Fabiola : or, The church of the catacombs - Digital Repository Services

autiful
nnd so free from care. What thoj
said -he im: ll; thai I hey would provide licr with
i in nccil of she folt sure, or rather, it would be more
:y
th;il the thought Unit it rould lie otherwise iR-vcr
I her mind, ami so she lived on happy and content, n'nd-
:iml Catlieriiic all she desired.
When spring eanic she loved to gather the sweet-scented violets
grew in the shady lanes, and to fill her little apron -with
primroses and cowslips, which she brought home to adorn their
9. The meadow at the back of the house belonged to a
pood natured neighbor, who allowed the little trespasser to wander
t here in search of flowers. By the stream she plucked the large
pale-blue forget mc-not; or, in the summer months, would return
home in triumph with a bunch of yellow water-ins.
The little garden m front of the cottage was one of her chief
delights; it was situated on the sunny slope which intervened be
tween the dwelling and the road, and although very small, was
well stocked with common hardy plants, such as theu adorned
gardens, when jlmri m reigned supreme, and folutrje plants were
unthought of. It was a he says:
spot such as Shakespeare deeribes when
' I know a bank whore the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlipw and the nodding violets grows;
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet niusk-roses, and with eglantine.'
The care of this fragrant garden had been intrusted to Barbara,
and in it she would labor with childish gravity; now trying to
keep the trailing woodbine within bounds, then pulling up a
weed which had intruded itself among the flowers; or she would
carefully tie up the 'sweet musk-roses,' and draw back the wayward
shoots that would push through the hedge and peep on to
the road, which view of the world did not improve their appearance;
for when their little mistress had drawn them in again she
generally found that their green glossy leaves were covered with
dust, or had trailed in the mud, or a goat passing that way had
made a meal off the tender shoots.
'
I think, Barbara,' Catherine used to say to her, 'that the
branches of your rose-trees are like foolish children that wander
from their parents' home, and meet with many mishaps which
would not have befallen them had they remained and done their
duties as becomes good children.'
'/will never wander from you, sister Kate, and granddame,'
the child would reply.
Catherine took pleasure in making her young pupil see in the
flowers emblems of higher things, thus, one morning Barbara
called her to see a beautiful white convolvulus which had just
unfolded its snowy blossom. After having duly admired it,
'
Knowest thou, little sister, what that flower is like?' she
said. T will tell thee. It is like the pure soul of a child, quite
spotless, aud open, so that all can see into it ; and it looks towards
the sun as the innocent soul does towards God, from whom it
receives all. 1
That afternoon there was a heavy shower; when it had ceased
3! arbara ran out to look at her convolvulus. Alas, the rain had
beaten it to the ground, where it lay much torn and soiled.
Picking it up she took it to Catherine, who was working in the
kitchen.
'
All, see, the lovely flower has touched the earth, and is all
dirtied,' said the child sorrowfully.
'
beautiful soul, is it? '
'
Sister Kate, it is no more
Xo; but like one that has fallen into sin. O Barbara, a soul
that lias committed sin is far more disfigured than this flower.'
These conversations, and the good instructions she received
from Catherine, made a deep impression on that naturally
thoughtful child.
Thinking that she would like to have companions to play with
her, her kind friends asked Susan Barnhy and some other little
who they knew would teach no evil, to come occasionally
eit when Barbaia had amn-nl her--e1f with them
for a short -p.i