Aunt Amy; or, How Minnie Brown learned to be a Sunbeam, Page 2

wretched-lookinghouse, half hid by the foliage of the trees, on the opposite side ofthe quarry. Turning to Minnie, she pointed her finger towards it, andasked,--

  "Minnie, what house is that yonder?"

  Minnie's eye followed the direction of her aunt's finger until she sawthe cottage, or hovel. She knew whose it was, and so she said,--

  "That is Mrs. Button's house, aunt. She is very poor."

  "Has she no husband to take care of her, Minnie?"

  "Her husband is a bad man, aunt. People say he used to beat her sadly.But he has gone away now, and no one knows where he is."

  "Has she any children?"

  "She has a girl about my age; the children call her ragged Kate."

  "Poor child! I think we must call and see her and her mother. Perhaps wecan do them some good."

  "Why, aunt! You don't mean it, do you?"

  "Why not, Minnie? Our Savior, you know, loved to help the poor, and wemust try to imitate him."

  "Yes, aunt, but--" and Minnie paused, as if unwilling to utter all shethought.

  "But what, Minnie?"

  "Why, aunt, I've heard say that Mrs. Button is a passionate woman; andthey say that Kate swears when Bill Boaster teases her. So I thought youwould not choose to call at the house of such a woman."

  "Perhaps it may not be pleasant, Minnie. But the more wretched thesepoor creatures are, the greater is their need of aid and counsel. Come,let us walk over and see the poor woman; who knows but that we may be assunbeams to a dark and desolate spirit?"

  "As sunbeams, aunt! How can we be sunbeams?" asked Minnie, as she walkedalong with her aunt towards the cottage.

  "Sunbeams are bright, cheerful things, you know, Minnie. They scatterclouds and darkness, clothe nature with beauty, and fill the world withlight and joy. Do you understand that?"

  "Yes, aunt."

  "Well, then, if we visit this woman, who is in trouble, and who has asad heart, and if we can lighten her burden, and make her heart glad, weshall do for her what the sunbeams do for the world."

  "O, yes, aunt, I see; and I would try to be a little sunbeam if I knewhow. But here is the cottage."

  Minnie's aunt gave a gentle tap at the door. A gruff voice replied,--

  "Come in."

  Pushing the door open, Minnie and her aunt entered the cottage. It hadbut one room, and that was wretched enough. Many of the windows werebroken, and pieces of shingle were stuck over the holes in the glass. Inone corner stood a miserable bedstead, with a ragged coverlet partiallyspread over a dirty bed tick filled with leaves. There was only onechair, and that was a broken rocker, on which the unhappy mistress ofthe cottage was seated. But there were two or three rough stools, madeof pieces of pine slab, standing beside the rickety table. Pointing tothese stools, Mrs. Button, without quitting her chair, said to hervisitors,--

  "Take a seat."

  Aunt Amy looked on the poor woman with great kindness; and Minnie,thinking all the time of the sunbeams, did the same. Speaking in gentletones, aunt Amy soon found the way to the poor woman's heart, and drewfrom her the story of her woes. It had been a long time since she hadheard a voice of kindness, or met with affectionate sympathy like thatnow shown to her by Minnie's aunt. It was not lost upon her. Trouble andsin had long frozen up her better feelings. But under the warmth ofaunt Amy's words of hope and love, the ice melted, and the poor creaturewept freely as she told of her early and better days; of her husband'sfall into evil habits; of her own evil temper, which his bad treatmenthad excited; and of her poverty, and sorrow, and despair.

  To all this aunt Amy listened with kind attention. She spoke words ofhope in the woman's ear. She urged her to seek pardon from God for hersins, to look with faith for better days, until the poor woman'scountenance lighted up, and Minnie said to herself,--

  "My aunt is really a sunbeam to this woman."

  At last aunt Amy rose to leave. The woman arose, too, with great respectin her manners. Aunt Amy placed a piece of money in her hand, andsaid,--

  "Now, Mrs. Button, be hopeful. I will send you a few things, presently,to help you along. I will also try to procure you some plain sewing; andif you will try to help yourself, and trust in God, he will help you;friends will rise up around you, and you will yet see better days."

  "Bless you, ma'am, for your kindness. You are the first friend I haveseen this many a year," said the poor woman, while hot tears trickleddown her wan cheeks.

  Minnie and her aunt now left the cottage. The little girl had learned alesson, by what she had seen, which she did not soon forget. Her gentlenature was charmed by the love her aunt had shown to the poor woman.After walking in silence a while, she said,--

  "Aunt Amy, I guess you are the brightest sunbeam that ever entered Mrs.Button's cottage! Why, her pale face brightened up and looked almostcheerful before you left."

  "You see, then, Minnie, how little it costs to do good. Our visit hasreally made the misery of that woman less, and it has done us good. Wecan now think of our walk with pleasure, because it has been useful."

  "Well, aunt, I wish I could be a sunbeam to somebody before I get home."

  "Perhaps you may be. Look down yonder lane. There is a little boycrying. He looks as if he was in trouble. See if you can comfort himwith a kind word or two."

  While Minnie ran to see what good she could do to the weeping boy, agirl came along, very poorly clad, and carrying a bundle of dry stickson her head. Aunt Amy's kind heart pitied the poor child. She stoppedher and said,--

  "What is your name, little girl?"

  "Kate," said the girl, looking earnestly at her questioner.

  "Kate! Where do you live?"

  "Down the lane, in yonder cottage. I'm Mrs. Button's gal."

  "I'm glad to meet you, Kate. I've just seen your mother. I want you totry to be a good girl, and help her. Do you go to Sunday school?"

  "No. I'se got no clothes fit to wear there."

  "Would you like to belong to one if you could get a new dress?"

  "Don't know whether I should or no. Never was in a Sunday school in allmy life," replied Kate, looking at the lady with a stare of wonder.

  "Well, Kate, I'll send you some clothes and see your mother about theschool before Sunday."

  Aunt Amy now walked slowly on to meet Minnie, who was running back fromher errand of kindness. Coming up to her aunt, with a flushed face andjoyous look, she said,--

  "O aunt Amy, I'm a sunbeam now! I've made that boy's heart glad."

  "What did you do for him, Minnie?"

  "Why, you see, aunt, he had been gathering a pail of berries for hisgrandmother, and was very tired. As he ran along the road with his pail,he kicked against a stone, fell down, spilled his berries, and hurt hisknee. The poor boy was weeping, and I told him not to cry, for I wouldpick up his berries while he rested himself and wiped the dirt from hisclothes. Then I picked up his berries, speaking kind words to him allthe time. He soon left off crying, and when I gave him the pail, helooked so glad it made me cry for joy; for I knew I was a sunbeam tohim."

  "You are right, Minnie. I am glad to find you so apt a scholar in theart of doing good. But it is time for us to be going home now; yourmother will feel uneasy about us, we have been gone so long."

  Minnie gave aunt Amy her hand, and they walked to the village, talking,as they went, about Mrs. Button, and Kate Button, and about gettingsome clothes fit for Kate to wear to Sunday school. And I doubt if therewere two happier persons in all Rosedale than they.

  That evening, aunt Amy proposed to take Minnie and her mother, in hercarriage, the next day, on an excursion to a pleasant seaport, aboutfive miles from Rosedale. This trip promised too much pleasure to berefused. So it was agreed that they should start early in the morning,and spend the day in rambling on the sea shore.

  Minnie awaked very early the next morning, and was up and dressed, allready for breakfast, before either her aunt or her mother came downstairs. She was all alive with thoughts of what she should see and doduring the day. Indeed, she was so full o
f happy excitement she atescarcely any breakfast; and I am afraid she thought too much about theride while her good father was offering his morning prayer at the familyaltar. This was hardly right; but Minnie was only a little girl, and wemust excuse her for feeling like a child.

  After family prayer was ended, aunt Amy's carriage, with its fine horsesand fat coachman, drove up to the door. Minnie smiled, as she glanced atthe jolly-looking driver, while on her way to the carriage. When shewas seated opposite to her aunt and mother, and the horses began tomove, she said,--

  "Aunt Amy, how good natured your fat coachman looks!"

  "Yes, Minnie, John is a Christian, and that makes him cheerful. He is agood,