The Pearl of Love: or, Josey's Gift

"Miss Fanny sent me to put on my bonnet," urged nurse. "She said you were in a hurry."

"No one is to blame, nurse," said her kind master. "It is simply unfortunate."

Mile after mile they drove on, only meeting an occasional carriage, until they came in sight of Easton Parsonage. Here the lights were all out, except one in the chamber; and there persons could be seen moving about.

A vigorous knock soon brought Mr. Matthews to the door. "I heard wheels," he said, "and more than half suspected who it was. We made a sad mistake."

Martin came down, her face very red, bringing baby Emma, and Ann gladly gave up her charge.

Mrs. Matthews soon appeared with marks of tears.

"Wasn't it dreadful!" she exclaimed, with a fresh burst of grief. "I wanted to go right back. We were only two miles from the city when we found out we had brought away the wrong baby; but Mr. Matthews said no, we must keep her till morning. He thought it very careless of us, but" —

"There was no carelessness about it," urged Fanny, indignantly. "Mrs. Reed wanted to help; and she put on the wrong cloaks, that was all. There was never a thought with us of not coming back. Brother wouldn't have hesitated if it had been twice as far. We knew you'd want your baby, and we wanted ours."

"I thought you would understand that we should keep your little Miss till morning," explained Mr. Matthews.

"But mothers have such tender hearts," added Mr. Codman, "and we ought to thank God for it. Come, wife, we must be off. We have fourteen miles to go, and it's almost twelve o'clock."

"There's a difference in ministers as in other folks," whispered Martin aside to Ann. "Mr. Matthews scolded well, and wouldn't hear of going back; but your master did as he would be done by."

"Just like his text," returned Ann. "'Be ye kind one to another.'"

CHAPTER IV.

JOSEY'S TEMPER

It was a little past two when the weary family alighted at their own door. For the last few miles, the moon had been clouded; the horses were tired; and they had to drive with care.

"Tell Cook we'll have a late breakfast," said mamma, taking her babe with a kiss. "Now, Nurse, go and get all the sleep you can."

The following morning, Josey couldn't remember coming home at all. He opened his large hazel eyes very wide, as Aunt Fanny told him what had happened.

"I'm glad we found her; isn't you?" he asked, again and again.

Baby Emma received a great many extra kisses that day, and the next, and whenever mamma thought about the mistake. But one week after another passed on, Mr. Codman preaching once in a while, until Spring came again.

When Emma was a year and a half old, she was full of mischief; and Josey, who was now five, sometimes got out of patience. He was just learning to read, and liked nothing better than to sit on Aunt Fanny's knee and hear her tell stories. Sometimes Emma, finding no one watching, would get to mamma's basket and overturn all the spools, or tangle the thread, and then Aunt Fanny had to start up and attend to her, and stop the stories very short.

Or baby would climb on a chair to her brother's shelf and pull his nice books to the floor. Once, indeed, he came in from a walk, and found mamma busy with a caller, and Emma, who had been left there while Nurse went an errand, doing a great deal of mischief. She had a new book in her hand, and just as he found her she was tearing out three or four leaves, laughing and shouting with delight. Josey ran to take his book away; but it was too late. His Christmas present was spoiled. Poor boy! he cried as if his heart would break, and was very angry with his sister, more so than his mamma had ever seen him. He struck her little fat hand, exclaiming, —

"You are naughty! naughty! and I don't love you any more."

The visitor rose to go, and Mrs. Codman did not detain her. She was so grieved at her little boy's actions, she could scarcely command her voice to say "good-bye." She rung the bell for Ann, and then, taking Josey by the hand, led him away to his own chamber.

He glanced up into his mamma's face and saw it was very white, and he began to be sorry for his bad temper.

"Oh, Josey!" she commenced at last, seating him on her knee, "do you know how you've grieved mamma?" and then the tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"Emma tore my best book," he said, softly.

"Emma is only a baby, Joseph, and didn't know any better. If you hadn't struck her, papa would have bought you another one. But, Josey, you gave way to your anger, and told your darling little sister that you didn't love her."

"I think she's too big to tear my pictures out," he said, sighing.

"She must be taught to let your things alone," answered mamma, "and you must remember to put them out of her way; but all the pictures in the world wouldn't excuse you for treating her so unkindly. Don't you remember that pretty verse you learned last Sunday? 'Be kindly affectioned one to another, in honor preferring one another.' Papa explained to you what it Meant."

"I'm sorry, mamma; but I want my pretty book."

"I'm sorry, too."

She said these words in such a sad tone that Joseph softened at once. He threw his arms around her neck, exclaiming, —

"Mamma, I'm going to be good and love God like little Samuel in the temple."

She held him close to her breast, whispering, "'He who loveth God, loveth his brother also.' This is what St. John tells us. 'If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar.'"

"Oh, mamma! I'm real sorry."

"And he says, too, 'My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue, but in deed and in truth.'"

"What does that mean, mamma, to love in deed?"

"It means that it does no good merely to say 'I love you, I love God;' but we must show it by our actions."

"How could I show Emma, mamma, when she was tearing my book?"

"Think for yourself, Josey."

He looked very serious, his cheeks growing more and more red, but at last he said, softly, —

"I might have taken the book away, and put it up high; and I might think, 'She is so little, she don't know any better;' and after I said, 'naughty, naughty!' as you and papa do, then I could kiss her."

"Yes, my own darling, that would have been Christ-like, loving, kind, and forgiving; and your heart, instead of burning with anger toward your precious sister, would have been filled with the sweetest emotion, such as is implied by the words, 'Be kindly affectioned one to another.'"

"May I go and kiss Emma now, mamma?"

"Yes, darling; and I hope you will learn how pleasant love is, especially between brothers and sisters."

CHAPTER V.

JOSEY'S CHRISTMAS

Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, had come and gone; and now Josey was seven years old, and Emma was baby no longer. There was a tiny girl in the cradle who was named Grace. The family had returned to their own home; Mr. Codman preached to his old people.

Aunt Fanny was still with them, though she had agreed to go on a mission to India with a gentleman now studying for the ministry. She was the same ardent girl as before, loving her brother's family, and devoted to their comfort.

Joseph had from his birth been much in her care and was a prime favorite. She had grieved with his parents at the unkindness and impatience he had sometimes shown his sister; and she rejoiced with them that he was becoming so kind and affectionate.