CHAPTER VII.
SUNDAY MORNING.
Sunday morning came, and the sun was fairly risen before either of the little girls was awake. Rosa was the first to open her eyes: she would willingly have taken another nap, but the first stanza of a morning hymn occurred to her mind, and she remembered her resolution to overcome her laziness.
As she repeated—
"Awake, my soul, and with the sun
Thy daily course of duty run,
Shake off dull sloth, and early rise
To pay thy morning sacrifice,"
she got up very carefully that she might not rouse her sister. "I will let the child sleep a little longer," she said to herself, "for she is so pale, I don't believe she is quite well."
It was a beautiful morning: the fields and orchards were bright with the sunshine, and the birds seemed singing even more happily than usual. As soon as Rosa had dressed herself, and finished her usual devotions, she went down stairs to enjoy the fresh air. As she walked in the garden, the conversation she had had with Lucy the evening before passed through her mind. What her uncle had said to her about being useful to her own family seemed about to be realized. "Poor little Lucy," she thought: "may God help me to lead the dear child in the right path."
Harty heard Rosa's footsteps in the garden, and was soon at her side. "Here, brother, is something for your museum," was her greeting, and she pointed to a chrysalis which hung on a low rose-twig by the path. "Is it not beautiful? Just look at the silver spots!"
"It is a capital specimen," answered Harty, as he carefully broke the little branch to which it was fastened: "I wonder what kind of a butterfly it will be. Rosa!" he added, "I did not think you would like such things as these."
"Not like the beautiful things God has made!" exclaimed Rosa. "Why, I love to look at every little object in nature, and think that our Heavenly Father planned it and made it so perfect. It seems easy to believe that He notices all our little joys and troubles, when wo see that even the smallest insect is made with such care."
As Rosa spoke, her eyes sparkled and she looked around her, as if every object which was in sight was a proof to her of the love of the kind Creator. Harty made no answer, but looked thoughtfully at the chrysalis as they entered the house together.