HARRIET AND HER SQUIRREL.
It was on a Sabbath eve, when at a friend’s house, we were all sitting in the piazza, conversing about the efforts which were being made for the poor heathen, and the number of Testaments which were being sent to them.
“Father,” said little Harriet, “do the little heathen children wish to learn to read the New Testament?”
“O yes, my child, many of them do,” said the father. “But have they all got Testaments if they did know how to read?” “No, my love; few of them have ever heard about the Testament, about God, or about Jesus Christ.” “Will half a dollar buy one?” said Harriet. “O yes, my child.”
“Then,” said Harriet, “may I sell anything I have, if I can get the money?” Her father told her she might.
Now, every child has some favorite toy. Harriet’s was a beautiful tame gray squirrel. It would eat from her hands, attend her in her rambles, and sleep on her pillow. She called its name Jenny. It was taken sick, and the little girl nursed it with care, but it at last died in her lap.
Little Harriet wept sadly about it, and her father tried to console her, and told her not to feel so.
“Ah,” said she, “you know, father, you told me that I might sell anything I had to buy a Testament for the heathen children, and I was going to sell my pretty squirrel to Mr. Smith, who said he would give me half a dollar for it; but now my Jenny is dead.” The Father then put a silver dollar into Harriet’s hand, and she dried her tears, rejoicing that Jenny’s death would be the means of his little daughter having two or three Testaments instead of one.
A teacher in a Sabbath School promised to supply all the children in his class with a catechism, who had none.
One of the little girls went home from the school after the books were given out and said:—
“Mamma, if I had told a lie to-day, I would have got a catechism.”
“I think that very strange, Eliza; for the Sabbath School is no place for lies, and if you could be so wicked, I know your teacher would not have rewarded you for it.”
“Mother,” said Eliza, “I tell nothing but the truth; and now I will explain it.
“You know I went to school this morning with the other girls. They told me on the way how their mother had bought each of them a new catechism on last market day, and they said, if I once saw how pretty their books were I would not look at my old one any more. Our teacher asked us all, when we went in, if we had any catechisms, and those who said they had not, received one from the teacher as a present. Jane, after all she told me, by the way, denied that she had any, and Lizzy did the same. But when he asked me, I told him I had one at home; but if I had said no, I would have got a new one.”