Christmas with Grandma Elsie

"But Grandma Elsie is particular about the stitches," said Grace; "don't you remember she told us she was, for our own sakes more than the poor folks'; because it would be a sad thing for us to fall into slovenly habits of working?"

"Yes, I do remember now you speak of it; and I'll try to make the work neat as well as to do it fast."

Lulu worked on not allowing herself a moment's rest or relaxation, till the tea bell rang.

Violet invited them all to spend the evening in her boudoir.

Lulu carried her sewing there directly after leaving the table, and Violet more than once spoke admiringly of the diligence and energy she displayed in working steadily on till it was time for them to separate for the night.

"It isn't done yet; dear me how many stitches it does take to make a garment!" sighed Lulu to Grace when they had retired to the room of the latter.

"So it does," said Grace, "but papa says having to take so many of them, one right after another, is a good lesson in patience and perseverance."

"Kind of lessons I'm not fond of," laughed Lulu.

"And you've worked so hard all the evening! you must be very tired."

"Yes, I'm tired; but I'd sit up and work an hour or two longer if it wouldn't be disobedience to papa.

"Well I'll see how much I can do before breakfast to-morrow morning.

Perhaps I can finish; I hope I can."

She carried out her resolution, and when their father came in for the customary bit of chat with his little daughters before breakfast, he found her sewing diligently.

He commended her industry, particularly when Grace had told how much of it had been shown the previous evening, but added that he hoped the tasks he had set her had been first properly attended to.

"Yes, sir; I learned my lessons and wrote my composition yesterday, before I began the sewing," she replied.

"That is well," he said, "I am glad to see you willing to use some of your leisure time in working for the poor, but your education – which is to fit you for greater usefulness in the future – must not be neglected for that or anything else."

Lulu blushed with a sudden half conviction that her tasks had not been so faithfully attended to as they should have been. But it was now too late to remedy the failure, as the school hour would come very soon after breakfast and family worship.

She wished she had learned her lessons more thoroughly and spent more time and pains upon her composition, but hoped she might be able to acquit her herself better, on being called to recite, than she feared.

However, it proved a vain hope; she hesitated and gave incorrect answers several times in the first recitation, and when it came to the second showed herself almost entirely unacquainted with the lesson.

Her father looked very grave but only said, as he handed back her book,

"These are the poorest recitations I have ever heard from you."

Then taking up her composition, which he had found lying on his desk and had already examined, "And this, I am sorry to have to say, is a piece of work that does no credit to my daughter; the writing is slovenly, the sentences are badly constructed, and the spelling is very faulty. It must be re-written this afternoon, and both lessons learned so that you can recite them creditably to me before I can allow you any recreation."

"I don't care," she said with a pout and a frown, "I just have too much to do, and that's all there is about it."

"My child, are you speaking quite as respectfully as you ought in addressing your father?" he asked in grave, reproving accents.

She hung her head in sullen silence.

He waited a moment, then said with some sternness, "When I ask you a question, Lucilla, I expect an answer, and it must be given."

"No, sir; it wasn't respectful," she replied penitently. "But please forgive me, papa, I hope I'll never speak so again."

He drew her to him and kissed her tenderly. "I do, dear child. But now I must know what you mean by saying that you have too much to do."

"It's that sewing for the Dorcas society, papa, beside all my lessons and practising, and other things that you bid me do every day."

"Then you must undertake less of it, or none at all; for as I have said before, your lessons are of much more importance. I can pay some one to work for the poor, but my little girl's stock of knowledge must be increased, and her mind improved by her own efforts."

"I don't want to give it up, papa; because it would be mortifying to have it said I couldn't do as much as the other girls."

"You seem to be doing charitable work from a very poor motive," he remarked in a tone of grave concern.

"Papa, that isn't my only motive," she replied, hanging her head and blushing. "I do want to please the Lord Jesus and to be kind and helpful to the poor."

"I am glad to hear it; but you must be willing to undertake less if you can not do so much without neglecting other, and more important duties. Did you bring home an extra quantity of work from the last meeting of your society?"

"No, sir," and she blushed again as she spoke, "but I – I kept putting off doing it because there was always something else I wanted to do – a story to read, or a game to play, or a bit of carving, or something pleasanter than sewing – till Grace reminded me there was only one day left, and then I hurried over my lessons and composition and worked as hard and fast as I could at the sewing."

"Ah," he said, "it is an old and very true saying that 'Procrastination is the thief of time.' The only way to accomplish much in this world is to have a time for each duty, and always attend to it at that set time.

"If you want to go on with this Dorcas work you must set apart some particular time for it, when it will not interfere with other duties, and resolve not to allow yourself to use that time for anything else."

"Unless my father orders me?" she said half inquiringly, half in assertion, and with an arch look and smile.

"Yes; there may be exceptions to the rule," he replied returning the smile.

"Now we have talked long enough on this subject and must begin to put in practice the rule I have just laid down."

"Yes, sir; I have my ciphering to do now. But, papa, must I learn the lessons over and rewrite the composition this afternoon? If you say I must, I'll have to miss the meeting of our society. I'd be very sorry for that and ashamed to have to tell why I wasn't there. Please, papa, won't you let me go, and do my work over after I get back? There'll be an hour, or more before tea and then all the evening."

He did not answer immediately, and she added, with a wistful, pleading look, "I know I don't deserve to be let go, but you've often been a great deal better to me than I deserved."

"As I well may be, considering how far beyond my deserts are my blessings," he said with a tender smile and another kiss. "Yes, daughter, you may attend the meeting and I shall hope to hear some excellent recitations from you before you go to your bed to-night."

"Oh thank you, dear papa! I'll try my very hardest," she exclaimed joyously, giving him a vigorous hug.

The society met at Ion that day. The captain and Violet drove over with the children, and leaving them there while they went on some miles farther, called for them again on their return at the close of the hour appropriated to its exercises.

Grandma Elsie's face hardly expressed approval as she examined Lulu's work, but she let it pass, only saying in a low aside to the little girl, "It is not quite so well done as the last garment you brought in, my child, but I will overlook the partial failure, hoping the next bit of work will be an improvement upon both."

Lulu blushed and was silent; once she would have made an angry retort, but she was slowly learning patience and humility.

On arriving at home she set immediately to work at her tasks, nor left off till the tea bell rang. The time had been too short for her to make much progress, and it was quite a trial to have to spend the whole evening in her own room while the others were enjoying the usual pleasant hours of relaxation together; – the sport with the babies, the familiar chat, and interesting reading; but that too she bore with patience.

It was not till the call to evening worship that she joined the family.

When the service was over she drew near her father.