Parables from Flowers Part 6

How eagerly did she hasten home, all anxiety to prove if the old miner's opinion was right, and 'hoping against hope' that the child's sight had become cleared while he slept, and that when he awoke he would look upon her with unclouded eyes. Her heart beat so violently she could scarcely speak, as, standing by his bedside, she saw his blue eyes were unclosed and apparently gazing upon her where she stood with Mat Morgan by her side.

'Davie,' she whispered softly, bending over him and kissing the parted lips, 'here is Master Morgan come to see you.'

'Where is he?' the boy joyfully cried. 'He is not hurt, then? Oh, I am so glad! But, mother dear, I cannot see him, nor you; there seems like a shadow over my eyes. Oh, mother,' he piteously moaned, as the sad truth appeared to strike him, 'tell me, I am not blind, am I?'

Then, as she could not for very anguish reply to his eager question, his n.o.ble courage gave way, and, throwing himself upon his pillow, he uttered a piercing cry of untold despair.

The poor mother knelt beside him with arms closely folding him to her heart, unable to soothe, save with loving caresses, her child's unutterable anguish.

'Nay, Davie, my man,' cried the old miner, wiping his eyes with the back of his rough hand, 'ye did no greet when death a'most stared us in the face; why do ye sorrow now, my brave lad?'

'Oh, but then I should have been with G.o.d! Now'--and his sobs redoubled--'I shall never see mother's dear face again, nor yours, Master Morgan; and for me my Evening Primrose will never open its buds again. And oh, if I am blind, I can never more be mother's little bread-winner.'

The parable is told!

Little Davie eventually recovered his sight, thanks to the generous kindness of the manager, who spared no means to procure the best surgical aid for the poor little lad; and in the years that quickly followed, he became the stay and comfort of his widowed mother, retaining ever his filial affection for her, and cheris.h.i.+ng fond recollections of those early days when his only treasures were her love and his Evening Primrose.

PARABLE FIFTH.

THE LITTLE SEED--KINDNESS.

'Why, what have you got in your beak?' asked a dingy London Sparrow of another, just as dingy as himself.

'Well, I hardly know,' replied his friend, laying down the article in question, and surveying it critically with his head on one side; 'but it seems to me as though it is a seed--of some sort!'

'So it is,' a.s.sented the other, as he hopped nearer and attentively examined the treasure-trove. 'Yes,'--as if the idea had suddenly suggested itself,--'yes, it _is_ a seed. Where did you find it?'

'I did not steal it,' exclaimed the owner of the property, who evidently resented a something in his companion's manner of questioning; 'I honestly picked it up in a garden, where it was lying on the _top_ of the earth, not _in_ it,' he added, with emphasis. 'I expect the wind blew it there, for the gales have been very high these last few days.'

'Yes, yes,' replied the questioner with alacrity; perhaps he feared he had wounded his friend's feelings, and dreaded lest there might ensue a squabble, for sparrows, it must be confessed, are easily affronted over trifles, though, as a rule, they are good-tempered little fellows enough, putting up with scanty fare and homely lodgings very contentedly and cheerfully. 'I wonder what kind of seed it is, do you know?' he still further questioned, being of an inquisitive turn of mind.

'No, I do not,' replied the finder.

'Ah,' he said, with a sigh that ruffled all his feathers, 'if we did but live in the beautiful green hedgerows, instead of dwelling among town chimneys, we should soon know what it was; our country cousins would be able to tell us in a moment if it was good to eat or not. By the bye, shall you eat it?' he pursued, eyeing his friend in the same keen way as he eyed occasional crumbs of bread, his sharp little eye glancing quick and bright whilst waiting for the reply.

'No,' answered the other; 'I shall give it away.'

'Give it away!' he repeated, in utter astonishment at the idea; 'who to?'

'Why, in my travels about this city, I have noticed a small window up among the chimneys in the East End of London--it's a mere garret, I expect.'

'Well?' e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the listener, somewhat impatiently.

'I have also observed,' pursued his companion deliberately, 'that on the ledge of this window there are two or three flower-pots with some tiny pieces of green trying to shoot out of the dry mould.'

'What have those flower-pots and the dry mould to do with this seed?'

was the question he sharply put.

'I think,' continued the other Sparrow, not heeding the interruption, 'this must be a flower-seed, since I found it in a garden well known to me for its loveliness,--for, as a rule, I go about with my eyes open,'

he added. 'Now at this attic window of which I spoke,' he went on saying, 'I have seen a poor pale-faced girl for ever bending over needlework, although sometimes, but very rarely, I have observed her carefully watering and tending those flower-pots with their feeble attempts at greenery.'

'Have you nearly finished your touching description?' asked the friend, with a sneer.

'Now,' went on the Sparrow, as though he had not heard this remark, 'the soil does not look very inviting, yet I have been thinking that, as there has been rain during the night, the mould may be a little softened perhaps; so if I alight on the window-sill, and drop this seed into one of those pots, a pretty flower _might_ come up in time, and then how glad the poor girl would be!--why, it would actually give her happiness.'

And the reflection merely of this hoped-for pleasure so brightened up the little bird that he looked positively lovely! Not even a bird of paradise could have appeared more glorious, dingy brown though our tiny hero's plumage was; but good deeds and kind words always bring a brightness with them.

'Oh, that is what you intend doing!' remarked the other, who had been pruning his flecked feathers whilst listening to this delightful plan;--perhaps he might have imagined the treasure would come to him, since his friend was not going to keep it himself. 'You are very generous,' he added, with a slight touch of sarcasm.

But the kind little Sparrow did not mind; his heart was too full of n.o.ble intentions to notice trivial things. He merely said,--

'So now I'm off! Good-bye for the present. I shall be back in time for roost.'

'Oh, you are going, are you?' was the comment, as his friend picked up the seed again in his beak and flew away.

But, as he darted off, a sunbeam peeped round a corner just to see what the dear little fellow looked like, and this very sunbeam threw such a halo around him, you would have thought his feathers had been burnished gold. Then his voice, too, sounded so cheerily, as, with a merry 'Twit-twit-twee,' he disappeared from view, intent on his errand of kindness.

'I'm sure I should not have troubled myself to carry that burden so far, but should have eaten it for my dinner,' muttered the one sitting on the water-spout. 'Dear me, what's that?' as he caught sight of a shadow round an angle of the roof. 'Oh, gracious!' and he gave such a jump in his terror, as he recognised p.u.s.s.ie taking a walk on the tiles, looking out for her dinner, no doubt.

You may be quite sure Mr. Sparrow did not wait until p.u.s.s.ie came up to him, but flew away to a safe distance.

Meanwhile the other bird was speeding on his errand of kindness. He did not feel the weight of his burden, but went bravely on, only occasionally resting on a water-spout or a parapet, just for a second or two, but never losing sight of his precious seed; though sometimes he was sadly annoyed by other Sparrows coming up, and, with great fuss and chatter, inquiring as to what he was so carefully carrying. But he was very cautious, and always kept an eye upon his treasure (answering their questions curtly), for London Sparrows have the character of being not _too_ honest, with what truth it cannot be said; let us hope the charge is unfounded. Still our hero thought it advisable to be watchful; therefore, after satisfying all curiosity on the subject, as much at least as he deemed needful, he flew off again on his mission--without telling them the ultimate destination of his seed, fearing, perhaps, they might be unable to resist the temptation of picking it out of the mould into which he intended to drop it.

By and by he left the more respectable part of the city, and winged his way as near as he could remember towards the attic window, where he had so often seen the poor work-girl busy at her weary task. But a heavy cloud of smoke darkened the air, and a perfect forest of masts bewildered him, for he had come to that part of London where the s.h.i.+ps are to be seen--thousands of vessels from all countries of the world.

Still, though he was puzzled for a while, yet he felt sure the house was near this place, as he recollected having seen these docks before. What should he do? He paused for a bit upon a slanting roof just to look around. Oh, the s.m.u.ts, how they settled upon his feathers! he was obliged to preen himself, he felt so dirty; if his coat was a dingy brown, there was no occasion for its being dirty also! All at once, as he paused during the process of preening, he saw the very window right in front of him,--he recognised it by its cleanliness, such a contrast to the squalor around. Yes, there it was, the polished panes of gla.s.s glinting in the gleams of light that came now and then through the murky atmosphere; and there were the three flower-pots. Why, actually they had been washed, they looked so freshly red!--or perhaps painted.

Away he joyfully flew, his task was nearly done; but alas for hopes of birds or people! Just as he was about to alight upon the window-sill, a tiresome bird--a Sparrow--came flying towards him, exclaiming,--

'Hallo! who are you, I should like to know?' and so startled was he when accosted thus abruptly, that in his fright he dropped his dear and precious treasure.

Down, down it fell upon a deal case a man was wheeling on a truck. The man did not notice the tiny grain that fell; perhaps, had he done so, would merely have thought it was a particle of dust; but the poor bird's heart was sorely grieved as he saw it disappear, after all the trouble he had taken to bring it thus far, and he sat upon the window-ledge of the girl's room with ruffled plumage and dim eyes, utterly crushed by this untoward loss. It was too bad!

But after a while he took heart, and looked the disappointment boldly in the face, which is always the better plan than brooding over it.

'It can't be helped,' he said wisely, rousing from his sorrowful reflections, and giving his feathers a shake together. 'I did my best, and could do no more. It is a loss certainly, but no doubt there are other flower-seeds to be found, so I'll go to-morrow morning to that same garden, and see if there are any more to be had. Dear me!' he continued, glancing up with his now bright eyes at the sky; 'why, it is getting late. I must make haste home, or else my friends will be anxious, and fear that I have come to grief.'

So saying, he flew away, not without a note of farewell to the girl, who had been looking at him all the time he sat there so disconsolately, wondering in her own mind why he was perched there so ruffled and sad, little dreaming of his kindly intentions towards her--how should she?--so away he went, and reached his place of abode just as his brothers and friends were going to roost.

You may be quite sure he was received with a perfect volley of questions.

'Where have you been?' asked some who were ignorant of his scheme.