  OON the Sunday morning following Christmas, Mrs. Rush asked her little scholars if they all had their money ready for the library. Each one answered "Yes," and she told them she would allow them to choose what books they would send; and that on the next day she would take them all down town to a large store, where they would find a great number of pretty and suitable children's books. Accordingly, on Monday morning, she drove up to Mr. Bradford's door at the appointed hour. Maggie and Bessie, ready for the ride, were watching for her, and did not keep her a moment waiting. Then they stopped at Mr. Howard's door to take up Gracie, "Please don't say 'the books,'" said Maggie. "And why not?" asked Mrs. Rush. "Are you not going to buy books?" "Yes'm," said Maggie; "but then it is a great deal more satisfaction to say 'library.'" "Oh! that is it," said Mrs. Rush, laughing. "Well, hereafter, I shall be careful to say your 'library.'" "Not ours; the log-cabin children's library," said Gracie. "Very well," said Mrs. Rush. "You will have me all right by and by. I see I must be "Don't you like to be coryected, Mrs. Yush?" asked Bessie. "Certainly; when I am wrong, I always wish to be put right; and I shall speak of your log-cabin library in any way you please; for you have surely earned the right to say how it shall be." "Tom says Maggie and Bessie deserve more credit than Gracie and I," said Lily, "because they really earned the money, and Gracie and I had it without taking any trouble about it." "But you have denied yourselves in order to give it," said Mrs. Rush, "and I think you ought not to be without your share of credit." "What does 'credit' mean?" asked Bessie. "Oh!" said Maggie, before any one else could speak, "it means to think yourself very great, and to have a fuss made about you. I "I know Tom did not mean that," said Lily. "He thinks you're very nice." "And I think Maggie makes a mistake, and does not quite understand the meaning of the word 'credit,'" said Mrs. Rush. "To give a person credit for any action, dear Maggie, is only to give him the praise that is due to him. There is no need to think that people are making a fuss about you because they do this." "I can't help it, Mrs. Rush," said Maggie. "I always do feel great when people praise me, and nurse says it is not good for me." "What do you mean by feeling great?" asked Mrs. Rush. "Do you mean you feel vain and self-glorious?" "No," said Maggie, "not quite that, but I feel pleased, and as if I liked it; and I know "I have not a doubt of it, my dear little girl," said Mrs. Rush, "and I do not think you could have been so earnest and persevering if you had not had a better motive than the desire for praise. I believe you have all done it from a sincere wish to help others who are not as well off as yourselves; and it is not wrong to like praise, Maggie, if we do not allow it to make us vain, or to cause us to cease from well-doing. We all enjoy it, old and young; and if it is sincere, and we feel that we deserve it, it is quite right to be pleased with the approval of our friends." "But Maggie is a great deal nicer than she thinks herself," said Bessie. "I don't think Mrs. Rush smiled at the affectionate little sister, who never missed a chance of saying a kind or loving word for Maggie. So they chatted away until they reached the bookstore, where Mrs. Rush went in with the whole of her small flock. This was a very large store, and from the floor to the ceiling the walls were covered with shelves, on which lay piles on piles of books. The gentleman whom Mrs. Rush wished to see was engaged, and she sat down to wait until he should be at liberty to attend to her; while the children gathered about her, noticing all around them, and prattling away as fast as their tongues could go. "Did you ever see such lots and lots of books?" said Gracie. "I suppose the gentleman who owns this "Why, he couldn't be," said Maggie; "only the people that lived in the Bible were so very old. I wish I had lived then, it's such fun to be alive." "If you had lived then, you would not be alive now," said Mrs. Rush, with a smile; "and no one ever lived to be a million years old. The world has not been created so long, and the oldest man, Methuselah, was only nine hundred and sixty-nine when he died. But what made you think Mr. —— must have lived a million years, Lily?" "Because he has written such lots of books," said Lily; "just see how many!" "But you do not think Mr. —— has himself written all these books?" "Why, yes'm," said Lily. "It would indeed take a long life-time to "Who did it, then?" asked Lily. "A great many different persons. People write books and bring them to Mr. ——, and he publishes them; that is, he has them printed and bound, and then sells them." "I am glad it took a great many people to do it," said Maggie, "because if they take the trouble to write books for children, I suppose it's because they like us; and it is pleasant to have a great many people to love you." "I wonder why 'most everybody loves children," said Gracie. "If you thought about Christmas, you'd know that," said Bessie. "It's 'cause Jesus was once a little child; and besides, when he was a man, he loved children his own self." Just then the gentleman for whom Mrs. He shook hands with them all, and then, taking paper and pencil, told them to tell him in turn what they would have. Bessie, being the youngest, had the first choice, and she named the books she liked best. The others did the same, but when the list was made out, Mr. —— said ten dollars would purchase several more, and bringing some volumes which had just been published, said he could recommend those for their purpose. The children were quite ready to take them upon his word, and when the whole ten dollars' worth was laid out, looked at the pile with great satisfaction. Mr. —— offered to send the books wherever they might choose "Dear log-cabin children, whose names we don't know, but we like you all the same, please to take this library. Four of us send it to you,—Maggie and Bessie and Gracie and Lily; and I am Maggie, and the others The colonel wrote it all down just as Maggie The books were covered and put up in a neat box which Mr. Bradford provided, and then given into Miss Winslow's care. She was very much pleased, and told the little girls she should not fail to tell the Western children all about their kind young friends in the East. Some weeks after she went away, there came a letter from her, directed, "To my dear little scholars." It had come in another to Mrs. Rush, and arrived on Saturday night; so when they came to her room on Sunday morning, they found this pleasure awaiting them. Mrs. Rush read it "My Dear Little Girls,— "After a long and tedious journey, we arrived at this place. We lost several articles of our baggage by the way, but I am glad to tell you that your precious library was not among them. That came quite safely, and it would do good to your generous young hearts to see what delight these poor children take in the books; and not only the children, but the grown people, also, are very anxious to have them. "We are not living in a large city or village, but in a small settlement of a dozen or so of houses, and very different the houses are from those you are accustomed to. They are all log-cabins, our own as well as the rest; but we manage to make ourselves pretty comfortable and quite contented. Then we have so much to do that there is no time "On Sunday the people come from other settlements, miles and miles away, to hear Mr. Long preach; and when our simple services are over, the children beg for the books you have sent for their use. Some of them are well thumbed already, but, on the whole, they take good care of them, partly for their own sakes, partly for that of their kind little friends so far away. "On week-days, Mr. Long rides from place to place to teach and talk to the people. When I can borrow a pony or mule, I go with him, and the cry is always for 'books, books.' I take two or three from the library with me, and leave them here and there. They pass from house to house, till all who wish have read them, then they are returned to me, and others asked for. "There is an old colored woman who lives in one of the "So, my little darlings all, you see what joy your present The End Transcriber's Notes |
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