Great Mysteries And Little Plagues Part 11

"In Bethlehem."

"Where is Bethlehem?"

"In Judea."

"Who first knew that Christ was born?"

"His mother."

No. 179. _As the Spirit moveth._--A little Quaker boy, about six years old, after sitting, like the rest of the congregation, in dead silence, all being afraid to speak first, as he thought, got up on the seat, and folding his arms over his breast, murmured, in a sweet, clear voice, just loud enough to be distinctly heard on the fore-seat, "I do wish the Lord would make us all gooder--and gooder--and gooder--till there is no bad left." Would a longer prayer have been more to the purpose?

No. 180. _A Non Sequitur._--"What have you done with your doll, Amy?"

"Lock it up, papa; doin' to teep it for my itty dirl, when I get big, jess like mamma." "Ah, but if you shouldn't have any little girl?"

"Never mind, papa--then I'll dive it to my _g'an'chile_."

No. 181. _A Young Protestant._--Not long ago, as a crowd of foreigners were presented to the Pope, a little American boy, between four and five years of age, was led up with the rest. The Pope seemed pleased with the bright-eyed little fellow, and lifted his foot somewhat higher than usual, that the boy might more conveniently kiss the cross embroidered upon the toe of his sandal. The boy did not seem to relish the proposition. Drawing himself up, he looked His Holiness full in the face, and said, with emphasis, "_No sir, I won't do it!_" The Americans and English who were present hardly knew which way to look; but the Pope only smiled good-humoredly, and exclaimed, _Americano_!

The venerable man is said to be "very fond of children, and very indulgent," having none of his own, and no nephews or nieces, _to speak of_.

Not long ago, the little son of an architect employed on certain alterations of St. Peter's Basilica, for a coming festival, was sent by the father to His Holiness, with drawings and specifications. The Pope was so much pleased with the plans, and with the sprightliness of the little messenger, that he led him to a secretary, opened a drawer full of gold pieces, and told him to help himself. "Holy Father," said the little scapegrace, "what if you take 'em and give 'em to me--your hand is bigger than mine." The Pope smiled, and took advantage of the suggestion. So says our "Parisian correspondent."

No. 182. _Another Word for a Blow._--A little boy and girl were playing on the road-side among the clover-blossoms and b.u.t.ter-cups. The boy, who seemed about five, suddenly took offence, and gave his little playmate, who was still younger, a smart slap on the cheek. She turned away, and sat down in the long gra.s.s, and began to cry. At first, the poor boy seemed cross and sulky, as if determined to brave it out, but after a minute or two his beautiful eyes changed color, his mouth trembled, and he said, "I didn't mean to hurt you, Katy, darling--I am sorry." The little rosy face brightened up--the sobs were hushed. "Well, then, if you are sorry," said she, "_it don't hurt me_."

No. 183. _Just as the Twig is bent, etc. etc._--In order to amuse the children of a sabbath-school, the teacher began reading to her cla.s.s the story of David and Goliah; and coming to the pa.s.sage where Goliah so boastingly dared the stripling shepherd-boy to enter the list, a little chap, newly breeched, up and said to her, "Skip that! skip that! He's blowin'--I want to know who licked."

No. 184. And only yesterday the following ill.u.s.tration of my text happened in Fore-Street. Near Gorham's Corner, two little boys had set themselves in battle-array against a third, somewhat larger. They were all in petticoats, by the way. At last one of the two stepped a little in advance of his companion, and bending his arm like a prize-fighter, sung out, "D'ye see that! jess feel o' that air muscle!" The arm appeared about the size of a turkey's leg, while he was manipulating the biceps; and the countenance that of a trained pugilist. As the bigger boy stepped up to _feel that muscle_, the little fellow let fly, and sent him head over heels into the gutter, petticoats and all.

No. 185. _The Gates Ajar._--"Our five-year-old," says a neighbor, "stood looking at the new moon a night or two ago. After a long and thoughtful pause, he turned to his mother and whispered, 'Mamma, O mamma! Dod has opened the door a little way.'"

No. 186. _Inferential._--A mother, who had with her a little daughter, was examining the figure of a horse on a tomb-stone, and wondering what on earth it was an emblem of. There was nothing to explain it, in the inscription. "Mamma," said the little one, as they moved away, "I shouldn't wonder if she died of the _nightmare_."

No. 187. _Capital!_--Just before Washington's birthday, in February last, a teacher, while notifying the cla.s.s, and preparing them for the holiday, said something to the purpose, about the Father of his Country, and then put the question,--

"Why should we celebrate Washington's birthday any more than _mine_?"

"Because _he never told a lie_!" shouted a young whippersnapper near the door. But as he didn't vanish, probably he didn't mean it. He had only read Weems's "Life of Washington" to advantage, and didn't care who knew it.

No. 188. _Save the Pieces!_--At Winchester, N.H., last winter, a girl of ten, the daughter of O. L. Howard, coasted over a bank twenty feet high, into the Ashuelot river. While on the way she was heard saying to herself, "I'm afraid I shall lose my sled!" But she didn't, and was none the worse for her ducking, though rather damp.

No. 189. _Sublime._--A cowardly scamp, though fashionably dressed, having kicked a poor little newsboy, for trying to sell him a paper, the lad hove to, till another boy accosted the "gentleman," and then shouted, in the hearing of all the bystanders, "It's no use to try him, Joe--he can't read."

No. 190. _Constructiveness._--The Belfast Journal renders an account of a young auth.o.r.ess in that neighborhood, who, at the age of nine, has written the opening chapter of a sensation story. Two of the characters are described as twins, one five, and the other six years old.

No. 191. _Boston Notions._--The rector of a parish in Toledo, Ohio, was lately catechizing the children of his Sunday-school, and asked, "Where did the wise men come from?" "_From Boston!_" shouted a little wretch, at the top of his voice. Upon further inquiry, it was found that both father and mother were of the Bay-State faith.

No. 192. _Timely Preparation._--The Lewiston Journal says that a little four-year-old, while standing by her teacher on examination-day, after having spelt cat, dog, ox, cow, and some other monosyllables, suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hed at the teacher's watch-guard, and whispered, "Please, mayn't I be 'smissed after my cla.s.s gets through readin', so 't I can run home an' get my hair _fizzled_ for the 'mittee?" Whereupon the teacher 'smissed her.

No. 193. _Conscience-money._--A Sunday-school teacher was in the habit of pa.s.sing round the hat among the little folks, for missionary purposes. One day, he was thrown all aback, on finding a counterfeit shilling among the coppers. Diligent inquiry being had, the little reprobate, who was only expected to give a penny, but an honest penny, was found out. "Georgie," said the teacher, with great seriousness, "didn't you know it was good for nothing?" "To be sure I did," muttered the boy. "Then why did you put it into the box?" "Well, I didn't 'spose the little heathens would know the difference, and so I thought it would be just as good for them."

No. 194. _Combativeness._--"Look here, mister!" sung out a lad of seven, who had been treed by a ferocious dog; "if you don't call that dog off, I'll eat up all your peaches!"

No. 195. _Childish Faith._--A little fellow with his first pocket-knife, had it in use most of the time, for several days, occasionally lending it to his playmates, "just to whittle with." One evening, after he had been got ready for the night, and was kneeling by his mother's lap in his night-gown, he finished off the usual service of "Now I lay me,"

with a "please G.o.d give little Jemmy Bailey a knife of his own, so't he won't have to borrow mine all the time."

No. 196. _A Good Lesson for Mothers._--A bright-eyed, active little fellow, who in due time made his way up to the desk, used to beset his mother, in season and out of season, for a coat like his elder brothers, with pockets behind. To all his importunities, the reply was--"Don't be in a hurry; you are a little boy,--little boys don't wear such coats.

When you get to be a man, you shall have a coat with pockets behind."

After awhile the boy had to go to the springs for his health; but he shuddered and shrank away from the cold bath. "Why, Charley, you are a man--you shouldn't be afraid."

"O yes, I understand," was the reply; "when I want pockets behind, I am only a little boy; and now that you want me to go in here--_now_, I am a man."

No. 197. _Funeral Ceremonies._--The San Francisco correspondent of a Sacramento paper tells the following: "A little friend of ours found among the gifts of Santa Claus a plump little waxen-doll. She christened it Maud, and used to take it out for a walk, every pleasant morning. The other day, on seeing a rag of orange-colored merino pinned to a stick by the nursery-door, I peeped in at the children, but was immediately served with notice to quit, by Bobby, who seemed to be the doctor, or a health committee-man; for 'Maud was tooken dreadful bad with the small-pox, and the yeller flag was hung out--didn't I see it?' Soon after this, I heard a piteous wailing, with a sad attempt, and a sadder failure, to sing the sabbath-school hymn, 'Sister thou wast Mild and Lovely,' after which there was a little, crooked, undulating procession, Bobby carrying the dog and Floy the cat, wrapped in shawls, and as they slowly made their way up the hill, into the garden, I understood, from the dismal moaning and sobbing, and from the melancholy rags they bore, that the undertakers were 'performing' a funeral, poor Maud having died of the terrible visitation. I hurried up to the grave, in what I dare say pa.s.sed for unseemly haste, but just in time to save the poor little wax baby from being buried alive, or, at least, in all her bewitching helplessness. Upon remonstrating, 'We'd ony sowed her up in a bag,'

murmured Floy, 'and we would have undigged her.'"

No. 198. _Glimpses of the sabbath-school._--"Gerty, my dear, you were a very good little girl to-day," said the teacher. "Yes'm--I couldn't help bein good; I got a tiff neck," said Gerty, with perfect seriousness.

"_Who's that a-bearin'?_"--The solemnity of a fashionable church in Chicago was greatly disturbed, not long ago, by a little incident worth remembering. Somebody's three-year-old pet had been often amused at home with pretty good imitations of a bear, growling over his prey. While the congregation were singing, one of those predetermined, zealous worshippers, to be found everywhere, who cannot be persuaded to withhold their contributions in church, though they never dream of pitching a tune anywhere else, began a low, growling accompaniment, within two or three pews of the child, without regard for time or tune, though evidently to his own satisfaction, under an idea that he was singing base--instead of basely. The little one looked surprised, and turning suddenly to mamma, asked, in a voice loud enough to be heard by the whole congregation, just as a lull occurred in the stanza, "O mamma!

mamma! who's that _a-bearin'_?"

Will n.o.body take the hint? Let us have congregational singing by all means, instead of oratorios and operas, for church music--but no menagerie music, if _you_ please.

No. 199. _A Plea in Bar._--"Come up here, you young reprobate, and take a sound spanking," said the teacher, out of all patience with a mischievous, quick-witted boy.

"You ain't got no right to spank me, and the copy you've set for me says so."

"Saucebox! Let me hear you read that copy; read it aloud, so that everybody can hear you."

Whereupon the boy reads, like a trumpet, "'Let all the ends thou aimest at be thy country's!'"

"Go to your seat, you young scapegrace."

And he went.

No. 200. _Foresight._--"Two cocoa-nuts for ten cents! hurrah!" shouted a little shaver to his playfellow across the street; "that'll make me sick to-morrow, and I shan't have to go to school--hurrah!"

No. 201. _I wouldn't, would you?_--A three-year-old youngster saw a drunken fellow staggering through a crowded thoroughfare. "Mother," said he, "did G.o.d make that man?" "Yes, my dear." "Well," after considering a moment, "maybe He did, but I wouldn't have done it."

No. 202. _A drop of Gold._--"Mother," said a little poet of four summers, "just hear the trees makin' music, for the leaves to dance by."

No. 203. _Another!_--A little fellow was eating bread and milk, when he turned round to his mother and exclaimed, "O mother! I'm full of glory!

There was a lot o' sunshine in my spoon, and I swallowed it!"

No. 204. _Suggestive._--"She said she wouldn't let me go to her funeral, grandma; but you'll let me go to yours, grandma, won't you--there's a dear."

No. 205. _Logical Inference._--A little boy of our neighborhood, with an eye as clear as a kitten's, had a dog named Caper. Dining with his grandmother not long ago, when they had boiled mutton, his attention was attracted by something he saw in the b.u.t.ter-boat. "What's them, gam'ma?"

said he. "Capers, my dear." He looked puzzled--grew thoughtful--and watched the plates awhile, and then, having made up his mind, he came out with, "Please, gam'ma, I want some more o' them little dogs." Of course he had them.

No. 206. _Cla.s.sification._--"Who makes the laws of our government?"

asked a committee-man of the cla.s.s under review--a cla.s.s of Lilliputians. "Congress." "And how is Congress divided?" A dead silence. At last a dear little thing, not more than so high, with a wonderful memory, threw up her hand, thereby signifying that she was ready to answer it. "Well," said the teacher, "what say you, Sallie? How are they divided?" "Into civilized, half-civilized, and savage," was the triumphant reply. If it be true, that the greater the truth the greater the libel, might not Miss Sallie be indicted? Congressional miscreants are getting so plentiful, just now, that children should be cautioned--or tongue-tied.