The Nest in the Honeysuckles, and other Stories - Part 9
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Part 9

All habits grow stronger by indulgence. If you allow yourself to become angry to-day, you will more easily become so to-morrow. If you control your temper to-day, it will be less difficult to control it to-morrow. Helen's victory was obtained by decision. To form the determination to conquer herself required more effort of will and more strength of character than any subsequent struggle with her besetting sin could possibly require.

If you have any fault which you wish to correct, you must fully make up your mind to succeed. You must resolve that you will conquer. If you should occasionally be overcome, yield not to despair, but with renewed courage try again.

"On yourself and G.o.d relying, Try, keep trying."

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SELFISH ELLA.

Ella Russell is a little girl with soft, flaxen hair, bright eyes, and a complexion fair and clear. She is neat and orderly in her habits, and is very gentle and mild in her manners. Her musical laugh sometimes rings through the house like a sweet melody. It is so contagious that you would laugh yourself to hear it.

Ella is obedient, and needs as little care as any child I ever knew.

Her father is living, but she has no mother, and Ella lives with a Mrs. Lindsley, who has three daughters, two of them older and one younger than Ella. She is much attached to this lady, and feels perfectly at home in her house.

Ella's mother was in feeble health several years before her death.

Ella was her constant companion, and nothing gave her more pleasure than to wait upon her and do all in her power to relieve her sufferings and make her more comfortable. Mrs. Russell said her daughter was an excellent nurse, although she was not more than seven or eight years old. It shows how much even small children can do for the comfort of their invalid friends, if they really try. It is very gratifying to a mother to have a child so careful and thoughtful, and Ella and her mother loved each other more and more every day. Mrs.

Russell's disease was consumption, and she could not be restored to health. Poor Ella, how lonely she felt when her mother died! She was young to know so much sorrow.

Ella's home is not far from the city. Her father often goes there, and frequently sends her some delicacy which he knows she would relish--a box of early strawberries, or a basket of plums or peaches, or whatever fruit may be in season. Mr. Russell is exceedingly generous, and he expects his little daughter to divide the fruit with the family where she has found so excellent a home.

Ella, good child as she is in most respects, has one sad fault. She is selfish. When she receives any rarity she would prefer to eat it herself, just as the chickens do when they have found a nice t.i.t-bit.

It is really a trial to her that she cannot eat a whole basket of peaches before they would spoil! Indeed, one day, after receiving such a present, she said to a person in the family, "I wish my father would not send so many. I like it better when I have only a small basket, and can keep it in my own room."

At one time Mr. Russell sent a basket of peaches to Mrs. Lindsley.

Ella was not at home. She had gone out to make a call on some of her friends. She heard this basket had been sent, and hastened back as soon as she could. "I hope they haven't eaten up all my peaches!" was her first exclamation. She was quite indignant to find the basket had been opened.

Mrs. Lindsley gave her all she considered it safe for her to eat; but Ella was not happy. She felt as if they all ought to be hers, and she really cried about it. A day or two after Ella saw her father, and he told her the peaches were designed for the family. Ella was somewhat mortified, and afterward told Mrs. Lindsley what her father said about the basket of fruit.

It seems very strange that Ella should be so selfish, for her father is not at all so, and I know it must grieve him to have a child of his so forgetful of the enjoyment of others. This selfishness does not make her happy. It occasions her much trouble, and it always will.

I know a little boy, six years old, who is very fond of fruit, and who is much delighted when his father brings him an apple; yet I have seen him, when he had but one, divide it between his brothers and sisters, and reserve no part of it for himself. He seemed entirely happy in doing so.

One day he heard his mother say, "I have not even a penny in my purse." He went up-stairs to his money-box, and brought down a handful of pennies, and gave them to her. His mother kissed his plump, brown cheek, and thanked him for his gift.

[Ill.u.s.tration: His mother kissed his plump, brown cheek.]

Which should you prefer to be like--selfish Ella, or this generous little boy?

The selfish person is always willing to receive favours, but to the generous "it is more blessed to give than to receive."

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"OUR FATHER WHO ART IN HEAVEN."

"Father is coming, father is coming!" shout a merry group of children, as Mr. Wilmot appears around a little knoll, on his return from his business.

"Let us run and meet him,"--and away they scamper over the lawn to see which will get to him first. They are laughing gaily, and their feet trip lightly, as hatless and bonnetless they hasten to him. Mary's brown curls are streaming in the wind, and it is a beautiful sight to look upon these children, so full of life and joy and love.

Mr. Wilmot greets them with a smile, and stoops to kiss each of them, as they put up their arms to give him a loving welcome to his home.

One of them takes his basket, and another his cane, and then the unoccupied hands are claimed by the tiny ones who love to walk by his side.

Why do these children hasten so eagerly to meet their father? It is just because he is their father. He has provided them with a home, and with food and clothing, and has given them many pleasant things to enjoy. He loves them, and his love and approbation are very precious to them. They obey his wishes, and strive to please him, and this is one source of the happiness which fills their hearts.

I think most of you, dear children, have kind parents, to whom you are warmly attached, and that you do not hear the name of father without emotions of pleasure. Some of you have no earthly father, but you all have one in another and better world.

Most of you, in your infancy, have learned to repeat the Lord's Prayer. How beautiful and expressive are the words with which it commences, "Our Father who art in heaven." G.o.d, then, is your father, and you may go to him as his children. You may tell him all your wants, all your sorrows, and all your joys. You may pour out your heart to him with perfect freedom. You need not fear to do this as you would to a stranger, for he is your Father, and knows all about you.

He knows every time you suffer, and he sees every thought of your heart. G.o.d loves you more than any earthly friends can, and he has enabled them to bestow upon you all the comforts which surround you.

When you kneel down to pray, will you not remember that it is to a father you are speaking, and will you not love him as truly and warmly as you do the dear father who takes you on his knee, and speaks so kindly and affectionately to you. Your father in heaven has given you this earthly parent, and you should surely love him for all he has done for you.

Do not let the precious words, "Our Father who art in heaven," be unmeaning ones to you; but strive to realize the great goodness and condescension of G.o.d in permitting you to call him by so sweet a name, and give him the only thing you can in return,--your young and grateful hearts.

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HATTIE AND HERBERT.

"Was there ever so good a mother as you are?" said Hattie Atherton, throwing her arms around her mother's neck, and kissing her with great affection.

"Oh yes!" answered little Herbert, in a solemn tone, "there is one a great deal better."

"Why, Herbert! what do you mean?" exclaimed Hattie, who knew Herbert loved his mother as dearly as she did.

"I mean G.o.d. He is better than mother."

"But G.o.d is a Father. He is our Father in heaven," continued Hattie.

Herbert was quite satisfied with Hattie's correction, and was then ready to agree with her, that his mother was the best mother in the world.

Herbert was a very little boy, but he had been taught that G.o.d was more worthy of love than even his father or mother could be. He was too young to understand much about the being of G.o.d, and when he called him a mother a great deal better than his own mother, it was an expression of his love and reverence.

Do you, dear children, when you realize something about the love which your mother feels for you, and which enables her cheerfully to do so much for your comfort, remember that G.o.d loves you even more than she does, and that He is far more deserving your strongest affections?

"He that loveth father or mother more than me," the Saviour said, "is not worthy of me." G.o.d should occupy the first place in your heart, and next to Him you should love your parents.

Happy is that child who is so willing to be governed by her mother's wishes that she is at all times ready to exclaim, "Was there ever so good a mother as my mother!"