Golden Moments Part 20

"You musn't be too anxious about the prize, Dolly, darling," said her mother, noticing the tired face, "or I am afraid you will fall ill from worry. I am quite glad to think the breaking-up party is to-morrow.

Mind, dear, I shall not be disappointed if you fail. I can trust my child, and I know she has done her best."

Dolly flushed crimson. Her mother trusted her, and imagined she knew every thought of her childish heart. How little mother knew the misery Dolly was enduring!

All was excitement at the school. The prize-giving only took place once a year, and many and great were the hopes and fears on that eventful day. Some girls were of opinion that Dolly would carry off the coveted prize, others that she had lost ground of late, and failed utterly.

Dolly, quite aware of her shortcomings, was yet vaguely longing for success. Her rival in the cla.s.s was older and cleverer than herself, but without the perseverance that characterized Dolly, therefore Dolly hoped on until the prize-giving began.

Everything pa.s.sed as in a dream, until Dolly's cla.s.s was mentioned, when Miss Danvers, the head mistress, in a short speech declared that the prize had been won, after a severe struggle, by Lucy Trevor. At the same time she was giving a special prize, because of the good conduct and perfect uprightness and truth of the unsuccessful compet.i.tor. This prize she awarded to Dolly Ferrars. She held up a beautiful Bible, bound in white vellum.

"This is the prize of honor," she said.

Dolly's heart stood still. She had forgotten her disappointment about the cla.s.s prize in an overwhelming sense of shame.

"Go up, Dolly," said mother proudly.

"I can't," said Dolly. "I--I--"

"Go on, darling," said mother, gently pushing her. And Dolly went.

In silence she accepted the Bible, and laid it on her mother's knee.

"I am so tired," she said.

"We will go now," whispered mother. "The excitement has been too much for you."

They slipped quietly away and returned home.

"Mother!" cried Dolly, as they were alone. "Oh, mother dear, I can't take that prize, I don't deserve it. I have failed in truth and honor. I am so miserable!"

Mrs. Ferrars, bewildered at Dolly's words, soothed her while she poured out the story of her conduct on the ice.

"And I have no right to the prize," she said. "What shall I do?"

"We will return it to Miss Danvers," said mother, gently; "at least for a time." She looked very pale and sad. "But, darling," she added, as she folded Dolly in her arms, "if you are really sorry and have through repentance learned to conquer in the fight between right and wrong, you are still a winner of the true prize of honor!"

The WAVES.

A pert little wave by the sea-sh.o.r.e one day, Came dashing along in its impudent way; A wee little maiden was straying too near.

Said the wavelet--I'll catch you my child, never fear, "I will carry you home to a bed in the sea, "I will rock you as snug as on Mother's own knee."

But the child answered merrily, Mother is near, "So dash away, splash away, I do not fear "Dash away, splash away, back to the sea, "Mother is keeping her watch over me."

A cruel wave rolled o'er the night clouded sea, And the sailors were fearful as e're they could be, The vessel lay tossing, the north wind blew drear, Said the wave, "I will rock you to sleep, never fear,"

But a brave tar looked up, with a light in his eye, And a swift prayer was sent thro the threatening sky To his heart came the answer, in voice, sweet and clear, "Ye shall weather the tempest true heart, never fear."

Splash away, dash away, danger is past, The vessel is anch.o.r.ed, in harbour at last.

M. I. H.

A LABOR OF LOVE.

"Oh, Claude, do look at that poor woman! Doesn't she look ill! I don't believe she can drag that great pail of salt water up the beach. There, she's let it drop! all the water is spilt, and she is leaning against the boat. I must go and see if I can help her."

So spoke kind-hearted little Elsie, but Claude pulled her back.

"Don't, Elsie! The woman will be all right directly, and we don't know anything about her."

"But she's in trouble," urged Elsie. "See how she trembles, and you know, Claude, what we heard on Sunday at the catechising."

Claude could not but remember, for it was only yesterday that the clergyman had told his little hearers to try and sympathize with any one in trouble. "Let them realize by your sympathy that you remember that we are all one great family--all one in Christ."

So he let go of Elsie's hand, and she went up to the half-fainting woman and asked her if she wanted anything.

"No, thank you," said the woman, looking gratefully at her little bare-legged questioner (Elsie was in her sh.o.r.e dress--or rather undress--and with tucked-up petticoats and huge sun-bonnet was supposed to be secure from any evil effects of either water or sun). "I shall be better presently," she continued; "it's only my side; it hurts me so when I fetch the salt water. It's for the little invalid boy at the Red House there. I'm his nurse, and the doctor has ordered a salt-water bath for him every day, and it hurts me to drag the water up this steep beach; only I don't want any one there to know it, as they might send me away as not strong enough, and I must earn money, for I've a sick mother at home."

"Oh, I know we can help you in that," cried Elsie. "You sit still, and let me carry your empty pail to the top of the beach; it's only a step from there to the Red House, and then we'll bring our little pails full of water and soon fill yours."

The nurse would have remonstrated, but Elsie had run off with the pail, and she really felt too ill to follow her.

The tide was low that morning, and the salt water lay beyond a good stretch of sand, so that Elsie had no light work before her; and after the sands, there was the steep beach to climb, and somehow when she was at the top her bucket seemed to have but little water in it. However, she toiled bravely to and fro, and Claude, who would not help at first, was touched by her industry. Of course, he would not own to such feelings, and indeed was too proud, saying to Elsie that she was spilling half her water! "Here, _I'll_ show you how to carry a bucket!"

And after that he worked with her, and with Claude's big bucket the pail was soon filled. By this time the nurse was better, and able to carry the pail across the road into the Red House.

"I'll never forget your kindness as long as I live," she gratefully declared. "I might have been your own sister by the way you've behaved to me."

"How funny of her to say that," whispered Elsie to her brother; "it seems as though she must have been at the catechising too. Perhaps she knows we ought to try to be all one in Christ."

And Claude, boy-like, only nodded his a.s.sent.

CHESTNUTS.

Ben was visiting his cousin Hugh in the country, and they had been having a glorious time getting chestnuts. They started early in the morning, taking their dinners with them that they might have all day in the woods. There had been a sharp frost the night before, and the boys had a merry time as the wind rattled the brown chestnuts down on their heads. Bags and pockets were soon full to overflowing, and after eating their lunch by the brook they started for home.

"Now for a feast of roast chestnuts," said Ben, as they sat down by the fireplace, after the good warm supper which Hugh's mother had ready for them. "I will roast them and you can pull off the sh.e.l.ls when they are done."

What fun it was to see the nuts jump around in the shovel Ben was using for a roaster, till their brown sh.e.l.ls burst open with the heat!

"We will roast a whole bagful," said Hugh, "then there will be some for sister Lucy."

To be sure, Hugh burnt his fingers, and Ben dropped some chestnuts into the fire, but they only laughed the merrier. Lucy joined them after she had finished helping her mother with the work, and together they ate the chestnuts and played games till bedtime came, when they all agreed it had been one of the happiest days of their lives.