Chapter III: Part 3

As the days went by she found she had no easy task. There were two or three disorderly spirits in the school who set at defiance all rules. She was surprised at the utter ignorance which some of her pupils showed of the Bible and religious truth.

She had resolved to open school with devotional exercises, as the trustee had assured her there would be no objection to such a course. None of the children brought their Bibles the first day, but in compliance with her request there was quite a show of Bibles the next morning. One or two said they had none, and these were allowed to "look over" with those who were willing to share their books with them. Alice gave out the chapter which she had selected for their reading, and one little girl looked up in surprise to see them all finding the place, and asked with a puzzled expression:

"Is it alike in all the books?" And then she as well as others had to be shown how to find the chapter. And Alice explained that the Bible was the word of God, and the books they had brought were all copies of the words which God had given to his people. When she asked how many knew the Lord's Prayer, only three raised their hands. And as for the Ten Commandments, the most of the children had never heard of them. And Alice thought, "surely here is work for some one."

During that week she tried to teach them the Lord's Prayer, but as they made slow progress in the few moments which she felt that she had a right to use in that way, she thought of a plan.

"How many of you would like to come here Sunday afternoon and be taught about God and the Bible?"

Almost every hand went up, and the appointment was made and kept, too.

And every Sunday afternoon all through the summer Alice Merwyn spent an hour in the dingy little country schoolhouse surrounded by a group of children who soon came to hang upon her words as well as upon her chair.

"Dear me! I should think you had enough of those children through the week without going there these hot Sunday afternoons!" said May Andrus, the daughter of the lady with whom Alice boarded.

"Well, it seems that they do not have enough of me!" replied Alice, laughing a little.

"But they have no right to your Sundays!" said May.

"I differ with you; I think they have the best right."

"I do not understand; I supposed you were hired to teach five days in the week, only," replied May.

"True, Mr. Pratt engaged me for the school week, but I have another Master, May. And he seems to be saying to me 'do this thing.' The children need me, I think, and that is why I said they have a right to a part of my Sundays."

"O, you are too good to be comfortable! Now if you would give up the scheme and sit in the hammock this afternoon and read, how we would enjoy ourselves!"

"I must not disappoint the children!" and Alice went down the dusty road wishing that May was interested in the matter enough to go with her.

After the lesson of that afternoon they lingered a little in familiar talk. Fred Pratt had been the most unruly of all her pupils, but of late he had changed greatly, and his example was having a marked effect upon the good order of the school. That afternoon Alice said:

"I wonder how many of us hope we are Christians? or how many are trying to be Christians?"

There was a little hesitation, a looking shyly at each other, then three hands went up. And Alice's heart gave a great bound of thanksgiving.

"What makes you think so?" she asked, and Fred spoke first:

"For one thing I think I am not as saucy to you as I used to be, and I know I could not help it, if Jesus did not hold me back from getting mad. O, Miss Merwyn! I have learned a great deal from you. I never knew anything about the Bible before you came! I've read it some, but it never seemed a bit interesting, but now I love it, and I just want to tell people how nice it is. I don't believe everybody knows about it!"

"I am afraid they do not," said Alice, "and, Fred, it is a good thing to want to tell others the good news and perhaps the Lord will want you to do that when you are older. Who knows?"

Then little Annie Andrus spoke.

"I think, teacher, that I am a better girl than I was, because I do not get so vexed at sister May when she pulls my curls mornings; I used to scream sometimes, and now I just set my teeth hard and ask Jesus to help me to keep back the yell! and I haven't quarrelled with Kittie in a week."

Fannie Brown was older than Annie, indeed she was the oldest scholar in school, and as Alice turned towards her, she said softly,

"I am so happy, and the little hymns which you have taught us keep bubbling over all the time. Everything goes right, and I love the Saviour, and am trying all the time to do what He would like to have me do. I don't know as it is being a Christian, but I want to be one, if I am not."

"What makes you so queer to-night?" asked May that evening.

"Queer, am I?" returned Alice.

"Yes, queer and quiet. Your face shines as if you had heard some wonderful news or something."

"I have!" said Alice. "I have heard of that which angels smile over." And then she told May the story of the afternoon, and May replied, more soberly than her wont, "I declare, Alice Merwyn, if there is anything in religion that will subdue such a boy as Fred Pratt has been I shall believe in it! Why, he has been the terror of the neighborhood! And dear little Annie! I shall never twitch her hair again."

May put up her frizzes silently with a quiet look on her face, and at length she turned to Alice and said:

"I believe I'll go to Sunday-school with you after this. I can't have my little sister getting ahead of me."

Do you think Alice Merwyn will ever regret the effort she made to help the children in that out-of-the-way neighborhood to a knowledge of the truths of the Bible?

FAYE HUNTINGTON.

THE ALABASTER BOX.

MY dear little friends, I suppose many of you have read the sweet story in the Bible, about Mary who broke for her Lord and Master the precious box of Alabaster. It was a very costly and rare perfume. I want to tell you, that although Christ is no longer with us here on earth, yet we can still break for him our Alabaster boxes. Do you ask me how? Well, He says that when we serve His dear children, we serve Him, just as much as though He were present with us. And I think every day, perhaps every hour, we can give to Him one of our Alabaster boxes. I do not mean the very ointment that Mary had, but we can speak kind and helpful words, we can encourage the downtrodden, we can carry flowers to the sick, make our homes sunny and cheerful, lend books to the poor, comfort our pastor, and do, oh! so many _little_ things to make others rejoice!

J.

BESSIE'S STORY.

I AM a very little girl,
I can't say much, but I know
Christ is died and gone to Heaven
Many hundred years ago.

And he suffered, here on earth,
All his weary long life through,
That our sins might be forgiven,
And we go to Heaven too.

And I know how he was born,
In a hornèd ox's crib;
Wasn't that a dreadful place
For a little babe to live?

Muvver told me all about it,
'Bout the Shepherd, and the star;
And the blessed angels, singing
Way up in the sky, so far.

And He came to die for children,
Just as much as grown-up men;
And if I am good and holy,
I shall go to Heaven, then.

I have 'membered it so nicely,
That I thought I'd tell you all;
And you'd listen, and be ready
When you hear the Saviour call.
BELLE WALDRON.

WORK FINISHED EARLY.

I HAVE lately been reading a sketch of one who finished her work early and went to rest. To those left behind still toiling in the field it seemed that her work was broken off and left unfinished, but He who called her to the service, and afterwards called her home, knew when to say "it is finished"; nothing can be half-done that is done according to His command.

Of "Nina's" childhood we are told of her "golden hair, fair cheek and graceful form; of her quick, laughing eye, of her sensitive face reflecting every changing thought--her ready answers to all Sabbath-school questions, and her sunshiny presence at school and at home."

"Her scholarship was bright, quick and accurate.

"In social life few shone more brilliantly, or were more admired and sought after.

"Her beauty was of a rare and noticeable type, her conversational powers were fascinating, and she early developed rare powers of mind."

Her beauty, intelligence and social powers were early consecrated to the Master's service. We are told that "when a little child, from eight to twelve years old, she and some of her companions formed a praying circle and had a little room in one of their homes which they called the house of prayer. They met often in this room which they delighted to decorate after their childish fashion."

I can imagine the little girls bringing from the old-fashioned gardens bunches of flowers, snowballs, peonies, honeysuckles and sweet-smelling pinks and roses, or bringing from the woods evergreens and trailing vines to garland this bower where they met to hold sweet childish communion with their Saviour.

"Another favorite occupation was teaching some poor children whom she and her companions gathered for lessons in sewing and reading."

I cannot tell you all the sweet story of this beautiful life, only a bit here and there. When she was eleven years old she was asked by her pastor how long she had loved Jesus, and she replied, "Oh! a great many years."

There was nothing unchildlike in her ways. She is said to have been a peculiarly bright, active and happy child, growing to womanhood the delight of her home and tenderly shielded from rude contact with the world. But this noble woman, "so eminently fitted for usefulness in circles of refinement," was called to spend her life among the degraded Indians of the Northwest. There were those who thought it a great wrong that such a beautiful and accomplished girl upon whose education so much pains and money had been expended, should be given to the Missionary work among the coarse, ignorant Indians. They thought that some one less fit for the adornment of social life could do the work as well. But both she and her parents felt that the best was not too precious to be given to the Lord to be used wherever he directed. And this is a thought that I would like you to stop over. Let us give our best of everything to the Lord. And when we have given it let us be willing that He should do with it as he sees fit. Sometimes we think we are ready to give our best, but we would like to dictate as to where or how it shall be used. Let us see to it that it is a complete surrender.

If you will look upon the map and trace the course of the Missouri River you will come to a place marked Fort Sully, near the centre of Dakota. To this far-away region as the wife of an Indian Missionary, who was himself the son of a pioneer in Indian Missions, Nina Foster went to make her home in a log cabin, shutting away from the busy world her beauty and her talents, giving her young life to the cause of Indian Missions. She gave herself to the work joyfully. We are told that her "sense of humor and keen wit lightened many a load for herself and others; the more forlorn and hopeless the situation, the more elastic her spirits." She always made the best of everything. Even when the road was so rough and the riding so insecure that she had to be strapped in to keep from falling out of the wagon she made merry over the circumstance instead of detailing it as a hardship. For five years she labored among the Dakota Indian women, who speak of her as the "beautiful woman who spoke so well." Then God called her to himself.

Was this life, with its beauty and its talents, wasted? We cannot think so; we know not why God called her to bury herself for a few years in that remote region, and then, just when the work seemed opening before her, why he should call her away. Perhaps he wanted to show to a doubting world that the cause of Missions was so important that for its advancement he would use the very one whom the world looked upon as too good for the work. Perhaps he wanted to prove to some doubter the power of that love that would draw such an one as Nina Foster Riggs away from the admiring and flattering circle in which she moved and lead her to give herself to a life of self-sacrifice.

It may be that he wanted to put a bright gem in the midst of the darkness of ignorance and heathenism, that its shining might "enlighten, captivate, lead forth and refine."

For us, we may learn that our best, our very best, even _ourselves_, is the gift we are called upon to give. Shall we consecrate whatever we have, whatever we are, to the service of our Lord--_now_?

FAYE HUNTINGTON.

"FOR MY KING."

JUST to shine for Jesus
Every day--
Just to sing his praises
On my way;

Just to gather jewels
By his aid,
To go onward ever
Not afraid;

Just to drop a love word
As I go,
Just to cheer a lone heart
In its woe;

Just to smile for Jesus,
On my way--
To work and speak for Jesus
When I may;

Just to shine for Jesus
Everywhere,
This, O Blessed Saviour!
Is my prayer.
MRS. C. E. FISHER.

JENNIE'S VICTORY.

"JENNIE," said her sister Ella, "you are fond of talking about gaining victories; but I think if you would only conquer that bad temper, it would be a glorious victory."

But this made Jennie angry; and she went away to nurse her anger.

The first book she took up happened to be a Bible; it opened of itself to the place: "A soft answer turneth away wrath."

Meantime, would you like to know what was the trouble? On their way home from school, Jennie and her friend Albert quarrelled. Albert said Jennie's friend Lila Johnson missed a word, and Jennie said she didn't; and they disputed until both were angry.

As Jennie read the Bible verse, she could not help thinking what if she had answered Albert that perhaps she was mistaken; then she was sure all would have been right between them; however, she was too angry to listen to the soft voice which was whispering this in her ear; she closed the book, and went down stairs.

Cousin Harold was in the sitting-room with Ella; when he caught sight of Jennie's red face and tearful eyes he began to question. Harold's advice was to ask Albert's pardon; and he volunteered to go with her to Albert's house.

Jennie was almost sure to do as cousin Harold said, and in a short time they were walking down street together.

Only a block from her own house she met Albert, and stopping, said hurriedly: "Albert, I'm coming to tell you that I'm sorry."

Said Albert, "So am I."

"There!" said cousin Harold, "I fancy you have gained quite a victory. What a fine thing it would be, if you were always a brave general, and gained victories for the right."

After that, she went to a store with Harold, and waited while he did some errands. While they were there, Albert came skipping back to ask Jennie to go home with him to tea; that mamma said so, and she had a real nice tea for him, "because it's my birthday, you know."

Cousin Harold gave permission, and away went the happy children who were enemies such a short time before, but had been made friends by a few "soft words."

BY A LITTLE GIRL.

SEE here, my Blossoms, keep your thoughts carefully fixed on what I am going to tell you, so that you will understand, and not have to ask me any questions. Sometimes, you know, when mamma is talking to you, you only half listen, and pretty soon you say: "O, mamma, what did you say? I didn't quite understand." You mean, "I was thinking about something else."

Now! Attention! If you, my Blossom, have received, with your badge, a letter signed "Pansy" in which I have answered your questions, and given you greeting, you of course will not expect me to reply to your letter again in THE PANSY. Because people do not receive two replies to one letter, now do they? But if, on the contrary, you have received through my secretary, your badge, and a line stating that your letter will be answered in THE PANSY, in due time, why, then look out for it; though when its turn will come is more than I can tell you; the truth is, there are at least a _thousand_ letters now awaiting answers! If some of you get gray before I can reach you with a letter, you will not blame me, will you? Because, really and truly, I am doing my _very_ best; and I answer privately all the letters I possibly can, so that you will not have to wait so long.

Meantime, I expect each of you to show how patient and unselfish a Pansy Blossom can be in this matter, as well as in larger ones.

I wish you a very pleasant Fourth of July. I hope it will be "independence day" to you; that you will each prove yourselves free from every chain which Satan can think of to try to throw around you on that day.

If you feel like writing to tell me how you spent the day, and what one thing you did in it to give some one a happy time, whom you thought might else be forgotten, I shall be very glad to hear the stories. Remember to send your letters to Chautauqua, Chautauqua Co., N. Y., and my secretary who is there, will see that I receive them promptly.

And now, good-by once more, until August.

Lovingly,
PANSY.

* * * * *

_Violet_ from Maine. So violets can blossom in your State in the midst of a snowstorm! I am glad; and I hope it is a very sweet flower. Still I see the weeds trouble you. The one you mention, grows very fast, unless constantly watched. Don't let it hurt the perfume of your blossom.

_Clintie_ from Massachusetts. Dear little boy, we welcome you to our garden. Fretful words are troublesome weeds; and it is sometimes a great temptation to use them to those who are _in_ our family, but not _of_ it. I am glad you are pledged to watch their growth. Those who are all the time away from their homes and friends, need our help in every possible way.

_Emily_ from Connecticut. Dear! dear! these _tongues_. What shall we do with them! And yet, what would we do without them? It is so easy to think of some bright little word to say in return, at just the moment when we ought to keep quiet. I read of a boy who kept a clothes pin in his pocket, ready to clap on his tongue when he was tempted to speak words which he ought not. But I think there are better checks than clothes pins. Don't you?

_Lulu_ from New York. Another Blossom from the "Snow!" You are welcome. "Slang" is a word which covers a very disagreeable habit indeed. It astonishes me to see how many people who think themselves cultivated, indulge in it. I have noticed that it is sometimes connected with the other weed of which you speak. By all means get rid of them both, keeping the "Whisper Motto" in mind.

_Bertha_ and _Stella_ from Iowa. It is natural enough to like to play rather than to work. I presume men and women who work hard would often rather play. The great difference between people is, that some of them do what they would rather not, because it is duty; and some of them do what they would rather, because they _want_ to. I am glad to think of Bertha as belonging to the first class; for the others are rather worthless people. As for the dear little Blossom who describes herself in this way:

There was a little girl, and she had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead;
And when she was good, she was very, _very_ good,
And when she was bad, she was _horrid_,

truth compels me to say that she has a great many brothers and sisters! But Stella is not to belong to their family any more.

_Mabel_ from New York. I once had a kitchen girl who was a source of great amusement to my family because she fretted about everything. One morning I said to her: "Rebecca, we are going to have a rainy day, I fear."

"Of course we are," she answered; "as sure as I have a large wash, and need sunshine especially _much_, it is sure to rain." An hour afterwards the sun was shining brightly. As I went through the wash-room I said to Rebecca, "It didn't rain after all, did it? See what beautiful air for drying clothes."

"Oh yes," she said, "sun hot enough to bake me just as I am ready to hang out clothes; that is always the way."

The fact was, poor Rebecca in her younger days had contracted such a habit of fretting, that she really seemed unable to find a bright side to anything. I am glad you are pledged against such an enemy.

_Agnes_ from Illinois. I think THE PANSY is a very nice present. I am glad you agree with me. I agree with you that forgetful people are very troublesome, and sometimes in danger. There was once a little girl who forgot to turn out the gas in her room, but blew it out instead, as though it was a candle, and lost her life in consequence. We welcome you to the P. S.

_Mertie_ from Maine. "Foolish" questions are really very troublesome. The other day I sent a boy to the cellar for a certain jar. "Which jar?" he asked. "I told you there was but one," I said. "Oh, where is it?" "In the cellar, as I told you." "Which cellar?" said this foolish boy; and yet he knew as well as I did, that there was but one cellar in the house.

This same boy once lost his breakfast because he did not get up when he was called. I congratulate your mother because of your pledge.

_Medie_ from Michigan. Carelessness is a dangerous enemy. A careless little girl set a bottle on a chair within reach of her baby sister, and now poor baby is blind! It only took a moment to put the bottle in the right or wrong place. So sometimes the carelessness of one minute causes a life time of sorrow. Welcome to our garden. I am glad you mean to work to extend the usefulness of THE PANSY.

_Hattie_ from Illinois. Did you ever read the story of the great man who had a little dog named Diamond? I always admired his patience. If you do not know the story, suppose you look it up. Will you kiss Marion for me?

Your age? Let me think; I am not good at "guessing." Suppose I say twelve? Is that it? When you get the missionary society in good working order, send us a report of its doings.

_Ella_ from Pennsylvania. It seems to be a very hard lesson for my Blossoms to learn--that of prompt obedience. It is well for the world that so many are working hard at it. As for doors, I have heard them slam when I did not think the wind was to blame. Hands can do wrong as well as feet and tongues. The truth is, all our body-servants need watching.

_Bessie_ from Iowa. I shall have to tell you a story about Neddie. His brother Rob who loved him dearly, was tempted to tease him, occasionally, "just for fun!" One day he said in a frightened tone: "O Neddy! What is that great big bug on the back of your neck?" Poor Neddy was afraid of all kinds of bugs. He gave a quick little jump from the piazza where he stood, fell over backward, hit his head against a stone pillar, and never spoke again! Poor Rob! Doesn't your heart ache for him?

I once heard a good man say that "by-words" were side doors to profanity. What do you think?

_H. E._ from Kentucky. You have left me to guess your name. Well, I "guess" that it is Harrison Eleazar. Am I right? Never mind, you know your own name; see that you do credit to it. I like your pledge. It is a very common fault to speak ill of persons. I wish all the Pansies would take a resolution against it.

_Jennison and Milton_ from Virginia. It gives me pleasure, my boys, to know that you enjoy your badges, and that they help you. I earnestly hope to hear that Warren and Jennison are able to wear theirs to all appropriate places; yet I confess I wouldn't like to think of them as being worn by boys who had not tried hard to do them honor. I expect to hear good news from you _all_, next time.

_Albert_ from California. Obeying "after the third or fourth time," is sometimes obeying too late. It does me good to know that one more boy is resolved to cultivate the habit of prompt obedience. I know you will make a better man because of this. There was once a boy who had a sharp lesson on promptness. His uncle called two boys, Warren and Robert, to come to the yard at once; Warren went on the instant, but Robert waited to finish the page in the story he was reading. When he finally reached the yard, he found Warren seated on a pony's back, and he shouted out that the pony was his. "Yes," said his uncle, "I intended the pony for both of you; but since Robert did not come I concluded he did not want any pony; and gave it to Warren."

I think that was pretty hard. Don't you? But the truth was, Robert had such a habit of waiting awhile, after being called, that I suppose his uncle thought he needed a severe lesson.

_Walter and Harry_ from Rhode Island. Two brothers, one of whom is to learn "patience," and the other means to "stop whining." Good resolves, both of them. A whining face is never a pleasant one; and as for patience, it is needed all the time to help us through this world.

_Minnie_ from Kansas. I don't like to be teased; do you? I'm sure I hear you say, "No, ma'am." Then, according to the Golden Rule, you and I ought not to tease other people; and I am glad you have resolved not to do so. As to the finger-nails, of course they do not like to be bitten. Only three Pansy Blossoms in your city? Why, that is too bad! Can't you plant some more?

_Florence_ from Missouri. Give my love to my namesake, the dolly; though I am afraid she will care nothing about it. After all, I don't know how many cats you have, though you undertook to tell me. Can you guess why I do not know? Please try.

_Minnie_ from Connecticut. Your letter was not at all "silly," my little friend, but we only publish in THE PANSY those letters that give interesting stories about people or animals, or places; something which will interest all. You know one doesn't like to publish one's _personal_ letters for others to read. I hope you will have your wish and "change into a very good girl." In fact, I know you will, if you wish it enough to keep daily trying, and trust in the great Helper.

_Maggie_ from Kentucky. How glad I am that we have another Blossom who has resolved to guard her lips from the use of slang words! Think of a flower speaking in any but sweet and refined language! Who would want to make bouquets of flowers whose breaths were impure?

_Alma_ from Kentucky. You have taken a very important pledge. There is hardly another so important. I hope every Pansy in our garden will be a brave earnest worker for temperance; by which I mean the sort of total abstinence which determines to "touch not, taste not, handle not."

_Mollie_ from Kentucky. How much I should like to hear that your pledge had helped you to be present in Sabbath-school each Sabbath this year! Wouldn't that be pleasant? But there are some absences over which we have no control, are there not? Well, suppose we put it, each Sabbath that you are not detained by sickness, or by some cause which you could not help? Then let us hear at the close of the year, what success you have had.

_Lizzie_ from Illinois. It is pleasant to hear of an entire class joining the P. S. You can be helpful to one another. "In a minute" is a very bad sprite, who gets many people into trouble; have nothing to do with him. I think many persons who really intend to do the right thing, are caught by Satan, in this way; instead of trying to get them to decide against it, which he knows they wouldn't do, he coaxes them to put the duty off until they forget all about it. I trust he will not get the advantage of you.

_Lara_ from Illinois. So the meek little pansy on its satin bed has done its duty and helped you? I am glad. Do you know, I think "little things" are harder to bear than big ones? Someway, we make up our minds to be patient and brave over real troubles, but little pin pricks are likely to find us off our guard; so a pledge against just these "little foxes" is very important.

_Elma_ from Dakota Territory. Dear little Blossom, what a sweet letter you wrote me with your own hand! I think your lips must be very sweet when they have a smile on them; but "grumbles" are almost sure to dress themselves in ugly pouts. I would have nothing to do with them.

_Olive_ and _Hattie_ from Michigan. A "black" Pansy? No I do not think "thoughtlessness" is black. It is my opinion it is a dull gray-brown; such as my children in Sabbath school call dirt-color. Let us remember that it is a weed, not a pansy, but has crept in among some of our Blossoms unawares, and is to be rooted out. May you succeed in keeping your corner free from its power. Hattie dear, I am sorry for your long waiting. The first letter must have gone astray. What good news you both gave me! May you shine so brightly in your home, that "baby May" will early follow your example.

_Rose_ from ----. You forgot the State, little Rose, so I have to guess at the place where you bloom. I think it is better to wear the badges only on special occasions, and so to keep them fresh and neat-looking, a long time. However, they can be renewed at ten cents each, whenever the owners think they ought to have new ones.

_Gertie_ from Massachusetts. You are right, little girl. All over the world, young people seem to be troubled with very much the same weeds. Satan must depend a great deal on these "quick tempers," he has so many of them at work for him. I rejoice over every boy or girl who resolves to break from his power. How glad I am that THE PANSY helps you! That is sweet praise. I am also glad that you send it on, to help others, when you are through with it.

_Julia_ from Connecticut. Whispering tongues make a great deal of trouble. Watch yours with care. Dear Julia, one who truly wants to be a Christian has to bring her _will_ into the matter. Do you know what I mean? As soon as we honestly determine that, whether it is easy or hard, whether we are happy in it or unhappy, we will from this moment give ourselves to the Lord Jesus to obey Him in all things, He comes, and takes possession of our hearts, and makes them new. Take your decision to Him, and He will help you.

_Helen_ from New York. I am much interested in your society. I think you must have a very ingenious leader, to plan amusement for you. All the pledges, too, are important. I feel sure there must be some happy mothers in your neighborhood; for I have observed they are always glad when they see improvements in their children. I hope you will write us often; and give us the benefit of any new ideas which you get.

_Julia_ from Colorado. Oh, yes, we like to hear about the mountain scenery in your grand State. I am glad you give time and thought to the mountains, for they are among the wonderful works of God. Have you ever noticed what beautiful Bible verses there are about mountains? Once I made a copy of them all, and enjoyed it much. We shall always be glad to hear from you.

_Walter_ from Massachusetts. Indeed you can "belong!" Boys used to be rather scarce in our society. I used often to wonder why they were not so eager to overcome their faults as girls seemed to be. But we have a great army of them now. Your pledge is very important. I am sure "mamma" will rejoice; and watch your improvement with a thankful heart.

_Edna_ from Iowa. Indeed I think you wrote a very nice letter. So you want to "shoot" a great many things, do you? I think, with you, it is very wise to overcome the habit of using that, or any other by-word. To say the least, it is inelegant; and Pansy Blossoms should be very elegant, to match their lovely dress, and general appearance.

_Louie_ from Maine. Dear little seven-year-old Blossom, we welcome you with pleasure. Do the weeds of cross words trouble you? They are very poisonous weeds; I would be glad if they were rooted out of all the heart-gardens in the world. Look well after yours, my dear, and there will be fewer than ever before.

_Mrs. V. R._ from Florida. Thank you, dear friend, for your sweet bright letter, and for joining our P. S. and so giving aid and comfort to the many little feet that are treading the same road. Indeed I know, by experience, that if any one in the world has need of patience, and finds it hard to lay in enough for each day's supply, it is a mother. If all the mothers would join us in honest effort, it would be easier to lead the children.

_Lelia_ from Minnesota. A "whining" flower! Wouldn't that be a curiosity? I am so glad you are working to overcome. I know ever so many Blossoms who ought to join you in that pledge. Can you not induce some of them to do so?

_Louise_ from Dakota. Here is another "careless" Blossom whose temper also troubles her. What an army of them we have! Every name added to my roll gives me a feeling of satisfaction; I know there is just so much less sorrow in the world, because of each pledge.

_Hattie_ from Connecticut. Thank you, my patient little girl, for being willing to wait your turn for a letter. Not all the Blossoms are so thoughtful. I shall now think of your "things" as always in place. Shall I? How pleasant that will be! For I know just how trying it is to have them lying around where they do not belong. I am glad you are also a little worker for THE PANSY.

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_ABOUT BABIES._ (_Special to the P. S._)

NOW, my Blossoms, here is business for you. In the first place, pick out the words which you think are improperly spelled; count the number, and see if all the members of your society agree with you. The next thing is, to correct them. I hope I shall have some good reports about the fun you had, and the knowledge you gained.

I wonder if any of the Pansies will recognize their words in the list?

Lovingly, PANSY.

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DEAR PANSIES:

It was my indention to wright you about my Journey north, this month, butt as nothing of interest ocurred, I have desided to tel you of a pretty little villiage where I once went to a Sundy school meeting. It seems it was the habbit of the peple to take the babies to Church, and as, on that day it was not convient for eny boddy to stay at home with them, fifteen babies suceded in atending the meeting!

It was a verry plesent day out of doors; and I could not help feeling sory for the poor babies, because they were not out in the Sun shine. They had a fassion of all talking at once; and it was sometimes nesary for the speeker to speek quite lowd in order to be herd.

While one man was telling a storry which of coarse the babies did not understand, one of them hoped up on the seet in front of me and began a game of hide and seek. He was very still about it, hiding his curly head on his mother's sholder a minit, then bobing it up and looking at me. He was so sweet I could not help ansering him with a little smile, and a speck of a nod, until sudenly his plesure became to grate, and he shouted out "Peek-aboo!" Poor baby! It realy was not his falt so mutch as mine; and I realy suppose I ought to have been the one to have been caried out in disgrase. But I do not think his mother was seveer with him, for I herd her not long afterwards, calling him "Mamma's little hart seas!"

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DEAR PANSY:

I find so many letters in your magazine from children that I can not forbear writing to you.

Although I am not a child, I think I am as much interested in the magazine, and in the Pansy Blossoms, as any child can be. Possibly you will remember my writing you about the organization of our Pansy Club. It has been a success; the children are delighted with it.

Not long ago we gave an entertainment, followed by refreshments--ice-cream, watermelon, etc. We cleared a little over twenty-seven dollars. The children sang a number of songs, and recited selections, largely from THE PANSY. I wish you could have heard them! It seemed to me that if I were not a Christian, the love which sprang up in my heart that night for those dear children, would have drawn me to Jesus.

I have long felt as though my life was almost a blank, but this P. S. has opened a way for me to accomplish some good. I am anxious to do good. I can meet those dear little ones in grove, or hall, or parlor, from week to week and perhaps sow a seed in some heart that shall blossom for God.

At our entertainment, fifty children were in the procession, and marched into church led by a drum corps of little boys. Our banner is made of cream-colored silk; arched over the top in large blue letters are the words: "The Children's Union Pansy Club." Underneath: "Our Motto is to OVERCOME." In the centre, the words: "For Jesus' Sake." At the left corner there is a bouquet of pansies, painted in their natural colors.

All the money we have saved, or earned, we have appropriated to our pastor's salary, which is small, and not paid regularly.

Your loving friend,
MRS. J. H. D.

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DEAR PANSY:

One night I was going down to the pasture after the cow, and I saw Jip, our neighbor's dog run, barking, into a clump of alders; so boy fashion, I ran after him. As soon as I reached the bushes, out came a rabbit; then Jip and I joined in for a share of the fun. Jip caught him by the hind leg and tossed him into a pile of underbrush. The poor creature was so scared that he crouched down and did not attempt to stir. I caught him in my hands, and carried him home. Papa fixed a barrel for me to put him in. In the morning we built a pen for him in the barn. At first he was very wild, and would cry almost like a child; but I petted him a great deal, and when he found I was always kind, I could go in and lie down beside him on the hay, and he would hop back and forth over me.

I kept him for a month; then as winter was coming, I thought I ought to let him go for fear I could not get the right kind of food for him. One day when I went to school I took him with me. When I reached the woods, I put him on the ground, but he would not go away from me. I had to carry him away into the middle of the woods; there I left him to find his old home.

Your friend, ALUAN LARRABEE.

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DEAR PANSY:

I have wished, ever since the first number of THE PANSY arrived, to try to thank you for your goodness to the children; at this late date, I have still nothing to offer save all the thanks from each of our family circle, that can possibly be crowded into one envelope.

We were snowbound all winter. THE PANSY was almost our only visitor, and the good things it brings each month were devoured with such eagerness and gusto as are possible only to those who, like ourselves, have been famishing for lack of mental food. I try hard to keep the magazines clean, but they are read over and over again, and the pictures inspected with ever new delight; and they are in danger of being worn to tatters. The mother, being only a child of larger growth, enjoys the little books as much as her bairns, and is in much more need of their healthful and helpful teaching.

I find one needs all the help possible to keep one's flag flying with its motto of "Onward," and its voice ever shouting "No surrender!" And this, amid all the wounds which that merciless tyrant, "Poverty," can inflict. May God bless and reward you, is a loving mother's prayer.

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DEAR PANSY:

Here comes an old "Mother Pansy" of thirty-one summers, to join the ranks of your thousands of correspondents. I picture your smile of amusement at the faded appearance which your imagination must necessarily attribute to this ancient flower, but I assure you her feelings and desires for the happiness of the sweet young Blossoms are as strong and fresh as they were in her youthful days. Hence, by order of the President of our Pansy Society, of which I am Secretary, I must write you something of the proceedings of said P. S. Our "Club" was organized about a year ago and has been holding regular weekly meetings since September last, at which each member reads or recites some instructive, moral and entertaining selection often from your magazine, THE PANSY. Our Society consists of six members:

Charles T. Crawford, Pres., aged 12 years; Mrs. Walter Crawford, Sec., 31; Blanchie Crawford, 10; Geo. W. Crawford, Treas., 8; Victorine Crawford, 5; Jas. Warren Crawford, 2. This is quite a "Crawford Clan" you see, and quite a _home affair_, with regard to members and meetings, but we are trying to make its influence for good extend far and near.

At Christmas time we got together a large lot of old toys, picture books, etc., with boxes of cake and bonbons, and sent them to some poor children in our community who were not able to buy new ones. We also sent a box of Christmas goodies to each of the _real old_ ladies and gentlemen living near us who were likely to be overlooked in the overflow of young life surrounding them. Also sent out some suitable presents and eatables to needy negro families. At our yesterday's meeting a motion was made, seconded and voted in that as "St. Valentine's Day" was near at hand, each member of the Society prepare and send a Valentine to some little child who would be likely to be forgotten on this festive occasion. We gave to the "Missions" last year and will give again during _this_. THE PANSY has been a regular monthly visitor here for the past four or five years, and we would feel _very much_ as if "one of the family" were gone if we were deprived of it. Earnestly wishing the progress of each P. S. in the wide world and asking your own and their prayers for the further success of ours,

I remain, Respectfully,
MRS. WALTER CRAWFORD, _Sec. of P. S._

REPORT OF THE P. J. S.

DURING the last three months the Pansy Junior Society of Tompkinsville, Staten Island, N. Y., has entered into a new field of action, that of specific work for others who have fewer advantages than they.

Forty paper dolls have been made and dressed. About one half of these are babies with one dress each, the others being children each provided with six dresses. Two china dolls have been entirely fitted out, while others are in various stages of completion.

Having heard of an invalid who was patching a quilt and desired pretty pieces outlined in colors for it, the Society decided to work a few for her; five of these are already finished.

Up in Essex County, deep in among the Adirondacks, lives a lovely Scotch lady who has interested herself in the children of that region. These little ones have absolutely nothing in the line of reading, and by a unanimous vote of the Society, it was decided to send them some nice books and Sunday-School papers, thereby forming the nucleus of a sort of circulating library, of which the Scotch lady will be the head. We hope, sometime in the near future, to open correspondence with the children themselves, and if possible, to start a branch of the P. S. in Essex County.

The members of our Junior Society show great interest in the work of subduing their faults, and many have been the conquests over self. Of course we all often forget, but frequently the knowledge--and acknowledgment--of our shortcomings, has but added fresh earnestness to the desire not to be overcome.

At a recent meeting we decided to have a motto, and the one chosen was, "For we are laborers together with God." With this watchword, and with the help of Him who is our Captain, we intend to go on--and up.

E. M. CLARKE, _Sec._

"THE CHILDREN OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY."

HOW many of the Pansies know what Westminster Abbey is? Of course a large number of you little folks are not yet acquainted with it. I don't know a pleasanter way for people of your age to learn about it, than to read the book bearing the title which I have given above. Listen to what it says about the building, "That Abbey is the record of the growth of our two great nations. Within its walls we are on common ground. America is represented just as much as England. All English and American boys and girls should love Westminster Abbey." There are pictures of the wonderful and beautiful building scattered through the book; thirty-two illustrations, in a book of two hundred and ninety-four pages. It is almost like visiting the building itself, to read about it in this book written by Rose Kingsley. It is a beautifully bound volume, my copy being in brown and gold. Usual price one dollar. To members of the P. S. sixty cents. In ordering from D. Lothrop & Co., you must not omit to say that you are entitled to the book at the reduced price because you are an enrolled member of the P. S.

With this introduction, I am going to let the story speak for itself, by giving you a page or two from it, together with the picture of "The Cradle Tomb."

"On what used to be the altar step of the north aisle of Westminster Abbey, stands a baby's cradle--a cradle on real rockers. A gorgeous coverlet, all trimmed with rich guipure lace, falls from the corners of the cradle in splendid rich folds. The arms of England, Scotland and Ireland are carved on the back. And when you look under the head of the cradle you see that a baby lies sleeping in it. A darling tiny baby it is--its little wee face set in a close lace cap and lace ruff, under a kind of lace-trimmed hood that forms part of the pillow. You can almost fancy that if the cradle were set rocking, the babe might open her eyes. But 'baby and cradle, and all,' are marble--marble, yellow with the dust and wear of nearly three hundred years!

"'The Cradle Tomb' of Westminster, as it is called, has been far better described than by any words of mine. A card hangs close beside it, placed there by desire of Lady Augusta Stanley, on which is a poem by an American lady. That lady is a well-known favorite of American readers; for she is none other than Susan Coolidge. And the lovely verses--some of which I venture to transcribe--appeared in _Scribner's Monthly_ for 1875:

A little rudely sculptured bed,
With shadowing folds of marble lace,
And quilt of marble, primly spread,
And folded round a baby face.

Smoothly the mimic coverlet,
With royal blazonries bedight,
Hangs, as by tender fingers set,
And straightened for the last good-night.

And traced upon the pillowing stone
A dent is seen, as if, to bless
That quiet sleep, some grieving one
Had leaned, and left a soft impress.

* * * * *

But dust upon the cradle lies,
And those who prized the baby so,
And decked her couch with heavy sighs,
Were turned to dust long years ago.

"The inscription on her cradle tells us that this dear baby, 'Sophia, a royal rosebud, plucked by premature fate, and snatched away from her parents--James, King of Great Britain, France and Ireland, and Queen Anne--that she might flourish again in the rosary of Christ, was placed here on the twenty-third of June, in the fourth year of the reign of King James, 1606.'

"The little creature was born on the twenty-first of June at Greenwich--a favorite palace of the English sovereigns. Great preparations had been made for her christening, and for the tourneys which were to be held at the same time in honor of her grandfather the King of Denmark's visit. But the baby only lived two days, and was hastily baptized 'Sophia,' after the Queen of Denmark. James the First gave orders that she should be buried 'as cheaply as possible, without any solemnity, or funeral.' Nevertheless he made a contract with Nicholas Poutrain, the royal sculptor, for her monument, the cost of which was not to exceed one hundred and forty pounds. And we find that her coffin was very solemnly conveyed up the river by barge, covered with black velvet, accompanied by three other barges covered with black cloth and bearing many nobles, lords, ladies, and the officers-of-arms, to the Parliament stairs at Westminster. Thence the procession went to the southeast door of the Abbey, where it was met by the great lords of the Council, the Heralds, and chief officers of the court."

WE WANT

EVERY BOY AND EVERY GIRL