Stories Of Integrity

  FLORENCE'S MISTAKE. 

IT was Sabbath morning, and she was standing before the glass, tying the ends of her lovely new sash; and Carrie leaned on her elbows, and watched her for a minute, and wished that she was a little more like Florence. She was pretty and bright and everybody admired her. This very morning she was going to do something so nice. In the next square was a new family, just moved in; Florence had already become acquainted with Weston, the fifteen-year-old son, and invited him to attend Sabbath-school, and he had laughed, and declared that he didn't go to Sabbath-school very often; but at last had agreed to call, and be shown the way to church by Florence "I don't believe they are people who go to church much," Florence had said, as she drew on her long mite with a pleased air; but I shouldn’t be surprised if I could get him into the habit of going! 

And then Carrie had sighed, and wished that she could do something; here she had to stay poked in the house this beautiful day, because she had a sore throat. Just then the doorbell rang, and Master Weston's voice was heard in the hall. Then was Florence in a flutter." Dear me! There he is, and it is time we were off. Where is my handkerchief Carrie, haven't you seen my handkerchief? You certainly must have taken it; I laid it right here.

I do wish you would let my things alone! Mamma, have you seen my 'Quarterly' I thought it was on the table; where can it be? Oh dear me, mamma, I should, think you might help me find it. I hate to be late. Oh, never mind my money! I can take it next time. Mamma, please don't keep me waiting to get it; I shan't go at all, if I have to wait much longer. Carrie Marshall, I know you tucked my handkerchief somewhere. Mamma, won't you please let me go this minute?  You seem to just want to make me late. I don't care if my hair is too low down; it is just the way all the girls wear it. I wouldn't have it flying around my face in the wild way that Carrie does, for anything. 

Carrie, hand me that book, quick! I shall go distracted.  

Then I rejoice to tell you that she went out of the room, tripped down the stairs, and was off. 

Her invalid mother drew a relieved sigh. "I wish Florence were not such an excitable girl," she said, as she moved about picking up many things that the young miss in her hurry had sent flying hither and thither. "If she were a little more like you, dear, in some things, I should be glad."  In the meantime Florence was tripping along beside her new friend, as bright as the morning itself.   She told him about their nice Sabbath-school, what a pleasant superintendent they had, and what a "perfectly splendid" teacher. She told him about the young people's prayer meeting, and asked him to attend; and with sweetness and skill she brought her question around until she asked him if he were a Christian. And she said, earnestly, "I am so sorry," when he told her, "no!" Then she said a few sweet, earnest words that ought to have done him good, and she wondered in her heart why he was simply polite in return, showing not the slightest interest in the subject.  If she could have looked into his heart, she would have found just this: "I wonder what this dainty little miss in her pretty hat and her frizzes would say if she knew I waited for her in the hall while she left her door open and talked to her mother and 'Carrie' –who-- ever she is. The talk I heard then and the talk I am hearing now don't match!  How am I to know, which, she means?" 

Poor Florence! Her thoughtless, disrespectful words at home that morning had spoiled the influence of her work abroad! And the worst of it was she was so used to being careless in this matter, that she didn't suspect it.

The Pansy

ONLY a word—

but the work that it wrought 

Could never by tongue or pen be taught; 

For it ran through a life like a thread of gold, 

And the life bore fruit a hundred-fold.