"Many years ago there dwelt in a little cot on a hill's side an aged matron and her grandchild; they were alone, but not lonely, for they were happy in each other's society; their wants were few, and their gratitude unbounded. There were no neighbors near them,—no gossips to drop in upon them, and fritter away the precious moments. They subsisted on the produce of their garden, and labored for their daily bread in gladness of heart.
"Every morn, almost with the sun, Eva arose, fed the chickens that fluttered around her, and went through her business merrily,—richly rewarded by the approving smile of her aged parent, when she blessed her darling before retiring to rest.
"But 'man is born to trouble, as the sparks fly upward,' and this happy pair were not exempt from the curse. One night, the wind blew, the rain fell in torrents, thunder and lightning rent the skies, and, in fear and trembling, the aged woman and her fair grandchild wept and prayed, until the glorious sun rose above the horizon, and proclaimed the advent of another day. Then Eva stepped to the cottage door, and gazed in speechless agony on the devastation wrought by the fury of the elements in one single night. The beautiful path, lately so trim and neat, which led to her garden, was blocked up with stones borne from the mountain's side by the violence of the torrent. Her vines were crushed and drooping; and even the poor birds came not to her side, but remained crowded together in a corner under the shade of the cottage roof.
"'Alas! alas!' cried she, 'where is the pretty path I used to tread,—where are my flowers, my shrubs,—where all my joys and happiness? Gone! gone! and left desolation and misery in their stead. I cannot repair this damage, I shall no longer have pleasure in my work, for one storm has undone the toil of months; and now our cottage must stand in a wilderness, our garden must be overgrown with weeds, and my chickens must die of starvation!' then, wringing her hands, she sank on the earth and wept.
"How long she wept I know not, but she was aroused by a gentle pressure on her shoulder; and, raising her eyes, she beheld a beautiful female, whose cheerful, good-natured countenance put to shame the tears of despair which bedewed the cheeks of the fair Eva.
'Why weepest thou?' said she; 'why not be up and doing? What has been done, can in like manner be again effected. Arise, and follow me.'
"'But I am alone,' remonstrated the weeping girl; 'and without assistance am unable to repair these ravages.'
"'I will assist thee,' replied her beauteous visitor; 'fear not, together we will accomplish much.' So saying, she led forth the gentle girl, and in a few hours their voices might be heard in one united stream of flowing harmony, filling the air with delicious sounds, and the heart of the aged woman with rapture.
"For many days, Eva worked in company with her angelic friend, until, at length, Desolation acknowledged her power, and disappeared. Her garden was restored to its pristine beauty,—the path was cleared.—her favorites flocked around her; and again kneeling in thankfulness at her grandmother's feet, she read her evening lesson, and praised Almighty God, who in love and mercy sent 'Peace on earth, Goodwill toward all men.' Now, my child, who thinkest thou was Eva's helpmate?"
"I know not, dear mamma, unless it were Perseverance."