‘Twas Nellie’s birthday. “Six years old to day!”
She kept exclaiming, as with spirits gay
She went from room to room throughout the house,
Ofttimes as stealthy as a little mouse;
Then bursting into laughter, shook her curls,
As though she were the happiest of girls.
Said Nellie’s ma, “Now you may have today
Whatever friends you like to tea and play;
We’ll gladly welcome every one that comes.”
So Nellie counted fingers, counted thumbs,
And yet again re-counted, making twenty,
The sideboard seem’d the very land of plenty.
Such piles of cake and nuts, and sweets and fruit,
And many nick nacks that young people suit;
So Nellie sat her down to think awhile
Whom she should ask—then with a meaning smile,
Said, “Let “me see, there’s Flora Wilberforce,
And Frank her brother, they must come of course.
Then there’s the Spencers let me see, that’s four,
And Flossy Addington who lives next door.
I must ask her, for in a week or so
She has a party, and I’d like to go.
And Harry Latimer, and Cousin Mack
They’ll have to come to play with brother Jack.”
Thus Nellie counted up a good round sum
Of grand companions who should really come.
But while she sat amid her birthday cares,
The bell was rung for reading and for prayers.
For Nellie’s parents loved the precious name
Of Jesus, and they loved to teach the same
To all their children. So a cake was made,—
The family gathered while they read and prayed.
Now Nelly sat beside her father’s knee
As happy as a little child should be;
And to his reading seem’d to give her mind:
“When thou to give a dinner art inclined
Ask not thy neighbors who are grand and great,
Who can repay thee from their vast estate;
Nor wealthy kindred to thy feasts invite,
For they can ask again and thee requite.
But ask the poor, the sick, the lame, the blind,
And such unworthy ones as thou canst find.
They cannot pay again. If God’s thy trust,
Then, at the resurrection of the just,
Thy deeds shall be remembered. Thou shalt too
Know God is faithful, and His word is true.”
The book is closed—the father’s voice is heard
To ask a blessing on the Sacred Word.
‘Twas four o’clock, the dining-room was clear’d
For children’s play—but not a guest appear’d.
And where was Nellie? No one seem’d to know
Except the maid, who thought she saw her go
Across the pathway; but knew nothing more.
But hark! there is a knocking at the door!
A minute more, and in the grand old hall,
Where only wealthy folks were wont to call,
A motley crowd was seen, who shyly gazed.
The housemaid stood with both her hands upraised,
While Nellie stood amid her boys and girls,—
Some without shoes or caps, with matted curls
Uncomb’d, unwash’d, which she in love had sought,
And brought away from “Golden Pippin Court”
To grace her feast. When brother Jack came down,
He look’d upon the crowd with such a frown.
But ere her parents had a word to say,
“You gave me leave to choose my friends today;
You know, Mamma, this morning Father read
In God’s own Book, that when a feast was spread,
We were to ask the poor, the maim’d, and blind,
And so I thought I’d really try to find
The very poorest ones in Jesus’ name,—
You said you’d welcome every one that came!”
Ma kiss’d her Nellie—Pa could only smile;
The housemaid said they would her chairs defile.
The little Arabs gazed with wondering eyes
Upon the cakes, the biscuits, the tarts and pies,
Prepared for others; but it soon appear’d
They did them justice, for the plates were clear’d;
Though brother Jack declared he would not come
And shew his things to “Nellie’s wretched scum,”
He changed his mind, and shew’d his magic slides.
His box of tricks, and many things besides;
But in a little Pa surprised them more,
And much they listen’d to his wondrous store
Of tales of Jesus—narratives of love,
About the mansions in His home above.
A little cripple on her crutches lean’d,
And look’d so sunny—had her young heart glean’d
Some thoughts of heaven to light her little mind?
And next to Nellie, ragged, pale and blind,
But so attentive, stood a little boy,
In whose wan face there shone a gleam of joy,
While listening to the tale with much delight,
As though he saw the Lord with inward sight.
In simple language was the story told,
About the city with its street of gold,
Its wondrous gates of rich and lustrous pearl,
How every little ragged boy and girl
Should find an entrance if they only came
Through faith in Jesus and His precious name.
And though their souls were black as city mud,
They should be white as snow—wash’d in His blood.
O wondrous place, so dazzling and so bright;
With God’s own glory and the Lamb’s pure light,
What huge foundations, deck’d with precious stones,
Within whose walls are neither sighs nor groans.
While thus he spake, the wretched children thought,
“How different that from ‘Golden Pippin Court!’
Where all day long from women, men and boys,
‘Twas nothing else but drunkenness and noise.”
Jack, in one corner quietly aside,
Look’d grave. The housemaid in the other, cried;—
But said, while fumbling with her apron’s hem,
“I’ll gladly wait again on such as them,”
And Dick, who walks on hands instead of feet,
Or acts “the wheel for coppers in the street,
Looks on in wonder, silent as can be,
But shuts his eyes lest they his tears should see.
The seed was sown, and though, in tears,
The reaping-time would come in after years.
And many a precious truth those ears had caught.
Was heard that night in “Golden Pippin Court.”
While little Nellie in her simple way,
Beside her cot that night knelt down to pray;
She was so tired, but said in accents sweet,
“I thank you, Jesus, for my birthday treat!”