STRIFE AND VICTORY.

No thought had as yet suggested itself to Katie concerning her right to the money which had thus come into her possession, and as she lay there planning the things she was going to get with it, she enjoyed to the full the dignity of ownership. How glad her mother would be when there was a decent water-pail in the house, plates enough of one kind to go round, and a table-cloth that was not nearly all darns! Then her mother should have a new shawl and bonnet, and each of the boys a straw hat and a bright necktie, and she would have something to put in the plate every Sunday in church, and to add to the missionary collection of the Sunday-school class. Perhaps, even, she could give something toward a present that the girls were talking of giving to Miss Eunice.

But just then an idea, so painful that at first she turned away from it, struck her, and a question that she did not want to answer suggested itself to her mind. Had she a right to keep the money? Was it really hers? Of course it was, said inclination; whose else could it be? She had found it, no one else; if she had not picked it up it would have gone in with the rags to be boiled and ground up into paper again, or it might have been swept away among the dust and waste paper, and no one been the better or wiser. “Findings is keepings” was a familiar school-boy proverb; was it the right principle or not?

Katie tried to persuade herself that it was. Nevertheless, she was glad that, as she supposed, no one had seen her find the bill, and that her mother as yet knew nothing about the finding. Also, she did not plan out any more ways of spending the money.

Katie was so silent all teatime that her brothers continually rallied her upon her preoccupation, and her mother, fearing she must be sick, sent her to bed very early. To this the little girl did not object, as she wanted to be alone to think over the question that was so perplexing her brain.

Before getting into bed, our young friend opened her drawer, took out the box, gazed lovingly at the bill for a time, then put it away, and knelt to say her evening prayer. What was the matter to-night? For almost the first time since she had known what prayer really was, she could not pray. Her thoughts would not be controlled; they kept wandering away to the finding of that bill. She wondered whether any one had seen her find it, what use she should put it to, and if it were really hers after all. She knew it was wrong to think of other things at such a solemn moment, and felt guilty and condemned. Her conscience troubled her; it seemed as though God were angry with her. So far the finding of the money had not been a very happy event for its finder. It often happens that secular things, the things we are interested in in our daily lives, will come in between us and our prayers, and we cannot get rid of them. Young Christians especially are greatly troubled in this way, and have many weary fights in the attempt to control their thoughts. They have an idea that prayer is such a sacred thing, and God is so holy, that they must only talk to him about religion, and use pretty much the same words which they hear in church, and when they cannot do this, they either fall into the habit of saying such words formally without in the least thinking of their meaning, or else they are wretched and self-condemned because of what are called “distractions in prayer.” But there is a more excellent way, even to take all the things that really interest us directly to “our Father which art in heaven,” and tell him all about them. He encourages us to do so when he says, “casting all your care upon him,” and “in everything by prayer and supplication make your requests known unto God.” If we are really his children we may be sure that nothing is too small to interest him which rightfully interests us, and if it is not a right interest there is no surer way of finding that out, and gaining the victory over it, than by bringing it to the light of his Holy Spirit and asking him for strength to dispose of it as we ought.

Had Katie thus taken the money which she had found directly to the Lord, she would soon have understood all her duty concerning it. Her desire would have been only to do his will, and she would have gone to sleep as peacefully as a little child who trusts its mother to manage for it just as she sees to be for the best. But this she did not dare to do, partly because she had not yet learned to understand how God “careth” for his children in all little things, and partly because down at the bottom of her heart she was not quite ready to do his will that is, she hoped that it would be right for her to keep the money, and hoped this so strongly that she could not look fairly on the other side of the question. Nearly all night or it seemed so to a little girl who was generally asleep by the time her head touched the pillow she lay tossing from side to side, troubled by a dozen different sides of the question. And when she did get to sleep it was to dream confused dreams of thieves being taken to prison, and of being one of them herself.

As soon as it was light, for the long days had come now, the tired little girl sprang from her bed, and dressed herself, in a very unhappy frame of mind. She must decide very soon now, and she began to see more and more clearly that that money did not belong to her, but to the owner of the vest in which she had found it. To be sure, she could not now find the original owner, but Mr. Mountjoy certainly owned it, because he had bought the rags. It was one thing, however, to see this, and quite another to decide to give up to him who had so much the little that was so much to her. All the pleasant planning must go with it; all the things she had desired for her mother and the boys. She was sure she had not been selfish; it was not for herself she wanted money at all. From force of habit she opened her Bible and read the first words she saw, which were these: “Thou desirest truth in the inward parts.” And again the words flashed upon her: “Thou God seest me.”

What did God see? Did he see “truth in the inward part” of her heart? Was she prepared in all her ways to acknowledge him? his right to her and all that was hers?

Then she knelt down and did what she ought to have done the first thing told him, who understands and pities us “like as a father pitieth his children,” all about it, and asked him to forgive, to pity, and to direct her. And now it all came to her, for God always keeps his word, and he has promised to give his Holy Spirit to them that ask him, and further that that blessed Spirit when he comes shall “guide us unto all truth.”

Whoever was the owner of that bill, she was not. It belonged to God primarily, but he had given the disposal of it into the hands of him who owned the rags. If she kept it, at least without telling him that she had found it, she would be a thief! There was but one right way for her, and that was to take it at once to him, tell him where she had found it, and leave him to do as he thought best. To her mind there was little doubt what he would do. People did not generally give away their money, especially such large sums as fifty dollars seemed to her. All her air-castles must fall to the dust, and the house must go on with the old things as before.

Nevertheless, it was with a sense of absolute relief that Katie folded that bill away in her little purse, and dropped it far down into her pocket. If the “eyes of the Lord were in every place,” they saw it there, and they saw, too, into her heart, and saw there that the purpose of doing his will had, by his grace, triumphed over her own desires, and that was enough to make her once more the happy, bright Katie Robertson.

She was almost late at the mill this morning; had only just time to get to her place as the short whistle sounded, and of course there was no time to speak to Mr. Mountjoy. She commenced her work at once, and continued it very diligently, never once looking around at the other girls, so full was she of her own thoughts. Thus she did not see the significant looks which Bertie cast at her from time to time, nor the signs which she made to some of the other girls who, in their turn, became curious and significant, and lost several pennies in fines, because they could not help asking each other what was the matter.

Bertie had not exactly told the story as she knew it, but had insinuated to one and another that she knew something that nobody else knew about Katie Robertson; that, if she chose to tell all she knew, people would not think her such a saint; that, for her part, she did not believe in saints; when people pretended to be very religious they were sure to be dishonest, etc. etc. She made such a mystery of her news that the girls to whom she had made her half-confidence were worked up to a great state of excitement, and the others were devoured with curiosity to know what it could all be about.

But Katie worked quietly on. She had plenty of opportunity to change her determination had she desired to do so, and indeed the temptation to keep the money herself and say nothing about it presented itself again and again to her mind. But now she knew it to be a temptation, and she was strong to resist, because she had committed herself to One who was mighty and his strength was made perfect in her weakness.

As soon as the noon-bell rang and the work-people all poured along the corridors and out at the open doors, Katie knocked at the office door and was told to “Come in!” by Mr. James, who happened to be alone inside. Without a word the girl walked up to his desk and laid the bill down beside him.

The young man started, stared, and finally said:

“Where did you get this?”

“I found it in the rags, sir.”

“When?”

“Yesterday afternoon.”

“Why did you bring it to me?”

“Because I think if it belongs to anybody it does to you, it was found among your rags.”

“Why did you not bring it to me at once?”

“Because because I didn’t think at first, and I wanted it so much.”

“Did you?” said he, gravely. “You know the Bible says: ’Thou shalt not covet’?”

Katie started; had she been breaking one of the commandments, after all? Not the one about stealing, of which she had thought, but another.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” said she, in a low voice, “but we do want things so much mother, I mean. We are so poor.”

“Are you?” said the young man, in a sympathizing tone. “Well, you are an honest little girl to bring it to me at all. A great many would not have done so, and I should have known nothing about it. Didn’t you think of that?”

“Yes, sir; but God knew it, and that made all the difference. Besides, I don’t think I was quite honest; if I had been, I should have come to you the first minute, and not thought about keeping it at all.”

“Then you did have a little struggle about it?”

“Oh, yes, sir, I hardly slept all night. I didn’t know what to do at first, and then I didn’t want to do it.”

“But God gave you the victory,” said the young man, reverently.

“I understand all about that, and how sweet it is to be helped by him,” Katie added.

“Now,” continued he, “I think he sent you that fifty-dollar bill himself; first to try you, and then that you might help your mother to buy all those things that you and she are so much in need of. It isn’t mine, for when I pay two cents a pound for old rags I do not buy fifty dollar bills. Take it, and be just as happy with it as a thankful heart can make you. Good-morning; I must hurry home to dinner."

A gladder little girl than Katie Robertson it would be hard to find. The love of money is said to be the root of all evil, and so money itself sometimes is, but that is according to how it is gotten and how used.

This bill would have been a root of bitter evil to the girl had she kept it, in spite of an enlightened conscience, which told her to give it up; and it would have been a root of evil to the young man, had he taken it, as by the letter of the law he had an undoubted right to do, when he knew the little girl needed it so much more than he did. As it was, it was a seed of joy to both of them. Mr. James went home full of the joy which is so like to Christ’s joy, in having been kind to another at his own expense; and Katie’s heart could hardly hold the glad thankfulness, both to him and to her heavenly Father, that filled it to overflowing, and that was all the gladder because it was rooted in an approving conscience, at peace with itself and at peace with God.

The precious piece of paper was displayed to the wondering mother and brothers at the dinner-table that day. The story, or so much of it as Katie could bring herself to relate, was told, and all enjoyed in anticipation the comforts it was able to procure; but the best thing it accomplished was to teach its finder where to go in time of perplexity and temptation and in whose strength to be “more than conqueror.”