DWIGHT'S CHARGE by Phebe Parmelee

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Apr 20, 1888

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 14, No. 16.

DWIGHT'S CHARGE.

By Phebe Parmelee

A SOUND of singing came from the little Hayward cottage, and the voice was not very musical nor the time very perfect; but one could recognize the old familiar tune, "A charge to keep I have." Those who knew Dwight Hayward, especially his school-mates, would have told you, "Oh! he doesn't know what he is singing about. He doesn't know what a charge is." And yet Dwight was certainly singing to a charge, if he didn't call it by that name.

Tied into a low rocking-chair was a child whose size told one its age was five or six years, but whose helplessness explained a sad lacking in mind. The poor little brother had been badly hurt in his infancy, and there was no hope that he would ever be other than a poor, unfortunate body, to be cared for as such, as long as he should live.

When the teacher of the school called the roll that night, she stopped at Dwight Hayward's name and asked,—

"Can anyone tell me why Dwight is so irregular in his attendance? He has been absent one day out of every week, so far, and sometimes two days. He needs to be very regular too."

"He never could bear to go to school. He says it's no fun to be at the foot and then to be scolded into the bargain," answered the "head boy," pertly. The teacher blushed at the implied censure, but proceeded with dignity to finish the duties of the day.

The next morning Dwight was on hand early at the school-house. His teacher thought it an opportunity to inquire more thoroughly into his numerous absences.

"Don't you like to come to school, Dwight?" She remembered not to scold this time.

"No, ma'am," answered the boy candidly.

"I'm very sorry; and is that why you stay away so often?"

"No, ma'am," again responded Dwight. "But I don't know as I am very sorry that I have to."

"Why do you have to? I wish you knew how very necessary it is for you to come every day; you need to try your best to raise your grade. I wish you felt as anxious about it as I do."

"But I am glad I don't care very much, for then it would be ten times harder for me. I think it's just right that I don't care, for it makes it easier for mother and me both."

"Oh! I think your mother must want you to do your best in school. Doesn't she want you to grow up to be a wise man?"

"I guess she does; but she says she would rather I grew up to be a good one."

"Of course!" said the teacher thoughtfully. "But why not be both?"

"I think I wasn't made to be both, at least not in books. I guess mother's getting discouraged about my being wise; but she says everybody can be good."

"And are you trying to be good? I am glad of that. You didn't tell me why you had to stay out of school so often."

"Why, I thought everybody knew. The boys pretend it isn't so, but it is. They say I make it an excuse to stay away from school, but I don't. I'd stay in from playing just the same—the times I have to stay out of school."

"Tell me about it, Dwight," said his teacher gently, and becoming more interested.

"Well, mother gets tired staying at home and taking care of my little brother all the time. She needs to go away out of the house and get some exercise and fresh air, so the doctor said, and I know she does, and I want her to."

"Can't she take the little brother with her?"

"Oh no! He's a great big fellow, 'most six, and can't walk, and she's a little bit of a woman. Why, Benny doesn't know anything, and never did. He always has to be taken care of like a little baby, and I'm abler to do it than mother is, and I'm always going to help her, school or no school. I don't mean to be saucy, but I've got to help take care of Benny."

"Yes, I see, my boy, but do you like to take care of Benny?"

"It's no great fun; he isn't much company, and I feel pretty lonesome sometimes, and would almost rather come to school for the sake of playing with the boys. But then father has to be away working, and we are not able to hire a nurse—and it's just no use talking!"

"Why, yes, Dwight, I think it has been of some use talking. I understand it better than I did before, and I believe that I am better acquainted with you."

Dwight looked glad, and somewhat surprised to be understood. After a moment he looked up and said:—

"I guess you are the only one who knows just how it is. The boys and girls don't seem to, and I always think I'll just let it go, and let them think what they're a mind to."

"They'll find out sometime, just as I have," said the teacher brightly.

"But I'll never tell them, and I expect they'll call me stupid as long as I come to school; and I don't wonder, because I can't get a grade over sixty to save my life."

"You just go on doing all you have to do as well as you can, no matter what it is—learning lessons, or caring for your brother and helping your mother—and they will know sometime. I'll help you about your lessons all I can, and try not to scold any more. Indeed, I shan't feel like scolding such a little hero as you are."

Dwight looked questionably at the lady, wondering who had been repeating his words. With his customary candor, he said:—

"Oh! I need scolding sometimes; but I believe I'll try, after this, to do my very best while I am here."

The morning session of school opened, and two, at least, in the room felt that the day had begun profitably to them. A scheme was working among the pupils to go into the woods the next day, and have a lunch and a good time generally, picking May-flowers.

"Of course we shall need you, Dwight, to climb a big tree to put up a swing. He climbs like a cat," said one of the large girls, turning to the teacher.

If there was one thing more than another that Dwight particularly liked, it was a day spent in the woods, and he hadn't seemed to have time this spring to enjoy such days; but he answered quietly and with a disappointed look:—

"I don't think I can go to-morrow. May be I could go the next holiday."

"You're just fooling! Catch you staying home from a day of fun like that! If 'twas school now—! I guess your mother will have to take care of Ben to-morrow. Oh, come on, now; what's the use of fooling!"

"I'm afraid, boys, that I can't go to-morrow. Aunt Mary sent for mother to spend the day in town to-morrow. I hate it awfully, though. I'd just give anything!"

"She can put off her visit or take Ben along," said one boy who knew how to arrange plans for himself.

"I suppose she would, if I should ask her, but I'm not going to. She needs to go more than I do, and she wouldn't rest any, taking Ben along. It's just no use talking!"

Something in the words made him look toward his teacher. She had drawn near enough to hear the whole conversation. Her eyes were shining, and there was a little look of triumph on her face.

"Seems to me your talking amounts to a good deal to-day, Dwight. I believe you are gifted in speech."

The other boys standing near were surprised enough to stop their talking and listen attentively.

"I, for one, believe you have stayed at home from school just because you were manly enough to take care of that mother of yours, and brother, too." The boy who was the best scholar in school looked down, while the teacher went on: "And as much as I prize learning of all kinds, I think more of a manly or womanly heart. I'd rather have a large soul than a large brain. Wouldn't you, boys?"

The boys looked doubtfully at Dwight.

"The thing is," resumed the teacher, "there's

no end to the growth of a large soul. I can't help thinking of some Bible words, 'Whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.' But 'love never faileth;' and we all know the everlasting life that is in store for those who possess the love of Christ; so the purer and more loving we become, the more blessed we shall be in the great hereafter."

The school enjoyed the next day in the woods—all but Dwight, and he was not forgotten. A girl remarked, "I can almost hear Dwight Hayward singing—and he always sings, 'A charge to keep I have.'"

"And I guess he keeps his charge better than he sings the tune," said another.