For The Little Ones.


I WONDER how many there are of the little

folks who like this part of the paper best.

I think there is quite a number who always

ask the one who reads to them to turn to this

"Corner" and read it first. Now, if you will

make room, I will take a seat with you, and

tell you something about my rose-bush; for

I am sure you all love flowers, and love to

hear about them.

A little boy hearing me say that I wished

to have a monthly rose-bush, brought me a

tiny slip. It was so late in the fall that some

told me it would be useless to do anything

with it; for it certainly could not live through

the cold winter. But I kept it in a warm

place, and gave it plenty of soft water. Instead

of dying, as we feared it might, it grew

nicely all winter.

When the snow was on the ground, and the

wind was howling out-doors, still the little

green leaves kept unfolding, one after another,

till it appeared quite like a bush. As the sun

rose higher in the sky, and the days grew

warmer, some little buds appeared. One of

them, the largest, I have been watching

closely until this morning it has blossomed

into a bright red rose. I placed it in the

open window to get the fresh air and sunshine.

It had been there but a few moments

when a pretty little brown bird came and

perched himself on the grape-vine close by,

and sung me as sweet a bird song as I ever

heard. He looked toward the window, and

seemed to say, in his way, "I thank you, Miss

Jennie, for giving me the first sight of your

beautiful rose." And it may be he would

gladly have built his nest in its branches if he

could get a chance; but he didn't say so.

I do not write this merely to tell you about

my rose, but to speak also of the thoughts it

has suggested to my mind. I think by watching

the progress of this little bush, I have

been drawn nearer to the Lord. I behold His

great wisdom in painting the stem brown, the

leaves green, and the flower red. The stem

and leaves have no fragrance; but when the

rich blossom opened, a sweet odor was sent

out from it. Even now while I am writing,

three more buds have unfolded their rich

leaves to the light.

There are many children who are poor, and

perhaps not very attractive to the gay and

fashionable world around them. They are

neglected by many who think they will never

amount to anything. But if they give their

hearts to the Lord, they will be beautiful in

his sight. He can make love and all the

Christian graces grow in their hearts. They

can each day be growing up into Christ, and

forming characters for Heaven, just as the little

bush became larger and prettier. And

when Christ comes, as the rose-buds that

bursted into beautiful blossoms by exposure

to the rays of the warm sun, so will these

children be made immortal, and become jewels

in the kingdom of God. And what the

Lord calls jewels must be very beautiful indeed.

Children, do you love flowers? Get some

that you can call your own, water them and

care for them, and you will be surprised to

see how wonderfully the Lord can make them

grow. 


ED.



FANNY'S GARDEN.

"I LOVE the roses fragrant;

For they are fair and sweet;

I love the modest daisy

That blossoms at my feet;

I love the stately lily,

It is so pure and white;

I love the purple pansy,

So innocent and bright."

Thus Fanny said, and planted

These flowers in the spring;

It was the time for gardens

When birds were on the wing.

But, ah! How long she waited

Before the blossoms grew,

They needed so much sunshine,

And rain, and air, and dew!

Her mother saw her watching,

And said to her one day:

"No wonder you are weary

With such a long delay.

I, too, have a fair garden

Where I must work and wait;

I sometimes fear the blossoms

Will come for rue too late.

"I planted truth and virtue,

And faith, and hope, and love;

I taught the little tendrils

The way to climb above.

They are so slow in growing,

It makes the tear-drops start;

That garden fair, my darling,

Is little Fanny's heart!"




—The Bright Side