Elsa's Lesson | AdventAI

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jul 24, 1884

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 10, No. 28.

Elsa's Lesson.

It was the evening for the Sunday-school social, and Mrs. Duncan's large, brilliantly lighted parlors were filled to overflowing.

The young people were all there, not only the boys and girls, but the more sedate members of the Bible-class. They were gathered here and there in little groups, engaged in animated discussion and conversation, or playing games, the hum of their merry voices showing how thoroughly they were enjoying the evening.

A group of five bright, laughing girls gathered around the piano seemed to be having a particularly enjoyable time, if one might judge from their animated faces and occasional bursts of laughter at some witty remark of one of their number. They had criticized almost everybody in the room, not unkindly, but thoughtlessly and laughingly, as girls do, and now they had paused a moment, partly for want of breath and partly because they had exhausted their store of brilliant criticisms.

"There comes May Dennis," exclaimed one of the girls as through the hall door she caught a glimpse of a new arrival. "Girls, did you ever see anything like the way she dresses? It positively distracts my thought in church so that I can't think of anything but the incongruity of a bright red bonnet and a blue dress. It only needs to have the dress as bright a blue as the bonnet is red to be the very perfection of ugliness."

The girls laughed. They did not stop to think that May was the oldest of a large family, and that perhaps it was from necessity rather than choice that she had to wear last year's bonnet with this year's dress, instead of getting a tasteful winter suit throughout. These five girls knew nothing about May's daily struggles to make old things look as well as new, not for herself only, but for all the little ones. They were warm-hearted girls, and if they had known, if they had stopped to think about it, they would have warmly sympathized with her instead of laughing at her.

"There comes Joe Ellis," announced Elsa, as the hall door opened to admit another late-comer.

"He's a fine-looking boy, isn't he?" remarked one of her companions. "If he could only dress better, I don't think you could find a handsomer boy in the whole Sunday-school."

"Handsome is that handsome does," quoted Elsa. "I used to think that he was nice-looking enough until I found out what sort of a boy he is."

"Why, what do you mean?" exclaimed the girls together.

"Well, I do not think he is much better than a thief," replied Elsa. "I will tell you all about it if you will promise not to breathe a word to a living soul. I wouldn't like to give him a bad name even if he does deserve it."

"We won't ever breathe it; tell us about it," exclaimed Edna, eagerly.

"Hush! here he comes," and there was silence in the little group until the boy, a pleasant, manly fellow, had passed them with a bow and "Good evening, young ladies."

"Now I'll tell you all about it," began Elsa, and the five heads were put closely together while she whispered her story.

"You remember that dear little pearl-handled penknife that papa gave me for Christmas? Well, one day last week I was foolish enough to take it to school—I might have known I would lose it—and I left it in my desk. I remember putting it there distinctly, and I was the last girl to leave the school-room, so I know nobody could have touched it but Joe Ellis. He's a sort of janitor, you know; he sweeps the school-room every day, and dusts, and all that. Wasn't it mean in him?"

"Are you sure he did it?" asked Maud in astonishment.

"Why, of course I'm sure. I left the knife in my desk, and the next morning it was gone, and Joe was the only one who had been in the room. I think that proves it clearly enough."

"Why, I didn't think he was such a boy. I don't think he ought to be allowed to take up the collection in Sunday-school, for if he is dishonest about one thing he would be about another."

"I'm real angry about it," began Elsa. "Of course, I don't like to ask him about it, but—"

"Hush; some one is going to sing," whispered Edna, and silence fell on the little group.

There was no opportunity for further conversation about Joe Ellis' misdeeds before the gathering of young people dispersed, and Elsa went home, little knowing what an injury she had unconsciously done to the boy.

The next morning she overslept herself, and when she hurried down-stairs with her hat on, and her coat and school-bag on her arm, all ready for school, the clock struck nine just as she sat down to her solitary breakfast.

"Well, I'm going to be late anyway, so I may as well as not take my time over my breakfast," she thought. "I wonder who is in the parlor with mamma so early in the morning," she went on as she heard the sound of voices in the next room.

"It must be a great disappointment to the boy," she heard her mother say.

"Yes; he had set his heart on going, and it would certainly have been a splendid chance for him. He couldn't have been taken into a better business house. It would have been a great help to his mother, too. She feels it more than he does."

"I wonder whom they are talking about," thought Elsa, as she drank her coffee.

"I always considered Joe Ellis a remarkably honest, reliable boy," her mother went on. "I can't help thinking that there was some mistake about it. I wonder who could have told your uncle about his being dishonest. Whoever told him certainly ought to have to prove that the story is true. It is a very serious thing to him to lose his character, and this position isn't the only one he'll lose by having a reputation of dishonesty."

Elsa blushed scarlet, and turning in her chair listened eagerly for the next words. "They are talking about Joe Ellis," she exclaimed to herself. "I wonder if any one could have heard me telling the girls about the knife. There wasn't any one near enough to hear except that old gentleman who was sitting reading behind the piano, and he is a stranger anyway, and wouldn't know whom I was talking about."

"I should think your uncle might overlook that one fault, and give him a trial," said Elsa's mother.

"Well, Uncle Will is very peculiar, you know. He says he won't have anybody about him that he can't rely on, and though he had almost completed arrangements with Joe, he sent for him this morning, told him he had heard something against him, and would not take him. I was sorry for him," went on Mrs. Duncan, "but still I must say I think that uncle was right. A boy who can't be trusted in little things can't be trusted in great things."

A few moments later Mrs. Duncan went away, and her mother came into the dining-room.

"Why, Elsa, haven't you started for school yet?" she exclaimed. "How late you will be! Here is your little knife that you were so sure you had lost," she went on, placing it by Elsa's plate. "It had slipped through a little hole in your pocket down into the lining of your dress. I found it last night when I was mending your dress."

"O mamma!" exclaimed Elsa in dismay. "I was sure that Joe Ellis had taken it, and I told some of the girls so last night. I wonder if that is the story that Mrs. Duncan was telling about?"

"I am afraid it was," answered her mother sadly, "for it was something he had taken from a school-room. O Elsa, will you never learn to govern that unruly member?"

"Has he really lost a position just through that?" asked Elsa, tears filling her eyes. "O mamma, I am so sorry. What can I do to make up for it?"

"Perhaps if you go to the gentleman immediately, before he has time to engage any one else, you may be able to undo the mischief you have done."

"I will go right away," exclaimed Elsa, her face brighter at the prospect of repairing her mistake, and she hastened on her errand.

Her courage almost failed her when she found herself in Mrs. Duncan's parlor, with the old gentleman looking sharply at her with his keen dark eyes.

"Well, what can I do for you, young lady?"

"I want to ask you if the story you heard about Joe Ellis was what I told the girls last night by the piano—about the penknife?" faltered Elsa, rather incoherently.

"What do you want to know for?" asked the old gentleman sharply, looking rather surprised at the question.

"Because that was all a mistake," said Elsa timidly. "I didn't leave it in my desk after all, for mamma found it in the lining of my dress last night when she was mending it."

"And so you told a story like that, casting an indelible stain on the boy's character, without being sure of the truth of what you were saying," said the old gentleman rather severely.

"I thought it was true when I said it," Elsa answered. "Please, sir, couldn't you give him that position, because I am sure he is honest. Everybody always said he was an honest boy."

"It is too late now," was the answer. "I have already positively engaged another boy, and it would not be treating him justly to break faith with him. I think if you knew just how much trouble you have made for Joe Ellis, it would be a lesson to you never to let your tongue run away with you again without being sure that you are speaking the truth."

Elsa could not restrain her tears any longer.

"Can't you take him, too?" she sobbed. "I am so sorry. He has been trying to get a position for so many weeks. Have I spoiled everything for him by a few words?"

"It is too late for me to take him," said the

old gentleman, relaxing from his severity as he saw her evident distress.

"But I have a friend who, I think, wishes to take a young man into his business. I will recommend Joe Ellis to him, and I have no doubt but that he will take him. This is the best that I can promise to do for him. Now, young lady, I hope you will remember this whenever you want to talk about any one again. You didn't know that you were going to do Joe Ellis any harm except in the opinions of your friends, but you see what has come of it. I heard you tell them how Joe had taken the knife from your desk, and of course I didn't want to engage a book-keeper whom I couldn't trust. If you had not found the knife, I should have gone home this afternoon fully believing that he was not a boy to be trusted, and it might have been months before he would have had another chance to get into business. As it is, I feel that I owe Joe some amends for believing that he was dishonest without any proofs, so I shall get him a good position somewhere to make up to him for his disappointment; but you came very near injuring his character forever in my eyes. Now, good-bye," he concluded, as Elsa, drying her tears, arose to go. "Don't think that I have been too harsh and severe about this matter, but I wish that you and everybody could realize what a power the tongue is for either good or evil, and how carefully it should be used. Now, may I hope that you will remember the old man's plain talk with you? and will you let this be a lesson to you whenever you are tempted to let your tongue injure any one's character?"

"Yes, sir, I shall never forget it," said Elsa earnestly, and she meant what she said; and though several years have passed over her head, she has never forgotten the sad lesson of that morning.—Christian Weekly.