What She Could

The next thing on Mr. Richmond's list was the "School-singing." He explained that he wished the special attention of those who could give it to this matter; that they should always stand ready to help the singing in the Sunday-School, and make it just as good as it could be, and keep it good; that they should not wait for others, if there was no one to lead, but start the hymn themselves and carry it through with spirit.

There were not so many that pledged themselves to this work; but, as before, Maria was one.

The third thing, was "Welcoming strangers and new scholars" in the church and in the school. Here a breeze sprung up. Mr. Richmond had remarked upon the great importance of this duty and the common neglect of it; nevertheless there seemed to be some prospect that the neglect would continue. Mrs. Trembleton asked, "How were such strangers to be welcomed?"

"What would you like yourself, Mrs. Trembleton? Suppose you were to go to a strange church, where you knew nobody. Would it be pleasant to have some one come up and take your hand and say you were welcome? and give you a greeting when you met in the street? – perhaps come to see you?"

"I think," said Mrs. Trembleton, after a pause, "it would depend a good deal on who it was did it!"

"Whether it would be pleasant?" said Mr. Richmond, smiling. "But you do not doubt that it would be pleasant to any stranger to have you come up and speak and shake hands, and do such offices of kindness?"

"It might be pleasant to them," said Mrs. Trembleton. "I don't think I should like to do it to everybody."

"What do you say, Miss Benyon?" Mr. Richmond asked.

"Oh, I couldn't, Mr. Richmond!" the young lady answered, shrinking.

"I'll do it," spoke out one of the boys.

"George Lockwood will welcome strangers, Mr. Van Dyke," said the minister. "And Willie Edwards holds up his hand, – and Ben Barth. But shall we have none but the boys to do the welcoming? The new scholars will not be all boys. Ah! there is Miss Peach; Ellen Peach, Mr. Van Dyke; – and Maria Englefield, – and Sarah Bent."

"Won't it make confusion in the school?" Mr. Van Dyke suggested.

"Will not what make confusion?"

"Why, if half-a-dozen scholars are jumping up and leaving their classes, to receive somebody who is coming in?"

"I did not say that they should choose lesson time – or school time at all – for their kind civilities. After school is over – or when meeting in the street – or going into church. Opportunities will present themselves. It is rather the will that seems to be wanting than the way."

"It seems to me," spoke out another lady, "this welcoming of strangers is everybody's business."

"Proverbially nobody's business, Miss Fitch," Mr. Richmond answered with a smile. "You will leave it for me to do; and I shall conclude that Mrs. Trembleton will attend to it; Mrs. Trembleton does not like the charge; – and there we are. Esther, what do you say?"

"Oh, I should not like to do it, Mr. Richmond!"

Nobody seemed to like to do it. Some were shy; some were humble, or thought they were; some fancied themselves of too little consequence; some of too much! Mr. Richmond went on to the next thing, which was "Temperance Work." Here there was no want of volunteers. Boys and girls and young ladies, and even men, were ready to pledge themselves to this cause. The names were many. It took some time to get them all down.

Then came what Mr. Richmond's list called "Aid and Comfort;" and which he explained to mean, the giving of all sorts of material and social aid that the cases of sick and poor and distressed might call for. Anybody who would visit such cases, and provide or procure what they needed, or anybody unable to visit who would furnish the necessary supplies if called upon, might be enrolled on this committee. Plenty of people were ready for this.

"Visiting absent scholars" found quite a number willing to engage in it. The cause of "Missionary Collections" and "Sunday-School prayer-meetings" found but few; evidently those were not popular objects. "Promoting attendance upon church" did not meet with much favour. The tenth department of work was "Carrying the Message". This Mr. Richmond explained to mean, the telling the good news of Christ to all who have not heard or who do not accept it; to everybody we can reach, at home and abroad, wherever we may. There were not a few who were ready to pledge themselves to this; as also to "Bible Reading" in houses where sickness or poverty or ignorance made such work desirable. But "Tract Distributing," which one would have thought a very kindred effort with the two last, was much more cautiously undertaken. Some boys were ready for it; a few girls; very few grown up people of either sex.

The young people of Mrs. Englefield's family walked home more silently than they had come. To be sure, there was a little throng of persons going their way; they could not speak in private. So under the still, bright stars, they went home without telling any of their thoughts to each other. But perhaps the air was chilly after coming out of the heated lecture-room; for they all poured into the parlour to get warm, before going up-stairs to take off their things.

"Well, you are late," Mrs. Englefield said.

"Yes; but we had, oh, such a nice meeting!" Maria answered.

"What was it all about? Now, I hope, we shall get at some light on the subject."

But the light was not in a hurry to come. Anne and Letitia loosened their bonnet strings, and sat down; Maria and Matilda threw off their cloaks and hoods and sought the fire; nobody volunteered to be spokesman for the party.

"What was done, Clarissa?" her mother asked.

"I can hardly tell, mamma. A sort of association formed, for doing parish work."

"I do not think much of associations," Mrs. Candy said. "People can work just as well in private, if they would only be content. Did you join this association?"

"What is parish work, Clarissa?" Matilda asked.

"Why, work in the parish, of course," Mrs. Englefield answered.

"I don't know what the parish is, mamma?"

"Don't you? Well, – all the people that Mr. Richmond has the care of, I suppose; isn't it, sister?"

"But who has he the care of?" Matilda persisted, looking up at her mother earnestly.

"Well, child," said Mrs. Englefield, half laughing, "in a sort, he has the care of all the people he preaches to."