Some of them were nearing the age when boys think they are too big to go to Sunday-school, and their teacher resolved if possible to keep them, so their teacher was continually seeking to strengthen her hold upon them. Whenever and wherever she found anything she could make available as a means to the end she had in view, she seized upon it. Sometimes the merest trifle would give rise to a thought or plan, and she would say, "I must work that up for the boys."
And that morning in the picture room, she had caught an idea from a conversation which was going on over a portfolio of "Views on Venice." The gentleman of the party was evidently familiar with the scenes which these "Views" represented, and Mabel grew interested in his remarks. He was saying,—
"These paths, one can't call them streets, are fearfully narrow and tortuous. There is just one thing to prevent a stranger from getting hopelessly lost in the tangle of crossings and twistings. The principal footpath is of white marble, and this leads directly to the Ponte di Rialto. So one has only to keep to this white line to come out all right. And I have often thought," continued the speaker, whom Mabel now recognized as Dr. V., an eminent Sunday-school worker, "how the life of Jesus, pure and perfect, leading straight on to the goal of our aspirations, is laid before us in the Gospels, a sure guide for our feet amid the crooked ways of life."
That was all. At that moment, the clerk brought the articles for which she was waiting, and claimed her attention. But an hour or two later, having disposed of the shawl question, and various other matters in the way of laces, ribbons, gloves and the like, she had time to finish out her list of Christmas gifts for her class. It was a Bible this time for Henry Trafton, who did not own one. Not that his parents were too poor to buy one for their son, but they had never thought anything about it. In their handsome parlour a family Bible, in Turkey leather and gilt clasps, reposed upon a cushion that was a marvel of needlework and patience, and Mrs. Trafton had a smaller volume which she kept upon her private book-shelf. But Henry came Sabbath after Sabbath without a book, and read the lesson out of his neighbour's Bible. No wonder he never had a lesson!
As Mabel made her selection, a thought of the fragment of the conversation which she had just heard flitted through her mind, and her eye alighted upon the words, "I am the way," and then "None cometh unto the Father but by me," she exclaimed, "That's the very thing!"
"What did you say?" asked the attendant, wondering.
"Oh, excuse me; I'll take this, and this," and to herself she said, "I must learn not to talk loud when I speak to Mabel Wynn. But that is just the thing for our class motto. 'Follow the White Line.' If I could only manage the cards, if I were a bit of an artist, I could get them up myself. I must manage it."
She did. The cards with the motto printed in the style of the illuminated texts—which she had been looking over, failing to find just the right thing for her purpose—were ready by Christmas—small ones for book marks, and larger, handsomer ones in pretty frames. They were hung upon the tree of many fruits which the school met to enjoy and appropriate, and each boy received a private letter explaining the motto and containing words of earnest warning and affectionate entreaty. They were invited to take Christ as a pattern and more than this, to accept him as a Saviour.
When they came to talk it over together, the teacher said, "I hope you will all adopt it as your own motto. It is my earnest prayer that we may all make our lives as near like Christ's as possible. We shall need to 'watch and pray' if we would keep the path he has laid down, for there are many turns in this life and many things to draw us out of the narrow way. But none of you have said how you like it."
"I like it," said Lewie Amesbury. "At school, day schools, I mean, teachers are always holding up some great man for a pattern, but I think it is a great deal better to have a perfect pattern. I s'pose we can't be perfect, but we ought to try and live as near the rules Christ laid down as we can."