sheknew that a parent should not make needless trials for a child. But atthis time she was doing something she could not very well leave. Henceshe had called Minnie.
Minnie did not like to be called away from her lessons, and was for amoment inclined to feel angry. But a glance at her mother checked thewrong feeling, and she stepped up to her mother's side, who said toher,--
"Minnie, go into the bed room and see if baby is asleep. Take yourcousin with you. He wants to look at the baby."
Minnie felt a little pang at her heart for the angry feeling which hadtried to rise up against her mother. So she kissed her, and withoutsaying a word took her cousin by the hand, and went into the bed roomto look at her baby brother. Carefully stepping up to his little cot,she gazed upon his plump, happy face. His eyes were closed, and hislips moved, as if in his dreams he was talking with the angel watcherswho guard an infant's bed. So Minnie knew he was asleep, and returnedwith her report to her mother; after which she resumed her studies,feeling very glad because she had gained another victory over a littletrial of patience and temper.
But Minnie's trials were not all over. Children have their troubles allthrough childhood. Indeed, trouble is like an evil genius, who visitsall parts of the world, peeps in at every house, sits at every table,and meddles with every body. You need not wonder, therefore, thatMinnie, good and gentle though she was, had frequent trials.
This new trial was caused by Lillia. Fanny, Rhoda, and Jeannie had toldthat selfish girl about Minnie's swing, and the fine time they hadenjoyed with her. Lillia was vexed because she was not invited too. Shecould not bear a slight. Her selfish heart always felt galled at theleast neglect from others. So, when Fanny and the other girls told herof Minnie's swing, she said,--
"How did you know that Minnie had a new swing?"
"Why, Minnie told us, to be sure, and invited us to a kind of swingparty."
"Invited you, did she?"
"Yes, she came to our house, and asked us to go with her."
"The hateful creature! Why didn't she invite me? It was only the otherday I took her into my father's arbor, and let her swing all theafternoon."
This was a wicked lie. A selfish child, like Lillia, never regards thetruth. She seeks only to gratify her evil passions, as Lillia did bythis falsehood.
But the girls looked at her as if they doubted her word. It seemed sounlike Minnie to be ungrateful or neglectful of any one, they hardlyknew what to make of it. At length Fanny remarked,--
"I never saw any thing hateful in Minnie."
"And I think Minnie is a very lovely girl," added Rhoda.
"So do I," exclaimed Jeannie. "And if she didn't ask you to her houseafter swinging in your arbor, it was for some good reason, I know,Miss Lillia."
These words were, like coals of fire in Lillia's heart. They reallygave her great pain, and she looked fierce with anger; but keeping downsome of her passion, she said, as calmly as she could speak,--
"You don't know Minnie as well as I do. She is deceitful."
"Minnie Brown deceitful! It can't be!" exclaimed Rhoda.
"Yes, she is one of those smooth sort of folks, who say one thing toyour face and another behind your back," replied Lillia.
"I don't believe that," said Fanny.
"Nor I either," added Jeannie.
"No: I suppose not. You all think Minnie is a little saint, I dare say.But I could tell you something that would change your minds; only Iwon't do it," said Lillia.
"What is it?" asked all the girls, in a breath, their curiosity beingfairly aroused.
"I shan't tell you. If I should, you wouldn't believe it."
"Yes we would. Come, Lillia, do tell us," said Fanny, in a coaxingvoice.
"No I won't."
"She hasn't any thing to tell," observed Rhoda, tauntingly.
"Yes, I have something to tell, too, Miss Rhoda, and it's somethingabout you."
"About me?"
"Yes, about you!"
"And is it about me, also?" asked Fanny.
"Yes."
"And me, too?" asked Jeannie.
"Yes, it's about you all."
"What can it be?" asked they again. Then, drawing closer to Lillia,they said, "Come, dear Lillia, do tell us."
"Well, since you are so anxious, I will tell you. Minnie said to me theother day, that she thought you, Miss Fanny, was a very hateful thing;that Rhoda was a proud thing; and that Jeannie told lies."
The girls now looked at each other with blank surprise; and Fannyasked,--
"Did she say so, truly, Lillia?"
"She did, truly. She told me so down in the garden, the day that shewas with me to try my new swing."
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Fanny. "I should have never thought such athing of Minnie!"
"Nor I," observed Rhoda.
"Nor I," added Jeannie; "and I won't speak to Minnie again."
Upon this, the girls all agreed to treat Minnie with neglect; andhaving spent some time longer with Lillia, they parted, and returned totheir several homes.
The purpose they had formed was a wrong one. They ought not to havebelieved so unlikely a story about Minnie. And if it was clear thatMinnie had said what Lillia charged against her, they ought to havegone to her, and asked her to explain herself. Certainly it was wrongto treat her with contempt, without giving a reason.
It was not long before the innocent Minnie, tripping lightly along thestreet, met Fanny and Rhoda. As usual, she ran towards them with asmile upon her pleasant face, and said,--
"How are you, girls? I am _so_ glad to meet you!"
But the girls turned their faces the other way, and passed on withoutsaying a single word in reply.
Poor Minnie! She was cut to the heart. What her two friends meant bysuch conduct, she could not imagine. So she burst into tears, andwalked back to her home weeping.
On the way, she met Jeannie, who, seeing her in tears, did not pass herin silence, but stepping up to her, said,--
"What is the matter, Minnie?"
It was some time before Minnie could find voice enough to explain thecause of her tears. When she had done so, Jeannie told her all thatLillia had said.
"O," said Minnie, "it was cruel of Lillia to say so."
She then related all that had taken place at Lillia's on the afternoonof her visit to the swing in the arbor, and denied having ever saida word against either Lillia or any of the other girls. Jeannie, whowas quick to perceive the state of things, was satisfied, and tenderlykissing Minnie, said,--
"Never mind, Minnie, I will go and find the girls, and tell them. Iknow they will believe you. Don't cry, dear Minnie; I'll make it allright."
And then she ran off in search of the other girls. But Minnie hurriedhome to tell her sorrow to her mother. Mrs. Brown was out. Looking outat the window, Minnie saw her father seated under the old tree in theyard. She instantly ran out, and leaning her head on his shoulder,sobbed and wept violently.
"What is the matter, my child?" inquired Mr. Brown, in a voice softwith sympathy. Mr. Brown was very fond of his daughter, and was greatlymoved to see her so deeply grieved.
But Minnie only sobbed the louder for some time. At last, she was ableto restrain her tears enough to tell him her troubles. He then soothedher young heart, and told her to remember the little tree and thestorms; and that this was one of the trials which were to fit her toendure the storms of her future life; and he told her she must bear itbravely.
Minnie smiled through her tears. Her heart grew strong again as shethought of that little tree, and she said,--
"I will try, dear pa; but, O, it is hard to have such stories toldabout me, and to have the girls treat me so."
"Yes, Minnie, it is a very severe trial. But, if you bear it bravely,and ask God to make you strong to suffer, and especially if you do notindulge any harsh feeling against Lillia, it will do you good in theend."
Just then some bright eyes were seen peeping through the railing of theyard. Jeannie had found the other girls, and all three of them had c
ometo tell Minnie they did not believe Lillia. Fanny and Rhoda asked herto forgive them for not speaking to her, and promised not to believeill of her any more.
Minnie's eyes grew bright now. The storm was over, and the sun shone inher heart as brightly as ever. Good, kind, gentle Minnie!
The summer, with its bright suns, birds, flowers, fruits, andpleasures, had passed swiftly away. Winter, with its snows, storms,and long evenings, had arrived, and Christmas, merry Christmas, was athand. Minnie, her father and her mother, were seated in the parlor,around a bright wood fire, which blazed and crackled away in goodold-fashioned style. Minnie was busied with a puzzling sum, knittingher little white brow, and pursing her