The Angel Children

  Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Labyrinths and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  THE GARDEN OF GOD.--See pp. 40, 41.]

  Rosy Diamond Story Books For GirlsIllustratedTHE ANGEL CHILDRENBOSTON, LEE & SHEPARD.]

  THE

  ANGEL CHILDREN;

  OR,

  STORIES FROM CLOUD-LAND.

  BY

  CHARLOTTE M. HIGGINS.

  BOSTON:LEE AND SHEPARD.

  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1854, byPHILLIPS, SAMPSON & CO.,

  In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District ofMassachusetts.

  Stereotyped byHOBART & ROBBINS,New England Type and Stereotype FounderyBOSTON.

  CONTENTS.

  PAGEHEPSA AND GENEVIEVE, 5THE GARDEN OF GOD; OR, THE BABY'S FIRST SMILE, 26CYBELE, THE TAMBOURINE GIRL, 44THE STORY OF MAGGIE'S JOURNEY, 63THE OLD WOMAN AND THE ENCHANTED SONG, 84THE OLD MAN'S STORY, 102A STORY OF THE CHRIST-CHILD, 118

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  THE GREAT ROSY DIAMOND. DAISY; or, The Fairy Spectacles. VIOLET: A Fairy Story. MINNIE; or, The Little Woman. THE ANGEL CHILDREN. LITTLE BLOSSOM'S REWARD.

  These volumes are finely and profusely illustrated from designs byHoppin and other eminent artists. They are elegantly bound, and neatlypacked in ornamental boxes. As gifts for holidays and birthdays, where auniform value and appearance is desired, they are excellent.

  =LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston.=

  STORIES.

  HEPSA AND GENEVIEVE.

  Genevieve lived in a large, handsome house, which had beautiful gardensall about it. She had no brother or sister, but she had a largeplay-room, filled with the nicest toys, so that a good many children whocame to play in it thought she must be perfectly happy; but Genevievehad often thought how willingly she would give the room and all itsplaythings for a little brother of her own, whom she might take out inthe garden for a walk, and watch carefully, just as her mother watchedher.

  One day, while she was walking in the garden, thinking of the littlebrother she so much wanted, who she was sure would look like her dearmother, with her blue eyes, and golden curls, what should she hear butthe noise of some one crying outside the garden fence. Now, as shecould not look through the fence,--for it was quite high and made ofthick boards,--she ran quickly to the gate, and then round to the placewhere she had heard the crying. There she saw a little girl sitting uponthe side-walk, with bare feet and legs, which were none of the whitest,wearing a dress of brown cloth with many tatters in it, and short blackhair hanging over her face and head. Genevieve looked at her inamazement.

  "Dear me!" she at last exclaimed, "where do you live?"

  At this question the child stopped her crying, and pulling away her hairwith both of her hands from her face, disclosed a pair of large blackeyes, which, swollen with tears, regarded little Genevieve with sly,sleepy wonder.

  It was not wonderful she should be astonished to behold so neat andpretty a child close by her side. Genevieve wore a blue frock and whiteapron, neat stockings and slippers, and pantalettes with broad ruffles.So she only gazed at Genevieve, without dreaming of answering herquestion.

  "What is your name?" asked Genevieve.

  "What is yours?" demanded the child.

  "Mine is Genevieve. Tell me what yours is?"

  "Hepsa. Do you live in there?" and Hepsa nodded her head towards thefence. Genevieve replied that she did.

  "But tell me why you were crying?" she asked.

  "Because Tom beat my black cat this morning and threw her into the pond,and she was everything I had." Hepsa burst into tears again, and littleGenevieve's heart was so filled with compassion, that she sat down uponthe dirty ground, at the side of the afflicted child, without everthinking of the blue frock and clean pantalettes she was soiling.

  "O, dear, dear!" she cried, shocked at Tom's cruelty. "How wicked hewas! What made him do so,--your brother, too?" Genevieve thought in herheart that little brother, of whom she so often thought, never wouldhave done such a thing.

  Hepsa looked up half angrily, as she replied:

  "You needn't keep telling me he is my brother! I'm sure I don't wanthim to be, and wish he wasn't. I don't love him a bit, he always plaguesme so much."

  "O, Hepsa, don't say so; pray don't!" cried Genevieve, shocked atHepsa's passion. "If he is your brother, you ought to love him, youknow."

  "I don't know any such thing, I tell you! You may love him yourself ifyou want to; but I guess, when he kicks you, and beats you, and stealsyour things, and knocks your mud-houses down, you won't love him. I'dlike to know why _I've_ got to love him?" Hepsa demanded this ofGenevieve in a very fierce manner.

  "Because he is your brother I suppose, and because he ought to be good;and perhaps he plagues you because you don't love him," answeredGenevieve, somewhat perplexed how she should answer the question,thinking in her own heart Hepsa had a very wicked brother. "At anyrate," she continued, "God gave him to you; and I have read how he tellsus all to love each other."

  "I never did," replied Hepsa; "and if God gave Tom to me, I wish he'dtake him back, for I don't want him."

  "Why, Hepsa; how wicked you are! You shall not talk so!" almost shriekedGenevieve. The tears came fast into her eyes, she was so grieved to hearHepsa talk in that way.

  "But I'm not wicked!" retorted Hepsa indignantly. "I don't know who Godis. Why should I? He never comes to see me. I suppose he comes to seeyou, and is some great person; while I am poor and live in a mean house,and nobody comes to see me, of course." Hepsa looked away fromGenevieve's blue frock, and seemed to be searching for something awaydown the street.

  Genevieve could not sit still any longer, but, rising, she remonstratedwith Hepsa in this manner:

  "God is not a man, Hepsa; and he goes into poor houses as often as intorich ones."

  Hepsa looked very sharply upon little Genevieve as she replied,

  "Ha! Don't you be telling me stories; why don't I see him ever, I'd liketo know? Haven't I got eyes?"

  "I don't know," said Genevieve, doubtfully. "Father was reading thismorning about people who had eyes, but could not see."

  Hepsa looked at her a moment, and then nodded her head towards her, andsaid, speaking low as to a third person, "She's cracked a little, Ithink;" then, as she looked towards the fence, she remembered the gardenwhich was behind it, and asked Genevieve for some flowers. But Genevieveonly said "O, yes," and went on to say, "Of course you can't see God,Hepsa! He lives in the skies."

  "I shouldn't think he would come down here, then. I wouldn't!"

  "But, Hepsa, God loves us; then, too, he is everywhere at once."

  "Mercy!" said Hepsa to herself, in a low tone. "Worse and worse!"

  "And he made everything you see, Hepsa, and a great deal more beside,"continued Genevieve.

  "There, there!" said Hepsa, impatiently; "don't talk any more; it soundsodd." Genevieve looked at Hepsa, and the wild, petulant look of herface grieved and shocked her so much, that she burst into tears.

  "What is the matter?" said Hepsa. "I thought you were going to get methe flowers."

  "And so I will," said Genevieve, wiping up her tears as well as shecould; and she r
an into the garden, and picked a large bunch of flowers.There were the sweet mignonette and heliotrope, the pink verbena, andthe beautiful white scented verbena, the gay phlox, the pure candytuft,bits of lemon blossoms, and the faithful pansies. It was such abeautiful bunch as to melt poor Hepsa's heart to gratitude.

  "I do think I should love to kiss you," she said to Genevieve, "if myface were not so dirty, and you look _so_ clean."

  "I don't care!" said Genevieve, and so she kissed Hepsa and said,"Hepsa, I wish you would never again talk so about God, for I love himvery dearly, and so do my father and mother."

  Hepsa began to think Genevieve was not crazy, and so she became moreserious.

  "But did you never read about Him, Hepsa?" asked Genevieve.

  "No, indeed; I can't read at all!" exclaimed Hepsa, astonished atGenevieve's questions.

  "Not read! Why, Hepsa, why don't you go to school?"

  "I can't; mother keeps me at home to tend the baby while she goes towashing."

  A bright thought came into Genevieve's little head.

  "Where do you live?" she asked.

  "O, away down that lane, the other side of the village! I work nearlyall the time, some way or other."

  "Have you any father?"

  "Yes;" and Hepsa looked as though she did not love him better than sheloved Tom.

  "May I teach you to read?" asked Genevieve, looking into Hepsa's eyesentreatingly. The child turned away her head as she answered,

  "I haven't any time. I have to stay at home."

  "But," pursued Genevieve, "I'll come down to your house, and bring somebooks, and help you tend the baby. O! don't you love the baby?"

  "No! he is _too_ cross," was the crusty reply.

  "But, he is a baby; he don't know any better."

  "That don't make any difference."

  "Yes it does, too; your big brother knew better than to kill your prettypussy, and that is why it was so naughty in him to do it." This was anew kind of argument for Hepsa; but she thought over it a moment, andthen told her little teacher she thought she might be right. "I almostwish you would come to teach me to read. I don't know but I might likeit; and then it would be rather good to see you. Now, are you sure thereis such a person as God?" said Hepsa, glancing at Genevieve from thecorners of her eyes.

  "Of course I am, Hepsa; who do you think made the sky and the ground,the trees and grass?"

  "I don't know," replied Hepsa.

  "And the sun and the moon, and the stars," continued Genevieve, with amysterious tone. Hepsa shook her head by way of saying no.

  "And all the fathers and mothers and children?" at which question Hepsalooked _so_ perplexed.

  "I asked mother once," she said, musingly, "who made all these things;but she told me I'd better be minding the cradle. I guess she didn'tknow; but I've always had spells of wondering about it."

  Genevieve looked very gravely at Hepsa as she said,

  "It was God who made all these things."

  "Well, I don't know but it was," replied Hepsa.

  "But I _know_ it was; the Bible says so, and father and mother say so,too; beside, I feel it in my heart, when I see the sun and the flowers,and everything looks so pretty."

  "Do you?" cried Hepsa, seeming to feel a new interest in her companion."I wonder if you ever hear pretty voices in the trees when the windblows, and in the night when it is warm, and you are looking up to themoon, and see the light that comes down through the holes in the sky,does something great seem to come close to you?"

  "Why, yes, Hepsa, ever so many times, and I think it is God. And whenKatie leaves me to go to sleep, and it is all dark, I know God comesthen, for I feel him all around, and the room seems so big--bigger thanit ever did before, bigger than the garden, bigger than the fields,bigger than the sky. I can't tell you how big."

  "O, well--and--what did you say your name was?" asked Hepsa.

  "Genevieve;" and she pronounced it very slowly.

  "It is rather odd," said Hepsa, trying to repeat the name; "but I wantto know if you ever laid down on the ground when it rained, andlistened."

  "No!"

  "Well, it is real beautiful; in the grass, it sounds _like bells_--itsounds better where the grass is tall."

  "I wish I could hear it," said Genevieve, sadly; "but my mother wouldn'tlike to have me lie on the ground when it rained."

  "How would she know it," asked Hepsa, "if you didn't tell her?"

  "Why, Hepsa, I shouldn't want to if she wouldn't like it--I shouldn'twant to at all."

  "I suppose, then, she won't let you come to hear me read?"

  "O, yes she will, I know! I'll ask her, and she will kiss me, and sayyes."

  So Hepsa told her where she lived, and Genevieve went into the house,and Hepsa went home, feeling very happy about the flowers, and thinkingof the things her new friend had told her.

  "She says I must love Tom, and that is so queer; but if the God who gaveme Tom, is the One who comes so near to me sometimes, I'll try; and,perhaps, if I hadn't called Tom such names this morning, he wouldn'thave killed my poor cat." So Genevieve's words had sunk into Hepsa'sheart already.

  Genevieve went to her mother, and told her what a strange little girlshe had found that morning, and that she had promised to go and teachher to read, that she might know about God.

  GENEVIEVE READING THE BIBLE TO HEPSA.]

  On the next day she took some of her books, and, with some of herprettiest playthings for a present to Hepsa, she went in search ofthe house down the lane, on the other side of the village.

  She found a gentler pupil than on the day before; and Hepsa's hair waslaid smoothly upon her forehead, her face clean, and though there weresome tatters in her dress, Genevieve did not much mind them.

  The baby was in his cradle, fast asleep, and Genevieve went and kneltdown by the side of it, and looked at it carefully, as though she wasafraid of awaking it, and then whispered to Hepsa her admiration of thelittle hands, which lay cunningly upon the quilt, and said how much shewanted to kiss him; would he wake, she wondered, if she just kissed hischeek, and didn't make any noise? Hepsa told her no; so she kissed him;and then, after looking at him to see how sweetly he slept,--nowfrowning, and now smiling in his dreams,--she went away with Hepsa, andthey talked a great while together, telling each other what the otherdidn't know. Genevieve was often shocked and grieved at Hepsa'sundutiful remarks about her father, mother and brother; and when shefelt they didn't love Hepsa, as her own dear father and mother lovedher, still she could not understand why Hepsa did not love them better.She was often a good deal perplexed to know what she should say to thestrange child; but of one thing she felt always certain, that her newcompanion needed to have her heart cleansed and purified before shecould be loved well. She felt a strong love for Hepsa, and longed toteach her more of God, and show her how to read, that she might teachherself.

  Hepsa was amazed when her friend took out the playthings from the bagand gave them to her; no one had before shown her such kindness; andGenevieve thought in her heart she was just as happy giving those thingsto Hepsa, as when they were given to her.

  Poor Hepsa had never been to school, and so she didn't even know thealphabet; but Genevieve sat down patiently to teach her, and found trulythat much patience was necessary to accomplish the work she hadundertaken. Hepsa would soon grow discouraged when she found so much tolearn, and saw her little teacher reading so readily; and her motherwould often scold when she saw Hepsa with a book in her hand, declaringit was foolish nonsense; but, as time went on, and the firstdifficulties were overcome, and her mother began to find Hepsa growingvery gentle, and Tom had less occasion to plague his sister, they allfelt that the books Hepsa had studied, and the little girl who came sooften to see her, were kind friends, and love began to bind them alltogether. Hepsa no longer wore torn clothes; Genevieve's mother hadgiven her some neat dresses, and Genevieve had given her needles andthread, and taught her to sew, and now many a rent was carefully mended,and even Tom began to look neate
r than formerly. She was careful too tokeep the room nicely, and one day was amply rewarded for this, when Tomcame in before she had had time to do it, and complained of its beingdirty. "Tom begins to like a clean room," she said to herself with joy,and received his few harsh words as though they had been those of love.The baby too was always clean, for she knew Genevieve always dependedupon kissing him.

  Hepsa's father was not a good man; he was unkind to his poor wife andchildren; so it was no wonder Tom had gone on, following the exampleconstantly placed before him; but he was a child yet, and when he sawhow Hepsa began to love him, that she grieved without being angry whenhe was unkind to her, it could not but touch his heart. He was halfashamed, too, when she saved for him some of the good things Genevievehad brought her. At first, 't is true, he thought little about it, butwhen often, after he had been so ugly to her, she came just the same,and offered him half of her orange, or a part of her nuts, he began tofeel that he was a naughty boy, and that Hepsa was better than she usedto be.

  It was very natural he should ask her the reason of this, and verynatural, too, that she should answer in this way:

  "Why, Tom, I have learned a great deal about God from Genevieve, andthen she has taught me to read, and I have learned a great deal thatway. Tom, where do you think Susan went when she died?"

  Tom couldn't tell. Susan was an elder sister of theirs, whom they hadloved very dearly, and who had died some two years before.

  "Well, Tom; there are angels who take all the children, as soon as theydie, and show them wonderful things, and teach them, so they can go intoa beautiful place called heaven, and live with God. Well, if you beginto be good here, and love people, you will go into that heaven sooner,when you die, than if you are naughty, and don't think about thesethings while you are here. I want to go there very much, and so I try tobe good, though I don't always make out well." Tom looked thoughtful athis sister's words, and then said:

  "I think that little Genevieve will go very fast, when she dies. But Idon't think father will get there very soon, now I tell you!"

  "O, but Tom," said Hepsa sadly, "we must not think who will not go, buthow _we_ may go."

  "I wish I knew how to read," said Tom; "but I never can go to school,father makes me saw so much wood."

  Then Hepsa asked him to let her teach him; and, after a good deal ofhesitation, he told her he didn't care if she did.

  Some time after this, Genevieve's father and mother went away from thatplace, and she parted from Hepsa with many tears in her eyes, and muchgrief in her heart. "If I never see you again," she said, "don't forgetwe are both going into the gardens up there," and Hepsa alwaysremembered.

  Genevieve was a very quiet girl, but she was always ready to dosomething to please her dear mother, and at night brought her father'sslippers from the closet, and placed them ready by his chair. She did,too, many little things for the servants, who all loved her very dearly;so when, a few years afterwards, she fell sick, and nothing they coulddo for her was able to make her any better, but the doctor said she mustdie, they all wept very much, and no comfort or joy could come intotheir hearts. But Genevieve gently kissed them, and told them abeautiful peace had come into her heart, for that, in the night, Christoften came to her, and told her how the angel was all ready to take herinto his beautiful garden, and teach her out of his great golden books.

  At last, one morning she died, and they laid her away in the garden nearby the fountain; and they planted the mignonette and myrtle, that,mingling with the moss, it might grow over her grave.

  And her mother said in her heart, "Let her lie here, that, as often as Icome hither, I may be reminded of the more beautiful gardens of God, towhich she has flown. And when, in the cool night, the stars look down,the soft fragrance of the mignonette shall tell them of her loveliness,and the myrtle and the moss of the constant love twining together thesouls of the mother and the daughter."

  It was as Christ had said; the angel stood ready, and when Genevieveclosed her eyes in death, he caught her in his arms, and placed herbefore the Great Gate, which led into the gardens around the kingdom ofheaven. A great many men, women and children stood about it, waiting forit to be opened, when suddenly a very bright angel, brighter than anyshe had ever seen in her dreams, came among them, seated on gloriousclouds.

  Then one by one did the crowd go before him, telling him what thingsthey had done on earth, in order to be admitted into the gardens, to beprepared still more for the heavens. One said he had built a largecollege, given it a large sum of money, and called it by his name, thatthe world might see his works, and praise the Lord. Another told him howhe had toiled in heathen lands, and dwelt among savages, that they mightknow and love God; another that he had prophesied; another that he hadbuilt a hospital for the poor, and had sheltered them from the coldwinds; another still that he had delivered slaves from cruel masters,and brought them to the light of freedom. O, there cannot be counted allthe men and women who came before the angel, and told of the things theyhad accomplished! And, as the words came upon Genevieve, her hearttrembled for fear, and had it not been for the remembrance of those kindtones of Christ, poor Genevieve would have shrieked aloud.

  What should she do? Rapidly she recalled every act of her life; butnowhere in it could she find one act worthy to be brought before thegreat bright angel. Alas! she had neither founded colleges norhospitals; she had never toiled in heathen lands, nor prophesied, nordelivered slaves from bondage. Alas! must she lose those gardens whenstill so near?

  The angel's glance fell upon Genevieve, and she drooped down in fear;but what was her surprise when the angel came down from the cloud, andraising her up, said, in tones of loving cadence,

  "Look, little one, thy work was accepted long ago!" and, looking as hebade her, she saw Hepsa at her side, to whom, so long ago, she hadspoken of heaven, when she had found her a dirty, ignorant girl.

  "You have worked well," said the angel tenderly. "Go now into thegarden, and ere long I will come to put you into the Christ's arms."

  So Hepsa and Genevieve together walked through the gates, and the angelswho would be their teachers went with them; but I cannot tell you of thebeauty and glory of those scenes. I only beg you too to work well, thatthe angel may speak as lovingly to you.