“IT’S unkind of mother!” exclaimed Lina, angrily.
“Hush, Lina,” said her grown-up friend, “your mother knows what is best.”
“But, M., you know I have been looking forward to go with the girls to the ‘Fields’ for several weeks, and now the day has come I’m disappointed.”
“I am very sorry, Lina, that you cannot go, but perhaps we may find another opportunity of going before the summer is over, and then you may be allowed to go with us. Do try, dear, and submit cheerfully to your mother’s wishes.”
“I can’t take disappointments pleasantly,” said Lina; “I feel that I am old enough to take care of myself. Why should mother be afraid to trust me out of her sight?”
“No doubt your mother has good reasons for denying you this pleasure, and really, Lina, you seem to forget that your mother loves you. Think of all her patience and care over you up to this time, and then see if you cannot give up something for her who has done so much for you.”
But Lina was angry, and would not listen to her friend’s words. It was a lovely afternoon, and Lina’s companions looked as bright as the sunshine as they started off accompanied by M. for a country ramble.
The happy party had scarcely left the town when quick footsteps were heard behind them. On looking back, Lina was seen hot and nearly breathless from long running.
“How is it that you’ve come, Lina?”
“I persuaded mother to let me come, and I am so glad.”
“I trust you will not have to be sorry for it,” said M., as they resumed their walk.
Those young people who live in close and busy streets will understand the delight of these girls as they walked amid the smiling hedgerows. Woodbine and wild roses were eagerly plucked by their busy fingers, and praises of their beauty came from their lips.
But, alas! their pleasure was soon spoiled. They had just seated M. on a fallen tree, and were having a game at “hide and seek,” when Lina’s voice was heard shouting, “Look, M., I’m going to jump from this fence,” and before a word could be said to prevent her, she had taken the leap, and was lying half-unconscious upon the grass.
“My leg is broken,” said Lina, when able to speak; “I wish I had listened to my mother’s wishes, then it would not have happened.”
All play was now over. Some of the girls ran to fetch water, others sat round with hearts and voices full of sympathy. But what was to be done? There they were at the foot of a steep hill, far away from any road, and the nearest cottage a long distance the other side of the hill.
“Take me home,” murmured Lina.
“We must carry you then,” said the girls.
But this was no easy task, for Lina was a tall, strong girl of thirteen. With great difficulty they got her to the top of the hill, and up to the cottage, where they found a kind woman, who bade them enter her little parlor. She fetched a strong man from a field near, who carried Lina to the nearest doctor, and she was for nine long weeks in a London hospital.
I am sure Lina will long remember the suffering she brought upon herself and other; through having her own wish gratified. She wrote many interesting letters to her young friends while in the hospital, and in most of them she spoke of the loving way that God was leading her, of His goodness to her and expressed great sorrow at her own wit-fullness. And I think, too, she began to understand that Scripture verse which says, “Children, obey your parents in all things: for this is well pleasing unto the Lord.”