The Black Lamb In The Fold

NELLIE HAVEN'S mother had long been sick.

When the cold North winds began to blow, they

left their pleasant home and went to the far

South, hoping the balmy breezes might bring

the roses to her pale cheeks. The large hotel

where they lived was full of people, many of

whom were sick and sorrowful; but there was

not one child for a playmate. As Nellie could

not be all the time with her mother, she grew

very lonely. O how she longed to see her dear

brothers at home.

One day, she saw a funny little black girl lying

in the hot sand, and singing merrily to herself.

This was Patsy, whose duty it was to scour

all the knives. Nellie told her to ask if she

might come and play with her dolls. Patsy

looked amazed as she sprung from her warm

resting-place, and laughingly said: "Missis will

be right glad to let me please the little white

 lady wid a sick modder!" When her work was

done, she laid aside her tow frock, and made

 herself as neat as possible, and with a face 

radiant with delight, she tapped at the parlor 

door. Nellie allowed her to hold her finest doll,

 which she called "Queen Victoria," and which 

ever after blundering little Patsy called "Queen 


"You'se a mighty good little lady," she said,

"last Summer dar was a pert little Miss here

from your place, up dar, and she cry a heap, she

so feared o' me! An' after she find I no hurt

her, she wouldn't touch me, feared de black

would come off! Who larn you be so kind to

black chillen?"

"My mother, Patsy; Have you got a mother?"

 replied little Nellie.

"No, Misse; my mammy she done dead four

year ago; and daddy somethin' corned o' him,

I neber knowed what. Who telled your modder

be good to black folks?"

"Jesus taught her; and she teaches me all his

lessons," said the artless Nellie.

"Jesus! Why, my mammy knowed him!

When I lib wid her and daddy in our cabin,

she used to tell me heaps o' words to say to him.

Mammy's Missus she loved him too; and when

mammy got sick, she come an' read de good

~Book, and talk to Jesus in our cabin. But

quick as one die, den de oder die too; an' I

heerd dey both gone to lib wid him togedder,

I hain't heerd nothin 'bout him since I come to

lib wid dese people. Do you 'spect it's my 

mammy's Jesus dat your mudder knows? I don't

b'l'eve he's in Florida now."

The tears started to Nellie's eyes. "Yes,

Patsy," she said, "there is but one Jesus; and

some day when mamma is better, she will tell

you all about him, and teach you some of his

sweet lessons."

So gentle and winning was the poor child, that

when Spring came with health on its wings, Mrs.

Haven resolved, as a thank-offering to Him who

had spared her to shelter her own little fold, to

gather the black lamb among them. With the

consent of the family with whom she lived, Patsy

came to the North with them. She has now

learned that Jesus lives in Florida, as 

everywhere else; and often does she "talk," as in

 the days of her infancy, "to mammy's Jesus." 

Now, dear children, you see how much was done

through the kindness of one little girl. Had

Nellie, when lonely, tossed her head, saying, "I

won't play with a black child, nor let her touch

my playthings!" where would Patsy have been

to-day? One kind word to the despised may

lead to great results; therefore never turn away

scornfully from any of God's creatures. 

Young Reaper.