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Short Stories

The Explanation.
Lettice's father was a man of education, a scholar, a gentl...

The Boy And The Gold Robin.
A bright eyed boy was sleeping upon a bank of blossoming cl...

Gather The Flowers.
Two little girls went into the fields to gather flowers. Bu...

Chinese Proverbs.
What is told in the ear is often heard a hundred miles. ...

Early At School.
One Sabbath evening a teacher was walking up and down in th...

Lettice And Myra.
...

The Tree That Never Fades.
"Mary," said George, "next summer I will not have a garden....

Benny's First Drawing.
You have perhaps heard of Benjamin West, the celebrated art...

The Remarkable Wreck Of The Thomas Hyke
It was half-past one by the clock in the office of the Regi...

Melly, Anna And Susy.
There is nothing more pleasant than to see brothers and sis...

The Bit Of Garden.
Young children like to have a small piece of land for a gar...

A Scene In London.
My young readers may have heard about the poor people in Lond...

Good Companions.
One day, says a Persian poet, I saw a bunch of roses, and i...

Bertie's Box.
A very little boy by the name of "Bertie," kept a box in wh...

The Parting Scene.
In one of our western cities was a poor woman, in the garre...

Or, Honesty Rewarded.
At St. Petersburgh, the birth day of any of the royal famil...

The Sailor Boy.
Yarmouth is the principal trade sea-port town in the county...

The Golden Crown.
A teacher once asked a child, "If you had a golden crown, w...

The First Dollar.
I will tell you an affecting story about a young lad by the...

Flying The Kite.
Flying the kite is a pleasant amusement for boys, and when ...



THE DYING BOY.








A little boy, by the name of Bertie, was taken very ill, and for
sometime continued to grow weaker until he died. A few hours before
his death he revived up, and his first request was to be bathed in the
river; but his mother persuaded him to be sponged only, as the river
water would be too cold for his weak frame. After his mother had
sponged him with water, he desired to be dressed; when his mother
dressed him in his green coat and white collar, and seated him at the
table with all his books and worldly treasures around him. As he sat
there, one would have thought that he was about to commence a course
of study; and yet in the marble paleness of his features, and in the
listless and languid eye, there was evidence that life in the boy was
like an expiring taper, flickering in the socket. He soon asked to go
out in his little carriage. His grandfather, whom he very much loved,
placed him in it, and carefully avoiding every stone, drew him to a
spot commanding the entire landscape. The tide was up and the sun was
shining on the deep blue waters, and bathing the distant mountains and
the green meadows in liquid gold. The gardens and orchards around were
gay in the rich crimson blossoms of the apple tree; the air was filled
with the sweet fragrance of flowers, and the birds were singing
beautifully, when little Bertie looked for the last time on the scenes
of earth. He could not remain long, and was soon taken back to the
little parlor, where he sat on the sofa, resting his elbows on the
table. It was not long before the little boy died. But he was very
happy. Among his last words were these, addressed to his little sister
three years old: "Well, Emmie, very ill--me going to Jesus."

"Oh, mamma, Emmie loves her Saviour."





Next: THE BOY AND THE GOLD ROBIN.




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