Hatty and Marcus | Page 8

"Indeed, I will!" said Hatty, looking up with her eyes full of tears.
"I won't tease her any more," said Meg, nestling at her mother's side.
Marcus was silent; he felt too deeply to speak, how ill a return he had
made to Aunt Barbara for her kindness to his mother.
"But how came Aunt Barbara here?" asked Hatty, with much interest.
"I will tell you," said Mrs. Lee. "We had been married three years,
when I had a little, helpless, sickly baby. I was too feeble to take proper
care of it, and your father was obliged to be too much away from home
to give me any help. Aunt Barbara heard how weak and pale I was
looking, and what a poor, suffering baby I had. Then the old lady let
her little home to a stranger, and came one day to us. She said she
could not sleep for thinking of me and the little one, and she had come
to take care of us. And what good care she took of us! She seemed to
know just what I wanted. I was young, then, and there were many

things about which I was as ignorant as you are. Aunt Barbara had
nourishing food made for me just when I needed it, she took the care of
the housekeeping from me, and so nursed me that I soon began to feel
strong again. But I have not told you about the poor baby. Aunt
Barbara could not do too much for that baby. It was a cross little thing,
crying even when it was not sick. Aunt Barbara was never out of
patience with it. She attended to its food, got up with it at night, and
even when I was well enough to take it with me again, she was hardly
willing to give it up.
"All this watching and nursing was too much for Aunt Barbara; she has
never been well since. When her rheumatism keeps her awake at night,
she is often irritable and inclined to find fault the next day. When I feel
tempted to be out of patience with her, I have only to remember that it
was for me and my little baby she came here, and that for us she
wearied herself until her health gave way."
"Mother," said Hatty, in a whisper, "was I that little sickly baby that
Aunt Barbara was so patient with?"
"Yes, my darling," was Mrs. Lee's reply.
The many impertinent, hasty, impatient words that she had spoken to
her old aunt, returned to Hatty's mind, and she resolved to ask God to
give her strength to make amends for the past.
"It is a sad truth," said Mrs. Lee, "that old people have much less
patience shown towards them than little children have, yet they need it
quite as much. God has so arranged it, that those who are watched over
and taken care of when they are helpless babes, should in their turn
nurse and comfort the feeble old age of their parents. Remember, my
children, old age makes people in one way like infants; that is, it leads
them to be irritable and troublesome, and often helpless, and these
defects should be borne with tenderly, as your father or I would soothe
that dear baby on Hatty's lap. God has taught in his holy book the
greatest respect to the aged, and his eye sees with displeasure even a
rude look cast towards one who is grey-haired."

The children were all silent. Mrs. Lee saw that they were moved, and in
her heart she prayed that God would grant a blessing upon the earnest
words she had spoken, and save her dear ones from falling into the sin
so offensive to the Holy One of Israel.

IV.
When Hatty went to bed, on the evening of her return, she found Meg
fast asleep, and apparently as much at home as if she had always had a
right to talk of "our room," instead of being one of the children in the
nursery.
Hatty looked at the little brown face lying on the pillow, and the long
dark lashes hiding the mischievous eyes, and she felt that she loved her
little sister dearly, and would be willing to be put to a great deal of
inconvenience to be of service to her. When Hatty knelt that night in
the quiet closet her mother had given up to her use, she did not forget to
pray that she might be patient and gentle with Meg, and so win her
confidence as to be able to lead her to the Saviour, who loves to call the
little ones His own.
Hatty's short reading in the Bible that evening was about the crucifixion
of our Saviour, and