Suppose I were to say that he became a liar, a thief and a Sabbath-breaker, would you believe me? You could not, because you have seen that he loved God and feared sin. You know how he grieved when he disobeyed his parents; and how earnestly he confessed his fault to his heavenly Father. You know how he tried to conquer his impatience, and to be a dutiful, loving child. You know how earnestly he endeavored to win every one around him to be good; and how anxious he was to make others happy. Have I convinced you that in order to be happy yourself, you must make others so? If I have, I shall be well paid for writing the history of Bertie and his friends.
Perhaps you will remember that he was not over fond of study when he first began to attend school; but when his mamma explained to him that in order to become a useful member of society, as his father was, he must learn to read, write and spell, which were the first steps toward acquiring a good education, he made it a duty to learn every lesson thoroughly, so that by the time he was sixteen years old he was prepared to enter college.
In the meanwhile Winnie had come into her teens, and little Violetta was no longer the baby; for there were a pair of beautiful twin brothers at Woodlawn, "as near alike," Mrs. Dodge declared, "as two peas in a pod."
In the quiet, country town of Oxford Mrs. Curtis had gained health and strength. Of course, with so many little ones, her family cares had greatly increased, but with faithful Nancy in the nursery, she found time for visiting the poor and distressed, all of whom felt well assured that no one in need of help would be refused aid from the kind family at Woodlawn.
On a cold, windy December night, the inhabitants of Oxford were startled by cries of "Fire! fire!" What was their horror to see the flames coming from the large barn over the lake. With one accord men, women and children rushed from all parts of the town to offer aid in extinguishing the fire. It was, indeed, not the barn, but only an immense stack of hay behind it. Mr. Curtis, with the aid of his men, soon succeeded in extinguishing the flames; but the neighbors, once aroused, could not be persuaded that all the dear family were safe, until they had caught a glimpse of every member.
Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were deeply affected at the kind solicitude manifested for their safety; and when they tried, with tearful eyes, to express it, Mr. Taylor answered for the rest:
"Don't talk of thanking us for wanting to preserve one of God's greatest blessings to us. Oxford would be a sorry place enough without our dear ones at Woodlawn. No, my friends, we all feel that you belong to us, from the Squire down to the tiny babes in the cradle. We're thankful you didn't need our aid to-night to put out the fire; yet if you ever do, there isn't a man, woman or child in Oxford, but would be proud to render it, for there isn't one who hasn't received some good at your hands."
When the hearty speech was ended, Bertie went around among the people, shaking hands and thanking them earnestly for their kindness; and then they quietly returned to their homes.