Part 12 (1/2)

They had scarcely finished their work when the big school-bell sounded, and the boys all came trooping in. Will had to go back to his place, but he left a very light-hearted little boy behind him, for Johnnie and he had vowed life-long friends.h.i.+p, and sums and spelling seemed to have lost all their terrors for both of them.

When Johnnie arrived home from school he could talk of nothing but Will Maynard, and Will, for his part, voted Johnnie ”a jolly little chap.”

Many a time after that day did they help each other, and when it was reported after the examination that they had both pa.s.sed, each declared he must have failed without the other's help.

They are firm friends still, and are likely to remain so; and whenever a difficulty occurs, in school or out, they always tackle it together; for, as Johnnie says, ”A difficulty shared is only half a difficulty.”

T'IS NOT FINE FEATHERS THAT MAKE FINE BIRDS.

She was a lady with pins in her hair On a funny old j.a.panese fan.

He was a proud bit of Chinese ware In the shape of a Mandarin man.

She sighed, when she saw him appear on the shelf, For she thought of her shabby old frock.

She said ”Oh! I know he will scorn an old fan, As he comes of a very proud stock.”

The Mandarin sneered as he took a front place, But his pride had a fall when he found, That the fan was dispatched to a very grand show, For her beauty and age were renowned!

So we'll leave him alone on his shelf while he thinks, With a large diminution of pride, ”It is not the feathers that make the fine bird, But the worth of the bird that's inside!”

Horatia Browne.

ELSIE'S FAULT.

Elsie Hayden would have been a charming little maiden but for her besetting fault--talebearing. She was always running in to tell her mother or governess the faults of the others. All day long it was, ”Mamma, Rex took some currants,” ”Mamma, Minnie blotted her copy this morning,” ”Mamma, the boys have been quarrelling,” or some other complaint concerning her companions. Before long Elsie was to go to school, and her mother knew what troubles lay before her if she persisted in looking out for motes in the eyes of others, and forgetting all about the beams in her own. She got Elsie to work a text in silks, ”Speak not evil one of _another_,” and she told the child that if we feel it is our duty to complain of somebody else, we should be very careful to speak only the _truth_, and in _love_.

One day Elsie came to her mother in great distress.

”Mamma,” she sobbed, ”they won't play with me; the others have all sent me to Coventry. They whisper 'tell-tale-t.i.t' when I go near them; please make them play with me, mamma. It is so horrid to be left all alone.”

”But Elsie,” said Mrs. Hayden, ”you have brought this trouble on yourself. When you play with the others you seem always on the lookout to find fault with them; how can you suppose they will enjoy a game with a little tale-bearer? Miss Clifford and nurse and I have kept an account of the tales you have carried to us, complaining of the others, and our lists added together make 352 complaints in one week!”

”Oh, mamma--I _haven't_ been a tale-bearer 352 times in a week!”

”It is so indeed, my poor little Elsie. I am sadly afraid you will grow up a scandal-monger, one of those people who go from house to house spreading tales and making mischief. You must try hard, my darling, to cure this fault; remember your _own_ failings, and let the faults of your playmates alone. Poor little Minnie came crying this morning to confess to me she had called you by an unkind name which I had forbidden; but she found you already complaining about her, and trying to get her punished. It was not kind or sisterly, Elsie! Let _love_ rule that little tongue, and be silent when those impatient complaints come into your mind.”

”I will try, mamma--I will indeed. Will you keep another list for _next_ week, and see if I am any better?”

Mrs. Hayden promised to do so, and the result showed that Elsie had been a tale-bearer ten times only during the week. The child tried very hard to cure herself of fault-finding, and she was soon ”out of Coventry,”

and as time went on n.o.body on seeing her sang the rhyme about ”tell-tale-t.i.t.”