The Pearl of Patience:

OR,

MAURICE, AND KITTY MAYNARD.

BY MRS. MADELINE LESLIE.

"To them who by patient continuance in well-doing, seek for glory, and honor, and immortality; eternal life." ROM. 2:7.

BOSTON:

PUBLISHED BY A. F. GRAVES,

20 CORNHILL.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by REV. A. R. BAKER, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Massachusetts.

PRATT BROTHERS, Stereotypers and Printers, 37½ CORNHILL, BOSTON.

MRS. LESLIE'S

BIBLE PEARLS.

Series for Boys.

VOL. I. THE PEARL OF LOVE.

VOL. II. THE PEARL OF CHARITY.

VOL. III. THE PEARL OF OBEDIENCE.

VOL. IV. THE PEARL OF PENITENCE.

VOL. V. THE PEARL OF HOPE.

VOL. VI. THE PEARL OF PATIENCE.

MRS. LESLIE'S

BIBLE PEARLS.

Series for Girls.

VOL. I. THE PEARL OF FAITH.

VOL. II. THE PEARL OF DILIGENCE.

VOL. III. THE PEARL OF MEEKNESS.

VOL. IV. THE PEARL OF FORGIVENESS.

VOL. V. THE PEARL OF CONTENTMENT.

VOL. VI. THE PEARL OF PEACE.

To FRANK RANDALL, RUTH, MAY, RANDOLPH MORGAN, AND JAMES WALDINGFIELD,

CHILDREN OF

D. F. APPLETON, ESQ., NEW YORK, THESE "BIBLE PEARLS" ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED BY THE AUTHOR.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. MAURICE'S SPELLING LESSON

CHAPTER II. MAURICE'S TOOTHACHE

CHAPTER III. KITTY MAYNARD

CHAPTER IV. GRANDMA'S SETTING HEN

CHAPTER V. VISIT TO KITTY

CHAPTER VI. KITTY'S STORY

CHAPTER VII. MAURICE LEARNING PATIENCE

CHAPTER VIII. JIMMY BARNARD'S SIN

CHAPTER IX. CONCLUSION

The Pearl of Patience.

CHAPTER I.

MAURICE'S SPELLING LESSON.

"THERE'S the breakfast bell, Maurice."

The little fellow was sitting on the floor, trying to the knot in his shoe, which he had twitched off in haste the before. He looked up as Nurse spoke, with an impatient scowl.

Presently his mamma came from her room and seeing him still undressed, exclaimed,—

"What, Maurice! Not ready yet?"

"I can't untie my shoe, mamma."

She took up the shoe, glanced at the knot, and smiled as she let it fall again.

"I don't think you've tried, my dear. It isn't a hard knot."

"I did try ever so much; but it wouldn't come out of the tangle."

"Shall I do it for him?" asked Nurse, who had almost spoiled the boy by indulgence.

"No, Hannah. He must learn to be patient in conquering these little difficulties, else how will he ever get through the great ones, he will certainly meet in life."

"Come, Maurice, I'm quite ashamed that a boy nearly five years old should sit moping on the floor, when one minute of patient effort would untie your shoe. Nurse, has Cook carried in the coffee and muffins yet?"

"Oh, mamma! Are there muffins for breakfast?"

"Not for tardy boys, certainly. However, I will allow you five minutes to finish your dressing; and as Nurse has given you your bath, and curled your hair, you can easily be ready, if you try."

Maurice caught up his shoe in a hurry, began to twitch and pull; looked as if he was going to cry, but with a sudden thought bent his whole energies to the work, and laughed aloud when it was accomplished.

"I'm glad you didn't help me, Hannah," he exclaimed, joyfully. "I can pull knots out now, just as easy."

"To be sure you can," she answered, giving him a kiss, and hurrying him away to be in time for his favorite muffins.

A few hours later he sat in his little study-chair, his spelling-book open before him, while he was gazing at the cat trying to catch her own tail.

"See, mamma!" he exclaimed, laughing. "Isn't puss silly to run round that way?"

"I have nothing to do with kitty now. She is not in my school," replied the lady, with a smile. "I suppose you can say your lesson very perfectly, as you have time to watch cats."

Maurice blushed and caught up his book.

"F-o-l-l-y, folly," he spelled, in a whisper, then stopped again.

"Mamma, what's the use of learning to spell so many words?"

"Some other time I will explain that," she answered, pleasantly.

"H-o-l-l-y, holly," he went on. "Is that holly that grows on trees?"

"Yes, my dear, it is a small tree or rather shrub."

"I can say my lesson now, mamma." He held out the book.

"Can you spell the word patience?"

"That isn't in my lesson."

"I'm afraid not."

"Why do you say afraid, mamma?"

"Because I want very much that you should learn the meaning of the word; and then perhaps you would try to practise it. Now spell after me, p-a-t-i-e-n-c-e."

"It's hard to remember," he said, with a blush.

"Now for the meaning, Maurice. This morning it meant, 'try, try again to untie your shoe.' Now it means 'study over and over your lesson, not allowing yourself to be weary or diverted from your book, until you have learned it thoroughly.' The Bible speaks of 'patient continuance in well-doing,' and tells us to 'let patience have her perfect work.'"

"I am sorry to say, Maurice, that you are sadly wanting in patience and—"

"Mamma, I did get out the knot," exclaimed the boy, his cheeks crimsoning.

"Yes, at last you applied yourself to the business; if you had done that at first you would have prevented the reproof your papa gave you for tardiness, which he so much dislikes."

Without another word, Maurice set himself to his task with a will. Over and over again he whispered the words, his finger patiently following down the column. Not even when kitty, tired of her play, came to him with a plaintive "meow," did he turn his eyes from his book.

"Well done, Maurice!" exclaimed his mother, who had been watching him with a smile. "I may as well get out the memorandum-book, for I'm sure of having to put down the word perfect this morning."

He stood erect before her, his hands folded behind his back. He had conquered his lesson and was very happy in the thought that he had conquered himself. It was no matter now, whether his mamma went straight on with the words, or commenced at the bottom of the line, or whether she skipped about, he was sure of every syllable.

"It's a pleasure to hear such a lesson as that," said the lady.

"I'm going to be patient all the time, mamma," he cried, jumping up and down. "Now I'm going to get my geography."

Every lesson that morning was well learned, and the boy who usually dragged away the whole day at his studies, to his mother's great annoyance, now fairly earned the right to a long recess.

All in the family, from Cook in the kitchen, to Tom the stable-boy, knew by Maurice's bright, happy face, that something unusual had happened, and rejoiced with him in his efforts to learn patience.

CHAPTER II.

MAURICE'S TOOTHACHE.

MRS. SEYTON did not expect that her son would conquer his old habit in a day, nor a week. She truly rejoiced that he had learned even by one day's experience the pleasure and reward of "patient continuance in well doing;" and she encouraged him by every means in her power. Before the close of the week, however, he began to return to his old habit, repeating over and over again, in querulous tones,—

"It's so hard, mamma, I can't learn it. Mamma, this name isn't on the map."

"Have you looked thoroughly?"

"I think I have; but the print is so fine."

Or he would declare half-a-dozen times,—

"I've learned it, mamma; will you please hear me, and let me go and play?"

When the truth was, that he had not given the lesson one moment of real, patient study.

A few weeks after this, Maurice came to his mamma's chamber in the middle of the night, crying with the toothache.

The lady, like a kind mother as she was, instantly arose and applied some balsam to the decayed spot, stuffed in some cotton to keep the air out, took him into her own bed, and told him to try and go to sleep.

But the child was thoroughly roused, and the pain being somewhat relieved, he wanted to talk. His papa and mamma were very sleepy. When he found they did not answer he would cry out again,—

"Oh, my tooth! How it does ache! It's awful bad, mamma!"

"Try to bear it as patiently as you can," urged mamma, softly. "If you keep still, you'll fall asleep and forget the pain. You know papa has to go to town very early to-morrow."

But Maurice did not feel inclined to bear it patiently. He thought his father and mother and the whole family ought to be doing something to make him better: if he couldn't sleep, he thought they ought to keep awake too.

At last, his father, quite worn out with his complaints, went off to another room; his mother sung a soothing lullaby and toward morning he fell into a sound slumber.

"Come, Maurice," said Mr. Seyton, at breakfast, "I'm going to take you into town with me. The dentist will soon cure your toothache."

"Oh, papa!" screamed the boy, holding his face with both hands. "Please don't; it doesn't ache at all, now."

"Let me look at it."

Maurice reluctantly opened his mouth.

"There is a small decayed spot," he said to his wife; "but nothing to make such a fuss about as he did last night. The dentist will either fill it or take it out."

"Pull it, do you mean, papa? Oh, I can't have it pulled!"

"Hush that, now! You made enough noise last night to have a dozen teeth pulled."

"I wont say another word, papa, if it aches again. I'll stay in bed, and try to go to sleep."

"All very fine, I dare say; but I can't risk being kept awake half the night, and made unfit for business by the headache; and there's your mamma too, who sang herself hoarse because you wouldn't put a little patience into exercise; and now her eyes look terribly inflamed, with the gas burning directly in her face. Come, eat your breakfast quick; I'm in a hurry."

The boy's plate was piled with fritters; and he was very fond of syrup on them; but his mamma cautioned him that the sweet might make his tooth ache again.

"I don't believe it will," he exclaimed. "It's all well now."

"Take syrup, if you like," said his father, "but if your teeth aches, don't let us hear a word of complaint."

He had scarcely taken the first mouthful when he gave a shriek, and ran away from the table. He had no appetite for any more cakes, and in a few minutes found himself on his way to town.

CHAPTER III.

KITTY MAYNARD.

ALL that I have about Maurice happened in the spring. Early in the summer he went with his mamma to the country to spend three months with grandma and grandpa Seyton.

Papa's business kept him in the city, but he came down to F— every Saturday night, and promised to try hard for a two weeks' vacation in August.

Almost the first question Mrs. Seyton asked was,—

"How is Kitty Maynard?"

"About the same," was grandma's answer. "She has convulsions nearly every day; but she's the most patient, cheerful creature I ever heard of."

"Who is Kitty Maynard, mamma? And what is the matter with her?"

"I must go and see her to-morrow," remarked the lady, not answering her son. "Indeed I generally make my first visit there."

"The pieces of silk and velvet you sent, did her a world of good," grandma went on. "I believe the cushions and knickknacks she's made of them have brought her in near thirty dollars. Poor thing, you ought to have seen her when I unrolled the bundle and laid 'em out, one by one. You'd have thought she'd had a present of a mine of gold. She worked and worked with her poor deformed hands, trying to hold them up and plan what they'd make, till my heart fairly ached. And all the time not a lisp of complaint or impatience."

"Her happy disposition makes her an object of envy," remarked Maurice's mamma.

"'Tisn't her happy disposition," urged grandpa, coming into the room time enough to hear the last words. "That is, if you're speaking of Kitty Maynard, though, no doubt, a cheerful, even temper does help people to go through trouble. She has something better than that for her support: a spirit of grace in her heart, which enables her to be patient in tribulation, remembering that all her pains are ordered by One who watches over the humblest of His creatures with infinite tenderness."

"Mamma, may I go with you?" asked Maurice eagerly, as the lady was tying on her bonnet the next morning, preparatory to her walk.

"Yes, my dear; and if grandma is willing; we will pick a bouquet of mignonette, roses and verbenas. Kitty always liked flowers."

"Gather as many as you please, Mary," the old lady said, laughing. "I don't know who has a better right, as you send all the plants. Yes, Kitty thinks a deal of a bouquet. I've got a bowl of strawberries too, that Maurice may take if he has a mind."

"What's that in your bundle, mamma?"

"It's a loose gown, made of calico, so that it can be washed. I saw the print in the store and thought it just the thing for Kitty." She untied the bundle and held the robe up for inspection.

It was a neat, tasteful pattern of French calico; a tiny rose and bunch of leaves on a drab ground, trimmed down the front and sleeves with stripes of print to match.

"Just Kitty's style!" said grandma approvingly. "This will be one of her happy days, marked with a white stone, as she calls it."

But the old lady was mistaken. It was one of Kitty's worst days. Ever since light she had been in dreadful convulsions, more severe than she had had for months.

Maurice and his mother walked to the side of the bed through the open door; and no one seemed at leisure to notice them. There lay the poor, deformed girl on a couch in the centre of the small, neat room, at the foot of which her mother sat weeping, while two girls, sisters of Kitty, assisted the doctor in keeping her as much as possible from hurting herself.

Maurice grew so pale at the sight of her terrible suffering, her head and feet sometimes knocking together, that his mother whispered him to put his bouquet and strawberries on the table and stay outside till she came.

It was near twenty minutes before she joined him; and then poor Kitty had sunk into a stupor. Maurice glanced timidly in his mamma's face as, just motioning him to follow, she started for home. There was an expression on it which he did not understand.

It was true that Mrs. Seyton was deeply affected at the sight she had witnessed. As she stood there, watching the distorted features, the eyes rolled up in agony, the teeth set, she asked herself,—

"Could I endure such suffering without a murmur? Could I say with a smile of resignation, such as I have often seen her wear, 'It is my Heavenly Father, my best-loved, and long-tried friend who sends the chastisement; and shall I not patiently endure what it is his will to afflict?'"

CHAPTER IV.

GRANDMA'S SETTING HEN.

"I THOUGHT Kitty Maynard was an old woman, mamma," said Maurice, just before they reached home.

"Kitty is only nineteen years old," the lady answered. "I remember her, when she was as healthy and active as you. Sometime I will tell you her story. Now I feel too sad to talk with you about anything."

"Will she eat the strawberries, mamma?"

"Perhaps so, by and by. Her sister, Hepsey Maynard, told me she was very fond of them, and that they agreed well with her."

"You have made a long call," remarked grandma, as they entered. "I suppose you waited to see Kitty dressed in her new gown."

"No, mother, she didn't know me to-day. I just hung it on a hook in the closet and said nothing about it."

"Is she worse than usual?"

"I have never seen her so dreadfully convulsed. The doctor says she can't endure it long. He has decided to try the effect of a new method of treatment."

Maurice soon ran out to improve his holiday by visiting his favorite haunts around the farm. Ponto, the old dog, was sunning himself in front of his comfortable house, and came lazily forward, blinking his eyes, to meet the little fellow. It was evident, even to the boy, that his days for frolic and fun were over. After a few loving pats and kind words:

"Poor Ponto! Good fellow!" Maurice ran on toward the barn.

Here he found plenty to amuse him. There were a couple of kids with their anxious mother bleating because they were out of her sight. Maurice laughed heartily as he watched their manœuvres. The old goat was tied to a ring in the stall; but the kids, being free to run where they liked, kept her worrying for their safety by hiding beyond the high enclosure, or creeping over a huge pile of straw bedding.

The dinner bell rang twice before he heard it. He could scarcely believe the morning had passed away.

"I do like holidays so much," he exclaimed. "I wish, mamma, you'd let me wait till next Monday before I begin my lessons."

Mamma shook her head. "Play as much as you please to-day," she answered pleasantly. "After that, you can decide for yourself whether to linger over your books for six hours or apply yourself vigorously for three."

"Hasn't he outgrown that habit of dawdling over his lessons?" asked grandpa, looking at the boy with an arch smile that brought the blushes to his cheek.

"He'll answer for himself to-morrow," replied the lady.

About four o'clock in the afternoon, Mrs. Seyton put on her bonnet again, to go to Mr. Maynard's cottage, when Maurice ran in, his apron full of eggs.

"Oh, grandma, see what I've found," he cried, "while I was feeding the fowls. There was a cross old hen setting on 'em, and I had to take a stick and whip her before she'd get off."

"Why, Maurice Seyton, you've spoiled a whole brood of chickens! They'd have been out of the shell in two or three days. It's a terrible pity you touched 'em."

Maurice feeding Grandma's Fowls.

Grandpa then explained to him the danger of disturbing the mother hen when she was hatching her young; and he was so much disappointed that he began to cry.

"I never will drive off another hen," he said, winking back his tears. "I do love little mites of chickens, dearly."

His mother gave him permission to accompany her again to see Kitty, and waited while he washed his face and changed his sack.

Kitty lay perfectly quiet, now, her poor, deformed fingers outside the white counterpane. Her transparent skin showed the blue veins in her forehead, but the peace of God was manifest there also.

"Had I better go in?" whispered Mrs. Seyton to Hepsey at the door.

"Yes, she knows you've been here, and she'd be disappointed not to see you; but she can't talk much."

Mrs. Seyton walked softly to the bed, followed by Maurice, and bending over the pale sufferer, kissed her cheek.

It was delightful to see the bright flush of pleasure that for one instant beautified Kitty's whole face, then she said feebly,—

"Thank you for coming. Is that your son?"

Maurice shyly gave his hand.

"I am sorry to see you so feeble and languid," began the lady.

"I am seldom so weak as to-day. I have had a comfortable winter on the whole, and so many blessings." These words were uttered with great emphasis, and with a smile.

"God is so merciful," the dear girl went on, "whenever I have worse spasms than usual, he gives me patience to endure them."

"That I am sure of," was Mrs. Seyton's tearful reply.

"And then he raises up so many friends for me. Sometimes, in the night, I lie and think of all he has done for me during the past nine years; and I can hardly keep from singing: 'Praise the Lord, O my soul; and forget not all his benefits.'"

CHAPTER V.

VISIT TO KITTY.

MAURICE had stood during the whole interview, his eyes fastened on the sick girl, fascinated by her sweet smile, and low-spoken words, and at last, when she turned to him and asked,—

"Are you the kind boy who brought me a dinner of strawberries?"

He blushed with pleasure.

As nothing was said about the dressing-gown, Mrs. Seyton did not allude to it, and, fearing to fatigue Kitty, soon rose to leave.

"I'm so glad you've come early this year," murmured the invalid. "It'll be so nice to have you run in every day as you used to."

"She's been counting the days till July," added her sister, eagerly. "She thought you'd be here by the Fourth."

"I'll come any time to read to you, if Hepsey will let me know when you are able. It is a favor to me, Kitty, to be with you. We settled that last year, you remember; and Maurice, I'm sure, will love to run of errands for you."

The little fellow scarcely spoke all the way home. What do you suppose he was thinking of? Why, he was wondering how much worse Kitty's pain was than his toothache; and whether she ever had that, and how she learned to bear all her sufferings so patiently. He wondered, too, whether she had to study and do sums. As she lay in the bed she did not look much taller than he, and mamma said she was not a woman but a girl.