Beautiful Joe [59]
will go a little deeper, and touch them
so much, that when they are grown up and go out in the world, they will carry
with them lessons of love and good-will to men.
"A little child is such a tender thing. You can bend it anyway you like.
Speaking of this heart education of children, as set over against mind
education, I see that many school-teachers say that there is nothing better than
to give them lessons on kindness to animals. Children who are taught to love and
protect dumb creature, will be kind to their fellow-men when they grow up."
I was very much pleased with this talk between Mrs. Wood and Miss Laura, and
kept close to them so that I would not miss a word.
As we went along, houses began to appear here and there, set back from the road
among the trees. Soon they got quite close together, and I saw some shops.
This was the village of Riverdale, and nearly all the buildings were along this
winding street. The river was away back of the village. We had already driven
there several times.
We passed the school on our way. It was a square, white building, standing in
the middle of a large yard. Boys and girls, with their arms full of books, were
hurrying down the steps and coming into the street. Two quite big boys came
behind us, and Mrs. Wood turned around and spoke to them, and asked if they were
going to the Band of Mercy.
"Oh, yes, ma'am," said the younger one "I've got a recitation, don't you
remember?"
"Yes, yes; excuse me for forgetting," said Mrs. Wood, with her jolly laugh. "And
here are Dolly, and Jennie, and Martha," she went on, as some little girls came
running out of a house that we were passing.
The little girls joined us and looked so hard at my head and stump of a tail,
and my fine collar, that I felt quite shy, and walked with my head against Miss
Laura's dress.
She stooped down and patted me, and then I felt as if I didn't care how much
they stared. Miss Laura never forgot me. No matter how earnestly she was
talking, or playing a game, or doing anything, she always stopped occasionally
to give me word or look, to show that she knew I was near.
Mrs. Wood paused in front of a building on the main street. A great many boys
and girls were going in, and we went with them. We found ourselves in a large
room, with a platform at one end of it. There were some chairs on this platform
and a small table.
A boy stood by this table with his hand on a bell. Presently he rang it, and
then every one kept still. Mrs. Wood whispered to Miss Laura that this boy was
the president of the band, and the young man with the pale face and curly hair
who sat in front of him was Mr. Maxwell, the artist's son, who had formed this
Band of Mercy.
The lad who presided had a ringing, pleasant voice. He said they would begin
their meeting by singing a hymn. There was an organ near the platform and a
young girl played on it, while all the other boys and girls stood up, and sang
very sweetly and clearly.
After they had sung the hymn, the president asked for the report of their last
meeting.
A little girl, blushing and hanging her head, came forward, and read what was
written on a paper that she held in her hand.
The president made some remarks after she had finished, and then every one had
to vote. It was just like a meeting of grown people, and I was surprised to see
how good those children were. They did not frolic nor laugh, but all seemed
sober and listened attentively.
After the voting was over, the president called upon John Turner to give a
recitation This was the boy whom we saw on the way there. He walked up to the
platform, made a bow, and said that he had learned two stories for his
recitation, out of the paper, "Dumb Animals." One story was about a horse, and
the other was about a dog, and he thought that they were two of the best animal
stories on record. He would tell the horse story first.
"A man in Missouri had to go to Nebraska to see about some land. He went on
horseback, on a horse
so much, that when they are grown up and go out in the world, they will carry
with them lessons of love and good-will to men.
"A little child is such a tender thing. You can bend it anyway you like.
Speaking of this heart education of children, as set over against mind
education, I see that many school-teachers say that there is nothing better than
to give them lessons on kindness to animals. Children who are taught to love and
protect dumb creature, will be kind to their fellow-men when they grow up."
I was very much pleased with this talk between Mrs. Wood and Miss Laura, and
kept close to them so that I would not miss a word.
As we went along, houses began to appear here and there, set back from the road
among the trees. Soon they got quite close together, and I saw some shops.
This was the village of Riverdale, and nearly all the buildings were along this
winding street. The river was away back of the village. We had already driven
there several times.
We passed the school on our way. It was a square, white building, standing in
the middle of a large yard. Boys and girls, with their arms full of books, were
hurrying down the steps and coming into the street. Two quite big boys came
behind us, and Mrs. Wood turned around and spoke to them, and asked if they were
going to the Band of Mercy.
"Oh, yes, ma'am," said the younger one "I've got a recitation, don't you
remember?"
"Yes, yes; excuse me for forgetting," said Mrs. Wood, with her jolly laugh. "And
here are Dolly, and Jennie, and Martha," she went on, as some little girls came
running out of a house that we were passing.
The little girls joined us and looked so hard at my head and stump of a tail,
and my fine collar, that I felt quite shy, and walked with my head against Miss
Laura's dress.
She stooped down and patted me, and then I felt as if I didn't care how much
they stared. Miss Laura never forgot me. No matter how earnestly she was
talking, or playing a game, or doing anything, she always stopped occasionally
to give me word or look, to show that she knew I was near.
Mrs. Wood paused in front of a building on the main street. A great many boys
and girls were going in, and we went with them. We found ourselves in a large
room, with a platform at one end of it. There were some chairs on this platform
and a small table.
A boy stood by this table with his hand on a bell. Presently he rang it, and
then every one kept still. Mrs. Wood whispered to Miss Laura that this boy was
the president of the band, and the young man with the pale face and curly hair
who sat in front of him was Mr. Maxwell, the artist's son, who had formed this
Band of Mercy.
The lad who presided had a ringing, pleasant voice. He said they would begin
their meeting by singing a hymn. There was an organ near the platform and a
young girl played on it, while all the other boys and girls stood up, and sang
very sweetly and clearly.
After they had sung the hymn, the president asked for the report of their last
meeting.
A little girl, blushing and hanging her head, came forward, and read what was
written on a paper that she held in her hand.
The president made some remarks after she had finished, and then every one had
to vote. It was just like a meeting of grown people, and I was surprised to see
how good those children were. They did not frolic nor laugh, but all seemed
sober and listened attentively.
After the voting was over, the president called upon John Turner to give a
recitation This was the boy whom we saw on the way there. He walked up to the
platform, made a bow, and said that he had learned two stories for his
recitation, out of the paper, "Dumb Animals." One story was about a horse, and
the other was about a dog, and he thought that they were two of the best animal
stories on record. He would tell the horse story first.
"A man in Missouri had to go to Nebraska to see about some land. He went on
horseback, on a horse