LONG before the first ray of the winter's sun had found its way into the narrow street, Mary Keats was dressed, and at her needle, and a good hour's work was done before it was time to set out for the labor of the day.
Then, after leaving the fire lighted, and everything ready and comfortable for her mother, she stepped forth into the cold morning air.
Her spirits rose as she looked up beyond the smoky roofs to a bright piece of blue sky, and its purity and calm seemed to breathe a deeper peace into her heart, lifting it towards “things above." The sparrows twittering on the eaves told her of God's care. “Not one of them is forgotten before Him," thought she; "and His own children are of more value than many sparrows." Thus musing, the way did not seem long, though she had to walk a considerable distance before reaching her destination.
Street after street was passed, until gay villas with gardens began to appear on either hand, and then a stretch of turnpike, road, with many a turn and bend.
From the top of the steep hill Mary could see the flash of the river, and the leafless woods beyond, merging into the blue of the distant horizon.
She soon reached a house that stood quite alone, in small, but prettily laid out grounds, and entering the well-known gate, she was soon at the door.
Mary liked working in this house better than in any other, for its inmates were all old and kind friends of hers.
“Dr. Gray" was inscribed on the shining brass door-plate, but the good man's profession had no need to be proclaimed, for his fame had spread far and wide, and he was universally beloved by rich and poor.
After a warm welcome and a good breakfast in the kitchen, Mary ascended the staircase to the nursery, which still kept its name, though there was not so much use for it now-a-days, as the children were nearly all grown up.
One little girl, however, the youngest of the household, still slept there, and it was the sanctum for all her toys and treasures.
Little Katie was just seven years old, and the very fact of her being the youngest made her a lonely child.
The sister nearest in age to her had died, and also the eldest, the firstborn son, whose picture she loved to climb up and look at in papa's study, though not able to remember him.
George, Arthur, and Freddie were at school, and Edith, the eldest daughter, was always with mamma.
So that Katie was much alone, at the same time being the pet and darling of everyone in the house.
Her extreme delicacy made it impossible for her to enjoy much intercourse with other children, but accustomed to solitude, she did not feel it so much as many others would.
Edith taught her to read and spell, and greatly assisted Mrs. Gray in the careful and loving training of her little sister, who, in return, loved her dearly, and would run to her every evening to claim the promised story on her knee.
Mrs. Gray occasionally took Katie with her to visit the poor people around, and in the town; thus an early sympathy for poverty and suffering was awakened in her little heart.
Indeed, she was so extremely sensitive that her mother had to guard her carefully against any sort of excitement connected with this kind of thing.
No one in the house welcomed Mary Keats more eagerly than did little Katie. In her the child found an unwearied listener to all her plans and stories; she it was who taught her how to dress her dolls, and brought her pretty scraps to work upon; and if the day were ever so dull and cold outside, it was always bright to Katie when Mary spent the day in the little girl's nursery. The child's chief pleasure lay in reading aloud to Mary, and teaching her the hymns and texts taught by mamma and sister on Sundays.
Mary could not read very well herself, and therefore it was a mutual delight.
Katie knew all about Mary's aged mother and the little boy, and many an apple and orange were saved from dessert, and found their way into Mary's pocket for Willie, and if she were in trouble or sorrow, Katie was the first to find it out.
Often would tears of joy and gratitude fill the eyes of the poor girl, as she thought of the kindness she had received from these true friends of hers.
From the very first day that Dr. Gray had treated her so tenderly in the dull hospital ward, where she had lain for months in helpless suffering, she had ceased to feel friendless and forlorn.
He it was who had first directed her to the good Physician, and the healing Balm of Gilead, and ever since that time her home had been blessed by their bounty; so it was no wonder this house was a sunny spot to which she would return again and again with joyful steps.
“There is my little song-bird," thought she, as, having arranged her materials and just begun to work, she heard the child's sweet voice and merry laugh on the stairs.
In another minute the bright blue eyes were looking up into her face.
“Oh, Keats, I have so much to tell you," cried the eager little prattler. “I have a kitten of my own, and two new rabbits, and the boys are coming home for the holidays next week, and Edith had a letter from grand-mamma, and she says I am to go and stay with her by the sea in the summer time. Won't that be nice? Oh, I'm so happy, I don't know how to stand still for you to try on my frock, only I suppose I must, or you will have to undo your work again."
And, assuming a mock gravity, the little face tried to look serious, and Katie was soon seated at Mary's feet, listening to all that had passed since last they met.
“I have been working for another little lady since I was here," said Mary, in the course of conversation.
“Oh, have you?" said Katie. “Tell me where she lives, and what she is like, and all about her."
“I must thank your mamma directly I see her," answered Mary, “for kindly recommending me to the housekeeper at 6, Albert Square, who has kept me fully employed this week.
“I was just beginning to be down-hearted again, for rent-day was coming on, and I was afraid we should not have enough to pay the rent. But only last Sunday, as I was sitting reading to mother and Willie about the storm at sea, and Jesus being in the ship, those blessed words went straight to my heart: ‘Why are ye so fearful? how is it ye have no faith?' And the same evening there was a message left at our door desiring me to go to work on Monday; and now I wish I had trusted more, forever since my eyes were opened to know God as my Father, and Jesus as my Savior, I have never known what it is to want."
Katie rose up quickly, and, going to her treasure drawer, took out a pretty card with the words, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want," illuminated on it, saying, "I have been keeping this for you a great many days, and you must nail it on your wall, and then you will never feel afraid again, will you?"
“Thank you, darling," said Mary; "it will indeed be a treasure to me; and I will teach the beautiful words to little Geraldine. I said the pretty hymn you taught me to her last evening."
“Is that the little girl you have been working for?" asked Katie. “What a pretty name! Oh, do tell me all about her."
So Mary described the happy, stolen interview at full length, and in a very short time the name of the interesting little stranger was invested with all the charm which surrounds a new character in a story book, and Katie's pleasure in teaching Mary a new hymn was doubled by knowing that it would be for Geraldine also.
How little do we know, when trying to do good even to one person, how far the blessing may extend.
The tiny seed looks a hard, brown, insignificant thing, but foliage and fruit follow after many days.
The small pebble drops into a pool of water, but circle after circle appears, until we can scarcely discern the last.
So even a little child may exercise an influence for good, and a word in season may prove to have been precious grain, bearing fruit ten or a hundredfold; and “what we know not now we shall know hereafter."
“The sunny hours of childhood!
“How pleasant, fresh, and bright!
But, like the morning sunbeams,
They quickly take their flight.
O'er hearts that now are lightest
A cloud may soon arise,
And faces that are brightest
Be dimmed by tearful eyes.
If we would glow with gladness,
The path of pleasure trace,
Then we, to banish sadness,
Must gaze on Jesus' face.
'Tis sunshine to be dwelling
Where all is Light and Love:
And bliss, all thought excelling,
To rest in Christ above.
He is the Sun and Center
Of heaven's delightsome land;
And blest are they who enter
And in His presence stand.
The Lamb adoring, praising,
Who once on earth was slain
To God the Father raising
The ever joyous strain.