22. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"I observed that Amy took drumsticks at dinner, ran errands
for her mother all the afternoon, gave Meg her place tonight, and
has waited on every on with patience and good humor. I also
observe that she does not fret much nor look in the glass, and has
not even mentioned a very pretty ring which she wears, so I
conclude that she has learned to think of other people more and of
herself less, and has decided to try and mold her character as
carefully as she molds her little clay figures. I am glad of
this, for though I should be very proud of a graceful statue made
by her, I shall be infinitely prouder of a lovable daughter with
a talent for making life beautiful to herself and others."
"What are you thinking of, Beth?" asked Jo, when Amy had
thanked her father and told about her ring.
"I read in PILGRIM'S PROGRESS today how, after many troubles,
christian and Hopeful came to a pleasant green meadow where lilies
bloomed all year round, and there they rested happily, as we do
now, before they went on to their journey's end," answered Beth,
adding, as she slipped out of her father's arms and went to the
instrument, "It's singing time now, and I want to be in my old
place. I'll try to sing the song of the shepherd boy which the
Pilgrims heard. I made the music for Father, because he likes
So, sitting at the dear little piano, Beth softly touched the
keys, and in the sweet voice they had never thought to hear again,
sang to her own accompaniment the quaint hymn, which was a
singularly fitting song for her.
He that is down need fear no fall,
He that is low no pride.
He that is humble ever shall
Have God to be his guide.
I am content with what I have,
Little be it, or much.
And, Lord! Contentment still I crave,
Because Thou savest such.
Fulness to them a burden is,
That go on pilgrimage.
Here little, and hereafter bliss,
Is best from age to age!