CHAPTER II.
Spring had come with its soft, warm breezes, the grass was springing upfresh and green, the trees were putting forth their leaves, the woodswere full of violets and anemones, and the little birds, while busybuilding their nests, were filling the air with their happy songs ofpraise. The winter term of school was over; Mr. Burton had left, andthe children had holidays for a few weeks, until it should be time forthe summer school to commence. Ella rejoiced in the return of spring.She had been confined to the house for several weeks, until both sheand her aunt were heartily tired of it, but now she was quite wellagain, and able to run about, and keenly did she enjoy the privilegeof rambling through the woods in search of wild flowers, or working inthe little spot of ground which her aunt had given her in the cornerof the garden, digging up the soft earth and planting roots and flowerseeds; and in these employments she was, to her great delight, allowedto spend most of her time, because, as aunt Prudence said, "She wasglad to get her out of the house, for there was no such thing askeeping it to rights when she was in it."
"Why, Ellie child, what are you doing there?"
It was Mary Young who spoke. She had been taking a walk, and on her wayhome passed through the graveyard, that being her shortest route, andin so doing she had come suddenly and unexpectedly upon Ella, who wasseated upon the ground, with a trowel in her hand and a small basketbeside her. Ella, looking up and showing a face all wet with tears,answered:
"Planting violets on mother's grave."
"And watering them with your tears, you poor little thing," said Mary,sitting down and putting her arms around the child. "Ellie dear, I wishfor your sake, that your mother was alive; that aunt Prudence of yoursisn't very kind to you, is she?"
"No, not like mother was. O Mary, I do want to see my mother so bad,"sobbed the poor child, laying her head on Mary's shoulder, "and auntPrudence says I never will if I don't be good, and I can't be goodwithout mother. Somehow, I'm almost always bad now-a-days."
"Why, Ellie, I don't think you're so very bad. I'm sure you don't telllies like some children I know. You always speak the truth, even whenyou know that you'll be punished. I know you used to play and whisperin school sometimes, and blot your copy-book, or spill ink on yourcopy, or lose your books or pencil, or forget to bring them to school,and I know Mr. Burton used to get very angry, and scold and whip you,and to be sure it was naughty, but I don't think it was so _very_wicked; not half so bad, I'm sure, as telling lies."
"But, Mary, you told me to tell a lie one day when I came late toschool; what made you do that, if you think it is so wicked?"
"Oh, because I didn't like to have you get whipped; I knew Mr. Burtonwould whip you so hard, and besides, I thought it wasn't a very badstory, because it wouldn't do any body any harm--only save you from abeating."
"Yes; but I remember my mother told me never, never to tell a lie;that it was very wicked, even if it didn't do any body any harm. Butthose are not all the naughty things I do, Mary; I'm always forgettingnot to meddle, and always leaving my things about, and then when auntPrudence scolds me, and boxes my ears, I get so angry, I feel as if Icould almost kill her."
"O my! Ellie! that is very wicked; I didn't think you were so bad asthat."
"Yes, I know it's very wicked, for I remember how mother used to talkto me about governing my temper, and that she said, when I got soangry, it was the same as being a murderer; but I can't help it; whenaunt Prudence gets so mad, it always makes me mad too."
"Well, now, I wonder if it isn't just as wicked for her, as it is foryou," said Mary.
"Oh, but she's grown up, you know; and I'm only a little girl."
"Well what of that? The Bible doesn't say big people may get angry, butlittle people mus'n't do it."
"No," said Ella, "I never heard that it did, and I know my mamma didn'tget angry like aunt Prudence, but I never thought about it beingwicked for her. But, O Mary, I wish I had somebody to help me to begood!"
"I would like to help you if I could, Ellie, but I'm just as bad asyou are," said Mary. "I've heard people talking about getting good bypraying, but I never tried it, so I can't tell you how it would do, butperhaps Miss Layton can when she comes."
"Miss Layton! who is she?" asked Ella.
"Haven't you heard about her? she's the new teacher, and they say she'svery pious and good."
"Is she? when is she to come, Mary?"
"Week after next. Aren't you going to school, Ellie?"
"Yes, aunt Prudence says she is tired enough of having me about, and Ishall go as soon as ever school begins again. I hope Miss Layton won'tbe as cross as Mr. Burton was; don't you, Mary?"
"Yes I do, and I know one thing, if she is as cross, she can't be verypious, for the Bible says people ought to be kind and patient, and itsays, 'By their fruits ye shall know them,' so I'm sure if they don'ttry to govern their tempers, they can't be Christians."
"Aunt Prudence is kind about some things, Mary," said Ella, going onwith her work, "she gave me a corner of her garden for my own, and shelets me work in it a great deal, and gives me all the seeds I want, andshe lets me come here whenever I please, though she does think it isvery foolish, and she gave me that rose bush to plant at mother's feet,and sent Jake, our gardener, to plant that willow tree. There I haveplanted all my violets, and I must go now, for it's almost tea time,and aunt Prudence won't like it if I'm late. Won't you call for me onthe first school day, Mary? I don't like to go alone."
"Yes; good bye, Ellie."
"Good bye, Mary."
Ella looked forward to the commencement of school with mingledfeelings. She thought a great deal of what Mary Young had said aboutMiss Layton, and wondered if she were anything like her mamma, and ifshe would really help her to be good. She sometimes felt as if shecould hardly wait for the time to come, that she might satisfy herselfon these points; and sometimes she wished vacation was longer--it wasso much pleasanter to work in her garden, or wander about in the woodsand fields gathering spring flowers, than to be shut up in the schoolroom, and obliged to learn lessons.
The long looked for day had come at last. Nine o'clock was the hour,but Mary and Ella set off for the school room a little after eight,that they might be sure to be in season. It was a lovely morning andthey enjoyed their walk very much. Though it was still quite early whenthey reached the school-house, they found it already half-filled withgirls and boys, some seated on the benches, others collected in littlegroups here and there, talking in whispers to each other, while many acurious glance was sent across the room to the teacher's desk, wheresat a pleasant-looking young lady, with a blank book before her, inwhich she was writing down the children's names.
"Come let's give her our names," said Mary, pulling Ella forwards asshe spoke.
"You are scholars, I suppose," said Miss Layton, looking kindly atthem; "what are your names?"
"Mine is Mary Young, and this is Ella Clinton."
The teacher wrote their names in the book, and then asked where theirparents lived. Mary told her where hers resided, and then said, "Elliehas no parents, but lives with her aunt, Miss Prudence Clinton, in thesame street that we live in."
"So you are an orphan, my poor child!" said Miss Layton, drawing thelittle girl to her, and kissing her cheek, "I know how to pity you, forI am one also; but we have a kind heavenly Father, Ellie, who, if weput our trust in him, will never leave nor forsake us."
Ella's heart was full; no one had ever spoken so kindly to her sinceher mother's death, and she longed to throw her arms around the lady'sneck, and ask her to love her, and teach her to be good; but she was arather timid child, and afraid to venture. She turned hastily away, andwalked to her seat, where she laid her head on her desk, to hide thetears that _would_ come, she hardly knew why.
When Miss Layton had written down all the names, she rung the bell, andthe children took their seats. She waited a moment, until the slightbustle attending the movement was over, and all were quiet; she thensaid, "I wish you all to give me your attentio
n; I have a few wordsto say to you before we begin our school. Dear children, we have mettogether this morning, for the first time as teacher and scholars; mostof your faces I have never seen before; but we expect to spend somemonths in each other's society, and it is very desirable that we shouldbegin and carry on our intercourse in a manner that will make it bothpleasant and profitable to us all. But for any community of people tobe able to live pleasantly together, it is necessary for them to havesome form of government. There must be a head; some one to direct andcontrol, or there will be endless quarrelling and confusion. Now, ina school, that place is naturally and properly filled by the teacher.Your parents, my dear children, have sent you here to be under mycare; it will be my duty to direct your studies, and do all that I canfor your mental and moral improvement, to treat you with kindness andforbearance, and to require of you only such things as are just andreasonable. It will be your duty to obey me, to be kindly affectionedone toward another, and to improve your time by steady industry. Inshort, it will be the duty of each of us, to be 'diligent in business,fervent in spirit, serving the Lord.' God, my dear children, has givento each of us a work to do, and he will take notice of, and one daycall us to account for, the manner in which we perform our allottedtasks. If we are God's children, we will strive to serve and pleasehim; and if we strive to do our duty because we wish to please him,we are really and truly engaged in his service. The more you know, mydear children, the more good you will be able to do in this world; nowis the time for you to gain knowledge, and that is the work which Godhas given you to do; and the work he has given me, is to do all in mypower to assist you in gaining that knowledge, which is to prepare youfor future usefulness. I do not wish you to attend to your studies, asmany children do, from fear of punishment, but from love to God and anearnest desire to please him; and I can assure you that if you act fromthat motive, you will find a great deal of pleasure in the performanceof your duties."
Miss Layton now read a few rules, saying that she should expect themto be strictly observed. She then told the scholars to take out theirTestaments to read, but not expecting to have any call for them, theyhad not brought them; and finding that to be the case, she read a fewverses herself, sung a hymn, and then requested the children to riseand stand a few moments while she offered a short but fervent prayerfor the blessing of God upon their labours. She next proceeded to classthem, and give them their lessons for the day. Everything that theteacher did, was done quietly, without noise or bustle, and it seemednatural for the children to be quiet too, and to most of them the hoursof school passed quickly and pleasantly away.
"Don't you like her, Mary?" said Ella to Mary Young, as they walkedhome together that afternoon.
"Very much so far, Ellie, but people don't always show what they arethe first day."
"Well, I don't believe she'll ever be as cross as Mr. Burton," saidElla.
"I hope not, I'm sure," replied Mary.
Ella was very anxious to secure the esteem and friendship of hernew teacher, and for a week or two learned her lessons so well, andobserved all the rules of the school so carefully, that it seemedas if she had really overcome her bad habits of carelessness andinattention; but alas! it was not so. Miss Layton required her scholarsto learn their lessons at home. They might look them over in school,but that was all. School hours were to be spent principally in writing,ciphering, and reciting.
The first week, Ella was very careful to learn her lessons perfectlybefore she went out to play, or to work in her garden; but one bright,warm afternoon in the latter part of the second week, she found it somuch pleasanter out of doors, than in the house, that she determined totake a walk first, intending to get her lessons afterwards. Her walktook more time than she expected, and she found some wild flowers,which she admired so much that she dug them up and carried them hometo plant them in her garden, saying to herself that it would not takelong, and she would still have time for her lessons; but she wassurprised in the midst of her employment, by a call to supper, andthen a play mate came in to spend the evening and stayed until Ella'sbedtime, and as she knew it would be worse than useless to attempt topersuade aunt Prudence to allow her to sit up any longer, she went tobed, with the determination to rise early and learn her lessons in themorning. But when morning came, she found her bed so comfortable thatshe slept on until she had barely time to dress for breakfast; thenafter breakfast her aunt sent her on an errand, and it was school timebefore she could look at her books.
Ella was very much alarmed, for Miss Layton required very perfectrecitations, and expected her scholars to be very punctual in theirattendance. She hurried off to school, got there barely in time, andthen discovered that she had left her spelling book and geography athome. Then her slate pencil was missing. She was sure she had eitherput it in her pocket, or laid it in the corner of the desk, the nightbefore, but in vain she lifted everything in the desk and turned herpocket inside out. The missing pencil was nowhere to be found.
The spelling class was called. Ella missed the first word that came toher, then the second. "Ella," said Miss Layton, "how many times did yougo over your lesson?"
Ella hung her head and made no answer.
Miss Layton repeated her question.
"I didn't learn it at all," replied Ella, in a low voice.
"Then go to your seat," said her teacher, "and never come to me torecite a lesson that has not been learned, and remember that at thenext recitation you take your place at the foot of the class."
Ella obeyed, feeling very much ashamed. The geography class was callednext, but, remembering what had been told her, she sat still in herseat.
"Ella," said Miss Layton, "why do you not come to your class?" "Ihaven't learned the lesson, Miss Layton," said Ella.
Miss Layton said nothing further at the time, but looked very muchdispleased. It was now the hour for ciphering; all the other girls tookout their slates and pencils, and were soon busily engaged. Ella alonesat idle. Mary Young handed her a pencil, but just then Miss Laytoncame up and asked, "Why are you not at work, Ella?"
"I've lost my slate pencil, ma'am."
"She can take this one of mine," said Mary Young; "I've got two."
"No," said Miss Layton, "that is against the rules; I allow noborrowing nor lending. As Ella has been so careless as to lose herpencil, she must sit idle while the rest are at work, and Ella, youmust remain in after school, and tell me how it happens that you haveso strangely failed in your lessons to-day."
Ella burst into tears. She felt very much ashamed, and veryuncomfortable sitting there doing nothing while all the rest werebusily employed. Sallie Barnes, who had borne a great dislike to Ella,ever since the affair of the broken inkstand, when she came so nearbeing punished for her fault, was sitting opposite, and presently whenMiss Layton was not looking that way, she began pointing her fingers atElla, and shaming her. Ella was crying and Sallie mimicked her. Ellabegan to grow very angry. Sallie continued her teasing until at last,in a transport of rage, Ella picked up a book and dashed it across ather tormentor. She missed her aim and the book fell on the floor. MissLayton saw it fall, but did not see who threw it.
Rising from her seat, she crossed the room, and asked, "Who threw thatbook?"
"Ella Clinton," said Sallie Barnes; "she threw it at me."
"Did you, Ella?"
"Yes, ma'am; and I'll throw another at her, if she doesn't quitpointing at me and mocking me," said Ella, passionately.
"Ella," said her teacher, sternly, "you are showing a very wickedtemper. Go and sit down on that bench near my desk; and you, Sallie,tell me what you were doing to her."
"I didn't do anything," replied Sallie.
"Take care, Sallie; are you sure you are speaking the exact truth?"said Miss Layton.
"I didn't touch her, nor say a word to her," said Sallie.
"Sallie, answer me immediately and properly. You certainly did dosomething to Ella; what was it?"
"I was only shaming her a little, because she sat there crying j
ustlike a great baby."
"You did very wrong, indeed," said Miss Layton.
"I'm sure I didn't hurt her," said Sallie, sullenly.
"Yes, you did, Sallie," replied her teacher, "you hurt her feelings:and that is often harder to bear than bodily pain. I shall punish youby making you stand out on the floor fifteen minutes."
School had seldom seemed so long to Ella, and yet she was almost sorryto hear Miss Layton say, "School is dismissed;" so much did she dreadbeing left alone with her justly offended teacher. Miss Layton sat ather desk, reading, until the other scholars had all gone, and she wasleft alone with Ella; then, closing her book, she called the littlegirl to her.
"Ella," said she, taking her hand and drawing her close to her side,"you have had very good lessons, and behaved very well all the timethat I have been your teacher, until to-day. Now, tell me, my child,how it happens that to-day you have behaved so badly, and recited sopoorly."
Miss Layton spoke very kindly, and Ella felt encouraged to open herheart to her, and tell her the whole truth; how she had put offlearning her lessons, first for one thing, then for another, untilthere was no time to do it, and then, in her haste to get to school inseason, had forgotten her books.
"I am glad, Ella," said Miss Layton, when the child had finished herstory, "that you have told me the truth, instead of trying to contrivefalse excuses. I can forgive anything sooner than falsehood, for thatis so very wicked. But you have been guilty of several very seriousfaults, Ella. Your first wrong step was preferring pleasure to duty.There is an old saying which I think is very true, 'Procrastination isthe thief of time.'"
"What does procrastination mean, Miss Layton?" asked Ella, "I don'tthink I know exactly."
"It means deferring, delaying, or putting off until another time whatought to be done now. When we have a duty to perform, we should alwaysattend to that first, and take our pleasure afterwards. But your worstfault to-day, Ella, was getting into such a dreadful passion. Don't youknow, my dear child, that the Bible tells us that, when we indulge inangry passions, we break the sixth commandment, which says, 'Thou shaltnot kill?'"
"Yes, ma'am, I know that; my mother used to tell me so, and I oftenthink I never will get angry again, but I can't help it, when anybodyteases me."
"No, Ella, if you trust in your own strength, you certainly cannot;but, my dear child, if you ask help of God, he will enable you to doit. I am afraid that you forgot to ask God this morning, to keep youfrom sin through the day, and if so, it is no wonder that you havebehaved so wickedly."
"I did say my prayers this morning, Miss Layton," said Ella; "mammatold me I must always do it, and I always do."
"Ah, but, my child, did you really pray? did you think of the meaningof the words you were saying, and really desire what you were askingfor? did you pray with your heart, or was it with your lips only?"
Ella hung her head. "I was in a hurry," she said in a low tone, "andsaid them very fast, for fear I wouldn't be ready for breakfast."
"Oh Ella, were you not afraid to approach the great God in thatirreverent manner?" said Miss Layton. "Did you forget that, 'God is aspirit; and they that worship him, must worship him in spirit and intruth?' It is mocking the great God, when you repeat a form of prayerwith your lips, while you are not praying in your heart, and that isa dreadful sin. The Bible tells us: 'By their fruits ye shall knowthem,' and you, Ella, have shown by your actions this day, that you area child of wrath, even as others; that you have a very wicked heart--aheart at enmity with God; and, Ella, unless your heart becomes changed,you can never be fit to dwell with him; you would not be happy in hispresence--in the presence of Him who is of purer eyes than to beholdsin, and cannot look upon iniquity--even if allowed to go where heis; and every moment that you remain as you are, you are in danger oflosing your immortal soul. O Ella, pray earnestly to God, to give you anew heart, for he alone can do it."
Ella was crying very bitterly. "O Miss Layton," said she, "will youask God to forgive me, and to give me a new heart, and help me to prayright?"
"I will, my dear child," replied her teacher, and kneeling down, withher arm around the weeping child, she offered a short but earnestprayer, asking her heavenly Father to forgive the sins of that day andof all their lives, asking him to give the child a new heart--a hearthating sin and loving holiness, and to teach her to love prayer, and topray aright.
"O, Miss Layton! You are more like my mamma, thananybody else."
p. 59.]
They rose from their knees, and Ella, throwing her arms around herteacher's neck, exclaimed, "O Miss Layton, you are more like my mammathan anybody else; nobody has ever prayed for me since she died, and Ihave so wanted somebody to help me to be good. You will help me now,won't you, dear Miss Layton?"
"I will do all I can, Ella," replied her teacher, returning theembrace, "but, my dear child, no one but God can really help you to begood. Promise me that you will every day ask him to help you."
"I will," said Ella, "and I will try to pray with my heart. But, MissLayton, aunt Prudence says it is no use for such a wicked child as Iam to pray; she says God won't hear me, and I would have stopped, but Iremembered mother told me always to pray, and I thought she knew best."
"Your mother was right, Ella," said Miss Layton, "for unless you pray,you will certainly never grow any better. Jesus said, 'I came not tocall the righteous, but sinners to repentance.' But come, my dear, itis getting late; you may put on your bonnet now, and get your bookstogether, and we will go home."
"I'm glad you go my way, Miss Layton, so I don't have to go alone,"said Ella.
"Don't you like to walk alone, Ella?"
"No, ma'am, I always want somebody to talk to."
Miss Layton locked the school-house door, and taking Ella's hand theywalked slowly homewards.
"How long is it since your mother died, Ella?" asked Miss Layton.
"A whole year, Miss Layton. Oh it seems such a long, long while, and Ido want to see her so much!"
"Your mother must have been a very good woman, I think, Ella."
"O yes, Miss Layton, she was so, _very_ good! I never saw her do anything wrong; but when I used to tell her so sometimes, she always said,no, she was not good, she was a miserable sinner."
"And she was quite right, Ella, for the best of mortals are in thesight of God but vile, polluted sinners. The Bible tells us 'they haveall gone out of the way; there is none that doeth good, no not one.'But I trust your mother was a true Christian: one who loved God, andtried to serve him. She seems to have taken a great deal of pains withyou, and I hope you remember her instructions. I hope you are a goodgirl at home, Ella."
Ella was wiping away her tears. She never could talk much of hermother without crying. "No, Miss Layton," said she, "aunt Prudence saysI am the worst child she ever saw, and I know I'm very naughty; butit's no use to try to be good, for I can't do it. I used to be goodwhen my mother was living, but I can't be good without her to help me."
"Ah, Ella, that is quite a mistake. Your mother could not make yougood, if she were here, for she could have no power to change yourheart, and make you hate the evil, and love the good. God alone can dothat, and though your mother has been taken away from you, he is everliving, and ever present, and if you ask him for help--ask with yourheart, and for Jesus' sake--he will hear and help you."
"But, Miss Layton, I _was_ a pretty good girl when my mother was alive;even aunt Prudence says so."
"That may be so, but I think it was only because you had not so manytemptations to do wrong. Your mother probably knew better how to manageyou, and keep you out of the way of temptation, than your aunt does;but you had the same wicked heart then that you have now, and if youbehaved well only because you had no temptation to do otherwise, youwere not _really_ any better than you are now. God looks not merely atthe outward conduct, but at the _heart_, at the _motives_, and unlessyou do right from a desire to serve and honour him, he can see nothinggood in you. Ask him, my dear child, to give you right feelings, an
dright motives, and to help you to perform every duty from an earnestdesire to please him."