Ella Clinton; or, By Their Fruits Ye Shall Know Them

"Your mother was right, Ella," said Miss Layton, "for unless you pray, you will certainly never grow any better. Jesus said, 'I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.' But come, my dear, it is getting late; you may put on your bonnet now, and get your books together, and we will go home."

"I'm glad you go my way, Miss Layton, so I don't have to go alone," said Ella.

"Don't you like to walk alone, Ella?"

"No, ma'am, I always want somebody to talk to."

Miss Layton locked the school-house door, and taking Ella's hand they walked slowly homewards.

"How long is it since your mother died, Ella?" asked Miss Layton.

"A whole year, Miss Layton. Oh it seems such a long, long while, and I do want to see her so much!"

"Your mother must have been a very good woman, I think, Ella."

"O yes, Miss Layton, she was so, very good! I never saw her do any thing wrong; but when I used to tell her so sometimes, she always said, no, she was not good, she was a miserable sinner."

"And she was quite right, Ella, for the best of mortals are in the sight of God but vile, polluted sinners. The Bible tells us 'they have all gone out of the way; there is none that doeth good, no not one.' But I trust your mother was a true Christian: one who loved God, and tried to serve him. She seems to have taken a great deal of pains with you, and I hope you remember her instructions. I hope you are a good girl at home, Ella."

Ella was wiping away her tears. She never could talk much of her mother without crying. "No, Miss Layton," said she, "aunt Prudence says I am the worst child she ever saw, and I know I'm very naughty; but it's no use to try to be good, for I can't do it. I used to be good when my mother was living, but I can't be good without her to help me."

"Ah, Ella, that is quite a mistake. Your mother could not make you good, if she were here, for she could have no power to change your heart, and make you hate the evil, and love the good. God alone can do that, and though your mother has been taken away from you, he is ever living, and ever present, and if you ask him for help – ask with your heart, and for Jesus' sake – he will hear and help you."

"But, Miss Layton, I was a pretty good girl when my mother was alive; even aunt Prudence says so."

"That may be so, but I think it was only because you had not so many temptations to do wrong. Your mother probably knew better how to manage you, and keep you out of the way of temptation, than your aunt does; but you had the same wicked heart then that you have now, and if you behaved well only because you had no temptation to do otherwise, you were not really any better than you are now. God looks not merely at the outward conduct, but at the heart, at the motives, and unless you do right from a desire to serve and honour him, he can see nothing good in you. Ask him, my dear child, to give you right feelings, and right motives, and to help you to perform every duty from an earnest desire to please him."

CHAPTER III

"You are waiting for me, are you, Ellie?" said Miss Layton, as she locked the school-room door, and turning to go, saw the little girl standing near, while her young companions were nearly all already out of sight.

"Yes, ma'am," replied Ella; "I would rather walk with you, if you will let me."

"Certainly, my dear child; I am always pleased to have your company. You have done well to-day, my dear little girl; your lessons were well recited, and your behaviour has been all that I could wish; and indeed, I might say almost as much of all the days since your bad day, which was nearly three weeks ago. I am very glad to be able to praise you."

Ella coloured with delight. "I have remembered what you said, Miss Layton," said she, "and as soon as I get home, I always take my books, and go away up stairs, where I can be quite alone, and study hard, until I am sure that I know my lessons perfectly, and it doesn't take nearly so long as I thought it would, and I have plenty of time to play afterwards. And I do think it is the best plan, Miss Layton; for sometimes we have company come in, in the evenings, and then I'm always so glad that my lessons are all done and out of the way."

"Yes, my dear, you will find, all through life, that it always is best to attend immediately to any duty you have to perform; you will never have cause to regret it. Duty first and pleasure after, is a very good motto for both children and grown up people."

"And I remember what you said about praying with my heart," said Ella, "and when I kneel down to say my prayers, I say the words slowly, and try to think of the meaning, and to really want what I ask for; and so I find it easy to be good, and now I think I have found out how, and that I shall be good always."

"Ah, my child," replied her teacher, "beware of self confidence. The Bible says, 'Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall.' I don't like to hear you talk of it being easy to be good, for I fear if you think it so easy, you will trust in your own strength, and forget to ask help of God, and then you will be sure to fall. Remember how sure Peter was, that he would never deny his Master, and yet how soon he committed that very sin.

"When we begin to trust in our own strength, God often leaves us to ourselves, and suffers us to fall, that we may learn that our own strength is perfect weakness. The Bible tells us that 'the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked,' and so true is this of the unrenewed heart, that we find it has naturally no love for what is good and holy, but, on the contrary, a constant inclination to that which is evil; so much so, that we cannot of ourselves resist any temptation to sin, or even so much as think a good thought; we are prone to do evil, and averse to what is good; our goodness is as the morning cloud and the early dew which vanisheth away. Our only safety, Ella, is in remembering our own weakness, and crying with David, 'Hold thou me up, and I shall be safe.' You know Paul says, 'When I am weak, then am I strong,' no doubt meaning, when I feel my own weakness and look to God for strength, he strengthens me."

"Miss Layton," said Ella, "it is a great deal easier to be good at school than at home; for you praise me when I am good, and seem pleased to see me trying to do right, but aunt Prudence never does. She says people don't deserve to be praised for doing their duty, and no matter how hard I try to please her, she always finds something to scold me for."

"I think your aunt is partly right and partly wrong," said Miss Layton. "It certainly is true, in one sense, that people don't deserve praise for doing only what it is their duty to do, but none of us would have many blessings if we received only what we deserve, and I think it is right and best to give praise because it encourages people in trying to do well. But, Ella, though it is quite right that you should desire to please your aunt, and your undoubted duty to do so, for she stands to you in the place of your parents, whom God has commanded you to honour, yet your highest motive should ever be to please God; and, though your aunt may not notice your efforts, you may rest assured that not one of your struggles to conquer your temper, or overcome your habits of carelessness and indolence, remains unnoticed by him."

"Well, Miss Layton, I haven't been in a real passion for more than two weeks, and I'm nearly sure I never will get into such a fit of rage, as aunt Prudence calls it, again."

"Ah, Ella, don't be too confident," replied her teacher.

"Oh I'm sure I won't, Miss Layton. I can't help getting a little angry sometimes, but I'm certain almost that I never will get so dreadfully angry as I used to, for I know it is so ugly, and so wicked."

Miss Layton shook her head doubtingly. "Time will show, Ella. Bad habits are not so easily got rid of. But good bye, child," she added, stooping and kissing the little girl's cheek, "you know you have to turn off here."

"Good bye, Miss Layton," said Ella, "I mean to have real good lessons to-morrow."

"Oh, Ella, how pretty your flowers are! won't you give me one?" exclaimed a little girl who overtook Ella just as she was passing down the lane which bounded that part of her aunt's grounds where her own little garden was situated. Ella was naturally a very generous child.

"Yes, a good many more than one, Lucy," said she, "if you will wait till I can get round to them, for you know the gate is round on the other side."

"Oh, I'm in a dreadful hurry, Ellie," replied Lucy, "Mother told me not to stop a minute, and I'm all out of breath with running. Can't you climb the fence?"

"Well, if you're in such a very great hurry I suppose I must for once, though aunt Prudence wouldn't like it very much; but then she always scolds me, and I guess she might about as well scold for one thing as another," said Ella, and as she spoke, she threw her satchel of books over, and then climbed the fence. In a moment she was on the other side, and had gathered a handful of flowers and reached them through the fence to Lucy, who still stood on the outside. Lucy ran on, and Ella picked up her satchel and walked into the house.

Now it happened that Miss Prudence was in an unusually bad humour. Everything had seemed to go wrong with her that day. A neighbour's boy had left the garden gate open, and before it was noticed some pigs had got in and destroyed a great many of her choicest vegetables and flowers, and while she and Sallie, her maid, were engaged in chasing them out, the cakes in the oven had nearly burnt to a cinder; and, to crown all, Sallie, flurried by the scolding of her mistress, had let fall and broken a much valued dish of old-fashioned china. In consequence of these various mishaps Miss Prudence was in one of her very worst humours, which is saying a good deal, as she was not at any time remarkably sweet-tempered.

"Your dress torn again, miss!" she exclaimed, the instant she caught sight of her niece. "You've been climbing fences again, hey?"

"I didn't know it was torn," said Ella, looking down. "Where, aunt Prudence? I don't see it."

"There! what do you call that?" said Miss Prudence, fiercely, taking hold of the skirt of Ella's dress, and showing a small slit torn in one of the breadths.

"Oh, that is only a little hole, aunt Prudence," said Ella.

"A little hole? Yes, but I'd like to know if you aren't always tearing your clothes, and if you'd torn it all the way round, it would have been all the same to you."

Ella's temper was rising, more from the tone than the words her aunt had used, "I ain't always tearing my clothes," said she, angrily, "you know I haven't torn one for a good while, and it's ever so long since I climbed a fence till to-day."

"How dare you contradict me, you impertinent little hussy!" said aunt Prudence, catching hold of her and shaking her violently, and boxing her ears, then pushing her from her with such violence as to throw her down.

"You're just the crossest woman in the world," exclaimed Ella, – now thoroughly roused as soon as she recovered her breath sufficiently to speak, "I don't care if I do tear my clothes! I don't care if I tear them all to pieces, and I shan't try to please you any more, for you're just as cross as you can be; you're always scolding me, and never praise me a bit when I try just as hard as I can to please you."

"Just walk right up stairs, and don't let me hear another word out of your mouth, or see your face again to-day," said aunt Prudence; "if I served you right I'd give you a good switching, and may be I'll do it yet; but just walk straight up stairs, and stay there; for not a mouthful of supper shall you have to-night."

"I won't!" said Ella, "I ain't going to be shut up in that hot room all the afternoon. I'll stay out of doors," and she ran out as she spoke.

"We'll soon see that," said aunt Prudence, "we'll soon see who's mistress," catching her by the arm and dragging her into the house. Ella resisted with all the strength of passion; but in vain; her aunt proved the stronger, and after a desperate battle succeeded in forcing her up stairs and into her own room, where she shut her in, and locked the door upon her, and then, putting the key in her pocket, walked down stairs; while Ella, mad with rage, assailed the door with a shower of kicks and blows, in the vain attempt to regain her liberty, at the same time screaming at the top of her voice.

At length, completely exhausted by her own violence, she desisted, and sitting down on the floor, she laid her head on a chair, and cried herself to sleep.

When Ella waked, the moon was shining in at the window, everything about the house was perfectly still, and feeling frightened at the silence, and chilly from the night wind, which had been blowing on her, she crept into bed without undressing, and soon fell asleep again.

It was long past her usual rising hour, when she waked again with a confused feeling that something was wrong. She lay quiet a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. Suddenly, she remembered her lessons; she had not looked at them. Instantly springing from the bed, she hastily washed her face, combed her hair, and smoothed her rumpled dress as well as she could, and then tried the door. It was fast; she was still a prisoner, and her satchel of books had been left in the hall below. What should she do? she tried the door again and again; she called aunt Prudence as loud as she could, but there was no answer, and sitting down on the floor, she cried bitterly.

In about half an hour, aunt Prudence came, and unlocking the door, ordered her niece to walk down stairs and eat her breakfast, which command Ella very gladly obeyed, as she was very hungry; but, troubled about her lessons, she hurried through her meal as fast as possible, and as soon as she had finished, requested permission of her aunt to leave the table, and get her books.

"No," replied Miss Prudence, sharply, "how often must I tell that it is very bad manners to leave the table until every one has finished? Just sit still and behave yourself; you'll not gain anything from me by that vulgar habit you have of eating so fast."

It was almost more than Ella could bear, to have to sit there and watch her aunt, who seemed to eat more slowly than she had ever known her to do before, when she knew that she had scarcely time to learn her lessons before the hour for school. At last, aunt Prudence pushed back her chair, and rose from the table; Ella rose too, and hurried into the hall to get her books.

"Come back here!" called out aunt Prudence. "What are you going to do?"

"I was just going to get my books, to learn my lessons."

"You'll do no such thing, till you've mended that dress. Get your thimble, and sit down here alongside of me, and darn it. If you will tear your clothes, I'm determined you shall mend them; and mind and do it well, or I'll make you pick every stitch of it out, and do it over."

Poor Ella was in despair. "O aunt Prudence," said she, bursting into tears, "I won't know my lessons, and Miss Layton will be so angry. Mayn't I learn them now, and mend my dress when I come home from school? Oh, do please let me."

"No; I tell you, you shall mend it just now. I don't care if Miss Layton is angry. I only hope she'll give you a right good whipping, for if you had behaved yourself last night, you might have had plenty of time to learn your lessons."

Ella wiped away her tears, and commenced her work, for she knew that crying was of no use, and would only hinder her from doing her work quickly and well. She took a great deal of pains, and was very careful not to make a single long stitch, and at last it was done, and very nicely too, she thought, but when she showed it to her aunt, she was told that it was puckered a little, and must all come out again.

"I can't do it a bit better, and I won't," said Ella, throwing the dress on the floor.

"You shall," said her aunt. "Pick up that dress this minute, and do as I bid you."

Ella neither moved to obey, nor answered a word.

"Sallie," called out Miss Prudence to the servant girl, who was in the next room washing up the breakfast dishes, "bring me a switch, till I make this child mind me."

"Yes, ma'am," replied Sallie; and the next minute she appeared at the door with a switch, which she had just cut from the willow tree in the yard.

"Pick up that dress," said Miss Prudence again, flourishing the switch. Ella stood still, mute and obstinate. Aunt Prudence seized her by the arm, and laid the switch over her shoulders with all her strength. Ella bore it without a word.

"Now, will you mind me?" again inquired her aunt, pausing for breath.

"No!" said Ella.

"You'll not go one step to school till you do," said her aunt.

"I don't care; I don't want to go, when I don't know my lessons."

"Then you shall go! Just take your bonnet, and start this minute. I'll make you do something I bid you," said her aunt.

Ella obeyed, only too glad to get rid of doing her work over again; though she had spoken truly in saying that she did not care to go to school without knowing her lessons.

"The most high-tempered, obstinate child that ever breathed," said aunt Prudence, turning away from the window, where she had been standing to watch Ella out of the gate.

"Now," said Ella, talking to herself, as she had a habit of doing, as she walked slowly along: "I can't get to school in time, and I'll be sure to get a bad mark for attendance anyhow, so I may just as well walk a little slower, and get my spelling lesson as I go along."

Ella had a very retentive memory, and was quite a good speller for a child of her age, and as the lesson happened to be an easy one, she had learned it quite perfectly by the time she had reached the school-house door. The opening exercises were quite over when Ella entered the room. Miss Layton looked up as she came in, and motioned to her to come to her.

"How has it happened that you are so late this morning, my child?" said she.

"I couldn't help it, Miss Layton; aunt Prudence made me stay to mend my dress."

"That is a sufficient excuse," replied her teacher, "I am very glad, Ella, that I can always believe what you say."

"I couldn't have got here quite in time, Miss Layton," said Ella, "but I might have come a little sooner if I hadn't walked slowly, so as to learn my spelling lesson on the way."

Miss Layton looked surprised, but made no remark, as it was now time to call a class. Ella recited her spelling lesson perfectly, but made several mistakes in her geography, which would indeed have been a total failure, as she had not looked at her lesson, if it had not been the day for reviewing that study, so that the lesson was one which she had learned only a short time before, and had not entirely forgotten. Grammar was the lesson she dreaded most, as she had only lately commenced the study, and often found it difficult to understand and commit it to memory. But that was not to be recited until after recess, and she determined to spend her playtime in studying it.

Accordingly when the bell tapped for recess, she took her book in her hand and slipped away to a corner of the play-ground where, concealed by some bushes, she thought she might remain unnoticed by her companions. But Ella was a favourite with most of her school-fellows, and it was not long ere she was missed, and "Where's Ella?" "Where's Ella?" "Didn't she come out?" "Do you know where she went to?" were the questions which passed from mouth to mouth amongst a group of girls who were preparing to commence a game of romps.

"What's the matter? what are you all talking about?" asked Sallie Barnes, coming up to them.

"We're going to play 'Chickeny-crany-crow,' and we want Ella to be the old witch, but we can't find her; do you know where she is?"

"Yes," said Sallie, "I saw her go behind those bushes. Come along girls, and let's see what she's about. Some mischief, I'll be bound."

Half a dozen girls started at once on a full run across the play-ground to the spot pointed out by Sallie.

"Why, Ellie, what are you doing here? why don't you come and play?" exclaimed Kate Townley pushing aside the bushes. "We want you this minute."

"I'm learning my grammar," replied Ella, without looking up from her book, "so don't talk to me, please, for I'm in a great hurry, because it comes right away after recess, you know."

"Getting your lesson! getting it now, when it's almost time to say it! I wonder if this is the pattern good girl, that always learns her lessons just as soon as she gets home, and never allows herself a bit of play till she knows them perfectly!" said Sallie, in a mocking tone.

"I do almost always, Sallie, but I didn't last night, and so please go away, and let me learn it now."

"Oh ho, now I remember this pattern girl missed quite a number of questions in her geography, and if it had been that naughty girl Sallie Barnes, she would have been kept in. Ah, it's a fine thing to be a favourite, a very nice thing to be the teacher's pet!"

"It's no such thing," said Ella, angrily, "you know very well that Miss Layton doesn't pet me; she treats us all alike."

"You're right, Ellie, so she does, at least according to the way we behave," said Mary Young.

"What a shame of you to talk so, Sallie! you know Ellie didn't miss more than two, and Miss Layton doesn't keep us in for that much," said Kate.

"Well I say she missed three or four," said Sallie, "and I'll be bound she'll miss more than that in the grammar, for I happen to know that it's pretty hard, and she'll be kept after school for that; and then I hope Miss Layton will give her as good a whipping as she did once before."

"She didn't; she never struck me in her life," said Ella.

"I know better; she did," said Sallie.

"That's a lie, and you know it is," said Ella, growing very angry.

"So I suppose you'll go and tell dear Miss Layton, that Sallie Barnes has been telling lies about you."

"No, I'll not," said Ella. "You know I won't, or you wouldn't dare to talk so. I don't tell lies nor tales either; I would not stoop to do anything so mean and wicked."

"So you mean to say I'm mean and wicked, a liar and a tell-tale! Never mind, miss, I'll pay you for your impudence, one of these days."

"I don't think your stories hang together very well, Sallie," said Mary Young. "First you say Miss Layton pets Ella, and then you say she whipped her for what I know she wouldn't whip any other scholar for."

Sallie was saved the necessity of replying, for at that instant the bell rang, and all hastened to the house.

"You have all recited very well excepting Ella," said Miss Layton, as she dismissed the grammar class to their seats. "Ella, you must learn this lesson over and recite it to me after school is dismissed."

"Ah, ha! I told you so!" whispered Sallie in Ella's ear.

Ella answered only with an angry look – it was against the rules to speak, but Sallie did not care for that, for though she would have been very ready to tell of Ella, she knew that Ella was much too honourable to tell tales of her. As soon as the others had all gone, Ella took her book to Miss Layton, and this time she recited her lesson quite perfectly.

"You know it very well, now," said her teacher, handing the book back to her. "What is it, my dear?" she asked, seeing the child hesitate. "Had you something to say to me? Don't be afraid to tell me all that is in your heart. If you are in trouble, perhaps I can help you, and if you have done wrong, I will not judge you harshly," she added, drawing the little girl towards her.

Ella threw her arms round her teacher's neck, and hiding her face on her shoulder, burst into tears. Miss Layton stroked her hair, and talked soothingly to her. Her heart yearned over the little motherless child, who had no one to love her.

"O Miss Layton, I can never, never be good. It's no use to try," sobbed the poor child.

"What new difficulty have you found, my darling? you told me it was very easy last night."

"I'm afraid you will hate me, Miss Layton, if I tell you how wicked I have been last night and this morning."