Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

38

YOUNG

CHILDREN'S PLAYS.

CHILDREN'S PLAYS.

OUNG animals like play. It is natural that they should, but the graceful frolics of the kitten by the hearth and the merry gambols of lambs over the sunny lea, have a meaning, and serve a purpose that the dumb creatures themselves cannot understand about. We know that such exercise helps to strengthen the body and make it grow.

And this is needed by the young human being as well, only he has in addition a mind to be trained, so that we should expect to find something more of intelligence and method in his games; still there is the same overflowing animal spirit.

See, now, that boys' school dismissing after a morning of hard work: on they come, running, leaping, wrestling, tumbling; getting rid of their pent-up energy by kicking a football, vaulting the fences and chasing bird or butterfly or ought else that is likely to run before them. All right too: only let them keep out of mischief; there is no fun in mischief. Boys have an advantage in this sort of thing. The governess of a ladies' boarding school would certainly be shocked if her orderly ranks were to break out in such fashion. Still, as much as possible girls should have fun as well as exercise, and at all events they may be hearty in what they do. Surely it is not unladylike to be interested. That much is only fair; for what can be more tiresome to the bright eager companion, than an indolent, sauntering, uninterested player? One likes a 'foeman worthy of his steel,' '-a boy or girl who cares to win in the game, and yet who can take defeat with good humour. Just a word of caution here. I am quite sure that all right minded old people enjoy seeing young folks happy ; but never must the children suppose that the chief duty of parents and other grown up friends is to find them amusement. Better to seek it for themselves, and invent games if need be. What now can be more enjoyable than 'imitation plays?' These are common to every age and country. Let us play at houses, at soldiers, at shops,

at parties, say our English children of to-day. While more than eighteen hundred years ago, in the market place of Jerusalem, Jewish boys and girls played at having marriage feasts and funeral processions in imitation of the customs of their country.

There had been idlers too in those days, children who wouldn't play, for we hear the complaint-We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned unto you and ye have not lamented.'

On our own hill sides or village greens or city playgrounds, one generation after another enjoy such merry play, and then pass away out into the real difficulties and sorrows and joys of the world. For those who can visit the sea-side, what endless store of amusement is laid up in the ever shifting sand! Toil away, little workers. Your labour is not lost, although the fair structure that you have with such effort contrived to rear may be swept away with the first rising tide. It has served its purpose; you have had the fun of making it, and perhaps you have also got a lesson in diligence and perseverence. And do you know, my young friends, these two words contain the secret of success in any work great or small?

Then you have the regular games; marbles, skipping ropes and such like. I wonder who first invented these. It must have been a long while ago, for we know of at least one game that is played at in the present day in Spain, that has been minutely described by an old Roman historian. I dont know what kind of games the funny little Chinese boys have, but the black eyed Spaniards have kites and tops, and other plays the same as you have in Scotland, and I believe so have the Germans and Russians. So you see we are all brothers and sisters in play, although speaking a different tongue and wearing a variety of costumes. Let us then love one another as children of the same family, with one God and Father over all. This is a much nicer and happier plan, than to play in earnest at a Crimean, Franco-German, or TurkoRussian war.

A. W.

[ocr errors][subsumed][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][graphic]

UNSHINEY MAUD.

SUNS

LETTERS FOR THE MONTHS
April.

Now indeed the early flowers have come-only the early flowers-but how dear are these! I know you are deep among them-gathering them all for love. Was there ever a child-heart that did not rejoice in flowers? And yet as we grow older they become more deeply dear. Why, I cannot tell-you shall sometime know, little Maud. That touch of new creative love year by year, in the meadows, by the streams, in the daisies, in the violets, in the mosses, in the bursting of the chestnut leaves-it shall sometime become to you-I dare not say what of delight. You have gathered the Cardamine.

I

know not what you have called it. It has so many names, and each a poem of its own. Perhaps it is your cuckoo-flower, as it is on so many little lips. For you have paused in gathering it, your hands and your lap full, your soft cheeks flushed crimson with the fresh spring meadow wind, and heard the lonely note of the first far-off cuckoo, calling, echoing through the budding trees with such strange piercing sweetness. The cuckoo sings while the cardamine is paling the meadow with its flowers, and so it has been named the cuckoo flower, and perhaps you delight in this name.

But little ones in other meadows are calling it the lady's-smock. And this name

[blocks in formation]

too has a story-a story of a different kind. It goes back to the early times before the Reformation in England, when so many things were named for the Virgin Mary. She was our lady' to all the poor people, who, in their ignorance and superstition, named their common flowers by her name, and so, without thinking of its meaning, people name them still. The dodder was the lady's-lace, and the harebell the lady'sthimble. The large round-leaved ladymantle has none but the Catholic name still.

I must not linger over names, yet must speak of the ground-ivy, which you know well to be no ivy at all. What a bright enamel it is along the shady waysides, among the wild parsleys and the daisies, and the first blue, faint, speedwells. No one has ever told us who first called it an ivy, nor why the name has clung to it; its untruth notwithstanding. For it is a lipshaped flower, purple and bright, and its rounded leaves nestle in the grass, red tints often blend with their green. It has no resemblance to the ivy except in name.

Another flower you are sure to gather is the Celandine or swallow-flower, which has its name because it was said (although wrongly said) to come with the swallows. It comes before the swallows. Whenever the winter is past, you have found the gleamy golden blossoms rising from its heart-shaped leaves. And the green leaves are gleamy as the yellow flowers. "Tis a bright and sunny thing. In itself a sort of light. Yet meek as all fairest flowers are. It is only if you love flowers that you know the Celandine.

I meant to tell you, little Maud, of one who loved flowers just as you do, who lived very long ago, and of whom I am sure you never heard. He was called Cybo, of the Golden Island.

The island, which was called the Golden, lies in the Mediterranean sea, near the sunny shore of Italy, where Cybo's home was. Cybo served God with all his heart, and he loved God's beautiful world. Its beauty filled his heart like a passion. As each Spring and Autumn came, he left his

home and retired alone to this lovely island, the haunt of bright birds and flowers. Here he lived among them till their loveliness became as his own thought. He brooded on their beauty-they were God's revelation to him-tender, delicious tokens of His love-earnests of cternal loveliness. He could draw and paint in a wonderful manner' the old books say-so with joy and reverence he sat day after day among the spring flowers. He copied with a delicate, devout hand, every leaf and spray, every warm flush of colour, every pearly shade. He prayed in the flowershadows, and sang His praises with the birds.

I have wondered, little Maud, if he died there. But I do not know. He walked with God among the earthly flowers. I do not know when God took him.

The flowers were God's ministers to him, as every common thing may be to us. Little Maud, we have more than he to draw us close to God. For all our common loves and duties may be purer and sweeter than flowers, tokens more divine of His love who infinitely gives.

Cybo of the Golden Island who knew the truth but dimly, worshipping God among the flowers, is a vision fair to keep.

Thank God for the beauty of wood and blossom and stream; but most of all for the beauty and love and sweetness of home; for its dear ties, for its duties and even its For these are the heart-flowers, whose fragrance outlasts time. H. W. H. W.

cares.

[blocks in formation]

SAVED AT LAST.

throw a cheerful appearance through the room; and little Harry, after eating a piece of stale white bread and drinking a draught of cold water, said his prayers and went to bed, but he could not sleep. His thoughts went back to the pretty little cottage he

used to live in with his father and mother, when he heard the lark sing as it mounted higher and higher, while he remembered how delightful a thing it was to feed the pretty white rabbits with their pink oyes, and to have a romp afterwards with Carlo, through the hay-scented meadow, near to which the silvery river ran.

But now all was different; his mother whom he loved so fondly, and who used to kiss him, and hear his prayer of Now I lay me down to sleep,' had left him and gone to her heavenly Father. And now he was in a little confined garret in a busy town, while his father was quite changed, and was often drunk with the liquor he obtained at the public house, filling Harry with terror every time he saw him in that condition, which, alas! was pretty frequent.

Harry hated the sight of strong drink, and had often spoken to his father urging him to to give it up, but in vain. No wonder the little boy was feeling lonely, and in a

41

sudden recollection of the happiness of former days, burst into a fit of weeping. Rut suddenly his sobbing ceased, for he heard the well-known tramp, tramp, of his father's footsteps as he came up the wooden stair, while he crouched lower down among the scanty bed clothes as his father entered, and after several attempts managed to light a candle, which he stuck in an empty bottle and set it on the wooden table.

Harry looked at his father and could perceive he was not in a very good humour, for you know, children, 'strong drink is raging' (Prov. xx. 1). 'Come, get up, you lazy fellow,' cried his father, approaching the bed; and Harry quickly jumped up and hurriedly put on his clothes. His father then ordered him to go for some whisky, at the same time giving him a small coin and a bottle.

'But, father, there is no bread in the house,' said Harry, in a pleading voice.

'Off with you at once!' and Harry was glad to retreat down the stair, and soon emerged in the busy street. He could not bear to enter a public house just now, and as he was wandering slowly along in the middle of the road-there was a sudden cry, and ere the driver of the approaching van could draw in the horse, he was thrown down and run over!

Harry did not regain consciousness till he found himself in the infirmary, lying on a bed, of which there were a great many. He felt a peculiar feeling about his leg, and found to his consternation that the left one had been cut off a little above the knee, as the doctor told him afterwards, 'It had to be done to save his life.'

Harry awoke one morning, and on looking at the bed next his, found, that instead of having its usual occupant, it was tenanted by an older man; and imagine his surprise when he found out it was his own father! In a drunken fit he had missed his footing and toppled down stairs, bruising himself severely and cutting his head, and SO was taken by kind hands to the infirmary. He remained there several days and had time for reflection, and through God's mercy and the attendance of

[graphic]
[blocks in formation]

the earnest minister who prayed and spoke with him, he resolved to give up his evil course, and do without drink. Of course it would require hard fighting and strong, to conquer its thirst, but it must be done; or he felt he would be lost for ever, for 'no drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of God' (1 Cor. vi. 10).

It brought the tears to his eyes as he saw Harry walking about, trying how he could manage with his wooden leg; for his conscience smote him as he felt that had he not sent him out for whisky, the accident would never have occurred.

However, they both got better; and through the help of friends his father obtained a situation as gardener in a country place where there was no temptation to drink, and he and Harry became as loving as formerly when his mother was alive; and and Harry felt although he had only a leg and a half, it was better to be in that condition than have his father come home intoxicated. Harry grew strong again under the influence of good, food and fresh air, and has been enrolled a member of a Band of Hope, with his father as superintendent; who has learned by past experience, that the best way to make sober men is to train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it' (Prov. xxii. 6).

OUR COMFORTER.

D. C.

'When the Comforter is come.'-John xv. 26.

L'

ITTLE children often want comforting. Something troubles you, and the grown-up people do not know, or do not think it is much to be troubled about, and so nobody comforts you, and you feel very sad. Sometimes they try, and yet it does not seem to comfort you. And sometimes you have even 'refused to be comforted.'

What a beautiful name this is for the Holy spirit, The Comforter!' so gentle, so kind, so loving. When He comes He is true to His name, and brings sweet comfort even for the little troubles of His little ones.

Is He come to you? Your heavenly Father has promised to give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him. So, if you ask, He is sure to give. Then ask that the Holy Spirit may come into your heart, and dwell there always.

[ocr errors]

Is He come to you? Are you not quite sure whether He has come yet, or not? The rest of this verse tells you how you may know. Jesus said, • When the Comforter is come, He shall testify of me.' That means, He will tell you about Jesus; He will put thoughts of Jesus into your mind, and love to Jesus into your heart, and He will make you see and understand more about Jesus than you did before. If you are thinking about Him, and glad to hear about Him, and trying to please Him, I think the Comforter is come, and is beginning to testify of Jesus in you.

Is he coming to you? Then you will never be without a Comforter, whatever troubles come; if they are little vexations or disappointments, He can make you see the bright side, and be patient, and trustful, and happy; if they are great troubles, perhaps illness or some dear one taken away from you, still He can comfort you, that you will wonder and find out for the first time what a very precious gift He is, and what sweet peace can hush your sorrow when the Comforter is come.'

'Our blest Redeemer, ere He breathed
His tender, last farewell,

A Guide, a Comforter, bequeathed.
With us to dwell.

'And His, that gentle voice we hear,
Soft as the breath of even,

That checks each fault, that calms each fear,

And speaks of heaven.'

(From 'Little Pillows.') FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL.

FAMOUS BOYS.

OLIVER CROMWELL-THE DETERMINED BOY THE HE birth-place of Oliver Cromwell, the Protector of England, was the dwelling house of a brewery in Huntingdon, owned by his father. His parents were of good position. Robert Cromwell, his

« AnteriorContinuar »