In the spring, Frankie commenced going to school. Miss Campbell, his Sabbath School teacher, received a dozen little boys and girls at her own house. They were all nearly of an age and old playmates, so a merry little company they made—full of fun and mischief; but never had school a gentler, lovelier mistress than Miss Campbell, or Miss Ruth, as she wished the children to call her. The first day of school was as delightful as April sunshine could make it, and Frankie’s heart seemed full of sunshine; at least it shone out of his bright eyes, as he kissed his mother, and bidding Aleck good-bye, he ran down The tender words brought tears to his eyes, and, resting his head wearily on his hand, he said, “I ken it is a’ for the best, I hae a guid hame. You are like my ain mither. The Laird is guid, but I am sae tired.” “You will not feel so tired when you can be out in the air more,” replied Mrs. Western, cheerily. “Keep up your courage. You may be a strong, hearty boy yet.” “‘Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive’ the beauties, the glories of heaven,” said Mrs. Western; “but this we know, that our Father is there, and that we shall be free from pain, and sorrow, and sin. It will not be long before we shall know for ourselves all the glories of that home.” Thus they talked of heaven until Aleck forgot all the suffering and weariness of earth. Frankie reached Miss Campbell’s just in time to get his seat before school commenced. Miss Campbell read a brief chapter in the Bible, and offered an earnest prayer to God, that he would help them to do right and perform all their duties faithfully. Then the lessons were assigned, and they all went to Miss Ruth smiled, and looked hopefully at her little charge, as she said, “I don’t expect to escape my share of trouble, Mrs. Keller, but I do not think that much of it will come by these little ones.” The children heard the conversation, and mentally resolved to be very good, in order to disappoint Mrs. Keller and to please Miss Ruth. When school closed they all joined in singing one of their Sunday school hymns—“Let us walk in the Light.” Frankie lingered a little after the others went out, and going to Miss Ruth said, “Won’t you tell me, please, just what it means to walk in the light? Is it to be good?” “No, ma’am,” said Frankie, promptly. “I’d take our lantern, and then I guess it wouldn’t be so very easy.” “Not very easy, perhaps,” Miss Ruth replied, “but if in your lantern you had so bright a light that you could see your path plainly, then you could walk around a fallen trunk, separate the tangled briers, and avoid the dangerous holes. With such a journey before you, would you not be very grateful to a kind friend who would offer you such a lantern, saying, ‘Take this to be a lamp unto “Oh, Miss Ruth,” Frankie said eagerly, “I know what you mean. The light is the Bible, and the pleasant land is heaven. Mamma once told me something like what you have said.” “Then, Frankie,” said Miss Ruth, “remember to ‘walk in the light’ of God’s word.” Bidding his teacher good-night, Frankie went home, his heart full of what he had heard about the “light of God,” and of resolutions to “walk in that light.” When he went in he found Aleck watching for him, anxious to hear about the school. So he told him the events of the day, and the “Yes,” said Aleck, “and then we’ll pray.” “And ‘watch,’” added Mrs. Western. “Watch over your thoughts and feelings, and all the little actions of the day. Trust in God, watch and pray, and He will give you the victory.” |