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r> her friend ; full of life, yet gentle in manner, gen-
os offering from Maggie and the “baby brother,” and
Pe emerene
NUMBER 36.
OLMSTEAD & CO., PUBLISHERS.-
. i
For the Companion, :
MAGGIE AND HER “TREASURES.”
Two miles from the busy village of M. can be
seen a plain, substantial farm-house ; over the prin-
cipal entrance is a lattice, in summer time entirely
“hidden from sight by clustering vines, trained and
tended by the merry Maggie, Farmer L.’s only and
pet daughter; more than this, Miss Maggie had a
very famous flower-garden ; of roses there was no
lack, geraniums and fragrant. heliotrope grew in
friendly neighborhood, and the mounds of verbenas
and gay pansies were a marvel and delight to all.
Maggie loved her flowers, they were her friends,
and many hours of unspoken pleasure were passed
in their sweet and guileless company. ‘
- Maggie L. was not tall, she was not short; she
was not handsome; with regularity of feature she
had no personal acquaintance; but there was such
an expression of sincerity in her face, such’ winning
tones in her voice, that directly you were at heart
erous and impulsive,—such was Maggie at fourteen,
so that her parents often called her ‘their earthly | ‘
treasure.” .
Just now, when the bright years of early girl-
hood were opening to our little friend, a new pleas-
ure filled her heart, and the little lady’s eyes fairly
danced with delight, when first introduced to two
baby brothers. To rock them and watch their baby
slumbers, to quiet their feeble cries and soothe
them with pleasant songs, was now her daily care.
Golden-haired Eddie, with mild, blue. eyes and
snowy skin, was her special delight; such a dreamy
thoughtfulness lingered in every look, that Maggie
* watched him like one entranced. ©
Little Fred, with locks of jet, and dancing black
eyes, was a more general pet; he was stronger, and
better ablé to endure the ills babydom is heir to,
and his long naps and hearty appetite gaye great
comfort all about the house; he could be tumbled
and rolled to.the infinite amusement of himself
hour after hour, evincing entire satisfaction by
divers “crows” and strange bodily evolutions. Thus
passed the spring and summer ; he grew stouter and
healthier, but when the autumnal winds came on,
frail Eddie drooped and faded. Maggie’s anxious
face told of the trouble in her heart, and the un-
spoken love-look of the mother was full of sadness.
After weeks of pain and suffering, the little one
went up to his angel-home; our “treasure in
Tleaven,” Maggie said ; with bitter weepings were
mingled songs of rejoicing, for the little feet
pressed the sods of the dark valley lightly, and un-
consciously almost he “fell asleep.” wo
- Maggie loved her Saviour; she knew that in love
the darling child had been taken, and was now a
heavenly flower, blooming in the Paradise of God,
and that she, too, had a “treasure” in the heavenly | ©
city. .
Eddie’s grassy mound in the quiet village ceme-
tery is daily adorned with fresh flowers, a united
upon the plain white slab is written, ot
“And He called a little child unto Him.”
fe
Five years passed ; our friend Maggie, no longer
achild, had become the cheerful confidante of all
her mother’s cares, and went about the house from
day to day, brightening up all the homely places
with a ready smile and gentle tone; Freddie, a
stout little fellow had grown up into his sister's
heart, and became her valiant helper in many ways.
Did her pansy bed need weeding? no one could 60
skilfully pull out the intruders, and leave the gay
blossoms unharmed. Did the vines droop? no little
fingers could so patiently hold and unravel twine
“for sister to use.” But the “angel-boy” was not
forgotten; “one. treasure on earth, and one in
heaven,” as Maggie often said, and remembrances
of “the loved who had gone before” were still fresh
and beautiful in her heart.
Another summer was opening, the garden was
luxuriating in greenest verdure, clustering vines
and fragrant buds shielded the well-remembered
lattice, the parlor windows were draped in honey-
suckle and morning-glory, and trees heavy with
* foliage waved in every breeze; and now again “the
angel of death” paused at the threshold of Maggie’s
happy home, . It was not, a8 before, the youngest of
the flock, but the aged and gray-hoired sire, the
4
who had long been an inmate of his son’s family,
beloved.and honored of all.
Maggie had, with all the earnestness of her affec-
tionate heart, devoted much of her time to this dear
relative, and sorrowfully she watched the uncon-
scious slumberer from day to day, until the time of
golden harvesting came on, when, like “a shock of |’
corn fully ripe,” he was gathered to the eternal
rest. . -
During the weeks of illness no one could so well
prepare his cooling drinks as Maggie, no one read
so softly, or so gently brush the silvery locks, and
freshment if she read them.
Very gently “the silver cord was loosed ;” even-
ing shadows gathered, and still he slumbered. The
faithful pastor bowed his head in prayer, and earn-
estly besought the Heavenly Friend that conscious-
ness might be restored, if but for one brief mo-
ment; the words of supplication aroused the aged
saint; an audible “Even 80, Father,” was heard
from his lips; and gazing upon the weeping group,
he smiled, and “passed through the gates into the
eternal city ;” litle Freddie’s “give my love to
Eddie” fell unheeded; “heavenly mansions” had
opened to his view, and “a cloud had received him
out of our sight.” ,
And these were Maggie’s “treasures in Heaven.”
‘ ‘ , Fr.
+
HAPPY JOHNNY.
I do not believe there is a happier boy in all the
State than Johnny McBride. Not-that he wears
fine clothes. Why, there is a hole in the elbow of
his jacket so large that you can see his shirt-sleeve
whenever he wears one, which isn’t every day!
Not that he has a pretty face. I read the other
day of a little girl who sat in the corner a whole
half-hour, with a looking-glass in her lap, scowl-
ing and fretting because her nose was so large and
her eyes were so gray! Johnny would not do such
a foolish thing as that; but his face'is by no
means beautiful,-so that cannot be what makes
him happy. Neither does he live ina great house,
nor have fine toys, nor nice things to eat. It must
be something else that makes his face look as ifa
beam of glad, bright sunlight were always resting
upon it. . ,
I meet him sometimes very early in the morning,
and his “Good morning to ye!” is as cheery as if
he were a robin, and lived on cherries! Johnny
and I have formed quite a friendship, so that we
never meet now without a smile and a word,
“Do you go to school, Johnny?” I asked one
a ‘ot now; but I went last winter, and if there’s
no work to be done, I am to go the next.
“Wouldn't you like to go, this summer ?”
“But ye see it's good times Thave at home.”
“Do you? What do you do?”
venerated grandfather, that was stricken down ;, he:
Mos
«0, I takes care of the melons, and:the cabbages,
the words of holy comfort seemed more full of re-
ii
MARGARET OF VALOIS, OR CONVERSION IN A PALACE,
and minds the baby, and takes the cows to pasture,
and brings them back.”
“It’s a long way to pasture; don’t you get tired,
sometimes ?” fe
“When I get very tired, I gets a ride on the cars
back. With Mr. Dale, if you knows him?”— *
Ses.” . = yee
“He lets me ride for nothing, and so I goes
easy.” ° .
Who else would have extracted a good
from crabbed Mr. Dale? :
“But then you have almost as far to walk.”
“Ah, but it’s different, ye know, and so I likes
deed
ft
“You have some brothers and sisters, haven’t
you?” . "o.
“Five, to be sure, (such a smile!) and there's thi
baby not seven months, and he’s good the day
long !” . :
“You love him very much, I suppose ?”
“Yes'r, and he’s one tooth, but he'll soon have
more !”
“Bravo! I’m glad he’s going to have teeth.”
Johnny’s laugh was as free as one might suppose
arobin’s might be. .
Now Johnny is a real philosopher, thought I, as I
heard his merry whistle growing fainter down the
lane. The secret is, he is contented. He doesn’t
say to himself, “O dear! (discontented people are
very apt to say ‘O dear,’) there's the Sullivan boy
has got a dog; I haint got any; and there’s Bob
Ryan goes snaring birds, and I have these old
cows to drive night and morning the year round!”
T'll tell you what he says—that is, if he says any-
thing to himself, and I think he does: “Well, I'd
like to have a bit less work ; but Idon’t see how
it’s to be, for there's father with the carting to do,
and Jim’s the muck to get up, and Pat's the berries
to pull, No, I'll take it easy like, and I guess Ill
have as good time working as Ican. An’ we've
the baby and the rest.” “ :
I think if Johnny tried hard he would be able to
work himself into a cross mood, and make his
brothers and sisters and the little baby very un-
comfortable. I have seen boys do this when they
have a great deal more to'make them content-
ed than Johnny McBride has, or ever will have.
Ihave seen a boy stand snivelling over a stove
fifteen minutes at a time, because his feet happened
to be cold. Ihave seen another boy” go pouting
around the house a whole afternoon, because a
playmate whom he expected did not come.
Do you think such boys will make happy, use-
ful, energetic men? Iam sure they will not, un-
jess they mend their ways. 4
- Johnny McBride is no myth; that is to say, he
isa real, flesh and blood Johnny, and he bide fair
to make a happy and ‘useful man. I do not be-
lieve he will be indolent, either; for he is always
busy now, (and busy people, by the way, are
almost sure to, be happy,), but I think he. will make
ny
22 SCHOOL STREET, BOSTON. .
the best of things all through life, and wear such a
sunny, cheerful face, that he will do good where-
ever he goes.
This Johnny, in his ragged jacket, looks much
better in my eyes than grumbling Eddy Walters,
in his fine spencer and belt, And I doubt ,not,
the Father above, who looks at the heart rather
than the outward appearance, watches over Johnny
McBride with peculiar love, and desires to have
all His children cherish the same spirit of content-
ment—Congregationalist. , .
°
——_+
MARGARL” CF
- In 4
A little more than three hundred years ago the
principles of the reformed religion, now generally
known under the name of Protestantism, or the
Christianity of the Bible, as taught by Christ and
VALOIS, OR CONVERSION
A PALACE.
Luther, a German Roman Catholic monk. Ilis
more or less among the nations of that continent,
giving rise, as the Saviour had predicted, to dis-
putes and dissensions of the bitterest kind. Not
only communities but households became divided
in their religious sentiments ; the father against the
son, the mother against the daughter, and the hus-
band against the wife. Even kings’ palaces were
not exempt from the violent contests, and in many
“instances the most deadly strife took place between
the individual branches of the same royal stock.
Luther's views of religion soon reached France,
which was then under the rule of Francis the First,
one of the most bigoted persecutors of Protestant-
ism that the world has ever seen. But even in the
palace of this cruel and despotic king the truths of
the Bible were not without witnesses. Margaret of
Valois, the king’s sister, soon saw the force of the
Reformer’s arguments, and many a time she would
retire from the ballroom or levee, to meditate on
the evils of her own nature, and to bewail her con-
dition as a sinner in the sight of God.. “O,” she
would .exclaim, “how can my weary soul find any-
thing but vexation in the hollow pleasures of a
court! I have seen their emptiness, and despise
their folly. But how can I avoid them? I am
tied down to a dreadful existence. O, Father of
mercies, send me light, and grant me deliverance.”
One day, while such thoughts as these were pass-
ing through her mind, and wringing her very soul
with the deepest anguish, a gentle tap was heard
at her chamber door. It was a message from the
king, her brother. “A distinguished company had
delay.
What a trial for one under the influence of such
thoughts and feelings! But the princess must be
obedient to the king’s summons. In a few mo-
ments, with her usual grace and dignity, her arms
calmly crossed upon her bosom. The king him-
self advanced a few paces to receive her, and the
next minute she was surrounded by a giddy circle
then to be found in any country in the world.
None but the most practised eye could discern that
in the midst of all this gayety the princess was un-
happy, that her burdened heart would fain be away
amidst other scenes and far nobler exercises. There
were eyes there, however, which saw through the
whole case. , It was those of her late confessor, now
a bishop of great dignity and influence. Once did
Margaret observe the keen eye of this ecclesiastic
fasten upon her with a malignant scowl, which she
returned with one of those calm, quiet, but com-
manding looks, for which the princess was remark-
able. ‘She knew his feelings and intentions towards
her, but putting ‘her trust in God, she felt she could
defy his malignity and designs. .
* Ia an obscure corner of the room, a close ob-
server of all that was passing, stood Margaret’s
confidential adviser, M. de Berquin. As yet Mar-
garet had not observed him, but in moving round
the apartment she speedily recognized ‘the benevo-
lent features of her best eartbly friend. He had
been absent for some weeks from the city, and was
now the bearer of a small packet which he was
charged to deliver into her own hands, It came
cegs in her attachment to the principles of the “new
religion.”
.
ma a
ao. ceo li. sli.
ments she made her entrance into the royal apart-.
of the most gay and frivolous courtiers that was ,
His apostles—began to be preached in Europe by ,
’| views of divine truth, as it is in Jesus, soon spread .
assembled, and her presence was required without
from « clergyman who sympathized with the prin- |
_