Rensselaer Union, Volume 7, Number 47, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 August 1875 — TOT GOES TO CHURCH. [ARTICLE]

TOT GOES TO CHURCH.

BY MARY C. BARTLETT.

There was quite a commotion at “ Arthur Brown’s house” upon a certain Sunday morning. He and Agnes were going to take Tot to church. “ She will look as sweet as a pink in her new hat,” said Agnes,ecstatically, “Come here, Tot, and let me wash your face.” “ No,” answered Tot, with becoming gravity, “ Ith clean.” • “ o—h, what a 1 mean you’re very much mistaken. I can see everything you had for breakfast, Tot—almost.” Tot regarded this as a joke, and showed her small teeth approvingly. “ What can you thee P’ she inquired, curiously. “Oh, beafsteak and potatoes.” Tot laughed aloud. “ But I eated thome more. I eated five things more. What elthe can you thee ?” “ I can’t see anything else,” replied Agnes, waxing impatient. “ I haven’t time. You must come right straight here if you want to go to church.*’ Tot came. Agnes mixed the soap and water with a liberal hand. “Now, look out, Tot, shut your eyes.” But poor little Tot wasn’t quick enough. The blue eyes winked and blinked, then filled with tears.

“What made you put thoap in my eyeth, Agneth? My eyeth wathn’t dirty. ’ “I didn’t mean to,” said Agnes. “It went in itself. You must be very good now, and let me dress you. Arthur’s waiting.” “ Little girlth’ eyeth never get dirty,” remarked Tot, gravely. “ No, indeed. Here’s your dress. Put your arm in, quick, Tot.” “ Why don’t little girlth’ eyeth get dirty?” “Oh, because they don’t. Stand still now while I fasten these buttons.” Tot stood very still, looking delightfully conscious. “ What’ll they thay to thith, Agneth?” she inquired with a satisfied air- “ What’ll who say?” “The teacher, and—and all tile peopleth.” * “ It isn’t the teacher; it’s the minister,” replied Agnes. “ Aftdhe won’t say a word to you. Nobody will. You must sit still as a mouse, and j ust listen. That’s all you'll have to do.” “Aren’t you almost ready, Agnes,” called Arthur from the hall. “ The bell is ringing.” “ Coming, coming, coming,” cried Agnes in reply. “Wait just half a minute. Here’s your hat, Tot.” And “in “just half a minute the three children started, Agnes and Arthur bavjng each a hand of Tot, and looking supremely happy. “ Won’t the teacher, thay thomething when he thees me ?” asked Tot, incredulously. t “ No,” replied Arthur. “ Won’t he thay —not one thingle word ? ’’ “No,” answered Agnes; “and you mustn’t say a word, either.” “ Oh, Tot wouldn’t talk in church, I know,” said Arthur. “Only very little girls do that. You don’t want to say a word, do you, Tot?” “Yeth.” Agnes and Arthur looked at each other. Talking was the one thing which Tot generally did want to do. In season and out of season her little tongue was never at a loss for something to thay. The older children became anxious. “ Tot,” said Agnes, speaking very slowly and impressively, “you 1 inmt not say a word in church. Not one word. Everybody will look at you if you do. Do you hear?” “Yeth.” “If you’re very good, Tot, I’ll buy you a banana to-morrow,” said Arthur. “ You’ll like that, won’t you?” “ Yeth.” Arrived at the church-door, Tot’s sharp eyes spied a group of young girls chatting socially in the vestibule. “ They do talk, Agneth; thome girlth do talk. Look there.” “We’re not in church yet,” answered Agnes. “Here we com enow. Be very still.” t As golden-haired Tot walked up the broad aisle many eyes were fixed upon her. As the little maiden herself expressed it: “ The peopleth were glad she came;” and she herself seemed glad of it, too, if one might judge by the beaming smile which she bestowed upbn her many admirers. To Agnes’ great relief the services commenced at once. The playing of the organ, the singing of the thtanding up peopleth who composed the choir held Tot’s eyes and ears for a while, and when the “ teacher” prayed she listened to his deep, earnest tones, and looked round upon the Lowed congregation with a feeling in her little heart something akin to awe.

Then came the singing again, and she stood up and held her book with the best of them; her only indiscretion (?) being an almost audible question which quite disturbed Arthur’s equanimity. “If I should thing ‘Henny Penny, Ducky Lucky,’ what would they thay?” Agnes shook her head warmngly. 44 1 wathn’t going to thing it,” whispered Tot, in extenuation. The sermon was to the little lady a long, incomprehensible 44 talking,” in which the 44 teacher” seemed to have altogether to<*much to thay. She listened attentively for a few minutes, then the blue eyes wandered. Agnes watched them anxiously , hoping to see the long lashes droop a little, but no. Tot liaan’t the slightest idea of going to sleep. Suddenly the minister, warming with the earnestness of the subject, raised his voice. His manner became more im. pressive. He spoke of the sweetness of living upon God —partaking of His grace, as one partakes of daily bread, of the blessedness of those who, leaving happiness for duty, are surprised to find the former following in the latter’s wake, not as they wish, perhaps, but as God wishes, which is infinitely better. Tot’s eyes grew large as she listened. A lady in the next pew brushed away a teardrop furtively. The child knew perfectly well that the 44 teacher” had made her cry, but what it was all about she couldn’t divine. At last came a pause—one of those ptuses which meant so much. The minister’s eyes were fastened upon Tot, who was resting her tired little limbs by standing for a moment upon the seat

He looked as one who saw not, but Tot looked back at him as one who saw plainly. She smiled sweetly, but the grave face in the pulpit did not relax. It was singular (hat at this moment should come into her little head the recollection of a circumstance which had happened at home nearly three weeks before —a circumstance which had impressed her very much at (he time, but which had been totally forgotten since. Why it should occur to her now no man knoweth, It was oiie of the nnftcctontables- It‘did occur to her, at all ev«*ta,and j as t as the minister was about returning to his text a clear little voice piped outi “ When my mother wath taking down my nurthery book she found *a great , big thpider til the book-o&tfce.” in the stillness every word was distinctly audible. Agnes and Arthur, horibrstricken, hid their blushing faces, but Tot looked straight at the minister, and he looked straight at her. He mw her now. “ A great big thpi ” “ Hush, Tot!” whispered Arthur, with a little shake. As the minister looked into Tot’s innocent face his countenance changed. It was as if he had become suddenly conscious of the presence of one of the “ little ones” whom Jesus loved. “My dear little girl,” said he tenderly, “ you must sit very still now and listen to me. You shall tell me all about it by and by.” Tot subsided at once. She and the “ teacher” were. flrin friends now. She could wait. . Most of the congregation thought the rest of the sermon peculiarly impressive, and when at the close of the services the minister walked strait down to Tot’s pew and took her in his arms'you may be sure that spectators were not wanting. “ Now,” said.he, “tell me all about it,” But the child hid her face upon liis shoulder, and spoke not a word. “ Haven’t you any more stories to tell me?”

“Yeth,” replied Tot, soberly, “but I don’t know the retht.” “ Queer doings!” muttered Miss Primkins to her neighbor, as she walked out of church. “ How re-diculons for a minister to speak from the pulpit to a baby like that! Parson Potts would have made short work of it. He’d have called the sexton and had it carried out of church—if its parents hadn’t sense enough to do it themselves. He wouldn’t stand nothing of the kind.” “ But its parents were not there, and the child didn’t know any better,” was the kind-hearted reply. “Better keep it at home, then, till it learns. The minister won’t make any friends by such performances, I can tell him that.” But Miss Primkins was mistaken. The minister had already made a friend whose love was by no means to be despised. It was Tot, who said complacently to her brother, as they walked home: “ I like that teacher. He’th a good teacher. Next Thnnday I’ll go right up into that big bracket and kith him.” “ That depends,” was Arthur’s sententious reply. “I don’t believe you know what a naughty girl you’ve been, Tot,” said Agnes, severely. ‘ - “Too naughty for bananath?” asked Tot, anxiously. “ I think I shall have to buy you one this time,” replied Arthur; “that is, if you are very sure you can be good next time.” Tot thought she could. She thinks so still, aud begs hard every Sunday to be allowed to go and " hear the teacher talk.” It has been decided, however, to defer the second going until mamma is able to accompany her. So poor Tot’s “ next time” has not come yet. —Christian Union.