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Entor ed according to Act of Congress, in June, 1869, by J. W. Burke & Cos., in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the So. District of G eorgi a
VOL. 111--NO. 49.
THE MISSION SCHOOL.
tS Mabel grew older, she be
came more and [more at
tached to her pleasant Sun
day school, and more anx-
ious that others might share
its blessed privileges.
One day when she was about four
teen years old, she saidj to her mo
ther :
“ Why is it that the little ragged
children who go with me once will
seldom go again ?”
“It is because they feel out ol
place, my dear,” answered her mo
tlicr. “Itisof no use to try to make
anything of them. They would rath
er be in the company of those who
are like themselves.”
“ That is it—just the reason,” re
plied Mabel; “I wonder I did not
think of it. Our school-room is too
nice, and we all dress too well.”
“Yes,” said her mother, “and I
hope you will be contented to leave
them alone.”
But Mabel was not contented.
Now that she knew the reason of her
want of success, she determined to
try and remedy it. Just back ot the
street where she lived was an alley,
and on it an old building which had
been used for a cooper’s shop, iho
glass was broken out ot the windows,
the door was off its hinges, and the
ceilings and walls wore festooned
with cobwebs.
Mabel sought out the owner of the
building and told him she wanted to
hire it for a Mission Sunday School.
He smiled and shook his head in a
doubtful kind of way, then replied:
“There’s need enough of some
thing of the kind, and if you want the
old shop you’re welcome to it, though
I’ve no idea you can get any one to
come in. If you’d only get a fiddle,
now, and offer to teach ’em to dance, it
would be all right. They would come
in fast enough.”
Mabel had pocket-money of her own,
and with it she hired a woman to clean
the building, and whitewash the walls.
MACON, GEORGIA, JUNE 4, 1870.
Then she went to her minister, and tell
ing him what she had done, asked him
to advise her what to do next. He was
much pleased, and told her she had best
go around and invite the children to
come the next Sunday, promising at the
same time to assist her as much as was
in his power.
When the owner of the shop saw how
much in earnest Mabel was, he became
himself very much interested. He put
the door again upon its hinges, and
caused some plain benches to be con
structed for the children to sit upon.
The next Sunday was a bright, clear
day, and in the afternoon Mabel repair-
Whole No. 153.
ell to the shop, coaxing two or three
little ones along with her as she
went. Quite a crowd of children
was collected in the alley, but they
would not come in. She promised
them papers and cards; still they
would not come. Pretty soon the
cooper came, and seeing what the
trouble was, he went home and
brought his violin, telling Mabel that
he would play a few dancing tunes,
and then they would come quick
enough.
She would not consent to this,
however, and just as she was begin
ning to feel a little discouraged, the
minister and his daughter came.
They concluded to sing, and see if
that would not prove an attraction.
They sang, “We are trying to climb
up Zion’s hill,” and in spite of the
minister’s frowns, the cooper gave
his violin a sly touch now and then.
Sure enough, in a few minutes they
came docking in.
Mabel soon formed them in classes.
A prayer was offered, a chapter read,
and another song sung, the children
joining in the chorus.
Then she gave them all beautiful
picture-cards, and promising another
to each one who would bring anew
scholar the next Sunday, they were
dismissed, each feeling very much
pleased, but none more than Mabel.
Laura Spring, in the Little Sower.
A Fable.
A young man once picked up a
sovereign lying in the road. Ever
afterward, as he walked along, he
kept his eyes steadily fixed on the
ground, in the hope of finding an
other. And, in the course of a long
life, he did pick up at different times
a good amount of gold and silver.
But all these days that he was look
ing for them, he saw not that heaven
was bright above him and nature was
beautiful around. He never once al
lowed his eyes to look up, and when he
died, a rich old man, he only knew this
fair earth of ours as a dirty road to pick
up money in as you walk along,