When I went to visit a friend, the other day, I saw a little girl with whom I was much pleased. She sat on a low seat by the fire-side, and she held in her hand a pretty white sea-shell, faintly tinted with pink, which she kept placing against her ear; and all the while a settled calm rested upon her face, and she seemed as if she were listening to the holy tones of some loved voice; then taking it away from her ear, she would gaze upon it with a look of deep fondness and pensive delight. At last I said,
"What are you doing, my dear?"
"I am listening to the whisper."
"What whisper?" I asked.
"The whisper of the sea," she said. "My uncle sent me this shell, and a letter in which he said, 'If I placed it against my ear I should hear the whisper of the sea;' and he also said, he would soon come to us, and bring me a great many pretty things; and mamma said, when we heard the whisper of the shell, we would call it uncle Henry's promise. And so it became very precious to me, and I loved its sound better than sweet music."
Robert and John.
One fine May morning, Robert and John were told by their mamma to go to school. So they put on their caps, and having kissed their mamma, were soon on their way. Now, first they had to pass through a pleasant lane, with tall elm trees on one side, and a hawthorn hedge on the other; then across two fields; then through a churchyard, and then up a little grove, at the end of which was the school-house. But they had not gone more than half the way down the lane, when John began to loiter behind, to gather wild flowers, and to pick up smooth little pebbles which had been washed clean by the rain, while Robert walked on reading his book. At last, John, calling after his brother, said, "I do not see what is the use of going to school this fine morning; let us play truant."
"No," replied Robert; "I will not take pleasure, for which I know I must suffer in after hours."