Conscience | Page 7

number to wait upon him in the name of the whole, to express their thanks. "When the old man approached me," said the gentleman to me, "he took off his hat and was going to speak, but the tears came in his eyes, and he could not. He went away, and presently returned; but again he lost his self-command, and turned away. At last, he recovered himself enough to speak, and these were his words: "'Tis the first time, sir, that we were ever treated like men."
The captain, who laughed at the whim of these gentlemen, said afterwards that he had never had such work from his sailors as he had from that time to the end of the voyage.
I will tell you yet another true story.
There was a poor girl who was ill of a consumption. She did not suffer much, yet was pretty certain that she should never get well. She was very happy, however, for she had many beautiful thoughts to keep her company in the sick room.
One day a good man came to visit her, and told her of a school in Canada, to teach colored people who had been slaves, and had run away from their masters. You know that in Canada American slaves become free English subjects.
He told her that he was trying to get money to pay teachers in this school.
The poor girl was very much interested, wished much to contribute something, and felt grieved at her poverty. Presently her face lighted up with a sad smile. "I have," said she, "one thing of value which I could give you, but," (and she looked very sad,) "it would be hard parting with it. My mother gave it to me." She went to a drawer, and took out of it a gold necklace. Then, as if she were talking to herself, she said, "How sweetly my mother smiled upon me when she put this around my neck! I cannot wear it now, my neck is so thin, and is always covered up. She would wish me to give it for this purpose, I know. Yes, she would like I should do it. But then I cannot bear to give it away. It was hers; she wore it herself. I shall not keep it a great while longer, at any rate. I can desire my uncle to give it to the school when I am gone." She covered her face with her hands, but you could see her tears through her thin, emaciated fingers.
Her friend, who had told her about the school, simply to please and interest her, begged her not to think any more of giving away the necklace, and spoke to her of something else.
"No," said she, "I cannot keep it, now that it has come into my mind that I ought to give it to you for the school. You must take it. Forgive my weakness; the thought of my dear departed mother brings the tears to my eyes."
"Think again, then, before you give away this precious necklace," said the good man.
She put the necklace into his hand, and said, as she did so, "I have thought of it again, and I have decided to give it."
He took it, and left the generous-hearted girl, praying that she might recover, but fearing that he should never see her again.
Not long after this, in a steamboat, he met a gentleman with whom he had much conversation upon various subjects; among others the institution for the instruction of the poor runaways. He mentioned among other things this poor girl's gift, and her grief at parting with her mother's gold necklace. "I hated," said he, "to take it. She will not stay here long, and her pleasures are very few." He mentioned also the name of the town in New Hampshire where she lived.
"That is my native place," said the gentleman to whom he was relating the story. "Will you let me see the necklace?"
"Certainly," said the missionary, and he took it from his pocket.
"What sum of money shall you obtain for this necklace?"
"I have had it weighed," said he, "and I shall get so much money for it," naming the sum.
"Are you willing to sell it to me for that sum?"
"Certainly; that is all I can obtain for it."
The bargain was concluded. The stranger paid the sum. Then, putting the necklace into his own pocket, he said, "She shall have it for a new year's gift."
Now let us, on the first of January, visit the poor sick girl again. Early in the morning, some one hands her a little parcel--she opens it, and there is her precious necklace, the gift of her dear mother in the heavenly land. It is accompanied by a short note in which the writer begs her not to part with