Burke's weekly for boys and girls. (Macon, Ga.) 1867-1870, June 13, 1868, Page 394, Image 2

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394 duty to forgive Frank before the latter asked it? Frank was the aggressor, and ought, at least, to have made the first ad vance towards a reconciliation. That argument, my little friend, is a suggestion of the devil. Frank’s doing wrong, and persisting in it, was no excuse for George to sin. The next morning was Sunday. George had spent a restless night. He had nev er gone to bed in his life, since he was old enough to repeat a prayer at his mother’s knee, without asking God’s blessing; but how could'he pray to be forgiven when he indulged enmity in his own heart? It was an up-hill business, and he felt that God had not heard his prayer. But, this bright Sunday morning, he determined, with God’s help, that he would forgive, as he hoped to be forgiven, and -when he arose from his knees it was with a reso lution to find Frank, and at least do his duty. But how was it with Frank? Had he determined without an effort to abandon the only true friend he had in S ? I am inclined to think that it had been worse with him than with the other. In spite of his selfishness and ill-temper, there was a vein of true, genuine feeling in his nature which rebelled against his conduct to Frank, and nothing but a false and wicked pride kept him from seeking forgiveness before he slept. When, there fore, George sought him out, at his room, on Sunday morning, he not only “met him half way,” but made such a full and complete acknowledgment, that their old friendship was not only renewed, but greatly strengthened. And, lam glad to say that Frank had the manliness to make a public acknowledgment of his fault, and, through George’s influence, he so far improved in his conduct generally, as to gain the friendship of almost the entire school. Macon , Georgia. Coal. Coal is found deep in the earth. It is there that we may dig it out, and make fires of it. W e can get light as well as heat from it; for the gas which we burn to give us light in the house or in the street is got from the coal that men dig out of the ground. Os how much use to us is coal! Is not God good to give us coal? We ought to thank Him with all our hearts for all the good things lie gives us. ♦♦♦ Ignorance is the curse of God; knowledge the wings wherewith we fly to Heaven. Coal. BURKE’S WEEKLY. Little Willie. ®EAR mamma,” low whispered Willie, Rising from his trundle-bed, Softly creeping after mother, With a timid, noiseless tread, “ Do not leave your little Willie, ’Tis so very dark,” he said. t “ Dark ! and what of that, my darling ? God is near you just the same. When you feel afraid, dear Willie, Call upon the Savior’s name; He will light your little chamber, With a soothing, heavenly flame. It will drive away the shadows In my little Willie’s heart; It will bid all gloomy feelings From his timid soul depart; Then the brightness of His Spirit To the room will light impart. “ Jesus will protect you, darling— So you need not be afraid; He is ever near my Willie, Both in sunlight and in shade; Trust him, dearest— sweetly slumber Till the stars at daybreak fade.” Then upon his downy pillow Willie laid his curly head, All his fears of darkness vanished, “ I will trust the Lord,” he said, “ Surely I can fear no danger While He watches o’er my bed.” [Child’B Paper. MM- Written for Burke’s Weekly. MAROONER’S ISLAND ; OR, Dr. Gordon in Search of His Children. BY REV. F . R. GOULDING, Author of “ The Young Marooners.” CHAPTER XXYII— Continued. MRS. McINTOSH—ABREAST OF BELLEVUE—THE PILOT BOAT-OLD TORGAII-PREPARE FOR AN OTHER TOUR. HE day before I)r. Gor don embarked he was pained to receive a let- A YfjlM ’ , o i • . -»r • ysfflSL, ter from his cousin, Maj. M-4l Burke, informing him If\ that up to the date of writing no Mi tidings had been obtained from the missing company of juveniles. lie said nothing of this to Mrs. Gordon, hoping to hear better things on his arri val at Tampa, and relying greatly upon her improvement of health during the voyage to enable her to sustain the dis appointment if the young people should not by that time have arrived; but the intelligence had an irresistibly depressing effect upon his own feelings. “ What could have become of them after leaving the island?” was a question constantly recurring, and never satisfactorily an swered. It was, therefore, with unfeign ed delight that he hailed the hour of his departure, and that he watched the steady progress of the vessel as she ploughed her prosperous way from the beautiful harbor he left to the still more beautiful one he sought. On coming abreast of Bellevue, where the vessel lay to, before passing on to the town and the fort, Dr. Gordon asked to be taken ashore. For prudential reasons he preferred to go alone. Besides appri sing the servants of Mrs. Gordon’s arrival he wished to learn whether the young people had returned, and fearing the effect upon his wife of the dreaded disappoint ment, he preferred to be able, in case of need, to convey her directly to the fort where she would have the cheering pre sence of her cousin, and the medical aid of the surgeon who had so skilfully treat ed his own case. Ere the yawl had pulled over half the distance, Judy, Peter and William were at the landing, ready to welcome him, and he knew by the absence of other figures from the group that he must prepare him self for evil tidings. On asking Judy if anything had been heard from the young people, her reply was : “Not one wud, my dear mossa! Not one wud, septw’at you bring yo’self, long time ago.” With heavy heart he returned to the vessel, picturing to himself the scene of anguish he was destined to behold, and taxing his medical knowledge for the means necessary to relief. To his sur prise, no less than to his joy, he discover ed that Mrs. Gordon bore the disappoint ment with great equanimity; a few natural tears attested her sorrow, but she soon began to act the unexpected part of comforter to himself. Dr. Gordon was first astonished, then alarmed; he feared that his wife was exhibiting the horrid composure of insanity. Some days after wards, however, observing no other indi cations of an unsettled mind, and inqui ring whether there had been anything to prepare her for this disappointment, she replied, with a sweet, submissive smile: “Yes; all through the voyage 1 made it a religious duty, day after day, to try and say with sincerity ‘Not- my will but thine, O Lord, be done!’ I think, too, that you yourself helped me in a way that you did not intend or suspect. Your oc casional seasons of sadness, and your care fully worded language while endeavoring to speak hopefully, all tended to persuade me that something weighed heavily upon your own heart. I, therefore, made up my mind, as otherwise I probably should not have done, to prepare, if possible, foi the worst. And now, my dear husband, I am ready to join you in thanking bod that, although called to grieve over the absence of our children, we have no right yet to grieve over their lass. 1 ' This language instantly relieved 8 1 - Gordon of all fears as to his wife’s sane ness of mind, and awakened in him a