The Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1837-1867, 1837-10-03

lap, show happy I am that there Is n Hea0e"i anu
wish could 60 to it now, noW, dear mo'her.
Mrs O. took the child in her arms, hard'y
able TO sneak for tears She well knew the ma
nv trials to which her unoffending daughter was
subjected and she felt for her, as none but moth
ers similarly situated can feel. "What has nap
pened to disturb you, my dear? Who has spoN-
en- harshy to you?" "No one, no one, mother'
And never mind it much mother, when the It-
tie girls do call me names; they don't mean any
burt. But o, mother, how l might be loved,
were T os beautiful as my cousin Mary. Aunt
sovs am better child, more gentle and KIND,
but every body loves cousin Mary the moment
thew see her; and they smile upon her and often
kiss her. This morning Mary and were play
inp together, and lady passed by with sweet
pleasant face She stopped and praised Mary's
pretty rnglets and bright eyes, and kissed
her rosy cheeks. Mother, almost wished it was
And then she looked at me, and said
"poor child" Then, mother, could not Keep
from weeping. And she gave me some money
She couldn't love me, and so she gave me mon
ev.n "Ellen, Ellen" said tho widow in bitter
ness of feeling, 'you will break my heart"-
aMother will you take the money and buy some
clothes for little John, who comes to the door to
beg? l shall never bear to think oft. And now,
mother, will read, and not feel unhappy any
more"
81 am afraid it troubled Mary to see you so
much grieved; had you not better 60 and speak
to her my dear?"
"Not now, mother; am afraid she don'tlove
me as do her. When l turned to come away
she said; "What a fool you are to do so, Ellen
the lady might, in welcome, have given you the
kisses, had she given me the money. shouldn't
mind having u lunch back, if people would give
me money"
"Poor Mary, I'm afraid her beauty will be her
ruin. Would you not rather be as you are, than
feel as Mary does?"
eyes indeed mother. But have tried to feel
and think, that what you say is true-that the
good are always loved; but, mother, you are
mistaken, beauty is loved people hardly ever
think of goodness"
"My dear, people cannot tell how you think
they regard you as mere child ! love you
because you are good and dutitul child. When
you are older, others will love you, because you
will be amiable, useful, and pious. And, remem-
Der, my dear. that our father above can see with
in you soul, far more beautiful than the body
of cousin Mary. And, in few years, this COW
ering of the body will be dropped, and we shall
see each other, not the bodies but that part which
is truly, really ourselves. And then, my dear,
goodness will be beauty Cannot my daughter
wait patiently for that timer"
ayes, mother, yes, so long as have you to love.
But cannot stay long to be loved by none but
| t;oI by NIL do Nv
will think less of the opinion of the world, as
you live longer You will feel that we are plac
ed here to do good to our fellow creatures, and
he prepared for better world"
"But mother, can ever stay to be as old as
you are? love the little birds and green trees
and pretty flowers, but still the world looks cold
and dark, and want to be away" "My dear.
we must wait our Fathers time. Though your
body is homely and deforned, God has made
your spirit perfect, and that you know, will new
er die, while the most beautiful body will crum-
BILE to dust. Think, my DEAR of the great bless
ing you have received, and do not repine for
those which are withhoden." 81 will, mother
and be grateful to God for giving me such
mother, who has taught me to be patient and
contented under my trials. 1 might have been
ill natured, and envied dear cousin Mary for her
beauty, had God given me different mother"
The widow pressed her close and closer to her
heart, and the child and the mother wept long
and bitterly. "Ellen, many and many have
been the tears have shed over you in your in
fancy, for we'll knew if your life was spared,
all these trials awaited you. But my prayers,
that you might be blessed with a spirit to bear
them, have been answered. Your good aunt,
with her beautiful Mary, is less happy mother,
than yours Ellen"
81 will be patient and happy, dear mother, that
l may grieve you no more" said little Ellen,
throwing her arms about her mothers neck
Poor Ellen was scarcely eight years old. She
had been subject from her infancy, to the thoughts
less taunts of her young companions, and even
when they forebore their unkind and inconsd-
crate remarks, they often indirectly and uncon-
SciouSly wounded her sensitive natura opd boI,