Читать книгу The Broken Vase, and Other Stories: for Children and Youth - Anonymous - Страница 3

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"Don't shake the table so, Frank," said Mrs. Mervyn to her little son, a pretty blue-eyed boy, about six years old, who was building houses of small blocks on the same table where she was arranging flowers in a very beautiful China Vase. Little Frank rose and removed his blocks to another table, where he could build and throw down his castles without disturbing any one. Mrs. Mervyn was pleased with his ready obedience, and gave him a book of colored pictures to look at, while she continued to arrange her flowers. A few moments after, she was called out of the room, but before she went, she cautioned Frank not to touch the vase, and told him to remain where he was until she returned. The little boy promised, and continued for some time busily engaged with his blocks and pictures; but at length, growing tired of his playthings, he threw them down, and walked to the open window. It was a lovely afternoon; the sun was shining bright, and the birds were singing gaily in the trees. He thought how delightful it would be to go out in the garden and chase butterflies, or to sail his little boat in the pond, and he longed for his mother to return; but still she came not, and the little boy wandered listlessly round the room in search of amusement. He took up his picture-book, and turned over a few leaves; but he thought of his rabbits, and threw it down. He remembered he had not fed, or even seen the little animals that whole day; so he went to the door, and listened for the sound of his mother's footsteps,--but no--all was still. He walked again to the window; after a few moments, he saw a beautiful butterfly winging its way towards him; it alighted on a lovely rose, within a few feet of the window. In an instant, Frank forgot his mother's commands. He turned to seize his straw hat that lay on the table; but, in his eagerness, his arm brushed past the vase, and it fell to the floor! Poor Frank stood speechless with fright,--there lay his mother's elegant vase, that she so much valued as a present from her mother! The butterfly, the innocent cause of all this mischief, was forgotten. At this moment, Mrs. Mervyn entered the room. She instantly saw what had happened, for Frank still retained his hat. "My vase,--my poor vase!" she exclaimed, the tears starting to her eyes, as she knelt to gather up the fragments. "It was not me, mother," stammered Frank; "It must have been pussy." Mrs. Mervyn looked up at her little son,--he trembled violently, and the blood mounted to his forehead. "Is this true, Frank?" she asked. He made no answer, and as a servant entered at that moment to assist Mrs. Mervyn, he ran out of the room. His mother observed him, but, preferring that he would confess his fault, allowed him to depart unnoticed.

In an unfrequented corner of the garden, was an old summer-house, falling to decay. Thither Frank bent his steps; it was a favorite spot of his, for it was cool and shady. The sides were covered with vines, in all their native luxuriance, and the old gardener, knowing that his little master loved this spot, had trained them over the broken windows, and placed many little conveniences inside for him. It was quiet and still, for no sound could be heard save the hum of insects, and now and then the note of a bird.

Frank, hurried along the gravel walk, and, pushing aside the overhanging vines at the entrance, threw himself on a low seat, and, covering his face with his hands, burst into tears. He wept bitterly. He thought of nothing but that he had told a lie! and to his dear, kind mother. She would have forgiven him for breaking the vase, for that was an accident. But what would she say, when she knew that he had told a falsehood to conceal his fault? Why did he not confess it at once? For a long time he sobbed and wept piteously,--but after a while a sweet calm stole over him, only broken now and then by short convulsive sobs, and then gentle "sleep slid into his soul," and, for a moment, his sorrows were forgotten. And then he dreamed. He thought he was again weeping in the old summer-house, and then the same gentle calm came over him. He continued for a long time in this state, when he saw a shadowy being approaching him. As she came nearer, her figure became more distinct , and he saw that she looked very mournful, and she wore a band round her head, and on this was embroidered her name, Reflection. As she approached him, the boy leaned his head on his folded arms, and fell into a deep revery. But still he thought he saw her distinctly in his mind's eye, and he saw she was followed by a shadowy train, so shadowy that it seemed if he breathed on them they would melt away. The foremost gradually grew more defined, and he saw her name was Memory. She hovered over him, and he felt her presence, though he could see her no longer. She assisted Reflection in recalling to his mind the fault that he had committed. While Reflection bade him meditate upon it, Memory whispered to him of his mother,--how kind she had always been,--how much she loved him,--how she had taught him to hate a falsehood,--how she had watched over him when an infant, and prayed for him! Again he burst into tears, and exclaimed, "Oh! how sorry, how sorry I am!" As he spoke, he thought he saw at his feet a pale, sorrowful looking spirit, with eyes tearful as his own. On her forehead was stamped Repentance.--She did not try to soothe him; but when Memory recalled his fault, she wept with him, and besought him to return to his mother, and tell her the whole truth. But then Reflection whispered, "Will not thy mother be angry, instead of grieved, when she knows you have told a cowardly falsehood?" And then, Fear, (another of Reflection's train) crept into the boy's heart, and whispered, "Yes, yes,"--and then she pictured to him his mother frowning upon him,--she who had never looked upon him but with kindness and love, and he shrank from acknowledging the truth. Repentance began to melt into mist, and Deceit came to the assistance of Fear, and bade him still deny the accident, while Fear told him he would he punished, if he avowed it,--and though Memory recalled to him his mother's goodness again and again, he was still under the dominion of Fear, and Repentance had almost vanished. Deceit still whispered him to deceive, and Fear seconded her, and spoke of punishment. But Frank's heart could not harbor Deceit, and he recalled Repentance to his bosom. At the re-appearance of this good spirit, Deceit fled, and the little boy grieved that he had suffered her to remain, and rebuked Reflection for introducing this, her wicked follower. Repentance still besought him to look upon Truth, the beautiful spirit of Truth, and bade him take Courage, and drive Fear from his heart; for, said she, "Fear and Deceit are companions, but Courage is the friend of Truth." The boy smiled, and Fear, feeling that her influence was fast diminishing, was on the point of giving him another warning, when Frank felt the approach of another spirit , and heard her say, in a low tone, "Repent, and thou shall be forgiven." Fear instantly vanished, and Courage usurped her place, and whispered Hope! Then he thought that Repentance took him by the hand and led him to the feet of Truth. He knelt and kissed the hem of her spotless garment, and looked up in her glorious face. She smiled upon him and he felt happy. Then Truth and Repentance took him by the hand and led him to his mother, who pressed him to her bosom and forgave him,--and, filled with a sense of unspeakable happiness, he awoke! He started to his feet, and was about to leave the summer-house to seek his mother, but, turning round, he saw Mrs. Mervyn standing in the same place he had fancied he had seen the beautiful spirit of Truth. He had been absent so long she had come to seek him, and thinking he might have gone to his favorite retreat, she had bent her steps thither, and there she found him, his head resting on his folded arms, in deep sleep. She saw his cheeks were wet with tears, and she threw herself down beside him and listened to his quiet breathing, only now and then broken by a convulsive sob. She lay there for some time, but at length finding that he was awakening, she arose and stood at a short distance, wishing to see what he would do. But Fear had entirely vanished from the heart of little Frank, and he sprung forward, and, throwing himself in his mother's arms, begged to be forgiven, Mrs. Mervyn pressed him to her bosom and kissed his pale cheek; then, taking him on her knee, she told him how grieved she had been to find her little boy could deceive her. The tears again started to poor Frank's eyes, and, leaning his head on her shoulder, he told her all,--how he had broken the vase, and how very, very sorry he was that he attempted to conceal it; and then he related his dream and all the doubts and fears Reflection gave rise to; he dwelt long on the beautiful appearance of the spirit of Truth; her glorious countenance had made a deep impression on his mind. His mother smiled, and, kissing him tenderly, bade him always to cherish Truth. She then explained to him his dream, and talked gently and soothingly to him until long after the sun went down, but the shades of evening beginning to gather round, soon warned them of the lateness of the hour. She then rose, and led her little repentant and now happy boy into the house.