Belle Powers' Locket

Mabel had a pretty clear idea, and was not pleased, which was not at all strange; but her curiosity was excited respecting the other picture, and she determined to satisfy it before she made any disturbance.

"What is this picture?" she asked, pouting, but taking no farther notice of Belle's question.

In the second sketch a number of square and triangular bodies, with little, round heads, and long, sprawling legs and arms, were grouped together in the wildest confusion at the two ends of the picture, which extended the whole length of the sheet. In the middle was an object supposed to represent a carriage, the like whereof was never contrived by any coach-maker upon the face of the earth; while a horse, in the same condition as the pig before mentioned, – namely, with all his legs broken off, – lay upon the ground; his mate, looking much like a chair turned upside down, standing by, disconsolate. But the chief interest of the picture was intended to lie in the central figure, in which a small child, with very short skirts and very long limbs, was represented as dancing wildly about, with not rivers, – as in the case of the pig, – but cataracts of tears spouting from her eyes. Two circles, one within the other, stood for her head; the inner one, nearly as large as the outer, being her mouth, stretched to its utmost extent. And lest there should be any mistake as to the likeness, below this figure was printed in large, crooked letters, —

MABURL.

"That," said Belle, more sternly than before, "is a picture about another proverb that Maggie made up on purpose to be of use to you. The name of it is, 'All scamper away as fast as they can go from a spoiled child;' at least, that was what she meant. Here is the spoiled child, squealing and hollering; there is a poor horse that broke his leg; and here are all the people in the street running away from her. These four are policemen, and they were going to take her up; but even the policemen would not stand her, and ran away too. Even her mother 'came degusted at her at last, and left her; so she had not a single person left. And she had no one to give her something to eat, and no one to put her to bed; so she had to sleep in the gutter, and be starved, and in the morning she was dead, and all dirty out of the gutter."

"She wasn't either," said Mabel.

"She was too," contradicted Belle.

Mabel made a snatch at the picture, which Belle as quickly drew from her, so that between them it was torn in two; and Mabel at the same moment set up the shriek she always gave when she was displeased.

Mr. Powers and Mrs. Walton, their conversation thus suddenly brought to an end, turned hastily to see what was the matter.

It was a sorry sight that met their eyes. Belle stood looking at her cousin with a face which, to do her justice, was only intended as the expression of outraged and offended virtue; while Mabel, shrieking with passion, was frantically tearing to bits the half of the sheet she had secured.

"What is it, children? What are you quarrelling about now?" asked both the parents at once.

Mabel did not, perhaps could not, answer; but Belle spoke up boldly.

"I'm not quarrelling, papa," she said. "I was just trying to give Mabel a lesson of what might happen to her if she didn't behave herself, and she was mad about it; and she tore my picture, – my nice, pretty proverb-picture that I would have given her if she had been good and improved herself by it. I know Maggie and Bessie would think it very interesting if they saw it, and now I can't show it to them;" and Belle held up the torn sheet with a very aggrieved air. "It was only good intentions, papa; and she went and wouldn't have 'em," she added, feeling herself almost equal to Maggie Bradford as she made this grand speech.

Even Mrs. Walton could not help smiling in the midst of her efforts to quiet the screaming Mabel and lead her from the room.

When they were gone, Mr. Powers took his little daughter on his knee; but Belle was not satisfied to see that he looked very grave. For a moment or two neither spoke, Belle not knowing exactly what to say, although she did wish to excuse herself; while her father seemed to be thinking.

At last he said, —

"My little girl, how long is this to go on?"

"What, papa?" asked Belle, though she had a pretty clear idea what he meant.

"This constant quarrelling between you and your cousin. Your aunt and I are very glad to see one another again; but all our comfort is destroyed because you and Mabel disagree all the time."

Belle looked rather hurt.

"I'm sure, papa," she said, "I have tried to be good to-day, ever since I went to Maggie's and Bessie's; and she was a little good too, but greedy and selfish. And then she was in such a passion when we had to come home, I fought I'd better try to correct her. And I'm sure I fought proverb-pictures was a good way to do it, but they just made her mad. I s'pose I might have known it," she added, with a sigh: "she is so very bad and spoiled that things that do other children good only make her worse. See, papa, if this wasn't a nice lesson for her;" and spreading out the half of the sheet which she held, Belle explained to her papa the portion of her picture which still remained.

Certainly, Mr. Powers did not find the likeness to Mabel very flattering, or think it calculated to put her in a good humor with herself or the little artist. Nevertheless, he smiled a little, which encouraged Belle, and she went on: —

"I know that child must come to a bad end," she said; "and I shall never try again to be friends with her, or to do her good, – no, never, never!"

"Where is the little girl that wanted to be a sunbeam and shine for Jesus, and show others the way to Him?" asked her father.

Belle hung her head.

"But, papa," she said presently, "you see it's no use with her. I b'lieve she's the wickedest girl that ever lived, and I don't believe there's any thing bad she wouldn't do if she had a chance. She took Baby Annie's chair to-day; and when baby didn't know any better, and cried for it, Mabel wouldn't give it to her. I think I'll just make up my mind to leave her be all the rest of her life, and make b'lieve she isn't my cousin. I wish she stayed to Boston or else to Europe."

"For He maketh His sun to rise on the evil and on the good," said Mr. Powers, softly.

Belle gave another long, despairing sigh, and laid her head back against her father's shoulder; but she made no more attempt to excuse herself or to blame her cousin.

"I will not say that you had not some thought of doing good to Mabel," said Mr. Powers; "but you began wrong, Belle. I think you did not have very kind feelings in your heart, and that you looked only at what was naughty and perverse in her; and so your picture was not pleasant, and only made her angry. You and Maggie and Bessie understand and love one another, and so you take it pleasantly and patiently when one among you tries this way of helping another in what is right. But I hardly think that any one of you three, good friends as you are, would have been very much pleased to have had such a picture made of you."

Belle sat thoughtful a moment, and then answered, —

"Well, no, papa, I don't b'lieve I would have liked it, if Maggie or Bessie had made a proverb-picture about me slapping Daphne, or being in a passion, or doing any of those very naughty things I used to do so much. But, papa, don't you think my patience about Mabel must be 'most used up?"

"See here," said Mr. Powers, drawing toward him a large Bible which lay near, and turning over the leaves till he found the words he wanted, – "see here, dear, listen to these words: 'Charity suffereth long and is kind, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things.' I am afraid my little Belle has not that kind of charity towards her cousin."

"Charity, papa?" said Belle: "charity means giving money and things to beggars and poor people, doesn't it?"

"Charity here means love," said Mr. Powers, – "love to God and to man, that love which makes us want to work for Jesus by being gentle and patient with the faults of others; which will not let us be made angry by little things; which is not ready to think harm of our friends and playmates; love which believes and hopes that even those who are very wrong and naughty may be made better, and which teaches us to take the pleasantest way of doing this, not showing others their faults in a manner to pain or anger them, but trying to show them the better way by an example of kindness and gentleness."

"Um – m – m, no, papa," said Belle, thoughtfully, when her father ceased speaking: "I don't think I have much of that kind of love-charity to Mabel, – no, I don't b'lieve I have."

"I fear not," said her papa; "but will you not try for it, my darling?"

"Yes," she answered; "but you couldn't s'pect it would come very quick, papa. You see I don't know Mabel very well yet, and I guess I don't care 'bout knowing her any more than I do now. She's so very, very spoiled, and I b'lieve she'll never be any better."

"'Charity believeth all things, hopeth all things,'" said Mr. Powers.

"Is that in the Bible Proverbs?" asked Belle.

"No, it is not in Proverbs; but I can give you a verse from Proverbs which may help you: 'A soft answer turneth away wrath.' Wrath means anger."

"Oh, yes!" said Belle: "I found that out; because to-day, when Mabel spoke very angry and cross, Bessie answered her very pleasant and nice; and Mabel looked at her just as if she didn't know what to make of her; and then she spoke nicely too, and quite behaved herself. I s'pose Bessie has love-charity for Mabel. Tell me those words again, papa. I'll learn a little bit of 'em every day till I know 'em all, and try to do 'em too."

Her father did as she asked; and then, for it was growing late, sent her away to bed, satisfied that his lesson was taking root, and that Belle was sorry – though she did not say so – that she had offended Mabel by her "proverb-picture."

He would have been still more sure of this, and well pleased too, had he heard his little girl when Daphne was undressing her, and as usual began to talk of Mabel in a very uncomplimentary way.

"Daffy," said Belle, "I guess we'll have some charity for Mabel, not beggar-charity, but love-charity, that 'b'lieveth all things, hopeth all things,' and makes up its mind maybe she will learn better, and be good, after all."

VII.

MABEL'S NEW WHIM

"Please give me my puf-folio, Daphne," were Belle's first words in the morning before she was up.

"Puf-folio" stood for port-folio in Belle's English; and the one in question was greatly prized by her, as were also the contents. It had been given to her by Harry Bradford, who had also presented one to each of his little sisters; and was formed of large sheets of pasteboard, bound and tied together with bright-colored ribbons; Belle's with red, Bessie's with blue, and Maggie's with purple. To be sure, the binding and sewing had all been done by Aunt Annie; but the materials had been furnished from Harry's pocket-money, and the portfolios were regarded as the most princely gifts, and treasured with great care.

Within were "proverb-pictures" of every variety and in great number, also many a scrap of paper, and – treasure beyond price! – whole sheets of fool's-cap for future use.

One of these last Belle drew forth, and sitting up in her bed began to compose another picture. She was busy with it till Daphne took her up; and even while the old woman was dressing her she kept making little rushes at it, putting in a touch here and there till she had it finished to her satisfaction.

Mabel did not come to breakfast with her uncle and cousin that morning, but chose to take it with her mamma in her own room.

So little Belle, when the meal was over, asked her papa if she might go to her cousin.

"No, dear, I think not," said her father. "You and Mabel are better apart."

"Oh, no, papa!" said Belle; "for I am going to have love-charity for Mabel, and ask her to have some for me, 'cause maybe I need a little too. I want to make up with her; and here's a new picture for her that I b'lieve she will like better than that old, naughty one I oughtn't to have made last night. Can't I go and be friends?"

Her father examined the picture, to make sure that it could give no cause for new offence; and, satisfied with her explanation, allowed her to go with it to Mrs. Walton's room.

Belle knocked, and being told to come in, obeyed. Her aunt was on the couch, Mabel beside her playing with a doll, and the scowl and pout with which the latter greeted her cousin were not very encouraging.

But Belle, feeling that she had been wrong herself, was determined to persevere in "making up" with Mabel; and she said, though rather timidly, —

"I made you another proverb-picture, Mabel, and" —

"No, no," said Mrs. Walton before she had time to finish her speech: "we have had trouble enough with your 'proverb-pictures,' Belle: you and Mabel cannot agree, it seems; and you had better each keep to your own rooms."

Belle was very much hurt, although she felt this was partly her own fault; and she turned to go with the tears in her eyes.

When Mrs. Walton saw she was grieved, she was sorry for what she had said; and she called to the child, —

"Come here then, Belle: I want to speak to you."

Belle hesitated a moment, holding the doorknob, and twisting it back and forth; but at last she ran over to Mrs. Walton's side, and put her hand in that which was held out to her.

"I'm sorry I teased Mabel, Aunt Fanny," she said; "and I didn't make this picture for a lesson to her, but for a lesson to myself, and to let her see I did want to make up. It's 'most all about me doing things I ought to Mabel; and I'm going to try to have love-charity, and do 'em."

"Let's see," said Mabel, slipping off the couch and coming to her cousin's side, curiosity getting the better of her resentment.

Belle spread out her picture, and explained all its beauties to Mabel.

"That's me, with ugly, naughty lips like I had yesterday, making you," she said; "and I oughtn't to do it when I am often very spoiled myself."

"No," said Mabel, gazing with rapt interest upon the drawing, and already considerably mollified by finding that Belle put her own failings also in her "proverb-pictures."

"But I don't mean to do it any more, Mabel; but just to try to make you be good and love me by living good my own self. And now there's you and me: me letting you have my carved animals, and not being mad even if you broke one a little bit; but you wouldn't if you could help it, would you?"

"No, indeed, I wouldn't," said Mabel, very graciously: "let's be friends again, Belle."

So the quarrel was once again made up, and this time with more good will on both sides.

"You are a dear child," said Mrs. Walton, and she looked thoughtfully and lovingly at the warm-hearted little girl, who, when she knew she had been wrong, was ready to acknowledge it, and to try to make amends; "and Mabel and I should have been more patient with you in the beginning. Poor child! It was a sad thing for you to lose your mother so early."

"Oh! I didn't lose her," said Belle, looking up in her aunt's face with eyes of innocent surprise.

"How, dear! What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Walton, wondering in her turn. "Your mamma has gone away from you."

"Yes, but she went to Jesus," answered the child, simply. "You don't lose something when you know it is in a very safe, happy place with some one very dear and good to take care of it, even if you can't see it any more: do you, Aunt Fanny?"

"No, I suppose not," said Mrs. Walton.

"Well, you know mamma has gone to heaven to stay with Jesus, and He's taking care of her; and by and by papa and I will go there too, and then we'll see her again; so we didn't lose her, you know. But then I have to be very good and try to please Jesus, and mind what He says; and so I know He wants me to have love-charity for Mabel, and try to not care very much if she does things I don't like. And mamma will be glad too. Oh, no, Aunt Fanny! I didn't lose my dear mamma: I know where she is, all safe."

Mrs. Walton drew her to her and kissed her; while Mabel, wondering at the new softness and sweetness in Belle's face and voice, had forgotten the picture and stood looking at her.

"All safe!"

Five little graves lay side by side in an English churchyard far away; and of those who rested beneath, the mother had always spoken as her "lost darlings." She never called them so again; for were they not "all safe"? Others had told her the same, others had tried to bring comfort to her grieving and rebellious heart; but from none had it come with such simple, unquestioning faith as from the innocent lips of the unconscious little one before her. Her own loved ones, as well as Belle's dear mother, were not lost, but "all safe."

She kissed the child again, this time with tears in her eyes.

"You see," continued Belle, encouraged to fresh confidence by the new kindness of her aunt's manner, – "you see, Aunt Fanny, that makes another reason for me to try to be good. I have a good many reasons to please Jesus; 'cause dear mamma in heaven would want me to be good, and I would like to do what she wants me to, even more when she is away than if she was here; and 'cause I have to be papa's little comfort. That's what he always says I am, and he says I am his sunbeam too."

"I think I must call you that too, darling. You have brought a little ray of sunshine here this morning."

"Maggie says when we're good it's always like sunshine, but when we're naughty it's like ugly, dark clouds," said Belle. "I'm sorry I was a cloud yes'day, and that other day, Aunt Fanny. But I b'lieve it's time for me to go to school now."

"Do you like school?" asked Mrs. Walton.

"Oh, I guess I do!" said Belle. "Why, you don't know what nice times we have! and Miss Ashton is so kind."

"I want to go to school too," said Mabel.

"Not this morning, dear," said her mother.

"Yes, I shall, – I shall too, now! If Belle goes, I will. I shan't stay here with nobody to play with me."

Mrs. Walton coaxed and promised, but all to no purpose. Mabel was determined to see for herself the "nice times" which Belle described: school suddenly put on great attractions for her, and nothing would do but that she must go at once. So, taking her by the hand, Mrs. Walton followed Belle to Mr. Powers' parlor, and asked him what he thought of Mabel's new whim.

Now, to tell the truth, Mr. Powers had believed that the best possible thing for Mabel would be to go to school, and be under the firm but gentle rule of Miss Ashton; but he had not yet proposed it to her mother, knowing that the mere mention of it from another person would be quite enough to make the froward child declare she would never go. Therefore he thought well of Mabel's wish, although he was not prepared to take Miss Ashton by surprise on this very morning.

But he knew there was one vacancy in her little school, and that she would probably consent to let Mabel fill it; and he thought it was best to take advantage of the little girl's sudden fancy, or, as Maggie Bradford would have said, to "strike while the iron was hot."

Accordingly he told his sister that he would himself walk to school with the two children, and learn what Miss Ashton had to say on the matter; and Mabel, being made ready with all speed, set forth with her uncle and cousin.

Miss Ashton agreed to take the new-comer; and Mabel was at once put into the seat formerly occupied by Bessie Bradford. Maggie and Bessie had belonged to Miss Ashton's class; but their mother taught them at home now.

Belle could not help a little sigh and one or two longing thoughts as she remembered her dear Bessie who had formerly sat beside her there, but she did not say a word of her regret to Mabel.

Mabel behaved as well as possible during the whole of school-time; whether it was that she was well amused, or that she was somewhat awed by the novelty of the scene, and all the new faces about her, certainly neither Miss Ashton nor Belle had the least cause of complaint against her when the time came for school to be dismissed.

And this good mood continued all that day, with one or two small exceptions. It is true that on more than one of these occasions there might have been serious trouble between the little cousins, but for Belle's persevering good-humor and patience; and she would have thought herself "pretty naughty," if she had behaved as Mabel did. But she excused and bore with her, because it was Mabel for whom she was to have that charity which "suffereth long and is kind."

It was hard work too for little Belle; for, though naturally more generous and amiable than her cousin, she was pretty much accustomed to having her own way in all things reasonable. At home her every wish was law with her papa and nurse; Maggie and Bessie Bradford could not do enough to show their love and sympathy; and all her young playfellows and school-mates followed their example, and petted and gave way to her "because she had no mother." So "giving up" was rather a new thing for Belle, not because she was selfish, but because she was seldom called upon to do it.

However, she had her reward; for, thanks to her own sweetness and good temper, there was peace and sunshine throughout the day. She saw that her father and aunt were pleased with her; and once even Mabel, seeming touched and ashamed when Belle had quietly yielded her own rights, turned around in a sudden and unwonted fit of penitence, and said, —

"There, take it, Belle: you had the best right; and I won't be mean to you again, 'cause you're real good to me."

"My darling has been such a good girl to-day!" said Mr. Powers, as he took her on his knee when they were alone, and she came for the little talk they generally had before her bed-time: "she has been trying to practise the lesson she learned last night, and so has made all about her happy."

"And been a little sunbeam, papa, have I?"

"Yes, indeed, love, – a true sunbeam."

"And did I make you pleased, papa?"

"Very much pleased, and truly happy, dear."

"And mamma will be pleased too, papa; and mamma's Jesus; and it makes Him my Jesus when I try to be His sunbeam and shine for Him, don't it? I guess everybody would be a sunbeam if they always had 'love-charity.' Tell me it over again, papa, so I will remember it very well, and s'plain to me a little more about it."

VIII.

THE LOCKET

And this really proved the beginning of better things for Mabel. Not that she improved so much all at once, or that she was not often selfish, perverse, and disobedient; or that she did not often try little Belle very much, and make it hard for her to keep her resolution of being kind and patient. Nor must it be supposed that Belle always kept to this resolution, or that she and Mabel did not now and then have some pretty sharp quarrels; still, on the whole, they agreed better than had seemed probable on their first meeting.

And perhaps it was good for Belle, as well as for Mabel, that she should sometimes be obliged to give up her own will to another; and there was no fear, while her papa and old Daphne were there to watch over her interests, that she would be suffered to be too much imposed upon.

But there could be no doubt that Mabel was less unruly and exacting. It might be that she was really happier with a companion of her own age, or that she was shamed by Belle's example and kindness to her, or perhaps it was both these causes; but day by day Belle found it easier to be on good terms with her, and the two children were really growing fond of one another.

Other things which had a good effect on Mabel were going to school and being now and then with Maggie and Bessie. She could not but see how much happier and lovelier were those children who were obedient, gentle, and kind; and she learned much that was good without any direct teaching. And even the "proverb-pictures" became to her what they were intended to be to all, a source of improvement; for Maggie understood better than Belle the art of "giving a lesson" without wounding the feelings; and many a gentle reproof or wise hint was conveyed to Mabel by means of these moral sketches, in which she really took a great interest.