The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1870-12-01

cry close observer must be convinced
that a mother neUer forsakes her erriug
child. Dickens makes young Rob Too
die. who is a bad boy, bear testimony
to this, as follows:
Polly, who had passed Heaven knows how
many sleepless nights on account of this her dis
sipated 1rstborn, and had not seen him for
weeks and weeks, could have almost kneeled to
Mr.. Carker the Manager, as to a Good spirit--in
spite of his teeth. But Mr.. Carker rising to de-
part, she only thanked him with her mothers
prayers and blessings: thanks so rich when paid
out of the hearts MINT especially for any service
Mr.. Carker had rendered, that he might have
given back large amount Of change, and yet
been oVerpaid.
As that gentleman made his way among the
crowding children to the door, Rob retreated
on his mother, and took her and the baby In the
same repentant hug.
"I1l try hard, dear mother, now. Upon my
''Oh do, my dear boy! am sure you will, for
our sakes and your ownp' cried Polly, kissing
him. "But you're coming back to speak TO me-
~ don't know, mother" Rob hesitated and
looked down. "Father = when's he coming
home 2"
"Not till two o'clock tomorrow morning"
"Ill come back, mother dear!" cried Rob. And
passing through the shril cry Of his brothers and
sisters In reception of this promise, he followed
Mr.. Carker out
Nv nat " snlu Alf. Carker, VINO nau neaTu tIllS
"You have bad father, have your"
No. Slr!" returned Rob, amazed. "There
amt better nor kinder father going, than
mine is"
"Why don't you want to see him then ?" in-
quired his patron.
"There's such a difference between father and
mother, Sir" said Rob, after faltering for mo-
ment. "He couldn't hardly believe yet that
was going to do better-thOugh know he'd try
to-but mother - she always believes what's
good, Sir; or at least know my mother does,
God bless her"
Let those who are troubled about the
soul of Charles Dickens, now read the
following beautiful verses written by
him, and then say whether man who
could write thus, could have been bad
man:
When the lessons and tasks are all ended,
And the school for the day is dismissed,
And the little ones gather around me-
To bid me goodnight and be kissed;
Oh the little white arms that encirclc
My neck in tender embrace!
Oh the smiles that are haos of heaven,
Shedding sunshine Of love on my face.
And when they are gone, sit dreaming
OF my childhood too lovely to last
OF love that my heart will remember
When 1t wakes TO the pulse of the past,
A partner Of sorrow and sin,
When the glory Of God was about me,
And the glory of gladness within.
Oh my heart grows weak as woman's,
And the fountains of feeling will flow,
When think OF the paths steep and stony,
Where the feet OF the dear ones must go;
or the tempest OF rate blowing wild;
Oh there is nothing on earth half so holy
| AS the innocent heart OF a child
| They are idols OF hearts and Of households;
They are angels of God in disguise;
His sunlight still sleeps in their tresses,
| His glory still CLEANS In their eyes;
| Oh the truants from home and from heaven,
They have made me more manly and mild
And 1 know how Jesus could lilken
The kingdom Of God to child.
| ask not life for the dear ones,
All radiant as Others have done,
But that life may have just enough shadow
70 temper the rays OF the sun;
| | would pray God to guard them from evil,
But my prayer would bound back to myself;
| All a seraph may pray for sinner,
But a sinner must pray for himself
The twig is so easily bended;
l have banished the rule and the rod;
| l have taught them the goodness OF knowledge,
l They have taught me the goodness OF God.
My heart is q dungeon OF darkness,
| Where shut them from breaking rule
My frown Is sufficient correction
My love Is the law of the school.
/ shall leave the old house in the autumn,
To traverse ita threshold no more;
All how shall sigh for the dear ones
That meet me each morn at the doOrl
shall miss the goOd-nights and the kisses,
And the gush of their Innocent glee,
The group on the green, and the flowers
That are brought every morning to me.
| shall miss them at morn and at eve,
Their song in the school and the street,
| shall miss the low hum oftheir voices,
And the tramp of their delicate feet,
When the lessons and tasks are all ended,
And death says, "The school Is dismissed!
May the little ones gather around me,
To bid me good night and be kissed.