Fireside Stories for Girls in Their Teens Part 2

A PARABLE OF GIRLHOOD

Behold a girl went forth to walk on the highway leading to life. And as she walked there grew up beneath her feet flowers of every kind and color.

"Ah!" she said, "I will gather a sheaf of flowers to carry with me, for then, surely, I shall be welcome when I come to the gate at the end of this way. I will gather what seemeth to me to be the most beautiful of all the flowers that grow about me. They shall be my gift to the one who guards the way."

And as she plucked, the one that seemed to be most wonderful was the one most bright, gleaming yellow as the sun. "It is yellow like gold," she said. "If I come with the sign of gold, I shall be welcome. I will pluck it everywhere I can and carry only yellow flowers." And soon her arms were full, but somehow her fingers seemed hot and unpleasant and her arms were heavy, so she dropped some by the way and carried only those that seemed most desirable.

But some were blue--blue as the sky. "Blue for blue blood," she said.

"Those of royal birth are always to be desired. I shall make my sheaf largely of blue." So she added one here and another there till she was satisfied that the sheaf would be of all the sheaves the most beautiful.

But the odor was sickening, and again one after another was dropped till only a few remained.

And some flowers there were in the path that were red. "One needs fewer of these," she said, "but surely some must be red. I shall put red flowers for courage where they shall be seen, for courage is of all the virtues to be desired." But there were thorns on the red flowers and, try as she would, she could not hide the thorns so that they might not pierce her flesh. So there could be few of the red in the sheaf.

Some plants there were that bore no blossoms but the leaves were beautiful, so she added leaves of this and of that, even though she knew that in some there was deadly poison. "I can hide it among the rest. It is so beautiful that it must be a part of my sheaf," thought the girl.

But along the way, there had been many flowers that had been pa.s.sed unnoticed. White they were. Often they were small but always they were pure and sweet. Only once had she plucked one and then she had added it because of its fragrance. "Oh, yes," she said, "I know white is for purity but white flowers are old-fashioned. Of course I must have a few but many would spoil my sheaf. It must be bright with color."

So the days flew by and her sheaf was nearly complete. She had thought it the most beautiful thing she could possibly make. But one day as she walked, suddenly she saw, standing erect by the road, a beautiful, stately lily. Its beauty startled her. She stooped to smell of its fragrance. Then she glanced from it to the flowers in her sheaf.

If she plucked the lily and tried to place it in the sheaf, its beauty would be spoiled. What should she do? With all her heart she longed to take the lily with her to the end of the way. Should she throw the rest away? Would she be welcome with only the one flower? Long she hesitated.

Then she laid the yellow, and the blue, and the red, and the rest aside and carefully gathered it. So in her hand she carried the lily with the petals of pure white and the heart of gold.

And lo, she had come to the stile which endeth the way of girlhood.

There, standing guard over the way ahead, was a woman in white, holding by the hand a tiny, little child. Looking straight into the eyes of the girl, she said sweetly,

"Welcome, my child, from the beautiful way of girlhood. What hast thou brought as thy gift to coming generations?"

Then the girl feared to answer. But she held the lily toward the little child as she said, "I have brought purity and a heart of gold."

"Thou hast done well," said the mother spirit. "Take thou the child as thy reward. With this as thy gift, thou art worthy to enter the way of motherhood. Lo, here are some of the flowers that were left by the way.

Well may they go with thee, for they are very beautiful. But the gift that thou didst choose was far more valuable and beautiful than they. It was the gift that the Great desire."

Then the girl and the child went together into the new way. But the child was carrying the gift and she smiled as she went.

THE HOUSE OF TRUTH

It was plain to be seen that Bess Keats was very much disturbed about something. She sat in the couch hammock on the porch, talking to herself and occasionally giving a sharp punch to the sofa pillow by her side.

"Mother is so old-fashioned," she said to herself, "and she gets worse every year. Last year she wouldn't let me wear the kind of dresses I wanted to and I looked different from the rest of the girls all the year.

Then she wouldn't let me go camping with the party because only one mother was going to take care of us. Surely one woman can take care of twenty boys and girls. Of course I was glad I hadn't gone when they had the accident and partly burned the cottage, but she wouldn't let me go just because she had old-fashioned notions. Girls these days don't do as they did when she was young.

"I just can't see a reason in the world why I shouldn't invite Henry Mann to take me to the leap-year party at the beach. Every girl in the crowd is asking a fellow to take her. Of course if George were here, mother might let me go with him; but he isn't and all the girls want Henry to go because he spends his money in such a dandy way; so I said I would invite him to take me, never thinking for a minute that mother would object. And now she says, not only that I can't ask him, but that I can't go. Well, I will, anyway. So there! I just will go."

Then Bess pushed her head far down in the pillow to think out a way. If grandmother were only alive she would help her. She had always found a way to get what Bess wanted. But grandmother was dead and Bess must work it out alone, so she began to think.

Suddenly she heard a voice saying,

"Why, Bessie dear, whatever is the matter? You look very unhappy. Tell me all about it."

And there was grandmother with the neat, black silk dress and the dainty white collar, and even the pretty white ap.r.o.n that she used to wear. Oh!

Oh! how glad Bess was to see her!

Hand in hand, they went away from the house to where the trees in the orchard were bending with fruit, and, sitting there on a stone, Bess told her all about her trouble. Whatever would the girls think of her when she had promised to invite the boy they all wanted? And after she had told it every bit, she squeezed grandma's hand very hard and said,

"And now, Granny dear, you will help me, won't you? It is perfectly all right to ask him for all the girls do it. I want him to take me."

"Well, well, dear," said the grandmother, "if we find that it is all right, I shall be glad to find a way to help you. But we must see. We must see."

"See what, grandmother?" asked the girl. "There is nothing to see."

"Indeed there is, child," said Granny. "In times of trouble one must always see the Truth. Then the way is easy. After I see the Truth, I shall be able to tell what to do. Come and we shall soon find out. You see you belong to my family and my family is proud of the fact that its girls have all been ladies. So we must go to the keeper of the book and see what a lady can do in this case."

On and on they went till they came to a queer little old man standing before a big, big book. Granny went daintily up to him and said,

"Will you tell me if it is ever right for a young lady to ask a strange young man to take her to a dance, and pay out his money for her, when he has not even been to her home or met her mother? My grandchild says all the girls do it, so I suppose it must be a new thing that has been written in the book since I was a girl. I want her to be sure to be a lady, so before I help her to ask the boy to take her, I want you to look for the rule."

The little old man began slowly to shake his head but he never said a word. He just looked and looked and looked. His finger went up one page and down another. Finally he looked straight at Bess and said to Granny,

"Your granddaughter is mistaken. That is not done by ladies. It is not here. It is not here."

"Oh, you are old-fashioned just like my mother," began Bess. "It may not be there but it is true just the same that all ladies do it nowadays."

"Hush, child," said Granny. "What is written there is true--but it is only half the truth even then. Let us go and see the rest. If it is right for you to ask him, then let us see the truth about the boy. Is he one that our family would like to have specially chosen for your friend? We must know about him."

"Oh, Granny, he is all right. He doesn't study much and he doesn't do what mother believes is right on Sunday. But he has a car, and a motor boat, and he is all right. Let me ask him," begged Bess.

"Tut, tut, child," said Granny. "Perhaps you do not know. This is the House of Truth and we can tell."

Then they entered a very large house and Granny walked to a man who stood near the door.

"May I go to the M room?" she asked, with a smile.

"I will show you the way, lady," said the man, and Bess noted how the man had spoken the word "lady." Somehow every one knew as soon as they looked at Granny that she was a lady. 'Twas very strange!

Down a long hall they went and then they stood before a large wall of mirrors. What a strange place this was! Before them in the mirror were many, many men and boys, all struggling to get up a very steep hill. Some had a few strings ahead of them to help them up and many, many strings behind that were pulling them back to the foot of the hill. Others had only a few in back and many in front. Some were hopelessly entangled and seemed not able to move. Who were they and what were they doing?

Curiosity led Bess to study the scene in front of her. On the very top of the hill there was a bright sign, "Christian Manhood." This, then, was the thing for which they were struggling. But what were the strings? She pushed and reached but she just couldn't read the words.

"Did you want to know the truth about a friend?" said a voice. "I will gladly help you for you are young and need to know. I am old and to know the truth may only make me more unhappy. Take my place." And she was given a nearer stand.

Now she could read the words on the strings that held the men back. One said "Drink" and another "Bad Companions," and another "Bad Temper." Bess was very much interested, so she began to study the faces of the men who were pushing to the top.