PREFACE.

I have written this book for little boys. I hope they may like it; although it does not contain any wonderful stories about giants, or genii, or fairies.

I wanted to do them good, as well as to amuse them. Although I do not mention the name of the Saviour in every chapter, I yet try to talk of things that will lead 6their minds up to him. I wish them to feel how good he has been to them, in giving them kind parents to teach them his word, health to enjoy the beauties of creation, and in bestowing on them so many other mercies.

That they may love the Redeemer in their early years, and at last dwell with him in heaven, is the prayer of their friend,

CHAPTER I SUMMER PLEASURES.

Alfred Penrose was a little boy who lived in a pretty town on the banks of the Connecticut River. We will call the place in which Alfred lived Norwood, although that is not its real name.

When the weather was warm Alfred’s father would often take him and his older brothers in a 10little boat upon the river. Sometimes they would row to a pleasant creek, over which large trees drooped their branches until they touched the water. There Alfred’s father and brothers would catch fish, which they carried home to have cooked for breakfast the next morning. They were not cruel enough to use worms for bait. They baited their hook with pieces of raw meat, or dough, which the fish liked quite as well as worms.

While Alfred’s brothers helped their father to fish, the little boy would steal away from them to a small brook which ran through the meadow where his father allowed him to go by himself, because 11there was no danger. Mr. Penrose did not like to have Alfred too near him when he was fishing. The little fellow’s merry laugh and loud voice frightened away the fish. So, as we have said, Alfred would steal away to the little brook, and launch the shingle boat, with its paper sails, which his brother Harry had made for him; or pick his way across the brook on the stepping stones to the sunny bank, in search of the beautiful flowers which peep forth from among the withered leaves of the last year. And handfuls of the pretty light blue flower called innocence would he gather, for it is found everywhere in its season, smiling 12in wood and meadow, by shaded streams, and in the glittering sunshine.

O, very pleasant was the budding spring-time, and the rich, ripe summer season, to little Alfred!

Then they would often bring their dinner with them, and eat it by the pebbly brook, which sung its sweet tune to them as it danced along, and mingled its voice with the merry birds which saluted them from the trees above their heads.

Alfred’s father always received his son’s little love-offering of flowers with a smile.

“I am glad my little boy loves flowers,” he would say. “They 13are God’s beautiful presents to us. How sweetly Jesus speaks of flowers in Matthew vi, 28-30:

“Consider the lilies of the field how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: and yet I say unto you, that even Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these.

“Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?”

CHAPTER II A CONTRAST TO THE FORMER CHAPTER.

When little Alfred returned home, on a Saturday afternoon, from one of the delightful visits to the woods of which I have told you, his mamma lifted him up on the sofa beside her, and said,

“How good our heavenly Father is to my little Alfred! He has given him a kind papa, who loves him dearly. Little boys 15cannot be thankful enough to God for that great blessing. There are many little children who have very unkind fathers. Some of them are wicked enough to spend all their money for rum, and do not get anything for their poor little children to eat.”

Alfred’s little sister Flora had run up to her mamma, to listen to her as she talked with Alfred. She was a tender-hearted little girl, and her lip quivered, and the tears came into her eyes, when she heard about the children who had such naughty fathers.

Then Mrs. Penrose took little Flora upon her lap, and went on talking to Alfred. She said,

“And my little Alfred’s papa 16takes him in the pleasant woods, and in the fields, and lets him gather the sweet flowers which grow there. And he and little Flora can hear the happy birds sing all day long. Now, there are some little children who never see a flower grow, or hear a bird sing, and they scarcely even see the pretty blue sky which is over their heads.”

“O, mamma!” said Alfred, “are they blind and deaf?”

“No, my love, but they live in dark and crowded places in the city. Some live in garrets, and some in cellars, where the houses are high and the streets very narrow. So the beautiful things which God has given us to make 17us glad are quite shut out from them. When I lived in the city I went one day to see a poor family who lived in a cellar, in a dark and dirty court. The father of this family was a drunkard. He had even sold, for rum, the bed on which his sick wife lay. When I went to her, the poor woman had only some straw, in a corner of the cellar, to lie upon. The children had very little fire, although the weather was cold, and nothing to eat, except what people carried them from day to day.

“Among the children was one pale, sickly-looking little boy, named Johnny. He was only eight years old; but his mother 18told me that she did not know what she should have done without little Johnny. He did everything that he could for her during the day; and when she coughed or moved at night, the little boy would run up to her and ask her if she would have some water, or if he should raise her head higher.

“In a corner, Johnny had a faded rose planted in some dirt which he had scooped from the cellar, and put in an old tin cup.

“The rose had been, one day, dropped by a lady, who was walking before Johnny, in Broadway. Johnny was an honest boy. He ran up to the lady, and offered her the rose which she had 19dropped. The lady smiled, and said, ‘You can keep it, my little boy. I do not want it.’

“The rose was then fresh and beautiful. Johnny thought that if he planted it, it might perhaps live. It did take root even in that poor soil, but it could not grow any.

“He looked up into my face, on the day that I first went to see his mother, and said,

“‘O, ma’am! do you think that my rose will live? I have kept it in the warmest place, and watered it every day.’

“‘Yes,’ said his mother, ‘however hungry and cold poor Johnny has been, he never forgot his rose.’

20“I saw when he asked me the question that his rose was nearly dead. The tears came into his eyes when I told him this.

“Poor little boy! The flower was like himself, withering away for want of light and air.

“Just think, Alfred, how happy little Johnny would have been, running with his bare feet through the fields, looking at the golden and speckled butterflies, filling his cap with wild-flowers, and listening to the song of the birds, and the busy hum of the honey-bee!

“One day I took Johnny to my house, and showed him a stand of flowers. He was delighted. He clapped his hands, 21and his eyes sparkled. He smelt the heliotropes and the roses, and he looked at the rich flowers of the cactus. When I gave him a bouquet to carry to his own miserable home, he seemed perfectly happy.

“The next time I went to that dark, gloomy cellar, there the flowers stood in the old tin cup from which the poor rose had been taken.”

Alfred and Flora felt sorry for poor Johnny; but they were glad to hear that his mother got well, and that little Johnny had been put with a farmer, where he could hear the birds sing, and see the brooks and the trees, and pick wild-flowers in the fields.

22When they went to bed they thanked God for many mercies which they had not thought of before.

CHAPTER III THE SNOW.

If the summer season and the spring-time were pleasant to little Alfred, so also were the winter hours.

When the snow came—the fair, beautiful snow, falling so softly and quietly upon the frozen ground, and making every tree look like a fairy bower—Alfred ran about the house, singing:

24When Alfred was very little he had no sled of his own; but his friends, Charles and Arthur Brown, used now and then to give him a ride upon their sled. This he always enjoyed very much.

When he was four years old, Alfred said,

“O, father, I do wish that I had a sled of my own!”

“Why do you wish to have a sled of your own, my son?” said his father. “The boys are so kind as to give you a ride every day.”

“Yes, I know it, papa,” said Alfred; “but I am afraid they take me sometimes when they want to ride themselves. And 25then you know I can only go to ride when their school is out.”

“Indeed,” said Alfred’s mother, “I have thought lately that I would like Alfred to have a sled of his own. He gets his lessons quickly now, so that he is quite through them by eleven o’clock. If he had a little sled he could slide down the terrace two hours before dinner time. It would be good exercise for him.”

Alfred’s father looked pleased to hear that he got his lessons quickly. He said, “I think if Alfred continues to study well he must have a sled of his own.”

“O, father! do please get me one, and have it painted green, with a black stripe around it.”

CHAPTER IV THE SLED AND THE SKATES.

O, how very much pleased was Alfred to find the sled he had asked for standing by his bed one morning when he awoke! As soon as he had washed and dressed himself, and said his prayers, he ran to thank his dear father for his nice present. Alfred’s mamma had bought him a woolen cap, which she wadded and lined, and he had a warm plaid cloak; so he was quite ready for his first ride.

27The snow was frozen very hard, so that the upper crust bore the sled; and merrily, merrily indeed did the little boy slide swiftly down the terrace, and even to the very bottom of the lawn. He did not mind pulling the sled up the hill for the pleasure of riding down.

By and by he looked up at the bed-room window, and saw his little sister Flora’s face looking at him through one of the panes. Alfred was not a selfish boy. He liked to share every pleasure with his sister.

“O, my poor little Flora!” said he, “you must come out and have a ride too.”

So he left his sled, and ran 28into the house to ask his mother if she would not let Flora ride upon the sled. At first his mamma said she was afraid it was too cold for Flora; but when Alfred promised to take great care of her, she said that she might go out with him for a little while. She put on Flora’s warm cap, and coat, and mittens, and comforter, and stood by the window to watch the little ones.

O, how they both enjoyed it! Alfred was very much pleased to have Flora put under his care. He kept her feet covered up, and drew the sled down the terrace very carefully. After a little while Mrs. Penrose sent Ann out to bring Flora into the house. 29When Mr. Penrose came home to dinner, he asked Alfred how he had enjoyed the morning.

“O, father,” said Alfred, “I have been so happy! How much I thank you for my new sled! I will be a very good boy for it.”

“I hope you will be a good boy, Alfred,” said his papa. “You must ask God to keep you from doing wrong; for you know, I suppose, that it is only through his help that we can do a right action. I am always afraid when I hear people boast of what they intend to do.”

Soon after this, Alfred’s father bought him a beautiful little pair of skates, and took him upon the pond to teach him to skate.

30He had thought that winter was almost as pleasant as summer when he first rode upon his sled; but now that he could skate too, he forgot all the pleasures of the summer, and, like Tommy in the looking-glass, wished that it could be “always winter.”

CHAPTER V SCRIPTURE INSTRUCTION.

Before little Alfred could read he knew a great deal of the Bible. He had a volume of Scripture plates, which he would turn over upon his father’s knee, and ask him the meaning of them. Alfred’s father loved the Bible, and he wanted his children 32to love it too; and therefore he took great delight in explaining it to them, and in telling them the beautiful stories which it contains.

There was the picture of Jacob dreaming his sweet dream about the ladder which reached to heaven, on which the angels of God came and went.

And there was brave Daniel in the lions’ den; because he would worship God when the king said he should not.

And there, too, was faithful Abraham, about to offer up to God “his son, his only son Isaac,” whom he loved.

All these, and many more delightful stories from the Bible, Alfred 33and Flora would repeat before they could read.

They both thought and talked a great deal about the Bible.

One day, in the summer time, Alfred and Flora went out together into the garden. They sat down upon a seat under the willow-tree. Little Flora took her doll in her arms when she went out; but when they returned to the house she did not have it with her.

Alfred said,

“Flora, where is your doll?”

“O, brother,” said Flora, “I left her lying on the grass.”

“Why did you leave her there?” inquired Alfred.

“I thought, brother, that maybe 34God would make a gourd grow over her head, like that which grew over Jonah.”

“But the sun is not as hot here as it is in Jonah’s country,” said Alfred. “Besides, she is not flesh and blood.”

Some time after this, when the weather had become cold, Alfred had a cousin, named Rupert, come to spend his vacation with him. Rupert was five years older than Alfred. He had not lived much at home with his parents. He had been almost always at a public school. Alfred had never yet been to school.

Rupert’s mother sent Flora a large doll. She said,

35“O, thank you, cousin! I will name her Miriam.” “Who is Miriam?” said Rupert; for he had not heard of her.

“O, cousin,” said Flora, “Miriam was the dear little sister who watched Moses when he lay in the ark by the river’s side. And it was Miriam who played beautiful music on the timbrel, after the children of Israel had crossed the Red Sea.”

Rupert managed to amuse himself pretty well, for the first few days, with skating, and riding down hill on Alfred’s sled. But after a little time he took a cold, which confined him to the house, and he began to look 36around for something to read. Now there were quantities of very instructive, and very amusing books too, about the house; but there were not fairy tales enough to satisfy Rupert. So, in place of reading, he began to tell Alfred a good many of the wonderful things that he had heard or had read in his own books.

He said that there was once a man who had a wonderful salve, which, when put on a person’s eyes, would make him see all the silver, and gold, and diamonds, and other precious stones in the world.

“Is that true, Rupert?” asked Alfred.

37“True? No, I do not suppose it is true.”

“Then I do not like it as well as that story papa told me the other day about the blind man, on whose eyes Jesus put the eye-salve; for that is true,” said Alfred.

“I will tell you another story, then,” said Rupert, laughing.

“A fairy once gave a cap to a man whose name was Fortunatus. Whenever Fortunatus wished to be anywhere, he had only to put the cap upon his head, and he was in the place where he wished to be, in less than a minute.”

“Is not that true either?” said Alfred.

38“No; fairy tales are never true.”

“I do not think it is as pretty as the story of Elijah, which papa has often told me, nor any more wonderful either. Elijah was taken to heaven in a fiery chariot. There is a great deal about Elijah in the Bible.”

“Well,” said Rupert, “I think you pair my stories pretty well. See if you can match this.

“There was a poor woman who had a good little girl named May-Flower; and one day a fairy brought May-Flower a cow, and told her to milk it. She milked the cow, and it gave milk enough to fill all the dishes and pans in the house; and yet 39the milk still ran, so that there was no end of it. And that one cow made that woman the richest person on the island where she lived.”

Alfred’s mamma had been listening to Rupert’s stories. When he stopped, she smiled and said,

“I think Alfred can match that story.”

“How, mamma? O, I know! Elijah went once to a poor woman, and asked her for a piece of bread, when there was a great famine in the land. The woman had only ‘a handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse;’ but that handful of meal never grew any less, or the oil either, 40until God sent rain to put an end to the famine.”

“Yes, Alfred, that is a match to Rupert’s story: but do not you recollect another miracle, which is quite as wonderful as the story of the cow which gave so much milk?”

Alfred did not, at first, understand what his mamma wanted him to remember, until she said,

“What did the prophet Elisha do for the poor widow whose husband feared God, when they were going to make slaves of her two sons?”

“O, he made one pot of oil fill all the vessels that were in the house; and the woman sold the oil, and paid her debts with it, 41and then had enough money left for herself and her sons to live upon.”[1]

1. See frontispiece.

“Well, those are nice stories,” said Rupert. “I did not know before that there were any such in the Bible.”

Then Alfred said,

“O, you haven’t heard half of them yet. Let me show you my picture of Samuel, and we will get mamma to tell us about him. I never get tired of hearing about little Samuel and his dear, good mother!”

Rupert looked as if he did not care about hearing the story; but he seemed pleased with the picture. It was the picture of a 42beautiful boy, kneeling before a very old man, with a long beard. The sun fell upon the boy’s curls, and made them appear of a golden color.

“Is not little Samuel pretty?” said Alfred. “And that is grandpa Eli. Does not he look good? O, do mamma tell me about him!”

And mamma told him the story; and Rupert seemed to get interested in it before she had finished. I give it to my little readers in the next chapter.

CHAPTER VI LITTLE SAMUEL.

Mrs. Penrose said, “I like to read the stories in the Bible very slowly; and I like to think, as I go along, how the persons of whom I read looked, and how their houses looked, and how they felt when they did certain things of which the Bible tells us. It makes me remember the stories better, and makes me feel as if I had seen all that I read of.

“The story of Samuel always 44appeared to me like a beautiful picture. I seem to see the house in which pious Hannah lived.

“There were many pretty hills in the land of Syria; and perhaps her husband’s house stood on the side of one of them. Olive-trees, with their pale green leaves, and dark cedars, may have shaded the house, for they both grew in that country; and grape-vines, bearing sunny grapes, may have grown over the pleasant porch.

“But I must not indulge my fancy too much: so I will go on with my little story.

“Hannah was a good woman. She had no children: so she prayed to God to give her a child. She said if God would 45do so, her child should be his as long as he lived.

“God heard Hannah’s prayer. He sent her a little son, and then she was very happy.

“Some people make promises to God, and then forget them. This is wicked. Hannah did not do so. She remembered how she had promised God that her little boy should be his child. She called him Samuel; and she took great pains to make Samuel a good boy. She taught him about the true God, and about the Messiah who was to come to redeem his people. She sung him to sleep with holy songs. She taught him to kneel down and pray to the God of Israel 46when he was a very little boy.