The Children's Repository—Weep with Those that Weep [pp. 152]

THE LADIES REPOsIToR r.
"I believe you lost a fine top once, that was
supposed a little neighbor had stolen," said his
mother with a smile.
"But I can't have left this down in the grape vine arbor this Winter weather."
"But there are plenty of other losing places
about. Did you have on that jacket last night?"
" No, mothler, I had on my gray one, but then
I knouw I put it into my pocket-book."
"Do n't say you know, dear, for it may be an
untruth. Please bring me your gray jacket."
Arthur walked slowly up to his room, but he
walked back slower still, and looked very foolish
when he came into his mother's room again.
Mother comprehended it all at a glance, and
smiled as she said, "I wonder who looks guilty
this time!"
"O, mother, I am sorry, but I did not mean
to accuse Susan so wrongly. I remember now
wrapping up those three five cent pieces and
two pennies in that bit of paper, and putting it
into my jacket pocket."
"It is a very serious thing, Arthur, to make
such charges as you did a few moments ago
against an innocent person. What if you had
mentioned it among your school-mates? It
would not be long before it would be told all
about:'Susan at Mr. Reynolds' steals. I
wonder they keep her.' If she ever wished to
get another place it might be a very difficult
matter. Though you contradict the story afterward, it would never undo the mischief. Many
will repeat an injurious story, who will never
take the trouble to correct it. I will pray for
you, dear boy, that you may learn to correct
this sinful habit, and I hope you will pray with
me. You never will improve a bad habit until
you pray over it. Run now and tell Susan that
you have found your money, and try to make
some amends for your injustice by being more
than usually thoughtful and obliging."
WEEP WITH THOSE THAT WEEP.
HE cold wind whistled and whirled along
T~~~~~~~~~~~
the narrow streets in a perfect tempest of
rudeness, defying the protection of cloaks and
comforters, and causing large and small to shiver
at his keen and searching roughness. Little
Bettie More was standing by the window,
wrapped to the chin in a large shawl, looking
out into the street at the passers-by. In the
room behind her burned a large fire, and her
little brother rolled on the rug, very happy in
the enjoyment of comfortable indolence.
"O, George!" said Bettie, "do come; only
see this old man buttoned up to the chin, and
wrapped to the eyes, blundering along against
the wind. Now here comes a young lady trying
to walk gracefully, but she can not for pain.
See, now she stoops forward, as if to let the
blast drive over her head. Ha! ha!"
"What next, Bettie?" said George. "I am
too lazy to come and look; if you'11 tell me it
will do just as well." And with this he yawned,
and stretched his feet toward the glowing fire.
"0, George! will you believe it? a man is
coming with a coffin in his arms! There, he
has placed it on the stone steps at the gate, and
is looking so sad; I'll run down to the door
and ask him if I can do any thing for him;"
and forgetting the cold, little Bettie ran down
the stairs, and swinging open the front door,
rushed out to the gate.
The man glanced upward at her a moment,
and. then, dropping his head on the lid of the
coffin, burst into an agony of tears. Little Bet tie stooped down and wept also. What a scene!
The little finely clad child, and the rough, half dressed man, weeping together over that small,
unvarnished coffin.
"God bless you, little miss; sure it must be
that you are an angel that God has sent to feel
for the poor and broken-hearted. May the
spirit of her that's in this coffin attend you, and
shield you from all evil!"
"Is it your little girl?" asked Bettie.
"Yes."
"Well, you can meet her again when you die,
if you'11 be good. Mamma says we'11 meet our
little buried sister in heaven if we love God, and
tell the truth, and do to others as we would have
them do to us. 0, I'm so sorry for you! But
you'11 try to meet your little girl in heaven,
won't you?"
"I will, with God's help," said the man, looking at the child through his moistened lashes.
"Will you pray for me, little lady?"
"Yes, sir; I'11 pray for you every night before I go to bed; and if you'11l come to -
Church on Sunday you'11 hear our good minister pray for you; he always prays' for the sorrowing ones of the earth.'"'
"God bless you, little darling; I'11 go to
church for your sake! Good-by. Run into
the house; it's cold for the like of you;" and
the man gathered up his child's coffin and resumed his journey. Thank God that there are
mothers who teach their children how to go to
heaven; that there are ministers who never forget to pray for the bereaved and afflicted! The
poor, sorrow-stricken man did go to- Church,
the minister did pray for him, and he finally
joined the Church, and died at last in the hope
of reunion with his lost babe.
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