, we pre quilting in the clear old kitchen ; this sented the book very gladly to the rich must be designed for themselves ; but they lady who dressed so beautifully. She re asked us to walk into the parlour, and 7 ceived us in an elegant drawing-room, but
a few articles they were about to send to a a cloud shadowed her face on learning our home missionary's family. For MALT errand. After making many excuses about months they had been sewing and knitting, her want of faith in such far-off missions, until a table was covered with garments for and her preference for home charities, and the unknown brother in Christ. the times which limited her expenditure, That was a sacred house : it reminded u she returned with a silver half-crown. of the one where Jesus used to resort. We
At an unpretending little house we never failed to find gold in the worn purtes stopped rather unwillingly. Here lived food in the closet for the hungry, wine er: 1 those shabby old ladies who looked so an.
soup for the sick, whenever we applied to tiquated : it was almost useless to solicit
the women who were “poor, yet makita their aid. The room was plainly furnished, many rich." . with well-worn furniture and a home-made When jewels and costly dress will her la carpet : there were no pictures on the lost their charm, when the white robe 1 walls, no books visible, except an old Christ's giving will be the only one de family Bible, which looked as if it was sired, our two old-fashioned ladies will find always open. At the sight of the little their gold and silver, hoarded for his sute. subscription book it was unnecessary to mention our object. The younger sister
safe for them, and all their charities, gires went to some distant bureau drawer, and
80 poiselessly that the left hand did not brought back an old leather purse. It was
know what the right hand did, repsius full of bright gold pieces. With a radiant
thousand-fold !-Tract Journal. face she gavo five shining sovereigns into our bands, saved by self-denial and nurn. |
home before going to Mr. Rand's, and
bring you a loaf of bread; then you'll feel FOR THE YOUNG.
better, won't you, mother?” ONE lovely spring day two children, “Thank you, dear boy: you're always Maude and Frank, were seated under an thinking of me. 'Twill make your walk arbour in a beautiful garden. A waiter much longer, and you are not so strong as covered with tempting luxuries was on the you used to be. But,” she added with a little table before them.
sigh, “ perhaps you had better do so, as I It was Maude's tenth birthday, and her | feel very fuint. For your sake I must try mother had invited her cousin Frank to to keep up my strength." spend it with her. She had also provided | Poor Willie bad been to both of his emthis nice feast, as she knew her little ployers, and neither needed his services. daughter liked very much to “play party." With a sad heart and weary feet he wag
At a short distance from them stood a retracing his steps, when the children's little boy leaning against the white paling merry voices attracted his attention. which ran in front of the garden. He was Upon raising his eyes and seeing Willie, a pitiable-looking object, thin, pale, and Frank exclaimed, “What are you doing ragged. With sad, wistful eyes, he gazed there ? Get away, you ugly beggar-boy. earnestly upon the scene before him. I'd like to know what right you have to Little Willie--for that was the boy's name look over the fence at us. We shall not
though very hungry, was not thinking give you any of our good things, so you of himself, but of his sick mother. He may just go away." was wondering how he could earn money Though Frank was really a handsome enough to buy an orange like those the boy, his face had a most sour, disagreeable children had, and just such a nice-looking expression just then.. piece of cake, for the sick mother he loved Little Willie's heart was too full to bear so dearly.
being so rudely addressed. · The blood Willie's father had died a few months rushed up to his face, and with streaming before, and the small sums which Willie eyes he turned quickly away. earned by doing errands, and the little his "I wonder," thought he, “if that boy mother received for such plain sewing as knows how wicked it is to speak so. I she had been able to do, were their only hope God wont make him as sad as he means of subsistence. .
has me. He didn't know I had a sick For the last fortnight his mother had mother at home who is dying for want of been too unwell to work, and he had not food, or he wouldn't have spoken so. I earned as much as usual; consequently they mustn't feel angry with him, though I'm so had been unable to procure sufficient food sorry he didn't want to give me just one to keep them from being very hungry.
orange.” It had never occurred to Willie that he "Oh, Frank!” exclaimed Maude, in a sad, might beg; but now, as he stood looking reproachful tonė, “how could you speak at those happy children, he thought of 80 crossly to the boy? I'm sure it doesn't asking for some of their luncheon, but do us any harm to have him look at us as could not summon courage, though he long as he wants to. Perhaps he is hungry, silently prayed that God would put it too. I've read of children who have not into their hearts to give him of their enough to eat. I wonder if he is, poor abundance.
fellow!" When Willie left in the morning his! Quick as thought she snatched her pormother said, “I hope Mr. Jenks will have tion of the white, frosted cake, oranges, an errand for you to do to-day, as you and little oyster crackers, and hastily putmust need food, for you've eaten neither ting them into a little basket hanging on supper nor breakfast. But don't be dis her arm, which she had brought out to fill couraged, dear child : the Lord will pro. with flowers, rushed after the unhappy vide. He will never forsake the widow outcast, screaming, “Little boy! little and fatherless. He who feedeth the raven boy! wait a minute.” and the sparrow will care for us."
Willie turned, and saw this beautiful “I think," replied the boy cheerfully, child running towards him. She was very " I shall certainly got a job to-day, from fair, with soft blue eyes, over which both Mr. Jenks and Mr. Rand. If I get dropped long shining lashes. Dark curls sixpence from Mr. Jenks I shall come l hung over her snowy white shoulders. It was such a sight as our heavenly Father her mother; "but as you have been wantloves to behold, when that little one, with ing a wax doll for so long & time, and a heart full of love, offered her basket to 1 seemed to anticipate so much pleasure in the unfortunate child.
dressing it this afternoon, I am surprised " I'm sorry, little boy," said she, “that to hear anything could tempt you to give Frank spoke so to you. I fear you are up the little lady' you bad selected.” hungry, and have brought these for you.” " Oh, mamma, I didn't get anything else
Willie's face brightened as he took the instead. Nothing would please me so basket and said, “Oh, I thank you a much. The doll at Partridge's is such a thousand timos ! I was wishing God would | beauty, with black eyes, that can open or put it into your hearts to give me some. I shut, and such cunning little curls !” did not want it for myself, but for my “Well, Maude," replied her mother, “I mother, who is very sick, and faint for must say I don't understand. You say want of food.”
you admire the doll as much as ever, and “But aren't you hungry too ?" asked have chosen nothing else instead ; how little Maude.
then can you have spent the money?" “Yes," replied the boy; "but I don't “I gave it to a little boy," replied care for that. Oh how glad mother will Maude, “who said his mother was sick be! The oranges will be so nice for her to and hungry.” take when she coughs. You are very kind. Mrs. Clifford looked pleased, kissed her I shall run all the way.”
little daughter, and said, “I am glad you After once more thanking his bene are willing to deny yourself in order to refactress with looks as well as words, he lieve the wants of others. I wish I knew hurried away, but not until she had slipped where to find the boy, so that I could half a sovereign from her pocket into his call and see if his mother is really sufferhand, saying, “ 'Tis mine to do as I please
ing." with, and I want you to take it to your At this moment Bridget, who had just mother."
entered the room, said, “Sure, ma'am, if it "Maude," said her cousin, as she re is the little boy that Miss Maude gave the turned, “I do believe you are the queerest basket to this morning ye's after find. girl that ever lived. Now you've got no ing, I can tell ye where he lives. He luncheon. Aunt has gone out, and you fetched the basket back just now, and I · know nurse wont give you any more.” asked him where he lived. 'Tis No.
“Well, I don't care," replied the happy 45, Margin Street. His name is Willie little girl : “I feel just as if I'd eaten it all myself. The little boy was so hungry, and "Thank you, Bridget," replied Mrs. his mother is sick and hungry too. I wish Clifford. Then, turning to Maude, she you could have seen how delighted he said, “Instead of going to buy the doll, if looked.”
you and Frank would like it, we will call “ Of course you have a right to do what I on Mrs. Carlow, and see if she needs any. you please with your own things," said thing." Frank in a surly tone, as he turned away “Oh yes, mamma, do go,” said little and slowly walked down the path, feeling Maude. rather uncomfortable. His little cousin's Seeing that Frank said nothing, Mrs. conduct was a more severe reproof to him Clifford remarked, that if he would prefer than any words could have been.
riding to the city with Jim, who was going When the children returned to the to get some groceries, he might do so. house Mrs. Clifford said, “I'm ready now, As Frank agreed to this arrangement, Maude, to go with you into the city to buy Mrs. Clifford and Maude set on their the doll ; and this afternoon I'll help you errand of mercy, taking with them a little dress it, as I promised.”
basket of delicacies for the invalid. “I can't buy it,” replied Maude: “I've Maude was fully repaid for giving up spent my half-sovereign."
the doll when she saw the heartfelt grati“Can't buy it! spent your balf-sove tude of poor Willie, and heard his mother reign !” exclaimed Mrs. Clifford.
say, as she bade her good-bye, “Whoso “Yes, mamma: you know uncle James giveth a cup of cold water only to one of said I might do as I pleased with it, be these little ones, shall in no wise lose his cause it is my birthday."
reward." “You had a right to spend it," replied ! Little Maude told her mother that night