“I AM glad to have you here, Hetty," said Mr. Austen, as they sat over the fire the evening after their arrival at Hollingdale. "I do not know what I should do without you. But how your mother will miss you!”
“Yes," said Hetty, with a little sigh. "But then, you know, Mr. Austen, she has papa and Alfy, and you have no one.”
“And how do you suppose you are going to amuse yourself here, Hetty, with no companions of your own age?”
“Oh," said Hetty, with a laugh; "I shall have heaps to do, I shall write a long letter to mamma every week and tell her everything, and I shall go for long walks, and practice, and draw, and then there's my wool-work, too.”
“Why truly, Hetty, that is a long list. I am afraid you will not find time to do a little work that I was thinking of giving you.
“Oh, Mr. Austen, of course I can. What is it?”
“Well, my child, do you know the hymn that tells us that—
‘Hearts are bruised and dead,
And homes are bare and cold,
And lambs for whom the Shepherd bled,
Are straying from the fold.
To comfort and to bless,
To find a balm for woe,
To tend the lone and fatherless
Is angel's work below.’
“Would you like some of this work, Hetty?”
“But could I, Mr. Austen? I'm so young.”
“Not too young, Hetty.
‘No matter if young, or unskilled, or unlearned;
No matter if feeble, unknown, or obscure,
If only the heart be to heaven upturned,
The work shall be blest and the winning be sure.’
And then, my child, there is always One ready to speak to you that you may speak to others, to teach you that you may teach, if you will only sit at His feet.
‘Back to Thy feet, Lord, back to Thy feet.
I have run that message for Thee:
I have tried to tell of Thy dying love,
To teach of the glorious home above;
O, Master, now teach me.;’”
“But what can I do, Mr. Austen?”
‘If among the older people
You may not be apt to teach,
‘Feed my lambs,' said Christ our Shepherd,
Place the food within their reach.
And it may be that the children
You have led with trembling hand,
Will be found among His jewels
When you reach the better land.
Let none hear you idly saying,
‘There is nothing I can do,'
While the souls of men are dying,
And the Master calls for you.
Take the task He gives you gladly,
Let His work your pleasure be;
Answer quickly when He calleth,
'Here am I, send me, send me.'”
“Will you answer so, Hetty? Will you take the task He gives you?”
“Yes, Mr. Austen.”
“That's right, my dear. Then I will arrange a little class at the Sunday-school to-morrow, and you can begin at once. And next week you shall go with me to see some of my poor people, and I dare say we shall find some who would be very glad to have you read the Bible to them now and then.”
“It is a great privilege to be called to work so early in God's harvest," said Mr. Austen, as next morning they started for the Sunday-school.
“Only think, child, He has given you a little corner of His harvest field to work in. The world is the harvest field, and a noble band of men and women are laboring in it. But they are nothing when we think of the work to be done.
“Oh! how great is the need that we should remember our Lord's injunction, and pray to the Lord of the harvest that He would send laborers into His harvest. To every laborer God assigns his place.
“Some He sends to Africa, some to India, others to America, China, or Japan. To some He gives large fields of labor, to others small.
“And now to you He gives this little corner in the Sunday-school. Maybe God will not give you the reaping. The sowing may be all He calls upon you to do, but remember that—
‘Sown in the darkness, or sown in the light,
Sown in our weakness, or sown in our might:
Gathered in time or eternity,
Sure, ah! sure, will the harvest be.'”
It was with a beating heart that Hetty entered the Sunday-school. A minute before she had been rejoicing that God had called her to be a worker for Him, and now she felt half inclined to go back, so nervous she felt as she followed Mr. Austen up the room.
But it was only for a minute. "How stupid I was to be frightened," she thought, as she took her place before a low form, where sat some six or seven little fellows. They did not look at all formidable, and she was soon quite at her ease, asking their names, and setting them to look over their verses.
Singing and prayer being over, Hetty commenced her lesson; and Mr. Austen, from the other end of the room, looking across at her from time to time, noticed how eagerly the little boys were listening to her, and how quiet she was keeping them.
That was only the beginning of many a happy Sunday for Hetty Lynden. How she enjoyed those Sunday morning walks to the school with her aged friend. How his loving words of counsel sank deeply into her young heart, and what a pleasure and joy her Sunday-school class was.
How she got to love the little fellows, who seemed so pleased to see "teacher," and who were so good and obedient to her.
The weeks went by very rapidly to Hetty, every day was so full of occupation that she hardly knew how time went. So when at last the summons came for her to return home, she was quite taken by surprise.
“I wish I needn't go," she said, looking up from her mother's letter.
“Need not go home?" asked Mr. Austen, in surprise. "Surely, my dear, you will be pleased to see your father and mother.”
“Oh, yes, I did not mean that. But mamma says she wishes me to go and stay with my aunt on my way back.”
“Why should you dislike this visit, Hetty?”
“Well, you see," said Hetty, "Aunt Howard is very strict. She has an orphanage, and she is so cross to the girls sometimes. My cousin Edith told me how things were always going wrong, and every one was blamed for what was not their fault. And I wish I was not going," ended Hetty with a sigh.
“I shall be sorry to lose you, my child, but perhaps, Hetty, the dear Lord has some little work for you to do for Him there.
“Remember it is only another corner is the same harvest field. There may be some poor little desolate heart to be comforted, and God has chosen you to do it. Let us ask God to ‘show you what He would have you do,' and also to give you ‘grace and power faithfully to fulfill the same.'”