BEES. From a most charming work, called "A Tour Round my Garden," translated from the French of Alphonse Karr, and revised and edited by the distinguished English naturalist the Rev. J. G. Wood, M. A., F. R. S., we take some interesting remarks upon the nature and habits of bees, which, though they have been studied and written about by hundreds of people, from Aristotle, Pliny and Virgil down, the world has really known very little about. After quoting and laughing at a number of gravely ridiculous statements made by these old writers, in which a great deal of ingenious untruth is mixed with a very little truth, he says, "We will content ourselves, in the journey we are about to make round my hive, with the things we shall see with our two eyes." PHILADELPHIA, OCTOBER, 1856. of resin, called propolis, which they find upon certain trees-firs, yews, birches, &c.; next pollen, or the fecundating powder of flowers, of which they make bee-bread; and then they plunder the nectaries of flowers for a juice which becomes honey. "Here is one bringing materials. After having rolled itself in the pollen of flowers, it has, with its hind feet made spoon fashion, and armed with hairs as rough as those of a brush, gathered together in little pellets the grains of pollen which have remained about the hairs with which its body is covered. There are five or six bees whose baskets are well laden. Some have collected their burden from a single flower; and it is easy to ascertain from what flower, however far it may grow from the hive. The powder this one bears is white; the bee has been wallowing, if we may use such a word, in a mallow, whilst his companion, covered with brown powder, has been plundering the tulips. That yellow pollen comes from the blossom of a melon, &c. &c. Some of those who arrive enter the door; others deliver up their provisions to other bees who receive them at the door, and as soon as they have got rid of their burden they resume their flight. They are not at all less busy inside of the hive than without; these make with wax hexagonal cells, in which others come and disgorge honey; other cells are kept empty; these are the nests destined for the young bees. "The hive is peopled by three sorts of bees; first, one female, that is the queen; males, called drones, to the number of nearly two thousand; and eight or ten thousand workers, without sex. The queen lays at least six thousand eggs in a "What a concourse at the opening of the hive! year! Of these eggs, some will produce females Never was the public square of a great city wit- like herself; others, males; and the remainder, ness of such agitation! Some bees are coming in still greater numbers, workers without sex. out in great haste, and flying away to a distance Whilst the queen is engaged in the duties of proin search of provisions, whilst others are return-viding another generation, all the workers are ing loaded with them. We must, in the first place, ascertain what the bees thus go to seek in the neighboring country: The first thing is a sort busy with the cradles and the food of the numerous family which she will soon bring into the world. [No. 10. "Then arrives a period when the workers have a great operation to perform; the males have completed their destiny, and being from that time useless and an incumbrance, the workers make a general massacre of them, and cast their carcases out of the colony. The queen begins to lay; followed by a train of working bees, she commences her progress over the cells. When, after examining the interior of one of these cells, she finds it to her mind, she deposits an egg in it and resumes her march. During all this time, the workers which surround her lick her, clean her, and offer her honey with their little trunks. All the cells are not of the same size; some of similar form to the ordinary cells destined to contain provisions, and to serve as nests for the eggs which are to produce common bees, are larger by a ninth than these; they will be the cradles of the males. Others of a different form, of a rounded and oblong figure, are destined to contain the eggs which will become females like the queen. "Bees employ admirable economy in the use of their wax. Several learned geometricians have endeavored to prove what should be the form of cells that would require the least possible wax, and, as the result of their problem, have arrived at the conclusion that it is exactly that which is adopted by the bees. Well, but when the object is to build a royal cell, they renounce this economy altogether: a single one of these cells requires as much wax as a hundred and fifty ordinary cells. According to the time of year, the queen chooses, for depositing her eggs, of these three sorts of cells. Such of the cells as contain the provision of honey are hermetically sealed with lids of wax; those in which the eggs are placed are left uncovered; these eggs are of a bluish white. Two days afterwards, from this egg issues a worm; several times in the course of the day a working bee brings it food. A bee often passes over several cells without stopping; the reason of which is that it finds the worms sufficiently provisioned. In proportion with the growth of the worms, their food, a kind of pap which they give them, becomes more substantial and is otherwise composed. A paste quite different in taste is given to the worms which are to become queens. At the end of six days the worms are about to be transformed, and no more food is brought to them; the workers fasten them into their cells by placing lids of wax over them. The worm thus shut up lines its dwelling with a hanging of extremely fine silk, and then undergoes two transformations. At the second it is a perfect bee. "The bee opens the lid with its teeth, and comes out of the cell. During this time other bees clean out the cell that has just been abandoned, taking away the cast-off vestments of the worm, and carrying them out of the hive; with equal care they remove the little particles of wax which may have fallen into the cell when the lid was pierced. Other bees tear away all that remains of this lid. In a word, they restore the cells to a condition to receive a fresh egg, or to become a magazine for honey. The young bee enters at once upon its functions; two hours after its birth you could not recognize it but by its color, which is rather gray, whilst the others become reddish as they grow old. As soon as its wings are smooth and shining, it goes out, flies away, and does not return till laden. But not only one bee at a time is thus born, more than a hundred issue from their cells on the same day; so that, at the end of a few weeks, the hive is over.peopled. "One morning, you observe a kind of revolution. The activity which reigned round the hive has suddenly disappeared. A few bees only come out and return, lightly laden.. A colony is about to separate itself from the parent hive, and go and seek another home. About ten o'clock in the morning, when the sun shines brightly, a great buzzing is heard in the hive; some bees fly out in a tumultuous state---they precede the old queen. She soon appears; she is much longer and larger than the working bees; her wings scarcely extend over half the length of her body; her hind feet are not hollowed into the shape of a spoon; she has no necessity for traveling far, and brings home no burdens. She is not destined to work. Her particular part is to be, literally, the mother of her people. "At no great distance, the first bees that come out go and heap themselves up in large clusters around the branch of some tree; the queen comes amongst them; then all the bees, before spread about in the air; come and cling around her. Most of these are young workers, who follow the fortunes of their royal mother; some old ones, however, of a restless character, come out with the colony and abandon the metropolis. There they remain assembled for more than a quarter of an hour, and sometimes much longer; then they resume their flight in search of a more convenient establishment. It is during these moments of hesitation and immobility, that the swarm is easily swept entire into a hive in which, finding themselves. comfortably installed, they remain willingly, and on the morrow commence their labors. If by charce a part only of the swarm has been taken, and the queen is not among the captives, none of the bees will work; there will be neither wax nor honey made in the hive. The motive which gives such ardor to the workers, is the certainty of having among them a fruitful mother, whose young family it is their duty to feed and bring up. "In general the drones have remained, if not all, almost all, in the old hive. The other queens are massacred, and their bodies dragged out. It sometimes happens that at the moment of the coming out of the swarm, two young mothers at once pretend to the sovereignty of the new colony. In fact, sometimes twenty of them are born in a single hive. If two queens come out at the same time, the swarm divides, but unequally; each of the two queens establishes herself and her partisans upon a different branch. "It is evident that when two young mothers leave the old hive at the same time, the bees must make a choice; but it is difficult to ascer- "I do not perceive that yellow birds enjoy "The government of the bees, I must admit, has, with reason, been represented as a model of the best monarchy that can possibly exist; but it was very wrong to give them laws and a code, judges, advocates, and police officers.* What constitutes the excellence of this government is, that the bees have none of these, and that they don't want them, because every one has its part to play, and never dreams of playing another; because workers never think of becoming drones, and drones never intrigue to be above queens." * Pliny says, that in cases of rebellion or disobedience, they are punished in various ways, and even with death in certain circumstances. WRITTEN FOR THE LITTLE PILGRIM. EVENING. BY FANNIE HERBERT. See! the shadows now are stealing Mournfully the hour of rest. O'er the fields the mist is creeping, Through the gray sky tranquilly; Oh! how sweet at day's declining, Tis to rest from earth-born care; Wishing that our home were there. WRITTEN FOR THE LITTLE PILGRIM. DAYS OF TERROR IN NEW ENGLAND. FLIGHT TO The fort-legend of beers' battle. BY JULIA GILL. I wonder if you children, living safely in your pleasant, beautiful homes, with books and toys enough, each one of you, to fill almost a shop; going to school in nice warm schoolrooms, with plenty of maps, and globes, and books-playing in the streets and woods, with nothing to fear-I wonder if you can at all realize the feelings of the boys and girls who lived in New England a little more than a hundred years ago. I suppose not. And yet they were very much such boys and girls as you are though to be sure not so delicately reared. They were sometimes hungry and cold, but they had learned to endure, and hunger and cold were nothing to the terrible fear of Indians. They could not go to bed at night and be sure they should not be awakened by the warwhoop. A boy could not go to drive the cows into the pasture, and be sure that he should not be seized by an Indian lurking behind a tree, and While the people worshiped be carried away. on the Sabbath, each man having brought his gun, one was set to keep watch without. We are going farther and farther from those times, and you probably know no one who remembers any thing about them; but when I was a child, I had a grandmother who could just remember those terrible days. She lived in Northfield, a town in the western part of Massachusetts, lying on the Connecticut river. Northfield was a much larger township then than now. The whole of the little town of Gill, with its smooth, green hills, and pretty meadows nestling away in a curve of the river, and perhaps a part of Greenfield, were then comprised in it. There were forts at intervals of a few miles along the river, and to these, on the least alarm, the women and children were carried, while the men cultivated the ground by day with their guns near them, and at night followed their families to the Fort. A smoke rising from the unbroken woods on the mountain, the report of a gun, even the shaking of an autumn-colored leaf, mistaken by some bird-nesting boy for the red feather of a savage, would be sufficient to excite the fear that the Indians had come down upon the settlements, and were hiding away by day to come out at night, burning their dwellings, and carrying them all away captive. The last alarm of this kind occured one hundred and four years ago. My grandmother was only two years old, and she would probably not have remembered an ordinary incident. Her father was out of town, and her uncle came in haste to their house one morning, and told her mother there were signs of Indians in the vicinity, and she must leave immediately. So she gave the cheese she was making to the pigs, and locked the house, writing “ Indians” in large letters with chalk on the door, to meet the eye of the father. Then she and her brother took the children with them on horseback and went over the river, and through the woods, as silently as possible. The children were delighted with their ride: they were full of glee, and wanted to talk and laugh continually. But their mother hushed them. What a nervous, anxious ride that must have been to her an Indian might step out from behind a tree at any moment, and seize her horse by its bridle. But they reached the Fort or "garrisonhouse," as it was then called, in safety, and resided there for some time with other families. SPLENDOR NOT HAPPINESS.-Gilded roofs do not The alarm however was a false one, and the In keep out sleepless nights. dians never afterwards came into that vicinity. LEGEND OF BEERS' BATTLE. I have told you of the flight to the Fort in Northfield. In this same place, a long time before, (in the year 1675,) occurred the dreadful fight known ever since as Beers' Battle. It was in that part of Northfield now called "The Farms" a long stretch of land running along the base of Northfield Mountain-on a September evening. The garrison-house, which was two miles higher to the north, was filled with men, women and children, in a state of terrible anxiety and dread An immense body of Indians had come suddenly into the region, filling the woods, and killing nine or ten persons; and the other inhabitants of the settlement had fled to the garrison-house, upon which they were every moment fearing an attack; but they were expecting also a body of men to come that evening to their defence, bringing them provisions. and he was recognized by the soldier who first entered, as the hero of the last shot. His story was this: Unharmed by the bullets that flew around him, he ran, a troop of savages following closely. Suddenly the ground seemed to give way under his feet, and he found himself lying, entirely covered with leaves, at the bottom of a pit. His pursuers seemed greatly disconcerted by his dis appearance, and he heard them in their low, peculiar tones, ascribing it to the agency of "Chepian," their evil spirit. They moved away, and, after a few minutes of silence, he crawled upwards, and listened. Hearing nothing, he ventured quite out, and leaving his gun on account of its weight, ran to the garrison-house. The garrison was not attacked, as they expected, during the night, bnt other men who had escaped the carnage came to them. The records of the time tell us there were sixteen who escaped, though the old legend mentioned but two. I cannot help thinking what a time of consultation and bustle the good housewives there must have had, in the low state of their provisioncloset, to prepare a supper for these tired and excited soldiers; for you may depend, notwithstanding all the horrors of the evening, they were Let us look for a moment within this garrisonhouse. It is dimly lighted, and children lie on the floor, and in their mothers' arms, asleep. Old gray-headed men are there, and roguish boys that now begin to be thoroughly sober with fear; gentle girls, that lean their heads on their hands, and pray silently, and men of war, that wait and listen. Leaning in the corners of the room, and hung on all sides of it, are fire arms, guns of enor-ready enough to eat. mous size, too heavy for the usual method of discharge, and constructed with a supporter, which is let down at the time of firing. They are capable of receiving a very great charge, and were invented to meet the peculiar warfare of the Indians. Suddenly, the report of guns was heard in the distance, and then arose the horrible war-whoop coming up from the forest, as though every nook in it were the lurking place of a fiend. The men they were expecting had been intercepted by the savages! As they listened in the wildest terror, praying with strong crying unto God, who "pitieth His children," gradually the firing seemed to slacken, then only an occasional gun was heard: at length, the noise of battle ceased altogether; when suddenly there was a single report, which was (said the old men who used to tell the story) "as loud as a field piece." As quick as thought, it was answered by a countless number of guns. Immediately after there was a shout in the meadow below the garrison-house, a call for admittance. Some persons went out and returned with a soldier, around whom the breathless company gathered. He was of the thirty-six men under the command of Captain Beers which had been surprised by the Indians, and of the horrors of the fight he only was escaped to tell" The men of his company were obliged in the darkness to shoot at random, while the Indians, sheltered behind the trees, aimed at the flash of their guns with certain and deadly effect. Captain Beers fought bravely, but he was slain; and then, the men flying in every direction, were swept away like mown grass, until he found himself as he supposed, the only survivor. He started to run for the garrison-house, and came upon another man, who was in the act of reloading his heavy gun. He said to him, "You had better run, we are the only men alive." The next morning, the soldiers went down for the gun. It was not to be found, and the dead leaves were all removed out of the pit. This spot has ever since borne the name of "Soldier's Hole." Two days after, Major Treat came up from Hadley, and carried the garrison back with him. Northfield was then the settlement highest north on the Connecticut river. The Indians called it Squakeag. Above it and on each side of it, was the dense, tangled forest, through which was an obscure road to Deerfield and Hadley. Now, among the beautiful towns in Massachusetts along the Connecticut river, there is scarcely one more lovely than Northfield; with its long, rural street, and picture-like meadows. Where the deer once led her spotted fawn The mill-wheel dashes the mountain stream As the golden light of the autumn bright WRITTEN FOR THE LITTLE PILGRIM. A USEFUL THING. A short method of ascertaining the day of the month from the day of the week, and the day of the week from the day of the month. Affix the first seven letters of the alphabet to "I'll give them one more shot first," was the the seven days of the week, beginning always reply, and pouring an enormous quantity of with A, on the first day of January, no matter powder and balls into his gun, fired it. It what day of the week that may be, and counting caused a report like a cannon. A multitude of regularly on through all the months of the year. guns pointed at the flash gave earnest answer. A 1st, B 2d, C 3d, D 4th, E 5th, F 6th, G 7thNo doubt the rash soldier had fallen. He had A-b c d e f g. A-and so on. You will find scarcely done his story when a shout was heard that A being always the first of January, D again from the meadow. How it thrilled through comes at the first of February, D the first of every bosom ! March-G 1st April-B May, E June, G July, Another had escaped! They sent out for him, C August, F September, A October, D Novem ber, and F December. And in order to keep these letters in the memory, commit the following distich : At Dover Dwells George Brown Esquire, Good Christopher Finch, And David Frier. The year 1856 came in on Tuesday. A, the first of January then was Tuesday-B Wednesday, C Thursday, D Friday, E Saturday, F Sunday, G Monday, A Tuesday-and so on through the month of January and February, till the extra day this year, 29th, intercepts the regular succession of letters; and therefore, to remedy this, D, Friday, is repeated on Saturday, which brings E on Sunday. Thus this year, being leap year, has two Sunday letters, F and E. E is now the Sunday letter throughout the year. Remembering this, and wishing to find what day of the week the tenth of May will fall on, you count to the fifth month. At Dover Dwells George Brown. B then is the first of May. E being then Sunday letter, D was Saturday, C Friday, B Thursday. The first of May was therefore Thursday. Thursday and Thursday 8, Friday 9, Saturday 10. The 2d Saturday will be the 10th of May. If I wish to find what day of the week the 15th of June falls on, I count-in the same way-At Dover Dwells George Brown Esquire June. E, Sunday, is therefore the first of June. Sunday and Sunday 8; and Sunday 15. Therefore the 3d Sunday in June is the 15th. If I wish to find what day of the month the third Thursday of August will be. August is the eighth month-it is therefore C, E being Sunday, D Saturday, C Friday, the 1st of August. Friday and Friday 8, and Friday 15, and Friday 22-B, Thursday, 21 must be the second Thursday, and Thursday the 30th must be the third Thursday in August, and so on through the year. WRITTEN FOR THE LITTLE PILGRIM. INFANCY. BY C. C. C. I. Tender form of gentle clay, II. Lo! how every sense expands! E'er shall thrill thee-cherub-boy- III. Why the change? how mildly meekHow subdued the pallid cheekAnd the eye is bright no more, And the infant shout is o'er; Shadows cluster o'er that brow, Bathed in floods of light but nowRacking pain and fever wild, Are thy portion, sinless child! IV. Death is on thee! Light is there 'Mid thy locks of clustering hair! And thy little hands are prest On a chill and pulseless breast; And the deep-lashed eyelids close In a calm and cold repose; Weep not 'tis a sunbeam fled To the glory overhead! BURNSIDE, EASTON, MD. flowers; will not mamma love to see them in her ristal seh pretty vases? Oh! I will take them to her." Hittle pilgrim. PHILADELPHIA, OCTOBER, 1856. SPECIMEN COPIES sent free of charge to all who request them. to go. "Yes, my darling, take them to mamma, they are beautiful indeed; but first let me look at them for awhile," said his father. "Hugh, come here Hugh; you are old enough to learn a lesson from these lovely lilies. See how pure, how delicate their texture! how wonderfully beautiful! See, too, the bright golden stamens, in the midst of these petals of exquisite purity!" "And now tell me, papa," said Hugh, "what lesson you can draw from these pretty white lilies? I am sure I have not sufficient wisdom to perceive in them any thing but beauty and sweetness." "Think again, my son," said Mr. Grenville; you say you can perceive beauty and sweetness; and do not these delightful qualities suggest to you some religious thought?" Please be careful always to write the names of the town, county and state, to which you wish papers" The postage on The Little Pilgrim should be prepaid, by the quarter or year, at the post office of the town in which the subscriber resides. If this is done, it will be only six cents a year. To any part of the state of Pennsylvania, the postage on The Little Pilgrim is three cents Oh yes! papa," said Hugh, "I now remember you have often told me that every good and a year if prepaid, and to any part of Philadelphia county perfect gift was from God; and that these pretty it goes postage free. flowers were made to gladden the hearts of His It is not necessary that all the members of a club children." should live in the same town. SEE EIGHTH PAGE FOR TERMS, &c. FULL SETS OF VOLUMES 1ST AND 2D CAN "Right, my son," was his father's answer; and yet another and more special lesson may be learned from this flower-the white meadow lily. See these delicate petals, so easily marred by a careless or rude hand! So it is, my son, with the innocent heart of a child: a wicked companion, All subscriptions must begin with the first or an unfaithful guide, may mar and deform that number of the volume. STILL BE SUPPLIED. WRITTEN FOR THE LITTLE PILGRIM. innocency in which its Maker formed it; and when A WREATH FROM THE WOODS OF CAROLINA. nothing could restore the perfection of the injured A SERIES OF STORIES FOR CHILDREN. BY KATE STIRLING. No. 6.-THE TRIUMPH OF TRUTH. Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, but they that deal truly are his delight.-Prov. xii. 22. Hugh Grenville was a boy, worthy to be imitated by my little readers. From his infancy he was remarkable for truth and obedience to his parents-two most estimable traits, the very best foundation for "that noblest work of God, an honest man." Hugh was about ten years old, when, on a calm summer evening, his father took him, and his almost baby-brother, to walk on the borders of a creek that ran through a beautiful wood, near his dwelling. There was a lovely green meadow near the creek, too, bespangled with delicate white lilies, and many other flowers, which attracted a multitude of butterflies, whose aërial motions gave life and cheerfulness to the scene. Mr. Grenville was a wise as well as a good man, and seldom suffered an occasion to pass unimproved, for the benefit of his children's minds and hearts. After leading them along the creek, to admire its sparkling waters, as they rippled among the tufts of grass and over the projecting roots of the overhanging trees; to watch the little silver perch as they timidly stole along, in the shallow water, to catch the tiny minnows that sported there in multitudes; or listened to the tapping of the crimson-tufted woodpecker, or the carols of the mocking bird, or the shrill cry of the kingfisher, as it darted upon the little hunter perch, that had just devoured a hapless minnow ;he at length seated himself upon a mossy bank, beneath the trees, while his little boys amused themselves chasing butterflies and gathering flowers. lily but the hand of God." "And now, father," said Hugh, "tell me what these golden stamens in the centre of the lily teach." But Hugh, the contemplative Hugh, still looked intently at the Passion-Flower, as if deeply weighing its mournful significance. "I hope I shall never forget what you and these beautiful flowers have taught me this day, dear father," at length he said. "I hope the White Lily will always remind me of the holy beauty of purity, innocence and truth; and 1 sball always look on the Passion-Flower with reverence, as nature's memorial of the Redeemer's sufferings and death." By this time Eddie had filled his apron with flowers for his dear mamma, and Mr. Grenville, still conversing with Hugh, led the children home. On the following morning Hugh was at school his teacher for correct deportment and industry. punctually, and there gained the approbation of This excited the jealousy of his classmates, I am sorry to say, and they determined by some means or other to bring disgrace upon him. When school was over, these wicked boys proposed to Hugh to take a walk with them, before going home. This he was permitted to do by his kind parents, whose confidence in him was unbounded. So Hugh accompanied his classmates on their walk, and they soon arrived at the little stream in which the boys were accustomed to bathe, and sometimes angle for silver perch. "Look here, boys!" shouted Harry Reckless, "look here! a boat! a boat! Let us take it, and 50 over the creek and get plums and berries; and besides, there are birds' nests in abundance in yonder wood. Let us go, boys." "But," suggested Hugh Grenville, "the boat is locked fast to this post, and we cannot take it." Oh, we will soon manage that matter," said Harry, and with this he picked up a great stone "The golden stamens," said Mr. Grenville, "Hold!" said Hugh, "you are going to break "convey to the thoughtful mind a lesson of wis-old Joe's lock; and you know, boys, he is a poor dom also. See how these pure and delicate petals man, and a new lock will cost him a day's fishing; surround, and are exalted above the golden sta- and besides, it is wrong to take his boat without mens! So are purity of heart, innocency of life, and holy truth, exalted above the treasures of this world." At this moment little Eddie came flying up to his father, and with childish haste thrust into his hand a purple flower, known as the emblem of the Crucifixion. leave." "Who cares for leave?" shouted Harry-and "Who cares for leave ?" responded all the boys save Hugh. And so, with a few strokes of the great stone the lock gave way, and the boat was free. All the boys were soon in the boat except Hugh, who stood hesitating on the bank. 66 Come along, Hugh!" shouted the boys. "Don't stand there, grieving over old Joe's lock; you did not break it, and we can bear the blame; so come along." "Yes, come along!" shouted Harry Reckless, "or we shall call you coward; or perhaps you are mean enough to tell upon us." "Ah, my children, "said Mr. Grenville, with emotion, "here is the grandest, the most awful lesson, of all that is taught by the flowers of the field! This is the Passion-Flower. See here these pale green leaves, that form the outer circle around the flower-these we will suppose the timid disciples of our Lord! Then here are the three cruel nails which pierced his blessed hands "Yes!" shouted another, "he means to be a and feet, and in their centre is the ponderous ham-tell-tale. Well, go along, tell-tale, we will have mer which dealt the agonizing blows-and under- our fun, blame or no blame, tell-tale or no tellneath these are the five mortal wounds endured by the great Redeemer! See the glory surrounding the whole, and the crown of thorns! See the crimson spots sprinkled on the leaves, memorials of his blood-shedding! And here at the base of the stem is attached a tendril, representing the cruel cord with which the blessed shoulders of the Redeemer were lashed, and his beneficent hands confined-those hands, so untiringly active in doing good to sinful, ungrateful man!" Even little Eddie, struck by the unusual solemnity of his father's countenance, paused at his knee, and listened with awe-struck expression to the mournful lesson of the Passion-Flower. Tears glistened in his beautiful eyes for awhile, and then he darted off again, in chase of the butterflies, that led him a merry dance among the myriad flowers that brightened and perfumed the mea Little Eddie came bounding up to his father, almost out of breath from running, with innocent joy sparkling in his bright blue eyes. "Look! papa, look here," cried he, "at these beautiful dows. tale." But the brave and honest Hugh scarcely heard their taunts, so earnestly was he arguing with himself on the propriety or impropriety of accom panying the boys. At last he concluded to go, with the hope that he might induce them to purchase a new lock for the poor old fisherman, and take his boat back safely to its mooring, instead of letting it drift away and be lost to its owner. Hugh stepped into the boat, and then, amid shouts of triumph and merry peals of laughter, the party were soon in the woods on the opposite shore, enjoying a pleasant ramble in the refreshing shade, amid the perfume of innumerable flow. ers, and the melody of birds. During the ramble, Hugh several times surprised the boys holding a consultation, which on his appearance ceased, and mysterious glances passed among them. Still the innocent boy suspected no evil to himself, but continued to converse with frankness and good, than now existed against him. At Mr. Grenville's humor. On their return, just as they approached the landing, the conspiring boys began shaking and rocking the boat from side to side, till at last it was upset, and all thrown into the water. After they had scrambled out, Harry Reckless exclaimed, "It was you, Hugh, that upset the boat, while we were off our guard. Now you will get a good whipping, and that is a consolation." "I?" said Hugh, with astonishment; "why, Harry, I did not move of myself while I was in the boat. Are you not ashamed?" "That makes no difference, Mr. Demure; we all intend to say you did it, on purpose to make us sick. We are too many for you this time. We shall be believed, and you will have the rod upon your fool's back. Ha! ha! ha!" suggestion, these gentlemen joined with him in purchasing a new lock for the poor fisherman, and rewarding him for the use of his boat, to the great delight of Hugh, and the confusion of his enemies. After this, you may be sure Hugh went on no more pleasure excursions with his classmates; but one evening, as he was passing by a neighboring orchard, not dreaming of evil, suddenly his wicked classmates came bounding over the fence with their hats full of apples and peaches; then hastily throwing a quantity of them at Hugh's feet, and at the same time shouting "thief" as loud as they could, made off with speed behind a high fence. The farmer came out with his great bull-dog, and seeing Hugh in the midst of piles of peaches and apples, called to him, and pointing to the "So be it, boys," said Hugh, "yet I shall tell great dog forbad him to move at his peril. So the truth." "That will do you no good, as we are five against one. We shall be believed. There is no fear boys," said Harry. "But what you say will be a falsehood," returned Hugh. Hugh waited till the farmer and his dog came up. "Dear, dear me !" said the dismayed farmer, "is this you? Hugh Grenville; the son of a good and honorable man, whom but yesterday I heard declare that his son Hugh had never told a lie in his life, or done a dishonest act. Oh! how sorry I am for your poor father. What a deal of trouble is in store for him. Come, pick up your apples and peaches and follow me. I must undeceive your father before it is too late to reform so wicked a boy.” "Who cares for that?" shouted this wicked boy; and "Who cares for that?" echoed all the rest," so you yet the whipping and we escape it." "Do not be so sure of that," said Hugh, calmly, "for I have never told an untruth in my life, and my father will never believe you till he himself detects me in a lie-and a lie I hope never to tell while I live. And how about the broken lock?" "Ah, well you may weep, child," said the asked Hugh, addressing Harry. farmer, "to grieve so good a father. Pity you "Of course you broke it," said the false and cannot grieve for your deceitful heart. But come daring boy. along, come along." Still calmly Hugh looked this bad boy in the face, and said, "Harry, if I were you I should fear the thunders of heaven would strike me dead! Hugh saw the full difficulty of his situation, and burst into tears. "Stop one moment, sir," cried Hugh," and hear me." "No, no, not a moment; not a word will I hear-these are my witnesses," pointing to the fruit on the ground "Come, fill your hat and follow me." And as to the punishment you threaten me for your offences, I would much rather bear it for truth than for falsehood. I shall tell the truth, and be far happier with my whipping, than you will be with your guilt-though the whipping I shall never feel, if my father is to give it to me. He is too just, and knows me too well." "Then we will whip you ourselves," said Harry by five boys, who came over your fence just as Reckless, "will we not, boys ?" "Yes! yes!" shouted all, save one. This was Willie Kindheart, who, though accidentally thrown among bad companions, was really better disposed than they. "I should be sorry boys," said Willie, "to see Hugh beaten for nothing. I cannot join you any longer. I am ashamed of what I have done." On the following morning Mr. Grenville was waited on by the fathers of these wicked boys, with a demand that Hugh should be punished for upseting his playmates in the creek, and endangering their lives. "My dear sirs," answered Mr. Grenville, "immediately on Hugh's return home, yesterday evening, he came and told me the whole affair; and I know his account is true, for this one reason-he has never told me an untruth in his life; and if you can all declare the same of your boys, then I will take the pains to inquire into the guilt or innocence of my son. If you cannot conscientiously place them on the same footing as Hugh, in this respect, I must of course decline whipping him, or even making further inquiry into the matter." The fathers of the dishonest boys, one after another, were compelled to own that their sons had not always adhered to strict truth, and after hearing Mr. Grenville's testimony to his son's undeviating truth, unanimously agreed that such a boy ought not to be condemned for the first alleged offence without more certain evidence "That I cannot do, sir," said Hugh," as I have never touched this fruit in my life, and if I were to do so now, it would seem indeed as if I had been the thief, when in truth it was thrown at me you heard them shout thief,' and they then quickly ran behind yonder fence." "But you see," returned the farmer, "I have no proof of this, and therefore shall consider you the thief, as I have certainly found you with my apples and peaches." Hugh calmly raised his honest countenance to the face of the farmer, and said, "But, sir, you must admit you heard the cry of thief?" " "Yes," said the farmer, "I do." "Then sir, how can you believe it, since you do not see the person who cried thief-he is not here?" True, boy," said the farmer, "and you are a shrewd fellow, with an honest face, or you are a great deceiver. But come along, at any rate, we will hear what your father will say." 66 Hugh remained perfectly silent, while the farmer accused him to his father of theft. But his face had the same calm, honest expression as when he left his home at noon. Mr. Grenville's confidence was still unshaken in Hugh, and concluded that the same wicked boys had laid another plot to destroy his good name. "Well sir," said Mr. Grenville, "I have heard all you have to allege against my son, and my answer is, that nothing can shake my confidence in a child that was never known to depart from the truth, or otherwise to deceive his father, or any one else in his family. You must convince me that he was over your fence, or that he was seen to receive the fruit voluntarily from some one coming from over the fence, truly, before I can consent to punish him. With his religious training, and his correct, conscientious habits, sir, the thing is impossible !” The farmer departed, determining to seek further into the matter, and Hugh gave his father a faithful account of the plot against his character. That very night, after playing this heartless trick upon Hugh Grenville, Harry Reckless was taken extremely ill, from the quantity of unripe fruit he had eaten. His life was almost despaired of. On the following morning, while he continued in great danger, Willie Kindheart came and begged to see him. Willie had attended a Sunday-school, and had learned somewhat of the graces and virtues of our holy religion, though these salutary lessons had not been confirmed or enforced at home-still the good seed had taken sufficient root to make him repent having joined a plot to injure the innocent, as well as to desire the salvation of his wicked companion Harry. This little boy approached the bed of his classmate with tears in his eyes. "Oh! Harry," said he, "I am so sorry for you. What has made you so ill ?" "Oh! Willie," he replied, "I ate too many apples and peaches yesterday afternoon. I wish I had not eaten them. Oh! I shall die, and Willie, I am so much afraid to die." Just at this moment the boys were left alone, and Willie said to Harry, "And now you are sorry for what you have done to Hugh Grenville, are you not, Harry? I am sure I am. And if you are afraid to die, you will be much less afraid if you will own your faults and do justice to Hugh, who is a good boy and never did us harm." Poor Harry was extremely ill and in terror at the near view of death, in his wickedness, yet his pride and obstinacy were sadly in his way. "Oh, I cannot, Willie!" he cried, "it will so distress my father and mother to know of my guilt. Will I be lost, Willie, when I am sorry for injuring Hugh ?— will not that be enough without confessing?" "No Harry," said Willie, "not if the Bible is true, for it teaches that you must own your faults to your brother, as well as to God. Own them, Harry; be just to Hugh, and then you may hope that the good Saviour will pardon your sins, and take you into Heaven if you die." Willie had time to say no more, as Harry's attendants returned to the sick room, and so, shaking hands with his unhappy companion, little Willie Kindheart bade him good-bye. Harry became very silent after this, though he was extremely restless, and it was very evident that his mind was severely exercised-most especially to the watchful and anxious eye of his mother, who earnestly besought him to tell her what it was that distressed him. Harry burst into tears, and burying his face in his mother's bosom told her all. His mother was pained exceedingly, and shed a flood of tears over the depravity of her child, though to tell the truth she had herself to blame, for neglecting his moral and religious training. Soon after this, Harry's father came in and shared the grief of his wife and child, bitterly lamenting their neglect of their own, and their children's highest interest. At Harry's request, Mr. Grenville and Hugh were sent for, and ample justice done to the innocent victim of falsehood and wrong. Harry Reckless was spared to prove the sincerity of his repentance, having learned the value of truth, and Christian love, by the benign influence of Christian example, in the forgiving and honest Hugh, and the pious efforts of Willie Kindheart. See what children can do for the Triumph of Truth! |