THE BUSTLING WAY, AND THE QUIET THERE are some people who do very little good, even when they wish to be of use to others, because they make so much bustle about every thing they undertake. Jane Riddell is one of these bustling characters. She is always ready and willing to help her mother, whom she loves very much, and to whom she is always obedient; but she makes so much noise and talk about any little thing she has to do, that one would rather do it ten times over, than be present when she is doing it. "Mother! said Jane one morning, when she sat reading; "mother, mother!" calling several times before her mother had time to look up. Jane ought not to have interrupted her mother while she was reading, unless on some very important occasion, which, in the present case, it was not. "Mother, mother! I want to know if I may go and put the back parlour to rights." "Yes, you may," said her mother, going on with her reading. ،، Well ! mother, mother!" "What now, Jane?" "May I take down all the books from the shelves, and put them up better?" "Yes, you may; but do not talk to me now, because I am engaged.' Jane went to work, making a great noise in taking down and putting up the books. Instead of clearing one shelf at a time, and filling each one before she cleared the next, she took down all the books at once; and as she stood on a chair to replace them, she must needs jump down for each parcel as she set them up again. "Oh, Jane," her mother would now and then exclaim, as the volumes came tumbling upon the floor, "do be a little more careful, and try to make less noise." But for Jane to do so was out of the question. "Then, mother, just come and see how much better that looks," she would say, each time she had filled a shelf. If her mother did not attend at once, she would go on calling "Mother, mother!" until, at last, becoming quite tired of being interrupted, her mother bade her leave the room as it was, and sit down to her sewing. Jane felt mortified at the reproof thus conveyed, and could scarcely repress her tears, as she prepared to obey the direction. "Why, what is the matter, Jane?" said her mother, laying down her book, and perceiving Jane's sorrowful looks. 66 Why, mother," she answered, "I was putting the bookshelves to rights as well as I could, when you spoke to me, and I was going" "Well, you did them very well, and I should have been glad you had finished them; but you made so much bustle about it, and talked so much, I could not go on with my reading. I have never spoken to you particularly about this fault; but it is one you may easily overcome. "You are a very lively, active little girl, and I should be sorry if you were indolent and dull; but when you have any thing to do, I wish you to do it with as little noise and bustle as possible. "Now I will show you the difference between the bustling way and the quiet way of doing 14 THE BUSTLING AND THE QUIET WAYS. things." One edge of the hearth-rug was turned under, and Jane's mother walked to the fireplace, stooped down to the rug, and with one or two strokes of her hand, spread it even, and smoothed out the fringe. There, that is the quiet way: now I will show you the bustling way." Her mother then hurried to the fireplace, pulled away the chairs that stood near, rattled the shovel and tongs, then turned over the rug in such a manner as to cause a great puff of smoke and dust from the fire; and then, in the same parading style, spread the rug down again. "That is the bustling way of doing it," said her mother. "Now I will show you how wrong it is for persons to talk and disturb others while they are engaged. Let us suppose that you have lost your thimble, and that I am going to look after it for you.' She then pretended to be looking for the thimble. "6 Why, Jane," said she, hastily turning over the things upon the table, "where do you suppose your thimble can be? Surely, Susan must have mislaid it when she swept the parlour. I wish she was not such a careless girl." She then went on to another part of the room, and looked under the sofa, continuing all the while to talk. "Why, Jane, perhaps you left your thimble up stairs; did you not? Jane-Jane-Jane, shall I go up and see?' Jane stood laughing to see her mother acting in this strange way. "You think it odd for me to act in such a manner," said her mother; "but it is quite as improper in a little girl like you. Now," she continued, "I wish you to learn the quiet way of doing things, and then you will be much more useful to me than you are at present; for very often, when there is something you could do, I say, "No, I will do it myself; for Jane will have so much to say, and will make such a parade about it, that she will cause me more trouble than she can save." Jane had many opportunities throughout the day of practising her new lesson, and she felt amply repaid by her mother's smile and approving looks; and resolved ever afterwards to try the quiet way in preference to the bustling way. ABBOTT'S REader. THE ORPHAN. "I SAW a little lamb to-day, It felt no sorrow, pain, or fear, "Sweet little lamb, you cannot know Were you like me, what could you do My clothes are thin, my food is poor, "I had a mother once like you, She cherished me, and loved me too, Now sorrowful, and full of care, I'm lone and weary everywhere. 66 I must not weep and break my heart; They say such sorrows never come 'Twas thus a little orphan sung, T. HASTINGS. GOD IS GOOD. "God is good!" Each perfumed flower, The smiling fields, and dark green wood; The insect fluttering for an hour; 66 All things proclaim that God is good." I hear it in the rushing wind; Hills that have for ages stood, Each little rill, that many a year Countless hosts of burning stars, |