M. You, my dear Lucy, are one; if you love him, and believe in him as your Saviour, and seek to do his will in all things, and are willing to follow his word.
L. O, mamma, I should like to be one; how quiet and happy the lamb seemed to be when the shepherd was carrying it.
M. Well, then, my dear love, pray to the Saviour; he said, “Suffer little children to come to me and forbid them not;” pray to him, that he may give you a new heart, which will be happy in loving him and obeying his word, through the power of the Holy Spirit, which he has promised to give to all that ask it; and earnestly try to be a good girl, and to subdue all naughty and unkind tempers.
Lucy again thanked her mamma; and as she had finished her lesson, she went and put her book away in its place. I hope my readers will remember this, for it is very untidy to leave books littering about upon chairs or the floor. She then took her work, and went and sat down by the window, and began to sew very busily.
Just as she had begun, her little brother Samuel came into the room; he went up to her, and said, “Lucy, dear, if you please, will you cut out this paper stag for me? I have drawn its legs very nicely, as you see, but I am afraid I shall not be able to cut them out properly, they are so very slender, and I want to put it on papa’s table before he comes home, to surprise him.”
I am sorry to say, that instead of doing this directly, and in a kind manner, Lucy frowned, and said, in a short sharp tone, “How troublesome you are, you are always teazing me; I have just sat down to work and I am too busy, go and do it yourself.”
Little Samuel was a good boy, and instead of returning a sharp answer to her cross speech, he said, “Lucy, please to cut it out, you will do it so much better than I can, and it will not take you a minute.” Lucy put down her work, and took up her scissors; but when people set about a thing in an ill humour they never do it properly, and this was the case with Lucy. Her brother had taken a great deal of pains to draw the stag very nicely, but she cut it out very carelessly, and presently poor Samuel saw that one of its legs was cut quite off.
“There,” said he: “there, my poor stag; it is quite spoiled, you have cut its leg off.”
“Finish it yourself,” said Lucy, throwing the stag one way and the scissors another. “It’s all your fault, you ought to have let me go on quietly with my work, and not come to interrupt me, as you always do.”
Poor Samuel looked quite surprised; he was sorry to see his nice stag spoiled, but he was still more sorry to see Lucy so out of humour, and he could not think that it was his fault. Indeed, I have generally found that when people are very ready to blame others, the fault has commonly been their own, after all.