XL. EYES AND NO EYES.
Have you ever heard of the "Black Country"? It is a part of England where there are many furnaces and iron-works, and a great deal of smoke; that is why it is called by this name.
Two boys, named Francis and Algie, lived in this district, for their father was an iron-worker, and one evening they went out for a long walk. They were away two or three hours, and when they returned their mother said: "Well, boys, what did you see in your walk?"
"Nothing, mother," replied Algie, "there is nothing pretty to be seen; it is all black and ugly."
"Ah!" said Francis, "but there was the sky, and that was beautiful, for we were walking towards the sunset, and the colours were changing all the time. First the sky seemed to be all over gold, and then as the sun went down it changed to red; next when I looked there were shades of a lovely green or blue, which soon changed to dark red; it was the loveliest sunset I have ever seen."
How strange it was that, although both boys had eyes, only one of them saw anything worth seeing! Francis was the boy with "eyes," while Algie was as though he had "no eyes". Keep your eyes open, children, and try to see all that is beautiful. It is such a pity when people grow up and walk about without seeing anything. There is always something to see in the sky. Sometimes it is all a lovely blue, with white, fleecy clouds floating across it, or piled up in curly masses; and at night it is of a deeper blue, and the stars come peeping out, reminding us in their beauty of goodness and God:—
Thou Who hast sown the sky with stars—
Setting Thy thoughts in gold.
And the silver moon, which is always changing its shape, how lovely that is! Do not forget to look for the beauty of the sky.
89. Ruby and the Wall.
Little Ruby was not two years old, but she always noticed things, and tried to find out their names.
One day when she was walking out with her auntie they passed a stone wall. Ruby looked at it, and then glancing up said, "Wall".
"Yes," said auntie. "What is the wall made of?"
"Coal," answered Ruby quite seriously. (I suppose the blocks of stone reminded her of the same shape in the coals.)
"No, it is not coal," said auntie.
Ruby was puzzled, and thought for a little, then she said, "Wash it".
You see she had never heard the word "stone," and as her little hands, when dirty, became lighter coloured with washing, she thought that stone must be "washed" coal. It was wrong, of course, but it shows you that tiny Ruby used her eyes, and thought about things.
(Blackboard.)
Two kinds of eyes:—
1. Eyes that See—Francis, Ruby.
2. Eyes that do not See—Algie.
XLI. LOVE OF THE BEAUTIFUL.[17]
You have often gathered buttercups and daisies, but have you ever gazed into the daisy's yellow eye, and thought how wonderful it was? You will find that it is made up of many tiny flowerets, all packed closely together. And the fringe of white petals, tipped with pink, how beautiful they are! and so dainty that we might almost think they had been painted by the pencil of a fairy! And have you noticed the strong, green cup which closes round the petals at night, and keeps them all safe?
You have held the pretty buttercup under your chin to make it look yellow, but have you ever looked carefully at the shining petals of gold? How smooth, and clear, and glossy they are!
There was once a great, wise king, who was so rich that he had plates and cups of gold instead of china. He made a beautiful throne of ivory, with six lions on the one side and six on the other, and the throne was all overlaid with gold; how bright and glittering it would be! And then picture the king himself in his robes of state, seated on his gilded throne, how dazzling and beautiful it would all look! And yet the greatest Teacher who ever lived—He who took the little children in his arms—said that the great King Solomon, with his throne of ivory and gold, "in all his glory" was not so beautiful as the lily growing in the field. So you see the best of all beauty is close beside us, at our feet indeed, if we only have eyes to see it.
Dear little modest daisy,
I love your yellow eye,
I love the pink-tipped petals
That round the centre lie;
I love the pretty buttercup
Of lovely, shining gold;
I love it, for it speaks to me,
Of wondrous love untold.
You have heard of other beautiful sights and sounds in the Story Lessons that have gone before ([87], [88]), and in the Story Lesson which follows you will learn why it is good to love all these beautiful things.