Minnie Brown; or, The Gentle Girl

FRANCIS FORRESTER, ESQ.

Author of "Arthur Ellerslie," "Redbrook," etc.

Boston: Geo. C. Rand, 3 Cornhill. Wm. J. Reynolds & Co. 1853.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by Daniel Wise, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

Stereotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry. Press of G. C. Rand, Cornhill.

MINNIE BROWN.

Minnie Brown had not so handsome a face as some little girls; yet people called her a beautiful child. Her beauty was not in her eyes, her cheeks, her chin, her nose, her forehead, or her hair. These were all well enough; her face was pretty enough in its way, but it was no prettier than the faces of many other girls whom no one ever thought to be very beautiful. Still, almost all who knew Minnie spoke of her as a beautiful child. Why was this? What was there in Minnie to make people call her beautiful?

I will tell you. Minnie's mind was beautiful. She had a lovely spirit, a mild temper, and an obliging disposition. Minnie appeared to love every one. She was never angry, unkind, or rebellious. She almost always wore a pleasant smile on her rosy lips; a light of loving tenderness generally shone in her soft blue eyes. She always spoke in a gentle voice. Whoever looked upon her felt pleased at her appearance; and hence it was that she was called a beautiful child.

I do not mean to say that Minnie was faultless. There has never been but one faultless child in the world, and that was the sinless Child of Mary. But Minnie's faults were very few. Her natural disposition was very gentle, and she had learned to pray to Christ as her loving Savior and holy elder Brother. And thus, by studying to oppose all that was bad in her heart, by encouraging all that was good, and by expecting her Brother Savior in heaven to help her, she had become such a child as I have described.

But Minnie had many trials of her patience and goodness, like all other children. These troubles, however, did not set her crying and fretting as some girls do, when vexatious trials annoy them. Her mother had taught her that trials were for her good. Minnie always remembered this lesson, because of the way in which it was taught to her. It was by means of a little tree, which Minnie's father set out in front of their cottage, one spring, with great care. Mr. Brown was a man of taste. He spared no pains to make his residence a pleasant one. He meant this tree to grow into a shade tree; and a beautiful little tree it was. It was tall, slender, smooth, and had very graceful branches. Minnie admired it very much. She hoped it would live and become a great tree.

At first, it appeared as if it would do so. The buds swelled, the leaves began to show their green edges, and Minnie was looking every day to see them burst into beauty. But the weather grew very cold, wet, and windy. For more than a week, the sun refused to shine. The sky was as dreary, and the air as cold, as rough November. Minnie often looked out of the window at the little tree in the storm; and when it swayed to and fro, she said to her mother,--

"I hope that little tree will live, mother."

"I hope so, too, my child," replied Mrs. Brown.

But when the fine weather and sunshine returned, the tree gave signs of drooping.

"I think it will die," said Mr. Brown, one day, after examining its appearance.

"I hope not," said Minnie.

But the tree did die, and in a few weeks was fit for nothing but to be cut down and burned.

"What made it die, mother?" inquired Minnie, one day, as she was watching the men who were digging it up.

"It was not vigorous enough to endure the late storm. Your father took it from the middle of the woods because of its beauty. It had always been sheltered from the storm by other trees; and so it died when it was exposed without shelter."

"Would it have lived, if it had been grown on the edge of the woods, mother?"

"Probably it would. Had it always stood in the face of storms, it would have grown up hardier."

"Well, that's funny. I should never have thought of such a thing."

"Perhaps not," replied Mrs. Brown. "There are a vast many things you have yet to learn. In one respect you are like a young tree."

"Why, mother! How can I be like a young tree?" asked Minnie, with an air of surprise.

"Well, you need storms to blow on you while you are young, that you may be able to endure trouble when you are older."

"Storms, mother! What storms?"

"I mean trials, Minnie. When you are ill used by a schoolmate, and are tempted to be revengeful, you are tried as the tree is tried by a storm. If you remain patient and loving under the trial, you are benefited by it, and will be more likely to endure the next trial you meet. Thus all your little storms, or trials, will be for your good."

"What, always?"

"Yes, Minnie, always, if you act right under them."

"Was it for my good to be pushed into the pond by Ralph Rattler, mother?"

"If it has led you to exercise a spirit of forgiveness towards Ralph, it has done you good."

Minnie paused a moment, as if in deep thought. She was asking herself if she had really forgiven Ralph for pushing her into the pond at the risk of her life. She thought she had. A gush of feeling poured up from her heart. Her eyes filled with tears, and, looking lovingly into her mother's face, she said,--

"I do think, mother, that I have forgiven Ralph."

"That is right, my dear Minnie. And having done so, you are better prepared to suffer wrong patiently than you were before."

"But, mother," added Minnie, "I don't think I love Ralph quite so well as I do Arthur, who saved my life. Is that right?"

"I suppose you cannot help the preference you feel for Arthur, my child. He is a good boy. Ralph is not. Arthur loves his mother, and is the best boy in the village. Ralph is disobedient, proud, and unlovely. But while you thus prefer Arthur because of his better qualities, you must feel nothing but kindness and pity for wicked Ralph, and a desire to benefit him."

"That is just as I do feel, mother. But what's that?"

"I think I heard the door bell ring. Run and see, Minnie."

Minnie stepped quickly to the door. A little girl, named Lillia, stood on the threshold.

"How do you do, Lillia!" said Minnie.