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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Holiday Stories for Young People, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Holiday Stories for Young People
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Margaret E. Sangster
+
+Release Date: September 4, 2005 [EBook #16648]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOLIDAY STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Janet Blenkinship
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Holiday Stories
+
+FOR
+
+YOUNG PEOPLE.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Compiled and Edited by
+
+MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+PUBLISHED BY
+THE CHRISTIAN HERALD
+LOUIS KLOPSCH, Proprietor,
+BIBLE HOUSE, NEW YORK.
+
+
+Copyright, 1896, BY LOUIS KLOPSCH.
+
+
+
+
+   DEDICATION.
+
+
+  To John and Jane, to Fred and Frank,
+    To Theodore and Mary,
+  To Willie and to Reginald,
+    To Louis, Sue and Gary;
+  To sturdy boys and merry girls,
+    And all the dear young people
+  Who live in towns, or live on farms,
+    Or dwell near spire or steeple;
+  To boys who work, and boys who play,
+    Eager, alert and ready,
+  To girls who meet each happy day
+    With faces sweet and steady;
+  To dearest comrades, one and all,
+    To Harry, Florrie, Kate,
+  To children small, and children tall,
+    This book I dedicate.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+Boys and girls, I am proud to call a host of you my personal friends,
+and I dearly love you all. It has been a great pleasure to me to arrange
+this gift book for you, and I hope you will like the stories and
+ballads, and spend many happy hours over them. One story, "The Middle
+Daughter," was originally published in Harper's "Round Table," and is
+inserted here by consent of Messrs. Harper and Brothers. Two of the
+ballads, "Horatius," and "The Pied Piper," belong to literature, and you
+cannot afford not to know them, and some of the fairy stories are like
+bits of golden coin, worth treasuring up and reading often. Miss Mary
+Joanna Porter deserves the thanks of the boys for the aid she has given
+in the making of this volume, and the bright stories she has contributed
+to its pages.
+
+A merry time to you, boys and girls, and a heart full of love from your
+steadfast friend,
+
+                                                           M.E.S.
+
+
+
+                           CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                                               PAGE
+   1. The Clover Leaf Club of Bloomdale. By M.E. Sangster        9
+
+   2. The Lighthouse Lamp. By M.E. Sangster.                    71
+
+   3. The Family Mail-bag. By Mary Joanna Porter                73
+
+   4. A Day's Fishing. By Mary Joanna Porter                    79
+
+   5. Why Charlie Didn't Go. By Mary Joanna Porter              85
+
+   6. Uncle Giles' Paint Brush. By Mary Joanna Porter           91
+
+   7. The Pied Piper of Hamelin. By Robert Browning             95
+
+   8. A Girl Graduate. By Cynthia Barnard                      104
+
+   9. A Christmas Frolic. By M.E. Sangster                     116
+
+  10. Archie's Vacation. By Mary Joanna Porter                 119
+
+  11. A Birthday Story. By M.E. Sangster                       124
+
+  12. A Coquette. By Amy Pierce                                130
+
+  13. Horatius. Ballad. By T.B. Macaulay                       131
+
+  14. A Bit of Brightness. By Mary Joanna Porter               151
+
+  15. How Sammy Earned the Prize. By M.E. Sangster             157
+
+  16. The Glorious Fourth                                      162
+
+  17. The Middle Daughter. By M.E. Sangster                    163
+
+  18. The Golden Bird. By the Brothers Grimm.                  226
+
+  19. Harry Pemberton's Text. By Elizabeth Armstrong           239
+
+  20. Our Cats                                                 246
+
+  21. Outovplace                                               252
+
+  22. The Boy Who Dared to be a Daniel. By S. Jennie Smith     254
+
+  23. Little Red Cap. By the Brothers Grimm.                   259
+
+  24. New Zealand Children                                     266
+
+  25. The Breeze from the Peak                                 271
+
+  26. The Bremen Town Musicians. By the Brothers Grimm         276
+
+  27. A Very Queer Steed and Some Strange Adventures.
+        Told after Ariosto, by Elizabeth Armstrong             282
+
+  28. Freedom's Silent Host. By M.E. Sangster                  292
+
+  29. Presence of Mind. By M.E. Sangster                       294
+
+  30. The Boy Who Went from the Sheepfold to the Throne.
+        By M.E. Sangster                                       312
+
+
+
+
+Holiday Stories for Young People
+
+
+
+
+The Clover Leaf Club of Bloomdale
+
+BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+THE HEROINE PRESENTS HERSELF.
+
+
+My name is Milly Van Doren, and I am an only child. I won't begin by
+telling you how tall I am, how much I weigh, and the color of my eyes
+and hair, for you would not know very much more about my looks after
+such an inventory than you do without it, and mother says that in her
+opinion it is pleasantest to form one's own idea of a girl in a story
+book. Mother says, too, that a good rule in stories is to leave out
+introductions, and so I will follow her advice and plunge into the
+middle of my first morning. It was early summer and very lovely, and I
+was feeling half-sad and half-glad, with the gladness surpassing the
+sadness, because I had never before been half so proud and important.
+
+Father and mother, after talking and planning and hesitating over it a
+long while, were actually going on a journey just by themselves and
+without me; and I, being now considered old enough and steady enough,
+was to stay at home, keep house, and take care of dear grandmamma. With
+Aunt Hetty at the helm, the good old servant, whose black face had
+beamed over my cradle fifteen years ago, and whose strong arms had come
+between mother and every roughness during her twenty years of
+housekeeping, it really looked as if I might be trusted, and as if
+mother need not give me so many anxious directions. Did mother think me
+a baby? I wondered resentfully. Father always reads my face like an open
+page.
+
+"Thee may leave something to Milly's discretion, dear," he said, in his
+slow, stately way.
+
+"Thee forgets her inexperience, love," said my gentle mother.
+
+Father and mother are always courtly and tender with one another, never
+hasty of speech, never impatient. They have been lovers, and then they
+are gentlefolk. Father waited, and mother kept on telling me about
+grandmamma and the cat, the birds and the best china, the fire on the
+hearth in cool evenings, and the last year's canned fruit, which might
+as well be used up while she was away, particularly the cherries and
+plums.
+
+"May the girls come over often?" I asked.
+
+"Whenever you like," said mother. "Invite whom you please, of course."
+
+Here father held up his watch warningly. It was time to go, if they
+were to catch the train. Arm in arm they walked down the long avenue to
+the gate, after bidding me good-bye. Grandmamma watched them, waving her
+handkerchief from the window of her room over the porch, and at the last
+moment I rushed after them for a final kiss and hug.
+
+"Be good, dear child, and let who will be clever," said father, with a
+twinkle in his eye.
+
+"Don't forget to count the silver every morning," said mother.
+
+And so my term of office began. Bloomdale never wore a brighter face
+than during that long vacation--a vacation which extended from June till
+October. We girls had studied very diligently all winter. In spring
+there had been scarlet fever in the village, and our little
+housekeepers, for one cause or another, had seldom held meetings; and
+some of the mothers and older sisters declared that it was just what
+they had expected, our ardor had cooled, and nothing was coming of our
+club after all that had been said when we organized.
+
+As president of the Bloomdale Clover Leaf Club I determined that the
+club should now make up for lost time, and having _carte-blanche_ from
+mother, as I supposed, I thought I would set about work at once.
+Cooking was our most important work, and there's no fun in cooking
+unless eating is to follow; so the club should be social, and give
+luncheons, teas and picnics, at which we might have perfectly lovely
+times. I saw no reason for delay, and with my usual impulsiveness,
+consulted nobody about my first step.
+
+And thus I made mistake number one. Cooking and housekeeping always look
+perfectly easy on paper. When you come to taking hold of them in real
+earnest with your own hands you find them very different and much
+harder.
+
+Soon after I heard the train whistle, and knew that father and mother
+were fairly gone, I harnessed old Fan to the phaeton, and set out to
+visit every one of the girls with an invitation to tea the very next
+evening. I did put my head into grandmamma's chamber to tell her what I
+thought of doing, but the dear old lady was asleep in her easy-chair,
+her knitting lying in her lap, and I knew she did not wish to be
+disturbed. I closed the door softly and flew down stairs.
+
+Just as I was ready to start, Aunt Hetty came to the kitchen door,
+calling me, persuasively: "Miss Milly, honey, what yo' done mean to hab
+for dinner?"
+
+"Oh, anything you please, aunty," I called back, gathering up the reins,
+chirping to Fan, and taking the road to the Curtis girls' house.
+Certainly I had no time to spend consulting with Aunt Hetty.
+
+Mother knew me better than father did. I found out later that this
+wasn't at all a proper way to keep house, giving no orders, and leaving
+things to the discretion, of the cook. But I hadn't really begun yet,
+and I was wild to get the girls together.
+
+Bloomdale is a sort of scattered up-hill and down-dale place, with one
+long and broad street running through the centre of the village, and
+houses standing far apart from each other, and well back from the
+pavement in the middle of the green lawns, swept into shadow by grand
+old trees. The Bloomdale people are proud of the town, and keep the
+gardens beautiful with flowers and free from weeds. Life in Bloomdale
+would be perfectly delightful, all the grown-up people say, if it were
+not for the everlasting trouble about servants, who are forever changing
+their places and going away, and complaining that the town is dull, and
+their church too distant, and life inconvenient; and so every one envies
+my mother, who has kept Hetty all these years, and never had any trouble
+at all.
+
+At least I fancied that to be so, till I was a housekeeper myself, and
+found out that Aunt Hetty had spells of temper and must be humored, and
+was not perfect, any more than other people vastly above her in station
+and beyond her in advantages.
+
+I stopped for Linda Curtis, and she jumped into the phaeton and went
+with me. We asked Jeanie Cartwright, Veva Fay, Lois Partridge, Amy
+Pierce and Marjorie Downing to tea the next day, and every girl of them
+promised to come bright and early.
+
+When I reached home I ran to grandmamma to ask her if I had done right,
+and to get her advice about what I would better have for my bill of
+fare.
+
+"Thee is too precipitate, dear child," said grandmamma. "Why not have
+waited two or three days before having a company tea? I fear much that
+Hetty will be contrary, and not help as she ought. And I have one of my
+headaches coming."
+
+"Oh, grandmamma!" I exclaimed. "Have you taken your pills?" I was
+aghast.
+
+"Thee needn't worry, dear," replied grandmamma, quite unruffled. "I have
+taken them, and if the headache does not vanish before dark, I'll sleep
+in the south chamber to-night, and be out of the way of the stir
+to-morrow. I wish, though, Aunt Hetty were not in a cross fit."
+
+"It is shameful," I said. "Aunt Hetty has been here so long that she
+does not know her place. I shall not be disturbed by her moods."
+
+So, holding my head high, I put on my most dignified manner and went to
+the kitchen. Aunt Hetty, in a blue gingham gown, with a gay kerchief
+tied on her head, was slowly and pensively rocking herself back and
+forth in her low chair. She took no notice of me whatever.
+
+"Aunt Hetty!"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Aunt Hetty!" This time I spoke louder.
+
+Still she rocked back and forth, apparently as deaf as a post. I grew
+desperate, and, going up to her, put my hand on her shoulder, saying:
+
+"_Aunt Hetty_, aren't we to have our dinner? The fire seems to be out."
+
+She shook off my hand and slowly rose, looking glum and preoccupied.
+
+"Didn't hear no orders for dinner, Miss Alice."
+
+"Now, Aunt Hetty," I remonstrated, "why will you be so horrid? You know
+I am the housekeeper when mother is away, and you're going to spoil
+everything, and make her wish she hadn't gone. _How_ can I manage if you
+won't help? Come, be good," I pleaded.
+
+But nothing moved her from her stony indifference, and I went back to
+grandmamma in despair. I was about to pour all my woes in her ear, but a
+glance at her pale face restrained me.
+
+She was going to have a regular Van Doren headache.
+
+"We never have headaches like other people."
+
+How many times I have heard my aunts and uncles say this in just these
+words! They do not think me half a Van Doren because, owing to my
+mother's way of bringing me up, I have escaped the family infliction. In
+fact, I am half a Neilson, and the Neilsons are a healthy everyday set,
+who do not have aches and pains, and are seldom troubled with nerves.
+Plebeian, perhaps, but very comfortable.
+
+I rushed back to the den of Aunt Hetty, as I now styled the kitchen. She
+was pacing back and forth like a lioness in a cage at a show, singing an
+old plantation melody. That was a sign that her fit of temper was worse
+than ever. Little I cared.
+
+"Hetty Van Doren," I said, "stop sulking and singing! There isn't time
+for either. Poor grandmamma has a fearful headache, and you and I will
+have to take care of her. Put some water on to boil, and then come up to
+her room and help me. And don't sing 'Go down, Moses,' another minute."
+
+I had used two arguments which were powerful with Aunt Hetty. One was
+calling her Hetty Van Doren. She liked to be considered as belonging to
+the family, and no compliment could have pleased her more. She often
+said she belonged to the Kentucky _noblesse_, and held herself far above
+common trash.
+
+The other was my saying you and I. She was vexed that mother had left
+me--a baby, in her opinion--to look after the house, and rather resented
+my assuming to be the mistress. By my happy form of speech I pleased the
+droll old woman, who was much like a child herself. Then, too, she was
+as well aware as I was that grandmamma's pain would grow worse and worse
+every hour until it was relieved.
+
+It was surprising how quickly aunty moved when she chose. She had a fire
+made and the kettle on to boil in five minutes; and, almost before I
+knew it, she had set cold chicken, and nice bread and butter and a great
+goblet of creamy milk on the table for me.
+
+"There, honey," she said, "don't mind dis hateful ole woman. Eat your
+luncheon, while I go up and help ole miss to bed."
+
+A hot-water bag for her feet, warm bandages laid on her head, some
+soothing medicine which she always took, and Hetty and I at last left
+grandmamma more comfortable than we found her. It was funny, as I
+thought of it afterward. In one of her worst paroxysms the dear lady
+gasped, a word at a time:
+
+"Aunt--Hetty,--Miss--Milly--has--asked--friends--to--tea--to-morrow.
+Put--some--ham--and--tongue--on--to--boil--directly!"
+
+Aunt Hetty looked as if she thought grandmamma must be raving. I nodded
+that it was all right, and up went the two black hands in expostulation
+and amazement.
+
+But a while later a savory smell of boiling ham came appetizingly wafted
+up the stairs. I drew a free breath. I knew the girls would at least
+have something to eat, and my hospitality would not be shamed.
+
+So toward evening I made grandmamma a cup of tea. It is not every one
+who knows how to make tea. The water must boil and bubble up. It isn't
+fully boiling when the steam begins to rise from the spout, but if you
+will wait five minutes after that it will be just right for use. Pour a
+very little into the teapot, rinse it, and pour the water out, and then
+put in your tea. No rule is better than the old one of a teaspoonful for
+every cup, and an extra one for the pot. Let this stand five minutes
+where it will not boil, and it will be done. Good tea must be steeped
+not boiled. Mother's way is to make hers on the table. I have been
+drilled over and over in tea making, and am skillful.
+
+I made some dainty slices of toast in this way: I cut off the crust and
+put it aside for a pudding, and as the oven was hot, I placed the bread
+in a pan, and let it lean against the edge in a slanting position. When
+it was a pale golden brown I took it out, and carried it to grandmamma.
+The object of toasting bread is to get the moisture out of it. This is
+more evenly done in the oven than over the fire. Toast should not be
+burned on one side and raw on the other; it should be crisp and delicate
+all through.
+
+My tea and toast were delicious, and tasted all the better for being
+arranged in the prettiest china we had and on our daintiest salver.
+
+The next morning grandmamma was better, and I had my hands full.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+COMPANY TO TEA, AND SOME RECEIPTS.
+
+
+You remember that grandmamma in the very middle of her headache gave
+orders about boiling the ham and the tongue.
+
+We made a rule after that, and Veva, who was secretary, wrote it in the
+club's book: "Always begin getting ready for company the day before."
+
+I had not noticed it then, but it is mother's way, and it saves a great
+deal of confusion. If everything is left for the day on which the
+company is expected, the girl who is hostess will be much too tired to
+enjoy her friends. She ought to have nothing on her mind which can worry
+her or keep her from entering into their pleasure. A hurried, worried
+hostess makes her guests feel somehow in a false position.
+
+Our house was, fortunately, in excellent order, so I had nothing to do
+except, in the morning, to set the table prettily, to dust the parlors,
+to put fresh flowers in the vases, and give a dainty finishing touch
+here and there to the rooms. There were plenty of pleasant things to do.
+I meant to have tea over early, and then some of the club's brothers
+would be sure to come in, and we could play tennis on our ground, and
+perhaps have a game of croquet. Then, when it was too dark for that sort
+of amusement, we could gather on the veranda or in the library, and have
+games there--Dumb Crambo and Proverbs, until the time came for the girls
+to go home.
+
+First, however, the eating part of the entertainment had to be thought
+of.
+
+Aunt Hetty was in a wonderful good humor, and helped with all her might,
+so that my preparations went on very successfully. Grandmamma felt so
+much better that I asked her advice, and this was the bill of fare
+which she proposed:
+
+  Ham Sandwiches.
+  Cold Sliced Tongue.
+  Quick Biscuits.
+  Apple-Sauce.
+  Strawberries and Cream.
+  Tapioca Blanc-Mange.
+  Cup-Cake.
+  Cookies.
+  Cocoa.
+
+The ham, having been boiled till tender the afternoon before, was
+chopped very fine, a tiny dash of mustard added to it, and then it was
+spread smoothly between two pieces of the thinnest possible
+bread-and-butter. Around each of the sandwiches, when finished, I tied a
+very narrow blue ribbon. The effect was pretty.
+
+The tongue was sliced evenly, and arranged on a plate with tender leaves
+of lettuce around its edge.
+
+The biscuits I made myself. Mother taught me how. First I took a quart
+of flour, and dropped into it two teaspoonfuls of our favorite
+baking-powder. This I sifted twice, so that the powder and flour were
+thoroughly blended. Mother says that cakes and biscuits and all kinds of
+pastry are nicer and lighter if the flour is sifted twice, or even three
+times. I added now a tablespoonful of lard and a half teaspoonful of
+salt, and mixed the biscuit with milk. The rule is to handle as little
+as possible, and have the dough very soft. Roll into a mass an inch
+thick, and cut the little cakes apart with a tin biscuit-cutter. They
+must be baked in a very hot oven.
+
+No little housekeeper need expect to have perfect biscuits the first
+time she makes them. It is very much like playing the piano. One needs
+practice. But after she has followed this receipt a half dozen times,
+she will know exactly how much milk she will require for her dough, and
+she will have no difficulty in handling the soft mass. A dust of flour
+over the hands will prevent it from sticking to them.
+
+Mother always insists that a good cook should get all her materials
+together before she begins her work.
+
+The way is to think in the first place of every ingredient and utensil
+needed, then to set the sugar, flour, spice, salt, lard, butter, milk,
+eggs, cream, molasses, flavoring, sieves, spoons, egg-beaters, cups,
+strainers, rolling-pins, and pans, in a convenient spot, so that you do
+not have to stop at some important step in the process, while you go to
+hunt for a necessary thing which has disappeared or been forgotten.
+
+Mother has often told me of a funny time she had when she was quite a
+young housekeeper, afflicted with a borrowing neighbor. This lady seldom
+had anything of her own at hand when it was wanted, so she depended upon
+the obliging disposition of her friends.
+
+One day my mother put on her large housekeeping apron and stepped
+across the yard to her outdoor kitchen. The kitchens in Kentucky were
+never a part of the house, but always at a little distance from it, in a
+separate building.
+
+"Aunt Phyllis," said my mother to the cook, who was browning coffee
+grains in a skillet over the fire, "I thought I told you that I was
+coming here to make pound cake and cream pies this morning. Why is
+nothing ready?"
+
+"La, me, Miss Emmeline!" replied Aunt Phyllis. "Miss 'Tilda Jenkins done
+carried off every pie pan and rolling-pin and pastry-board, and borrowed
+all de eggs and cream fo' herself. Her bakin' isn't mo'n begun."
+
+This was a high-handed proceeding, but nothing could be done in the
+case. It was Mrs. Jenkins' habit, and mother had always been so amiable
+about it that the servants, who were easygoing, never troubled
+themselves to ask the mistress, but lent the inconvenient borrower
+whatever she desired.
+
+Sometimes just as we were going to church, I was too little at the time
+to remember, mother said that a small black boy with very white teeth
+and a very woolly head, would pop up at her chamber door, exclaiming,
+
+"Howdy, Miss Emmeline. Miss 'Tilda done sent me to borrow yo'
+Prayer-book. She goin' to church to-day herself."
+
+Or, of a summer evening, her maid would appear with a modest request for
+Miss Emmeline's lace shawl and red satin fan; Miss 'Tilda wanted to make
+a call and had nothing to wear.
+
+All this, I think, made mother perfectly _set_ against our ever
+borrowing so much as a slatepencil or a pin. We were always to use our
+own things or go without. I never had a sister, but cousins often spent
+months at the house, and were in and out of my room in the freest way,
+forever bringing me their gloves to mend or their ties to clean, as
+cousins will.
+
+"Never borrow," said my mother. "Buy, or give away, or do without, but
+be beholden to nobody for a loan."
+
+Another rule for little housekeepers is to wash their hands and faces
+and have their hair in the nicest order before they begin to cook. The
+nails should be cleaned and the toilet attended to as carefully as if
+the girl were going to a party, before she begins any work in the
+kitchen.
+
+I suppose you think my bill of fare for a company tea very plain, but I
+hadn't time for anything elaborate. Besides, if what you have is very
+good, and set on the table prettily, most people will be satisfied even
+if the fare is simple.
+
+"Apple-sauce," said Amy one day, "is a dish I never touch. We used to
+have it so often at school that I grew tired at the sight of it."
+
+But Amy did eat apple-sauce at our house. Aunt Hetty taught me how to
+make it, and I think it very good. We always cook it in an earthenware
+crock over a very quick fire. This is our receipt: Pare and slice the
+apples, eight large ones are sufficient for a generous dish, and put
+them on with a very little water. As soon as they are soft and pulpy
+stir in enough granulated sugar to make them as sweet as your father and
+brothers like them. Take them off and strain them through a fine sieve
+into a glass dish. Cook the apple-sauce about two hours before it is
+wanted on the table. Put beside it a bowl of whipped cream, and when you
+help to the sauce add a heaping spoonful of the cream to every dish.
+
+People spoil apple-sauce by making it carelessly, so that it is lumpy
+and coarse, or has seeds or bits of the core sticking in it, and mother
+says that both apple-pies and apple-sauce should be used the day they
+are made. They lose their _bouquet_, the fine delicate flavor is all
+gone if you keep them long before using. A great divine used to say that
+"the natural life of an apple pie is just twelve hours."
+
+_Tapioca Blanc-Mange._--This is the receipt: One pint of fresh milk,
+three-quarters of a cupful of sugar, half a pound of tapioca soaked in
+cold water four hours, a small teaspoonful of vanilla, a pinch of salt.
+Heat the milk and stir in the tapioca previously soaked. Mix well and
+add the sugar. Boil it slowly fifteen minutes, then take it off and beat
+until nearly cold. Pour into moulds, and stand upon the ice.
+
+This is very nice served with a teaspoonful of currant or raspberry
+jelly to each helping, and if cream is added it makes a beautiful
+dessert. This ought to be made the day before it is needed. I made mine
+before noon and it was quite ready, but you see it tired me to have it
+on my mind, and it _might_ have been a failure.
+
+_Cup-Cake._--Three teacups of sifted sugar and one cup and a half of
+butter beaten to a cream, three eggs well beaten (white and yolks
+separately), three teacupfuls of sifted flour. Flavor with essence of
+lemon or rose water. A half teaspoonful is enough. Dissolve a
+teaspoonful of cream of tartar and a half teaspoonful of baking soda in
+a very little milk. When they foam, stir them quickly into the cake.
+Beat well until the mixture is perfectly smooth, and has tiny bubbles
+here and there on the surface. Bake in a very quick oven.
+
+_Cookies._--These were in the house. We always keep a good supply. One
+cup of butter, one of sugar, one of sour milk, half a nutmeg grated,
+one teaspoonful of saleratus dissolved in a little boiling water, flour
+enough to roll out the cookies. Cut into small round cakes and bake.
+Keep these in a close tin. They will last a long time unless the house
+is supplied with hungry school-boys.
+
+_Cocoa._--Two ounces of cocoa and one quart of boiling water. Boil
+together for a half hour on the back of the stove, then add a quart of
+milk and two tablespoonfuls of sugar. Boil for ten minutes and serve.
+
+Everything on the table was enjoyed, and we girls had a very merry time.
+After tea and before the brothers came, we arranged a plan for learning
+to make bread. I forgot to speak of the strawberries, but good
+strawberries and rich cream need no directions. A pretty way of serving
+them for breakfast, or for people who prefer them without cream, is
+simply to arrange the beautiful fruit unhulled on a cut glass dish, and
+dip each berry by its dainty stem into a little sparkling mound of
+powdered sugar.
+
+As for our games, our talk, our royally good time, girls will understand
+this without my describing it. As Veva said, you can't put the soul of a
+good time down on the club's record book, and I find I can't put it down
+here in black and white. But when we said good-night, each girl felt
+perfectly satisfied with the day, and the brothers pleaded for many
+more such evenings.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+A FAIR WHITE LOAF.
+
+
+"It's very well," said Miss Clem Downing, Marjorie's sister, "for you
+little housekeepers to make cakes and creams; anybody can do that; but
+you'll never be housekeepers in earnest, little or big, my dears, till
+you can make good eatable bread."
+
+"Bread," said Mr. Pierce to Amy, "is the crowning test of housewifery. A
+lady is a loaf-giver, don't you know?"
+
+"When Jeanie shall present me with a perfect loaf of bread, I'll present
+her with a five-dollar gold piece," said Jeanie's father.
+
+"I don't want Veva meddling in the kitchen," observed Mrs. Fay, with
+emphasis. "The maids are vexatious enough, and the cook cross enough as
+it is. If ever Veva learns breadmaking, it must be outside of this
+house."
+
+"Don't bother me, daughter," said Mrs. Partridge, looking up from the
+cup she was painting. "It will be time for you to learn breadmaking when
+the bakers shut their shops."
+
+As for the writer of this story, her mother's way had been to teach her
+breadmaking when she was just tall enough to have a tiny moulding-board
+on a chair, but Milly did not feel qualified to take hold of a regular
+cooking class. It was the same with Linda Curtis. Grandmamma suggested
+our having a teacher, and paying her for her trouble.
+
+"Miss Muffet?" said Veva.
+
+"Miss Muffet," we all exclaimed.
+
+"And then," said Jeanie, "our money will enable her to buy the winter
+cloak she is so much in need of, and she will not feel as if she were
+accepting charity, because she will earn the money if she teaches us."
+
+"Indeed, she will," exclaimed Veva. "I know beforehand that she will
+have one fearfully stupid pupil, and that is Veva Fay."
+
+Breakfast was no sooner over next morning, and grandmamma dressed and
+settled in comfort, than away we flew to our friend. "We," means Linda
+and myself. She is my nearest neighbor, and we often act for the club.
+
+Miss Muffet lived by herself in a bit of a house, her only companions
+being a very deaf sister and a very noisy parrot.
+
+"Passel o' girls! Passel o' girls!" screamed the parrot, as we lifted
+the latch and walked up the little bricked pathway, bordered with
+lady-slippers and prince's feather, to the porch, which was half hidden
+by clematis.
+
+Miss Muffet was known to every man, woman and child in Bloomdale. She
+was sent for on every extra occasion, and at weddings, christenings and
+funerals, when there was more work than usual to be done, the little
+brisk woman, so quiet and so capable, was always on hand. She could do a
+little of everything, from seating Tommy's trousers to setting patches
+in Ellen's sleeves; from making lambrequins and table scarfs to
+laundrying lace curtains and upholstering furniture. As for cooking,
+preserving and canning, she was celebrated for miles around and beyond
+our township.
+
+"Would Miss Muffet undertake to show a few girls how to make bread and
+rolls and biscuit and sally-lunn, and have patience with them till they
+were perfect little housekeepers, so far as bread was concerned."
+
+It was some little time before we could make Miss Muffet understand our
+plan, and persuade her to let us pay for our lessons; but when she did
+understand, she entered into the plan with enthusiasm.
+
+"La me! What a clever notion to be sure! Sister Jane, poor dear, would
+approve of it highly, if she weren't so deaf. Begin to-day? Well, well!
+You don't want the grass to grow under your feet, do you? All right!
+I'll be at your house, Milly, at six o'clock this evening to give the
+first lesson. Have the girls there, if you can. It's as easy to teach a
+dozen as one."
+
+"Milly," said Linda, "the club ought to have a uniform and badges. I
+don't think a club is complete that hasn't a badge."
+
+"We all have white aprons," I said.
+
+"Yes; ordinary aprons, but not great kitchen aprons to cover us up from
+head to foot."
+
+"Well, if the club adopts the plan it will not be hard to make such
+aprons. We must certainly have caps, and those should be thought of at
+once."
+
+Grandmamma was always my resort when I was at my wits' end, and so I
+went to her with a question: "Had she anything which would do for our
+caps?"
+
+"There must be something in my lower left-hand wardrobe drawer," said
+grandmamma, considering. "Thee may bring me a green bag, which thee will
+see in the far corner, and then we will talk about those caps in
+earnest."
+
+That wonderful green bag proved a sort of fairy find. There were
+remnants of mull, Swiss, jaconet and other fabrics--white, plain and
+barred. Grandmamma cut us a pattern. At four the seven girls were
+assembled in her room. Jeanie on a hassock at her feet, the remainder
+grouped as they chose.
+
+How our fingers flew! It was just a quarter to six when every cap was
+finished, and each girl had decided upon her special color. We hadn't
+the ribbon to make our bows, and were obliged to wait till somebody
+should go to the city to procure it; but each girl knew her favorite
+color, and that was a comfort. Linda Curtis chose blue, and I would wear
+rose-tints (my parents did not insist on my wearing Quaker gray, and I
+dressed like "the world's people"), Veva chose old gold, and each of the
+others had a preference.
+
+"You will look like a field of daisies and clover, dearies," said
+grandmamma.
+
+"There!" cried Jeanie. "Why not have a four-leaved clover as our badge?
+There isn't anything prettier."
+
+The four-leaved clover carried the day, though one or two did speak for
+the daisy, the maiden-hair fern and the pussy willow. All this was
+before the subject of the national flower had been agitated.
+
+"Where are my pupils?" Miss Muffet appeared promptly at the hour, and
+wore a most business-like air as she began her instructions. "Compressed
+yeast has found its way to Bloomdale, my dears," she said, "so that I
+shall not have to begin by telling you how to make yeast. That useful
+lesson may wait till another day. Before we do anything, I will give you
+some rules for good family bread, and you may write them down, if you
+please.
+
+"1. Always sift your flour thoroughly."
+
+Seven pencils wrote that rule in seven notebooks.
+
+"2. Mix the dough as soft as it can be handled. You must never have it
+too stiff.
+
+"3. Set it to rise in a moderately warm place.
+
+"4. You cannot knead bread too much. The more it is kneaded the firmer,
+sweeter and lighter it will be."
+
+When we had written this down Miss Muffet remarked:
+
+"Mrs. Deacon Ead's bread always takes the prize at the county fair. It
+looks like pound-cake. I don't want you girls to make flabby, porous
+bread, full of air-holes. I want you to learn how to knead it till it is
+just like an India-rubber cushion."
+
+"If the dough is soft won't it stick to our fingers?" said Marjorie,
+with a dainty little shiver.
+
+"Powder your hands very lightly with flour. That will keep the dough
+from sticking," said Miss Muffet, "and you will gain a knack after a
+while.
+
+"5. The oven must be steadily hot, but not too quick, for bread. Hold
+your hand in it while you count thirty, and it will be right for putting
+in your bread.
+
+"6. Grease your pans.
+
+"7. When taking bread from the oven loosen the loaves from the pans,
+stand them upright, and let them lean against something to keep them in
+that position. Cover them lightly with a cloth.
+
+"8. Do not put them away until they are cold."
+
+We all gathered about the table, but were disappointed that there was
+nothing for us to do except look on.
+
+She took two quarts of flour and sifted it thoroughly into a large
+wooden bowl. In one pint of tepid water she dissolved a
+half-tablespoonful of salt and half a yeast cake. Pouring this into a
+hollow in the middle of the flour she gradually drew the flour into it
+from all sides, working it with swift, light touches until it was a
+compact mass. She pounced and pulled and beat this till it was as smooth
+and round as a ball, dusted a little flour over it, covered it with a
+thick cloth and set it aside.
+
+"That is all that can be done to-night, girls," she said. "Be here every
+one of you at six in the morning, if Milly can be up so early. The bread
+will be ready then for another kneading. You must not overlook the fact,
+girls, that bread is not accommodating. It has to be attended to when
+the proper time comes, whether it is convenient for the maker or not. If
+neglected, it will be too light, or else heavy. Bread which is too light
+has a sour taste, and is just as unpalatable as that which is heavy,
+_i.e._, not raised enough, I mean."
+
+In the morning our bread had risen to the top of the bowl, and had
+cracks running in a criss-cross manner over its surface. Miss Muffet was
+the first one to appear on the scene. She gave us a lesson in kneading.
+Such patting and pounding, throwing over, tossing back and forth, as she
+gave that poor dough. But the dough must have enjoyed it, for it seemed
+to grow lighter every minute.
+
+After a full twenty minutes of this process the bread was set near the
+fire for a second rising. A half-hour passed. Miss Muffet took it in
+hand again, and again she pounced and patted, beat and pounded the
+helpless mass, this time dividing it into three small loaves, which she
+set near the fire for the final rising.
+
+"Bread is nicer made in little loaves," she told us. "More convenient
+for use on the table, easier to bake, and less likely to become dry."
+
+And now let me give you a receipt for Ingleside waffles. Mother
+considers these very good, and so do we girls who have tried them.
+
+"Make one pint of Indian meal into mush the usual way, which is by
+stirring the meal into boiling water and letting it boil until it is
+thick. While hot put in a small lump of butter and a dessertspoonful of
+salt. Set the mush aside to cool. Beat separately the whites and yolks
+of four eggs until very light; add the eggs to the mush, and cream in by
+degrees one quart of wheat flour; add half a pint of buttermilk or sour
+cream, in which you have dissolved a half-teaspoonful of bicarbonate of
+soda; add sweet milk enough to make a thin batter.
+
+"Have the waffle-irons hot. They should be heated in advance, not to
+keep the batter waiting. Butter them thoroughly and half fill them with
+the batter. Bake over a quick fire."
+
+I never eat waffles without thinking of a pleasant home where two girls
+and a boy who read this paper have good times every summer. They often
+go out on the bay for an afternoon sail, and come home in the rosy
+sunset in time for waffles. Waffles, with sugar and cream, are a very
+nice addition to a supper table.
+
+Another receipt of Miss Muffet's:
+
+_Delicious Corn Muffins._--One pint of corn meal sifted, one egg, one
+pint of sweet milk, a teaspoonful of butter, and half a teaspoonful of
+salt. Pour this mixture into muffin-rings and bake in a very quick oven.
+
+This receipt is one that mother sometimes uses on a cold winter evening
+when she has nothing else hot for supper. They are great favorites in
+our household.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+HOW TO SWEEP.
+
+
+In the first chapter of this story I spoke of the trouble housekeepers
+in Bloomdale had to get and keep good servants.
+
+We Clover Leaf girls made up our minds that we would learn to be
+independent. We resolved to know how to do every sort of housework, so
+that we might assist our mothers whenever they needed us, and be ready
+for any emergency as it came along.
+
+Aunt Hetty's daughter-in-law in Boston sent the poor old soul a letter
+which made her rather uneasy, and grandmamma thought that I might better
+let her go and pay Sally a visit while mother was away than to wait till
+her return.
+
+"The fall dressmaking and cleaning will be coming on then," said
+grandmother, "and thee will be busy with school again. So if Hetty takes
+her vacation now, she will be here to help the dear mother then."
+
+I agreed to this, for the chance of having the kitchen to myself was
+very tempting. The club was charmed; they said they would just live at
+our house and help me with all their might.
+
+"Then you won't have Hetty's moods to worry you," said Veva,
+consolingly.
+
+We had a good time. Nevertheless it was a happy day for me when Aunt
+Hetty, bag and baggage, came home a week sooner than she was expected.
+Nobody was looking for her; but the good old soul, having seen her
+relations, felt restless, and wanted to get home.
+
+"Somefin done tole me, honey," she said, "that Aunt Hetty am wanted
+hyar, and sure enuf it's so. Yo' pa an' ma off on dey trabbles, and
+nobody but one pore lamb lef' to take car' ob de house an' de ole madam.
+I wouldn't hab gone only for dat no-account Sal anyhow."
+
+I felt like a bird set free from a cage when Aunt Hetty appeared, and
+she came in the very nick of time, too, for that same day up rolled the
+stage, and out popped my great-aunt Jessamine (grandmamma's sister) from
+Philadelphia. The two old ladies had so much to tell one another that
+they had no need of me. So I went to the Downings', where the club was
+to hold a meeting, armed with brushes and brooms, taking a practical
+lesson in sweeping and dusting.
+
+The Downings were without a maid, and we all turned in to help them.
+Alice, Nell, and Clem, the older sisters, accepted our offer joyfully,
+though I think their mother had doubts of the wisdom of setting so many
+of us loose in her house at once. But Linda Curtis and Jeanie Cartwright
+found that they were not needed and went home; Veva had a music lesson
+and was excused; Linda's mamma had taken her off on a jaunt for the day;
+and Amy could not be spared from home. Only Lois and I were left to help
+Marjorie, and, on the principle that many hands make light work, we
+distributed ourselves about the house under the direction of the elder
+Downing sisters.
+
+Now, girls all, let me give you a hint which may save you lots of time
+and trouble. If sweeping and dusting are thoroughly done, they do not
+need to be done so very often. A room once put in perfect order,
+especially in a country village, where the houses stand like little
+islands in a sea of green grass, ought to stay clean a long time.
+
+It is very different in a city, where the dust flies in clouds an hour
+after a shower, and where the carts and wagons are constantly stirring
+it up. Give me the sweet, clean country.
+
+Mother's way is to carefully dust and wipe first with a damp and then
+with a dry cloth all the little articles of bric-a-brac, vases, small
+pictures, and curios, which we prize because they are pretty, after
+which she sets them in a closet or drawer quite out of the way. Then,
+with a soft cloth fastened over the broom, she has the walls wiped down,
+and with a hair brush which comes for the purpose she removes every
+speck of dust and cobweb from the cornices and corners. A knitted cover
+of soft lampwick over a broom is excellent for wiping a dusty or a
+papered wall.
+
+Next, all curtains which cannot be conveniently taken down are shaken
+well and pinned up out of the way. Shades are rolled to the top. Every
+chair and table is dusted, and carried out of the room which is about to
+be swept. If there are books, they are dusted and removed, or if they
+are arranged on open shelves, they are first dusted and then carefully
+covered.
+
+Mother's way is to keep a number of covers of old calico, for the
+purpose of saving large pieces of furniture, shelves and such things,
+which cannot be removed from their places on sweeping days.
+
+It is easier, she says, to protect these articles than to remove the
+dust when it has once lodged in carvings and mouldings.
+
+We girls made a frolic of our dusting, but we did it beautifully too. I
+suppose you have all noticed what a difference it makes in work whether
+you go at it cheerfully or go at it as a task that you hate. If you keep
+thinking how hard it is, and wishing you had somebody else to do it for
+you, and fretting and fuming, and pitying yourself, you are sure to have
+a horrid time. But if you take hold of a thing in earnest and call it
+fun, you don't get half so tired.
+
+In sweeping take long light strokes, and do not use too heavy a broom.
+
+"Milly," said Lois, "do you honestly think sweeping is harder exercise
+than playing tennis or golf?"
+
+I hesitated. "I really don't know. One never thinks of hard or easy in
+any games out of doors; the air is so invigorating, they have a great
+advantage over house work in that way."
+
+"Well, for my part," said Marjorie, "I like doing work that tells. There
+is so much satisfaction in seeing the figures in the carpet come out
+brightly under my broom. Alice, what did you do to make your
+reception-room so perfectly splendiferous? Girls, look here! You'd think
+this carpet had just come out of the warehouse."
+
+"Mother often tells Aunt Hetty," said I, "to dip the end of the broom in
+a pail of water in which she has poured a little ammonia--a teaspoonful
+to a gallon. The ammonia takes off the dust, and refreshes the colors
+wonderfully. We couldn't keep house without it," I finished, rather
+proudly.
+
+"Did you bring some from home?" asked Marjorie, looking hurt.
+
+"Why, of course not! I asked your mother, and she gave me the bottle,
+and told me to take what I wanted."
+
+"A little coarse salt or some damp tea-leaves strewed over a carpet
+before sweeping adds ease to the cleansing process," said Mrs. Downing,
+appearing on the scene and praising us for our thoroughness. "The reason
+is that both the salt and the tea-leaves being moist keep down the light
+floating dust, which gives more trouble than the heavier dirt. But now
+you will all be better for a short rest; so come into my snuggery, and
+have a gossip and a lunch, and then you may attack the enemy again."
+
+"Mrs. Downing, you are a darling," exclaimed Lois, as we saw a platter
+of delicate sandwiches, and another of crisp ginger cookies, with a
+great pitcher of milk. "We didn't know that we were hungry; but now that
+I think about it, I, for one, am certain that I could not have lived
+much longer without something to supply the waste of my failing cellular
+tissue."
+
+"I think," replied Mrs. Downing, "that we would often feel much better
+for stopping in our day's work to take a little rest. I often pause in
+the middle of my morning's work and lie down for a half-hour, or I send
+to the kitchen and have a glass of hot milk brought me, with a crust or
+a cracker. You girls would not wish to lie down, but you would often
+find that you felt much fresher if you just stopped and rested, or put
+on your jackets and hats and ran away for a breath of out-door air. You
+would come back to your work like new beings."
+
+"Just as we did in school after recess," said Marjorie.
+
+"Precisely. Change of employment is the best tonic."
+
+Our luncheon over, and our rooms swept, rugs shaken, stairs and passages
+thoroughly brushed and wiped, we polished the windows with cloths dipped
+in ammonia water and wrung out, and followed them by a dry rubbing with
+soft linen cloths. Then it was time to restore the furniture to its
+place, and bring out the ornaments again from their seclusion.
+
+Now we saw what an advantage we had gained in having prepared these
+before we began the campaign. In a very little while the work was done
+and the house settled, and so spotless and speckless we felt sure it
+would keep clean for weeks.
+
+Mother's way is to use a patent sweeper daily in rooms which are
+occupied for sewing and other work, and she says that she does not find
+it necessary to give her rooms more than a light sweeping oftener than
+once in six weeks. Of course it would be different if we had a large
+family.
+
+Paint should be wiped, door-knobs polished, and a touch of the duster
+given to everything on these sweeping days.
+
+The Clover Leaves voted that feather-dusters, as a rule, were a
+delusion. One often sees a girl, who looks very complacent as she
+flirts a feather-duster over a parlor, displacing the dust so that it
+may settle somewhere else. All dusted articles should be wiped off, and
+the dust itself gotten rid of, by taking it out of the house, and
+leaving it no chance to get back on that day at least.
+
+When I reached home in time for our one o'clock dinner, I found
+Great-aunt Jessamine and grandmamma both waiting for me, and the former,
+who was a jolly little old lady, was quite delighted over the Bloomdale
+girls and their housekeeping.
+
+"All is," she said, "will those Downings do as well when there are no
+other girls to make them think the work is play?"
+
+"Oh!" answered grandmamma, "I never trouble my head about what folks
+will do in the future. I have enough to do looking after what they do in
+the present. Alice here gets along very well all by herself a great part
+of the time. By-the-way, child, did Aunt Hetty give thee mother's
+letter?"
+
+I rushed off to get my treasure. It would soon be the blessed day when I
+might expect a letter telling me when my father and mother would be at
+home again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+A LITTLE OF EVERYTHING.
+
+
+Just as I began to be a wee little bit tired of housework, and to feel
+that I would like nothing so much as a day with my birds, my fancy-work,
+and a charming story-book, what should happen but that grandmamma's
+headache and Aunt Hetty's "misery in her bones" should both come at
+once.
+
+Tap, tap, tap on the floor above my head in the early dawn came
+grandmamma's ebony stick.
+
+Veva Fay and Marjorie Downing were both spending the night with me. Veva
+had slept on the wide, old-fashioned lounge in the corner, and Marjorie
+in the broad couch with me, and we had all talked till it was very late,
+as girls always do when they sleep in one room, unless, of course, they
+are sisters, or at school, and used to it.
+
+I had a beautiful room. It ran half across the front of the house, and
+had four great windows, a big fire-place, filled in summer with branches
+of cedar, or bunches of ferns, growing in a low box, and filling the
+great space with cool green shade, and in winter the delight of the
+girls, because of the famous hickory fires which blazed there, always
+ready to light at a touch.
+
+In one corner stood my mahogany desk, above it a lovely picture of the
+Madonna and Child. Easy-chairs were standing around, and there were
+hassocks and ottomans in corners and beside the windows. My favorite
+engraving--a picture representing two children straying near a
+precipice, fearing no danger, and just ready to fall, when behind them,
+sweeping softly down, comes their guardian angel--hung over the mantel.
+
+How much pleasure I took in that room, in the book shelves always full,
+in the pretty rugs and the cool matting and the dainty drapery, all
+girls can imagine. It was my own Snuggery, and I kept it in the
+loveliest good order, as mother liked me to.
+
+Tap, tap, tap.
+
+"Goodness!" cried Veva, only half awake.
+
+"What is that? Mice?" said Marjorie, timidly.
+
+"Burglars!" exclaimed Veva.
+
+"Hush, girls!" I said, shaking off my drowsiness. "It's poor grandmamma,
+and she has one of her fearfulest headaches. It's two weeks since she
+had the last, so one may be expected about now. The tap means, 'Come to
+me, quickly.'"
+
+I ran to the door, and said, "Coming, grandmamma!" slipped my feet into
+my soft knitted shoes, and hurried my gray flannel wrapper on, then
+hastened to her bedside. I found that grandmamma was not so very ill,
+only felt unable to get up to breakfast with us, and wanted some gruel
+made as soon as possible.
+
+"I've been waiting to hear some stir in the house," she said, "but
+nobody seemed to be awake. Isn't it later than usual, girlie?"
+
+I tiptoed over to grandmamma's mantel, and looked at her little French
+clock. It _was_ late! Eight, and past, and Hetty had not called us. What
+could be the matter?
+
+Down I flew to find out what ailed Aunt Hetty. She was usually an early
+riser.
+
+Before I reached her room, which was on the same floor with the kitchen,
+I heard groans issuing from it, and Hetty's voice saying: "Dear me! Oh,
+dear me!" in the most despairing, agonizing tones. Hetty always makes
+the most of a "misery in her bones."
+
+"What is it, aunty?" I asked, peering into the room, which she _would_
+keep as dark as a pocket.
+
+"De misery in my bones, child! De ole king chills! Sometimes I'm up!
+Sometimes I'm down!"
+
+The bed shook under the poor thing, and I ran out to ask Patrick to go
+for the doctor, while I made the fire, and called the girls to help
+prepare breakfast.
+
+First in order after lighting the fire, which being of wood blazed up
+directly that the match was applied to the kindlings, came the making of
+the corn-meal gruel.
+
+A tablespoonful of corn meal wet with six tablespoonfuls of milk, added
+one by one, gradually, so that the meal is quite free from lumps. One
+pint of boiling water, and a little salt. You must stir the smooth
+mixture of the meal and milk into the boiling water. It will cool it a
+little, and you must stir it until it comes to a boil, then stand it
+back, and let it simmer fifteen minutes.
+
+The doctor was caught by Patrick just leaving his house to go to a
+patient ten miles off. He prescribed for Aunt Hetty, looked in upon
+grandmamma, and told me to keep up my courage, I was a capital little
+nurse, and he would rather have me to take care of him than anybody else
+he knew, if he were ill, which he never was.
+
+He drove off in his old buggy, leaving three little maids watching him
+with admiring eyes. We all loved Doctor Chester. "Now, girls," I said,
+"we must get our breakfast. We cannot live on air."
+
+Marjorie brought the eggs and milk. Veva cut the bread and picked the
+blackberries. I put the pan on to heat for the omelette, and this is the
+way we made it:
+
+Three eggs, broken separately and beaten hard--
+
+    "In making an omelette,
+      Children, you see,
+    The longer you beat it,
+      The lighter 'twill be,"
+
+hummed Marjorie, add a teaspoonful of milk, and beat up with the eggs;
+beat until the very last moment when you pour into the pan, in which you
+have dropped a bit of butter, over the hot fire. As soon as it sets,
+move the pan to a cooler part of the stove, and slip a knife under the
+edge to prevent its sticking to the pan; when it is almost firm in the
+middle, slant the pan a little, slip your knife all the way round the
+edge to get it free, then tip it over in such a way that it will fold as
+it falls on the plate.
+
+You should serve an omelette on a hot plate, and it requires a little
+dexterity to learn how to take it out neatly.
+
+Veva exclaimed, "Oh, Milly, you forgot the salt!"
+
+"No," I explained; "French cooks declare that salt should never be mixed
+with eggs when they are prepared for omelette. It makes the omelette
+tough and leathery. A little salt, however, may be sprinkled upon it
+just before it is turned out upon the dish."
+
+Here is another receipt, which Jeanie copied out of her mother's book:
+
+"Six eggs beaten separately, a cup of milk, a teaspoonful of corn-starch
+mixed smoothly in a little of the milk, a tablespoonful of melted
+butter, a dash of pepper, and a sprinkle of salt. Beat well together,
+the yolks of the eggs only being used in this mixture. When thoroughly
+beaten add the foaming whites and set in a very quick oven."
+
+It will rise up as light as a golden puff ball, but it must not be used
+in a family who have a habit of coming late to breakfast, because, if
+allowed to stand, this particular omelette grows presently as flat as a
+flounder.
+
+After breakfast came the task of washing the dishes. Is there anything
+which girls detest as they do this everyday work? Every day? Three times
+a day, at least, it must be done in most houses, and somebody must do
+it.
+
+Veva said: "I'd like to throw the dishes away after every meal. If a
+fairy would offer _me_ three wishes the first one I'd make would be
+never to touch a dishcloth again so long as I lived."
+
+"Oh, Veva!" exclaimed Marjorie. "Think of the lovely china the Enderbys
+have, and the glass which came to Mrs. Curtis from her
+great-grandmother. Would you like a piece of that to be broken if it
+were yours?"
+
+"No-o-o!" acknowledged Veva. "But our dishes are not so sacred, and our
+Bridgets break them regularly. We are always having to buy new ones as
+it is. Mamma groans, and sister Constance sighs, and Aunt Ernie scolds,
+but the dishes go."
+
+"Mother thinks that the old-fashioned gentlewomen, who used to wash the
+breakfast things themselves, were very sensible and womanly."
+
+Eva shrugged her plump shoulders, but took a towel to wipe the silver. I
+had gathered up the dishes, and taken my own way of going about this
+piece of work.
+
+First I took a pan of hot water in which I had dissolved a bit of soap,
+and I attacked the disagreeable things--the saucepans and broilers and
+pots and pans. They are very useful, but they are not ornamental. All
+nice housekeepers are very particular to cleanse them thoroughly,
+removing every speck of grease from both the outside and the inside, and
+drying them until they shine.
+
+It isn't worth while to ruin your hands or make them coarse and rough
+when washing pots and pans. I use a mop, and do not put my hands into
+the hot, greasy water. Mother says one may do housework and look like a
+lady if she has common sense.
+
+I finished the pots and pans and set my cups and saucers in a row, my
+plates scraped and piled together, my silver in the large china bowl,
+and my glasses were all ready for the next step. I had two pans, one
+half-filled with soapy, the other with clear water, and having given my
+dainty dishes a bath in the first I treated them to a dip in the
+second, afterward letting them drain for a moment on the tray at my
+right hand. Veva and Marjorie wiped the silver and glass with the soft
+linen towels which are kept for these only; next I took my plates, then
+the platters, and finally the knives. Just as we finished the last dish
+I heard grandmother's tap, tap on the floor over my head.
+
+There's an art in everything, even in washing dishes. I fancy one might
+grow fond of it, if only one took an interest in always doing it well.
+
+Perhaps it is because my parents are Friends, and I have been taught
+that it is foolish to be flurried and flustered and to hurry over any
+work, but I do think that one gets along much faster when one does not
+make too much haste.
+
+I do hope I may always act just as mother does, she is so sweet and
+peaceful, never cross, never worried. Now, dear grandmamma is much more
+easily vexed. But then she is older and she has the Van Doren headaches.
+
+Tap, tap came the call of the ebony stick. I ran up to grandmamma's
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+A CANDY PULL.
+
+
+Of all things in the world, what should grandmamma propose but my
+sending for Miss Muffet! Great-aunt Jessamine had gone away long before.
+
+"I believe it was to-day that the girls meant to have the candy pull at
+Jeanie's, wasn't it?" grandmamma asked.
+
+"Yes, darling grandmamma," I said, "they may have it; but I am not going
+to desert you."
+
+"Thee is very kind, dearie," replied grandmamma; "but I need only quiet,
+and Hetty will come out of her attack just as well without thee as with
+thee. I particularly wish that thee would go. How is thee to have the
+fair unless thee has the candy pull? The time is passing, too. It will
+soon be school and lessons again."
+
+So, at grandmamma's urging, I went for Miss Muffet. The little woman
+came without much delay, and took hold, as she expressed it, looking
+after both our invalids; and in the meantime telling me how to broil a
+steak for my grandmamma's and our own dinner, and how to fry potatoes so
+that they should not be soaked with grease.
+
+A girl I know gained a set of Dickens' works by broiling a steak so as
+to please her father, who was a fastidious gentleman, and said he
+wanted it neither overdone nor underdone, but just right.
+
+For broiling you need a thick steak, a clear fire, and a clean gridiron.
+Never try to broil meat over a blaze. You must have a bed of coals, with
+a steady heat. The steak must not be salted until you have turned each
+side to the fire; and it must be turned a good many times and cooked
+evenly. It will take from five to seven minutes to broil it properly,
+and it will then have all the juices in, and be fit for a king.
+
+I don't know that kings have any better food than other gentlemen, but
+one always supposes that they will have the very best.
+
+A steak may be cooked very appetizingly in the frying pan; but the pan
+must be very hot, and have no grease in it. Enough of that will ooze
+from the fat of the steak to keep it from sticking fast. A good steak
+cooked in a cold frying-pan and simmering in grease is an abomination.
+So declares Miss Muffet, and all epicures with her.
+
+To fry potatoes or croquettes or any other thing well, one must have
+plenty of lard or butter or beef drippings, as she prefers, and let it
+boil. It should bubble up in the saucepan, and there should be enough of
+it to cover the wire basket in which the delicately sliced potatoes are
+laid--a few at time--to cook. They will not absorb fat, because the
+heat, when the first touch of it is given, will form a tight skin over
+them, and the grease cannot pierce this. They will be daintily brown,
+firm and dry.
+
+But this isn't telling of our candy pull.
+
+We had set our hearts on having fun and doing good--killing two birds
+with one stone, as Al Fay said. But I do not approve of that proverb,
+for certainly no _girl_ ever wishes to kill a bird; no more does a
+decent boy think of such a thing.
+
+We resolved to have a fair and to sell candy at it, making every bit
+ourselves.
+
+Therefore we had sent out some invitations to girls not of the club, and
+to some of the nicest boys. They were as follows:
+
+     The Clover Leaf Club of Bloomdale requests the pleasure of your
+     company at the house of Miss Jeanie Cartwright, on Friday evening,
+     September 8, at eight o'clock. Candy pull.
+
+                                                MILLY VAN DOREN,
+                                                     _President._
+
+     LOIS PARTRIDGE,
+         _Secretary._
+
+I had my doubts all day as to whether it would be right for me to go;
+but about four o'clock Aunt Hetty, looking as well as ever, came out of
+her room in a stiffly starched gingham gown, and proceeded to cook for
+herself a rasher of bacon and some eggs. Grandmamma was up and reading
+one of her favorite books; and Miss Muffett, who had stepped over to her
+house to attend to her sister and the parrot, came back declaring her
+intention to stay all night.
+
+"So, my darling child, you may go, and welcome."
+
+Away went my doubts and fears, and I tripped merrily down the street to
+Jeanie's, feeling the happier for a letter from mother, which I found at
+the post office.
+
+Our candy was to be sold for a cent a stick, but the sticks were not
+scanty little snips by any means. Mrs. Cartwright made us a present of
+the molasses, Lois brought the sugar from home, Al Fay brought the
+saleratus, Patty remembered about the vinegar, and Marjorie produced the
+butter.
+
+These were the ingredients: a half-gallon of New Orleans molasses, a cup
+of vinegar, a piece of butter as large as two eggs, a good teaspoonful
+of saleratus dissolved in hot water.
+
+We melted the sugar in the vinegar, stirred it into the molasses, and
+let it come to the boil, stirring steadily. The boys took turns at this
+work.
+
+When the syrup began to thicken we dropped in the saleratus, which makes
+it clear; then flouring our hands, each took a position, and pulled it
+till it was white.
+
+The longer we pulled, the whiter it grew. We ate some of it, but we
+girls were quite firm in saving half for our sale.
+
+Then we made maple-sugar caramels. Have you ever tried them? They are
+splendid. You must have maple sugar to begin with; real sugar from the
+trees in Vermont if you can get it. You will need a deep saucepan. Then
+into a quart of fresh sweet milk break two pounds of sugar. Set it over
+the fire. As the sugar melts, it will expand. Boil, boil, boil, stir,
+stir, stir. Never mind if your face grows hot. One cannot make candy
+sitting in a rocking-chair with a fan. One doesn't calculate to, as
+Great-aunt Jessamine always says.
+
+The way to test it when you _think_ it is done is to drop a portion in
+cold water. If brittle enough to break, it is done. Pour into square
+buttered pans, and mark off while soft into little squares with a knife.
+
+Some people like cream candy. It is made in this way: three large
+cupfuls of loaf-sugar, six tablespoonfuls of water. Boil, without
+stirring, in a bright tin pan until it will crisp in water like molasses
+candy. Flavor it with essence of lemon or vanilla; just before it is
+done, add one teaspoonful of cream of tartar. Powder your hands with
+flour, and pull it until it is perfectly white.
+
+_Plain Caramels_.--One pound of brown sugar, a quarter of a pound of
+chocolate, one pint of cream, one teaspoonful of butter, two
+tablespoonfuls of molasses. Boil for thirty minutes, stirring all the
+time; test by dropping into cold water. Flavor with vanilla, and mark
+off as you do the maple caramels.
+
+Home-made candy is sure to be of good materials, and will seldom be
+harmful unless the eater takes a great quantity. Then the pleasure of
+making it counts for something.
+
+Our little fair was held the day after the candy pull, and the boys put
+up a tent for us in Colonel Fay's grounds. Admission to the tent was
+five cents. We sold candy, cake, ice-cream, and--home-made bread, and
+our gains were nineteen dollars and ten cents. There were an apron
+table, and a table where we sold pin-cushions and pen-wipers; but our
+real profits came from the bread, which the girls' fathers were so proud
+of that they bought it at a dollar a loaf. With the money which came
+from the fair, we sent two little girls, Dot and Dimpsie, our poorest
+children in Bloomdale, where most people were quite comfortably off, to
+the seaside for three whole weeks.
+
+I do not know what we would have done in Bloomdale if Dot and Dimpsie
+had not had a father who would rather go off fishing, or lounge in the
+sun telling stories, than support his family. Everybody disapproved of
+Jack Roper, but everybody liked his patient little wife and his two dear
+little girls, and we all helped them on.
+
+There was no excuse for Jack. He was a tall, strong man, a good hunter,
+fisher and climber, a sailor whenever he could get the chance to go off
+on a cruise; but he would not work steadily. He did not drink, or swear,
+or abuse his wife; but he did not support her, and if people called him
+Shiftless Jack, he only laughed.
+
+As he was the only person in Bloomdale who behaved in this way, we did
+what mother calls condoning his offences--we called on him for odd jobs
+of repairing and for errands and extra work, such as lighting fires and
+carrying coals in winter, shoveling snow and breaking paths, weeding
+gardens in summer, and gathering apples in the fall. We girls determined
+to take care of Dot and Dimpsie, and help Mrs. Roper along.
+
+They were two dear little things, and Mrs. Roper was very glad of our
+assistance.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+KEEPING ACCOUNTS.
+
+
+Mother's way in one particular is different from that of some other
+people. Veva Fay and Lois Partridge never have any money of their own.
+They always ask their parents for what they want. If Lois' papa is in a
+happy frame of mind, he will give her a five-dollar gold piece, and say:
+"There, go along, little girl, and buy as many bonbons as you please.
+When that's gone, you know where to come for more."
+
+If he happens to be tired, or if something in the city has gone wrong
+that day, he will very likely meet her modest request with a "Don't
+bother me, child! I won't encourage your growing up in foolish
+extravagance."
+
+Veva's father and mother make such a pet of her that they cannot bear to
+deny her anything, and she will often order pretty things when she goes
+to town, and is out walking with her cousins, just because they are
+pretty, and not because she has any real use for them. If there were any
+beggars here, Veva would empty that little silken purse of hers every
+time she saw them, but the club has forbidden her to spoil Dot and
+Dimpsie in that way. And she is too much of a lady to outshine the rest
+of us.
+
+Mother and father both believe in keeping an exact account of expenses.
+Money is a great trust, and we must use it with care. Economy, which
+some people suppose to be another name for saving, is a beautiful
+picture word which signifies to guide the house. Mother thinks economy
+cannot be learned in a day. So when I was little she began by giving me
+ten cents every Saturday morning. At the same time she put in my hand a
+little book and a pencil.
+
+"See, daughter," she said, "thee is to set thy ten cents down on one
+page, and that will show how much thee has to spend. On the other thee
+is to put down the penny given in church, the penny for taffy, for
+fines."
+
+For fines? What could she mean?
+
+Well, perhaps you will laugh; but my mother's way is never to let a
+child in her care use slang, or slam doors, or leave things lying about
+in wrong places, or speak unkindly of the absent. Half a cent had to be
+paid every time I did any of these things, and I kept my own account of
+them, and punished myself. I always knew when I had violated one of
+mother's golden rules by her grieved look, or father's surprised one, or
+by a little prick from my conscience.
+
+"And what was done with the fines?" asked Jeanie, when I told her of
+this plan.
+
+"Oh, they went into our hospital fund, and twice a year--at midsummer
+and Christmas--they were sent away to help some good Sisters who spent
+their lives in looking after poor little cripples, or blind children, or
+who went about in tenements to care for the old and sick."
+
+At every week's end I had to bring my book to mother, add up what I had
+spent, and subtract the amount from my original sum. If both were the
+same, it was all right. If I had spent less than I received last
+Saturday, then there was a balance in my favor, and something was there
+all ready to add to my new ten cents. But if I had gone into debt, or
+fallen short, or borrowed from anybody, mother was much displeased.
+
+As I grew older my allowance was increased, until now I buy my gowns and
+hats, give presents out of my own money, and have a little sum in the
+savings-bank.
+
+My housekeeping account while mother was absent was quite separate from
+any other of my own. Mother handed me the housekeeping books and the
+housekeeping money, with the keys, and left me responsible.
+
+"Thee knows, Milly love," she said, "that I never have bills. I pay
+everybody each week. Thee must do the same. And always put down the
+day's expenses at the end of the day. Then nothing will be forgotten."
+
+At the close of the year mother knows where every penny of hers has
+gone. Even to the value of a postage-stamp or a postal-card.
+
+As the Clover Leaf Club girls were not all so fortunate as I in having
+an allowance, they took less interest in learning how to shop.
+
+There are two ways of shopping. One is to set out without a very
+definite idea of what you wish to buy, and to buy what you do not want,
+if the shopman persuades you to do so, or it pleases your fancy.
+
+The other is to make a list of articles before you leave home,
+something like this: Nine yards of merino for gown; three yards of
+silesia; two spools of cotton, Nos. 30 and 50; one spool of twist; one
+dozen crochet buttons; a dozen fine napkins and a lunch cloth; five
+yards of blue ribbon one inch wide; a paper of pins; a bottle of
+perfumery; five-eighths of a yard of ruching for the neck.
+
+Provided with such a memorandum, the person who has her shopping to do
+will save time by dividing her articles into classes. The linen goods
+will probably be near together in the shop, and she will buy them first;
+then going to the counters where dress goods are kept, she will choose
+her gown and whatever belongs to it; the thread, pins, twist and other
+little articles will come next; and last, her ruching and ribbon.
+
+She will have accomplished without any trouble, fuss, or loss of temper
+what would have wearied an unsystematic girl who has never learned how
+to shop.
+
+Then, before she set out, she would have known very nearly how much she
+could afford to spend--that is, she would have known if _my_ mother's
+way had been her mother's--and on no account would she have spent more
+than she had allowed herself in thinking it over at home.
+
+When the club undertook charge of all Dot's and Dimpsie's expenses, it
+was rather a puzzle to some of us to know how we were to pay our share.
+I set apart something from my allowance. Lois watched for her papa's
+pleasant moods. Veva danced up to her father, put her arms around his
+neck, and lifted her mouth for a kiss, coaxed him for some money to give
+away, which she always received directly. Others of the girls were at a
+loss what to do.
+
+Jeanie and Linda had a happy thought, which they carried out. They said:
+"We have learned how to make bread and biscuits and cake and candy, and
+we all know how often our friends cannot persuade cooks to stay in their
+houses. We will make bread or cake on Saturday mornings for anybody who
+is good enough to pay for it."
+
+They could not see why it was not just as sensible a thing to make and
+sell good bread as to paint scarfs or embroider tidies, and mother,
+after she heard of their proposal, quite agreed with them.
+
+Through our efforts, combined as they were, we sent our little girls to
+Kindergarten, kept warm shoes and stockings on their feet, and brought
+them up respectably, though Jack Roper was as odd and indolent as ever,
+and never showed by so much as a look that he imagined anybody took an
+interest in his children.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+WE GIVE A RECEPTION.
+
+
+Everything pleasant comes to an end, even pleasant vacations, and when
+the golden-rods were bowing to the asters, like gallant knights to their
+ladyloves, and the red sumachs were hanging out the first flags of
+autumn, we girls had to think of school once more.
+
+The books which had been closed for almost three months beckoned us
+again, and delightful as the Clover Leaf meetings had grown, we knew
+that for the next nine months we should hold them only on Saturdays,
+perhaps not always then.
+
+"Girls," said Linda Curtis, "what shall we do for a wind-up to the
+summer? Something which has never been done in Bloomdale. Something
+which will be remembered when we are grown up and have forgotten our
+girlish pranks?"
+
+Linda's suggestion was approved unanimously, but nobody could propose
+anything which everybody liked.
+
+Finally Jeanie and Amy, who had been putting their heads together, and
+whispering until the Chair had to call them to order, showed by their
+smiling faces that they had a bright idea.
+
+"Miss President," said Jeanie, "if I may, I should like to make a
+motion."
+
+"Miss Cartwright has the floor," said the President, gravely.
+
+"I move that the Bloomdale Clover Leaf Club give a reception in the
+Academy to all the Bloomdale neighbors and friends, _with a programme_,
+and refreshments afterward."
+
+"Is the motion seconded?" inquired the President.
+
+"I second the motion," exclaimed Miss Amy Pierce, rapturously.
+
+"It is moved and seconded that we give a reception at the Academy, with
+a programme and refreshments. Are there any remarks?"
+
+I should think there were. Why, they flew about like snow-flakes in a
+hurricane.
+
+"Why in the Academy?"
+
+"Why not in somebody's parlor?"
+
+"What sort of a programme?"
+
+"Tableaux would be splendid!"
+
+"Not tableaux! Charades?"
+
+"Why not have a little play? That would be best, and we could all act."
+
+"What sort of refreshments? A regular supper, or lemonade and cake, or
+cake and ice-cream?"
+
+At last it was resolved to carry out the reception idea, and to have a
+little play in which Dot and Dimpsie could be brought in, also a very
+magnificent Maltese cat belonging to Patty Curtis, and Miss Muffet's
+parrot. The cat, arrayed in a lace ruff, with a red ribbon, would be an
+imposing figure, and the parrot would look well as one of the
+properties. Miss Muffet herself, in some character, probably as a Yankee
+school-mistress, must be persuaded to appear.
+
+Well, you may imagine what a flutter we were in! We trimmed the old
+Academy with ferns and running pine and great wreaths of golden-rod,
+while feathery clematis was looped and festooned over the windows and
+around the portraits of former teachers, which adorned the walls.
+
+Our play was written for us by Mr. Robert Pierce, Amy's brother, who
+goes to Harvard, and he brought in both our pets, and the cat and
+parrot, and had in ever so many hits which Bloomdale folks could enjoy,
+knowing all about them.
+
+The only thing which interfered with my pleasure was that mother was not
+here, and I had expected her home. I nearly cried into the lemonade, and
+almost blistered the icing of the pound-cake with tears; but seeing
+grandmamma gaze at me with a whole exclamation point in her eyes, I gave
+myself a mental shake, and said, not aloud, but in my mind: "Don't be a
+baby, Milly Van Doren! A big girl like you! Be good! There, now!"
+
+But I was not the most unhappy girl when, just after my part in the
+play was over, I heard a little movement in the audience, and saw a
+stirring as of surprise at the other end of the room.
+
+Who was that? A sweet face in a Quaker bonnet, a white kerchief folded
+primly over a gown of dove-colored satin, a pure plain dress, looking
+very distinguished, for all its simplicity, among the gay toilet of the
+"world's people."
+
+Surely, no--yes, it was, it could be no one but mother!
+
+I threaded my way through the crowded aisles, gentlemen and ladies
+opening a path for me, and before everybody I was clasped in her dear
+arms. And there was father smiling down at me, and saying, as mother
+told me, to be composed, for I was half crying, half laughing: "Of
+course she'll be composed. I have always said thee could trust our
+little lass."
+
+I squeezed myself into a seat between the two darlings, forgetful that I
+was the President of the Clover Leaf Club; and there I sat till the play
+was over, when something happened that was not on the programme.
+
+A tall shabby form advanced to the front of the room, and mounted the
+stage.
+
+It was Jack Roper! We held our breath. What did this mean?
+
+"I want, fellow-townsmen and ladies," said Jack, with the utmost
+coolness, "to return thanks to the Clover Leaf young ladies for the good
+example they've been a settin' our wives and darters. Them girls is
+trumps!"
+
+Down sat Jack in a storm of applause. This speech, if not elegant, was
+at least sincere.
+
+He was followed by a very different personage. No less a man than Judge
+Curtis arose and gave us a little address, after which Amy Pierce and
+Lois Partridge played a duet on the piano.
+
+Then the refreshments were distributed. There was a merry time talking
+and laughing over the feast, and we all went home. Miss Muffet looked
+radiant, she had so many compliments, and Aunt Hetty, who appeared in
+her stiffest calico, was not backward in accepting some for herself.
+Though what she had done, except try my patience, it was puzzling to us
+to tell.
+
+My precious mother had the very prettiest surprise of all for us when
+her trunks were opened. It is her way to make people happy, and she goes
+through the world like an angel.
+
+For every girl in the club she had brought home a silver pin in the
+shape of a four-leaved clover. "Whether you keep up the club or not,"
+she said, "it will be a pretty souvenir of a very happy summer."
+
+I don't know whether I have made mother's way plain to all my readers,
+but I hope they see it is a way of taking pains, of being kind, of being
+honest and diligent, and never doing with one hand what ought to be done
+with both. If I learn to keep house in mother's way I shall be perfectly
+satisfied.
+
+Father says: "Thee certainly may, dear child! For my part, I trust my
+little lass."
+
+
+
+
+    The Lighthouse Lamp.
+
+    BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+    The winds came howling down from the north,
+      Like a hungry wolf for prey,
+    And the bitter sleet went hurtling forth,
+      In the pallid face of the day.
+
+    And the snowflakes drifted near and far,
+      Till the land was whitely fleeced,
+    And the light-house lamp, a golden star,
+      Flamed over the waves' white yeast.
+
+    In the room at the foot of the light-house
+      Lay mother and babe asleep,
+    And little maid Gretchen was by them there,
+      A resolute watch to keep.
+
+    There were only the three on the light-house isle,
+      But father had trimmed the lamp,
+    And set it burning a weary while
+      In the morning's dusk and damp.
+
+    "Long before night I'll be back," he said,
+      And his white sail slipped away;
+    Away and away to the mainland sped,
+      But it came not home that day.
+
+    The mother stirred on her pillow's space,
+      And moaned in pain and fear,
+    Then looked in her little daughter's face
+      Through the blur of a starting tear.
+
+    "Darling," she whispered, "it's piercing cold,
+      And the tempest is rough and wild;
+    And you are no laddie strong and bold,
+      My poor little maiden child.
+
+    "But up aloft there's the lamp to feed,
+      Or its flame will die in the dark,
+    And the sailor lose in his utmost need
+      The light of our islet's ark."
+
+    "I'll go," said Gretchen, "a step at a time;
+      Why, mother, I'm twelve years old,
+    And steady, and never afraid to climb,
+      And I've learned to do as I'm told."
+
+    Then Gretchen up to the top of the tower,
+      Up the icy, smooth-worn stair,
+    Went slowly and surely that very hour,
+      The sleet in her eyes and hair.
+
+    She fed the lamp, and she trimmed it well,
+      And its clear light glowed afar,
+    To warn of reefs, and of rocks to tell,
+      This mariner's guiding star.
+
+    And once again when the world awoke
+      In the dawn of a bright new day,
+    There was joy in the hearts of the fisher folks
+      Along the stormy bay.
+
+    When the little boats came sailing in
+      All safe and sound to the land,
+    _To the haven the light had helped them win,
+      By the aid of a child's brave hand._
+
+
+
+
+The Family Mail-bag.
+
+BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.
+
+
+The family mail-bag was made of black and white straw arranged in
+checks. It was flat and nearly square, was lined with gray linen and
+fastened at the top with narrow black ribbon. It had two long handles,
+finely made of straw, and these handles Luella and Francis were
+accustomed to grasp when, twice a day regularly, at half-past eight in
+the morning and at half-past three in the afternoon, they went for the
+family mail.
+
+Their instructions were always to go back and forth to the post-office
+without stopping, always to tie the bag securely after putting the mail
+inside, and never to open it after it was thus fastened. They were to
+take turns in carrying the bag, and upon returning to their home were
+always to take it at once to the study of their father, Rev. Mr.
+Robinson.
+
+So important a personage as a public mail-carrier had never been seen in
+the small village in which they lived. In his absence the two children
+performed their service well. At least they always did excepting on one
+unfortunate day, and that is the day of which our story is to tell.
+
+The children went to the office as usual, and were quite delighted at
+finding there a registered letter addressed to "Luella and Francis
+Robinson." Luella felt very proud when the postmaster asked her, as the
+elder, to sign the registered receipt.
+
+"What's that for?" asked Francis.
+
+"It's for proof that you've received the letter. You see that a
+registered letter usually contains something valuable."
+
+"I wonder what it can be? It's from Aunt Maria. See, her address is
+written on the side of the envelope?"
+
+"Yes," said the postmaster, who was a very good friend of the children.
+"It's certainly from your aunt, and it probably contains something for
+you both, but, you'd better put it in your bag now and tie it up,
+according to your father's wish."
+
+The children obediently acted upon this suggestion and started for home.
+On their way they talked constantly of their letter, trying vainly to
+guess what it might contain.
+
+"It's something small, anyway," said Luella, "for it doesn't seem to
+take any room."
+
+"Maybe 'tisn't anything, after all," said Francis.
+
+"Oh, yes, it is; for the letter is registered, you know."
+
+So they went on talking and wondering until they had gone about half the
+distance toward home. Then they reached a spreading apple tree which
+grew by a fence near the sidewalk, and beneath which was a large stone,
+often used as a resting-place for pedestrians.
+
+"Let's sit down a while," said Francis. "I feel tired; don't you?"
+
+"Yes, but father wouldn't like us to stop."
+
+"Oh, yes, he would, if he knew how tired we are. I'm going to rest a
+moment, anyway. That can't be any harm."
+
+Luella allowed herself to follow her brother's example. So they took the
+first step in disobedience.
+
+Next Luella said: "I wonder if we couldn't just unfasten the bag and
+look at that letter again. It's our letter, you know."
+
+"Of course, it is. Give me the bag. I'll open it."
+
+Then, without more ado, Francis deliberately opened the bag. Thus the
+second step in wrong-doing was taken.
+
+They examined the letter closely and leisurely, not one minute, but many
+minutes, passing while they were thus engaged. Then Luella said: "I'm
+going to read the letter. It's all the same whether we read it here or
+at home."
+
+It proved to be a very kind letter from Aunt Maria, who had lately made
+them a visit. She concluded by saying: "While I was with you I took
+pleasure in noticing your constant obedience. As a sort of reward, I
+enclose for you each a five-dollar gold piece. Please accept the gift
+with my love."
+
+"Where are the gold pieces?" asked Francis, taking the envelope from
+Luella, "Oh! here's one in the corner of this thing. I'll take this; but
+where's the other?"
+
+Where was the other? It was easier to ask the question than to reply.
+The two children folded and unfolded the letter. They turned the
+envelope inside out. They searched through their clothing. They
+inspected the grass and the path. If it had been possible, they would
+have lifted the stone upon which they had been sitting; but that would
+have been an herculean task. At length they reluctantly gave up the
+search and sadly went on their way homeward.
+
+"I wish we hadn't opened the letter," said Luella. "What are we going to
+tell mother and father anyhow?"
+
+"Well, I think we'd better tell them the whole story. Perhaps they'll
+help us look for the other gold piece."
+
+Francis, with the one coin in his hand, naturally took a more hopeful
+view of the situation than his sister did.
+
+"Perhaps Aunt Maria only put one in the letter," he suggested.
+
+"Oh, no; she's too careful for that. She never makes mistakes," said
+Luella, positively. "I only wish we'd minded. That's all."
+
+Francis echoed the wish in his heart, though he did not repeat it aloud.
+Thus, a repentant couple, they entered the house and the study. Mother
+was upstairs attending to baby, and father was evidently out. The
+brother and sister awaited his return in silence, Luella meanwhile
+grasping the letter, and Francis the single coin.
+
+"What's that you have?" asked Mr. Robinson; "a letter? How did it get
+out of the bag?"
+
+"It's ours," answered Luella, trembling while she spoke. "We--we--we--"
+then she burst into tears.
+
+"Let me have it," commanded Mr. Robinson.
+
+Luella obeyed, and went on weeping while her father read. Francis wanted
+to cry, too, but he thought it was unmanly, and choked back the tears.
+
+"I need ask you no more questions," said their father. "The truth is
+that I was calling on old Mrs. Brown when you stopped under the apple
+tree, and I saw the whole thing from her window. You don't know how
+sorry I felt when I found that my boy and girl couldn't be trusted. I
+saw that you had lost something, and after you had left I examined the
+grass about the stone and found the other gold piece. But I shall have
+to punish you by putting the money away for a whole month. At the end of
+that time I will return it to you, if I find that you are obedient
+meanwhile. I do not intend to be severe, but I think that ordinarily you
+are good children, and I understand how strong the temptation was. Are
+you not sorry that you yielded to it?"
+
+"Yes, sir, we are," exclaimed both children, emphatically.
+
+"And now, what am I going to do about the mail-bag? Can I let you have
+it after this?"
+
+"Yes, father, you can," they both replied once more; and after that they
+were always worthy of their trust.
+
+When Aunt Maria made her next visit they told her the story of their
+misdoing. Her only comment was: "You see, children, that it is necessary
+always to pray, 'Deliver us from evil,' for even when we want to do
+right, without help from above, we shall fail."
+
+
+
+
+A Day's Fishing.
+
+BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.
+
+
+Six lively boys had been spending their vacation at Clovernook Farm,
+and, as any one may imagine, they had been having the liveliest sort of
+a time.
+
+There were Mr. Hobart's two nephews, James and Fred; and Mrs. Hobart's
+two nephews, John and Albert, and two others, Milton and Peter, who,
+though only distant cousins, were considered as part of the family.
+
+To tell of all the things that these six had been doing during the eight
+weeks of their stay would be to write a history in several volumes. They
+had had innumerable games of tennis and croquet; had fished along the
+banks of streams; helped in the harvest field; taken straw-rides by
+moonlight; traveled many scores of miles on bicycles; taken photographs
+good and bad; gone out with picnic parties; learned to churn and to work
+butter; picked apples and eaten them, and they had plenty of energy left
+still.
+
+The climax of their enjoyment was reached on the very last day of their
+visit. Mr. Hobart had promised to take them for a day's fishing on a
+lake about ten miles distant from his house. On this fair September day
+he redeemed his promise. A jolly load set out in the gray of the early
+morning, equipped with poles, lines, bait, and provisions enough for the
+day. Having no other way to give vent to their spirits, they sang
+college songs all along the road. Of course, they surprised many an
+early riser by their vigorous rendering of familiar airs. Even cows and
+chickens and horses and pigs gazed at them with wondering eyes, as if to
+say, "Who are these noisy fellows, disturbing our morning meditations?"
+
+As the boys approached the lake they saw a strange-looking object on the
+water. What it might be they could not for a while decide. Certainly it
+was not a boat, and what else could be floating so calmly several feet
+out from the land?
+
+At length their strained eyes solved the mystery. It was a rudely built
+raft with a stool upon it, and upon the stool sat a ragged urchin ten or
+twelve years of age.
+
+"Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha!" shouted the six boys in unison.
+
+"Fine rig you have there!" called one.
+
+"What will you take for your ship?" shouted another.
+
+For all response the stranger simply stared.
+
+"Don't hurt his feelings, boys," said Mr. Hobart kindly, "he's getting
+enjoyment in his own way, and I suspect that it's the best way he knows
+of."
+
+Conscious of impoliteness, the boys subsided, and nothing more was
+thought of the stranger for several hours.
+
+About noon, however, as they were resting on the shore, he appeared
+before them with an old cigar box in his hand.
+
+"Want some crickets and grasshoppers?" he asked timidly. "I've been
+catching them for you, if you want them."
+
+"Yes, they are exactly the things we need," replied Mr. Hobart. "How
+much do you want for the lot?"
+
+"Oh, you're welcome to them. I hadn't nothin' else to do."
+
+"Well, that's what I call returning good for evil. Didn't you hear these
+chaps laugh at you this morning?"
+
+"Yes, but that's nothin'. I'm used to that sort of thing. Folks has
+laughed at me allus."
+
+"Well, we won't laugh at you now. Have some dinner, if you won't have
+any pay."
+
+The boy had refused money, but he could not refuse the tempting
+sandwiches and cakes which were offered to him. His hungry look appealed
+to the hearts of the other boys quite as forcibly as his comical
+attitude had before appealed to their sense of the ludicrous.
+
+Now they shared their dinner with him in most hospitable manner.
+Fortunately Mrs. Hobart was of a generous disposition, and had provided
+an abundance of food. Otherwise the picnic baskets might have given out
+with this new demand upon their contents.
+
+"What shall we call you?" said Mr. Hobart to the unexpected guest.
+
+"Sam Smith's my name. I am generally called Sam for short."
+
+"Well, Sam, I think you're right down hungry, and I'm glad you happened
+along our way. Where do you live, my boy?"
+
+"I've been a-workin' over there in the farmhouse yonder, but they've got
+through with me, and I'm just a-makin' up my mind where to go next."
+
+"Seems to me you're rather young to earn your own living. Have you no
+father or mother?"
+
+"Yes, in the city. But they have seven other boys and it's pretty hard
+work to get along. I'm the oldest, I am, so I try to turn a penny for
+myself. A gentleman got me this place, and paid my way out here, but
+he's gone back to town now. I s'pose he hoped the folks would keep me,
+but they don't need me no longer."
+
+Mr. Hobart was a man of kindly deeds. More than that, he was a
+Christian. As he stood talking with the stranger lad the words of the
+Master ran through his mind: "The poor ye have with ye always, and
+whensoever ye will ye may do them good."
+
+Certainly here was an opportunity to help a friendless boy. It should
+not be thrown away.
+
+"How would you like to engage yourself to me for the fall and winter?
+These boys are all going off to-morrow, and I need a boy about your size
+to run errands and help me with the chores."
+
+"Really? Honest?"
+
+"Yes, really I do. I want a good boy who will obey me and my wife, and I
+have an idea that you may suit."
+
+"I'll try to, sir."
+
+"Then jump into that boat and help us fish and I'll take you home with
+me to-night."
+
+Sam cast a farewell glance at his raft, just then floating out of sight.
+He had nothing else to take leave of, and no further arrangements to
+make; no packing to do and no baggage to carry. He had simply himself
+and the few clothes he wore. At evening he went home with Mr. Hobart in
+the most matter-of-course way. When the load of fishermen drew up at the
+barn-door he jumped out and began to unhitch as though that had been his
+lifelong work.
+
+Mrs. Hobart, coming out to give a welcome to the chattering group,
+appeared rather puzzled as she counted heads in the twilight. Mr. Hobart
+enjoyed the surprise which he had been expecting.
+
+"Yes, wife," said he aside, answering her thoughts, "I took out six this
+morning and I've brought back seven to-night. We've been for a day's
+fishing, you know, and I rather guess I've caught something more
+valuable than bass or perch, though they're good enough in their way."
+
+"Where did you find him?" asked Mrs. Hobart.
+
+"Sitting on a raft out on the lake."
+
+"He's a poor, homeless fellow, and I reckon that there's room in our
+house for one of Christ's little ones. Isn't that so, wife?"
+
+"Yes, Reuben, it is."
+
+"Then we'll do the best we can for this young chap. I mean to write to
+his parents, for he has given me their address. I think there will be no
+trouble in arranging to have him stay with us. We'll see what we can
+make out of him."
+
+"Reuben, I believe you're always looking out for a chance to do some
+good!"
+
+"That's the way it ought to be, wife."
+
+This conversation took place behind the carryall. None of the boys heard
+it. The six visitors, however, all caught the spirit of benevolence from
+their host. Before departing next day each one had contributed from his
+wardrobe some article of clothing for Sam, and they all showered him
+with good wishes as they left.
+
+"Hope to find you here next summer," they shouted in driving off.
+
+"Hope so," responded Sam.
+
+
+
+
+Why Charlie Didn't Go.
+
+BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.
+
+
+"Dear me! There come Uncle Josh and Aunt Jane, and not a bed in the
+house is made!" Mrs. Upton glanced nervously at the clock--then about to
+strike eleven--surveyed with dismay the disordered kitchen, looked
+through the open door into the dining-room, where the unwashed breakfast
+dishes were yet standing, took her hands out of the dough and ran to
+wash them at the faucet.
+
+"Maria, Maria, stir around. See what you can pick up while they're
+getting out of the cab. Isn't it always just so?"
+
+Maria, the daughter of fifteen, hastily laid aside her novel and did her
+best to remove the cups and saucers from the breakfast table, not
+omitting to break one in her hurry. Meanwhile her mother closed the
+kitchen door, caught up from the dining-room sofa a promiscuous pile of
+hats, coats, rubbers and shawls, threw them into a convenient closet,
+placed the colored cloth on the table and hastened to open the front
+door to admit her guests.
+
+"Come in! Come in! I'm ever so glad to see you, but you must take us
+just as we are. Did you come on the train?"
+
+"Yes, and got Jenkins to bring us up from the station. He's to take us
+back at three o'clock this afternoon. We can't make a long visit, but
+we're going to take dinner with you, if it's perfectly convenient."
+
+"Oh, yes! of course. It's always convenient to have you. We don't make
+strangers of you at all."
+
+While Mrs. Upton spoke these hospitable words her heart sank within her
+at the remembrance of her unbaked bread and her neglect to order meat
+for dinner.
+
+"Here, Maria, just help Aunt Jane to take off her wraps, I'll be right
+back."
+
+Mrs. Upton darted up-stairs, carrying with her a pair of trousers which
+she had been over an hour in mending. For want of them Charlie had been
+unable to go to school that morning. He was reading in his room.
+
+"Here, Charlie! Put these on and run down to the butcher's and get some
+steak, and stop at the baker's and get some rolls and a pie, and tell
+them I'll pay them to-morrow. I don't know where my pocketbook is now."
+
+"Ma," drawled Charlie in reply, "I haven't my shoes up here, only my
+slippers and rubbers."
+
+"Well, wear them then and keep out of the mud. I don't want you sick
+to-night. Be sure to come in the back way so that Uncle Josh won't see
+you. He'll think we're always behindhand."
+
+If Uncle Josh had thought so he would have been near the truth. Mrs.
+Upton was one of those unfortunate persons who seem to be always hard at
+work and always in the drag. She had the undesirable faculty of taking
+hold of things wrong end first.
+
+As water does not rise higher than its level, so children are not apt to
+have better habits than their parents. Charlie and Maria and the rest of
+the family lived in a state of constant confusion.
+
+At noon Mr. Upton came to dinner. It was not unusual for him to be
+forced to wait, and he had learned to be resigned; so he sat down
+patiently to talk with the visitors. Soon three children came in from
+school, all eager to eat and return. What with their clamorous demands,
+and the necessity for preparing extra vegetables and side-dishes, and
+anxiety to please all around, and to prevent her bread from growing
+sour, Mrs. Upton was nearly distracted. Yet Maria tried to help, and
+Aunt Jane invariably looked upon matters with the kindly eye of charity.
+Things were not so bad as they might have been, and dinner was ready at
+last.
+
+After the meal was over the two visitors found a corner in which to
+hold a conference.
+
+"Wife," said Uncle Josh, "Charlie's too bright a young fellow to be left
+to grow up in this way. Suppose we take him home with us for a while?"
+
+"There's nothing I would like better," responded Aunt Jane, whose
+motherly heart was yet sore with grief for her own little Charlie, who
+had been laid in the church-yard years before.
+
+When Mrs. Upton again emerged from the depths of the kitchen they
+repeated the proposal to her, and gained her assent at once.
+
+Charlie was next to be informed, but that was not an easy matter. The
+boy could nowhere be found.
+
+"Perhaps he's gone to school," suggested Aunt Jane.
+
+"No, I told him that since he had to be absent this morning he might as
+well be absent all day. He's somewhere about."
+
+A prolonged search ended in the barn, where Charlie at last was found,
+trying to whittle a ruler out of a piece of kindling-wood. He wished to
+draw maps and had mislaid or lost most of the articles necessary for the
+work.
+
+"Charlie!" exclaimed his mother, "Uncle Josh and Aunt Jane want to take
+you home with them for a long visit. We've been looking all over for
+you. I've been putting your best clothes in a bag, but you'll have to
+be careful about holding it shut, because I can't find the key. Now
+hurry and dress yourself if you want to go."
+
+Charlie gave a loud whistle of delight and hastened to the house to
+arrange his toilet. He washed his face and hands, brushed his hair, put
+on a clean collar, and then went to the kitchen to blacken his shoes. He
+expected to find them on his feet, but lo! there were only the slippers
+and rubbers, donned in the forenoon and forgotten until now.
+
+"Ma! where are my shoes?" he called in stentorian tones. Mrs. Upton
+replied from above stairs, where she was putting a stitch in her son's
+cap: "I don't know--haven't seen them."
+
+"Well, I left them in the kitchen last night. Here, Maria, help a
+fellow, won't you? I can't find my shoes and it's nearly train time.
+There's Jenkins at the door now."
+
+The united efforts of all present resulted in finding the shoes
+entangled in an afghan which Mrs. Upton had unintentionally placed in
+the heap in the closet when she relieved the sofa of its burden.
+
+"Here they are at last. Bravo!" shouted Charlie. Yet his joy was short
+lived. One shoe wouldn't go on. He had slipped it off on the previous
+night without unfastening. There were several knots in the string, and
+all were unmanageable. He struggled breathlessly while Uncle Josh and
+Aunt Jane were getting into the cab, then broke the string in
+desperation just as Jenkins, hearing the car-whistle, drove off to reach
+the train.
+
+"Very sorry! Can't wait another instant!" called out Uncle Josh.
+Charlie, having repaired damages as best he could, reached the front
+door in time to see the back of the carriage away down the street.
+
+"Time and tide wait for no man," observed his mother exasperatingly.
+Perhaps her quotation of the proverb carried with it the weight of her
+experience. Perhaps she thought it her duty to give moral lessons to her
+son, regardless of illustrations.
+
+Charlie's disappointment was rendered bitterer still, when the following
+week there came a letter from Uncle Josh saying that he and Aunt Jane
+were about taking a trip to the West.
+
+"Tell Charlie," said the letter, "that if we only had him with us we
+should certainly take him along."
+
+"Isn't it too bad," said Charlie, "to think I've missed so much, and all
+through the want of a shoe-string?"
+
+
+
+
+Uncle Giles' Paint Brush.
+
+BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.
+
+
+It was a rainy day in summer. A chilly wind swept about the house and
+bent the branches of the trees, and reminded every one who encountered
+it that autumn, with its gales, would return as promptly as ever.
+
+A bright fire was blazing in the sitting-room, and near it were Mrs.
+Strong with her two little girls, and also Aunt Martha Bates, whom they
+were visiting. Rufus Strong, aged fourteen, stood by a closed window,
+listlessly drumming on a pane.
+
+He was tired of reading, and tired of watching the ladies sew, and tired
+of building toy houses for his sisters.
+
+"I guess I'll go out to the barn and find Uncle Giles," said he at
+length.
+
+Mrs. Strong, who had found the music on the window pane rather
+monotonous, quickly responded in favor of the plan.
+
+"Just the one I want to see!" exclaimed Uncle Giles, as Rufus made his
+appearance at the barn door. "I'm getting my tools in order, and now you
+can turn the grind-stone while I sharpen this scythe."
+
+Rufus cheerfully agreed to this proposal, and performed his part with a
+hearty good will.
+
+"Do you always put your tools in order on rainy days?" he asked.
+
+"Well, yes; I always look over them and see if they need attention. Then
+when I want them they are ready for use. Now, since this job is done,
+suppose you undertake another. Wouldn't this be a good time to paint
+those boxes for Aunt Martha's flowers? You know you promised to paint
+them for her, and if you do it now, they'll be good and dry when she
+wants to pot her plants in September?"
+
+"I think you believe in preparing for work beforehand, don't you, Uncle
+Giles?"
+
+"Yes, indeed, that I do. It saves ever so much time when you have any
+work to do to have things all ready. What's the matter, can't you find
+the paint brush?"
+
+"No, Uncle, and I'm sure that I saw it in its place not very long ago."
+
+This reminded Uncle Giles that neighbor Jones had borrowed the brush a
+few days previous and had not yet returned it.
+
+"He promised to bring it home that day," said Mr. Bates, "but he's not
+apt to do things promptly. I guess you'll have to step over to his house
+and ask him if he's through with it."
+
+Rufus started off on the errand and soon, returned carrying the brush in
+a small tin pail, half-full of water.
+
+"Mr. Jones is much obliged to you for the use of it," he said to his
+uncle, "and he's sorry that he hasn't had time to wash out the brush."
+
+Mr. Bates looked rather annoyed. Accustomed to perfect order himself, he
+was often irritated by the slovenly ways of his neighbor.
+
+"Then there's nothing for you to do but repair damages as well as you
+can. What color of paint is in the brush?"
+
+"Red, sir."
+
+"And you want to use green. You'll have to go to the house and get some
+warm soap-suds and give the brush a thorough washing."
+
+Rufus found that he had plenty of occupation for some time after that.
+The brush was soaked up to the handle in the bright red paint, and it
+was a work of patience to give it the necessary cleaning. Indeed, dinner
+time found him just ready to begin the task which might have been easily
+accomplished in the morning had it not been for that long delay.
+
+After dinner he and Uncle Giles again repaired to the barn, where the
+elder cleaned harness while the younger painted.
+
+"I think I begin to realize," said Rufus, "that your plan of having
+tools ready is a good one."
+
+"Yes, it's good, no matter what sort of work you're going to do. I
+believe you wish to be a minister one of these days, don't you, Rufus?"
+
+"Yes, I think so now, Uncle."
+
+"Then you are getting some of your tools ready when you are studying
+Latin and history and other things in school. And you are getting others
+ready when you read the Bible, and when you study your Sunday-school
+lesson, and when you listen to the preaching of your minister. You need
+to take pains to remember what you learn in these ways, for the good
+things in your memory will be the tools that you will have constant use
+for.
+
+"I know a young man who is now studying for the ministry. I think he
+will succeed, for he is very much in earnest and he has natural ability,
+too. Yet he finds his task rather difficult, because he had no
+opportunity to study when he was younger. He has not been trained to
+think or to remember, and the work he is doing now is something like
+your washing the paint brush this morning. It must all be done before he
+can go on to anything better, and he regrets that it was not done at the
+proper time."
+
+"I suppose that the moral for me is to improve my privileges."
+
+"Yes, that's just it. Improve your privileges by getting ready
+beforehand for the work of life. If the paint brush teaches you this
+lesson, you may be glad that you had to stop to get it clean."
+
+
+
+
+    The Pied Piper of Hamelin.
+
+    (_A Child's Story._)
+
+    BY ROBERT BROWNING.
+
+
+    I.
+
+    Hamelin Town's in Brunswick,
+    By famous Hanover city;
+    The river Weser, deep and wide,
+    Washes its wall on the southern side;
+    A pleasanter spot you never spied;
+    But, when begins my ditty,
+    Almost five hundred years ago,
+    To see the townsfolk suffer so
+    From vermin, was a pity.
+
+    II.
+
+       Rats!
+    They fought the dogs and killed the cats,
+    And bit the babies in their cradles,
+    And ate the cheeses out of the vats,
+    And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles,
+    Split open the kegs of salted sprats,
+    Made nests inside men's Sunday hats,
+    And even spoiled the women's chats
+    By drowning their speaking
+    With shrieking and squeaking
+    In fifty different sharps and flats.
+
+    III.
+
+    At last the people in a body
+    To the Town Hall came flocking:
+    "'Tis clear," cried they, "our Mayor's a noddy:
+    And as for our Corporation--shocking
+    To think we buy gowns lined with ermine
+    For dolts that can't or won't determine
+    What's best to rid us of our vermin!
+    You hope, because you're old and obese,
+    To find in the furry civic robe ease!
+    Rouse up, Sirs! Give your brains a racking
+    To find the remedy we're lacking,
+    Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!"
+    At this the Mayor and Corporation
+    Quaked with a mighty consternation.
+
+    IV.
+
+    An hour they sat in council,
+    At length the Mayor broke silence:
+    "For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell,
+    I wish I were a mile hence!
+    It's easy to bid one rack one's brain--
+    I'm sure my poor head aches again,
+    I've scratched it so, and all in vain.
+    Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!"
+    Just as he said this, what should hap
+    At the chamber door, but a gentle tap!
+    "Bless us," cried the Mayor, "what's that?"
+    (With the Corporation as he sat
+    Looking little though wondrous fat;
+    Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister
+    Than a too-long-opened oyster,
+    Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous
+    For a plate of turtle green and glutinous).
+    "Only a scraping of shoes on the mat
+    Anything like the sound of a rat
+    Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!"
+
+    V.
+
+    "Come in!" the Mayor cried, looking bigger:
+    And in did come the strangest figure!
+    His queer long coat from heel to head
+    Was half of yellow and half of red,
+    And he himself was tall and thin,
+    With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin,
+    And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin
+    No tuft on cheek, nor beard on chin,
+    But lips where smiles went out and in;
+    There was no guessing his kith and kin!
+    And nobody could enough admire
+    The tall man and his quaint attire.
+    Quoth one: "It's as if my great-grandsire,
+    Starting up at the trump of Doom's tone,
+    Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!"
+
+    VI.
+
+    He advanced to the council-table:
+    And "Please your honors," said he, "I'm able,
+    By means of a secret charm, to draw
+    All creatures living beneath the sun,
+    That creep, or swim, or fly, or run
+    After me so as you never saw!
+    And I chiefly use my charm
+    On creatures that do people harm,
+    The mole and toad and newt and viper;
+    And people call me the Pied Piper."
+    (And here they noticed round his neck
+    A scarf of red and yellow stripe,
+    To match with his coat of the self-same cheque;
+    And at the scarf's end hung a pipe;
+    And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying
+    As if impatient to be playing
+    Upon his pipe, as low it dangled
+    Over his vesture so old-fangled.)
+    "Yet," said he, "poor piper as I am,
+    In Tartary I freed the Cham,
+    Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats;
+    I eased in Asia the Nizam
+    Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats:
+    And as for what your brain bewilders,
+    If I can rid your town of rats
+    Will you give me a thousand guilders?"
+    "One? Fifty thousand!" was the exclamation
+    Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.
+
+    VII.
+
+    Into the street the Piper stept,
+    Smiling first a little smile,
+    As if he knew what magic slept
+    In his quiet pipe the while;
+    Then, like a musical adept,
+    To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,
+    And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled,
+    Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled;
+    And ere three shrill notes the pipe had uttered,
+    You heard as if an army muttered;
+    And the muttering grew to a grumbling;
+    And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;
+    And out of the houses the rats came tumbling--
+    Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,
+    Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats,
+    Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,
+    Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,
+    Cocking tails and pricking whiskers,
+    Families by tens and dozens,
+    Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives--
+    Followed the Piper for their lives.
+    From street to street he piped, advancing,
+    And step for step they followed dancing,
+    Until they came to the river Weser
+    Wherein all plunged and perished,
+    Save one who, stout as Julius Cæsar,
+    Swam across and lived to carry
+    (As _he_, the manuscript he cherished)
+    To Rat-land home his commentary:
+    Which was, "At the first shrill notes of the pipe,
+    I heard a sound as of scraping tripe,
+    And putting apples, wondrous ripe,
+    Into a cider-press's gripe:
+    And a moving away of pickle-tub boards,
+    And a leaving ajar of conserve cupboards
+    And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks,
+    And a breaking the hoops of butter casks:
+    And it seemed as if a voice
+    (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery
+    Is breathed) called out, 'Oh, rats, rejoice!
+    The world is grown to one vast drysaltery!
+    So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon,
+    Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!'
+    And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon,
+    All ready staved, like a great sun shone
+    Glorious scarce an inch before me,
+    Just as methought it said, 'Come bore me!'--
+    I found the Weser rolling o'er me."
+
+    VIII.
+
+    You should have heard the Hamelin people
+    Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple.
+    "Go," cried the Mayor, "and get long poles,
+    Poke out the nests and block up the holes!
+    Consult with carpenters and builders,
+    And leave in our town not even a trace
+    Of the rats!"--when suddenly, up the face
+    Of the Piper perked in the market-place,
+    With a--"First, if you please, my thousand
+    guilders!"
+
+    IX.
+
+    A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue;
+    So did the Corporation too.
+    For council dinners made rare havoc
+    With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock;
+    And half the money would replenish
+    Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish.
+    To pay this sum to a wandering fellow
+    With a gypsy coat of red and yellow!
+    "Beside," quoth the Mayor, with a knowing wink,
+    "Our business was done at the river's brink;
+    We saw with our eyes the vermin sink,
+    And what's dead can't come to life, I think.
+    So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink
+    From the duty of giving you something for drink,
+    And a matter of money to put into your poke;
+    But as for the guilders, what we spoke
+    Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.
+    Beside, our losses have made us thrifty:
+    A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!"
+
+    X.
+
+    The Piper's face fell, and he cried,
+    "No trifling! I can't wait, beside!
+    I've promised to visit by dinner-time
+    Bagdad, and accept the prime
+    Of the head-cook's pottage, all he's rich in,
+    For having left, in the caliph's kitchen,
+    Of a nest of scorpions, no survivor:
+    With him I proved no bargain-driver,
+    With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver!
+    And folks who put me in a passion
+    May find me pipe to another fashion."
+
+    XI.
+
+    "How?" cried the Mayor, "d'ye think I'll brook
+    Being worse treated than a cook?
+    Insulted by a lazy ribald
+    With idle pipe and vesture piebald?
+    You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst,
+    Blow your pipe there till you burst!"
+
+    XII.
+
+    Once more he stept into the street,
+    And to his lips again
+    Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane;
+    And ere he blew three notes (such sweet
+    Soft notes as yet musician's cunning
+    Never gave the enraptured air)
+    There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling
+    Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling,
+    Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering,
+    Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering,
+    And, like fowls in a farmyard when barley is scattering,
+    Out came the children running.
+    All the little boys and girls,
+    With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,
+    And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls,
+    Tripping and skipping ran merrily after
+    The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.
+
+    XIII.
+
+    The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood
+    As if they were changed into blocks of wood,
+    Unable to move a step, or cry
+    To the children merrily skipping by--
+    --Could only follow with the eye
+    That joyous crowd at the Piper's back.
+    And now the Mayor was on the rack,
+    And the wretched Council's bosoms beat,
+    As the Piper turned from the High Street
+    To where the Weser rolled its waters
+    Right in the way of their sons and daughters!
+    However he turned from south to west,
+    And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed
+    And after him the children pressed;
+    Great was the joy in every breast.
+    "He never can cross that mighty top!
+    He's forced to let the piping drop,
+    And we shall see our children stop!"
+    When, lo, as they reached the mountain-side,
+    A wondrous portal opened wide,
+    As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;
+    And the Piper advanced and the children followed,
+    And when all were in to the very last,
+    The door in the mountain-side shut fast.
+    Did I say, all? No! One was lame,
+    And could not dance the whole of the way;
+    And in after years, if you would blame
+    His sadness, he was used to say,--
+    "It's dull in our town since my playmates left!
+    I can't forget that I'm bereft
+    Of all the pleasant sights they see,
+    Which the Piper also promised me.
+    For he led us, he said, to a joyous land,
+    Joining the town and just at hand,
+    Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew,
+    And flowers put forth a fairer hue,
+    And everything was strange and new;
+    The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here,
+    And their dogs outran our fallow deer,
+    And honey-bees had lost their stings,
+    And horses were born with eagles' wings:
+    And just as I became assured
+    My lame foot would be speedily cured,
+    The music stopped and I stood still,
+    And found myself outside the hill,
+    Left alone against my will,
+    To go now limping as before;
+    And never hear of that country more!"
+
+    XIV.
+
+    Alas, alas for Hamelin!
+    There came into many a burgher's pate
+    A text which says that heaven's gate
+    Opes to the rich at as easy rate
+    As the needle's eye takes a camel in!
+    The Mayor sent East, West, North and South,
+    To offer the Piper, by word of mouth,
+    Wherever it was man's lot to find him,
+    Silver and gold to his heart's content,
+    If he'd only return the way he went,
+    And bring the children behind him.
+    But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor,
+    And Piper and dancers were gone forever,
+    They made a decree that lawyers never
+    Should think their records dated duly
+    If, after the day of the month and year,
+    These words did not as well appear:
+    "And so long after what happened here
+    On the twenty-second of July,
+    Thirteen hundred and seventy-six:"
+    And the better in memory to fix
+    The place of the children's last retreat,
+    They called it the Pied Piper's Street--
+    Where any one playing on pipe or tabor
+    Was sure for the future to lose his labor.
+    Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern
+    To shock with mirth a street so solemn;
+    But opposite the place of the cavern
+    They wrote the story on a column,
+    And on the great church-window painted
+    The same, to make the world acquainted
+    How their children were stolen away,
+    And there it stands to this very day.
+    And I must not omit to say
+    That in Transylvania there's a tribe
+    Of alien people that ascribe
+    The outlandish ways and dress
+    On which their neighbors lay such stress,
+    To their fathers and mothers having risen
+    Out of some subterraneous prison
+    Into which they were trepanned
+    Long time ago in a mighty band
+    Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land,
+    But how or why, they don't understand.
+
+    XV.
+
+    So, Willy, let me and you be wipers
+    Of scores out with all men--especially pipers!
+    And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice,
+    If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise!
+
+
+
+
+A Girl Graduate.
+
+BY CYNTHIA BARNARD.
+
+I.
+
+
+It was examination week at Mount Seward College, but most of the work
+was over, and the students were waiting in the usual fever of anxiety to
+learn the verdict on their papers, representing so much toil and pains.
+Some of the girls were nearly as much concerned about their graduating
+gowns as about their diplomas, but as independence was in the air at
+Mount Seward, these rather frivolous girls were in the minority. During
+term time most of the students wore the regulation cap and gown, and
+partly owing to the fact that Mount Seward was a college with traditions
+of plain living and high thinking behind it, and partly because the
+youngest and best-loved professor was a woman of rare and noble
+characteristics, a woman who had set her own stamp on her pupils, and
+furnished them an ideal, dress and fashion were secondary considerations
+here. There were no low emulations at Mount Seward.
+
+A group of girls in a bay-window over-looking the campus were discussing
+the coming commencement. From various rooms came the steady, patient
+sound of pianos played for practice. On the green lawn in front of the
+president's cottage two or three intellectual looking professors and
+tutors walked up and down, evidently discussing an affair that
+interested them.
+
+The postman strolled over the campus wearily, as who should say, "This
+is my last round, and the bag is abominably heavy."
+
+He disappeared within a side door, and presently there was a hurrying
+and scurrying of fresh-faced young women, bright-eyed and blooming under
+the mortar-caps, jauntily perched over their braids and ringlets,
+rushing toward that objective point, the college post-office. One would
+have fancied that letters came very seldom, to see their excitement.
+
+Margaret Lee received two letters. She did not open either in the
+presence of her friends, but went with a swift step and a heightened
+color to her own suite of rooms. Two small alcoves, curtained off from a
+pleasant little central sitting-room, composed the apartment Margaret
+shared with her four years' chum Alice Raynor. Alice was not there, yet
+Margaret did not seat herself in the room common to both, but entered
+her own alcove, drew the portiere, and sat down on the edge of the iron
+bed, not larger than a soldier's camp cot. It was an austere little
+cell, simple as a nun's, with the light falling from one narrow window
+on the pale face and brown hair of the young girl, to whom the unopened
+letters in her hand signified so much.
+
+Which should she read first? One, in a large square envelope, addressed
+in a bold, business-like hand, bore a Western postmark, and had the
+printed order to return, if not delivered in ten days, to Hilox
+University, Colorado. The other, in a cramped, old-fashioned hand, bore
+the postmark of a hamlet in West Virginia. It was a thin letter,
+evidently belonging to the genus domestic correspondence, a letter from
+Margaret's home.
+
+Which should she open first? There was an evident struggle, and a
+perceptible hesitation. Then she laid the home letter resolutely down on
+the pillow of her bed, and, with a hair-pin, that woman's tool which
+suits so many uses, delicately and dexterously cut the envelope of the
+letter from Hilox. It began formally, and was very brief:
+
+     "MY DEAR MISS LEE:--The trustees and faculty of Hilox
+     University have been looking for a woman, a recent graduate of
+     distinction from some well-established Eastern college, to take the
+     chair of Greek in our new institution. You have been recommended as
+     thoroughly qualified for the position. The salary is not at present
+     large, but our university is growing, and we offer a tempting
+     field to an energetic and ambitious woman. May we write you more
+     fully on the subject, if you are inclined to take our vacancy into
+     your favorable consideration?
+
+                                        "Very respectfully yours."
+
+Then followed the signature of the president of Hilox, a man whose name
+and fame were familiar to Margaret Lee.
+
+The girl's cheek glowed; her dark eyes deepened; a look of power and
+purpose settled upon the sweet full lips. For this she had studied
+relentlessly; to this end she had looked; with this in view her four
+years' course had been pursued with pluck and determination. The picture
+of Joanna Baker, as young as herself, climbing easily to the topmost
+round of the ladder, had fired and stimulated _her_, and she had allowed
+it to be known that her life was dedicated to learning, and by-and-by to
+teaching.
+
+All the faculty at Mount Seward knew her aspirations, and several of the
+professors had promised their aid in securing her a position, but she
+had not expected anything of this kind so soon.
+
+Why, her diploma would not be hers until next week! Surely there must be
+some benignant angel at work in her behalf. But--Hilox? Had she ever met
+any one from Hilox?
+
+Suddenly the light went out of the ardent face, and a frown crinkled the
+smooth fairness of her brow. This, then, _he_ had dared to do!
+
+Memory recalled an episode two years back, and half-forgotten. Margaret
+had been spending her vacation at home in the West Virginia mountains,
+and a man had fallen in love with her. There was nothing remarkable in
+this, for a beautiful girl of seventeen, graceful, dignified,
+accomplished, and enthusiastic, is a very lovable creature. A visiting
+stranger in the village, the minister's cousin, had been much at her
+father's house, had walked and boated with her, and shared her rides
+over the hills, both on sure-footed mountain ponies. As a friend
+Margaret had liked Dr. Angus, as a comrade had found him delightful, but
+her heart had not been touched. What had she, with her Greek
+professorate looming up like a star in mid-heaven before her--what had
+she to do with love and a lover? She had managed to make Dr. Angus know
+this before he had quite committed himself by a proposal; but she had
+understood what was in his thought, and she knew that he knew that she
+knew all about it. And Dr. Angus had remained and settled down as a
+practitioner in the little mountain town. The town had a future before
+it, for two railroads were already projected to cross it, and there were
+coal mines in the neighborhood, and, altogether, a man might do worse
+than drive his roots into this soil. She had heard now and then of Dr.
+Angus since that summer--her last vacation had been passed with cousins
+in New England--and he was said to be courting a Mrs. Murray, a rich and
+charming neighbor of her father's.
+
+Dr. Angus had friends in Colorado. Now she remembered he had a relative
+who had helped to found Hilox, and had endowed a chair of languages or
+literature; she was not certain which. So it must be to _him_ she was
+indebted, and, oddly, she was more indignant than grateful. The natural
+intervention of a friendly hand in the matter took all the satisfaction
+out of her surprise.
+
+Not that she loved Dr. Angus! But she did not choose to be under an
+obligation to him. What girl would in the circumstances?
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+All this time the letter from home lay overlooked on the pillow. If it
+could have spoken it would have reproached the daughter for her
+absorption in its companion, but it bided its time. Presently Margaret
+turned with a start, saw it, felt a remorseful stab, and tore it open,
+without the aid of a hair-pin.
+
+This is what the home letter had to say. It was from Margaret's father,
+and as he seldom wrote to her, leaving, as many men do, the bulk of
+correspondence with absent members of the family to be the care of his
+wife and children, she felt a premonitory thrill.
+
+The Lees were a very affectionate and devoted household, clannish to a
+degree, and undemonstrative, as mountaineers often are. The deep well of
+their love did not foam and ripple like a brook, but the water was
+always there, to draw upon at will. "The shallows murmur, but the deeps
+are dumb." It was so in the house of Duncan Lee.
+
+     "MY DEAR DAUGHTER MARGARET" (the letter began),--"I hope
+     these lines will find you well, and your examination crowned with
+     success. We have thought and talked of you much lately, and wished
+     we could be with you to see you when you are graduated. Mother
+     would have been so glad to go, but it is my sad duty to inform you
+     that she is not well. Do not be anxious, Margaret. There is no
+     immediate danger, but your dear mother has been more or less ailing
+     ever since last March, and she does not get better. We fear there
+     will have to be a surgical operation--perhaps more than one. She
+     may have to live, as people sometimes do, for years with a knife
+     always over her head. We want you to come home, Margaret, as soon
+     as you can. I enclose a check for all expenses, and I will see that
+     you are met at the railway terminus, so you need not take the long
+     stage-ride all by yourself. But I am afraid I have not broken it to
+     you gently, my dear, as mother said I must. Forgive me; I am just
+     breaking my heart in these days, and I need you as much almost as
+     your mother does.
+
+                                  "Your loving father, "DUNCAN LEE."
+
+A vision rose before Margaret, as with tear-blurred eyes she folded her
+father's letter and replaced it in its cover. She brushed the tears away
+and looked at the date. Four days ago the letter had been posted. Her
+home, an old homestead in a valley that nestled deep and sweet in the
+heart of the grand mountain range, guarding it on every side, rose
+before her. She saw her father, grizzled, stooping-shouldered,
+care-worn, old-fashioned in dress, precise in manner, a gentleman of the
+old school, a man who had never had much money, but who had sent his
+five sons and his one daughter to college, giving them, what the Lees
+prized most in life, a liberal education. She saw her mother, thin,
+fair, tall, with the golden hair that would fade but would never turn
+gray, the blue child-like eyes, the wistful mouth.
+
+"Mother!" she gasped, "mother!"
+
+The horror of the malady that had seized on the beautiful, dainty,
+lovely woman, so like a princess in her bearing, so notable in her
+housewifery, so neighborly, so maternal, swept over her in a hot tide,
+retreated, leaving her shivering.
+
+"I must go home," she said, "and at once!" With feet that seemed to her
+weighted with lead she went straight to the room of the Dean, knowing
+that in that gracious woman's spirit there would be instant
+comprehension, and that she would receive wise advice.
+
+"My dear!" said the Dean, "you have heard from Hilox, haven't you? We
+are so proud of you; we want you to represent our college and our
+culture there. It is a magnificent opportunity, Margaret."
+
+The Dean was very short-sighted, and she did not catch at first the look
+on Margaret's face.
+
+"Yes," she answered, in a voice that sounded muffled and lifeless, "I
+have heard from Hilox; I had almost forgotten, but I must answer the
+letter. Dear Mrs. Wade, I have heard from home, too. My mother is very
+ill, and she needs me. I must go at once--to-morrow morning. I cannot
+wait for Commencement."
+
+The Dean asked for further information. Then she urged that Margaret
+should wait over the annual great occasion; so much was due the college,
+she thought, and she pointed out the fact that Mr. Lee had not asked her
+to leave until the exercises were over.
+
+But Margaret had only one reply: "My mother needs me; I must go!"
+
+A week later, at sunset, the old lumbering stage, rolling over the steep
+hills and the smooth dales drew up at Margaret's home. Tired, but with a
+steadfast light in her eyes, the girl stepped down, received her
+father's kiss, and went straight to her mother, waiting in the doorway.
+
+"I am glad--glad you have come, my darling!" said the mother. "While you
+are here I can give everything up. But, my love, this is not what we
+planned!"
+
+"No, my dearest," said the girl, "but that is of no consequence. I wish
+I had known sooner how much, how very much, I was wanted at home!"
+
+"But you will not be a Professor of Greek!" said the mother that night.
+It was all arranged for the operation, which was to take place in a
+week's time, the surgeons to come from the nearest town. The mother was
+brave, gay, heroic. Margaret looked at her, wondering that one under the
+shadow of death could laugh and talk so brightly.
+
+"No. I will be something better," she said, tenderly. "I will be your
+nurse, your comfort if I can. If I had only known, there are many things
+better than Greek that I might have learned!"
+
+Hilox did not get its Greek professor, but the culture of Mount Seward
+was not wasted. Mrs. Lee lived years, often in anguish unspeakable,
+relieved by intervals of peace and freedom from pain. The daughter
+became almost the mother in their intercourse as time passed, and the
+bloom on her cheek paled sooner than on her mother's in the depth of
+her sympathy. But the end came at last, and the suffering life went out
+with a soft sigh, as a child falls asleep.
+
+On a little shelf in Margaret's room her old text-books, seldom opened,
+are souvenirs of her busy life at college. Her hand has learned the
+cunning which concocts dainty dishes and lucent jellies; her
+housekeeping and her hospitality are famous. She is a bright talker,
+witty, charming, with the soft inflections which make the vibrant
+tunefulness of the Virginian woman's voice so tender and sweet a thing
+in the ear. Mount Seward is to her the Mecca of memory. If ever she has
+a daughter she will send her there, and--who knows?--that girl may be
+professor at Hilox.
+
+For though Margaret is not absent from her own household, she is not
+long to be Margaret Lee. The wedding-cake is made, and is growing rich
+and firm as it awaits the day when the bride will cut it. The
+wedding-gown is ordered. Dr. Angus has proposed at last; he had never
+thought of wooing or winning any one except the fair girl who caught his
+fancy and his heart ten years ago, and when Margaret next visits her New
+England relations it will be to present her husband.
+
+The professor, who had been her most dearly beloved friend during those
+happy college days, her confidante and model, said to one who recalled
+Margaret Lee and spoke of her as "a great disappointment, my dear:"
+
+"Yes, we expected her to make a reputation for herself and Mount Seward.
+She has done better. She has been enabled to do her duty in the station
+to which it has pleased God to call her--a good thing for any girl
+graduate, it seems to me."
+
+
+
+
+    A Christmas Frolic.
+
+    BY MRS. M.E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+    We had gone to the forest for holly and pine,
+      And gathered our arms full of cedar,
+    And home we came skipping, our garlands to twine,
+      With Marcus, the bold, for our leader.
+
+    The dear Mother said we might fix up the place,
+      And ask all the friends to a party;
+    So joy, you may fancy, illumined each face
+      And our manners were cordial and hearty.
+
+    But whom should we have? There were Sally and Fred,
+      And Martha and Luke and Leander;
+    There was Jack, a small boy with a frowsy red head,
+      And the look of an old salamander.
+
+    There was Dickie, who went to a college up town,
+      And Archie, who worked for the neighbors;
+    There were Timothy Parsons and Anthony Brown,
+      Old fellows, of street-cleaning labors.
+
+    And then sister had friends like the lilies so fair,
+      Sweet girls with white hands and soft glances;
+    At a frolic of ours these girls must be there,
+      Dear Mildred and Gladys and Frances.
+
+    At Christmas, my darlings, leave nobody out,
+      'Tis the feast of the dear Elder Brother,
+    Who came to this world to bring freedom about,
+      And whose motto is "Love one another."
+
+    When the angels proclaimed Him in Judea's sky
+      They sang out His wonderful story,
+    And peace and good will did they bring from on high,
+      And the keystone of all laid with glory.
+
+    A frolic at Christmas must needs know not change
+      Of fortune, or richer or poorer;
+    If any one comes who is lonesome and strange,
+      Why, just make his welcome the surer.
+
+    We invited our friends and we dressed up the room
+      Till it looked like a wonderful bower,
+    With starry bright tapers, and flowers in bloom,
+      And a tree with white popcorn a-shower.
+
+    And presents and presents, for every one there,
+      In stockings, and bags full of candy,
+    And old Santa Claus (Uncle William) was fair,
+      And--I tell you, our tree was a dandy.
+
+    Then, when nine o'clock struck, and the frolic and fun
+      Had risen almost to their highest,
+    And pleasure was beaming, and every one
+      Was happy, from bravest to shyest.
+
+    Our dear Mother went to the organ and played
+      A carol so sweet and so tender;
+    We prayed while we sang, and we sang as we prayed,
+      To Jesus, our Prince and Defender.
+
+    Oh! Jesus, who came as a Babe to the earth,
+      Who slept 'mid the kine, in a manger;
+    Oh! Jesus, our Lord, in whose heavenly birth
+      Is pledge of our ransom from danger.
+
+    Strong Son of the Father, divine from of old,
+      And Son of the race, child of woman;
+    Increasing in might as the ages unfold,
+      Redeemer, our God, and yet human.
+
+    We sang to His Name, and we stood in a band,
+      Each pledged for the Master wholly,
+    To work heart to heart, and to work hand to hand,
+      In behalf of the outcast and lowly.
+
+    Then we said "Merry Christmas" once more and we went
+      Away from the holly and cedar,
+    And home we all scattered, quite glad and content,
+      And henceforward our Lord is our Leader.
+
+
+
+Archie's Vacation.
+
+BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.
+
+
+"Papa has come," shouted Archie Conwood, as he rushed down stairs two
+steps at a time, with his sisters Minnie and Katy following close
+behind, and mamma bringing up the rear. Papa had been to Cousin
+Faraton's to see if he could engage summer board for the family.
+
+Cousin Faraton lived in a pleasant village about a hundred miles distant
+from the city in which Mr. and Mrs. Conwood were living. They had agreed
+that to board with him would insure a pleasant vacation for all.
+
+Papa brought a good report. Everything had been favorably arranged.
+
+"And what do you think!" he asked, in concluding his narrative. "Cousin
+Faraton has persuaded me to buy a bicycle for you, Archie. He thought it
+would be quite delightful for you and your Cousin Samuel to ride about
+on their fine roads together. So I stopped and ordered one on my way
+home."
+
+"Oh, you dear, good papa?" exclaimed Archie, "do let me give you a hug."
+
+"Are you sure it's healthful exercise?" asked Mrs. Conwood, rather
+timidly. After the way of mothers, she was anxious for the health of
+her son.
+
+"Nothing could be better, if taken in moderation," Mr. Conwood
+positively replied, thus setting his wife's fears at rest.
+
+The order for the bicycle was promptly filled, and Archie had some
+opportunity of using it before going to the country. When the day for
+leaving town arrived, he was naturally more interested in the safe
+carrying of what he called his "machine" than in anything else connected
+with the journey.
+
+He succeeded in taking it to Cousin Faraton's uninjured, and was much
+pleased to find that it met with the entire approbation of Samuel, whose
+opinion, as he was two years older than himself, was considered most
+important.
+
+The two boys immediately planned a short excursion for the following
+day, and obtained the consent of their parents.
+
+Breakfast next morning was scarcely over when they made their start. The
+sunshine was bright, the sky was cloudless; they were well and strong.
+Everything promised the pleasantest sort of a day. Yet, alas! for all
+human hopes. Who can tell what sudden disappointment a moment may bring?
+
+The cousins had just disappeared from view of the group assembled on the
+piazza to see them start, when Samuel came back in breathless haste,
+exclaiming:
+
+"Archie has fallen, and I think he's hurt."
+
+The two fathers ran at full speed to the spot where Archie was, and
+found him pale and almost fainting by the roadside. They picked him up
+and carried him tenderly back to the house, while Samuel hurried off for
+the village doctor. Fortunately he found him in his carriage about
+setting forth on his morning round and quite ready to drive at a rapid
+rate to the scene of the accident.
+
+The first thing to be done was to administer a restorative, for Archie
+had had a severe shock. The next thing was an examination, which
+resulted in the announcement of a broken leg.
+
+Surely there was an end to all plans for a pleasant vacation.
+
+The doctor might be kind, sympathetic and skillful, as indeed he was.
+The other children might unite in trying to entertain their injured
+playfellow. They might bring him flowers without number, and relate to
+him their various adventures, and read him their most interesting
+story-books--all this they did. Mother might be tireless in her
+devotion, trying day and night to make him forget the pain--what mother
+would not have done all in her power?
+
+Still there was no escape from the actual suffering, no relief from the
+long six weeks' imprisonment; while outside the birds were singing and
+the summer breezes playing in ever so many delightful places that might
+have been visited had it not been for that broken leg.
+
+Archie tried to be brave and cheerful, and to conceal from every one the
+tears which would sometimes force their way to his eyes.
+
+He endeavored to interest himself in the amusements which were within
+his reach, and he succeeded admirably. Yet the fact remained that he was
+having a sadly tedious vacation.
+
+The kind-hearted doctor often entertained him by telling of his
+experiences while surgeon in a hospital during the war.
+
+"Do you know," he said one day in the midst of a story, "that the men
+who had been bravest on the field of battle were most patient in bearing
+suffering? They showed what we call fortitude, and bravery and fortitude
+go hand in hand."
+
+This was an encouraging thought to Archie, for he resolved to show that
+he could endure suffering as well as any soldier. Another thing that
+helped him very much was the fact, of which his mother reminded him,
+that by trying to be patient he was doing what he could, to please the
+Lord Jesus.
+
+"It was He," she said, "who allowed this trial to come to you, because
+He saw that through it you might grow to be a better and a nobler boy.
+And you will be growing better every day by simply trying to be
+patient, as I see you do."
+
+"I want to be, mamma," Archie answered; "and there's another thing about
+this broken leg, I think it will teach me to care more when other people
+are sick."
+
+"No doubt it will, Archie, and if you learn to exercise patience and
+sympathy, your vacation will not be lost, after all."
+
+
+
+
+A Birthday Story.
+
+BY MRS. M.E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+Jack Hillyard turned over in his hand the few bits of silver which he
+had taken from his little tin savings-bank. There were not very many of
+them, a ten cent piece, a quarter, half a dollar and an old silver
+six-pence. And he had been saving them up a long, long time.
+
+"Well," said Jack to himself, soberly, "there aren't enough to buy
+mother a silk dress, but I think I'll ask Cousin Susy, if she won't
+spend my money and get up a birthday party for the darling little
+mother. A birthday cake, with, let me see, thirty-six candles, that'll
+be a lot, three rows deep, and a big bunch of flowers, and a book.
+Mother's never had a birthday party that I remember. She's always been
+so awfully busy working hard for us, and so awfully tired when night
+came, but I mean her to have one now, or my name's not Jack."
+
+Away went Jack to consult Cousin Susy.
+
+He found her very much occupied with her dressmaking, for she made new
+gowns and capes for all the ladies in town, and she was finishing up
+Miss Kitty Hardy's wedding outfit. With her mouth full of pins, Cousin
+Susy could not talk, but her brown eyes beamed on Jack as she listened
+to his plan. At last she took all the pins out of her mouth, and said:
+
+"Leave it all to me, Jack. We'll give her a surprise party; I'll see
+about everything, dear. Whom shall we ask?"
+
+"When thou makest a dinner or a supper," said Jack, repeating his golden
+text of the last Sunday's lesson, "call not thy friends, nor thy
+kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbors, lest they also bid thee again and a
+recompense be made thee. But when thou makest a feast, call the poor,
+the maimed, the lame, the blind, and thou shalt be blessed, for they
+cannot recompense thee."
+
+"Jack! Jack! Jack!" exclaimed Cousin Susy.
+
+"I was only repeating my last golden text," answered Jack. "We don't
+often have to give a feast, and as it was so extraordinary," said Jack,
+saying the big word impressively, "I thought of my verse. I suppose we'd
+better ask the people mother likes, and they are the poor, the halt, the
+blind, and the deaf; for we haven't any rich neighbors, nor any kinsmen,
+except you, dear Cousin Susy."
+
+"Well, I'm a kinswoman and a neighbor, dear, but I'm not rich. Now, let
+me see," said Miss Susy, smoothing out the shining white folds of Kitty
+Hardy's train. "We will send notes, and you must write them. There is
+old Ralph, the peddler, who is too deaf to hear if you shout at him ever
+and ever so much, but he'll enjoy seeing a good time; and we'll have
+Florrie Maynard, with her crutches and her banjo, and she'll have a
+happy time and sing for us; and Mrs. Maloney, the laundress, with her
+blind Patsy. I don't see Jackie, but you'll have a Scripture party after
+all. Run along and write your letters, and to-night we'll trot around
+and deliver them."
+
+This was the letter Jack wrote:
+
+     "DEAR FRIEND:--My mother's going to have a birthday next
+     Saturday night, and she'll be thirty-six years old. That's pretty
+     old. So I'm going to give her a surprise birthday party, and Cousin
+     Susy's helping me with the surprise. Please come and help too, at
+     eight o'clock sharp.
+
+                          "Yours truly,
+                                                            "JACK."
+
+When this note was received everybody decided to go, and, which Jack did
+not expect, everybody decided to take a present along.
+
+"You'll spend all my money, won't you?" said Jack.
+
+"Certainly, my boy, I will, every penny. Except, perhaps, the old silver
+sixpence. Suppose we give that to the mother as a keepsake?"
+
+"Very well, you know best. All I want is that she shall have a good
+time, a very good time. She's such a good mother."
+
+"Jack," said Susy, "you make me think of some verses I saw in a book
+the other day. Let me read them to you." And Cousin Susy, who had a way
+of copying favorite poems and keeping them, fished out this one from her
+basket:
+
+    LITTLE HANS.
+
+    Little Hans was helping mother
+      Carry home the lady's basket;
+    Chubby hands of course were lifting
+      One great handle--can you ask it?
+    As he tugged away beside her,
+      Feeling oh! so brave and strong,
+    Little Hans was softly singing
+      To himself a little song:
+
+    "Some time I'll be tall as father,
+      Though I think it's very funny,
+    And I'll work and build big houses,
+      And give mother all the money,
+    For," and little Hans stopped singing,
+      Feeling oh! so strong and grand,
+    "I have got the sweetest mother
+      You can find in all the land."
+
+Now, some people couldn't do very much with the funds at Cousin Susy's
+disposal, but she could, and when Jack's money was spent for
+refreshments what do you think they had? Why, a great big pan of
+gingerbread, all marked out in squares with the knife, and raisins in
+it; and a round loaf of cup cake, frosted over with sugar, with
+thirty-six tiny tapers all ready to light, and a pitcher of lemonade, a
+plate of apples, and a big platter of popped corn.
+
+Jack danced for joy, but softly, for mother had come home from her day's
+work and was tired, and the party was to be a surprise, and she was not
+to be allowed to step into the little square parlor.
+
+That parlor was the pride of Jack and his mother. It had a bright rag
+carpet, a table with a marble top, six chairs, and a stool called an
+ottoman. On the wall between the windows hung a framed picture of Jack's
+dear father, who was in heaven, and over the mantelpiece there was a
+framed bouquet of flowers, embroidered by Jack's mother on white satin,
+when she had been a girl at school.
+
+"Seems to me, Jack," said Mrs. Hillyard as she sat down in the kitchen
+to her cup of tea, "there is a smell of fresh gingerbread; I wonder
+who's having company."
+
+Jack almost bit his tongue trying not to laugh.
+
+"Oh!" said he grandly, "gingerbread isn't anything, mamma. When I'm a
+man you shall have pound-cake every day for breakfast."
+
+By and by Mrs. Maloney and Patsy dropped in.
+
+"I thought," said Mrs. Maloney, "it was kind o'lonesome-like at home,
+and I'd step in and see you and Jack to-night, ma'am."
+
+"That was very kind," replied Mrs. Hillyard.
+
+"Why, here comes Mr. Ralph," she added. "Well the more the merrier!"
+
+Tap, tap, tap.
+
+The neighbors kept coming, and coming, and Jack grew more and more
+excited, till at last when all were present, Cousin Susy, opening the
+parlor door, displayed the marble-top of the table covered with a white
+cloth, and there were the refreshments.
+
+"A happy birthday, mother."
+
+"Many returns."
+
+"May you live a hundred years."
+
+One and another had some kind word to say, and each gave a present, a
+card, or a flower, or a trifle of some sort, but with so much good will
+and love that Mrs. Hillyard's face beamed. All day she stood behind a
+counter in a great big shop, and worked hard for her bread and Jack's,
+but when evening came she was a queen at home with her boy and her
+friends to pay her honor.
+
+"And were you surprised, and did you like the cake and the thirty-six
+candles, dearest, darling mamma?" said Jack, when everybody had gone
+home.
+
+"Yes, my own manly little laddie, I liked everything, and I was never so
+surprised in my life." So the birthday party was a great success.
+
+
+
+
+    A Coquette.
+
+    BY AMY PIERCE.
+
+
+    I am never in doubt of her goodness,
+      I am always afraid of her mood,
+    I am never quite sure of her temper,
+      For wilfulness runs in her blood.
+    She is sweet with the sweetness of springtime--
+      A tear and a smile in an hour--
+    Yet I ask not release from her slightest caprice,
+      My love with the face of a flower.
+
+    My love with the grace of the lily
+      That sways on its slender fair stem,
+    My love with the bloom of the rosebud,
+      White pearl in my life's diadem!
+    You may call her coquette if it please you,
+      Enchanting, if shy or if bold,
+    Is my darling, my winsome wee lassie,
+      Whose birthdays are three, when all told.
+
+
+
+
+    Horatius.[1]
+
+    _A Lay Made About the Year of the City CCCLX._
+
+    By T.B. MACAULAY.
+
+
+    I.
+
+    Lars Porsena of Clusium
+      By the Nine Gods he swore
+    That the great house of Tarquin
+      Should suffer wrong no more.
+    By the Nine Gods he swore it,
+      And named a trysting-day,
+    And bade his messengers ride forth,
+    East and west, and south and north,
+      To summon his array.
+
+    II.
+
+    East and west, and south and north,
+      The messengers ride fast,
+    And tower and town and cottage
+      Have heard the trumpet's blast.
+    Shame on the false Etruscan
+      Who lingers in his home,
+    When Porsena of Clusium
+      Is on the march for Rome!
+
+    III.
+
+    The horsemen and the footmen
+      Are pouring in amain,
+    From many a stately market-place,
+      From many a fruitful plain;
+    From many a lonely hamlet,
+      Which, hid by beech and pine,
+    Like an eagle's nest, hangs on the crest
+      Of purple Apennine;
+
+    IV.
+
+    From lordly Volaterræ,
+      Where scowls the far-famed hold
+    Piled by the hands of giants
+      For godlike kings of old;
+    From sea-girt Populonia,
+      Whose sentinels descry
+    Sardinia's snowy mountain-tops
+      Fringing the southern sky;
+
+    V.
+
+    From the proud mart of Pisæ,
+      Queen of the western waves,
+    Where ride Massilia's triremes
+      Heavy with fair-haired slaves;
+    From where sweet Clanis wanders
+      Through corn and vines and flowers;
+    From where Cortona lifts to heaven
+      Her diadem of towers.
+
+    VI.
+
+    Tall are the oaks whose acorns
+      Drop in dark Auser's rill;
+    Fat are the stags that champ the boughs
+      Of the Ciminian hill;
+    Beyond all streams Clitumnus
+      Is to the herdsman dear;
+    Best of all pools the fowler loves
+      The great Volsinian mere.
+
+    VII.
+
+    But now no stroke of woodman
+      Is heard by Auser's rill;
+    No hunter tracks the stag's green path
+      Up the Ciminian hill;
+    Unwatched along Clitumnus
+      Grazes the milk-white steer;
+    Unharmed the water-fowl may dip
+      In the Volsinian mere.
+
+    VIII.
+
+    The harvests of Arretium
+      This year old men shall reap;
+    This year young boys in Umbro
+      Shall plunge the struggling sheep;
+    And in the vats of Luna
+      This year the must shall foam
+    Round the white feet of laughing girls
+      Whose sires have marched to Rome.
+
+    IX.
+
+    There be thirty chosen prophets,
+      The wisest of the land,
+    Who always by Lars Porsena
+      Both morn and evening stand;
+    Evening and morn the Thirty
+      Have turned the verses o'er,
+    Traced from the right on linen white
+      By mighty seers of yore.
+
+    X.
+
+    And with one voice the Thirty
+      Have their glad answer given:
+    "Go forth, go forth, Lars Porsena;
+      Go forth, beloved of Heaven:
+    Go, and return in glory
+      To Clusium's royal dome,
+    And hang round Nurscia's altars
+      The golden shields of Rome."
+
+    XI.
+
+    And now hath every city
+      Sent up her tale of men;
+    The foot are fourscore thousand,
+      The horse are thousands ten.
+    Before the gates of Sutrium
+      Is met the great array.
+    A proud man was Lars Porsena
+      Upon the trysting-day.
+
+    XII.
+
+    For all the Etruscan armies
+      Were ranged beneath his eye,
+    And many a banished Roman,
+      And many a stout ally;
+    And with a mighty following
+      To join the muster came
+    The Tusculan Mamilius,
+      Prince of the Latian name.
+
+    XIII.
+
+    But by the yellow Tiber
+      Was tumult and affright:
+    From all the spacious champaign
+      To Rome men took their flight.
+    A mile around the city
+      The throng stopped up the ways;
+    A fearful sight it was to see
+      Through two long nights and days.
+
+    XIV.
+
+    For aged folk on crutches,
+      And women great with child,
+    And mothers sobbing over babes
+      That clung to them and smiled;
+    And sick men borne in litters
+      High on the necks of slaves,
+    And troops of sunburnt husbandmen
+      With reaping-hooks and staves;
+
+    XV.
+
+    And droves of mules and asses
+      Laden with skins of wine,
+    And endless flocks of goats and sheep,
+      And endless herds of kine,
+    And endless trains of wagons
+      That creaked beneath the weight
+    Of corn-sacks and of household goods,
+      Choked every roaring gate.
+
+    XVI.
+
+    Now, from the rock Tarpeian,
+      Could the wan burghers spy
+    The line of blazing villages
+      Red in the midnight sky,
+    The Fathers of the City,
+      They sat all night and day,
+    For every hour some horseman came
+      With tidings of dismay.
+
+    XVII.
+
+    To eastward and to westward
+      Have spread the Tuscan bands;
+    Nor house nor fence nor dovecot
+      In Crustumerium stands.
+    Verbenna down to Ostia
+      Hath wasted all the plain;
+    Astur hath stormed Janiculum,
+      And the stout guards are slain.
+
+    XVIII.
+
+    I wis, in all the Senate,
+      There was no heart so bold
+    But sore it ached and fast it beat
+      When that ill news was told.
+    Forthwith up rose the Consul,
+      Up rose the Fathers all;
+    In haste they girded up their gowns
+      And hied them to the wall.
+
+    XIX.
+
+    They held a council standing
+      Before the River Gate;
+    Short time was there, ye well may guess,
+      For musing or debate.
+    Out spake the Consul roundly,
+      "The bridge must straight go down,
+    For, since Janiculum is lost,
+      Naught else can save the town."
+
+    XX.
+
+    Just then a scout came flying,
+      All wild with haste and fear:
+    "To arms! to arms! Sir Consul;
+      Lars Porsena is here!"
+    On the low hills to westward
+      The Consul fixed his eye,
+    And saw the swarthy storm of dust
+      Rise fast along the sky.
+
+    XXI.
+
+    And nearer fast, and nearer,
+      Doth the red whirlwind come;
+    And louder still, and still more loud,
+    From underneath that rolling cloud,
+    Is heard the trumpet's war-note proud,
+      The trampling and the hum.
+    And plainly and more plainly
+      Now through the gloom appears,
+    Far to left and far to right,
+    In broken gleams of dark-blue light,
+    The long array of helmets bright,
+      The long array of spears.
+
+    XXII.
+
+    And plainly and more plainly,
+      Above that glimmering line,
+    Now might ye see the banners
+      Of twelve fair cities shine;
+    But the banner of proud Clusium
+      Was highest of them all,
+    The terror of the Umbrian,
+      The terror of the Gaul.
+
+    XXIII.
+
+    And plainly and more plainly.
+      Now might the burghers know,
+    By port and vest, by horse and crest,
+      Each warlike Lucumo.
+    There Cilnius of Arretium
+      On his fleet roan was seen;
+    And Astur of the fourfold shield,
+    Girt with the brand none else may wield,
+    Tolumnius with the belt of gold,
+    And dark Verbenna from the hold
+      By reedy Thrasymene.
+
+    XXIV.
+
+    Fast by the royal standard,
+      O'erlooking all the war,
+    Lars Porsena of Clusium
+      Sat in his ivory car.
+    By the right wheel rode Mamilius,
+      Prince of the Latian name;
+    And by the left false Sextus,
+      That wrought the deed of shame.
+
+    XXV.
+
+    But when the face of Sextus
+      Was seen among the foes,
+    A yell that rent the firmament
+      From all the town arose.
+    On the house-tops was no woman
+      But spat toward him and hissed,
+    No child but screamed out curses
+      And shook its little fist.
+
+    XXVI.
+
+    But the Consul's brow was sad,
+      And the Consul's speech was low,
+    And darkly looked he at the wall,
+      And darkly at the foe.
+    "Their van will be upon us
+      Before the bridge goes down;
+    And if they once may win the bridge
+      What hope to save the town?"
+
+    XXVII.
+
+    Then out spake brave Horatius,
+      The Captain of the Gate:
+    "To every man upon this earth
+      Death cometh soon or late.
+    And how can man die better
+      Than facing fearful odds,
+    For the ashes of his fathers
+      And the temples of his gods.
+
+    XXVIII.
+
+    "And for the tender mother
+      Who dandled him to rest,
+    And for the wife who nurses
+      His baby at her breast,
+    And for the holy maidens
+      Who feed the eternal flame,
+    To save them from false Sextus
+      That wrought the deed of shame?
+
+    XXIX.
+
+    "Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,
+      With all the speed ye may;
+    I, with two more to help me,
+      Will hold the foe in play.
+    In yon strait path a thousand
+      May well be stopped by three.
+    Now who will stand on either hand,
+      And keep the bridge with me?"
+
+    XXX.
+
+    Then out spake Spurius Lartius,
+      A Ramnian proud was he:
+    "Lo, I will stand at thy right hand
+      And keep the bridge with thee."
+    And out spake strong Herminius,
+      Of Titian blood was he:
+    "I will abide on thy left side,
+      And keep the bridge with thee."
+
+    XXXI.
+
+    "Horatius," quoth the Consul,
+      "As thou sayest, so let it be."
+    And straight against that great array
+      Forth went the dauntless Three.
+    For Romans in Rome's quarrel
+      Spared neither land nor gold,
+    Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life,
+      In the brave days of old.
+
+    XXXII.
+
+    Then none was for a party;
+      Then all were for the State;
+    Then the great man helped the poor,
+      And the poor man loved the great;
+    Then lands were fairly portioned;
+      Then spoils were fairly sold;
+    The Romans were like brothers
+      In the brave days of old.
+
+    XXXIII.
+
+    Now Roman is to Roman
+      More hateful than a foe;
+    And the Tribunes beard the high,
+      And the Fathers grind the low.
+    As we wax hot in faction,
+      In battle we wax cold;
+    Wherefore men fight not as they fought
+      In the brave days of old.
+
+    XXXIV.
+
+    Now while the Three were tightening
+      Their harness on their backs,
+    The Consul was the foremost man
+      To take in hand an axe;
+    And Fathers mixed with Commons
+      Seized hatchet, bar, and crow,
+    And smote upon the planks above,
+      And loosed the props below.
+
+    XXXV.
+
+    Meanwhile the Tuscan army,
+      Right glorious to behold,
+    Came flashing back the noonday light,
+    Rank behind rank, like surges bright
+      Of a broad sea of gold.
+    Four hundred trumpets sounded
+      A peal of warlike glee,
+    As that great host, with measured tread,
+    And spears advanced, and ensigns spread,
+    Rolled slowly toward the bridge's head,
+      Where stood the dauntless Three.
+
+    XXXVI.
+
+    The Three stood calm and silent
+      And looked upon the foes,
+    And a great shout of laughter
+      From all the vanguard rose;
+    And forth three chiefs came spurring
+      Before that deep array:
+    To earth they sprang, their swords they drew,
+    And lifted high their shields, and flew
+      To win the narrow way.
+
+    XXXVII.
+
+    Aunus from green Tifernum,
+      Lord of the Hill of Vines;
+    And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves
+      Sicken in Ilva's mines;
+    And Picus, long to Clusium
+      Vassal in peace and war,
+    Who led to fight his Umbrian powers
+    From that gray crag where, girt with towers,
+    The fortress of Nequinum lowers
+      O'er the pale waves of Nar.
+
+    XXXVIII.
+
+    Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus
+      Into the stream beneath;
+    Herminius struck at Seius,
+      And clove him to the teeth;
+    At Picus brave Horatius
+      Darted one fiery thrust,
+    And the proud Umbrian's gilded arms
+      Clashed in the bloody dust.
+
+    XXXIX.
+
+    Then Ocnus of Falerii
+      Rushed on the Roman Three;
+    And Lausulus of Urgo,
+      The rover of the sea;
+    And Aruns of Volsinium,
+      Who slew the great wild boar,
+    The great wild boar that had his den
+    Amidst the reeds of Cosa's fen,
+    And wasted fields and slaughtered men
+      Along Albinia's shore.
+
+    XL.
+
+    Herminius smote down Aruns;
+      Lartius laid Ocnus low;
+    Right to the heart of Lausulus
+      Horatius sent a blow.
+    "Lie there," he cried, "fell pirate!
+      No more, aghast and pale,
+    From Ostia's walls the crowd shall mark
+    The track of thy destroying bark.
+    No more Campania's hinds shall fly
+    To woods and caverns when they spy
+      Thy thrice accursed sail."
+
+    XLI.
+
+    But now no sound of laughter
+      Was heard among the foes;
+    A wild and wrathful clamor
+      From all the vanguard rose.
+    Six spears' length from the entrance
+      Halted that deep array,
+    And for a space no man came forth
+      To win the narrow way.
+
+    XLII.
+
+    But hark! the cry is Astur;
+      And lo! the ranks divide,
+    And the great Lord of Luna
+      Comes with his stately stride.
+    Upon his ample shoulders
+      Clangs loud the fourfold shield,
+    And in his hand he shakes the brand
+      Which none but he can wield.
+
+    XLIII.
+
+    He smiled on those bold Romans
+      A smile serene and high;
+    He eyed the flinching Tuscans,
+      And scorn was in his eye.
+    Quoth he, "The she-wolf's litter
+      Stand savagely at bay;
+    But will ye dare to follow,
+      If Astur clears the way?"
+
+    XLIV.
+
+    Then, whirling up his broadsword
+      With both hands to the height,
+    He rushed against Horatius,
+      And smote with all his might.
+    With shield and blade Horatius
+      Right deftly turned the blow.
+    The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh;
+    It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh;
+    The Tuscans raised a joyful cry
+      To see the red blood flow.
+
+    XLV.
+
+    He reeled and on Herminius
+      He leaned one breathing-space,
+    Then, like a wild cat mad with wounds,
+      Sprang right at Astur's face.
+    Through teeth and skull and helmet
+      So fierce a thrust he sped,
+    The good sword stood a hand-breadth out
+      Behind the Tuscan's head.
+
+    XLVI.
+
+    And the great Lord of Luna
+      Fell at that deadly stroke,
+    As falls on Mount Alvernus
+      A thunder-smitten oak.
+    Far o'er the crashing forest
+      The giant arms lie spread;
+    And the pale augurs, muttering low,
+      Gaze on the blasted head.
+
+    XLVII.
+
+    On Astur's throat Horatius
+      Right firmly pressed his heel,
+    And thrice and four times tugged amain
+      Ere he wrenched out the steel.
+    "And see," he cried, "the welcome,
+      Fair guests that wait you here!
+    What noble Lucumo comes next
+      To taste our Roman cheer?"
+
+    XLVIII.
+
+    But at his haughty challenge
+      A sullen murmur ran,
+    Mingled of wrath and shame and dread,
+      Along that glittering van.
+    There lacked not men of prowess,
+      Nor men of lordly race;
+    For all Etruria's noblest
+      Were round the fatal place.
+
+    XLIX.
+
+    But all Etruria's noblest
+      Felt their hearts sink to see
+    On the earth the bloody corpses,
+      In the path of the dauntless Three;
+    And, from the ghastly entrance
+      Where those bold Romans stood,
+    All shrank, like boys who, unaware,
+    Ranging the woods to start a hare,
+    Come to the mouth of the dark lair
+    Where, growling low, a fierce old bear
+      Lies amidst bones and blood.
+
+    L.
+
+    Was none who would be foremost
+      To lead such dire attack;
+    But those behind cried "Forward!"
+       And those before cried "Back!"
+    And backward now and forward
+      Wavers the deep array;
+    And on the tossing sea of steel
+    To and fro the standards reel,
+    And the victorious trumpet-peal
+      Dies fitfully away.
+
+    LI.
+
+    Yet one man for one moment
+       Strode out before the crowd;
+    Well known was he to all the Three,
+       And they gave him greeting loud.
+    "Now welcome, welcome, Sextus!
+      Now welcome to thy home!
+    Why dost thou stay and turn away?
+      Here lies the road to Rome."
+
+    LII.
+
+    Thrice looked he at the city,
+      Thrice looked he at the dead;
+    And thrice came on in fury,
+      And thrice turned back in dread;
+    And, white with fear and hatred,
+      Scowled at the narrow way
+    Where, wallowing in a pool of blood,
+      The bravest Tuscans lay.
+
+    LIII.
+
+    But meanwhile axe and lever
+      Have manfully been plied,
+    And now the bridge hangs tottering
+      Above the boiling tide.
+    "Come back, come back, Horatius!"
+      Loud cried the Fathers all.
+    "Back, Lartius! back, Herminius!
+      Back, ere the ruin fall!"
+
+    LIV.
+
+    Back darted Spurius Lartius,
+      Herminius darted back;
+    And, as they passed, beneath their feet
+      They felt the timbers crack.
+    But when they turned their faces,
+      And on the farther shore
+    Saw brave Horatius stand alone,
+      They would have crossed once more.
+
+    LV.
+
+    But with a crash like thunder
+      Fell every loosened beam,
+    And, like a dam, the mighty wreck
+      Lay right athwart the stream;
+    And a long shout of triumph
+      Rose from the walls of Rome,
+    As to the highest turret tops
+      Was splashed the yellow foam.
+
+    LVI.
+
+    And, like a horse unbroken
+      When first he feels the rein,
+    The furious river struggled hard,
+      And tossed his tawny mane,
+    And burst the curb and bounded,
+      Rejoicing to be free,
+    And, whirling down in fierce career
+    Battlement and plank and pier,
+      Rushed headlong to the sea.
+
+    LVII.
+
+    Alone stood brave Horatius,
+      But constant still in mind,
+    Thrice thirty thousand foes before
+      And the broad flood behind.
+    "Down with him!" cried false Sextus,
+      With a smile on his pale face.
+    "Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena,
+      "Now yield thee to our grace."
+
+    LVIII.
+
+    Round turned he, as not deigning
+      Those craven ranks to see;
+    Naught spake he to Lars Porsena,
+      To Sextus naught spake he;
+    But he saw on Palatinus
+      The white porch of his home,
+    And he spake to the noble river
+      That rolls by the towers of Rome:
+
+    LIX.
+
+    "O Tiber! father Tiber!
+      To whom the Romans pray,
+    A Roman's life, a Roman's arms,
+      Take thou in charge this day!"
+    So he spake, and speaking sheathed
+      The good sword by his side,
+    And with his harness on his back
+      Plunged headlong in the tide.
+
+    LX.
+
+    No sound of joy or sorrow
+      Was heard from either bank,
+    But friends and foes in dumb surprise,
+    With parted lips and straining eyes,
+      Stood gazing where he sank;
+    And when above the surges
+      They saw his crest appear,
+    All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry,
+    And even the ranks of Tuscany
+      Could scarce forbear to cheer.
+
+    LXI.
+
+    But fiercely ran the current,
+      Swollen high by months of rain;
+    And fast his blood was flowing,
+     And he was sore in pain,
+    And heavy with his armor,
+      And spent with changing blows;
+    And oft they thought him sinking,
+      But still again he rose.
+
+    LXII.
+
+    Never, I ween, did swimmer,
+      In such an evil case,
+    Struggle through such a raging flood
+      Safe to the landing-place;
+    But his limbs were borne up bravely
+      By the brave heart within,
+    And our good father Tiber
+      Bore bravely up his chin.
+
+    LXIII.
+
+    "Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus;
+      "Will not the villain drown?
+    But for this stay, ere close of day,
+      We should have sacked the town!"
+    "Heaven help him!" quoth Lars Porsena,
+      "And bring him safe to shore;
+    For such a gallant feat of arms
+      Was never seen before."
+
+    LXIV.
+
+    And now he feels the bottom;
+      Now on dry earth he stands;
+    Now round him throng the Fathers
+      To press his gory hands;
+    And now, with shouts and clapping
+      And noise of weeping loud,
+    He enters through the River Gate,
+      Borne by the joyous crowd.
+
+    LXV.
+
+    They gave him of the corn-land,
+      That was of public right,
+    As much as two strong oxen
+      Could plow from morn till night;
+    And they made a molten image
+      And set it up on high,
+    And there it stands unto this day
+      To witness if I lie.
+
+    LXVI.
+
+    It stands in the Comitium,
+      Plain for all folk to see,
+    Horatius in his harness
+      Halting upon one knee;
+    And underneath is written,
+      In letters all of gold,
+    How valiantly he kept the bridge
+      In the brave days of old.
+
+    LXVII.
+
+    And still his name sounds stirring
+      Unto the men of Rome,
+    As the trumpet-blast that cries to them
+      To charge the Volscian home;
+    And wives still pray to Juno
+      For boys with hearts as bold
+    As his who kept the bridge so well
+      In the brave days of old.
+
+    LXVIII.
+
+    And in the nights of winter,
+      When the cold north winds blow,
+    And the long howling of the wolves
+      Is heard amidst the snow;
+    When round the lonely cottage
+      Roars loud the tempest's din,
+    And the good logs of Algidus
+      Roar louder yet within;
+
+    LXIX.
+
+    When the oldest cask is opened,
+      And the largest lamp is lit;
+    When the chestnuts glow in the embers,
+      And the kid turns on the spit;
+    When young and old in circle
+      Around the firebrands close;
+    When the girls are weaving baskets,
+      And the lads are shaping bows;
+
+    LXX.
+
+    When the goodman mends his armor,
+      And trims his helmet's plume;
+    When the goodwife's shuttle merrily
+      Goes flashing through the loom;
+    With weeping and with laughter
+      Still is the story told,
+    How well Horatius kept the bridge
+      In the brave days of old.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 1: Lord Macaulay's ballad should be known by heart by every
+schoolboy. It is the finest of the famous "Lays of Ancient Rome."]
+
+
+
+
+A Bit of Brightness.
+
+BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.
+
+
+It not only rained, but it poured; so the brightness was certainly not
+in the sky. It was Sunday, too, and that fact, so Phoebe thought,
+added to the gloominess of the storm. For Phoebe had left behind her
+the years in which she had been young and strong, and in which she had
+no need to regard the weather. Now if she went out in the rain she was
+sure to suffer afterward with rheumatism, so, of course, a day like this
+made her a prisoner within doors. There she had not very much to occupy
+her. She and her husband, Gardener Jim, lived so simply that it was a
+small matter to prepare and clear away their meals, and, that being
+attended to, what was there for her to do?
+
+Phoebe had never been much of a scholar, and reading even the
+coarse-print Bible, seemed to try her eyes. Knitting on Sunday was not
+to be thought of, and there was nobody passing by to be watched and
+criticised. Altogether Phoebe considered it a very dreary day.
+
+As for Gardener Jim, he had his pipe to comfort him. All the same he
+heaved a sigh now and then, as if to say, "O dear! I wish things were
+not quite so dull."
+
+In the big house near by lived Jim's employer, Mr. Stevens. There
+matters were livelier, for there were living five healthy, happy
+children, whose mother scarcely knew the meaning of the word quiet. When
+it drew near two o'clock in the afternoon they were all begging to be
+allowed to go to Sunday-school.
+
+"You'll let me go, won't you, ma?" cried Jessie, the oldest, and Tommy
+and Nellie and Johnny and even baby Clara echoed the petition. Mrs.
+Stevens thought the thing over and decided that Jessie and Tommy might
+go. For the others, she would have Sunday-school at home.
+
+"Be sure to put on your high rubbers and your water-proofs and take
+umbrellas." These were the mother's instructions as the two left the
+family sitting-room. A few moments after, Jessie looked in again. "Well,
+you are wrapped up!" exclaimed Mrs. Stevens, "I don't think the storm
+can hurt you." "Neither do I, ma, and Oh! I forgot to ask you before,
+may we stop at Gardener Jim's on the way home?"
+
+"Yes, if you'll be careful not to make any trouble for him and Phoebe,
+and will come home before supper-time."
+
+Tommy, who was standing behind Jessie in the doorway, suppressed the
+hurrah that rose to his lips. He remembered that it was Sunday and that
+his mother would not approve of his making a great noise on the holy
+day.
+
+He and Jessie had quite a hard tramp to the little chapel in which the
+school was held. The graveled sidewalks were covered with that
+uncomfortable mixture of snow and water known as slush, which beside
+being wet was cold and slippery, so that walking was no easy thing. Yet
+what did that matter after they had reached the school?
+
+Their teachers were there, and so was the superintendent, and so were
+nearly half of the scholars. Theirs was a wide-awake school, you see,
+and it did not close on account of weather.
+
+Each of the girls in Jessie's class was asked to recite a verse that she
+had chosen through the week. Jessie's was this:
+
+"To do good and to communicate forget not, for with such sacrifices God
+is well pleased."
+
+The teacher talked a little about it and Jessie thought it over on her
+way to Gardener Jim's. The result was that she said to her brother:
+
+"Tommy, you know mother said we must not trouble Jim and Phoebe."
+
+"Yes, I know it, but I don't think we will, do you?"
+
+"No, I'm sure they'll be glad to see us, but I was thinking we might do
+something to make them very glad. Suppose that while we're in there, I
+read to them from the Bible, and then we sing to them two or three of
+our hymns."
+
+"What a queer girl you are, Jess! Anybody would think that you were a
+minister going to hold church in the cottage. But I'm agreed, if you
+want to; I like singing anyway. It seems to let off a little of the 'go'
+in a fellow."
+
+By this time they had reached the cottage, and if they had been a prince
+and princess--supposing that such titled personages were living in these
+United States--they could not have had a warmer welcome. Gardener Jim
+opened the door in such haste that he scattered the ashes from his pipe
+over the rag-carpet on the floor. Phoebe, too, contrived to drop her
+spectacles while she was saying "How do you do," and it took at least
+three minutes to find them again.
+
+At length, however, the surprise being over, the children removed their
+wraps, Jim refilled his pipe, and Phoebe settled herself in her chair.
+She was slowly revolving in her mind the question whether it would be
+best to offer her visitors a lunch of cookies or one of apples, when
+Jessie said:
+
+"Phoebe, wouldn't you like to have me read you a chapter or two?"
+
+"'Deed and I would, miss, and I'd be that grateful that I couldn't
+express myself. My eyes, you see, are getting old, and Jim's not much
+better, and neither of us was ever a scholard."
+
+So Jessie read in her sweet, clear voice the chapters beloved in palace
+and in cottage, about the holy city New Jerusalem, and about the pure
+river of water of life, clear as crystal; about the tree whose leaves
+are for the healing of the nations; about the place where they need no
+candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light;
+and they shall reign for ever and ever.
+
+"Dear me, dear me!" exclaimed Phoebe, "it seems almost like being
+there, doesn't it? Now I'll have something to think of to-night if I lie
+awake with the rheumatism."
+
+"We're going to sing to you, too," was Tommy's rejoinder.
+
+Then he and Jessie sang "It's coming, coming nearer, that lovely land
+unseen," and "O, think of the home over there" and Phoebe's favorite:
+
+    "In the far better land of glory and light
+    The ransomed are singing in garments of white,
+    The harpers are harping and all the bright train
+    Sing the song of redemption, the Lamb that was slain."
+
+Jim wiped his eyes as they finished. He and Phoebe had once had a
+little boy and girl, but both had long, long been in the "better land."
+Yet though he wept it was in gladness, for the reading and singing had
+seemed to open a window through which he might look into the streets of
+the heavenly city.
+
+Thus Tommy and Jessie had brought sunshine to the cottage on that rainy
+Sunday afternoon. They had given the cup of cold water--surely they had
+their reward.
+
+
+
+
+How Sammy Earned the Prize.
+
+BY MRS. M.E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+"And now," said the Principal, looking keenly and pleasantly through his
+spectacles, "I have another prize offer to announce. Besides the prizes
+for the best scholarship, and the best drawing and painting, and for
+punctuality, I am authorized by the Trustees of this Academy to offer a
+prize for valor. Fifty dollars in gold will be given the student who
+shows the most courage and bravery during the next six months."
+
+Fifty dollars in gold! The sum sounded immense in the ears of the boys,
+not one of whom had ever had five dollars for his very own at one time,
+that is in one lump sum. As they went home one and another wondered
+where the chance to show true courage was to come in their prosaic
+lives.
+
+"It isn't the time when knights go round to rescue forlorn ladies and do
+brave deeds," said Johnny Smith, ruefully.
+
+"No, and there never are any fires in Scott-town, or mad dogs, or
+anything," added Billy Thorne.
+
+"But Sammy Slocum said nothing at all," Billy told his mother. "Old
+Sammy's a bit of a coward. He faints when he sees blood. Of course he
+knows he can't get the prize for valor, or any prize for that matter.
+His mother has to take in washing."
+
+"William," said Billy's father, who had just entered, "that is a very
+un-American way of speaking. If I were dead and buried your mother might
+have to take in washing, and it would do her no discredit. Honest work
+is honest work. Sammy is a very straight sort of boy. He's been helping
+at the store Saturday mornings, and I like the boy. He's got pluck."
+
+"Six months give a fellow time to turn round, any way," said Billy, as
+the family sat down to supper.
+
+It was September when this conversation took place, and it was December
+before the teachers, who were watching the boys' daily records very
+carefully, had the least idea who would get the prize for valor.
+
+"Perhaps we cannot award it this year," said the Principal. "Fifty
+dollars should not be thrown away, nor a prize really bestowed on
+anybody who has not merited it."
+
+"There are chances for heroism in the simplest and most humble life,"
+answered little Miss Riggs, the composition teacher.
+
+That December was awfully cold. Storm and wind and snow. Blizzard and
+gale and hurricane. You never saw anything like it. In the middle of
+December the sexton was taken down with rheumatic fever, and there
+wasn't a soul to ring the bell, or clear away the snow, or keep fires
+going in the church, and not a man in the parish was willing to take the
+extra work upon him. The old sexton was a good deal worried, for he
+needed the little salary so much that he couldn't bear to give it up,
+and in that village church there was no money to spare.
+
+Sammy's mother sent bowls and pitchers of gruel and other things of the
+sort to the sick man, and when Sammy took them he heard the talk of the
+sexton and his wife. One night he came home, saying:
+
+"Mother, I've made a bargain with Mr. Anderson, I'm going to be the
+sexton of the church for the next three months."
+
+"You, my boy, you're not strong enough. It's hard work shoveling snow
+and breaking paths, and ringing the bell, and having the church warm on
+Sunday, and the lamps filled and lighted. And you have your chores to do
+at home."
+
+"Yes, dear mammy, I'll manage; I'll go round and get the clothes for
+you, and carry them home and do every single thing, just the same as
+ever, and I'll try to keep Mr. Anderson's place for him too."
+
+"I don't know that I ought to let you," said his mother.
+
+But she did consent.
+
+Then began Sammy's trial. He never had a moment to play. Other boys
+could go skating on Saturday, but he had to stay around the church, and
+dust and sweep, and put the cushions down in the pews, and see that the
+old stoves were all right, as to dampers and draughts, bring coal up
+from the cellar, have wood split, lamps filled, wicks cut, chimneys
+polished. The big bell was hard to ring, hard for a fourteen-year-old
+boy. At first, for the fun of it, some of the other boys helped him pull
+the rope, but their enthusiasm soon cooled. Day in, day out, the stocky,
+sturdy form of Samuel might be seen, manfully plodding through all
+varieties of weather, and he had a good-morning or a good-evening ready
+for all he met. When he learned his lessons was a puzzle, but learn them
+he did, and nobody could complain that in anything he fell off, though
+his face did sometimes wear a preoccupied look, and his mother said that
+at night he slept like the dead and she just hated to have to call him
+in the morning. Through December and January and February and March,
+Sammy made as good a sexton as the church had ever had, and by April,
+Mr. Anderson was well again.
+
+The queer thing about it all was that Sammy had forgotten the prize for
+valor altogether. Nothing was said about it in school, and most of the
+boys were so busy looking out for brave deeds to come their way, that
+if one had appeared, they would not have recognized it. In fact,
+everybody thought the prize for valor was going by the board.
+
+Till July came. And then, when the visitors were there, and the prizes
+were all given out, the President looked keenly through his spectacles
+and said:
+
+"Will Master Samuel Slocum step forward to the platform?"
+
+Modestly blushing, up rose Sammy, and somewhat awkwardly he made his way
+to the front.
+
+"Last winter," said the President, "there was a boy who not only did his
+whole duty in our midst, but denied himself for another, undertook hard
+work for many weeks, without pay and without shirking. We all know his
+name. Here he stands. To Samuel Slocum the committee award the prize for
+valor."
+
+He put five shining ten-dollar pieces into Sammy's hard brown hand.
+
+
+
+
+    The Glorious Fourth.
+
+
+    Hurrah for the Fourth, the glorious Fourth,
+      The day we all love best,
+    When East and West and South and North,
+      No boy takes breath or rest.
+    When the banners float and the bugles blow,
+      And drums are on the street,
+    Throbbing and thrilling, and fifes are shrilling,
+      And there's tread of marching feet.
+
+    Hurrah for the nation's proudest day,
+      The day that made us free!
+    Let our cheers ring out in a jubilant shout
+      Far over land and sea.
+    Hurrah for the flag on the school-house roof,
+      Hurrah for the white church spire!
+    For the homes we love, and the tools we wield,
+      And the light of the household fire.
+
+    Hurrah, hurrah for the Fourth of July,
+      The day we love and prize,
+    When there's wonderful light on this fair green earth,
+      And beautiful light in the skies.
+
+
+
+
+The Middle Daughter.
+
+BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+AT THE MANSE.
+
+
+"I am troubled and low in my mind," said our mother, looking pensively
+out of the window. "I am really extremely anxious about the
+Wainwrights."
+
+It was a dull and very chilly day in the late autumn. Fog hid the hills;
+wet leaves soaked into the soft ground; the trees dripped with moisture;
+every little while down came the rain, now a pour, then a drizzle--a
+depressing sort of day.
+
+Our village of Highland, in the Ramapo, is perfectly enchanting in clear
+brilliant weather, and turn where you will, you catch a fine view of
+mountain, or valley, or brown stream, or tumbling cascade. On a snowy
+winter day it is divine; but in the fall, when there is mist hanging its
+gray pall over the landscape, or there are dark low-hanging clouds with
+steady pouring rain, the weather, it must be owned, is depressing in
+Highland. That is, if one cares about weather. Some people always rise
+above it, which is the better way.
+
+I must explain mamma's interest in the Wainwrights. They are our dear
+friends, but not our neighbors, as they were before Dr. Wainwright went
+to live at Wishing-Brae, which was a family place left him by his
+brother; rather a tumble-down old place, but big, and with fields and
+meadows around it, and a great rambling garden. The Wainwrights were
+expecting their middle daughter, Grace, home from abroad.
+
+Few people in Highland have ever been abroad; New York, or Chicago, or
+Omaha, or Denver is far enough away for most of us. But Grace
+Wainwright, when she was ten, had been borrowed by a childless uncle and
+aunt, who wanted to adopt her, and begged Dr. Wainwright, who had seven
+children and hardly any money, to give them one child on whom they could
+spend their heaps of money. But no, the doctor and Mrs. Wainwright
+wouldn't hear of anything except a loan, and so Grace had been lent, in
+all, eight years; seven she had spent at school, and one in Paris,
+Berlin, Florence, Venice, Rome, the Alps. Think of it, how splendid and
+charming!
+
+Uncle Ralph and Aunt Hattie did not like to give her up now, but Grace,
+we heard, would come. She wanted to see her mother and her own kin;
+maybe she felt she ought.
+
+At the Manse we had just finished prayers. Papa was going to his study.
+He wore his Friday-morning face--a sort of preoccupied pucker between
+his eyebrows, and a far-away look in his eyes. Friday is the day he
+finishes up his sermons for Sunday, and, as a matter of course, we never
+expect him to be delayed or bothered by our little concerns till he has
+them off his mind. Sermons in our house have the right of way.
+
+Prayers had been shorter than usual this morning, and we had sung only
+two stanzas of the hymn, instead of four or five. Usually if mamma is
+anxious about anybody or anything, papa is all sympathy and attention.
+But not on a Friday. He paid no heed either to her tone or her words,
+but only said impressively:
+
+"My love, please do not allow me to be disturbed in any way you can
+avoid between this and the luncheon hour; and keep the house as quiet as
+you can. I dislike being troublesome, but I've had so many interruptions
+this week; what with illness in the congregation, and funerals, and
+meetings every night, my work for Sunday is not advanced very far.
+Children, I rely on you all to help me," and with a patient smile, and a
+little wave of the hand quite characteristic, papa withdrew.
+
+We heard him moving about in his study, which was over the sitting-room,
+and then there came a scrape of his chair upon the floor, and a
+creaking sound as he settled into it by the table. Papa was safely out
+of the way for the next four or five hours. I would have to be a
+watchdog to keep knocks from his door.
+
+"I should think," said Amy, pertly, tossing her curls, "that when papa
+has so much to do he'd just go and do it, not stand here talking and
+wasting time. It's the same thing week after week. Such a martyr."
+
+"Amy," said mamma, severely, "don't speak of your father in that
+flippant manner. Why are _you_ lounging here so idly? Gather up the
+books, put this room in order, and then, with Laura's assistance, I
+would like you this morning to clean the china closet. Every cup and
+saucer and plate must be taken down and wiped separately, after being
+dipped into hot soap-suds and rinsed in hot water; the shelves all
+washed and dried, and the corners carefully gone over. See how thorough
+you can be, my dears," said mamma in her sweetest tones. I wondered
+whether she had known that Amy had planned to spend the rainy morning
+finishing the hand-screen she is painting for grandmother's birthday.
+From her looks nothing could be gathered. Mamma's blue eyes can look as
+unconscious of intention as a child's when she chooses to reprove, and
+yet does not wish to seem censorious. Amy is fifteen, and very
+headstrong, as indeed we all are, but even Amy never dreams of hinting
+that she would like to do something else than what mamma prefers when
+mamma arranges things in her quiet yet masterful fashion. Dear little
+mamma. All her daughters except Jessie are taller than herself; but
+mother is queen of the Manse, nevertheless.
+
+Amy went off, having with a few deft touches set the library in order,
+piling the Bibles and hymn books on the little stand in the corner, and
+giving a pat here and a pull there to the cushions, rugs, and curtains,
+went pleasantly to begin her hated task of going over the china closet.
+Laura followed her.
+
+Elbert, our seventeen-year-old brother, politely held open the door for
+the girls to pass through.
+
+"You see, Amy dear," he said, compassionately, "what comes on reflecting
+upon papa. It takes some people a long while to learn wisdom."
+
+Amy made a little _moue_ at him.
+
+"I don't mind particularly," she said. "Come, Lole, when a thing's to be
+done, the best way is to do it and not fuss nor fret. I ought not to
+have said that; I knew it would vex dear mamma; but papa provokes me so
+with his solemn directions, as if the whole house did not always hold
+its breath when he is in the study. Come, Lole, let's do this work as
+well as we can." Amy's sunshiny disposition matches her quick temper.
+She may say a quick word on the impulse of the moment, but she makes up
+for it afterward by her loving ways.
+
+"It isn't the week for doing this closet, Amy," said Laura. "Why didn't
+you tell mamma so? You wanted to paint in your roses and clematis before
+noon, didn't you? I think it mean. Things are so contrary," and Laura
+sighed.
+
+"Oh, never mind, dear! this won't be to do next week. I think mamma was
+displeased and spoke hastily. Mamma and I are so much alike that we
+understand one another. I suppose I am just the kind of girl she used to
+be, and I hope I'll be the kind of woman she is when I grow up. I'm
+imitating mother all I can."
+
+Laura laughed. "Well, Amy, you'd never be so popular in your husband's
+congregation as mamma is--never. You haven't so much tact; I don't
+believe you'll ever have it, either."
+
+"I haven't yet, of course; but I'd have more tact if I were a grown-up
+lady and married to a clergyman. I don't think, though, I'll ever marry
+a minister," said Amy, with grave determination, handing down a
+beautiful salad-bowl, which Laura received in both hands with the
+reverence due to a treasured possession. "It's the prettiest thing we
+own," said Amy, feeling the smooth satiny surface lovingly, and holding
+it up against her pink cheek. "Isn't it scrumptious, Laura?"
+
+"Well," said Laura, "it's nice, but not so pretty as the tea-things
+which belonged to Great-aunt Judith. They are my pride. This does not
+compare."
+
+"Well, perhaps not in one way, for they are family pieces, and prove we
+came out of the ark. But the salad-bowl is a beauty. I don't object to
+the care of china myself. It is ladies' work. It surprises me that
+people ever are willing to trust their delicate china to clumsy maids. I
+wouldn't if I had gems and gold like a princess, instead of being only
+the daughter of a poor country clergyman. I'd always wash my own nice
+dishes with my own fair hands."
+
+"That shows your Southern breeding," said Laura. "Southern women always
+look after their china and do a good deal of the dainty part of the
+housekeeping. Mamma learned that when she was a little girl living in
+Richmond."
+
+"'Tisn't only Southern breeding," said Amy. "Our Holland-Dutch ancestors
+had the same elegant ways of taking care of their property. I'm writing
+a paper on 'Dutch Housewifery' for the next meeting of the
+Granddaughters of the Revolution, and you'll find out a good many
+interesting points if you listen to it."
+
+"Amy Raeburn!" exclaimed Laura, admiringly, "I expect you'll write a
+book one of these days."
+
+"I certainly intend to," replied Amy, with dignity, handing down a fat
+Dutch cream-jug, and at the moment incautiously jarring the step-ladder,
+so that, cream-jug and all, she fell to the floor. Fortunately the
+precious pitcher escaped injury; but Amy's sleeve caught on a nail, and
+as she jerked it away in her fall it loosened a shelf and down crashed a
+whole pile of the second-best dinner plates, making a terrific noise,
+which startled the whole house.
+
+Papa, in his study, groaned, and probably tore in two a closely written
+sheet of notes. Mamma and the girls came flying in. Amy picked herself
+up from the floor; there was a great red bruise and a scratch on her
+arm.
+
+"Oh, you poor child!" said mother, gauging the extent of the accident
+with a rapid glance. "Never mind," she said, relieved; "there isn't much
+harm done. Those are the plates the Ladies' Aid Society in Archertown
+gave me the year Frances was born. I never admired them. When some
+things go they carry a little piece of my heart with them, but I don't
+mind losing donation china. Are you hurt, Amy?"
+
+"A bruise and a scratch--nothing to signify. Here comes Lole with the
+arnica. I don't care in the least since I haven't wrecked any of our
+Colonial heirlooms. Isn't it fortunate, mother, that we haven't broken
+or lost anything _this_ congregation has bestowed?"
+
+"Yes, indeed," said mamma, gravely. "There, gather up the pieces, and
+get them out of the way before we have a caller."
+
+In the Manse callers may be looked for at every possible time and
+season, and some of them have eyes in the backs of their heads. For
+instance, Miss Florence Frick or Mrs. Elbridge Geary seems to be able to
+see through closed doors. And there is Mrs. Cyril Bannington Barnes, who
+thinks us all so extravagant, and does not hesitate to notice how often
+we wear our best gowns, and wonders to our faces where mamma's last
+winter's new furs came from, and is very much astonished and quite angry
+that papa should insist on sending all his boys to college. But, there,
+this story isn't going to be a talk about papa's people. Mamma wouldn't
+approve of that, I am sure.
+
+Everybody sat down comfortably in the dining-room, while Frances and
+Mildred took hold and helped Amy and Laura finish the closet. Everybody
+meant mamma, Mildred, Frances, Elbert, Lawrence, Sammy and Jessie.
+Somehow, a downright rainy day in autumn, with a bit of a blaze on the
+hearth, makes you feel like dropping into talk and staying in one place,
+and discussing eventful things, such as Grace Wainwright's return, and
+what her effect would be on her family, and what effect they would have
+on her.
+
+"I really do not think Grace is in the very least bit prepared for the
+life she is coming to," said Frances.
+
+"No," said mamma, "I fear not. But she is coming to her duty, and one
+can always do that."
+
+"For my part," said Elbert, "I see nothing so much amiss at the
+Wainwrights. They're a jolly set, and go when you will, you find them
+having good times. Of course they are in straitened circumstances."
+
+"And Grace has been accustomed to lavish expenditure," said Mildred.
+
+"If she had remained in Paris, with her Uncle Ralph and Aunt Gertrude
+she would have escaped a good deal of hardship," said Lawrence.
+
+"Oh," mamma broke in, impatiently, "how short-sighted you young people
+are! You look at everything from your own point of view. It is not of
+Grace I am thinking so much. I am considering her mother and the girls
+and her poor, worn-out father. I couldn't sleep last night, thinking of
+the Wainwrights. Mildred, you might send over a nut-cake and some soft
+custard and a glass of jelly, when it stops raining, and the last number
+of the "Christian Herald" and of "Harper's Monthly" might be slipped
+into the basket, too--that is, if you have all done with it. Papa and I
+have finished reading the serial and we will not want it again. There's
+so much to read in this house."
+
+"I'll attend to it, mamma," said Mildred. "Now what can I do to help you
+before I go to my French lesson."
+
+"Nothing, you sweetest of dears," said mother, tenderly. Mildred was her
+great favorite, and nobody was jealous, for we all adored our tall, fair
+sister.
+
+So we scattered to our different occupations and did not meet again till
+luncheon was announced.
+
+Does somebody ask which of the minister's eight children is telling this
+story? If you must know, I am Frances, and what I did not myself see was
+all told to me at the time it happened and put down in my journal.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+AT WISHING-BRAE.
+
+
+Grace Wainwright, a slender girl, in a trim tailor-made gown, stepped
+off the train at Highland Station. She was pretty and distinguished
+looking. Nobody would have passed her without observing that. Her four
+trunks and a hat-box had been swung down to the platform by the
+baggage-master, and the few passengers who, so late in the fall, stopped
+at this little out-of-the-way station in the hills had all tramped
+homeward through the rain, or been picked up by waiting conveyances.
+There was no one to meet Grace, and it made her feel homesick and
+lonely. As she stood alone on the rough unpainted boardwalk in front of
+the passenger-room a sense of desolation crept into the very marrow of
+her bones. She couldn't understand it, this indifference on the part of
+her family. The ticket agent came out and was about to lock the door. He
+was going home to his mid-day dinner.
+
+"I am Grace Wainwright," she said, appealing to him. "Do you not suppose
+some one is coming to meet me?"
+
+"Oh, you be Dr. Wainwright's darter that's been to foreign parts, be
+you? Waal, miss, the doctor he can't come because he's been sent for to
+set Mr. Stone's brother's child's arm that he broke jumping over a
+fence, running away from a snake. But I guess somebody'll be along soon.
+Like enough your folks depended on Mr. Burden; he drives a stage, and
+reckons to meet passengers, and take up trunks, but he's sort o'
+half-baked, and he's afraid to bring his old horse out when it
+rains--'fraid it'll catch the rheumatiz. You better step over to my
+house 'long o' me; somebody'll be here in the course of an hour."
+
+Grace's face flushed. It took all her pride to keep back a rush of
+angry, hurt tears. To give up Paris, and Uncle Ralph and Aunt Hattie,
+and her winter of music and art, and come to the woods and be treated in
+this way! She was amazed and indignant. But her native good sense showed
+her there was, there must be, some reason for what looked like neglect.
+Then came a tender thought of mamma. She wouldn't treat her thus.
+
+"Did a telegram from me reach Dr. Wainwright last evening?" Grace
+inquired, presently.
+
+The agent fidgeted and looked confused. Then he said coolly: "That
+explains the whole situation now. A dispatch did come, and I calc'lated
+to send it up to Wishin'-Brae by somebody passing, but nobody came along
+goin' in that direction, and I clean forgot it. Its too bad; but you
+step right over to my house and take a bite. There'll be a chance to
+get you home some time to-day."
+
+At this instant, "Is this Grace Wainwright?" exclaimed a sweet, clear
+voice, and two arms were thrown lovingly around the tired girl. "I am
+Mildred Raeburn, and this is Lawrence, my brother. We were going over to
+your house, and may we take you? I was on an errand there for mamma.
+Your people didn't know just when to look for you, dear, not hearing
+definitely, but we all supposed you would come on the five o'clock
+train. Mr. Slocum, please see that Miss Wainwright's trunks are put
+under cover till Burden's express can be sent for them." Mildred stepped
+into the carryall after Grace, giving her another loving hug.
+
+"Mildred, how dear of you to happen here at just the right moment, like
+an angel of light! You always did that. I remember when we were little
+things at school. It is ages since I was here, but nothing has changed."
+
+"Nothing ever changes in Highland, Grace. I am sorry you see it again
+for the first on this wet and dismal day. But to-morrow will be
+beautiful, I am sure."
+
+"Lawrence, you have grown out of my recollection," said Grace. "But
+we'll soon renew our acquaintance. I met your chum at Harvard, Edward
+Gerald at Geneva, and he drove with our party to Paris." Then, turning
+to Mildred, "My mother is no better, is she? Dear, patient mother! I've
+been away too long."
+
+"She is no better," replied Mildred, gently, "but then she is no worse.
+Mrs. Wainwright will be so happy when she has her middle girl by her
+side again. She's never gloomy, though. It's wonderful."
+
+They drove on silently. Mildred took keen notice of every detail of
+Grace's dress--the blue cloth gown and jacket, simple but modish, with
+an air no Highland dressmaker could achieve, for who on earth out of
+Paris can make anything so perfect as a Paris gown, in which a pretty
+girl is sure to look like a dream? The little toque on the small head
+was perched over braids of smooth brown hair, the gloves and boots were
+well-fitting, and Grace Wainwright carried herself finely. This was a
+girl who could walk ten miles on a stretch, ride a wheel or a horse at
+pleasure, drive, play tennis or golf, or do whatever else a girl of the
+period can. She was both strong and lovely, one saw that.
+
+What could she do besides? Mildred, with the reins lying loosely over
+old Whitefoot's back, thought and wondered. There was opportunity for
+much at the Brae.
+
+Lawrence and Grace chatted eagerly as the old pony climbed hills and
+descended valleys, till at last he paused at a rise in the path, then
+went on, and there, the ground dipping down like the sides of a cup, in
+the hollow at the bottom lay the straggling village.
+
+"Yes," said Grace, "I remember it all. There is the post-office, and
+Doremus' store, and the little inn, the church with the white spire, the
+school-house, and the Manse. Drive faster, please, Mildred. I want to
+see my mother. Just around that fir grove should be the old home of
+Wishing-Brae."
+
+Tears filled Grace's eyes. Her heart beat fast.
+
+The Wainwrights' house stood at the end of a long willow-bordered lane.
+As the manse carryall turned into this from the road a shout was heard
+from the house. Presently a rush of children tearing toward the
+carriage, and a chorus of "Hurrah, here is Grace!" announced the delight
+of the younger ones at meeting their sister. Mildred drew up at the
+doorstep, Lawrence helped Grace out, and a fair-haired older sister
+kissed her and led her to the mother sitting by the window in a great
+wheeled chair.
+
+The Raeburns hurried away. As they turned out of the lane they met Mr.
+Burden with his cart piled high with Grace's trunks.
+
+"Where shall my boxes be carried, sister?" said Grace, a few minutes
+later. She was sitting softly stroking her mother's thin white hand,
+the mother gazing with pride and joy into the beautiful blooming face of
+her stranger girl, who had left her a child.
+
+"My middle girl, my precious middle daughter," she said, her eyes
+filling with tears. "Miriam, Grace, and Eva, now I have you all about
+me, my three girls. I am a happy woman, Gracie."
+
+"Hallo!" came up the stairs; "Burden's waiting to be paid. He says it's
+a dollar and a quarter. Who's got the money? There never is any money in
+this house."
+
+"Hush, Robbie!" cried Miriam, looking over the railing. "The trunks will
+have to be brought right up here, of course. Set them into our room, and
+after they are unpacked we'll put them into the garret. Mother, is there
+any change in your pocketbook?"
+
+"Don't trouble mamma," said Grace, waking up to the fact that there was
+embarrassment in meeting this trifling charge. "I have money;" and she
+opened her dainty purse for the purpose--a silvery alligator thing with
+golden clasps and her monogram on it in jewels, and took out the money
+needed. Her sisters and brother had a glimpse of bills and silver in
+that well-filled purse.
+
+"Jiminy!" said Robbie to James. "Did you see the money she's got? Why,
+father never had as much as that at once."
+
+Which was very true. How should a hard-working country doctor have money
+to carry about when his bills were hard to collect, when anyway he never
+kept books, and when his family, what with feeding and clothing and
+schooling expenses, cost more every year than he could possibly earn?
+Poor Doctor Wainwright! He was growing old and bent under the load of
+care and expense he had to carry. While he couldn't collect his own
+bills, because it is unprofessional for a doctor to dun, people did not
+hesitate to dun him. All this day, as he drove from house to house, over
+the weary miles, up hill and down, there was a song in his heart. He was
+a sanguine man. A little bit of hope went a long way in encouraging this
+good doctor, and he felt sure that better days would dawn for him now
+that Grace had come home. A less hopeful temperament would have been apt
+to see rocks in the way, the girl having been so differently educated
+from the others, and accustomed to luxuries which they had never known.
+Not so her father. He saw everything in rose-color.
+
+As Doctor Wainwright toward evening turned his horse's head homeward he
+was rudely stopped on a street corner by a red-faced, red-bearded man,
+who presented him with a bill. The man grumbled out sullenly, with a
+scowl on his face:
+
+"Doctor Wainwright, I'm sorry to bother you, but this bill has been
+standing a long time. It will accommodate me very much if you can let me
+have something on account next Monday. I've got engagements to
+meet--pressing engagements, sir."
+
+"I'll do my best, Potter," said the doctor. Where he was to get any
+money by Monday he did not know, but, as Potter said, the money was due.
+He thrust the bill into his coat pocket and drove on, half his pleasure
+in again seeing his child clouded by this encounter. Pulling his gray
+mustache, the world growing dark as the sun went down, the father's
+spirits sank to zero. He had peeped at the bill. It was larger than he
+had supposed, as bills are apt to be. Two hundred dollars! And he
+couldn't borrow, and there was nothing more to mortgage. And Grace's
+coming back had led him to sanction the purchase of a new piano, to be
+paid for by instalments. The piano had been seen going home a few days
+before, and every creditor the doctor had, seeing its progress, had been
+quick to put in his claim, reasoning very naturally that if Doctor
+Wainwright could afford to buy a new piano, he could equally afford to
+settle his old debts, and must be urged to do so.
+
+The old mare quickened her pace as she saw her stable door ahead of
+her. The lines hung limp and loose in her master's hands. Under the
+pressure of distress about this dreadful two hundred dollars he had
+forgotten to be glad that Grace was again with them.
+
+Doctor Wainwright was an easy-going as well as a hopeful sort of man,
+but he was an honest person, and he knew that creditors have a right to
+be insistent. It distressed him to drag around a load of debt. For days
+together the poor doctor had driven a long way round rather than to pass
+Potter's store on the main street, the dread of some such encounter and
+the shame of his position weighing heavily on his soul. It was the
+harder for him that he had made it a rule never to appear anxious before
+his wife. Mrs. Wainwright had enough to bear in being ill and in pain.
+The doctor braced himself and threw back his shoulders as if casting off
+a load, as the mare, of her own accord, stopped at the door.
+
+The house was full of light. Merry voices overflowed in rippling speech
+and laughter. Out swarmed the children to meet papa, and one sweet girl
+kissed him over and over. "Here I am," she said, "your middle daughter,
+dearest. Here I am."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+GRACE TAKES A HAND.
+
+
+"Mother, darling, may I have a good long talk with you to-day, a
+confidential talk, we two by ourselves?"
+
+"Yes, Grace, I shall be delighted."
+
+"And when can it be? You always have so many around you, dear; and no
+wonder, this is the centre of the house, this chair, which is your
+throne."
+
+"Well, let me see," said Mrs. Wainwright, considering. "After dinner the
+children go to Sunday-school, and papa has always a few Sunday patients
+whom he must visit. Between two and four I am always alone on Sunday and
+we can have a chat then. Mildred and Frances will probably walk home
+with Miriam and want to carry you off to the Manse to tea."
+
+"Not on my first home Sunday, mamma," said Grace. "I must have every
+littlest bit of that here, though I do expect to have good times with
+the Manse girls. Is Mrs. Raeburn as sweet as ever? I remember her
+standing at the station and waving me good-bye when I went away with
+auntie, and Amy, the dearest wee fairy, was by her side."
+
+"Amy is full of plans," said Mrs. Wainwright. "She is going to the
+League to study art if her mother can spare her. Mildred and Frances
+want to go on with their French, and one of the little boys, I forget
+which, has musical talent; but there is no one in Highland who can teach
+the piano. The Raeburn children are all clever and bright."
+
+"They could hardly help being that, mamma, with such a father and
+mother, and the atmosphere of such a home."
+
+All this time there was the hurry and bustle of Sunday morning in a
+large family where every one goes to church, and the time between
+breakfast and half-past ten is a scramble. Grace kept quietly on with
+the work she had that morning assumed, straightening the quilts on the
+invalid's chair, bringing her a new book, and setting a little vase with
+a few late flowers on the table by her side. Out of Grace's trunks there
+had been produced gifts for the whole household, and many pretty things,
+pictures and curios, which lent attractiveness to the parlor, grown
+shabby and faded with use and poverty, but still a pretty and homelike
+parlor, as a room which is lived in by well-bred people must always be.
+
+"Well, when the rest have gone to Sunday-school, and papa has started on
+his afternoon rounds, I'll come here and take my seat, where I used to
+when I was a wee tot, and we'll have an old-fashioned confab. Now, if
+the girls have finished dressing, I'll run and get ready for church. I'm
+so glad all through that I can again hear one of Dr. Raeburn's helpful
+sermons."
+
+Mrs. Wainwright smiled.
+
+"To hear Frances' and Amy's chatter, one would not think that so great a
+privilege, Grace."
+
+"Oh, that amounts to nothing, mamma! Let somebody else criticise their
+father and you'd hear another story. Ministers' families are apt to be a
+little less appreciative than outsiders, they are so used to the
+minister in all his moods. But Dr. Raeburn's "Every Morning" has been my
+companion book to the Bible ever since I was old enough to like and need
+such books, and though I was so small when I went that I remember only
+the music of his voice, I want to hear him preach again."
+
+"Grace," came a call from the floor above, "you can have your turn at
+the basin and the looking-glass if you'll come this minute. Hurry, dear,
+I'm keeping Eva off by strategy. You have your hair to do and I want you
+to hook my collar. You must have finished in mother's room, and it's my
+belief you two are just chattering. Hurry, please, dear!"
+
+"Yes, Miriam, I'm coming. But let Eva go on. It takes only a second for
+me to slip into my jacket. I never dress for church," she explained to
+her mother. "This little black gown is what I always wear on Sundays."
+
+"I wish you could have a room of your own, daughter. It's hard after
+you've had independence so long to be sandwiched in between Miriam and
+Eva. But we could not manage another room just now." The mother looked
+wistful.
+
+"I'm doing very well, mamma. Never give it a thought. Why, it's fun
+being with my sisters as I always used to be. Miriam is the one entitled
+to a separate room, if anybody could have it."
+
+Yet she stifled a sigh as she ran up to the large, ill-appointed chamber
+which the three sisters used in common.
+
+When you have had your own separate, individual room for years, with
+every dainty belonging that is possible for a luxurious taste to
+provide, it is a bit of a trial to give it up and be satisfied with a
+cot at one end of a long, barnlike place, with no chance for solitude,
+and only one mirror and one pitcher and basin to serve the needs of
+three persons. It can be borne, however, as every small trial in this
+world may, if there is a cheerful spirit and a strong, loving heart to
+fall back on. Besides, most things may be improved if you know how to go
+about the task. The chief thing is first to accept the situation, and
+then bravely to undertake the changing it for the better.
+
+"Doctor," said the mother, as her husband brushed his thin gray hair in
+front of his chiffonier, while the merry sound of their children's
+voices came floating down to them through open doors, "thank the dear
+Lord for me in my stead when you sit in the pew to-day. I'll be with you
+in my thoughts. It's such a blessed thing that our little middle girl is
+at home with us."
+
+The doctor sighed. That bill in his pocket was burning like fire in his
+soul. He was not a cent nearer meeting it than he had been on Friday,
+and to-morrow was but twenty-four hours off. Yesterday he had tried to
+borrow from a cousin, but in vain.
+
+"I fail to see a blessing anywhere, Charlotte," he said. "Things
+couldn't well be worse. This is a dark bit of the road." He checked
+himself. Why had he saddened her? It was not his custom.
+
+"When things are at the very worst, Jack, I've always noticed that they
+take a turn for the better. 'It may not be my way; it may not be thy
+way; but yet in His own way the Lord will provide.'" Mrs. Wainwright
+spoke steadily and cheerfully. Her thin cheeks flushed with feeling. Her
+tones were strong. Her smile was like a sunbeam. Doctor Wainwright's
+courage rose.
+
+"Anyway, darling wife, you are the best blessing a man ever had." He
+stooped and kissed her like a lover.
+
+Presently the whole family, Grace walking proudly at her father's side,
+took their way across the fields to church.
+
+Perhaps you may have seen lovely Sunday mornings, but I don't think
+there is a place in the whole world where Sunday sunshine is as clear,
+Sunday stillness as full of rest, Sunday flowers as fragrant, as in our
+hamlet among the hills, our own dear Highland. Far and near the roads
+wind past farms and fields, with simple, happy homes nestling under the
+shadow of the mountains. You hear the church bells, and their sound is
+soft and clear as they break the golden silence. Groups of people,
+rosy-cheeked children, and sturdy boys and pleasant looking men and
+women pass you walking to church, exchanging greetings. Carriage loads
+of old and young drive on, all going the same way. It makes me think of
+a verse in the Psalm which my old Scottish mother loved:
+
+    "I joyed when to the house of God
+      'Go up,' they said to me,
+    'Jerusalem, within thy gates
+      Our feet shall standing be.'"
+
+"Oh, Paradise! oh, Paradise!" hummed Amy Raeburn that same Sunday
+morning as, the last to leave the Manse, she ran after her mother and
+sisters. The storm of the two previous days had newly brightened the
+landscape. Every twig and branch shone, and the red and yellow maple
+leaves, the wine-color of the oak, the burnished copper of the beech,
+were like jewels in the sun.
+
+"If it were not Sunday I would dance," said Amy, subduing her steps to a
+sober walk as she saw approaching the majestic figure of Mrs. Cyril
+Bannington Barnes.
+
+"You are late, Amy Raeburn," said this lady. "Your father went to church
+a half-hour ago, and the bell is tolling. Young people should cultivate
+a habit of being punctual. This being a few minutes behind time is very
+reprehensible--very rep-re-hen-sible indeed, my love."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," replied Amy, meekly, walking slowly beside the also tardy
+Mrs. Barnes.
+
+"I dare say," continued Mrs. Barnes, "that you are thinking to yourself
+that I also am late. But, Amy, I have no duty to the parish. I am an
+independent woman. You are a girl, and the minister's daughter at that.
+You are in a very different position. I do hope, Amy Raeburn, that you
+will not be late another Sunday morning. Your mother is not so good a
+disciplinarian as I could wish."
+
+"No, Mrs. Barnes?" said Amy, with a gentle questioning manner, which
+would have irritated the matron still more had their progress not now
+ceased on the church steps. Amy, both resentful and amused, fluttered,
+like an alarmed chick to the brooding mother-wing, straight to the
+minister's pew. Mrs. Barnes, smoothing ruffled plumes, proceeded with
+stately and impressive tread to her place in front of the pulpit.
+
+Doctor Raeburn was rising to pronounce the invocation. The church was
+full. Amy glanced over to the Wainwright pew, and saw Grace, and smiled.
+Into Amy's mind stole a text she was fond of, quite as if an angel had
+spoken it, and she forgot that she had been ruffled the wrong way by
+Mrs. Cyril Bannington Barnes. This was the text:
+
+"Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good."
+
+"You are a hateful, wicked girl, Amy," said Amy to herself. "Why, when
+you have so much to make you happy, are you so easily upset by a fretful
+old lady, who is, after all, your friend, and would stand by you if
+there were need?"
+
+Amy did not know it, but it was Grace's sweet and tranquil look that had
+brought the text to her mind. One of the dearest things in life is that
+we may do good and not know that we are doing it.
+
+When the Sunday hush fell on the house of which Mrs. Wainwright had
+spoken Grace came softly tapping at the door.
+
+"Yes, dear," called her mother; "come right in."
+
+"Mamma," said Grace, after a few minutes, "will you tell me plainly, if
+you don't mind, what is worrying papa? I don't mean generally, but what
+special trouble is on his mind to-day?"
+
+"Potter's bill, I have no doubt," said the mother, quietly. "Other
+troubles come and go, but there is always Potter's bill in the
+background. And every little while it crops up and gets into the front."
+
+"What is Potter's bill, dear mamma, and how do we come to owe it?"
+
+"I can't fully explain to you, my child, how it comes to be so large.
+When Mr. Potter's father was living and carrying on the business, he
+used to say to your father: 'Just get all you want here, doctor; never
+give yourself a thought; pay when you can and what you can. We come to
+you for medical advice and remedies, and we'll strike a balance
+somehow.' The Potters have during years had very little occasion for a
+doctor's services, and we, with this great family, have had to have
+groceries, shoes, and every other thing, and Potter's bill has kept
+rolling up like a great snowball, bit by bit. We pay something now and
+then. I sold my old sideboard that came to me from my grandparents, and
+paid a hundred dollars on it six months ago. Old Mr. Potter died. Rufus
+reigns in his stead, as the Bible says, and he wants to collect his
+money. I do not blame him, Grace, but he torments poor papa. There are
+two hundred dollars due now, and papa has been trying to get money due
+him, and to pay Rufus fifty dollars, but he's afraid he can't raise the
+money."
+
+Grace reflected. Then she asked a question. "Dear mamma, don't think me
+prying, but is Potter's the only pressing obligation on papa just now?"
+
+Mrs. Wainwright hesitated. Then she answered, a little slowly, "No,
+Grace, there are other accounts; but Potter's is the largest."
+
+"I ask, because I can help my father," said Grace, modestly. "Uncle
+Ralph deposited five hundred dollars to my credit in a New York bank on
+my birthday. The money is mine, to do with absolutely as I please. I
+have nearly fifty dollars in my trunk. Uncle and auntie have always
+given me money lavishly. Papa can settle Potter's account to-morrow. I'm
+only too thankful I have the money. To think that money can do so much
+toward making people happy or making them miserable! Then, mother dear,
+we'll go into papa's accounts and see how near I can come to relieving
+the present state of affairs; and if papa will consent, we'll collect
+his bills, and then later, I've another scheme--that is a fine,
+sweet-toned piano in the parlor. I mean to give lessons."
+
+"Grace, it was an extravagance in our circumstances to get that piano,
+but the girls were so tired of the old one; it was worn out, a tin pan,
+and this is to be paid for on easy terms, so much a month."
+
+Grace hated to have her mother to apologize in this way. She hastened to
+say, "I'm glad it's here, and don't think me conceited, but I've had the
+best instruction uncle could secure for me here, and a short course in
+Berlin, and now I mean to make it of some use. I believe I can get
+pupils."
+
+"Not many in Highland, I fear, Grace."
+
+"If not in Highland, in New York. Leave that to me."
+
+Mrs. Wainwright felt as if she had been taking a tonic. To the lady
+living her days out in her own chamber, and unaccustomed to excitement,
+there was something very surprising and very stimulating too in the
+swift way of settling things and the fearlessness of this young girl.
+Though she had yielded very reluctantly to her brother's wish to keep
+Grace apart from her family and wholly his own for so many years, she
+now saw there was good in it. Her little girl had developed into a
+resolute, capable and strong sort of young woman, who could make use of
+whatever tools her education had put into her hands.
+
+"This hasn't been quite the right kind of Sunday talk, mother," said
+Grace, "but I haven't been here three days without seeing there's a
+cloud, and I don't like to give up to clouds. I'm like the old woman who
+must take her broom and sweep the cobwebs out of the sky."
+
+"God helping you, my dear, you will succeed. You have swept some cobwebs
+out of my sky already."
+
+"God helping me, yes, dear. Thank you for saying that. Now don't you
+want me to sing to you? I'll darken your room and set the door ajar, and
+then I'll go to the parlor and play soft, rippling, silvery things, and
+sing to you, and you will fall asleep while I'm singing, and have a
+lovely nap before they all come home."
+
+As Grace went down the stairs, she paused a moment at the door of the
+big dining-room, "large as a town hall," her father sometimes said.
+Everything at Wishing-Brae was of ample size--great rooms, lofty
+ceilings, big fire-places, broad windows.
+
+"I missed the sideboard, the splendid old mahogany piece with its deep
+winy lustre, and the curious carved work. Mother must have grieved to
+part with it. Surely uncle and aunt couldn't have known of these
+straits. Well, I'm at home now, and they need somebody to manage for
+them. Uncle always said I had a business head. God helping me, I'll pull
+my people out of the slough of despond."
+
+The young girl went into the parlor, where the amber light from the
+west was beginning to fall upon the old Wainwright portraits, the
+candelabra with their prisms pendent, and the faded cushions and rugs.
+Playing softly, as she had said, singing sweetly "Abide with me" and
+"Sun of my soul," the mother was soothed into a peaceful little
+half-hour of sleep, in which she dreamed that God had sent her an angel
+guest, whose name was Grace.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+TWO LITTLE SCHOOLMARMS.
+
+
+"And so you are your papa's good fairy? How happy you must be! How
+proud!" Amy's eyes shone as she talked to Grace, and smoothed down a
+fold of the pretty white alpaca gown which set off her friend's dainty
+beauty. The girls were in my mother's room at the Manse, and Mrs.
+Raeburn had left them together to talk over plans, while she went to the
+parlor to entertain a visitor who was engaged in getting up an autumn
+_fête_ for a charitable purpose. Nothing of this kind was ever done
+without mother's aid.
+
+There were few secrets between Wishing-Brae and the Manse, and Mrs.
+Wainwright had told our mother how opportunely Grace had been able to
+assist her father in his straits. Great was our joy.
+
+"You must remember, dear," said mamma, when she returned from seeing
+Miss Gardner off, "that your purse is not exhaustless, though it is a
+long one for a girl. Debts have a way of eating up bank accounts; and
+what will you do when your money is gone if you still find that the wolf
+menaces the door at Wishing-Brae?"
+
+"That is what I want to consult you about, Aunt Dorothy." (I ought to
+have said that our mother was Aunt Dorothy to the children at the Brae,
+and more beloved than many a real auntie, though one only by courtesy.)
+"Frances knows my ambitions," Grace went on. "I mean to be a money-maker
+as well as a money-spender; and I have two strings to my bow. First, I'd
+like to give interpretations."
+
+The mother looked puzzled. "Interpretations?" she said. "Of what,
+pray?--Sanscrit or Egyptian or Greek? Are you a seeress or a witch, dear
+child?"
+
+"Neither. In plain English I want to read stories and poems to my
+friends and to audiences--Miss Wilkins' and Mrs. Stuart's beautiful
+stories, and the poems of Holmes and Longfellow and others who speak to
+the heart. Not mere elocutionary reading, but simple reading, bringing
+out the author's meaning and giving people pleasure. I would charge an
+admission fee, and our dining-room would hold a good many; but I ought
+to have read somewhere else first, and to have a little background of
+city fame before I ask Highland neighbors to come and hear me. This is
+my initial plan. I could branch out."
+
+To the mother the new idea did not at once commend itself. She knew
+better than we girls did how many twenty-five-cent tickets must be sold
+to make a good round sum in dollars. She knew the thrifty people of
+Highland looked long at a quarter before they parted with it for mere
+amusement, and still further, she doubted whether Dr. Wainwright would
+like the thing. But Amy clapped her hands gleefully. She thought it
+fine.
+
+"You must give a studio reading," she said. "I can manage that, mother;
+if Miss Antoinette Drury will lend her studio, and we send out
+invitations for 'Music and Reading, and Tea at Five,' the prestige part
+will be taken care of. The only difficulty that I can see is that Grace
+would have to go to a lot of places and travel about uncomfortably; and
+then she'd need a manager. Wouldn't she, Frances?"
+
+"I see no trouble," said I, "in her being her own manager. She would go
+to a new town with a letter to the pastor of the leading church, or his
+wife, call in at the newspaper office and get a puff; puffs are always
+easily secured by enterprising young women, and they help to fill up the
+paper besides. Then she would hire a hall and pay for it out of her
+profits, and the business could be easily carried forward."
+
+"Is this the New Woman breaking her shell?" said mother. "I don't think
+I quite like the interpretation scheme either as Amy or as you outline
+it, though I am open to persuasion. Here is the doctor. Let us hear what
+he says."
+
+It was not Dr. Wainwright, but my father, Dr. Raeburn, except on a
+Friday, the most genial of men. Amy perched herself on his knee and ran
+her slim fingers through his thick dark hair. To him our plans were
+explained, and he at once gave them his approval.
+
+"As I understand you, Gracie," Dr. Raeburn said, "you wish this reading
+business as a stepping-stone. You would form classes, would you not? And
+your music could also be utilized. You had good instruction, I fancy,
+both here and over the water."
+
+"Indeed, yes, Dr. Raeburn; and I could give lessons in music, but they
+wouldn't bring me in much, here at least."
+
+"Come to my study," said the doctor, rising. "Amy, you have ruffled up
+my hair till I look like a cherub before the flood. Come, all of you,
+Dorothy and the kids."
+
+"You don't call us kids, do you, papa?"
+
+"Young ladies, then, at your service," said the doctor, with a low bow.
+"I've a letter from my old friend, Vernon Hastings. I'll read it to you
+when I can find it," said the good man, rummaging among the books,
+papers, and correspondence with which his great table was littered.
+"Judge Hastings," the doctor went on, "lost his wife in Venice a year
+ago. He has three little girls in need, of special advantages; he cannot
+bear to send them away to school, and his mother, who lives with him and
+orders the house, won't listen to having a resident governess. Ah, this
+is the letter!" The doctor read:
+
+     "I wish you could help me, Charley, in the dilemma in which I find
+     myself. Lucy and Helen and my little Madge are to be educated, and
+     the question is how, when, and where? They are delicate, and I
+     cannot yet make up my mind to the desolate house I would have
+     should they go to school. Grandmamma has pronounced against a
+     governess, and I don't like the day-schools of the town. Now is not
+     one of your daughters musical, and perhaps another sufficiently
+     mistress of the elementary branches to teach these babies? I will
+     pay liberally the right person or persons for three hours' work a
+     day. But I must have well-bred girls, ladies, to be with my trio of
+     bairns."
+
+"I couldn't teach arithmetic or drawing," said Grace. "I would be glad
+to try my hand at music, and geography and German and French. I might
+be weak on spelling."
+
+"I don't think that of you, Grace," said mother.
+
+"I am ashamed to say it's true," said Grace.
+
+Amy interrupted. "How far away is Judge Hastings' home, papa?"
+
+"An hour's ride, Amy dear. No, forty minutes' ride by rail. I'll go and
+see him. I've no doubt he will pay you generously, Grace, for your
+services, if you feel that you can take up this work seriously."
+
+"I do; I will," said Grace, "and only too thankful will I be to
+undertake it; but what about the multiplication table, and the straight
+and the curved lines, and Webster's speller?"
+
+"Papa," said Amy, gravely, "please mention me to the judge. I will teach
+those midgets the arithmetic and drawing and other fundamental studies
+which my gifted friend fears to touch."
+
+"You?" said papa, in surprise.
+
+"Why not, dear?" interposed mamma. "Amy's youth is against her, but the
+fact is she can count and she can draw, and I am not afraid to recommend
+her, though she is only a chit of fifteen, as to her spelling."
+
+"Going on sixteen, mamma, if you please, and nearly there," Amy
+remarked, drawing herself up to her fullest height, at which we all
+laughed merrily.
+
+"I taught school myself at sixteen," our mother went on, "and though it
+made me feel like twenty-six, I had no trouble with thirty boys and
+girls of all ages from four to eighteen. You must remember me, my love,
+in the old district school at Elmwood."
+
+"Yes," said papa, "and your overpowering dignity was a sight for gods
+and men. All the same you were a darling."
+
+"So she is still." And we pounced upon her in a body and devoured her
+with kisses, the sweet little mother.
+
+"Papa," Amy proceeded, when order had been restored, "why not take us
+when you go to interview the judge? Then he can behold his future
+schoolma'ams, arrange terms, and settle the thing at once. I presume
+Grace is anxious as I am to begin her career, now that it looms up
+before her. I am in the mood of the youth who bore through snow and ice
+the banner with the strange device, 'Excelsior.'"
+
+"In the mean time, good people," said Frances, appearing in the doorway,
+"luncheon is served."
+
+We had a pretty new dish--new to us--for luncheon, and as everybody may
+not know how nice it is, I'll just mention it in passing.
+
+Take large ripe tomatoes, scoop out the pulp and mix it with finely
+minced canned salmon, adding a tiny pinch of salt. Fill the tomatoes
+with this mixture, set them in a nest of crisp green lettuce leaves, and
+pour a mayonnaise into each ruby cup. The dish is extremely dainty and
+inviting, and tastes as good as it looks. It must be very cold.
+
+"But," Doctor Raeburn said, in reply to a remark of mother's that she
+was pleased the girls had decided on teaching, it was so womanly and
+proper an employment for girls of good family, "I must insist that the
+'interpretations' be not entirely dropped. I'll introduce you, my dear,"
+he said, "when you give your first recital, and that will make it all
+right in the eyes of Highland."
+
+"Thank you, doctor," said Grace. "I would rather have your sanction than
+anything else in the world, except papa's approval."
+
+"Why don't your King's Daughters give Grace a boom? You are always
+getting up private theatricals, and this is just the right time."
+
+"Lawrence Raeburn you are a trump!" said Amy, flying round to her
+brother and giving him a hug. "We'll propose it at the first meeting of
+the Ten, and it'll be carried by acclamation."
+
+"Now," said Grace, rising and saying good-afternoon to my mother, with a
+courtesy to the rest of us, "I'm going straight home to break ground
+there and prepare my mother for great events."
+
+Walking over the fields in great haste, for when one has news to
+communicate, one's feet are wings, Grace was arrested by a groan as of
+somebody in great pain. She looked about cautiously, but it was several
+minutes before she found, lying under the hedge, a boy with a broken
+pitcher at his side. He was deadly pale, and great drops of sweat rolled
+down his face.
+
+"Oh, you poor boy! What is the matter?" she cried, bending over him in
+great concern.
+
+"I've broke mother's best china pitcher," said the lad, in a despairing
+voice.
+
+"Poof!" replied Grace. "Pitchers can be mended or replaced. What else is
+wrong? You're not groaning over a broken pitcher, surely!"
+
+"You would, if it came over in the _Mayflower_, and was all of your
+ancestors' you had left to show that you could be a Colonial Dame.
+Ug-gh!" The boy tried to sit up, gasped and fell back in a dead faint.
+
+"Goodness!" said Grace; "he's broken his leg as well as his pitcher.
+Colonial Dames! What nonsense! Well, I can't leave him here."
+
+She had her smelling salts in her satchel, but before she could find
+them, Grace's satchel being an _omnium gatherum_ of a remarkably
+miscellaneous character, the lad came to. A fainting person will usually
+regain consciousness soon if laid out flat, with the head a little lower
+than the body. I've seen people persist in keeping a fainting friend in
+a sitting position, which is very stupid and quite cruel.
+
+"I am Doctor Wainwright's daughter," said Grace, "and I see my father's
+gig turning the corner of the road. You shall have help directly. Papa
+will know what to do, so lie still where you are."
+
+The lad obeyed, there plainly being nothing else to be done. In a second
+Doctor Wainwright, at Grace's flag of distress, a white handkerchief
+waving from the top of her parasol, came toward her at the mare's
+fastest pace.
+
+"Hello!" he said. "Here's Archie Vanderhoven in a pickle."
+
+"As usual, doctor," said Archie, faintly. "I've broken mother's last
+pitcher."
+
+"And your leg, I see," observed the doctor, with professional
+directness. "Well, my boy, you must be taken home. Grace, drive home for
+me, and tell the boys to bring a cot here as soon as possible. Meanwhile
+I'll set Archie's leg. It's only a simple fracture." And the doctor from
+his black bag, brought out bandages and instruments. No army surgeon on
+the field of battle was quicker and gentler than Doctor Wainwright,
+whose skill was renowned all over our country-side.
+
+"What is there about the Vanderhovens?" inquired Grace that night as
+they sat by the blaze of hickory logs in the cheery parlor of
+Wishing-Brae.
+
+"The Vanderhovens are a decayed family," her father answered. "They were
+once very well off and lived in state, and from far and near gay parties
+were drawn at Easter and Christmas to dance under their roof. Now they
+are run out. This boy and his mother are the last of the line. Archie's
+father was drowned in the ford when we had the freshet last spring. The
+Ramapo, that looks so peaceful now, overflowed its banks then, and ran
+like a mill-race. I don't know how they manage, but Archie is kept at
+school, and his mother does everything from ironing white frocks for
+summer boarders to making jellies and preserves for people in town, who
+send her orders."
+
+"Is she an educated woman?" inquired Grace.
+
+"That she is. Mrs. Vanderhoven is not only highly educated, but very
+elegant and accomplished. None of her attainments, except those in the
+domestic line, are available, unhappily, when earning a living is in
+question, and she can win her bread only by these housekeeping efforts."
+
+"Might I go and see her?"
+
+"Why yes, dear, you and the others not only might, but should. She will
+need help. I'll call and consult Mrs. Raeburn about her to-morrow. She
+isn't a woman one can treat like a pauper--as well born as any one in
+the land, and prouder than Lucifer. It's too bad Archie had to meet with
+this accident; but boys are fragile creatures."
+
+And the doctor, shaking the ashes from his pipe, went off to sit with
+his wife before going to bed.
+
+"I do wonder," said Grace to Eva, "what the boy was doing with the old
+Puritan pitcher, and why a Vanderhoven should have boasted of coming
+over in the _Mayflower_?"
+
+Eva said: "They're Dutch and English, Grace. The Vanderhovens are from
+Holland, but Archie's mother was a Standish, or something of that sort,
+and her kinsfolk, of course, belonged to the _Mayflower_ crowd. I
+believe Archie meant to sell that pitcher, and if so, no wonder he broke
+his leg. By-the-way, what became of the pieces?"
+
+"I picked them up," said Grace.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+CEMENTS AND RIVETS.
+
+
+"How did we ever consent to let our middle daughter stay away all these
+years, mother?" said Dr. Wainwright, addressing his wife.
+
+"I cannot tell how it happened, father," she said, musingly. "I think we
+drifted into the arrangement, and you know each year brother was
+expected to bring her back Harriet would plan a jaunt or a journey which
+kept her away, and then, Jack, we've generally been rather out at the
+elbows, and I have been so helpless, that, with our large family, it was
+for Grace's good to let her remain where she was so well provided for."
+
+"She's clear grit, isn't she?" said the doctor, admiringly, stalking to
+and fro in his wife's chamber. "I didn't half like the notion of her
+giving readings; but Charley Raeburn says the world moves and we must
+move with it, and now that her object is not purely a selfish one, I
+withdraw my opposition. I confess, though, darling, I don't enjoy the
+thought that my girls must earn money. I feel differently about the
+boys."
+
+"Jack, dear," said his wife, tenderly, always careful not to wound the
+feelings of this unsuccessful man who was still so loving and so full of
+chivalry, "you needn't mind that in the very least. The girl who doesn't
+want to earn money for herself in these days is in the minority. Girls
+feel it in the air. They all fret and worry, or most of them do, until
+they are allowed to measure their strength and test the commercial worth
+of what they have acquired. You are a dear old fossil, Jack. Just look
+at it in this way: Suppose Mrs. Vanderhoven, brought up in the purple,
+taught to play a little, to embroider a little, to speak a little
+French--to do a little of many things and nothing well--had been given
+the sort of education that in her day was the right of every gentleman's
+son, though denied the gentleman's daughter, would her life be so hard
+and narrow and distressful now? Would she be reduced to taking in fine
+washing and hemstitching, and canning fruit?"
+
+"Canning fruit, mother dear," said Miriam, who had just come in to
+procure fresh towels for the bedrooms, "is a fine occupation. Several
+women in the United States are making their fortunes at that. Eva and I,
+who haven't Grace's talents, are thinking of taking it up in earnest. I
+can make preserves, I rejoice to say."
+
+"When you are ready to begin, you shall have my blessing," said her
+father. "I yield to the new order of things." Then as the pretty elder
+daughter disappeared, a sheaf of white lavender-perfumed towels over her
+arm, he said: "Now, dear, I perceive your point. Archie Vanderhoven's
+accident has, however, occurred in the very best possible time for
+Grace. The King's Daughters--you know what a breezy Ten they are, with
+our Eva and the Raeburns' Amy among them--are going to give a lift to
+Archie, not to his mother, who might take offence. All the local talent
+of our young people is already enlisted. Our big dining-room is to be
+the hall of ceremonies, and I believe they are to have tableaux, music,
+readings and refreshments. This will come off on the first moonlight
+night, and the proceeds will all go to Archie, to be kept, probably, as
+a nest-egg for his college expenses. That mother of his means him to go
+through college, you know, if she has to pay the fees by hard work,
+washing, ironing, scrubbing, what not."
+
+"I hope the boy's worth it," said Mrs. Wainwright, doubtfully. "Few boys
+are."
+
+"The right boy is," said the doctor, firmly. "In our medical association
+there's one fellow who is on the way to be a famous surgeon. He's fine,
+Jane, the most plucky, persistent man, with the eye, and the nerve, and
+the hand, and the delicacy and steadiness of the surgeon born in him,
+and confirmed by training. Some of his operations are perfectly
+beautiful, beautiful! He'll be famous over the whole world yet. His
+mother was an Irish charwoman, and she and he had a terrible tug to
+carry him through his studies."
+
+"Is he good to her? Is he grateful?" asked Mrs. Wainwright, much
+impressed.
+
+"Good! grateful! I should say so," said the doctor. "She lives like
+Queen Victoria, rides in her carriage, dresses in black silk, has four
+maids to wait on her. She lives like the first lady in the land, in her
+son's house, and he treats her like a lover. He's a man. He was worth
+all she did. They say," added the doctor, presently, "that sometimes the
+old lady tires of her splendor, sends the maids away to visit their
+cousins, and turns in and works for a day or two like all possessed.
+She's been seen hanging out blankets on a windy day in the back yard,
+with a face as happy as that of a child playing truant."
+
+"Poor, dear old thing," said Mrs. Wainwright. "Well, to go back to our
+girlie, she's to be allowed to take her own way, isn't she, and to be as
+energetic and work as steadily as she likes?"
+
+"Yes, dearest, she shall, for all I'll do or say to the contrary. And
+when my ship comes in I'll pay her back with interest for the loans
+she's made me lately."
+
+The doctor went off to visit his patients. His step had grown light,
+his face had lost its look of alert yet furtive dread. He looked twenty
+years younger. And no wonder. He no longer had to dodge Potter at every
+turn, and a big package of receipted bills, endorsed and dated, lay
+snugly in his desk, the fear of duns exorcised thereby. A man whose path
+has been impeded by the thick underbrush of debts he cannot settle, and
+who finds his obligations cancelled, may well walk gaily along the
+cleared and brightened roadway, hearing birds sing and seeing blue sky
+beaming above his head.
+
+The Ten took hold of the first reading with enthusiasm. Flags were
+borrowed, and blazing boughs of maple and oak, with festoons of crimson
+blackberry vine and armfuls of golden rod transformed the long room into
+a bower. Seats were begged and borrowed, and all the cooks in town made
+cake with fury and pride for the great affair. The tickets were sold
+without much trouble, and the girls had no end of fun in rehearsing the
+tableaux which were decided on as preferable in an entertainment given
+by the King's Daughters, because in tableaux everybody has something to
+do. Grace was to read from "Young Lucretia" and a poem by Hetta Lord
+Hayes Ward, a lovely poem about a certain St. Bridget who trudges up to
+heaven's gate, after her toiling years, and finds St. Peter waiting to
+set it wide open. The poor, modest thing was an example of Keble's
+lovely stanza:
+
+    "Meek souls there are who little dream
+    Their daily life an angel's theme,
+    Nor that the rod they bear so calm
+    In heaven may prove a martyr's palm."
+
+Very much astonished at her reception, she is escorted up to the serene
+heights by tall seraphs, who treat her with the greatest reverence. By
+and by along comes a grand lady, one of Bridget's former employers. She
+just squeezes through the gate, and then,
+
+    "Down heaven's hill a radiant saint
+    Comes flying with a palm,
+    'Are you here, Bridget O'Flaherty?'
+    St. Bridget cries, 'Yes ma'am.'
+
+    "'Oh, teach me, Bridget, the manners, please,
+    Of the royal court above.'
+    'Sure, honey dear, you'll aisy learn
+    Humility and love.'"
+
+I haven't time to tell you all about the entertainment, and there is no
+need. You, of course, belong to Tens or to needlework guilds or to
+orders of some kind, and if you are a member of the Order of the Round
+Table why, of course, you are doing good in some way or other, and good
+which enables one to combine social enjoyment and a grand frolic; and
+the making of a purseful of gold and silver for a crippled boy, or an
+aged widow, or a Sunday-school in Dakota, or a Good Will Farm in Maine,
+is a splendid kind of good.
+
+This chapter is about cements and rivets. It is also about the two
+little schoolmarms.
+
+"Let us take Mrs. Vanderhoven's pitcher to town when we go to call on
+the judge with father," said Amy. "Perhaps it can be mended."
+
+"It may be mended, but I do not think it will hold water again."
+
+"There is a place," said Amy, "where a patient old German frau, with the
+tiniest little bits of rivets that you can hardly see, and the stickiest
+cement you ever did see, repairs broken china. Archie was going to sell
+the pitcher. His mother had said he might. A lady at the hotel had
+promised him five dollars for it as a specimen of some old pottery or
+other. Then he leaped that hedge, caught his foot, fell, and that was
+the end of that five dollars, which was to have gone for a new lexicon
+and I don't know what else."
+
+"It was a fortunate break for Archie. His leg will be as strong as ever,
+and we'll make fifty dollars by our show. I call such a disaster an
+angel in disguise."
+
+"Mrs. Vanderhoven cried over the pitcher, though. She said it had almost
+broken her heart to let Archie take it out of the house, and she felt it
+was a judgment on her for being willing to part with it."
+
+"Every one has some superstition, I think," said Amy.
+
+Judge Hastings, a tall, soldierly gentleman, with the bearing of a
+courtier, was delighted with the girls, and brought his three little
+women in their black frocks to see their new teachers.
+
+"I warn you, young ladies," he said, "these are spoiled babies. But they
+will do anything for those they love, and they will surely love you. I
+wish them to be thoroughly taught, especially music and calisthenics.
+Can you teach them the latter?"
+
+He fixed his keen, blue eyes on Grace, who colored under the glance, but
+answered bravely:
+
+"Yes, Judge, I can teach them physical culture and music, too, but I
+won't undertake teaching them to count or to spell."
+
+"I'll take charge of that part," said Amy, fearlessly.
+
+Grace's salary was fixed at one thousand dollars, Amy's at five hundred,
+a year, and Grace was to come to her pupils three hours a day for five
+days every week, Amy one hour a day for five days.
+
+"We'll travel together," said Amy, "for I'll be at the League while you
+are pegging away at the teaching of these tots after my hour is over."
+
+If any girl fancies that Grace and Amy had made an easy bargain I
+recommend her to try the same tasks day in and day out for the weeks of
+a winter. She will discover that she earns her salary. Lucy, Helen and
+Madge taxed their young teachers' utmost powers, but they did them
+credit, and each month, as Grace was able to add comforts to her home,
+to lighten her father's burdens, to remove anxiety from her mother, she
+felt that she would willingly have worked harder.
+
+The little pitcher was repaired so that you never would have known it
+had been broken. Mrs. Vanderhoven set it in the place of honor on top of
+her mantel shelf, and Archie, now able to hobble about, declared that he
+would treasure it for his children's children.
+
+One morning a letter came for Grace. It was from the principal of a
+girls' school in a lovely village up the Hudson, a school attended by
+the daughters of statesmen and millionaires, but one, too, which had
+scholarships for bright girls who desired culture, but whose parents had
+very little money. To attend Miss L----'s school some girls would have
+given more than they could put into words; it was a certificate of good
+standing in society to have been graduated there, while mothers prized
+and girls envied those who were students at Miss L----'s for the
+splendid times they were sure to have.
+
+"Your dear mother," Miss L---- wrote, "will easily recall her old
+schoolmate and friend. I have heard of you, Grace, through my friend,
+Madame Necker, who was your instructress in Paris, and I have two
+objects in writing. One is to secure you as a teacher in reading for an
+advanced class of mine. The class would meet but once a week; your
+office would be to read to them, interpreting the best authors, and to
+influence them in the choice of books adapted for young girls."
+
+Grace held her breath. "Mother!" she exclaimed, "is Miss L---- in her
+right mind?"
+
+"A very level-headed person, Grace. Read on."
+
+"I have also a vacant scholarship, and I will let you name a friend of
+yours to fill it. I would like a minister's daughter. Is there any dear
+little twelve-year-old girl who would like to come to my school, and
+whose parents would like to send her, but cannot afford so much expense?
+Because, if there is such a child among your friends, I will give her a
+warm welcome. Jane Wainwright your honored mother, knows that I will be
+too happy thus to add a happiness to her lot in life."
+
+Mother and daughter looked into each other's eyes. One thought was in
+both.
+
+"Laura Raeburn!" they exclaimed together.
+
+Laura Raeburn it was who entered Miss L----'s, her heart overflowing
+with satisfaction, and so the never-shaken friendship between
+Wishing-Brae and the Manse was made stronger still, as by cements and
+rivets.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE TOWER ROOM.
+
+
+As time went on, Grace surely did not have to share a third part of her
+sisters' room, did she? For nothing is so much prized by most girls as a
+room of their very own, and a middle daughter, particularly such a
+middle daughter as Grace Wainwright, has a claim to a foothold--a wee
+bit place, as the Scotch say--where she can shut herself in, and read
+her Bible, and say her prayers, and write her letters, and dream her
+dreams, with nobody by to see. Mrs. Wainwright had been a good deal
+disturbed about there being no room for Grace when she came back to
+Highland, and one would have been fitted up had there been an extra cent
+in the family exchequer. Grace didn't mind, or if she did, she made
+light of her sacrifice; but her sisters felt that they ought to help her
+to privacy.
+
+Eva and Miriam came over to the Manse to consult us in the early days.
+
+I suggested screens.
+
+"You can do almost anything with screens and portieres," I said. "One
+of the loveliest rooms I ever saw in my life is in a cottage in the
+Catskills, where one large room is separated into drawing-room, library,
+and dining-room, and sometimes into a spare chamber, as well, by the
+judicious use of screens."
+
+"Could we buy them at any price we could pay?" said Miriam.
+
+"Buy them, child? What are you talking about? You can make them. You
+need only two or three clothes-horses for frames, some chintz, or even
+wall-paper or calico, a few small tacks, a little braid, a hammer and
+patience."
+
+After Grace was fairly launched on her career as teacher, mother
+suggested one day that the tower-room at Wishing-Brae could be
+transformed into a maiden's bower without the spending of much money,
+and that it would make an ideal girl's room, "just the nest for Grace,
+to fold her wings in and sing her songs--a nest with an outlook over the
+tree-tops and a field of stars above it."
+
+"Mother dear, you are too poetical and romantic for anything, but I
+believe," said Amy, "that it could be done, and if it could it ought."
+
+The tower at Wishing-Brae was then a large, light garret-room, used for
+trunks and boxes. Many a day have I spent there writing stories when I
+was a child, and oh! what a prospect there was and is from those
+windows--prospect of moors and mountains, of ribbons of rivers and white
+roads leading out to the great world. You could see all Highland from
+the tower windows. In sunny days and in storms it was a delight beyond
+common just to climb the steep stairs and hide one's self there.
+
+We put our heads together, all of us. We resolved at last that the
+tower-room should be our birthday gift to Grace. It was quite easy to
+contrive and work when she was absent, but not so easy to keep from
+talking about the thing in her presence. Once or twice we almost let it
+out, but she suspected nothing, and we glided over the danger as over
+ice, and hugged ourselves that we had escaped. We meant it for a
+surprise.
+
+First of all, of course, the place had to be thoroughly cleaned, then
+whitewashed as to the ceiling, and scoured over and over as to the
+unpainted wood. Archie Vanderhoven and all the brothers of both families
+helped manfully with this, and the two dear old doctors both climbed up
+stairs every day, and gave us their criticism. When the cleanness and
+the sweetness were like the world after the deluge, we began to furnish.
+The floor was stained a deep dark cherry red; Mrs. Raeburn presented the
+room with a large rug, called an art-square; Mrs. Vanderhoven made
+lovely écru curtains of cheese-cloth, full and flowing, for the windows
+and these were caught back by cherry ribbons.
+
+We had a regular controversy over the bed, half of us declaring for a
+folding bed, that could be shut up by day and be an armoire or a
+book-case, the others wanting a white enameled bed with brass knobs and
+bars. The last party carried the day.
+
+The boys hung some shelves, and on these we arranged Grace's favorite
+books. Under the books in the window were her writing-table and her
+chair and foot-stool. The Vanderhovens sent a pair of brass andirons for
+the fireplace, and the little Hastings children, who were taken into the
+secret, contributed a pair of solid silver candlesticks.
+
+Never was there a prettier room than that which we stood and surveyed
+one soft April morning when it was pronounced finished. Our one regret
+was that dear Mrs. Wainwright could not see it. But the oldest of the
+Raeburn boys brought over his camera and took a picture of the room, and
+this was afterwards enlarged and framed for one of Mrs. Wainwright's own
+birthdays.
+
+"Mother dear," said Grace one evening, as they sat together for a
+twilight talk, "do you believe God always answers prayers?"
+
+"Always, my child."
+
+"Do you think we can always see the answers, feel sure He has heard
+us?"
+
+"The answers do not always come at once, Grace, nor are they always what
+we expect, but God sends us what is best for us, and He gives us
+strength to help answer the prayers we make. Sometimes prayers are
+answered before they leave our lips. Don't you know that in every 'Oh,
+my Father,' is the answer, 'Here, my child?'"
+
+"I used to long, years ago," said Grace, "when I was as happy as I could
+be with dear uncle and auntie, just to fly to you and my father. It
+seemed sometimes as if I would die just to get home to Highland again,
+and be one of the children. Uncle and auntie want me to go abroad with
+them this summer, just for a visit, and they are so good they will take
+one of my sisters and one of the Raeburns; but I hate to think of the
+ocean between you and me again even for a few weeks."
+
+"You must go, dearie," said Mrs. Wainwright. "The dear uncle is part
+owner of you, darling, and he's very generous; but he can never have you
+back to keep."
+
+"No, indeed."
+
+"Which of the Raeburns do you suppose they can best spare?"
+
+"I don't know which they would choose to spare, but Amy will be the one
+to go. She was born under a fortunate star, and the rest will help to
+send her."
+
+"I'd like Frances myself."
+
+"Frances is the stay-at-home daughter. She cannot be spared. It will be
+Amy, and I will let Miriam go with you, and Eva, who is the youngest,
+can wait for her turn some other day."
+
+"Is that Burden's cart going down the lane?" inquired Grace, looking out
+of the window. "It's queer how many errands Mr. Burden's had here
+lately. I believe he's been investing in another cart, or else he has
+painted the old one. Business must be brisk. There come papa, and Dr.
+Raeburn with him. Why, mother, all the Raeburns are coming! If there is
+to be company, I might have been told."
+
+"So might I," said Mrs. Wainwright, with spirit. "Hurry, Grace, bring me
+some cologne and water to wash my face and hands, and give me my
+rose-pink wrapper. Turn the key in the door, dearie. An invalid should
+never be seen except looking her best. You can slip away and get into a
+tea gown before you meet them, if they are coming to supper. Whose
+birthday is it? This seems to be a surprise party."
+
+"Why, mamma--it's my birthday; but you don't think there's anything on
+foot that I don't know of--do you, dearest?"
+
+"I wouldn't like to say what I think, my pet. There, the coast is
+clear. Run away and change your gown. Whoever wished to see me now may
+do so. The queen is ready to give audience. Just wheel my chair a little
+to the left, so that I can catch the last of that soft pink after-glow."
+
+"And were you really entirely unprepared, Grace," said the girls later,
+"and didn't you ever for a single moment notice anything whatsoever we
+were doing?"
+
+"Never for one instant. I missed my Tennyson and my French Bible, but
+thought Eva had borrowed them, and in my wildest imagination I never
+dreamed you would furnish a lovely big room at the top of the house all
+for me, my own lone self. It doesn't seem right for me to accept it."
+
+"Ah, but it is quite right!" said her father, tenderly, "and here is
+something else--a little birthday check from me to my daughter. Since
+you came home and set me on my feet I've prospered as never before. Eva
+has collected ever so many of my bills, and I've sold a corner of the
+meadow for a good round sum, a corner that never seemed to me to be
+worth anything. I need not stay always in your debt, financially, dear
+little woman."
+
+"But, papa."
+
+"But, Grace."
+
+"Your father is right, Grace," said the sweet low tones of Mrs.
+Wainwright, even and firm. "Through God's goodness you have had the
+means and disposition to help him, but neither of us ever intended to
+rest our weight always on your shoulders. You needn't work so hard
+hereafter, unless you wish, to."
+
+"Thank you, dear papa," said Grace. "I shall work just as hard, because
+I love to work, and because I am thus returning to the world some part
+of what I owe it; and next year, who knows, I may be able to pay Eva's
+bills at Miss L----'s."
+
+Eva jumped up and down with delight.
+
+Then came supper, served in Mrs. Wainwright's room, and after that music
+and a long merry talk, and at last, lest Mrs. Wainwright should be
+weary, the Raeburns took their way homeward over the lane and across the
+fields to the Manse.
+
+Grace from the tower window watched them going, the light of the moon
+falling in golden clearness over the fields and farms just waiting for
+spring,
+
+    "To serve the present age
+     My calling to fulfill,
+
+she whispered to herself. "Good-night, dear ones all, good-night," she
+said a little later climbing up the tower stair to her new room.
+
+"God bless you, middle daughter," said her father's deep tones.
+
+Soft, hushed footsteps pattered after the girl, step by step. She
+thought herself all alone as she shut the door, but presently a cold
+nose was thrust against her hand, a furry head rubbed her knee. Fido,
+the pet fox-terrier, had determined for his part to share the
+tower-room.
+
+
+
+
+The Golden Bird.[2]
+
+BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM.
+
+
+In times gone by there was a king who had at the back of his castle a
+beautiful pleasure garden, in which stood a tree that bore golden
+apples. As the apples ripened they were counted, but one morning one was
+missing. Then the king was angry, and he ordered that a watch should be
+kept about the tree every night. Now the king had three sons, and he
+sent the eldest to spend the whole night in the garden; so he watched
+till midnight, and then he could keep off sleep no longer, and in the
+morning another apple was missing. The second son had to watch the
+following night; but it fared no better, for when twelve o'clock had
+struck he went to sleep, and in the morning another apple was missing.
+Now came the turn of the third son to watch, and he was ready to do so;
+but the king had less trust in him, and believed he would acquit himself
+still worse than his brothers, but in the end he consented to let him
+try. So the young man lay down under the tree to watch, and resolved
+that sleep should not be master. When it struck twelve something came
+rushing through the air, and he saw in the moonlight a bird flying
+towards him, whose feathers glittered like gold. The bird perched upon
+the tree, and had already pecked off an apple, when the young man let
+fly an arrow at it. The bird flew away, but the arrow had struck its
+plumage, and one of its golden feathers fell to the ground; the young
+man picked it up, and taking it next morning to the king, told him what
+had happened in the night. The king called his council together, and all
+declared that such a feather was worth more than the whole kingdom.
+
+"Since the feather is so valuable," said the king, "one is not enough
+for me; I must and will have the whole bird."
+
+So the eldest son set off, and, relying on his own cleverness, he
+thought he should soon find the golden bird. When he had gone some
+distance he saw a fox sitting at the edge of a wood and he pointed his
+gun at him. The fox cried out:
+
+"Do not shoot me and I will give you good counsel. You are on your way
+to find the golden bird, and this evening you will come to a village in
+which two taverns stand facing each other. One will be brightly lighted
+up, and there will be plenty of merriment going on inside; do not mind
+about that, but go into the other one, although it will look to you
+very uninviting."
+
+"How can a silly beast give anyone rational advice?" thought the king's
+son, and let fly at the fox, but he missed him, and he stretched out his
+tail and ran quick into the wood. Then the young man went on his way,
+and toward evening he came to the village and there stood the two
+taverns; in one singing and revelry were going on, the other looked
+quite dull and wretched. "I should be a fool," said he, "to go into that
+dismal place while there is anything so good close by." So he went into
+the merry inn and there lived in clover, quite forgetting the bird and
+his father and all good counsel.
+
+As time went on, and the eldest son never came home, the second son set
+out to seek the golden bird. He met with the fox, just as the eldest
+did, and received good advice from him without attending to it. And when
+he came to the two taverns his brother was standing and calling to him
+at the window of one of them, out of which came sounds of merriment; so
+he could not resist, but went and reveled to his heart's content.
+
+And then, as time went on, the youngest son wished to go forth and to
+try his luck, but his father would not consent.
+
+"It would be useless," said he; "he is much less likely to find the bird
+than his brothers, and if any misfortune were to happen to him he would
+not know how to help himself, his wits are none of the best."
+
+But at last, as there was no peace to be had, he let him go. By the side
+of the wood sat the fox, begged him to spare his life and gave him good
+counsel. The young man was kind and said:
+
+"Be easy, little fox, I will do you no harm."
+
+"You shall not repent of it," answered the fox, "and that you may get
+there all the sooner get up and sit on my tail."
+
+And no sooner had he done so than the fox began to run, and off they
+went over stock and stone, so that the wind whistled in their hair. When
+they reached the village the young man got down and, following the fox's
+advice, went into the mean looking tavern without hesitating, and there
+he passed a quiet night. The next morning, when he went out into the
+field, the fox, who was sitting there already, said:
+
+"I will tell you further what you have to do. Go straight on until you
+come to a castle, before which a great band of soldiers lie, but do not
+trouble yourself about them, for they will be all asleep and snoring;
+pass through them and forward into the castle, and go through all the
+rooms until you come to one where there is a golden bird hanging in a
+wooden cage. Near at hand will stand empty a golden cage of state, but
+you must beware of taking the bird out of his ugly cage and putting him
+into the fine one; if you do so you will come to harm."
+
+After he had finished saying this the fox stretched out his tail again,
+and the king's son sat him down upon it; then away they went over stock
+and stone, so that the wind whistled through their hair. And when the
+king's son reached the castle he found everything as the fox had said;
+and he at last entered the room where the golden bird was hanging in a
+wooden cage, while a golden one was standing by; the three golden
+apples, too, were in the room. Then, thinking it foolish to let the
+beautiful bird stay in that mean and ugly cage, he opened the door of
+it, took hold of it and put it in the golden one. In the same moment the
+bird uttered a piercing cry. The soldiers awaked, rushed in, seized the
+king's son and put him in prison. The next morning he was brought before
+a judge, and, as he confessed everything, condemned to death. But the
+king said that he would spare his life on one condition, that he should
+bring him the golden horse whose paces were swifter than the wind, and
+that then he should also receive the golden bird as a reward.
+
+So the king's son set off to find the golden horse, but he sighed and
+was very sad, for how should it be accomplished? And then he saw his
+old friend, the fox, sitting by the roadside.
+
+"Now, you see," said the fox, "all this has happened because you would
+not listen to me. But be of good courage, I will bring you through, and
+will tell you how to get the golden horse. You must go straight on until
+you come to a castle, where the horse stands in his stable; before the
+stable-door the grooms will be lying, but they will all be asleep and
+snoring, and you can go and quietly lead out the horse. But one thing
+you must mind--take care to put upon him the plain saddle of wood and
+leather, and not the golden one, which will hang close by, otherwise it
+will go badly with you."
+
+Then the fox stretched out his tail and the king's son seated himself
+upon it, and away they went over stock and stone until the wind whistled
+through their hair. And everything happened just as the fox had said,
+and he came to the stall where the golden horse was, and as he was about
+to put on him the plain saddle he thought to himself:
+
+"Such a beautiful animal would be disgraced were I not to put on him the
+good saddle, which becomes him so well."
+
+However, no sooner did the horse feel the golden saddle touch him than
+he began to neigh. And the grooms all awoke, seized the king's son and
+threw him into prison. The next morning he was delivered up to justice
+and condemned to death, but the king promised him his life, and also to
+bestow upon him the golden horse if he could convey thither the
+beautiful princess of the golden castle.
+
+With a heavy heart the king's son set out, but by great good luck he
+soon met with the faithful fox.
+
+"I ought now to leave you to your own fate," said the fox, "but I am
+sorry for you, and will once more help you in your need. Your way lies
+straight up to the golden castle. You will arrive there in the evening,
+and at night, when all is quiet, the beautiful princess goes to the
+bath. And as she is entering the bathing-house go up to her and give her
+a kiss, then she will follow you and you can lead her away; but do not
+suffer her first to go and take leave of her parents, or it will go ill
+with you."
+
+Then the fox stretched out his tail, the king's son seated himself upon
+it, and away they went over stock and stone, so that the wind whistled
+through their hair. And when he came to the golden castle all was as the
+fox had said. He waited until midnight, when all lay in deep sleep, and
+then as the beautiful princess went to the bathing-house he went up to
+her and gave her a kiss, and she willingly promised to go with him, but
+she begged him earnestly, and with tears, that he would let her first
+go and take leave of her parents. At first he denied her prayer, but as
+she wept so much the more, and fell at his feet, he gave in at last. And
+no sooner had the princess reached her father's bedside than he, and all
+who were in the castle, waked up and the young man was seized and thrown
+into prison.
+
+The next morning the king said to him:
+
+"Thy life is forfeit, but thou shalt find grace if thou canst level that
+mountain that lies before my windows, and over which I am not able to
+see; and if this is done within eight days thou shalt have my daughter
+for a reward."
+
+So the king's son set to work and dug and shoveled away without ceasing,
+but when, on the seventh day, he saw how little he had accomplished, and
+that all his work was as nothing, he fell into great sadness and gave up
+all hope. But on the evening of the seventh day the fox appeared and
+said:
+
+"You do not deserve that I should help you, but go now and lie down to
+sleep and I will do the work for you."
+
+The next morning when he awoke and looked out of the window the mountain
+had disappeared. The young man hastened full of joy to the king and told
+him that his behest was fulfilled, and, whether the king liked it or
+not, he had to keep his word and let his daughter go.
+
+So they both went away together, and it was not long before the
+faithful fox came up to them.
+
+"Well, you have got the best first," said he, "but you must know that
+the golden horse belongs to the princess of the golden castle."
+
+"But how shall I get it?" asked the young man.
+
+"I am going to tell you," answered the fox. "First, go to the king who
+sent you to the golden castle and take to him the beautiful princess.
+There will then be very great rejoicing. He will willingly give you the
+golden horse, and they will lead him out to you; then mount him without
+delay and stretch out your hand to each of them to take leave, and last
+of all to the princess, and when you have her by the hand swing her upon
+the horse behind you and off you go! Nobody will be able to overtake
+you, for that horse goes swifter than the wind."
+
+And so it was all happily done, and the king's son carried off the
+beautiful princess on the golden horse. The fox did not stay behind, and
+he said to the young man:
+
+"Now, I will help you to get the golden bird. When you draw near the
+castle where the bird is let the lady alight, and I will take her under
+my care; then you must ride the golden horse into the castle yard, and
+there will be great rejoicing to see it, and they will bring out to you
+the golden bird; as soon as you have the cage in your hand you must
+start off back to us, and then you shall carry the lady away."
+
+The plan was successfully carried out, and when the young man returned
+with the treasure the fox said:
+
+"Now, what will you give me for my reward?"
+
+"What would you like?" asked the young man.
+
+"When we are passing through the wood I desire that you should slay me,
+and cut my head and feet off."
+
+"That were a strange sign of gratitude," said the king's son, "and I
+could not possibly do such a thing."
+
+Then said the fox:
+
+"If you will not do it, I must leave you; but before I go let me give
+you some good advice. Beware of two things; buy no gallows-meat, and sit
+at no brookside." With that the fox ran off into the wood.
+
+The young man thought to himself, "that is a wonderful animal, with most
+singular ideas. How should any one buy gallows-meat? and I am sure I
+have no particular fancy for sitting by a brookside."
+
+So he rode on with the beautiful princess, and their way led them
+through the village where his two brothers had stayed. There they heard
+great outcry and noise, and when he asked what it was all about, they
+told him that two people were going to be hanged. And when he drew near
+he saw that it was his two brothers, who had done all sorts of evil
+tricks, and had wasted all their goods. He asked if there were no means
+of setting them free.
+
+"Oh, yes! if you will buy them off," answered the people; "but why
+should you spend your money in redeeming such worthless men?"
+
+But he persisted in doing so; and when they were let go they all went on
+their journey together.
+
+After a while they came to the wood where the fox had met them first,
+and there it seemed so cool and sheltered from the sun's burning rays
+that the two brothers said:
+
+"Let us rest here for a little by the brook, and eat and drink to
+refresh ourselves."
+
+The young man consented, quite forgetting the fox's warning, and he
+seated himself by the brookside, suspecting no evil. But the two
+brothers thrust him backwards into the brook, seized the princess, the
+horse, and the bird, and went home to their father.
+
+"Is not this the golden bird that we bring?" said they; "and we have
+also the golden horse, and the princess of the golden castle."
+
+Then there was great rejoicing in the royal castle, but the horse did
+not feed, the bird did not chirp, and the princess sat still and wept.
+
+The youngest brother, however, had not perished. The brook was by good
+fortune dry, and he fell on the soft moss without receiving any hurt,
+but he could not get up again. But in his need the faithful fox was not
+lacking; he came up running and reproached him for having forgotten his
+advice.
+
+"But I cannot forsake you all the same," said he. "I will help you back
+again into daylight." So he told the young man to grasp his tail and
+hold on to it fast, and so he drew him up again.
+
+"Still you are not quite out of all danger," said the fox; "your
+brothers, not being certain of your death, have surrounded the woods
+with sentinels, who are to put you to death if you let yourself be
+seen."
+
+A poor beggar-man was sitting by the path and the young man changed
+clothes with him, and went clad in that wise into the king's courtyard.
+Nobody knew him, but the bird began to chirp, and the horse began to
+feed, and the beautiful princess ceased weeping.
+
+"What does this mean?" said the king, astonished.
+
+The princess answered:
+
+"I cannot tell, except that I was sad and now I am joyful; it is to me
+as if my rightful bridegroom had returned."
+
+Then she told him all that happened, although the two brothers had
+threatened to put her to death if she betrayed any of their secrets. The
+king then ordered every person who was in the castle to be brought
+before him, and with the rest came the young man like a beggar in his
+wretched garments; but the princess knew him and greeted him lovingly,
+falling on his neck and kissing him. The wicked brothers were seized and
+put to death, and the youngest brother was married to the princess and
+succeeded to the inheritance of his father.
+
+But what became of the poor fox? Long afterward the king's son was going
+through the wood and the fox met him and said:
+
+"Now, you have everything that you can wish for, but my misfortunes
+never come to an end, and it lies in your power to free me from them."
+And once more he prayed the king's son earnestly to slay him and cut off
+his head and feet. So at last he consented, and no sooner was it done
+than the fox was changed into a man, and was no other than the brother
+of the beautiful princess; and thus he was set free from a spell that
+had bound him for a long, long time.
+
+And now, indeed, there lacked nothing to their happiness as long as they
+lived.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 2: This is a fairy tale, pure and simple, but we must have a
+little nonsense now and then, and it does us no harm, but on the
+contrary much good.]
+
+
+
+
+Harry Pemberton's Text.
+
+BY ELIZABETH ARMSTRONG.
+
+
+"He that hath clean hands and a pure heart."
+
+Harry Pemberton went down the street whistling a merry tune. It was one
+I like very much, and you all know it, for it has been played by street
+bands and organs, and heard on every street corner for as many years as
+you boys have been living on the earth. "Wait till the clouds roll by,
+Jenny, wait till the clouds roll by." The lads I am writing this story
+for are between ten and fourteen years old, and they know that the
+clouds do once in a while roll around a person's path, and block the
+way, because fogs and mists _can_ block the way just as well as a big
+black stone wall.
+
+At the corner of the street a red-headed, blue-eyed lad, a head taller
+than Harry, joined the latter. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and
+walked beside him.
+
+"Well," said this last comer, whose name was Frank Fletcher, "will your
+mother let you go, Harry, boy? I hope she doesn't object."
+
+"But she does," said Harry, quickly "Mother doesn't think it right for
+us to start on such an expedition and she says all parents will say the
+same."
+
+"Of all things, where can the harm be? Only none of the rest of us have
+to ask leave, as you do."
+
+"Mother," said Harry, disregarding this speech, "is of the opinion that
+to enter a man's garden by the back gate, when the family are all away,
+is breaking into his premises and going where you haven't a right, and
+is burglary, and if you take flowers or anything, then it's stealing.
+Mere vulgar stealing, she says."
+
+"Why, Harry Pemberton, how dare you say _stealing_ to me?" And Frank's
+red hair stood up like a fiery flame.
+
+"I'm only quoting mother. Don't get mad, Frank."
+
+"Does your mother know it's to decorate the soldiers' graves that we
+want the flowers, and that Squire Eliot won't be home till next year,
+and there are hundreds 'n hundreds of flowers fading and wasting and
+dying on his lawn and garden, and furthermore that he'd _like_ the
+fellows to decorate the cemetery with his flowers? Does she know that, I
+say?" and the blue-eyed lad gesticulated fiercely.
+
+"All is," replied Harry, firmly, "that you boys can go ahead if you
+like, but mother won't let me, and you must count me out."
+
+"All is," said Frank, mimicking Harry's tone, "you're a mother-boy, and
+we fellows won't have anything more to do with you." So they sent him to
+Coventry, which means that they let him alone severely. They had begun
+to do it already, which was why he whistled so merrily to show he did
+not mind.
+
+I never for my part could see that there was any disgrace in being a
+mother-boy. But I suppose a boy thinks he is called babyish, if the name
+is fastened on him. As Harry went on his errand, he no longer whistled,
+at least he didn't whistle much. And as he went to school next day, and
+next day, and next day, and found himself left out in the cold, he would
+have been more than the usual twelve-year-old laddie if he had not felt
+his courage fail. But he had his motto text to bolster him up.
+
+"Clean hands, Harry, and a pure heart," said Mrs. Pemberton, cheerfully.
+"It cannot be right to steal flowers or anything else even to decorate
+the graves of our brave soldiers."
+
+And so the time passed--kite time, top time, hoop time, marble time.
+
+It was the evening before Memorial Day, at last.
+
+There was a good deal of stirring in the village. It was splendid
+moonlight. You could see to read large print. A whole crowd of boys met
+at the store and took their way across lots to the beautiful old Eliot
+place. The big house, with its broad porch and white columns, stood out
+in the glory of the moon. The gardens were sweet in the dew. Violets,
+lilies, roses, lilacs, snow-drops, whole beds of them.
+
+Every boy, and there were ten of them, had a basket and a pair of
+shears. They meant to get all the flowers they could carry and despoil
+the Eliot place, if necessary, to make the cemetery a grand looking spot
+to-morrow, when the veterans and the militia should be out with bands of
+music and flying flags, and the Governor, no less, coming in person to
+review the troops and make a speech in the very place where his own
+father was buried.
+
+In went the boys. Over the stile, up the paths, clear on toward the
+front portico. They separated into little groups and began to cut their
+flowers, the Eliots' flowers, all the Eliots in Europe, and not a soul
+on hand to save their property.
+
+Suddenly the boys were arrested and paralyzed with fright.
+
+An immense form leaped from behind the house and a deep-throated, baying
+bark resounded in a threatening roar. Juno, Squire Eliot's famous
+mastiff, the one that had taken a prize at the dog show, bounded out
+toward the marauders. They turned to fly, when a stern voice bade them
+stop.
+
+"You young rapscallions! You trespassers! You rascals! Stop this
+instant or I'll thrash every one of you! Humph!" said Squire Eliot,
+brandishing his cane, as the boys stopped and tremblingly came forward.
+"This is how my neighbors' sons treat my property when I'm away. Line up
+there against the fence, every one of you. _Charge_, Juno! _Charge_,
+good dog!"
+
+Squire Eliot looked keenly at the boys, every one of whom he knew.
+
+"Solomon's methods are out of fashion," he said, "and if I send you boys
+home the chances are that your fathers won't whip you as you deserve to
+be whipped, so I'll do the job myself. Fortunate thing I happened to
+change my plans and come home for the summer, instead of going away as I
+expected. I heard there was a plan of this sort on foot, but I didn't
+believe it till I overheard the whole thing talked of in the village
+this afternoon. Well, boys, I'll settle with you once for all, and then
+I'll forgive you, but you've got to pay the penalty first. Frank, hold
+out your hand."
+
+But just then there was an interruption. Lights appeared in the windows
+and a dainty little lady came upon the scene. The boys knew Grandmother
+Eliot, who wore her seventy years with right queenly grace, and never
+failed to have a kind word for man, woman and child in the old home.
+
+"Eugene," she called to the Squire, imperatively, "I can't allow this,
+my son. The boys have been punished enough. Their fault was in not
+seeing that you cannot do evil that good may come. Let every one of
+these young gentlemen come here to me. I want to talk with them."
+
+Now it is probable that most of the boys would have preferred a sharp
+blow or two from the Squire's cane to a reproof from his gentle old
+mother, whose creed led her to heap coals of fire on the heads of those
+who did wrong. But they had no choice. There was no help for it. They
+had to go up, shears, baskets and all, and let old Lady Eliot talk to
+them; and then, as they were going away, who should come out but a
+white-capped maid, with cake and lemonade, to treat the young
+depredators to refreshments.
+
+"There's only one fellow in our class who deserves cake and lemonade,"
+exclaimed Frank, "and he isn't here. We've all treated him meaner than
+dirt. We've been horrid to him, because he wouldn't join us in this. Now
+he's out of this scrape and we're in."
+
+"Harry Pemberton," said Squire Eliot, who had locked up his cane, and
+was quite calm, "Harry Pemberton, that's Lida Scott's boy, mother. Lida
+would bring him up well, I'm sure. Well, he shall have a lot of roses
+to-morrow to lay on Colonel Pemberton's grave. Isn't that fair, boys?"
+
+"Yes, yes," assented they all, with eagerness.
+
+"And as you have by your own admission treated Harry rather badly,
+suppose you make it up to him by coming here in the morning, carrying
+the roses to his house, and owning that you regret your behavior."
+
+It was rather a bitter pill, but the boys swallowed it bravely.
+
+Next day, as Harry and his mother, laden with dog-wood boughs and
+branches of lilac, set out for the little spot most sacred to them on
+earth, they met a procession which was headed by Frank Fletcher. The
+procession had a drum and a flag, and it had roses galore.
+
+"Honest roses, Harry," said Frank. "The Squire is at home and he gave
+them to us for you. Let me tell you about it."
+
+The story was told from beginning to end. Then Mrs. Pemberton said,
+"Now, boys, take for your everlasting motto from this time forth, 'Clean
+hands and a pure heart.'"
+
+
+
+
+Our Cats.
+
+
+The first cat of our recollection was a large, sleek, black and white
+animal, the pet and plaything of our very early childhood. Tom, as we
+called him, seemed much attached to us all, but when we moved from the
+house of his kittendom and attempted to keep him with us, we found that
+we had reckoned without our host; all our efforts were in vain; the cat
+returned to its former home and we gave it up as lost to us.
+
+The months sped along and we children had almost forgotten our late
+favorite, when one day he came mewing into the yard, and in so pitiable
+a condition that all our hearts were moved for him. He was in an
+emaciated state distressing to behold, and then one of his hind legs was
+broken so that the bone protruded through the skin. The dear old cat was
+at once fed, but it was soon seen that his injury was incurable, and our
+truly humane father said the only thing to do with Tom was to put him
+out of his misery. This was done, but we have ever kept in mind the cat
+that would not go from its first home, even with those it loved, and yet
+remembered those friends and came to them in trouble. I should have
+stated above, that the two homes were less than a mile apart.
+
+Morris was another black and white cat, named Morris from our minister,
+who gave him to brother. He was a fine fellow, and would jump a bar four
+feet from the floor. But brother obtained a pair of tiny squirrels, the
+striped squirrels, and feared that Morris would catch them, for he was
+all alert when he spied them, and so the cat was sent to the house of a
+friend, as this friend wished to possess him. Morris was let out of the
+basket in which he was carried into our friend's kitchen, and giving one
+frightened look at his surroundings he sprang up the chimney and was
+never seen by any of his early friends again. Poor Morris, we never knew
+his fate!
+
+One cat we named Snowball, just because he was so black. This cat was an
+unprincipled thief, and all unknown to us a person who disliked cats in
+general, and thieving cats in particular, killed Snowball.
+
+We once owned an old cat and her daughter, and when the mother had
+several kittens and the daughter had but one, the grandmother stole the
+daughter's kitten, and though the young mother cried piteously she never
+regained possession of her child. Again, once when our brother was
+ploughing he overturned a rabbit's nest, and taking the young rabbits
+therefrom he gave them to the cat, who had just been robbed of her
+kittens. Pussy was at once devoted to these babies, and cared for them
+tenderly, never for a moment neglecting them. Nevertheless, they died,
+one by one; their foster mother's care was not the kind they needed.
+
+Of all our cats we speak most tenderly of Friskie. She was brought when
+a kitten to our farm home, and if ever cat deserved eulogy it was she. A
+small cat with black coat and white breast and legs, not particularly
+handsome, but thoroughly good and very intelligent. The children played
+with her as they would; she was never known to scratch them, but would
+show her disapproval of any rough handling by a tap with her tiny velvet
+paw. She was too kind to scratch them.
+
+Friskie grew up with Trip, our little black and tan dog, and though Trip
+was selfish with her, Friskie loved him and showed her affection in
+various ways. If the dog came into the house wet with dew or rain the
+dear little cat would carefully dry him all off with her tongue, and
+though he growled at her for her officiousness she would persevere till
+the task was accomplished, and then the two would curl up behind the
+stove and together take a nap.
+
+When we became the owner of a canary, Friskie at once showed feline
+propensities; she wanted that bird, and saw no reason why she should be
+denied it. But when, from various tokens, Friskie learned that we
+valued it, she never again evinced any desire for the canary. And when,
+afterward, we raised a nest of birdlings, the little cat never attempted
+to touch them; no, not even when one flew out of doors and alighted
+almost at her feet. Instead of seizing it, Friskie watched us as we
+captured and returned it to the cage.
+
+The writer of this story became ill with extreme prostration, and now
+Friskie showed her affection in a surprising manner. Each morning she
+came into our room with a tidbit, such as she was sure was toothsome:
+Mice, rats, at one time a half-grown rabbit, and, at length, a bird.
+
+It was warm weather, the room windows were open, and being upon the
+first floor, when Friskie brought in her offerings they were seized and
+thrown from the window to the ground. At this she would spring after the
+delicacy and bring it back in a hurry, determined that it should be
+eaten, mewing and coaxing just as she might with her kittens. That the
+food was not accepted evidently distressed her. When she came with the
+little bird, she uttered her usual coaxing sound, and then, when it was
+unheeded, she sprung upon the bed and was about to give it to the
+invalid, who uttered a scream of fright. At this dear Friskie fled from
+the room and, we think, she never brought another treat. It was useless
+to try to treat a person so unappreciative.
+
+At one time, when Friskie was the proud mother of four pretty kittens,
+she was greatly troubled with the liberties that young Herbert, aged
+three, took with her family. The little boy didn't want to hurt the tiny
+creatures, but he would hold them and play with them.
+
+Mother cat bore this for a time, and then carried the kittens away to
+the barn, and hid them where no one but herself could find them.
+
+While these babies were yet young Herbert was taken away for a visit.
+Strange to say, that upon the morning of the child's departure Friskie
+came leading the little ones down to the house. They could walk now, and
+at first she came part of the distance with three of them, stopped,
+surveyed her group and went back for the remaining kitten. All we have
+told is strictly true; it was evident that the cat knew when the
+disturber of her peace was gone, and also evident that she knew how many
+were her children.
+
+Friskie died at the age of twelve, the most lovable and intelligent cat
+we have ever known.
+
+Of late we have had two maltese cats in our kitchen, one old, the other
+young. The old cat has been jealous and cross with the young one, while
+the young cat has been kind and pleasant with her companion. One day the
+young cat, Friskie's namesake, sat and meowed piteously. We were
+present, and for a time did not notice her, for she is very
+demonstrative. What was our surprise to see her go to a low closet in
+the room and lie down, stretch her paws over her head, and by an effort
+pull open the door to release the old cat, who had accidentally been
+shut up in this closet.
+
+The old cat is always very reticent, and would not ask to be let out.
+Her usual way of asking to have a door open is to tap upon it with her
+paw. She scarcely ever meows.
+
+We might have enlarged upon these incidents, but have simply told facts.
+
+
+
+
+    Outovplace.
+
+
+    There's a very strange country called Outovplace,
+      (I've been there quite often, have you?)
+    Where the people can't find the things they want,
+      And hardly know what to do.
+
+    If a boy's in a hurry, and wants his cap,
+      Or a basin to wash his face,
+    He never can find that on its nail,
+      Or this in its proper place.
+
+    His shoe hides far away under the lounge;
+      His handkerchief's gone astray;
+    Oh! how can a boy get off to school,
+      If he's always bothered this way?
+
+    Oh! a very queer country is Outovplace--
+      (Did you say you had been there?)
+    Then you've seen, like me, a slate on the floor
+      And a book upon the stair.
+
+    You think they are easy to find, at least!
+      O, yes! if they would but stay
+    Just there till they're wanted; but then they don't;
+      Alas! that isn't the way.
+
+    When a boy wants his hat, he sees his ball,
+      As plain as ever can be;
+    But when he has time for a game, not a sign
+      Of bat or a ball finds he.
+
+    Sometimes a good man is just off to the train,
+      (That is, it is time to go);
+    And he can't put his hand on his Sunday hat!
+      It surely must vex him, I know.
+
+    If somebody wants to drive a nail,
+      It's "Where is the hammer, my dear?"
+    And so it goes, week in, week out,
+      And truly all the year.
+
+    How 'twould gladden the women of Outovplace,
+      If the boys and girls themselves
+    Should wake up some morning determined quite
+      To use hooks, closets and shelves.
+
+
+
+
+The Boy Who Dared to Be a Daniel.
+
+BY S. JENNIE SMITH.
+
+
+Sunday-school was dismissed and the children were going, some in one
+direction, some in another, to their homes. The majority of them were
+chatting merrily of the proposed strawberry festival, but one little
+fellow seemed to be engrossed with more serious thoughts. He was alone
+and apparently unconscious of the nearness of his companions until a lad
+about his own age joined him and inquired, "Say, Ralph, what are you
+thinking of? You look as wise as an owl."
+
+"I should hope I was a little bit wiser than a bird," answered Ralph,
+with a smile. "But I was just awondering, Ned, if I could be brave
+enough to go into the lion's den like Daniel did. I wouldn't like to
+stop praying to God, but it would be pretty hard to make up your mind to
+face a lot of lions."
+
+"Yes, indeed; but then father says that we don't need grace to do those
+hard things until we are called upon to do them, and then if we ask God,
+He will give us the strength we require. All we've got to do is to
+attend to the duty nearest us, and seek for strength for that."
+
+Ned was the minister's son and had enjoyed many an instructive talk with
+his kind father.
+
+"He says, too, that we are often called upon to face other kinds of
+lions in this life, if we persist as we ought in doing the right. But
+here we part, Ralph, good-bye," and the boy turned off into a side road,
+leaving Ralph again alone.
+
+Ralph's way led through a quiet country lane, for his home was beyond
+the village where nearly all of his companions lived.
+
+"Well, I won't have to go into the lion's den to-day," he said to
+himself, as he sauntered along; "and when I do I guess God will give me
+the strength," and with this thought a gayer frame of mind came to him.
+"But it must be grand to be a Daniel."
+
+Just then two large boys crept stealthily from the bushes that lined one
+side of the road and looked anxiously around. "Say, John, there's
+Ralph," one of them muttered. "He'll tell we didn't go to Sunday-school.
+Let's frighten him into promising not to."
+
+"Hello!" cried John, in a loud voice.
+
+Ralph turned and was surprised to see his brothers approaching him.
+
+"Going home?" one of them asked.
+
+"Why, yes, Tom, ain't you?"
+
+"No, not yet; and if any one inquires where we are, just mention that
+we've been to Sunday-school and will be home soon."
+
+Ralph's eyes opened wide in astonishment. "But you didn't go to
+Sunday-school," he replied, "because your teacher came and asked me
+where you were, and I told her I didn't know; I thought you were
+coming."
+
+"Well, it isn't any of your business whether we went or not," growled
+John. "All you've got to do is to say we were there if you're asked."
+
+"I can't tell a lie about it, can I?"
+
+"Yes, you can, if you just make up your mind to do it."
+
+"But I won't tell a lie about it," said Ralph, sturdily.
+
+"No, I suppose you'd rather get your brothers in a scrape. You know what
+will happen if we're found out."
+
+Ralph hesitated. He was an affectionate child and disliked to see
+anybody in trouble, especially his own brothers, but he had a very
+decided opinion that he was in the right, and therefore concluded to
+speak the truth at all hazards.
+
+"I'm just as sorry as I can be," he returned, sadly, "and I'll beg papa
+to forgive you and say I know you won't ever do it again, but if they
+ask me I can't tell a lie about it."
+
+"You won't, eh, little saint?" cried John, angrily, grabbing his
+brother's arm. "Now just promise to do as we say, or we'll pitch you
+into that deep pond over there."
+
+Ralph was too young to realize that this was only an idle threat, and he
+was very much frightened, yet in that moment of terror the thought of
+Daniel in the lion's den flashed through his mind and gave him the
+strength that he had not dared to hope for. He saw in an instant that he
+had come to his temptation and his den of lions, and he felt that as God
+had protected Daniel in that far-away time, He would now protect him.
+Ralph had never learned to swim, and he was in fear of the big frogs and
+other creatures that inhabit ponds, but he did not flinch. With a
+boldness that surprised even himself, he looked steadily at his brother
+and replied, "You cannot frighten me into doing that wrong thing. I will
+not pray to the image of falsehood that you have set up."
+
+It was now his brothers' turn to be astonished. They had never thought
+of Ralph as anything but a timid, little boy who could be overcome by
+the slightest threat, and for a moment they were at a loss what to say.
+Of course, Ralph was merely repeating some of his teacher's words, but
+they were not aware of that fact, and consequently wondered at his
+remarks. Finally John managed to stammer, "Do--do you want to go in that
+pond?"
+
+"No manner of hurt was found upon him because he believed in his God,"
+continued Ralph, with his mind still on his Sunday-school; "God delivers
+His faithful ones in time of trouble."
+
+Turning away, John was about to walk off, but Tom detained him. "Wait a
+moment, John," he said, and then the others noticed that there were
+tears in his eyes. "I want to tell my brave little brother that I honor
+him for sticking to the truth. As for me, I shall confess to father, and
+promise not to repeat the offence."
+
+"I am with you," John replied. "Come Ralph, we'll go together now and
+hereafter. We need never be afraid to go where a Daniel leads."
+
+
+
+
+Little Redcap.[3]
+
+BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM.
+
+
+There was once a sweet little maid, much beloved by everybody, but most
+of all by her grandmother, who never knew how to make enough of her.
+Once she sent her a little cap of red velvet, and as it was very
+becoming to her, and she never wore anything else, people called her
+Little Redcap. One day her mother said to her:
+
+"Come, Little Redcap, here are some cakes and a flask of milk for you to
+take to your grandmother; she is weak and ill, and they will do her
+good. Make haste and start before it grows hot, and walk properly and
+nicely, and don't run, or you might fall and break the flask of milk and
+there would be none left for grandmother. And when you go into her room,
+don't forget to say, 'Good morning' instead of staring about you."
+
+"I will be sure to take care," said Little Redcap to her mother, and
+gave her hand upon it. Now the grandmother lived away in the wood, half
+an hour's walk from the village, and when Little Redcap had reached the
+wood, she met the wolf; but as she did not know what a bad sort of
+animal he was, she did not feel frightened.
+
+"Good day, Little Redcap," said he.
+
+"Thank you kindly, Wolf," answered she.
+
+"Where are you going so early, Little Redcap?"
+
+"To my grandmother's."
+
+"What are you carrying under your apron?"
+
+"Cakes and milk; we baked yesterday; and my grandmother is very weak and
+ill, so they will do her good, and strengthen her."
+
+"Where does your grandmother live, Little Redcap?"
+
+"A quarter of an hour's walk from here; her house stands beneath the
+three oak trees, and you may know it by the hazel bushes," said Little
+Redcap. The wolf thought to himself:
+
+"That tender young thing would be a delicious morsel, and would taste
+better than the old one; I must manage somehow to get both of them."
+
+Then he walked beside little Redcap for a little while, and said to her
+softly and sweetly:
+
+"Little Redcap, just look at the pretty flowers that are growing all
+round you, and I don't think you are listening to the song of the
+birds; you are posting along just as if you were going to school, and it
+is so delightful out here in the wood."
+
+Little Redcap glanced round her, and when she saw the sunbeams darting
+here and there through the trees, and lovely flowers everywhere, she
+thought to herself:
+
+"If I were to take a fresh nosegay to my grandmother, she would be very
+pleased, and it is so early in the day that I shall reach her in plenty
+of time;" and so she ran about in the wood, looking for flowers. And as
+she picked one she saw a still prettier one a little farther off, and so
+she went farther and farther into the wood. But the wolf went straight
+to the grandmother's house and knocked at the door.
+
+"Who is there?" cried the grandmother.
+
+"Little Redcap," he answered, "and I have brought you some cake and some
+new milk. Please open the door."
+
+"Lift the latch," cried the poor old grandmother, feebly; "I am too weak
+to get up."
+
+So the wolf lifted the latch, and the door flew open, and he fell on the
+grandmother and ate her up without saying one word. Then he drew on her
+clothes, put on her cap, lay down in her bed and drew the curtains, the
+old wretch that he was.
+
+Little Redcap was all this time running about among the flowers, and
+when she had gathered as many as she could hold; she remembered her
+grandmother, and set off to go to her. She was surprised to find the
+door standing wide open, and when she came inside she felt very strange
+and thought to herself:
+
+"Oh, dear, how uncomfortable I feel, and I was so glad this morning to
+go to my grandmother!"
+
+And when she said "Good morning!" there was no answer. Then she went up
+to the bed and drew back the curtains; there lay the grandmother with
+her cap pulled over her eyes, so that she looked very odd.
+
+"Oh, grandmother, what large ears you have got!"
+
+"The better to hear you with."
+
+"Oh, grandmother, what great eyes you have got!"
+
+"The better to see you with."
+
+"Oh, grandmother, what large hands you have got!"
+
+"The better to take hold of you with, my dear."
+
+"But, grandmother, what a terrible large mouth you have got!"
+
+"The better to devour you!" And no sooner had the wolf said this than he
+made one bound from the bed and swallowed up poor Little Redcap.
+
+Then the wolf, having satisfied his hunger, lay down again in the bed,
+went to sleep and began to snore loudly. The huntsman heard him as he
+was passing by the house and thought:
+
+"How the old lady snores--I would better see if there is anything the
+matter with her."
+
+Then he went into the room and walked up to the bed, and saw the wolf
+lying there.
+
+"At last I find you, you old sinner!" said he; "I have been looking for
+you for a long time." And he made up his mind that the wolf had
+swallowed the grandmother whole, and that she might yet be saved. So he
+did not fire, but took a pair of shears and began to slit up the wolf's
+body. When he made a few snips Little Redcap appeared, and after a few
+more snips she jumped out and cried, "Oh, dear, how frightened I have
+been, it is so dark inside the wolf!"
+
+And then out came the old grandmother, still living and breathing. But
+Little Redcap went and quickly fetched some large stones, with which she
+filled the wolf's body, so that when he waked up, and was going to rush
+away, the stones were so heavy that he sank down and fell dead.
+
+They were all three very much pleased. The huntsman took off the wolf's
+skin and carried it home to make a fur rug. The grandmother ate the
+cakes and drank the milk and held up her head again, and Little Redcap
+said to herself that she would never again stray about in the wood
+alone, but would mind what her mother told her, nor talk to strangers.
+
+It must also be related how a few days afterward, when Little Redcap was
+again taking cakes to her grandmother, another wolf spoke to her, and
+wanted to tempt her to leave the path; but she was on her guard, and
+went straight on her way, and told her grandmother how that the wolf had
+met her and wished her good-day, but had looked so wicked about the eyes
+that she thought if it had not been on the high road he would have
+devoured her.
+
+"Come," said the grandmother, "we will shut the door, so that he may not
+get in."
+
+Soon after came the wolf knocking at the door, and calling out, "Open
+the door, grandmother, I am Little Redcap, bringing you cakes." But they
+remained still and did not open the door. After that the wolf slunk by
+the house, and got at last upon the roof to wait until Little Redcap
+should return home in the evening; then he meant to spring down upon her
+and devour her in the darkness. But the grandmother discovered his plot.
+Now, there stood before the house a great stone trough, and the
+grandmother said to the child: "Little Redcap, I was boiling sausages
+yesterday, so take the bucket and carry away the water they were boiled
+in and pour it into the trough."
+
+And Little Redcap did so until the great trough was quite full. When
+the smell of the sausages reached the nose of the wolf he snuffed it up
+and looked around, and stretched out his neck so far that he lost his
+balance and began to slip, and he slipped down off the roof straight in
+the great trough and was drowned. Then Little Redcap went cheerfully
+home and came to no harm.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 3: Every boy and girl should read this pretty fairy story.]
+
+
+
+
+New Zealand Children.
+
+
+New Zealand children are pretty, dark-eyed, smooth-cheeked little
+creatures, with clear skins of burnt umber color, and the reddest mouths
+in the world, until the girl grows up and her mother tattooes her lips
+blue, for gentility's sake.
+
+All day they live in the open air, unless during a violent storm. But
+they are perfectly healthy and very clean, for the first thing they do
+is to plunge into the sea water. Besides this, they take baths in warm
+springs that abound everywhere, and which keep their skins in good
+order. As to their breakfast, I am afraid that often they have some very
+unpleasant things to eat--stale shark, for instance, and sour corn
+bread--so sour that you could not swallow it, and boiled fern root, or
+the pulp of fern stems, or crawfish.
+
+Even if their father had happened to cut down a tall palm the day
+before, in order to take what white people call the "palm cabbage" out
+of it's very top, I'm afraid he would not share this dainty with the
+children. I am not sure he would offer even their mother a bite. It
+would be literally a bite if he did, for when people get together to
+eat in New Zealand, one takes a piece of something from the basket in
+which food is served, bites out a mouthful and hands it to the next, who
+does the same, and passes it to his neighbor, and so on until it is all
+gone, and some other morsel is begun upon.
+
+Sixty or seventy years ago New Zealanders had never seen a pig or any
+animal larger than a cat. But about that time, one Captain King, feeling
+that a nation without pork and beans and succotash could never come to
+any good, brought them some Indian corn and some beans, and taught them
+how to plant and cultivate them, and shortly sent them some fine pigs,
+not doubting but that they would understand what to do with them without
+instruction.
+
+However, the New Zealanders had no idea what the pigs were sent for, and
+everybody asked everybody else about it, until one--the smart fellow who
+knows it all--said that he had heard all about them from a sailor, and
+that they were horses! Oh, certainly they were horses! The sailor had
+described them perfectly--long heads, pointed ears, broad backs, four
+legs, and a tail. They were to ride upon. Great chiefs always rode them
+where the sailors lived.
+
+So the New Zealand chiefs mounted the pigs, and when Captain King came
+to see how everything was going on, they had ridden them to death--all
+but a few obstinate ones, who had eaten up the maize as soon as it grew
+green, and finished up the beans by way of dessert before the vines were
+halfway up the poles.
+
+Captain King did not despair, however. He took two natives home with
+him, taught them all about the cultivation of maize, and the rearing of
+pigs; and pork is now as popular in New Zealand as it is in Cincinnati.
+You can hardly take a walk without meeting a mother-pig and a lot of
+squealing piglets; and people pet them more than they ever did or ever
+will in their native lands. Here, you know, when baby wants something to
+play with, some one finds him a kitten, a ball of white floss, or a
+little Maltese, or a black morsel with green eyes and a red mouth; but
+in New Zealand they give him a very, very young pig, smooth as a kid
+glove, with little slits of eyes, and his curly tail twisted up into a
+little tight knot; and the brown baby hauls it about and pulls its ears
+and goes to sleep hugging it fast; and there they lie together, the
+piglet grunting comfortably, the baby snoring softly, for hours at a
+time.
+
+It is pleasanter to think of a piggy as a pet than as pork, and
+pleasanter still to know that the little New Zealanders have something
+really nice to eat--the finest sweet potatoes that grow anywhere.
+
+They say that sweet potatoes, which they call _kumere_, is the food
+good spirits eat, and they sing a song about them, and so do the
+mothers, which is very pretty. The song tells how, long ago, Ezi-Ki and
+his wife, Ko Paui, sailing on the water in a boat, were wrecked, and
+would have been drowned but for good New Zealanders, who rescued them.
+And Ko Paui saw that the children had very little that was wholesome for
+them to eat, and showed her gratitude by returning, all by herself, to
+Tawai, to bring them seeds of the _kumere_. And how storms arose and she
+was in danger, but at last arrived in New Zealand safely and taught them
+how to plant and raise this excellent food. And every verse of the song
+ends with: "Praise the memory of beautiful Ko Paui, wife of Ezi-Ki,
+forever."
+
+Little New Zealanders run about with very little on, as a general thing,
+but they all have cloaks--they call them "mats." Their mother sits on
+the ground with a little weaving frame about two feet high before her,
+and makes them of what is called New Zealand flax. The long threads hang
+down in rows of fringes, one over the other, and shine like silk. They
+have also water-proofs, or "rain-mats," made of long polished leaves
+that shed the water. When a little New Zealand girl pulls this over her
+head she does not mind any shower. You may see a circle of these funny
+objects sitting in the pelting rain, talking to each other and looking
+just like tiny haystacks.
+
+New Zealand children have, strange to say, many toys. They swim like
+ducks, and, as I have said, revel in the natural hot baths, where they
+will sit and talk by the hour. In fact, the life of a New Zealand child
+is full of occupation, and both girls and boys are bright,
+light-hearted, and intelligent.
+
+
+
+
+The Breeze from the Peak.
+
+
+A stiff Sea Breeze was having the wildest, merriest time, rocking the
+sailboats and fluttering the sails, chasing the breakers far up the
+beach, sending the fleecy cloudsails scudding across the blue ocean
+above, making old ocean roar with delight at its mad pranks, while all
+the little wavelets dimpled with laughter; the Cedar family on the
+shore, old and rheumatic as they were, laughed till their sides ached,
+and the children shouted and cheered upon the beach. How fresh and
+strong and life-giving it was. The children wondered why it was so
+jolly, but never guessed the reason; and its song was so wonderfully
+sweet, but only the waves understood the words of the wild, strange
+melody.
+
+"I have come," it sang, "from a land far across the water. My home was
+on the mountain top, high up among the clouds. Such a white, white world
+as it was! The mountain peak hooded in snow-ermine, and the gray-white
+clouds floating all around me; and it was so very still; my voice, the
+only sound to be heard, and that was strange and muffled. But though the
+fluffy clouds were so silent, they were gay companions and full of fun;
+let them find me napping once, and, puff! Down they would send the
+feathery snow, choking and blinding me, then would come a wild chase;
+once in a mad frolic my breath parted the clouds and I saw down the
+mountain side! Never shall I forget the picture I saw that day, framed
+by the silvery clouds. I, who had known nothing but that pale stillness
+and bitter cold, for the first time saw life and color, and a
+shimmering, golden light, resting on tree and river and valley farm; do
+you wonder I forgot the mountain peak, the clouds--_everything_ that was
+behind, and, without even a last farewell, spread my wings and flew
+swiftly down the mountain side? Very soon I was far below that snowy
+cloud world, with a bright blue sky above me, and patches of red gravel
+and green moss and gray lichens beneath. Once I stopped to rest upon a
+great rock, moss-covered, and with curling ferns at its base; from its
+side flowed a crystal spring, so clear and cool that I caught up all I
+could carry to refresh me on my journey; but it assured me I need not
+take that trouble, for it was also on its way down the mountain side.
+
+"'But you have no wings,' I said. 'Are you sure of that?' answered the
+spring, and I thought she looked up in an odd way at some of my cloud
+friends, who had followed in my track; then she added: 'And, even if you
+are right, there is more than one way to reach the foot of the
+mountain; I am sure you will find me there before you.'
+
+"I could not but doubt this, for I am swifter than any bird of the air,
+but she only laughed at me as I flew on, and once, looking back, I saw
+she had started on her journey, and was creeping slowly along a tiny
+thread of water, almost hidden in the grass. I next floated upon some
+dark green trees, that sent out a spicy odor as I touched their boughs,
+and when I moved they sang a low, tuneful melody; their song was of the
+snowy mountain peak, the clouds, the bubbling spring, the sunshine and
+the green grass; yes, and there was something else, a deep undertone
+that I did not then understand, and the melody was a loom that wove them
+all into a living harmony; some of my breezes are there still, listening
+to the Pine Trees' song; but I hurried on, the grass grew green and
+luscious along my way, and the sheep, with their baby lambs, were
+pastured upon it; rills and brooks joined hands, and went racing faster
+and faster down between the rocks; one of the brooks had grown quite
+wide and deep, and as it leaped and sparkled and sang its way into the
+valley, where it flowed into a wide, foaming stream, it looked back with
+a gay laugh, and I saw in its depths the face of the little spring I had
+left far up the mountain side.
+
+"It was summer in the valley, and the air was scented with roses and
+ripening fruits. It was very warm and sultry, and I fanned the
+children's faces until they laughed and clapped their hands, crying out:
+'It's the breeze from the mountain peak! How fresh and sweet and cool it
+is.'
+
+"I rocked the baby-birds to sleep in their leafy cradles. I entered the
+houses, making the curtains flutter, and filling the rooms with my
+mountain perfume. I longed to stay forever in that beautiful summer
+land, but now the mountain stream beckoned me on. Swiftly I flew along
+its banks, turning the windmills met on the way, and swelling out the
+sails of the boats until the sailors sang for joy. On and on we
+journeyed; my mountain friend, joined by a hundred meadow-brooks, grew
+deeper and wider as it flowed along, and its breath began to have a
+queer, salty odor. One day I heard a throbbing music far off that
+sounded like the undertone in the Pine Trees' melody; then very soon we
+reached this great body of water, and, looking across, could see no sign
+of land anywhere; but still we journeyed on. I feared at first that my
+friend was lost to me, but often she laughed from the crest of the wave,
+or glistened in a white cap, cheering my way to this sunny shore; and
+now, at last, we are here, laden with treasure for each one of you. Take
+it, and be glad!"
+
+But the children did not understand the song of the Sea Breeze, nor did
+they know what made its breath so wonderfully sweet. But all day long
+they breathed in its fragrance, and gathered up the treasures brought to
+their feet by the tiny spring born up in the clouds.
+
+"It's a beautiful world," they cried.
+
+And at night, when the Sea Breeze was wakeful, and sang to the waves of
+the mountain peak, the children would lift their heads from the white
+pillows to listen, whispering softly to one another:
+
+"Hear the Sea Breeze and the ocean moaning on the shore. Are they lonely
+without us, I wonder?"
+
+
+
+
+The Bremen Town Musicians.
+
+BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM.
+
+     [When I was a child I used to love the story which is coming next.
+     It is very funny and I like it still.]
+
+
+There was once an ass whose master had made him carry sacks to the mill
+for many a long year, but whose strength began at last to fail, so that
+each day as it came found him less capable of work. Then his master
+began to think of turning him out, but the ass, guessing that something
+was in the wind that boded him no good, ran away, taking the road to
+Bremen; for there he thought he might get an engagement as town
+musician. When he had gone a little way he found a hound lying by the
+side of the road panting, as if he had run a long way.
+
+"Now, Holdfast, what are you so out of breath about!" said the ass.
+
+"Oh, dear!" said the dog, "now I am old, I get weaker every day, and can
+do no good in the hunt, so, as my master was going to have me killed, I
+have made my escape; but now, how am I to gain my living?"
+
+"I will tell you what," said the ass, "I am going to Bremen to become
+town musician. You may as well go with me, and take up music too. I can
+play the lute, and you can beat the drum."
+
+The dog consented, and they walked on together. It was not long before
+they came to a cat sitting in the road, looking as dismal as three wet
+days.
+
+"Now, then, what is the matter with you, old friend?" said the ass.
+
+"I should like to know who would be cheerful when his neck is in
+danger?" answered the cat. "Now that I am old, my teeth are getting
+blunt, and I would rather sit by the oven and purr than run about after
+mice, and my mistress wants to drown me; so I took myself off; but good
+advice is scarce, and I do not know what is to become of me."
+
+"Go with us to Bremen," said the ass, "and become town musician. You
+understand serenading."
+
+The cat thought well of the idea, and went with them accordingly. After
+that the three travelers passed by a yard, and a cock was perched on the
+gate crowing with all his might.
+
+"Your cries are enough to pierce bone and marrow," said the ass; "what
+is the matter?"
+
+"I have foretold good weather for Lady-day, so that all the shirts may be
+washed and dried; and now on Sunday morning company is coming, and the
+mistress has told the cook that I must be made into soup, and this
+evening my neck is to be wrung, so that I am crowing with all my might
+while I can."
+
+"You had better go with us, Chanticleer," said the ass. "We are going to
+Bremen. At any rate that will be better than dying. You have a powerful
+voice, and when we are all performing together it will have a very good
+effect."
+
+So the cock consented, and they went on, all four together.
+
+But Bremen was too far off to be reached in one day, and toward evening
+they came to a wood, where they determined to pass the night. The ass
+and the dog lay down under a large tree; the cat got up among the
+branches, and the cock flew up to the top, as that was the safest place
+for him. Before he went to sleep he looked all around him to the four
+points of the compass, and perceived in the distance a little light
+shining, and he called out to his companions that there must be a house
+not far off, as he could see a light, so the ass said:
+
+"We had better get up and go there, for these are uncomfortable
+quarters."
+
+The dog began to fancy a few bones, not quite bare, would do him good.
+And they all set off in the direction of the light, and it grew larger
+and brighter until at last it led them to a robber's house, all lighted
+up. The ass, being the biggest, went up to the window and looked in.
+
+"Well, what do you see?" asked the dog.
+
+"What do I see?" answered the ass; "here is a table set out with
+splendid eatables and drinkables, and robbers sitting at it and making
+themselves very comfortable."
+
+"That would just suit us," said the cock.
+
+"Yes, indeed, I wish we were there," said the ass. Then they consulted
+together how it should be managed so as to get the robbers out of the
+house, and at last they hit on a plan. The ass was to place his forefeet
+on the window-sill, the dog was to get on the ass' back, the cat on the
+top of the dog, and lastly the cock was to fly up and perch on the cat's
+head. When that was done, at a given signal, they all began to perform
+their music. The ass brayed, the dog barked, the cat mewed, and the cock
+crowed; then they burst through into the room, breaking all the panes of
+glass. The robbers fled at the dreadful sound; they thought it was some
+goblin, and fled to the wood in the utmost terror. Then the four
+companions sat down to the table, and made free with the remains of the
+meal, and feasted as if they had been hungry for a month. And when they
+had finished they put out the lights, and each sought out a
+sleeping-place to suit his nature and habits. The ass laid himself down
+outside on the dunghill, the dog behind the door, the cat on the hearth
+by the warm ashes, and the cock settled himself in the cockloft, and as
+they were all tired with their long journey they soon fell fast asleep.
+
+When midnight drew near, and the robbers from afar saw that no light was
+burning, and that everything appeared quiet, their captain said to them
+that he thought that they had run away without reason, telling one of
+them to go and reconnoitre. So one of them went and found everything
+quite quiet; he went into the kitchen to strike a light, and taking the
+glowing fiery eyes of the cat for burning coals, he held a match to them
+in order to kindle it. But the cat, not seeing the joke, flew into his
+face, spitting and scratching. Then he cried out in terror, and ran to
+get out at the back door, but the dog, who was lying there, ran at him
+and bit his leg; and as he was rushing through the yard by the dunghill
+the ass struck out and gave him a great kick with his hindfoot; and the
+cock, who had been awakened with the noise, and felt quite brisk, cried
+out, "Cock-a-doodle-doo!"
+
+Then the robber got back as well as he could to his captain, and said,
+"Oh dear! in that house there is a gruesome witch, and I felt her breath
+and her long nails in my face; and by the door there stands a man who
+stabbed me in the leg with a knife, and in the yard there lies a black
+spectre, who beat me with his wooden club; and above, upon the roof,
+there sits the justice, who cried, 'bring that rogue here!' And so I ran
+away from the place as fast as I could."
+
+From that time forward the robbers never returned to that house, and the
+four Bremen town musicians found themselves so well off where they were,
+that there they stayed. And the person who last related this tale is
+still living, as you see.
+
+
+
+
+A Very Queer Steed, and Some Strange Adventures.
+
+TOLD AFTER ARIOSTO BY ELIZABETH ARMSTRONG.
+
+
+An Italian poet named Ariosto, who lived before our grandfathers were
+born, has told some very funny stories, one of which I will tell you.
+Not contented with mounting his heroes on ordinary horses, he gave one
+of them a splendid winged creature to ride; a fiery steed with eyes of
+flame, and the great pinions of an eagle. This creature's name was
+Hippogrif. Let me tell you how Prince Roger caught the Hippogrif, and
+then you will want to know something about his queer journey. I may as
+well tell you that Prince Roger belonged to the Saracens, and that he
+loved a lady of France named Bradamante, also that an old enchanter had
+captured both the prince and the lady and gotten them into his power.
+They of course were planning a way of escape, and hoped to go off
+together, and be married, and live happily ever after, but this was not
+the intention of their captor. The two prisoners, who were allowed a
+good deal of liberty, were standing together one day, when Bradamante
+said to Roger:
+
+"Look! there is the old man's Hippogrif still standing quietly by us. I
+have a mind to catch him and take a ride on him, for he is mine by
+right of conquest since I have overcome his master." So she went toward
+the winged steed and stretched out her hand to take him by the bridle;
+but the Hippogrif darted up into the air, and flew a hundred yards or so
+away before he settled again upon the ground. Again and again she tried
+to catch him, but he always flew off before she could touch him, and
+then came down to earth a little distance away, where he waited for her
+to get near him again, just as you may see a butterfly flit from one
+cabbage-row to another, and always manage to keep a yard or two ahead of
+the boy who chases it. At last, however, he alighted close by the side
+of Roger, whereupon the Prince cried to his lady: "I will catch him and
+give him a ride to break him in for you;" and, seizing hold of the
+bridle in his left hand, he vaulted on to the back of the Hippogrif, who
+stood still without attempting to escape, as if to acknowledge that here
+he had found his proper master. But the Prince was no sooner fairly in
+the saddle than his strange steed shot up fifty feet straight into the
+air, and, taking the bit between his teeth, with a dozen flaps of his
+mighty wings carried his unwilling rider far away over the mountains and
+out of sight of the unfortunate Bradamante.
+
+You must know that though Roger was quite unable to hold his Hippogrif,
+and soon gave up the attempt in despair, the winged monster was really
+guided by something stronger than bit or bridle, and every motion of his
+headlong flight was controlled by the will of an invisible master. The
+whole affair, in fact, was the work of the wonderful enchanter Atlas,
+who was still persuaded that great dangers awaited his beloved Prince in
+the land of France, and determined to use all his cunning to remove him
+to a place of safety. With this design he had watched the noble lovers
+from his hiding place, and guided every movement of the Hippogrif by the
+mere muttering of spells; and by the same means he still steered the
+creature's course through the air, for he was so powerful an enchanter
+that he could make his purpose take effect from one end of the earth to
+the other. In the old days of fairy lore, enchanters were very numerous,
+and always found plenty to do.
+
+Roger had a firm seat and a heart that knew no fear, and at any other
+time would have enjoyed nothing better than such an exciting adventure;
+but now he was terribly vexed at being separated again from his beloved
+Bradamante, and at being carried away from the land where Agramant his
+King and the Emperor Charlemagne were mustering all their forces for the
+great struggle. However, there was no help for it, for the Hippogrif
+flew through the air at such a pace that he soon left the realms of
+Europe far behind him, and after a flight of a few hours he had carried
+the Prince half round the globe. Roger in fact found himself hovering
+over the Fortunate Islands, which lie in the far Eastern seas beyond the
+shores of India. Here he checked his course, and descended in wide
+circles to the earth, and at length alighted on the largest and most
+beautiful island of all the group. Green meadows and rich fields were
+here watered by clear streams; and lovely groves of palm and myrtle,
+cedar and banyan, spread their thick shade over the gentle slopes of
+hill, and offered a refuge from the heat of the mid-day sun. Birds of
+paradise flashed like jewels in the blazing light, and modest brown
+nightingales sang their sweet refrain to the conceited parrots, who sat
+admiring themselves among the branches; while under the trees hares and
+rabbits frisked merrily about, and stately stags led their graceful does
+to drink at the river banks. Upon this fertile tract, which stretched
+down to the very brink of the sea, the Hippogrif descended; and his feet
+no sooner touched the ground than Prince Roger leaped from his back, and
+made fast his bridle to the stem of a spreading myrtle-bush. Then he
+took off his helmet and cuirass, and went to bathe his face and hands in
+the cool waters of the brook; for his pulses were throbbing from his
+swift ride, and he wanted nothing so much as an hour or two of repose.
+Such rapid flying through the air is very wearying.
+
+Could he have retained his wonderful horse, there is no knowing what
+splendid adventures might have befallen him, but at a critical moment,
+the Hippogrif vanished, and Prince Roger had to fare as best he could on
+foot. After a time he met Bradamante again, he left the Saracen religion
+and became a Christian, and he and Bradamante were united in wedlock. He
+had formerly been a heathen.
+
+Bradamante had a cousin named Astulf, who finally by a series of events
+became the owner of the winged steed, and on this animal he made the
+queerest trip ever heard of, a journey to the Mountains of the Moon. The
+Hippogrif soared up and up, and up, till tall palms looked like bunches
+of fern beneath him, and he penetrated belts of thick white clouds, and
+finally drew his bridle rein on summits laid out in lovely gardens,
+where flowers and fruit abounded, and the climate was soft and balmy as
+that of June. The traveler walked through a fine grove, in the centre of
+which rose a stately palace of the purest ivory, large enough to shelter
+a nation of kings within its walls, and ornamented throughout with
+carving more exquisite than that of an Indian casket.
+
+While Astulf was gazing on this scene of splendor he was approached by
+a man of noble and courteous aspect, dressed in the toga of an ancient
+Roman, and bound about the brows with a laurel chaplet, who gave him
+grave and kindly salutation, saying: "Hail, noble Sir Duke, and marvel
+not that I know who you are, or that I expected you to-day in these
+gardens. For this is the Earthly Paradise, where poets have their
+dwelling after death; and I am the Mantuan VIRGIL, who sang the
+deeds of Æneas, and was the friend of the wise Emperor Augustus. But if
+you wish to know the reason of your coming hither, it is appointed for
+you to get back the lost wits of the peerless Count Roland, whose senses
+have been put away in the moon among the rest of the earth's missing
+rubbish. Now the mountains on the top of which we stand are called the
+Mountains of the Moon, because they are the only place from which an
+ascent to the moon is possible; and this very night I intend to guide
+you thither on your errand. But first, I pray you, take your dinner with
+us in our palace, for you have need of refreshment to prepare you for so
+strange a journey." I need hardly tell you that Astulf was delighted at
+being chosen to go to the moon on so worthy a mission, and thanked the
+noble poet a thousand times for his courtesy and kindness. But Virgil
+answered: "It is a pleasure to be of any service to such valiant
+warriors as Count Roland and yourself;" and thereupon he took the Duke
+through the shady alleys to the ivory palace which stood in the midst of
+the garden.
+
+Here was Astulf conducted with much ceremony to a refectory where a
+banquet was spread. The great doors were thrown open, and the company of
+poets ranged themselves in two rows, while their King passed down
+between their ranks. He was a majestic old man with curly beard and
+hair, and his broad forehead was furrowed with lines that betokened a
+life of noble thought; but alas! he was totally blind, and leaned upon
+the shoulder of a beautiful Greek youth who guided him. Every head was
+bowed reverently as he passed, and Virgil whispered to his guest: "That
+is HOMER, the Father and King of poets."
+
+At the end of the refectory was a dais with a table at which Homer took
+his seat, while another long table stretched down the middle of the
+hall; but Astulf saw with surprise that three places were laid on the
+upper board, though the King was apparently to sit there alone. But
+Virgil explained the reason, and said: "You must understand, Sir Duke,
+that it is our custom to lay a place for every poet who will ever ascend
+to this Earthly Paradise; and as yet there is none here worthy to sit
+beside our Father Homer. But after some five hundred and fifty years the
+seat at his left hand will be taken by the Florentine DANTE,
+who will find here the rest and happiness denied to him in his lifetime.
+The place on the right of the King, however, will remain vacant three
+hundred years more; but then it will be filled by a countryman of your
+own, and SHAKESPEARE will receive the honor due to him as the
+third great poet of the world." With these words Virgil took his seat at
+the head of the lower table, and motioned Astulf to an empty place at
+his right hand, saying: "This seat also will remain a long while vacant,
+being kept for another of your countrymen, who will come hither after
+more than a thousand years. He will be reviled and slandered in his
+lifetime; but after his death the very fools who abused him will pretend
+to admire and understand him, while here among his brethren he will be
+welcomed with joy and high honor." So Astulf sat in the seat of this
+poet to be honored in the future, and made a hearty dinner off nectar
+and ambrosia, "which are mighty fine viands," as he afterward told his
+friends at home; "but a hungry man, on the whole, would prefer good
+roast beef and a slice of plum pudding for a steady diet." Dinner being
+over, the pilgrim was led by the obliging poet to a pathway past the
+silent and lonesome River of Oblivion, where most mortal names and fames
+are forever lost, only a few being rescued from its waves and set on
+golden scrolls in the temple of Immortality.
+
+Now when they had looked on for a while at this notable sight they left
+the River Oblivion and proceeded to the Valley of Lost Lumber. It was a
+long though narrow valley shut in between two lofty mountain ridges, and
+in it were stored away all the things which men lose or waste on earth.
+Here they found an infinite number of lovers' sighs, beyond which lay
+the useless moments lost in folly and crime, and the long wasted leisure
+of ignorant and idle men. Next came the vain desires and foolish wishes
+that can never take effect, and these were heaped together in such
+quantities that they blocked up the greater part of the valley. Here,
+too, were mountains of gold and silver which foolish politicians throw
+away in bribing voters to return them to Congress; a little farther on
+was an enormous pile of garlands with steel gins concealed among their
+flowers, which Virgil explained to be flatteries; while a heap of
+grasshoppers which had burst themselves in keeping up their shrill,
+monotonous chirp, represented, he said, the dedications and addresses
+which servile authors used to write in praise of unworthy patrons. In
+the middle of the valley lay a great pool of spilt broth, and this
+signified the alms which rich men are too selfish to give away in their
+lifetime but bequeath to charities in their wills, to be paid out of
+money they can no longer use. Next Astulf came upon numbers of beautiful
+dolls from Paris, which little girls throw aside because they prefer
+their dear old bundles of rags with beads for eyes; and one of the
+biggest hillocks in all the place was formed of a pile of knives lost
+out of careless schoolboys' pockets.
+
+Now, when Astulf grew old and had boys and girls of his own, they used
+to clamber on his knee in the twilight and ask for a story, and oh! how
+they wished for the Hippogrif. Sometimes the old knight said that the
+Hippogrif was dead, but I have known people to shut their eyes and climb
+on his back, and cling to his mane, and go flying over the ocean and the
+hills clear through to the other end of the world. For Hippogrif is only
+a name for Fancy, and the Valley of Lost Lumber and the River of
+Oblivion and the Temple of Immortality exist for every one of us.
+
+
+
+
+    Freedom's Silent Host.
+
+    BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+    There are many silent sleepers
+      In our country here and there,
+    Heeding not our restless clamor,
+      Bugle's peal nor trumpet's blare.
+        Soft they slumber,
+      Past forever earthly care.
+
+    O'er their beds the grasses creeping
+      Weave a robe of royal fold,
+    And the daisies add their homage,
+      Flinging down a cloth of gold.
+        Soft they slumber,
+      Once the gallant and the bold.
+
+    Oft as Spring, with dewy fingers,
+      Brings a waft of violet,
+    Sweet arbutus, dainty primrose,
+      On their lowly graves we set.
+        Soft they slumber,
+      We their lives do not forget.
+
+    Childish hands with rose and lily
+      Showering the furrows green,
+    Childish songs that lift and warble
+      Where the sleepers lie serene
+         (Soft they slumber)
+      Tell how true our hearts have been.
+
+    Wave the dear old flag above them,
+      Play the sweet old bugle call,
+    And because they died in honor
+      O'er them let the flowerets fall.
+        Soft they slumber,
+      Dreaming, stirring not at all.
+
+    Freedom's host of silent sleepers,
+      Where they lie is holy ground,
+    Heeding not our restless clamor,
+      Musket's rattle, trumpet's sound.
+        Soft they slumber,
+      Ever wrapped in peace profound.
+
+
+
+
+Presence of Mind.
+
+BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+Such a forlorn little sunbonnet bobbing here and there among the bean
+poles in the garden back of Mr. Mason's house! It seemed as if the blue
+gingham ruffles and the deep cape must know something about the troubled
+little face they hid away, for they hung in a limp fashion that was
+enough to tell anybody who saw them just how badly the wearer of the
+sunbonnet was feeling. She had, as she thought, more than her share of
+toil and trouble in this busy world, and to-day she had a specially good
+reason to carry a heavy heart in her little breast.
+
+All Morningside was in a perfect flutter of anticipation and excitement.
+There had never been a lawn party in the little village before, and
+Effie Dean, twelve years old to-day, was to have a lawn party, to which
+every child for miles, to say nothing of a gay troop of cousins and
+friends from the city, had been invited. Everybody was going, of course.
+
+The Deans had taken for the season a beautiful old homestead, the owners
+of which were in Europe. They were having gala times there, and they
+managed to draw all the young folks of the village in to share them.
+All, indeed, except one little girl. Cynthia Mason did not expect to go
+to many festivities, but with her whole heart she longed to see what a
+lawn party might be. The very name sounded beautiful to her, and she
+said it over and over wistfully as she went slowly down the door-yard
+between the tigerlilies and the hollyhocks, through the rough gate which
+hung so clumsily on its leathern hinges, and, with her basket by her
+side, began her daily task of picking beans.
+
+Cynthia Mason had no mother. Her father loved his little daughter and
+was kind to her, but he was a silent man, who was not very successful,
+and who had lost hope when his wife had died. People said he had never
+been the same man since then. His sister, Cynthia's Aunt Kate, was an
+active, stirring woman, who liked to be busy herself and to hurry other
+people. She kept the house as clean as a new pin, had the meals ready to
+the moment, and saw that everybody's clothing was washed and mended; but
+she never felt as if she had time for the kissing and petting which is
+to some of us as needful as our daily food.
+
+In her way she was fond of Cynthia, and would have taken good care of
+the child if she had been ill or crippled. But as her niece was
+perfectly well, and not in want of salts or senna, Aunt Kate was often
+rather tried with her fondness for dreaming in the daytime, or dropping
+down to read a bit from the newspaper in the midst of the sweeping and
+dusting.
+
+There were, in truth, a good many worries in the little weather-beaten
+house, and Miss Mason had her own trouble in making both ends meet. She
+was taking summer boarders now to help along, and when Cynthia had asked
+her if she might go to Effie's party, the busy woman had been planning
+how to crowd another family from New York into the already well-filled
+abode, so she had curtly replied:
+
+"Go to a lawn party! What nonsense! Why, no child. You cannot be
+spared." And she had thought no more about it.
+
+"Step around quickly this morning, Cynthy," she called from the buttery
+window. "Beans take for ever and ever to cook, you know. I can't imagine
+what's got into the child," she said to herself. "She walks as if her
+feet were shod with lead."
+
+The blue gingham sunbonnet kept on bobbing up and down among the bean
+poles, when suddenly there was a rush and a rustle, two arms were thrown
+around Cynthia's waist, and a merry voice said:
+
+"You never heard me, did you, till I was close by? You're going to the
+party, of course, Cynthy?"
+
+"No, Lulu," was the sad answer. "There are new boarders coming, and
+Aunt Kate cannot do without me."
+
+"I never heard of such a thing!" cried eleven-year old Lulu. "Not going!
+Cannot do without you! Why, Cynthy, it will be just splendid: tennis and
+croquet and games, and supper in a _tent_! ice cream and everything
+nice, and a birthday cake with a ring, and twelve candles on it. And
+there are to be musicians out of doors, and fireworks in the evening.
+Why, there are men hanging the lanterns in the trees now--to see where
+they ought to be hung, I suppose," said practical Lulu. "Not let you go?
+I'm sure she will, if I ask her." Lulu started bravely for the house,
+intent on pleading for her friend.
+
+But Cynthia called her back. "Don't go, Lulu, dear. Aunt Kate is very
+busy this morning. She does not think I care so much, and she won't like
+it either, if she thinks I'm spending my time talking with you, when the
+beans ought to be on the fire. A bean dinner," observed Cynthia, wisely,
+"takes so long to get ready."
+
+"Does it?" said Lulu, beginning to pick with all her might. She was a
+sweet little thing, and she hated to have her friend left out of the
+good time.
+
+As for Cynthia, the sunbonnet fell back on her neck, showing a pair of
+soft eyes swimming with tears, and a sorrowful little mouth quivering
+in its determination not to cry.
+
+"I won't be a baby!" she said to herself, resolutely. Presently there
+came a sharp call from the house.
+
+"Cynthia Elizabeth! are you never coming with those beans? Make haste,
+child, do?"
+
+Aunt Kate said "Cynthia Elizabeth" only when her patience was almost
+gone; so, with a quick answer, "Yes, Aunt Kate, I'm coming," Cynthia
+left Lulu and ran back to the buttery, sitting down, as soon as she
+reached it, to the weary task of stringing the beans.
+
+Lulu, meanwhile, who was an idle little puss--her mother's
+pet--sauntered up the road and met Effie Dean's mother, who was driving
+by herself, and had stopped to gather some late wild roses.
+
+"If there isn't Lulu Pease!" she said. "Lulu dear, won't you get those
+flowers for me? Thank you so much. And you're coming this afternoon?"
+
+"Yes, 'm," said Lulu, with a dimple showing itself in each plump cheek;
+"but I'm so very sorry, Mrs. Dean, that my dearest friend, Cynthy Mason,
+has to stay at home. Her Aunt Kate can't spare her. Cynthy _never_ can
+go anywhere nor do anything like the rest of us."
+
+"Cynthia Mason? That's the pretty child with the pale face and dark
+eyes who sits in the pew near the minister's, isn't it?" said Mrs. Dean.
+"Why, she must not stay at home to-day." And acting on a sudden impulse,
+the lady said good morning to Lulu, took a brisk turn along the road and
+back, and presently drew rein at Mr. Mason's door.
+
+She came straight into the buttery, having rapped to give notice of her
+presence, and with a compliment to Miss Mason on the excellence of her
+butter, she asked whether that lady could supply her with a few more
+pounds next week; then her eyes falling on the little figure on the
+doorstep, she said: "By-the-way, Miss Mason, your niece is to be one of
+Effie's guests to-day, is she not? Can you, as a great favor, let her
+come home with me now? I have to drive to the Centre on some errands,
+and Cynthia, who is a helpful little woman, I can see, can be of so much
+use if you will part with her for the day. It will be very neighborly of
+you to say yes. I know it's a good deal to ask, but my own girls are
+very busy, and I wish you would let me keep Cynthia until to-morrow.
+I'll take good care of her, and she shall be at home early. Lend her to
+me, please?"
+
+Mrs. Dean, with much gentleness of manner, had the air of a person to
+whom nobody ever says no, and Cynthia could hardly believe she heard
+aright when her aunt said, pleasantly:
+
+"Cynthia's a good girl, but she's like all children--she needs to be
+kept at her work. She can go if you really wish it, Mrs. Dean, and I'll
+send for my cousin Jenny to stay here to-day. There are new boarders
+coming," she said, to explain her need of outside assistance. Miss Mason
+prided herself on getting through her work alone; hired help she
+couldn't afford, but she would not have had any one "under-foot," as she
+expressed it, had money been plenty with her.
+
+"You are a wonderful woman," said Mrs. Dean, surveying the spotless
+tables and walls. "You are always so brisk, and such a perfect
+housekeeper! I wish, dear Miss Mason, you could look in on us yourself
+in the evening. It will be a pretty sight."
+
+Miss Mason was gratified. "Run away, Cynthia; put on your best frock,
+and don't keep Mrs. Dean waiting," she said. In spite of her
+independence, she was rather pleased that her boarders should see the
+low phaeton at her door, the brown horse with the silver-mounted
+harness, and the dainty lady, in her delicate gray gown and driving
+gloves, chatting affably while waiting for Cynthia to dress. She offered
+Mrs. Dean a glass of her creamy milk, and it was gratefully accepted.
+
+Cynthia came back directly. Her preparations had not taken her long. Her
+"best frock" was of green delaine with yellow spots--"a perfect horror"
+the lady thought; it had been purchased at a bargain by Mr. Mason, who
+knew nothing about what was suitable for a child. Some lace was basted
+in the neck, and her one article of ornament, an old-fashioned coral
+necklace with a gold clasp, was fastened just under the lace. The stout
+country-made shoes were not becoming to the child's feet, nor was the
+rim of white stocking visible above them at all according to the present
+styles. She was pretty as a picture, but not in the least arrayed as the
+other girls would be, whether from elegant city homes or the ample farm
+houses round about.
+
+How her eyes sparkled and her color came and went when Mrs. Dean told
+her to step in and seat herself, then, following, took the reins, while
+Bonny Bess, the sagacious pony, who knew every tone of his mistress'
+voice, trotted merrily off!
+
+Having secured her little guest, Mrs. Dean thought she would give her as
+much pleasure as she could. So they took a charming drive before pony's
+head was turned to the village. The phaeton glided swiftly over smooth,
+hard roads, between rich fields of corn, over a long bridge, and at last
+rolled into Main Street, where Mrs. Dean made so many purchases that the
+vehicle was soon quite crowded with packages and bundles.
+
+"Now for home, my little one," said the lady, turning; and away they
+flew over hill and hollow till they reached the broad, wide open gates
+of the place known to everybody as Fernbrake, and skimming gaily down
+the long flower-bordered avenue, they stopped at the door of the
+beautiful house. The verandas looked inviting with their easy chairs and
+rockers, but no one was sitting there, so Cynthia followed her hostess
+shyly up the wide stairway, into a cool, airy room with white drapery at
+the windows, an upright piano standing open, and books everywhere,
+showing the taste of its occupants. Oh, those books! Cynthia's few
+story-books had been read until she knew them by heart. Though in these
+days it was seldom she was allowed to sit with a book in her hand, a
+book-loving child always manages somehow to secure a little space for
+the coveted pleasure. And here were shelves just overflowing with
+dainty, gaily covered volumes, and low cases crowded, and books lying
+about on window-seats and lounges.
+
+Mrs. Dean observed the hungry, eager gaze, and taking off the
+wide-brimmed hat with its white ribbon bow and ends, she seated the
+little girl comfortably, and put a story into her hands, telling her to
+amuse herself until Effie and Florence should come.
+
+A half-hour sped by, and then, answering the summons of a bell in the
+distance, the two daughters of the house appeared, and Cynthia was asked
+to go with them to luncheon.
+
+Mrs. Dean was a little worried about Cynthia's dress, and was revolving
+in her mind whether she might not make her look more like the other
+children by lending her for the occasion a white dress of Florrie's,
+when, to her regret, she observed that Florrie's eyes were resting very
+scornfully on the faded green delaine and the stout coarse shoes.
+
+Now if there is anything vulgar and unpardonable, it is this,
+children--that, being a hostess, you are ashamed of anything belonging
+to a guest. From the moment a guest enters your door he or she is
+sacred, and no true lady or gentlemen ever criticises, much less
+apologizes for, the dress of a visitor. Mrs. Dean was sorry to observe
+the sneer on Florrie's usually sweet face, and glancing from it to
+Cynthia's, she was struck with the contrast.
+
+Never had Cynthia in her life been seated at a table so beautiful. The
+tumblers of ruby and amber glass, the plates with their delicate fruit
+and flower decoration, every plate a picture, the bouquet in the centre
+reflected in a beautiful little round mirror, the pretty silver tubs
+filled with broken ice, the shining knives and forks, and the dainty tea
+equipage, were so charming that she felt like a princess in an enchanted
+castle. But she expressed no surprise. She behaved quietly, made no
+mistakes, used her knife and fork like a little lady, and was as
+unconscious of herself and her looks as the carnation pink is of its
+color and shape.
+
+Mrs. Dean meditated. She did not quite like to ask this child to wear a
+borrowed dress, and she felt that Florrie needed to take a lesson in
+politeness. Drawing the latter aside, she said, "My darling, I am sorry
+you should treat my little friend rudely; you have hardly spoken to
+her."
+
+"I can't help it, mamma. She isn't one of the set we go with. A little
+common thing like that! See what shoes she has on. And her hands are so
+red and coarse! They look as if she washed dishes for a living."
+
+"Something very like it is the case, I'm afraid, Florrie dear. I fear
+she has a very dull time at home. But the child is a little lady. I
+shall feel very much ashamed if she is more a lady than my own
+daughters. See, Effie has made friends with her."
+
+"And so will I," said Florrie. "Forgive me, mamma, for being so silly."
+And the three girls had a pleasant chat before the visitors came, and
+grew so confidential that Cynthia told Effie and Florrie about the one
+great shadow of her life--the mortgage which made her papa so unhappy,
+and was such a worry to poor Aunt Kate. She didn't know what it was; it
+seemed to her like some dreadful ogre always in the background ready to
+pounce on the little home. Neither Effie nor Florrie knew, but they
+agreed with her that it must be something horrid, and Effie promised to
+ask her own papa, who knew everything, all about it.
+
+"Depend upon it, Cynthia," said Effie, "if papa can do anything to help
+you, he will. There's nobody like papa in the whole world."
+
+By and by the company began to arrive, and the wide grounds were gay
+with children in dainty summer costumes and bright silken sashes.
+Musicians were stationed in an arbor, and their instruments sent forth
+tripping waltzes and polkas, and the children danced, looking like
+fairies as they floated over the velvet grass. When the beautiful old
+Virginia reel was announced, even Cynthia was led out, Mr. Dean himself,
+a grand gentleman with stately manners and a long brown beard, showing
+her the steps. Cynthia felt as if she had been dancing with the
+President. Cinderella at the ball was not less delighted, and this
+little Cinderella, too, had a misgiving now and then about to-morrow,
+when she must go home to the housework and the boarders and the
+gathering of beans for dinner. Yet that should not spoil the present
+pleasure. Cynthia had never studied philosophy, but she knew enough not
+to fret foolishly about a trouble in the future when something agreeable
+was going on now.
+
+In her mother's little well-worn Bible--one of her few
+treasures--Cynthia had seen this verse heavily underscored: "Take
+therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought
+for the things of itself." She did not know what it meant. She would
+know some day.
+
+I cannot tell you about the supper, so delicious with its flavor of all
+that was sweet and fine, and the open-air appetite the children brought
+to it.
+
+After supper came the fireworks. They were simply bewildering. Lulu, the
+staunch little friend who had gone to Cynthia's in the morning, speedily
+found her out, and was in a whirl of joy that she was there.
+
+"How did you get away?" she whispered.
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Dean came after me herself," returned Cynthia, "And Aunt Kate
+couldn't say no to _her_."
+
+Lulu gave Cynthia's hand a squeeze of sympathy.
+
+"What made you bring your mamma's shawl?" asked Cynthia, as she noticed
+that Lulu was encumbered with a plaid shawl of the heaviest woolen,
+which she kept on her arm.
+
+"Malaria," returned the child. "Mamma's _so_ afraid of it and she said
+if I felt the teentiest bit of a chill I must wrap myself up. Horrid old
+thing! I hate to lug it around with me. S'pose we sit on it, Cynthy."
+
+They arranged it on the settee, and complacently seated themselves to
+enjoy the rockets, which soared in red and violet and silvery stars to
+the sky, then fell suddenly down and went out like lamps in a puff of
+wind.
+
+Suddenly there was a stir, a shriek, a chorus of screams following it,
+from the group just around the fireworks. A pinwheel had exploded,
+sending a shower of sparks in every direction.
+
+All in a second, Florrie Dean flew past the girls, her white fluffy
+dress on fire. And quick as the fire itself, Cynthia tore after her.
+Well was it that the shabby green delaine was a woolen dress, that the
+stout shoes did not encumber the nimble feet, that the child's faculties
+were so alert. In a second she had seized the great shawl, and almost
+before any of the grown people had realized the child's peril, had
+smothered the flames by winding the thick folds over and over, round and
+round, the fleecy dress and the frightened child.
+
+Florrie was only slightly burned, but Cynthia's little hands were so
+blistered that they would neither wash dishes nor pick beans for many a
+day.
+
+Mrs. Dean bathed them in sweet oil and bandaged them from the air, then
+put Cynthia to bed on a couch in a chamber opening out of her own room.
+From time to time in the night she went to see if the dear child was
+sleeping quietly, and Mr. Dean, standing and looking at her, said, "We
+owe this little one a great debt; her presence of mind saved Florrie's
+life."
+
+Early the next morning Bonny Bess trotted up to Mr. Mason's door without
+Cynthia. Aunt Kate was feeling impatient for her return. She missed the
+willing little helper more than she had supposed possible. She had
+arranged half a dozen tasks for the day, in everyone of which she
+expected to employ Cynthia, and she felt quite disappointed when she saw
+that Mr. Dean was alone.
+
+"Another picnic for to-day, I suppose," she said to herself. "Cynthia
+may just as well learn first as last that we cannot afford to let her go
+to such junketings often."
+
+But Mr. Dean broke in upon her thoughts by saying, blandly: "Good
+morning, madam. Will you kindly tell me where to find Mr. Mason?"
+
+"He's in the south meadow," she answered, civilly, pointing in that
+direction. "I see you've not brought Cynthia home, Mr. Dean. I need her
+badly. Mrs. Dean promised to send her home early."
+
+"Mrs. Dean will call on you herself in the course of the day; and it is
+about Cynthia that I wish to consult her father, my good lady," said Mr.
+Dean, lifting his hat, as if to a queen, as he drove toward the meadow.
+
+"Well! well! well!" said Aunt Kate, feeling rather resentful, but on the
+whole rather pleased with the "good lady" and the courteously lifted
+hat. A charming manner is a wonderful magician in the way of scattering
+sunshine.
+
+The boarders, observing the little scene from the side porch, hoped that
+Cynthia's outing was to be prolonged. One and all liked the handy,
+obliging little maiden who had so much womanly work to do and so scanty
+a time for childish play.
+
+When, however, at noon, Mr. Mason came home, holding his head up proudly
+and looking five years younger, and told how brave Cynthia had been;
+when neighbor after neighbor, as the news flew over the place, stopped
+to congratulate the Masons on the possession of such a little
+heroine--Miss Mason was at first puzzled, then triumphant.
+
+"You see what there is in bringing up," she averred. "I've never spoiled
+Cynthy: I've trained her to be thoughtful and quick, and this is the
+result."
+
+When Mrs. Dean first proposed that Cynthia should spend the rest of the
+summer at Fernbrake, sharing the lessons and play with her own girls,
+Aunt Kate opposed the idea. She did not know how one pair of hands and
+feet was to do all that was to be done in that house. Was she to send
+the boarders away, or how did her brother think she could get along.
+
+Mr. Mason said he could afford to hire help for his sister if she wished
+it, and in any event he meant that Cynthia after this should go to
+school and study; for "thanks to her and to God"--he spoke
+reverently--"the mortgage was paid." Mr. Dean had taken that burden away
+because of Florrie's life which Cynthia had saved.
+
+Under the new conditions Cynthia grew very lovely in face as well as in
+disposition. It came to pass that she spent fully half her time with the
+Deans; had all the books to read that she wanted, and saw her father and
+Aunt Kate so happy that she forgot the old days of worry and care, when
+she had sometimes felt lonely, and thought that they were cross. Half
+the crossness in the world comes from sorrow and anxiety, and so
+children should bear with tired grown people patiently.
+
+As for Lulu, she never ceased to be glad that her mamma's terror of
+malaria had obliged her to carry a great shawl to Effie's lawn party.
+Privately, too, she was glad that the shawl was so scorched that she
+never was asked to wear it anywhere again.
+
+
+
+
+The Boy Who Went from the Sheepfold to the Throne.
+
+BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+A great many years ago in the morning of the world there was a boy who
+began by taking care of flocks, and ended by ruling a nation. He was the
+youngest of a large family and his older brothers did not respect him
+very much nor think much of his opinion, though they were no doubt fond
+of the ruddy, round-faced little fellow, and proud of his great courage
+and of his remarkable skill in music. For the boy did not know what fear
+was, and once when he was alone in the high hill pasture taking care of
+the ewes and the lambs, there came prowling along a lion of the desert,
+with his soft padding steps, intent on carrying off a sheep for Madam
+Lioness and her cubs. The boy did not run, not he; but took the lamb out
+of the lion's mouth, seized the creature by the beard and slew him, and
+thus defended the huddling, frightened flock from that peril. He served
+the next enemy a big, blundering old bear, in the same way. When there
+were no wild beasts creeping up to the rim of the fire he made near his
+little tent, the lad would amuse himself by playing on the flute, or
+the jewsharp he carried; and at home, when the father and sons were
+gathered around in silence, he used to play upon his larger harp so
+sweetly that all bad thoughts fled, and everybody was glad and at peace
+with the world.
+
+One day an aged man with snowy hair and a look of great dignity and
+presence came to the boy's father's house. He proved to be a great
+prophet named Samuel, and he was received with much honor. In the course
+of his visit he asked to see the entire family, and one by one the tall
+and beautiful sons were presented to him until he had seen seven young
+men.
+
+"Is this all your household? Have you not another son?" he inquired.
+
+"Yes," said Jesse the Bethlehemite, who by the way was a grandson of
+that beautiful maiden, Ruth, who came out of Moab with Naomi, "yes, I
+have still a son, but he is only a youth, out in the fields; you would
+not wish to see _him_." But this was a mistake.
+
+"Pray, send for him," answered the prophet.
+
+Then David, for this was his name, came in, modest yet eager, with his
+pleasant face and his dark kindling eyes. And the prophet said, "This is
+the Lord's anointed," and then in a ceremony which the simple family
+seem not to have quite understood, he set the boy apart by prayer and
+blessing, poured the fragrant oil of consecration on his head, and said
+in effect that in days to come he would be the King of Israel.
+
+David went back to his fields and his sheep and for a long while nothing
+happened.
+
+But there arose against Israel in due time a nation of warlike people,
+called "The Philistines." Nearly all the strong young men of the country
+went out to fight against these invaders, and among them went the sons
+of old Jesse. Nobody stayed at home except the old men, the women and
+the younger boys and little ones. The whole country was turned into a
+moving camp, and there arrived a time before long when Israel and the
+Philistines each on a rolling hill, with a valley between them, set
+their battle in array.
+
+I once supposed that battles were fought on open plains, with soldiers
+confronting one another in plain sight, as we set out toy regiments of
+wooden warriors to fight for children's amusement. But since then, in my
+later years, I have seen the old battlefields of our Civil War and I
+know better. Soldiers fight behind trees and barns and fences, and in
+the shelter of hedges and ditches, and a timbered mountain side makes a
+fine place for a battle ground.
+
+Now I will quote a passage or two from a certain old book, which tells
+this part of the story in much finer style than I can. The old book is a
+familiar one, and is full of splendid stories for all the year round. I
+wish the young people who read this holiday book would make a point
+hereafter of looking every day in that treasure-house, the Bible.
+
+     And there went out a champion out of the camp of the Philistines,
+     named Goliath, of Gath, whose height was six cubits and a span.
+
+     And he had a helmet of brass upon his head, and he was armed with a
+     coat of mail; and the weight of the coat was five thousand shekels
+     of brass.
+
+     And he had greaves of brass upon his legs, and a target of brass
+     between his shoulders.
+
+     And the staff of his spear was like a weaver's beam; and his
+     spear's head weighed six hundred shekels of iron: and one bearing a
+     shield went before him.
+
+     And he stood and cried unto the armies of Israel, and said unto
+     them, Why are ye come out to set your battle in array? am not I a
+     Philistine, and ye servants to Saul? choose you a man for you, and
+     let him come down to me.
+
+     If he be able to fight with me, and to kill me, then will we be
+     your servants: but if I prevail against him, and kill him, then
+     shall ye be our servants, and serve us.
+
+     And the Philistine said, I defy the armies of Israel this day; give
+     me a man, that we may fight together.
+
+     When Saul and all Israel heard those words of the Philistine, they
+     were dismayed, and greatly afraid.
+
+     Now David was the son of that Ephrathite of Bethlehem-judah, whose
+     name was Jesse; and he had eight sons: and the man went among men
+     for an old man in the days of Saul.
+
+     And the three eldest sons of Jesse went and followed Saul to the
+     battle: and the names of his three sons that went to the battle
+     were Eliab the first-born, and next unto him Abinadab, and the
+     third Shammah.
+
+     And David was the youngest: and the three eldest followed Saul.
+
+     But David went and returned from Saul to feed his father's sheep at
+     Beth-lehem.
+
+     And the Philistine drew near morning and evening, and presented
+     himself forty days.
+
+     And Jesse said unto David his son, Take now for thy brethren an
+     ephah of this parched corn, and these ten loaves, and run to the
+     camp to thy brethren;
+
+     And carry these ten cheeses unto the captain of their thousand, and
+     look how thy brethren fare, and take their pledge.
+
+     Now Saul, and they, and all the men of Israel, were in the valley
+     of Elah, fighting with the Philistines.
+
+     And David rose up early in the morning, and left the sheep with a
+     keeper, and took, and went, as Jesse had commanded him; and he came
+     to the trench, as the host was going forth to the fight, and
+     shouted for the battle.
+
+     For Israel and the Philistines had put the battle in array, army
+     against army.
+
+     And David left his carriage in the hand of the keeper of the
+     carriage, and ran into the army, and came and saluted his brethren.
+
+     And as he talked with them, behold, there came up the champion, the
+     Philistine of Gath, Goliath by name, out of the armies of the
+     Philistines, and spake according to the same words: and David heard
+     them.
+
+     And all the men of Israel, when they saw the man, fled from him,
+     and were sore afraid.
+
+     And the men of Israel said, Have ye seen this man that is come up?
+     surely to defy Israel is he come up: and it shall be, that the man
+     who killeth him, the king will enrich him with great riches, and
+     will give him his daughter, and make his father's house free in
+     Israel.
+
+     And David spake to the men that stood by him saying, What shall be
+     done to the man that killeth this Philistine, and taketh away the
+     reproach from Israel? for who is this uncircumcised Philistine,
+     that he should defy the armies of the living God?
+
+By "carriage" is meant luggage, the things David had brought for his
+brothers, not a conveyance as in our modern sense.
+
+The brothers were angry when they found David putting himself forward,
+in a way which they thought absurd, but their taunts did not deter him
+from presenting himself to King Saul, who was pleased with the gallant
+boy, and proposed to arm him with his own armor, a coat of mail, greaves
+of brass and the like. But "no," said David, "I would feel clumsy and
+awkward in your accoutrements, I will meet the giant with my shepherd's
+sling and stone, in the name of the Lord God of Israel whom he has
+defied."
+
+The giant came blustering out with a tread that shook the ground. When
+he saw his little antagonist he was vexed, for this seemed to him no
+foeman worthy of his spear. But when the conflict was really on, lo! the
+unerring eye and hand of David sent his pebble from the brook straight
+into the giant's head, and the victory was with Israel.
+
+And after that, David went to the palace and played sweetly on the harp
+to charm and soothe the madness of King Saul, on whom there came by
+spells a fierce and terrible malady. He formed a close friendship with
+Jonathan, the king's son, a friendship which has passed into a proverb,
+so tender it was and so true. After a while he married the king's
+daughter. He had a great many wonderful adventures and strange
+experiences, and in time he became king himself, as the Lord by his
+prophet Samuel had foretold and chosen him to be.
+
+But better than all, David's deeds of valor and the great fame he had
+among the nations, which abides to this day, was, in my mind, the fact
+that he wrote many of the psalms which we use in our public worship,
+this, the twenty-third, is one of the very sweetest of them all:
+
+     The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
+
+     He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside
+     the still waters.
+
+     He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness
+     for his name's sake.
+
+     Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I
+     will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they
+     comfort me.
+
+     Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
+     thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
+
+     Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
+     and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
+
+You must not think that David's life was ever an easy one. He always
+had hard battles to fight. Once, for quite a long period, he was an
+outlaw, much like Robin Hood of a later day, and with a band of brave
+young men he lived in the woods and the mountains, defending the
+property of his friends from other outlaws, and sometimes perhaps making
+forays against his foes, sweeping off their cattle and burning their
+tents and houses. Those were wild and exciting days, when the battle was
+for the strongest to win, and when many things were done of which in our
+modern times we cannot wholly approve. The thing about David which
+pleases me most is that he had a rare quality called magnanimity; he did
+not take a mean advantage of an enemy, and when, as occasionally it must
+be owned, he did commit a great sin, his repentance was deep and
+sincere. He lived in so much communion with God, that God spoke of him
+always as his servant, and he has been called, to distinguish him from
+other heroes in the Bible gallery, "The man after God's own heart."
+Whatever duties or trials came to David, they were met in a spirit of
+simple trust in the Lord, and with a child-like dependence on God's
+will.
+
+David had many children, some very good and some very bad. His son
+Absalom was renowned for his beauty and for his wickedness, while
+Solomon became famous, and so continues to this day as the wisest among
+men, a man rich, far-sighted and exalted, who reigned long in Jerusalem
+after the death of David, his father, who passed away in a good old age.
+Wonderful lives are these to read and to think of, full of meaning for
+every one of us. And many, many years after both these men and their
+successors were gone there came to our earth, One born of a Virgin, who
+traced His mortal lineage back to David of Bethlehem, and who brought
+goodwill and peace to men. Even Christ our Blessed Lord.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Holiday Stories for Young People, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOLIDAY STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE ***
+
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+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Holiday Stories for young people, compiled and edited by
+      by MARGARET E SANGSTER.
+    </title>
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Holiday Stories for Young People, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Holiday Stories for Young People
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Margaret E. Sangster
+
+Release Date: September 4, 2005 [EBook #16648]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOLIDAY STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Janet Blenkinship
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<p><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a></p>
+<h1>Holiday Stories</h1>
+
+<h4>FOR</h4>
+
+<h2>YOUNG PEOPLE.</h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/illus-001.png" alt="Title Illustration" title="Title Illustration" /></div>
+
+<h5>Compiled and Edited by</h5>
+
+<h3>MARGARET E. SANGSTER.</h3>
+
+
+<p class='center'>PUBLISHED BY</p>
+<p class='center'>THE CHRISTIAN HERALD</p>
+<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Louis Klopsch</span>, Proprietor,</p>
+<p class='center'>BIBLE HOUSE, NEW YORK.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a></p>
+
+
+<p class='center'>Copyright, 1896, <span class="smcap">By Louis Klopsch</span>.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a></p>
+<h3>DEDICATION.</h3>
+
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="DEDICATION">
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">To John and Jane, to Fred and Frank,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">To Theodore and Mary,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">To Willie and to Reginald,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">To Louis, Sue and Gary;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">To sturdy boys and merry girls,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">And all the dear young people</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who live in towns, or live on farms,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or dwell near spire or steeple;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">To boys who work, and boys who play,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Eager, alert and ready,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">To girls who meet each happy day</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">With faces sweet and steady;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">To dearest comrades, one and all,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">To Harry, Florrie, Kate,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">To children small, and children tall,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">This book I dedicate.</span></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4"></a></p><p><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Boys and girls, I am proud to call a host of you my personal friends,
+and I dearly love you all. It has been a great pleasure to me to arrange
+this gift book for you, and I hope you will like the stories and
+ballads, and spend many happy hours over them. One story, "The Middle
+Daughter," was originally published in Harper's "Round Table," and is
+inserted here by consent of Messrs. Harper and Brothers. Two of the
+ballads, "Horatius," and "The Pied Piper," belong to literature, and you
+cannot afford not to know them, and some of the fairy stories are like
+bits of golden coin, worth treasuring up and reading often. Miss Mary
+Joanna Porter deserves the thanks of the boys for the aid she has given
+in the making of this volume, and the bright stories she has contributed
+to its pages.</p>
+
+<p>A merry time to you, boys and girls, and a heart full of love from your
+steadfast friend,</p>
+
+<p class='author'>M.E.S.<br /><br /></p>
+
+<h2>Holiday Stories for Young People<br /><br /></h2>
+
+<h3>CONTENTS.<a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a></h3>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="TABLE OF CONTENTS">
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#PREFACE">PREFACE.</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#The_Clover_Leaf_Club_of_Bloomingdale">The Clover Leaf Club of Bloomingdale.&mdash;By M.E. Sangster</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.&mdash;THE HEROINE PRESENTS HERSELF.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.&mdash;COMPANY TO TEA AND SOME RECEIPTS.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.&mdash;A FAIR WHITE LOAF.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.&mdash;HOW TO SWEEP.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.&mdash;A LITTLE OF EVERYTHING.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.&mdash;A CANDY PULL.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.&mdash;KEEPING ACCOUNTS.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.&mdash;WE GIVE A RECEPTION.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#The_Lighthouse_Lamp">The Lighthouse Lamp.&mdash;By M.E. Sangster.</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#The_Family_Mail-bag">The Family Mail-bag.&mdash;By Mary Joanna Porter</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_Days_Fishing">A Day's Fishing.&mdash;By Mary Joanna Porter</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Why_Charlie_Didnt_Go">Why Charlie Didn't Go.&mdash;By Mary Joanna Porter</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Uncle_Giles_Paint_Brush">Uncle Giles' Paint Brush.&mdash;By Mary Joanna Porter</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#The_Pied_Piper_of_Hamelin">The Pied Piper of Hamelin.&mdash;By Robert Browning</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_Girl_Graduate">A Girl Graduate.&mdash;By Cynthia Barnard</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_Christmas_Frolic">A Christmas Frolic.&mdash;By M.E. Sangster</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Archies_Vacation">Archie's Vacation.&mdash;By Mary Joanna Porter</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_Birthday_Story">A Birthday Story.&mdash;By M.E. Sangster</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_Coquette">A Coquette.&mdash;By Amy Pierce</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Horatius1">Horatius.&mdash;By T.B. Macaulay</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_Bit_of_Brightness">A Bit of Brightness.&mdash;By Mary Joanna Porter</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#How_Sammy_Earned_the_Prize">How Sammy Earned the Prize.&mdash;By M.E. Sangster</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#The_Glorious_Fourth">The Glorious Fourth.</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#The_Middle_Daughter">The Middle Daughter.&mdash;By M.E. Sangster</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IA">CHAPTER I.&mdash;AT THE MANSE.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IIA">CHAPTER II.&mdash;AT WISHING-BRAE.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IIIA">CHAPTER III.&mdash;GRACE TAKES A HAND.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IVA">CHAPTER IV.&mdash;TWO LITTLE SCHOOLMARMS.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VA">CHAPTER V.&mdash;CEMENTS AND RIVETS.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIA">CHAPTER VI.&mdash;THE TOWER ROOM.</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#The_Golden_Bird2">The Golden Bird.&mdash;By the Brothers Grimm</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Harry_Pembertons_Text">Harry Pemberton's Text.&mdash;By Elizabeth Armstrong</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Our_Cats">Our Cats.</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Outovplace">Outovplace.</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#The_Boy_Who_Dared_to_Be_a_Daniel">The Boy Who Dared to Be a Daniel.&mdash;By S. Jennie Smith</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Little_Redcap3">Little Redcap.&mdash;By the Brothers Grimm</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#New_Zealand_Children">New Zealand Children.</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#The_Breeze_from_the_Peak">The Breeze from the Peak.</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#The_Bremen_Town_Musicians">The Bremen Town Musicians.&mdash;By the Brothers Grimm</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#A_Very_Queer_Steed_and_Some_Strange_Adventures">A Very Queer Steed, and Some Strange Adventures.&mdash;Told after Ariosto, by Elizabeth Armstrong</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Freedoms_Silent_Host">Freedom's Silent Host.By M.E. Sangster</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#Presence_of_Mind">Presence of Mind.By M.E. Sangster</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><a href="#The_Boy_Who_Went_from_the_Sheepfold_to_the_Throne">The Boy Who Went from the Sheepfold to the Throne.&mdash;By M.E. Sangster</a><br /><br /></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+<p><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="The_Clover_Leaf_Club_of_Bloomingdale" id="The_Clover_Leaf_Club_of_Bloomingdale"></a>The Clover Leaf Club of Bloomingdale.<br /></h2>
+
+<h4>BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.<br /><br /></h4>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE HEROINE PRESENTS HERSELF.</h4>
+
+
+<p>My name is Milly Van Doren, and I am an only child. I won't begin by
+telling you how tall I am, how much I weigh, and the color of my eyes
+and hair, for you would not know very much more about my looks after
+such an inventory than you do without it, and mother says that in her
+opinion it is pleasantest to form one's own idea of a girl in a story
+book. Mother says, too, that a good rule in stories is to leave out
+introductions, and so I will follow her advice and plunge into the
+middle of my first morning. It was early summer and very lovely, and I
+was feeling half-sad and half-glad, with the gladness surpassing the
+sadness, because I had never before been half so proud and important.</p>
+
+<p>Father and mother, after talking and planning and hesitating over it a
+long while, were actually going on a journey just by <a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a>themselves and
+without me; and I, being now considered old enough and steady enough,
+was to stay at home, keep house, and take care of dear grandmamma. With
+Aunt Hetty at the helm, the good old servant, whose black face had
+beamed over my cradle fifteen years ago, and whose strong arms had come
+between mother and every roughness during her twenty years of
+housekeeping, it really looked as if I might be trusted, and as if
+mother need not give me so many anxious directions. Did mother think me
+a baby? I wondered resentfully. Father always reads my face like an open
+page.</p>
+
+<p>"Thee may leave something to Milly's discretion, dear," he said, in his
+slow, stately way.</p>
+
+<p>"Thee forgets her inexperience, love," said my gentle mother.</p>
+
+<p>Father and mother are always courtly and tender with one another, never
+hasty of speech, never impatient. They have been lovers, and then they
+are gentlefolk. Father waited, and mother kept on telling me about
+grandmamma and the cat, the birds and the best china, the fire on the
+hearth in cool evenings, and the last year's canned fruit, which might
+as well be used up while she was away, particularly the cherries and
+plums.</p>
+
+<p>"May the girls come over often?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Whenever you like," said mother. "Invite whom you please, of course."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a>Here father held up his watch warningly. It was time to go, if they
+were to catch the train. Arm in arm they walked down the long avenue to
+the gate, after bidding me good-bye. Grandmamma watched them, waving her
+handkerchief from the window of her room over the porch, and at the last
+moment I rushed after them for a final kiss and hug.</p>
+
+<p>"Be good, dear child, and let who will be clever," said father, with a
+twinkle in his eye.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't forget to count the silver every morning," said mother.</p>
+
+<p>And so my term of office began. Bloomdale never wore a brighter face
+than during that long vacation&mdash;a vacation which extended from June till
+October. We girls had studied very diligently all winter. In spring
+there had been scarlet fever in the village, and our little
+housekeepers, for one cause or another, had seldom held meetings; and
+some of the mothers and older sisters declared that it was just what
+they had expected, our ardor had cooled, and nothing was coming of our
+club after all that had been said when we organized.</p>
+
+<p>As president of the Bloomdale Clover Leaf Club I determined that the
+club should now make up for lost time, and having <i>carte-blanche</i> from
+mother, as I supposed, I thought I would set about work at once.<a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a>
+Cooking was our most important work, and there's no fun in cooking
+unless eating is to follow; so the club should be social, and give
+luncheons, teas and picnics, at which we might have perfectly lovely
+times. I saw no reason for delay, and with my usual impulsiveness,
+consulted nobody about my first step.</p>
+
+<p>And thus I made mistake number one. Cooking and housekeeping always look
+perfectly easy on paper. When you come to taking hold of them in real
+earnest with your own hands you find them very different and much
+harder.</p>
+
+<p>Soon after I heard the train whistle, and knew that father and mother
+were fairly gone, I harnessed old Fan to the phaeton, and set out to
+visit every one of the girls with an invitation to tea the very next
+evening. I did put my head into grandmamma's chamber to tell her what I
+thought of doing, but the dear old lady was asleep in her easy-chair,
+her knitting lying in her lap, and I knew she did not wish to be
+disturbed. I closed the door softly and flew down stairs.</p>
+
+<p>Just as I was ready to start, Aunt Hetty came to the kitchen door,
+calling me, persuasively: "Miss Milly, honey, what yo' done mean to hab
+for dinner?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, anything you please, aunty," I called back, gathering up the reins,
+chirping to Fan, and taking the road to the Curtis <a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a>girls' house.
+Certainly I had no time to spend consulting with Aunt Hetty.</p>
+
+<p>Mother knew me better than father did. I found out later that this
+wasn't at all a proper way to keep house, giving no orders, and leaving
+things to the discretion, of the cook. But I hadn't really begun yet,
+and I was wild to get the girls together.</p>
+
+<p>Bloomdale is a sort of scattered up-hill and down-dale place, with one
+long and broad street running through the centre of the village, and
+houses standing far apart from each other, and well back from the
+pavement in the middle of the green lawns, swept into shadow by grand
+old trees. The Bloomdale people are proud of the town, and keep the
+gardens beautiful with flowers and free from weeds. Life in Bloomdale
+would be perfectly delightful, all the grown-up people say, if it were
+not for the everlasting trouble about servants, who are forever changing
+their places and going away, and complaining that the town is dull, and
+their church too distant, and life inconvenient; and so every one envies
+my mother, who has kept Hetty all these years, and never had any trouble
+at all.</p>
+
+<p>At least I fancied that to be so, till I was a housekeeper myself, and
+found out that Aunt Hetty had spells of temper and must be humored, and
+was not perfect, any more <a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a>than other people vastly above her in station
+and beyond her in advantages.</p>
+
+<p>I stopped for Linda Curtis, and she jumped into the phaeton and went
+with me. We asked Jeanie Cartwright, Veva Fay, Lois Partridge, Amy
+Pierce and Marjorie Downing to tea the next day, and every girl of them
+promised to come bright and early.</p>
+
+<p>When I reached home I ran to grandmamma to ask her if I had done right,
+and to get her advice about what I would better have for my bill of
+fare.</p>
+
+<p>"Thee is too precipitate, dear child," said grandmamma. "Why not have
+waited two or three days before having a company tea? I fear much that
+Hetty will be contrary, and not help as she ought. And I have one of my
+headaches coming."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, grandmamma!" I exclaimed. "Have you taken your pills?" I was
+aghast.</p>
+
+<p>"Thee needn't worry, dear," replied grandmamma, quite unruffled. "I have
+taken them, and if the headache does not vanish before dark, I'll sleep
+in the south chamber to-night, and be out of the way of the stir
+to-morrow. I wish, though, Aunt Hetty were not in a cross fit."</p>
+
+<p>"It is shameful," I said. "Aunt Hetty has been here so long that she
+does not know her place. I shall not be disturbed by her moods."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a>So, holding my head high, I put on my most dignified manner and went to
+the kitchen. Aunt Hetty, in a blue gingham gown, with a gay kerchief
+tied on her head, was slowly and pensively rocking herself back and
+forth in her low chair. She took no notice of me whatever.</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Hetty!"</p>
+
+<p>No answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Hetty!" This time I spoke louder.</p>
+
+<p>Still she rocked back and forth, apparently as deaf as a post. I grew
+desperate, and, going up to her, put my hand on her shoulder, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Aunt Hetty</i>, aren't we to have our dinner? The fire seems to be out."</p>
+
+<p>She shook off my hand and slowly rose, looking glum and preoccupied.</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't hear no orders for dinner, Miss Alice."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Aunt Hetty," I remonstrated, "why will you be so horrid? You know
+I am the housekeeper when mother is away, and you're going to spoil
+everything, and make her wish she hadn't gone. <i>How</i> can I manage if you
+won't help? Come, be good," I pleaded.</p>
+
+<p>But nothing moved her from her stony indifference, and I went back to
+grandmamma in despair. I was about to pour all my woes in her ear, but a
+glance at her pale face restrained me.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a>She was going to have a regular Van Doren headache.</p>
+
+<p>"We never have headaches like other people."</p>
+
+<p>How many times I have heard my aunts and uncles say this in just these
+words! They do not think me half a Van Doren because, owing to my
+mother's way of bringing me up, I have escaped the family infliction. In
+fact, I am half a Neilson, and the Neilsons are a healthy everyday set,
+who do not have aches and pains, and are seldom troubled with nerves.
+Plebeian, perhaps, but very comfortable.</p>
+
+<p>I rushed back to the den of Aunt Hetty, as I now styled the kitchen. She
+was pacing back and forth like a lioness in a cage at a show, singing an
+old plantation melody. That was a sign that her fit of temper was worse
+than ever. Little I cared.</p>
+
+<p>"Hetty Van Doren," I said, "stop sulking and singing! There isn't time
+for either. Poor grandmamma has a fearful headache, and you and I will
+have to take care of her. Put some water on to boil, and then come up to
+her room and help me. And don't sing 'Go down, Moses,' another minute."</p>
+
+<p>I had used two arguments which were powerful with Aunt Hetty. One was
+calling her Hetty Van Doren. She liked to be considered as belonging to
+the family, and no compliment could have pleased her more.<a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a> She often
+said she belonged to the Kentucky <i>noblesse</i>, and held herself far above
+common trash.</p>
+
+<p>The other was my saying you and I. She was vexed that mother had left
+me&mdash;a baby, in her opinion&mdash;to look after the house, and rather resented
+my assuming to be the mistress. By my happy form of speech I pleased the
+droll old woman, who was much like a child herself. Then, too, she was
+as well aware as I was that grandmamma's pain would grow worse and worse
+every hour until it was relieved.</p>
+
+<p>It was surprising how quickly aunty moved when she chose. She had a fire
+made and the kettle on to boil in five minutes; and, almost before I
+knew it, she had set cold chicken, and nice bread and butter and a great
+goblet of creamy milk on the table for me.</p>
+
+<p>"There, honey," she said, "don't mind dis hateful ole woman. Eat your
+luncheon, while I go up and help ole miss to bed."</p>
+
+<p>A hot-water bag for her feet, warm bandages laid on her head, some
+soothing medicine which she always took, and Hetty and I at last left
+grandmamma more comfortable than we found her. It was funny, as I
+thought of it afterward. In one of her worst paroxysms the dear lady
+gasped, a word at a time:</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a>"Aunt&mdash;Hetty,&mdash;Miss&mdash;Milly&mdash;has&mdash;asked&mdash;friends&mdash;to&mdash;tea&mdash;to-morrow.
+Put&mdash;some&mdash;ham&mdash;and&mdash;tongue&mdash;on&mdash;to&mdash;boil&mdash;directly!"</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Hetty looked as if she thought grandmamma must be raving. I nodded
+that it was all right, and up went the two black hands in expostulation
+and amazement.</p>
+
+<p>But a while later a savory smell of boiling ham came appetizingly wafted
+up the stairs. I drew a free breath. I knew the girls would at least
+have something to eat, and my hospitality would not be shamed.</p>
+
+<p>So toward evening I made grandmamma a cup of tea. It is not every one
+who knows how to make tea. The water must boil and bubble up. It isn't
+fully boiling when the steam begins to rise from the spout, but if you
+will wait five minutes after that it will be just right for use. Pour a
+very little into the teapot, rinse it, and pour the water out, and then
+put in your tea. No rule is better than the old one of a teaspoonful for
+every cup, and an extra one for the pot. Let this stand five minutes
+where it will not boil, and it will be done. Good tea must be steeped
+not boiled. Mother's way is to make hers on the table. I have been
+drilled over and over in tea making, and am skillful.</p>
+
+<p>I made some dainty slices of toast in this way: I cut off the crust and
+put it aside <a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a>for a pudding, and as the oven was hot, I placed the bread
+in a pan, and let it lean against the edge in a slanting position. When
+it was a pale golden brown I took it out, and carried it to grandmamma.
+The object of toasting bread is to get the moisture out of it. This is
+more evenly done in the oven than over the fire. Toast should not be
+burned on one side and raw on the other; it should be crisp and delicate
+all through.</p>
+
+<p>My tea and toast were delicious, and tasted all the better for being
+arranged in the prettiest china we had and on our daintiest salver.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning grandmamma was better, and I had my hands full.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+<h4>COMPANY TO TEA, AND SOME RECEIPTS.</h4>
+
+
+<p>You remember that grandmamma in the very middle of her headache gave
+orders about boiling the ham and the tongue.</p>
+
+<p>We made a rule after that, and Veva, who was secretary, wrote it in the
+club's book: "Always begin getting ready for company the day before."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a>I had not noticed it then, but it is mother's way, and it saves a great
+deal of confusion. If everything is left for the day on which the
+company is expected, the girl who is hostess will be much too tired to
+enjoy her friends. She ought to have nothing on her mind which can worry
+her or keep her from entering into their pleasure. A hurried, worried
+hostess makes her guests feel somehow in a false position.</p>
+
+<p>Our house was, fortunately, in excellent order, so I had nothing to do
+except, in the morning, to set the table prettily, to dust the parlors,
+to put fresh flowers in the vases, and give a dainty finishing touch
+here and there to the rooms. There were plenty of pleasant things to do.
+I meant to have tea over early, and then some of the club's brothers
+would be sure to come in, and we could play tennis on our ground, and
+perhaps have a game of croquet. Then, when it was too dark for that sort
+of amusement, we could gather on the veranda or in the library, and have
+games there&mdash;Dumb Crambo and Proverbs, until the time came for the girls
+to go home.</p>
+
+<p>First, however, the eating part of the entertainment had to be thought
+of.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Hetty was in a wonderful good humor, and helped with all her might,
+so that my preparations went on very successfully. Grandmamma felt so
+much better that I <a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a>asked her advice, and this was the bill of fare
+which she proposed:</p>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="MENU">
+<tr><td align='left'>Ham Sandwiches.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Cold Sliced Tongue.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Quick Biscuits.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Apple-Sauce.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Strawberries and Cream.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Tapioca Blanc-Mange.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Cup-Cake.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Cookies.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>Cocoa.</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<p>The ham, having been boiled till tender the afternoon before, was
+chopped very fine, a tiny dash of mustard added to it, and then it was
+spread smoothly between two pieces of the thinnest possible
+bread-and-butter. Around each of the sandwiches, when finished, I tied a
+very narrow blue ribbon. The effect was pretty.</p>
+
+<p>The tongue was sliced evenly, and arranged on a plate with tender leaves
+of lettuce around its edge.</p>
+
+<p>The biscuits I made myself. Mother taught me how. First I took a quart
+of flour, and dropped into it two teaspoonfuls of our favorite
+baking-powder. This I sifted twice, so that the powder and flour were
+thoroughly blended. Mother says that cakes and biscuits and all kinds of
+pastry are nicer and lighter if the flour is sifted twice, or even three
+times. I added now a tablespoonful of lard and a half teaspoonful of
+salt, and mixed the biscuit with milk. The rule is to handle as little
+as possible, and have the dough very soft. Roll into a mass an inch
+thick, and cut the little cakes apart <a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a>with a tin biscuit-cutter. They
+must be baked in a very hot oven.</p>
+
+<p>No little housekeeper need expect to have perfect biscuits the first
+time she makes them. It is very much like playing the piano. One needs
+practice. But after she has followed this receipt a half dozen times,
+she will know exactly how much milk she will require for her dough, and
+she will have no difficulty in handling the soft mass. A dust of flour
+over the hands will prevent it from sticking to them.</p>
+
+<p>Mother always insists that a good cook should get all her materials
+together before she begins her work.</p>
+
+<p>The way is to think in the first place of every ingredient and utensil
+needed, then to set the sugar, flour, spice, salt, lard, butter, milk,
+eggs, cream, molasses, flavoring, sieves, spoons, egg-beaters, cups,
+strainers, rolling-pins, and pans, in a convenient spot, so that you do
+not have to stop at some important step in the process, while you go to
+hunt for a necessary thing which has disappeared or been forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>Mother has often told me of a funny time she had when she was quite a
+young housekeeper, afflicted with a borrowing neighbor. This lady seldom
+had anything of her own at hand when it was wanted, so she depended upon
+the obliging disposition of her friends.</p>
+
+<p>One day my mother put on her large <a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a>housekeeping apron and stepped
+across the yard to her outdoor kitchen. The kitchens in Kentucky were
+never a part of the house, but always at a little distance from it, in a
+separate building.</p>
+
+<p>"Aunt Phyllis," said my mother to the cook, who was browning coffee
+grains in a skillet over the fire, "I thought I told you that I was
+coming here to make pound cake and cream pies this morning. Why is
+nothing ready?"</p>
+
+<p>"La, me, Miss Emmeline!" replied Aunt Phyllis. "Miss 'Tilda Jenkins done
+carried off every pie pan and rolling-pin and pastry-board, and borrowed
+all de eggs and cream fo' herself. Her bakin' isn't mo'n begun."</p>
+
+<p>This was a high-handed proceeding, but nothing could be done in the
+case. It was Mrs. Jenkins' habit, and mother had always been so amiable
+about it that the servants, who were easygoing, never troubled
+themselves to ask the mistress, but lent the inconvenient borrower
+whatever she desired.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes just as we were going to church, I was too little at the time
+to remember, mother said that a small black boy with very white teeth
+and a very woolly head, would pop up at her chamber door, exclaiming,</p>
+
+<p>"Howdy, Miss Emmeline. Miss 'Tilda <a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a>done sent me to borrow yo'
+Prayer-book. She goin' to church to-day herself."</p>
+
+<p>Or, of a summer evening, her maid would appear with a modest request for
+Miss Emmeline's lace shawl and red satin fan; Miss 'Tilda wanted to make
+a call and had nothing to wear.</p>
+
+<p>All this, I think, made mother perfectly <i>set</i> against our ever
+borrowing so much as a slatepencil or a pin. We were always to use our
+own things or go without. I never had a sister, but cousins often spent
+months at the house, and were in and out of my room in the freest way,
+forever bringing me their gloves to mend or their ties to clean, as
+cousins will.</p>
+
+<p>"Never borrow," said my mother. "Buy, or give away, or do without, but
+be beholden to nobody for a loan."</p>
+
+<p>Another rule for little housekeepers is to wash their hands and faces
+and have their hair in the nicest order before they begin to cook. The
+nails should be cleaned and the toilet attended to as carefully as if
+the girl were going to a party, before she begins any work in the
+kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>I suppose you think my bill of fare for a company tea very plain, but I
+hadn't time for anything elaborate. Besides, if what you have is very
+good, and set on the table prettily, most people will be satisfied even
+if the fare is simple.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a>"Apple-sauce," said Amy one day, "is a dish I never touch. We used to
+have it so often at school that I grew tired at the sight of it."</p>
+
+<p>But Amy did eat apple-sauce at our house. Aunt Hetty taught me how to
+make it, and I think it very good. We always cook it in an earthenware
+crock over a very quick fire. This is our receipt: Pare and slice the
+apples, eight large ones are sufficient for a generous dish, and put
+them on with a very little water. As soon as they are soft and pulpy
+stir in enough granulated sugar to make them as sweet as your father and
+brothers like them. Take them off and strain them through a fine sieve
+into a glass dish. Cook the apple-sauce about two hours before it is
+wanted on the table. Put beside it a bowl of whipped cream, and when you
+help to the sauce add a heaping spoonful of the cream to every dish.</p>
+
+<p>People spoil apple-sauce by making it carelessly, so that it is lumpy
+and coarse, or has seeds or bits of the core sticking in it, and mother
+says that both apple-pies and apple-sauce should be used the day they
+are made. They lose their <i>bouquet</i>, the fine delicate flavor is all
+gone if you keep them long before using. A great divine used to say that
+"the natural life of an apple pie is just twelve hours."</p>
+
+<p><i>Tapioca Blanc-Mange.</i>&mdash;This is the <a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a>receipt: One pint of fresh milk,
+three-quarters of a cupful of sugar, half a pound of tapioca soaked in
+cold water four hours, a small teaspoonful of vanilla, a pinch of salt.
+Heat the milk and stir in the tapioca previously soaked. Mix well and
+add the sugar. Boil it slowly fifteen minutes, then take it off and beat
+until nearly cold. Pour into moulds, and stand upon the ice.</p>
+
+<p>This is very nice served with a teaspoonful of currant or raspberry
+jelly to each helping, and if cream is added it makes a beautiful
+dessert. This ought to be made the day before it is needed. I made mine
+before noon and it was quite ready, but you see it tired me to have it
+on my mind, and it <i>might</i> have been a failure.</p>
+
+<p><i>Cup-Cake.</i>&mdash;Three teacups of sifted sugar and one cup and a half of
+butter beaten to a cream, three eggs well beaten (white and yolks
+separately), three teacupfuls of sifted flour. Flavor with essence of
+lemon or rose water. A half teaspoonful is enough. Dissolve a
+teaspoonful of cream of tartar and a half teaspoonful of baking soda in
+a very little milk. When they foam, stir them quickly into the cake.
+Beat well until the mixture is perfectly smooth, and has tiny bubbles
+here and there on the surface. Bake in a very quick oven.</p>
+
+<p><i>Cookies.</i>&mdash;These were in the house. We always keep a good supply. One
+cup of <a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a>butter, one of sugar, one of sour milk, half a nutmeg grated,
+one teaspoonful of saleratus dissolved in a little boiling water, flour
+enough to roll out the cookies. Cut into small round cakes and bake.
+Keep these in a close tin. They will last a long time unless the house
+is supplied with hungry school-boys.</p>
+
+<p><i>Cocoa.</i>&mdash;Two ounces of cocoa and one quart of boiling water. Boil
+together for a half hour on the back of the stove, then add a quart of
+milk and two tablespoonfuls of sugar. Boil for ten minutes and serve.</p>
+
+<p>Everything on the table was enjoyed, and we girls had a very merry time.
+After tea and before the brothers came, we arranged a plan for learning
+to make bread. I forgot to speak of the strawberries, but good
+strawberries and rich cream need no directions. A pretty way of serving
+them for breakfast, or for people who prefer them without cream, is
+simply to arrange the beautiful fruit unhulled on a cut glass dish, and
+dip each berry by its dainty stem into a little sparkling mound of
+powdered sugar.</p>
+
+<p>As for our games, our talk, our royally good time, girls will understand
+this without my describing it. As Veva said, you can't put the soul of a
+good time down on the club's record book, and I find I can't put it down
+here in black and white. But when we said good-night, each girl felt
+perfectly <a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a>satisfied with the day, and the brothers pleaded for many
+more such evenings.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h3>
+
+<h4>A FAIR WHITE LOAF.</h4>
+
+
+<p>"It's very well," said Miss Clem Downing, Marjorie's sister, "for you
+little housekeepers to make cakes and creams; anybody can do that; but
+you'll never be housekeepers in earnest, little or big, my dears, till
+you can make good eatable bread."</p>
+
+<p>"Bread," said Mr. Pierce to Amy, "is the crowning test of housewifery. A
+lady is a loaf-giver, don't you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"When Jeanie shall present me with a perfect loaf of bread, I'll present
+her with a five-dollar gold piece," said Jeanie's father.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want Veva meddling in the kitchen," observed Mrs. Fay, with
+emphasis. "The maids are vexatious enough, and the cook cross enough as
+it is. If ever Veva learns breadmaking, it must be outside of this
+house."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't bother me, daughter," said Mrs. Partridge, looking up from the
+cup she was painting. "It will be time for you to learn breadmaking when
+the bakers shut their shops."</p>
+
+<p>As for the writer of this story, her mother's <a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a>way had been to teach her
+breadmaking when she was just tall enough to have a tiny moulding-board
+on a chair, but Milly did not feel qualified to take hold of a regular
+cooking class. It was the same with Linda Curtis. Grandmamma suggested
+our having a teacher, and paying her for her trouble.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Muffet?" said Veva.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Muffet," we all exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"And then," said Jeanie, "our money will enable her to buy the winter
+cloak she is so much in need of, and she will not feel as if she were
+accepting charity, because she will earn the money if she teaches us."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, she will," exclaimed Veva. "I know beforehand that she will
+have one fearfully stupid pupil, and that is Veva Fay."</p>
+
+<p>Breakfast was no sooner over next morning, and grandmamma dressed and
+settled in comfort, than away we flew to our friend. "We," means Linda
+and myself. She is my nearest neighbor, and we often act for the club.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Muffet lived by herself in a bit of a house, her only companions
+being a very deaf sister and a very noisy parrot.</p>
+
+<p>"Passel o' girls! Passel o' girls!" screamed the parrot, as we lifted
+the latch and walked up the little bricked pathway, bordered with
+lady-slippers and prince's feather, to the porch, which was half hidden
+by clematis.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Muffet was known to every man, <a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a>woman and child in Bloomdale. She
+was sent for on every extra occasion, and at weddings, christenings and
+funerals, when there was more work than usual to be done, the little
+brisk woman, so quiet and so capable, was always on hand. She could do a
+little of everything, from seating Tommy's trousers to setting patches
+in Ellen's sleeves; from making lambrequins and table scarfs to
+laundrying lace curtains and upholstering furniture. As for cooking,
+preserving and canning, she was celebrated for miles around and beyond
+our township.</p>
+
+<p>"Would Miss Muffet undertake to show a few girls how to make bread and
+rolls and biscuit and sally-lunn, and have patience with them till they
+were perfect little housekeepers, so far as bread was concerned."</p>
+
+<p>It was some little time before we could make Miss Muffet understand our
+plan, and persuade her to let us pay for our lessons; but when she did
+understand, she entered into the plan with enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>"La me! What a clever notion to be sure! Sister Jane, poor dear, would
+approve of it highly, if she weren't so deaf. Begin to-day? Well, well!
+You don't want the grass to grow under your feet, do you? All right!
+I'll be at your house, Milly, at six o'clock this evening to give the
+first lesson. Have the girls there, if you can. It's as easy to teach a
+dozen as one."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a>"Milly," said Linda, "the club ought to have a uniform and badges. I
+don't think a club is complete that hasn't a badge."</p>
+
+<p>"We all have white aprons," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; ordinary aprons, but not great kitchen aprons to cover us up from
+head to foot."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if the club adopts the plan it will not be hard to make such
+aprons. We must certainly have caps, and those should be thought of at
+once."</p>
+
+<p>Grandmamma was always my resort when I was at my wits' end, and so I
+went to her with a question: "Had she anything which would do for our
+caps?"</p>
+
+<p>"There must be something in my lower left-hand wardrobe drawer," said
+grandmamma, considering. "Thee may bring me a green bag, which thee will
+see in the far corner, and then we will talk about those caps in
+earnest."</p>
+
+<p>That wonderful green bag proved a sort of fairy find. There were
+remnants of mull, Swiss, jaconet and other fabrics&mdash;white, plain and
+barred. Grandmamma cut us a pattern. At four the seven girls were
+assembled in her room. Jeanie on a hassock at her feet, the remainder
+grouped as they chose.</p>
+
+<p>How our fingers flew! It was just a quarter to six when every cap was
+finished, and each girl had decided upon her special color.<a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a> We hadn't
+the ribbon to make our bows, and were obliged to wait till somebody
+should go to the city to procure it; but each girl knew her favorite
+color, and that was a comfort. Linda Curtis chose blue, and I would wear
+rose-tints (my parents did not insist on my wearing Quaker gray, and I
+dressed like "the world's people"), Veva chose old gold, and each of the
+others had a preference.</p>
+
+<p>"You will look like a field of daisies and clover, dearies," said
+grandmamma.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" cried Jeanie. "Why not have a four-leaved clover as our badge?
+There isn't anything prettier."</p>
+
+<p>The four-leaved clover carried the day, though one or two did speak for
+the daisy, the maiden-hair fern and the pussy willow. All this was
+before the subject of the national flower had been agitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are my pupils?" Miss Muffet appeared promptly at the hour, and
+wore a most business-like air as she began her instructions. "Compressed
+yeast has found its way to Bloomdale, my dears," she said, "so that I
+shall not have to begin by telling you how to make yeast. That useful
+lesson may wait till another day. Before we do anything, I will give you
+some rules for good family bread, and you may write them down, if you
+please.</p>
+
+<p>"1. Always sift your flour thoroughly."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a>Seven pencils wrote that rule in seven notebooks.</p>
+
+<p>"2. Mix the dough as soft as it can be handled. You must never have it
+too stiff.</p>
+
+<p>"3. Set it to rise in a moderately warm place.</p>
+
+<p>"4. You cannot knead bread too much. The more it is kneaded the firmer,
+sweeter and lighter it will be."</p>
+
+<p>When we had written this down Miss Muffet remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Deacon Ead's bread always takes the prize at the county fair. It
+looks like pound-cake. I don't want you girls to make flabby, porous
+bread, full of air-holes. I want you to learn how to knead it till it is
+just like an India-rubber cushion."</p>
+
+<p>"If the dough is soft won't it stick to our fingers?" said Marjorie,
+with a dainty little shiver.</p>
+
+<p>"Powder your hands very lightly with flour. That will keep the dough
+from sticking," said Miss Muffet, "and you will gain a knack after a
+while.</p>
+
+<p>"5. The oven must be steadily hot, but not too quick, for bread. Hold
+your hand in it while you count thirty, and it will be right for putting
+in your bread.</p>
+
+<p>"6. Grease your pans.</p>
+
+<p>"7. When taking bread from the oven loosen the loaves from the pans,
+stand them upright, and let them lean against something <a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a>to keep them in
+that position. Cover them lightly with a cloth.</p>
+
+<p>"8. Do not put them away until they are cold."</p>
+
+<p>We all gathered about the table, but were disappointed that there was
+nothing for us to do except look on.</p>
+
+<p>She took two quarts of flour and sifted it thoroughly into a large
+wooden bowl. In one pint of tepid water she dissolved a
+half-tablespoonful of salt and half a yeast cake. Pouring this into a
+hollow in the middle of the flour she gradually drew the flour into it
+from all sides, working it with swift, light touches until it was a
+compact mass. She pounced and pulled and beat this till it was as smooth
+and round as a ball, dusted a little flour over it, covered it with a
+thick cloth and set it aside.</p>
+
+<p>"That is all that can be done to-night, girls," she said. "Be here every
+one of you at six in the morning, if Milly can be up so early. The bread
+will be ready then for another kneading. You must not overlook the fact,
+girls, that bread is not accommodating. It has to be attended to when
+the proper time comes, whether it is convenient for the maker or not. If
+neglected, it will be too light, or else heavy. Bread which is too light
+has a sour taste, and is just as unpalatable as that which is heavy,
+<i>i.e.</i>, not raised enough, I mean."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a>In the morning our bread had risen to the top of the bowl, and had
+cracks running in a criss-cross manner over its surface. Miss Muffet was
+the first one to appear on the scene. She gave us a lesson in kneading.
+Such patting and pounding, throwing over, tossing back and forth, as she
+gave that poor dough. But the dough must have enjoyed it, for it seemed
+to grow lighter every minute.</p>
+
+<p>After a full twenty minutes of this process the bread was set near the
+fire for a second rising. A half-hour passed. Miss Muffet took it in
+hand again, and again she pounced and patted, beat and pounded the
+helpless mass, this time dividing it into three small loaves, which she
+set near the fire for the final rising.</p>
+
+<p>"Bread is nicer made in little loaves," she told us. "More convenient
+for use on the table, easier to bake, and less likely to become dry."</p>
+
+<p>And now let me give you a receipt for Ingleside waffles. Mother
+considers these very good, and so do we girls who have tried them.</p>
+
+<p>"Make one pint of Indian meal into mush the usual way, which is by
+stirring the meal into boiling water and letting it boil until it is
+thick. While hot put in a small lump of butter and a dessertspoonful of
+salt. Set the mush aside to cool. Beat separately the <a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a>whites and yolks
+of four eggs until very light; add the eggs to the mush, and cream in by
+degrees one quart of wheat flour; add half a pint of buttermilk or sour
+cream, in which you have dissolved a half-teaspoonful of bicarbonate of
+soda; add sweet milk enough to make a thin batter.</p>
+
+<p>"Have the waffle-irons hot. They should be heated in advance, not to
+keep the batter waiting. Butter them thoroughly and half fill them with
+the batter. Bake over a quick fire."</p>
+
+<p>I never eat waffles without thinking of a pleasant home where two girls
+and a boy who read this paper have good times every summer. They often
+go out on the bay for an afternoon sail, and come home in the rosy
+sunset in time for waffles. Waffles, with sugar and cream, are a very
+nice addition to a supper table.</p>
+
+<p>Another receipt of Miss Muffet's:</p>
+
+<p><i>Delicious Corn Muffins.</i>&mdash;One pint of corn meal sifted, one egg, one
+pint of sweet milk, a teaspoonful of butter, and half a teaspoonful of
+salt. Pour this mixture into muffin-rings and bake in a very quick oven.</p>
+
+<p>This receipt is one that mother sometimes uses on a cold winter evening
+when she has nothing else hot for supper. They are great favorites in
+our household.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h3>
+
+<h4>HOW TO SWEEP.</h4>
+
+
+<p>In the first chapter of this story I spoke of the trouble housekeepers
+in Bloomdale had to get and keep good servants.</p>
+
+<p>We Clover Leaf girls made up our minds that we would learn to be
+independent. We resolved to know how to do every sort of housework, so
+that we might assist our mothers whenever they needed us, and be ready
+for any emergency as it came along.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Hetty's daughter-in-law in Boston sent the poor old soul a letter
+which made her rather uneasy, and grandmamma thought that I might better
+let her go and pay Sally a visit while mother was away than to wait till
+her return.</p>
+
+<p>"The fall dressmaking and cleaning will be coming on then," said
+grandmother, "and thee will be busy with school again. So if Hetty takes
+her vacation now, she will be here to help the dear mother then."</p>
+
+<p>I agreed to this, for the chance of having the kitchen to myself was
+very tempting. The club was charmed; they said they would just live at
+our house and help me with all their might.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you won't have Hetty's moods to worry you," said Veva,
+consolingly.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a>We had a good time. Nevertheless it was a happy day for me when Aunt
+Hetty, bag and baggage, came home a week sooner than she was expected.
+Nobody was looking for her; but the good old soul, having seen her
+relations, felt restless, and wanted to get home.</p>
+
+<p>"Somefin done tole me, honey," she said, "that Aunt Hetty am wanted
+hyar, and sure enuf it's so. Yo' pa an' ma off on dey trabbles, and
+nobody but one pore lamb lef' to take car' ob de house an' de ole madam.
+I wouldn't hab gone only for dat no-account Sal anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>I felt like a bird set free from a cage when Aunt Hetty appeared, and
+she came in the very nick of time, too, for that same day up rolled the
+stage, and out popped my great-aunt Jessamine (grandmamma's sister) from
+Philadelphia. The two old ladies had so much to tell one another that
+they had no need of me. So I went to the Downings', where the club was
+to hold a meeting, armed with brushes and brooms, taking a practical
+lesson in sweeping and dusting.</p>
+
+<p>The Downings were without a maid, and we all turned in to help them.
+Alice, Nell, and Clem, the older sisters, accepted our offer joyfully,
+though I think their mother had doubts of the wisdom of setting so many
+of us loose in her house at once. But Linda Curtis and Jeanie Cartwright
+found that <a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a>they were not needed and went home; Veva had a music lesson
+and was excused; Linda's mamma had taken her off on a jaunt for the day;
+and Amy could not be spared from home. Only Lois and I were left to help
+Marjorie, and, on the principle that many hands make light work, we
+distributed ourselves about the house under the direction of the elder
+Downing sisters.</p>
+
+<p>Now, girls all, let me give you a hint which may save you lots of time
+and trouble. If sweeping and dusting are thoroughly done, they do not
+need to be done so very often. A room once put in perfect order,
+especially in a country village, where the houses stand like little
+islands in a sea of green grass, ought to stay clean a long time.</p>
+
+<p>It is very different in a city, where the dust flies in clouds an hour
+after a shower, and where the carts and wagons are constantly stirring
+it up. Give me the sweet, clean country.</p>
+
+<p>Mother's way is to carefully dust and wipe first with a damp and then
+with a dry cloth all the little articles of bric-a-brac, vases, small
+pictures, and curios, which we prize because they are pretty, after
+which she sets them in a closet or drawer quite out of the way. Then,
+with a soft cloth fastened over the broom, she has the walls wiped down,
+and with a hair brush which comes for the purpose she removes every
+speck of dust and <a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a>cobweb from the cornices and corners. A knitted cover
+of soft lampwick over a broom is excellent for wiping a dusty or a
+papered wall.</p>
+
+<p>Next, all curtains which cannot be conveniently taken down are shaken
+well and pinned up out of the way. Shades are rolled to the top. Every
+chair and table is dusted, and carried out of the room which is about to
+be swept. If there are books, they are dusted and removed, or if they
+are arranged on open shelves, they are first dusted and then carefully
+covered.</p>
+
+<p>Mother's way is to keep a number of covers of old calico, for the
+purpose of saving large pieces of furniture, shelves and such things,
+which cannot be removed from their places on sweeping days.</p>
+
+<p>It is easier, she says, to protect these articles than to remove the
+dust when it has once lodged in carvings and mouldings.</p>
+
+<p>We girls made a frolic of our dusting, but we did it beautifully too. I
+suppose you have all noticed what a difference it makes in work whether
+you go at it cheerfully or go at it as a task that you hate. If you keep
+thinking how hard it is, and wishing you had somebody else to do it for
+you, and fretting and fuming, and pitying yourself, you are sure to have
+a horrid time. But if you take hold of a thing in earnest and call it
+fun, you don't get half so tired.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a>In sweeping take long light strokes, and do not use too heavy a broom.</p>
+
+<p>"Milly," said Lois, "do you honestly think sweeping is harder exercise
+than playing tennis or golf?"</p>
+
+<p>I hesitated. "I really don't know. One never thinks of hard or easy in
+any games out of doors; the air is so invigorating, they have a great
+advantage over house work in that way."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, for my part," said Marjorie, "I like doing work that tells. There
+is so much satisfaction in seeing the figures in the carpet come out
+brightly under my broom. Alice, what did you do to make your
+reception-room so perfectly splendiferous? Girls, look here! You'd think
+this carpet had just come out of the warehouse."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother often tells Aunt Hetty," said I, "to dip the end of the broom in
+a pail of water in which she has poured a little ammonia&mdash;a teaspoonful
+to a gallon. The ammonia takes off the dust, and refreshes the colors
+wonderfully. We couldn't keep house without it," I finished, rather
+proudly.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you bring some from home?" asked Marjorie, looking hurt.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, of course not! I asked your mother, and she gave me the bottle,
+and told me to take what I wanted."</p>
+
+<p>"A little coarse salt or some damp tea-leaves strewed over a carpet
+before sweeping <a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a>adds ease to the cleansing process," said Mrs. Downing,
+appearing on the scene and praising us for our thoroughness. "The reason
+is that both the salt and the tea-leaves being moist keep down the light
+floating dust, which gives more trouble than the heavier dirt. But now
+you will all be better for a short rest; so come into my snuggery, and
+have a gossip and a lunch, and then you may attack the enemy again."</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Downing, you are a darling," exclaimed Lois, as we saw a platter
+of delicate sandwiches, and another of crisp ginger cookies, with a
+great pitcher of milk. "We didn't know that we were hungry; but now that
+I think about it, I, for one, am certain that I could not have lived
+much longer without something to supply the waste of my failing cellular
+tissue."</p>
+
+<p>"I think," replied Mrs. Downing, "that we would often feel much better
+for stopping in our day's work to take a little rest. I often pause in
+the middle of my morning's work and lie down for a half-hour, or I send
+to the kitchen and have a glass of hot milk brought me, with a crust or
+a cracker. You girls would not wish to lie down, but you would often
+find that you felt much fresher if you just stopped and rested, or put
+on your jackets and hats and ran away for a breath of out-door air. You
+would come back to your work like new beings."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a>"Just as we did in school after recess," said Marjorie.</p>
+
+<p>"Precisely. Change of employment is the best tonic."</p>
+
+<p>Our luncheon over, and our rooms swept, rugs shaken, stairs and passages
+thoroughly brushed and wiped, we polished the windows with cloths dipped
+in ammonia water and wrung out, and followed them by a dry rubbing with
+soft linen cloths. Then it was time to restore the furniture to its
+place, and bring out the ornaments again from their seclusion.</p>
+
+<p>Now we saw what an advantage we had gained in having prepared these
+before we began the campaign. In a very little while the work was done
+and the house settled, and so spotless and speckless we felt sure it
+would keep clean for weeks.</p>
+
+<p>Mother's way is to use a patent sweeper daily in rooms which are
+occupied for sewing and other work, and she says that she does not find
+it necessary to give her rooms more than a light sweeping oftener than
+once in six weeks. Of course it would be different if we had a large
+family.</p>
+
+<p>Paint should be wiped, door-knobs polished, and a touch of the duster
+given to everything on these sweeping days.</p>
+
+<p>The Clover Leaves voted that feather-dusters, as a rule, were a
+delusion. One often sees a girl, who looks very complacent <a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a>as she
+flirts a feather-duster over a parlor, displacing the dust so that it
+may settle somewhere else. All dusted articles should be wiped off, and
+the dust itself gotten rid of, by taking it out of the house, and
+leaving it no chance to get back on that day at least.</p>
+
+<p>When I reached home in time for our one o'clock dinner, I found
+Great-aunt Jessamine and grandmamma both waiting for me, and the former,
+who was a jolly little old lady, was quite delighted over the Bloomdale
+girls and their housekeeping.</p>
+
+<p>"All is," she said, "will those Downings do as well when there are no
+other girls to make them think the work is play?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" answered grandmamma, "I never trouble my head about what folks
+will do in the future. I have enough to do looking after what they do in
+the present. Alice here gets along very well all by herself a great part
+of the time. By-the-way, child, did Aunt Hetty give thee mother's
+letter?"</p>
+
+<p>I rushed off to get my treasure. It would soon be the blessed day when I
+might expect a letter telling me when my father and mother would be at
+home again.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h3>
+
+<h4>A LITTLE OF EVERYTHING.</h4>
+
+
+<p>Just as I began to be a wee little bit tired of housework, and to feel
+that I would like nothing so much as a day with my birds, my fancy-work,
+and a charming story-book, what should happen but that grandmamma's
+headache and Aunt Hetty's "misery in her bones" should both come at
+once.</p>
+
+<p>Tap, tap, tap on the floor above my head in the early dawn came
+grandmamma's ebony stick.</p>
+
+<p>Veva Fay and Marjorie Downing were both spending the night with me. Veva
+had slept on the wide, old-fashioned lounge in the corner, and Marjorie
+in the broad couch with me, and we had all talked till it was very late,
+as girls always do when they sleep in one room, unless, of course, they
+are sisters, or at school, and used to it.</p>
+
+<p>I had a beautiful room. It ran half across the front of the house, and
+had four great windows, a big fire-place, filled in summer with branches
+of cedar, or bunches of ferns, growing in a low box, and filling the
+great space with cool green shade, and in winter the delight of the
+girls, because of the famous hickory fires which blazed there, always
+ready to light at a touch.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a>In one corner stood my mahogany desk, above it a lovely picture of the
+Madonna and Child. Easy-chairs were standing around, and there were
+hassocks and ottomans in corners and beside the windows. My favorite
+engraving&mdash;a picture representing two children straying near a
+precipice, fearing no danger, and just ready to fall, when behind them,
+sweeping softly down, comes their guardian angel&mdash;hung over the mantel.</p>
+
+<p>How much pleasure I took in that room, in the book shelves always full,
+in the pretty rugs and the cool matting and the dainty drapery, all
+girls can imagine. It was my own Snuggery, and I kept it in the
+loveliest good order, as mother liked me to.</p>
+
+<p>Tap, tap, tap.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness!" cried Veva, only half awake.</p>
+
+<p>"What is that? Mice?" said Marjorie, timidly.</p>
+
+<p>"Burglars!" exclaimed Veva.</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, girls!" I said, shaking off my drowsiness. "It's poor grandmamma,
+and she has one of her fearfulest headaches. It's two weeks since she
+had the last, so one may be expected about now. The tap means, 'Come to
+me, quickly.'"</p>
+
+<p>I ran to the door, and said, "Coming, grandmamma!" slipped my feet into
+my soft knitted shoes, and hurried my gray flannel wrapper on, then
+hastened to her <a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a>bedside. I found that grandmamma was not so very ill,
+only felt unable to get up to breakfast with us, and wanted some gruel
+made as soon as possible.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been waiting to hear some stir in the house," she said, "but
+nobody seemed to be awake. Isn't it later than usual, girlie?"</p>
+
+<p>I tiptoed over to grandmamma's mantel, and looked at her little French
+clock. It <i>was</i> late! Eight, and past, and Hetty had not called us. What
+could be the matter?</p>
+
+<p>Down I flew to find out what ailed Aunt Hetty. She was usually an early
+riser.</p>
+
+<p>Before I reached her room, which was on the same floor with the kitchen,
+I heard groans issuing from it, and Hetty's voice saying: "Dear me! Oh,
+dear me!" in the most despairing, agonizing tones. Hetty always makes
+the most of a "misery in her bones."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, aunty?" I asked, peering into the room, which she <i>would</i>
+keep as dark as a pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"De misery in my bones, child! De ole king chills! Sometimes I'm up!
+Sometimes I'm down!"</p>
+
+<p>The bed shook under the poor thing, and I ran out to ask Patrick to go
+for the doctor, while I made the fire, and called the girls to help
+prepare breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>First in order after lighting the fire, which <a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a>being of wood blazed up
+directly that the match was applied to the kindlings, came the making of
+the corn-meal gruel.</p>
+
+<p>A tablespoonful of corn meal wet with six tablespoonfuls of milk, added
+one by one, gradually, so that the meal is quite free from lumps. One
+pint of boiling water, and a little salt. You must stir the smooth
+mixture of the meal and milk into the boiling water. It will cool it a
+little, and you must stir it until it comes to a boil, then stand it
+back, and let it simmer fifteen minutes.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor was caught by Patrick just leaving his house to go to a
+patient ten miles off. He prescribed for Aunt Hetty, looked in upon
+grandmamma, and told me to keep up my courage, I was a capital little
+nurse, and he would rather have me to take care of him than anybody else
+he knew, if he were ill, which he never was.</p>
+
+<p>He drove off in his old buggy, leaving three little maids watching him
+with admiring eyes. We all loved Doctor Chester. "Now, girls," I said,
+"we must get our breakfast. We cannot live on air."</p>
+
+<p>Marjorie brought the eggs and milk. Veva cut the bread and picked the
+blackberries. I put the pan on to heat for the omelette, and this is the
+way we made it:</p>
+
+<p>Three eggs, broken separately and beaten hard&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">"In making an omelette,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Children, you see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The longer you beat it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The lighter 'twill be,"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>hummed Marjorie, add a teaspoonful of milk, and beat up with the eggs;
+beat until the very last moment when you pour into the pan, in which you
+have dropped a bit of butter, over the hot fire. As soon as it sets,
+move the pan to a cooler part of the stove, and slip a knife under the
+edge to prevent its sticking to the pan; when it is almost firm in the
+middle, slant the pan a little, slip your knife all the way round the
+edge to get it free, then tip it over in such a way that it will fold as
+it falls on the plate.</p>
+
+<p>You should serve an omelette on a hot plate, and it requires a little
+dexterity to learn how to take it out neatly.</p>
+
+<p>Veva exclaimed, "Oh, Milly, you forgot the salt!"</p>
+
+<p>"No," I explained; "French cooks declare that salt should never be mixed
+with eggs when they are prepared for omelette. It makes the omelette
+tough and leathery. A little salt, however, may be sprinkled upon it
+just before it is turned out upon the dish."</p>
+
+<p>Here is another receipt, which Jeanie copied out of her mother's book:</p>
+
+<p>"Six eggs beaten separately, a cup of milk, a teaspoonful of corn-starch
+mixed <a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a>smoothly in a little of the milk, a tablespoonful of melted
+butter, a dash of pepper, and a sprinkle of salt. Beat well together,
+the yolks of the eggs only being used in this mixture. When thoroughly
+beaten add the foaming whites and set in a very quick oven."</p>
+
+<p>It will rise up as light as a golden puff ball, but it must not be used
+in a family who have a habit of coming late to breakfast, because, if
+allowed to stand, this particular omelette grows presently as flat as a
+flounder.</p>
+
+<p>After breakfast came the task of washing the dishes. Is there anything
+which girls detest as they do this everyday work? Every day? Three times
+a day, at least, it must be done in most houses, and somebody must do
+it.</p>
+
+<p>Veva said: "I'd like to throw the dishes away after every meal. If a
+fairy would offer <i>me</i> three wishes the first one I'd make would be
+never to touch a dishcloth again so long as I lived."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Veva!" exclaimed Marjorie. "Think of the lovely china the Enderbys
+have, and the glass which came to Mrs. Curtis from her
+great-grandmother. Would you like a piece of that to be broken if it
+were yours?"</p>
+
+<p>"No-o-o!" acknowledged Veva. "But our dishes are not so sacred, and our
+Bridgets break them regularly. We are always having to buy new ones as
+it is. Mamma <a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a>groans, and sister Constance sighs, and Aunt Ernie scolds,
+but the dishes go."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother thinks that the old-fashioned gentlewomen, who used to wash the
+breakfast things themselves, were very sensible and womanly."</p>
+
+<p>Eva shrugged her plump shoulders, but took a towel to wipe the silver. I
+had gathered up the dishes, and taken my own way of going about this
+piece of work.</p>
+
+<p>First I took a pan of hot water in which I had dissolved a bit of soap,
+and I attacked the disagreeable things&mdash;the saucepans and broilers and
+pots and pans. They are very useful, but they are not ornamental. All
+nice housekeepers are very particular to cleanse them thoroughly,
+removing every speck of grease from both the outside and the inside, and
+drying them until they shine.</p>
+
+<p>It isn't worth while to ruin your hands or make them coarse and rough
+when washing pots and pans. I use a mop, and do not put my hands into
+the hot, greasy water. Mother says one may do housework and look like a
+lady if she has common sense.</p>
+
+<p>I finished the pots and pans and set my cups and saucers in a row, my
+plates scraped and piled together, my silver in the large china bowl,
+and my glasses were all ready for the next step. I had two pans, one
+half-filled with soapy, the other with clear water, and having given my
+dainty dishes a bath <a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a>in the first I treated them to a dip in the
+second, afterward letting them drain for a moment on the tray at my
+right hand. Veva and Marjorie wiped the silver and glass with the soft
+linen towels which are kept for these only; next I took my plates, then
+the platters, and finally the knives. Just as we finished the last dish
+I heard grandmother's tap, tap on the floor over my head.</p>
+
+<p>There's an art in everything, even in washing dishes. I fancy one might
+grow fond of it, if only one took an interest in always doing it well.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps it is because my parents are Friends, and I have been taught
+that it is foolish to be flurried and flustered and to hurry over any
+work, but I do think that one gets along much faster when one does not
+make too much haste.</p>
+
+<p>I do hope I may always act just as mother does, she is so sweet and
+peaceful, never cross, never worried. Now, dear grandmamma is much more
+easily vexed. But then she is older and she has the Van Doren headaches.</p>
+
+<p>Tap, tap came the call of the ebony stick. I ran up to grandmamma's
+room.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h3>
+
+<h4>A CANDY PULL.</h4>
+
+
+<p>Of all things in the world, what should grandmamma propose but my
+sending for Miss Muffet! Great-aunt Jessamine had gone away long before.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe it was to-day that the girls meant to have the candy pull at
+Jeanie's, wasn't it?" grandmamma asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, darling grandmamma," I said, "they may have it; but I am not going
+to desert you."</p>
+
+<p>"Thee is very kind, dearie," replied grandmamma; "but I need only quiet,
+and Hetty will come out of her attack just as well without thee as with
+thee. I particularly wish that thee would go. How is thee to have the
+fair unless thee has the candy pull? The time is passing, too. It will
+soon be school and lessons again."</p>
+
+<p>So, at grandmamma's urging, I went for Miss Muffet. The little woman
+came without much delay, and took hold, as she expressed it, looking
+after both our invalids; and in the meantime telling me how to broil a
+steak for my grandmamma's and our own dinner, and how to fry potatoes so
+that they should not be soaked with grease.</p>
+
+<p>A girl I know gained a set of Dickens' works by broiling a steak so as
+to please <a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a>her father, who was a fastidious gentleman, and said he
+wanted it neither overdone nor underdone, but just right.</p>
+
+<p>For broiling you need a thick steak, a clear fire, and a clean gridiron.
+Never try to broil meat over a blaze. You must have a bed of coals, with
+a steady heat. The steak must not be salted until you have turned each
+side to the fire; and it must be turned a good many times and cooked
+evenly. It will take from five to seven minutes to broil it properly,
+and it will then have all the juices in, and be fit for a king.</p>
+
+<p>I don't know that kings have any better food than other gentlemen, but
+one always supposes that they will have the very best.</p>
+
+<p>A steak may be cooked very appetizingly in the frying pan; but the pan
+must be very hot, and have no grease in it. Enough of that will ooze
+from the fat of the steak to keep it from sticking fast. A good steak
+cooked in a cold frying-pan and simmering in grease is an abomination.
+So declares Miss Muffet, and all epicures with her.</p>
+
+<p>To fry potatoes or croquettes or any other thing well, one must have
+plenty of lard or butter or beef drippings, as she prefers, and let it
+boil. It should bubble up in the saucepan, and there should be enough of
+it to cover the wire basket in which the delicately sliced potatoes are
+laid&mdash;a few at time&mdash;to cook. They will not absorb fat, because <a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a>the
+heat, when the first touch of it is given, will form a tight skin over
+them, and the grease cannot pierce this. They will be daintily brown,
+firm and dry.</p>
+
+<p>But this isn't telling of our candy pull.</p>
+
+<p>We had set our hearts on having fun and doing good&mdash;killing two birds
+with one stone, as Al Fay said. But I do not approve of that proverb,
+for certainly no <i>girl</i> ever wishes to kill a bird; no more does a
+decent boy think of such a thing.</p>
+
+<p>We resolved to have a fair and to sell candy at it, making every bit
+ourselves.</p>
+
+<p>Therefore we had sent out some invitations to girls not of the club, and
+to some of the nicest boys. They were as follows:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The Clover Leaf Club of Bloomdale requests the pleasure of your
+company at the house of Miss Jeanie Cartwright, on Friday evening,
+September 8, at eight o'clock. Candy pull. </p></div>
+
+<p class='author'><span class="smcap">Milly Van Doren</span>,<br />
+<i>President</i>.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Lois Partridge,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Secretary</i>.</span>
+</p></div>
+
+<p>I had my doubts all day as to whether it would be right for me to go;
+but about four o'clock Aunt Hetty, looking as well as ever, came out of
+her room in a stiffly starched gingham gown, and proceeded to cook for
+herself a rasher of bacon and some eggs. Grandmamma was up and reading
+one of her favorite books; and Miss Muffett, who had stepped over to her
+house to attend to <a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a>her sister and the parrot, came back declaring her
+intention to stay all night.</p>
+
+<p>"So, my darling child, you may go, and welcome."</p>
+
+<p>Away went my doubts and fears, and I tripped merrily down the street to
+Jeanie's, feeling the happier for a letter from mother, which I found at
+the post office.</p>
+
+<p>Our candy was to be sold for a cent a stick, but the sticks were not
+scanty little snips by any means. Mrs. Cartwright made us a present of
+the molasses, Lois brought the sugar from home, Al Fay brought the
+saleratus, Patty remembered about the vinegar, and Marjorie produced the
+butter.</p>
+
+<p>These were the ingredients: a half-gallon of New Orleans molasses, a cup
+of vinegar, a piece of butter as large as two eggs, a good teaspoonful
+of saleratus dissolved in hot water.</p>
+
+<p>We melted the sugar in the vinegar, stirred it into the molasses, and
+let it come to the boil, stirring steadily. The boys took turns at this
+work.</p>
+
+<p>When the syrup began to thicken we dropped in the saleratus, which makes
+it clear; then flouring our hands, each took a position, and pulled it
+till it was white.</p>
+
+<p>The longer we pulled, the whiter it grew. We ate some of it, but we
+girls were quite firm in saving half for our sale.</p>
+
+<p>Then we made maple-sugar caramels.<a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a> Have you ever tried them? They are
+splendid. You must have maple sugar to begin with; real sugar from the
+trees in Vermont if you can get it. You will need a deep saucepan. Then
+into a quart of fresh sweet milk break two pounds of sugar. Set it over
+the fire. As the sugar melts, it will expand. Boil, boil, boil, stir,
+stir, stir. Never mind if your face grows hot. One cannot make candy
+sitting in a rocking-chair with a fan. One doesn't calculate to, as
+Great-aunt Jessamine always says.</p>
+
+<p>The way to test it when you <i>think</i> it is done is to drop a portion in
+cold water. If brittle enough to break, it is done. Pour into square
+buttered pans, and mark off while soft into little squares with a knife.</p>
+
+<p>Some people like cream candy. It is made in this way: three large
+cupfuls of loaf-sugar, six tablespoonfuls of water. Boil, without
+stirring, in a bright tin pan until it will crisp in water like molasses
+candy. Flavor it with essence of lemon or vanilla; just before it is
+done, add one teaspoonful of cream of tartar. Powder your hands with
+flour, and pull it until it is perfectly white.</p>
+
+<p><i>Plain Caramels</i>.&mdash;One pound of brown sugar, a quarter of a pound of
+chocolate, one pint of cream, one teaspoonful of butter, two
+tablespoonfuls of molasses. Boil for thirty minutes, stirring all the
+time; test by dropping into cold water. Flavor with <a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a>vanilla, and mark
+off as you do the maple caramels.</p>
+
+<p>Home-made candy is sure to be of good materials, and will seldom be
+harmful unless the eater takes a great quantity. Then the pleasure of
+making it counts for something.</p>
+
+<p>Our little fair was held the day after the candy pull, and the boys put
+up a tent for us in Colonel Fay's grounds. Admission to the tent was
+five cents. We sold candy, cake, ice-cream, and&mdash;home-made bread, and
+our gains were nineteen dollars and ten cents. There were an apron
+table, and a table where we sold pin-cushions and pen-wipers; but our
+real profits came from the bread, which the girls' fathers were so proud
+of that they bought it at a dollar a loaf. With the money which came
+from the fair, we sent two little girls, Dot and Dimpsie, our poorest
+children in Bloomdale, where most people were quite comfortably off, to
+the seaside for three whole weeks.</p>
+
+<p>I do not know what we would have done in Bloomdale if Dot and Dimpsie
+had not had a father who would rather go off fishing, or lounge in the
+sun telling stories, than support his family. Everybody disapproved of
+Jack Roper, but everybody liked his patient little wife and his two dear
+little girls, and we all helped them on.</p>
+
+<p>There was no excuse for Jack. He was a tall, strong man, a good hunter,
+fisher and <a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a>climber, a sailor whenever he could get the chance to go off
+on a cruise; but he would not work steadily. He did not drink, or swear,
+or abuse his wife; but he did not support her, and if people called him
+Shiftless Jack, he only laughed.</p>
+
+<p>As he was the only person in Bloomdale who behaved in this way, we did
+what mother calls condoning his offences&mdash;we called on him for odd jobs
+of repairing and for errands and extra work, such as lighting fires and
+carrying coals in winter, shoveling snow and breaking paths, weeding
+gardens in summer, and gathering apples in the fall. We girls determined
+to take care of Dot and Dimpsie, and help Mrs. Roper along.</p>
+
+<p>They were two dear little things, and Mrs. Roper was very glad of our
+assistance.</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h3>
+
+<h4>KEEPING ACCOUNTS.</h4>
+
+
+<p>Mother's way in one particular is different from that of some other
+people. Veva Fay and Lois Partridge never have any money of their own.
+They always ask their parents for what they want. If Lois' papa is in a
+happy frame of mind, he will give her a five-dollar gold piece, and say:
+"There, go <a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a>along, little girl, and buy as many bonbons as you please.
+When that's gone, you know where to come for more."</p>
+
+<p>If he happens to be tired, or if something in the city has gone wrong
+that day, he will very likely meet her modest request with a "Don't
+bother me, child! I won't encourage your growing up in foolish
+extravagance."</p>
+
+<p>Veva's father and mother make such a pet of her that they cannot bear to
+deny her anything, and she will often order pretty things when she goes
+to town, and is out walking with her cousins, just because they are
+pretty, and not because she has any real use for them. If there were any
+beggars here, Veva would empty that little silken purse of hers every
+time she saw them, but the club has forbidden her to spoil Dot and
+Dimpsie in that way. And she is too much of a lady to outshine the rest
+of us.</p>
+
+<p>Mother and father both believe in keeping an exact account of expenses.
+Money is a great trust, and we must use it with care. Economy, which
+some people suppose to be another name for saving, is a beautiful
+picture word which signifies to guide the house. Mother thinks economy
+cannot be learned in a day. So when I was little she began by giving me
+ten cents every Saturday morning. At the same time she put in my hand a
+little book and a pencil.</p>
+
+<p>"See, daughter," she said, "thee is to <a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a>set thy ten cents down on one
+page, and that will show how much thee has to spend. On the other thee
+is to put down the penny given in church, the penny for taffy, for
+fines."</p>
+
+<p>For fines? What could she mean?</p>
+
+<p>Well, perhaps you will laugh; but my mother's way is never to let a
+child in her care use slang, or slam doors, or leave things lying about
+in wrong places, or speak unkindly of the absent. Half a cent had to be
+paid every time I did any of these things, and I kept my own account of
+them, and punished myself. I always knew when I had violated one of
+mother's golden rules by her grieved look, or father's surprised one, or
+by a little prick from my conscience.</p>
+
+<p>"And what was done with the fines?" asked Jeanie, when I told her of
+this plan.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they went into our hospital fund, and twice a year&mdash;at midsummer
+and Christmas&mdash;they were sent away to help some good Sisters who spent
+their lives in looking after poor little cripples, or blind children, or
+who went about in tenements to care for the old and sick."</p>
+
+<p>At every week's end I had to bring my book to mother, add up what I had
+spent, and subtract the amount from my original sum. If both were the
+same, it was all right. If I had spent less than I received last
+Saturday, then there was a balance in my favor, <a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a>and something was there
+all ready to add to my new ten cents. But if I had gone into debt, or
+fallen short, or borrowed from anybody, mother was much displeased.</p>
+
+<p>As I grew older my allowance was increased, until now I buy my gowns and
+hats, give presents out of my own money, and have a little sum in the
+savings-bank.</p>
+
+<p>My housekeeping account while mother was absent was quite separate from
+any other of my own. Mother handed me the housekeeping books and the
+housekeeping money, with the keys, and left me responsible.</p>
+
+<p>"Thee knows, Milly love," she said, "that I never have bills. I pay
+everybody each week. Thee must do the same. And always put down the
+day's expenses at the end of the day. Then nothing will be forgotten."</p>
+
+<p>At the close of the year mother knows where every penny of hers has
+gone. Even to the value of a postage-stamp or a postal-card.</p>
+
+<p>As the Clover Leaf Club girls were not all so fortunate as I in having
+an allowance, they took less interest in learning how to shop.</p>
+
+<p>There are two ways of shopping. One is to set out without a very
+definite idea of what you wish to buy, and to buy what you do not want,
+if the shopman persuades you to do so, or it pleases your fancy.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a>The other is to make a list of articles before you leave home,
+something like this: Nine yards of merino for gown; three yards of
+silesia; two spools of cotton, Nos. 30 and 50; one spool of twist; one
+dozen crochet buttons; a dozen fine napkins and a lunch cloth; five
+yards of blue ribbon one inch wide; a paper of pins; a bottle of
+perfumery; five-eighths of a yard of ruching for the neck.</p>
+
+<p>Provided with such a memorandum, the person who has her shopping to do
+will save time by dividing her articles into classes. The linen goods
+will probably be near together in the shop, and she will buy them first;
+then going to the counters where dress goods are kept, she will choose
+her gown and whatever belongs to it; the thread, pins, twist and other
+little articles will come next; and last, her ruching and ribbon.</p>
+
+<p>She will have accomplished without any trouble, fuss, or loss of temper
+what would have wearied an unsystematic girl who has never learned how
+to shop.</p>
+
+<p>Then, before she set out, she would have known very nearly how much she
+could afford to spend&mdash;that is, she would have known if <i>my</i> mother's
+way had been her mother's&mdash;and on no account would she have spent more
+than she had allowed herself in thinking it over at home.</p>
+
+<p>When the club undertook charge of all<a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a> Dot's and Dimpsie's expenses, it
+was rather a puzzle to some of us to know how we were to pay our share.
+I set apart something from my allowance. Lois watched for her papa's
+pleasant moods. Veva danced up to her father, put her arms around his
+neck, and lifted her mouth for a kiss, coaxed him for some money to give
+away, which she always received directly. Others of the girls were at a
+loss what to do.</p>
+
+<p>Jeanie and Linda had a happy thought, which they carried out. They said:
+"We have learned how to make bread and biscuits and cake and candy, and
+we all know how often our friends cannot persuade cooks to stay in their
+houses. We will make bread or cake on Saturday mornings for anybody who
+is good enough to pay for it."</p>
+
+<p>They could not see why it was not just as sensible a thing to make and
+sell good bread as to paint scarfs or embroider tidies, and mother,
+after she heard of their proposal, quite agreed with them.</p>
+
+<p>Through our efforts, combined as they were, we sent our little girls to
+Kindergarten, kept warm shoes and stockings on their feet, and brought
+them up respectably, though Jack Roper was as odd and indolent as ever,
+and never showed by so much as a look that he imagined anybody took an
+interest in his children.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h3>
+
+<h4>WE GIVE A RECEPTION.</h4>
+
+
+<p>Everything pleasant comes to an end, even pleasant vacations, and when
+the golden-rods were bowing to the asters, like gallant knights to their
+ladyloves, and the red sumachs were hanging out the first flags of
+autumn, we girls had to think of school once more.</p>
+
+<p>The books which had been closed for almost three months beckoned us
+again, and delightful as the Clover Leaf meetings had grown, we knew
+that for the next nine months we should hold them only on Saturdays,
+perhaps not always then.</p>
+
+<p>"Girls," said Linda Curtis, "what shall we do for a wind-up to the
+summer? Something which has never been done in Bloomdale. Something
+which will be remembered when we are grown up and have forgotten our
+girlish pranks?"</p>
+
+<p>Linda's suggestion was approved unanimously, but nobody could propose
+anything which everybody liked.</p>
+
+<p>Finally Jeanie and Amy, who had been putting their heads together, and
+whispering until the Chair had to call them to order, showed by their
+smiling faces that they had a bright idea.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a>"Miss President," said Jeanie, "if I may, I should like to make a
+motion."</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Cartwright has the floor," said the President, gravely.</p>
+
+<p>"I move that the Bloomdale Clover Leaf Club give a reception in the
+Academy to all the Bloomdale neighbors and friends, <i>with a programme</i>,
+and refreshments afterward."</p>
+
+<p>"Is the motion seconded?" inquired the President.</p>
+
+<p>"I second the motion," exclaimed Miss Amy Pierce, rapturously.</p>
+
+<p>"It is moved and seconded that we give a reception at the Academy, with
+a programme and refreshments. Are there any remarks?"</p>
+
+<p>I should think there were. Why, they flew about like snow-flakes in a
+hurricane.</p>
+
+<p>"Why in the Academy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why not in somebody's parlor?"</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of a programme?"</p>
+
+<p>"Tableaux would be splendid!"</p>
+
+<p>"Not tableaux! Charades?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why not have a little play? That would be best, and we could all act."</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of refreshments? A regular supper, or lemonade and cake, or
+cake and ice-cream?"</p>
+
+<p>At last it was resolved to carry out the reception idea, and to have a
+little play in which Dot and Dimpsie could be brought in, <a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a>also a very
+magnificent Maltese cat belonging to Patty Curtis, and Miss Muffet's
+parrot. The cat, arrayed in a lace ruff, with a red ribbon, would be an
+imposing figure, and the parrot would look well as one of the
+properties. Miss Muffet herself, in some character, probably as a Yankee
+school-mistress, must be persuaded to appear.</p>
+
+<p>Well, you may imagine what a flutter we were in! We trimmed the old
+Academy with ferns and running pine and great wreaths of golden-rod,
+while feathery clematis was looped and festooned over the windows and
+around the portraits of former teachers, which adorned the walls.</p>
+
+<p>Our play was written for us by Mr. Robert Pierce, Amy's brother, who
+goes to Harvard, and he brought in both our pets, and the cat and
+parrot, and had in ever so many hits which Bloomdale folks could enjoy,
+knowing all about them.</p>
+
+<p>The only thing which interfered with my pleasure was that mother was not
+here, and I had expected her home. I nearly cried into the lemonade, and
+almost blistered the icing of the pound-cake with tears; but seeing
+grandmamma gaze at me with a whole exclamation point in her eyes, I gave
+myself a mental shake, and said, not aloud, but in my mind: "Don't be a
+baby, Milly Van Doren! A big girl like you! Be good! There, now!"</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a>But I was not the most unhappy girl when, just after my part in the
+play was over, I heard a little movement in the audience, and saw a
+stirring as of surprise at the other end of the room.</p>
+
+<p>Who was that? A sweet face in a Quaker bonnet, a white kerchief folded
+primly over a gown of dove-colored satin, a pure plain dress, looking
+very distinguished, for all its simplicity, among the gay toilet of the
+"world's people."</p>
+
+<p>Surely, no&mdash;yes, it was, it could be no one but mother!</p>
+
+<p>I threaded my way through the crowded aisles, gentlemen and ladies
+opening a path for me, and before everybody I was clasped in her dear
+arms. And there was father smiling down at me, and saying, as mother
+told me, to be composed, for I was half crying, half laughing: "Of
+course she'll be composed. I have always said thee could trust our
+little lass."</p>
+
+<p>I squeezed myself into a seat between the two darlings, forgetful that I
+was the President of the Clover Leaf Club; and there I sat till the play
+was over, when something happened that was not on the programme.</p>
+
+<p>A tall shabby form advanced to the front of the room, and mounted the
+stage.</p>
+
+<p>It was Jack Roper! We held our breath. What did this mean?</p>
+
+<p>"I want, fellow-townsmen and ladies,"<a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a> said Jack, with the utmost
+coolness, "to return thanks to the Clover Leaf young ladies for the good
+example they've been a settin' our wives and darters. Them girls is
+trumps!"</p>
+
+<p>Down sat Jack in a storm of applause. This speech, if not elegant, was
+at least sincere.</p>
+
+<p>He was followed by a very different personage. No less a man than Judge
+Curtis arose and gave us a little address, after which Amy Pierce and
+Lois Partridge played a duet on the piano.</p>
+
+<p>Then the refreshments were distributed. There was a merry time talking
+and laughing over the feast, and we all went home. Miss Muffet looked
+radiant, she had so many compliments, and Aunt Hetty, who appeared in
+her stiffest calico, was not backward in accepting some for herself.
+Though what she had done, except try my patience, it was puzzling to us
+to tell.</p>
+
+<p>My precious mother had the very prettiest surprise of all for us when
+her trunks were opened. It is her way to make people happy, and she goes
+through the world like an angel.</p>
+
+<p>For every girl in the club she had brought home a silver pin in the
+shape of a four-leaved clover. "Whether you keep up the club or not,"
+she said, "it will be a pretty souvenir of a very happy summer."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a>I don't know whether I have made mother's way plain to all my readers,
+but I hope they see it is a way of taking pains, of being kind, of being
+honest and diligent, and never doing with one hand what ought to be done
+with both. If I learn to keep house in mother's way I shall be perfectly
+satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>Father says: "Thee certainly may, dear child! For my part, I trust my
+little lass."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="The_Lighthouse_Lamp" id="The_Lighthouse_Lamp"></a>The Lighthouse Lamp.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">The winds came howling down from the north,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Like a hungry wolf for prey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And the bitter sleet went hurtling forth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">In the pallid face of the day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">And the snowflakes drifted near and far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Till the land was whitely fleeced,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And the light-house lamp, a golden star,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Flamed over the waves' white yeast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">In the room at the foot of the light-house<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Lay mother and babe asleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And little maid Gretchen was by them there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">A resolute watch to keep.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">There were only the three on the light-house isle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">But father had trimmed the lamp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And set it burning a weary while<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">In the morning's dusk and damp.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Long before night I'll be back," he said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And his white sail slipped away;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Away and away to the mainland sped,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">But it came not home that day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">The mother stirred on her pillow's space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And moaned in pain and fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Then looked in her little daughter's face<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Through the blur of a starting tear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Darling," she whispered, "it's piercing cold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And the tempest is rough and wild;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And you are no laddie strong and bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">My poor little maiden child.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a></p>
+<span class="i6">"But up aloft there's the lamp to feed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Or its flame will die in the dark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And the sailor lose in his utmost need<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">The light of our islet's ark."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"I'll go," said Gretchen, "a step at a time;<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Why, mother, I'm twelve years old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And steady, and never afraid to climb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And I've learned to do as I'm told."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Then Gretchen up to the top of the tower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Up the icy, smooth-worn stair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Went slowly and surely that very hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">The sleet in her eyes and hair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">She fed the lamp, and she trimmed it well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And its clear light glowed afar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To warn of reefs, and of rocks to tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">This mariner's guiding star.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">And once again when the world awoke<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">In the dawn of a bright new day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">There was joy in the hearts of the fisher folks<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Along the stormy bay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">When the little boats came sailing in<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">All safe and sound to the land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6"><i>To the haven the light had helped them win,</i></span><br />
+<span class="i7"><i>By the aid of a child's brave hand.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="The_Family_Mail-bag" id="The_Family_Mail-bag"></a>The Family Mail-bag.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">by mary joanna porter.</span></h4>
+
+
+<p>The family mail-bag was made of black and white straw arranged in
+checks. It was flat and nearly square, was lined with gray linen and
+fastened at the top with narrow black ribbon. It had two long handles,
+finely made of straw, and these handles Luella and Francis were
+accustomed to grasp when, twice a day regularly, at half-past eight in
+the morning and at half-past three in the afternoon, they went for the
+family mail.</p>
+
+<p>Their instructions were always to go back and forth to the post-office
+without stopping, always to tie the bag securely after putting the mail
+inside, and never to open it after it was thus fastened. They were to
+take turns in carrying the bag, and upon returning to their home were
+always to take it at once to the study of their father, Rev. Mr.
+Robinson.</p>
+
+<p>So important a personage as a public mail-carrier had never been seen in
+the small village in which they lived. In his absence the two children
+performed their service well. At least they always did excepting on one
+unfortunate day, and that is the day of which our story is to tell.</p>
+
+<p>The children went to the office as usual, <a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a>and were quite delighted at
+finding there a registered letter addressed to "Luella and Francis
+Robinson." Luella felt very proud when the postmaster asked her, as the
+elder, to sign the registered receipt.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that for?" asked Francis.</p>
+
+<p>"It's for proof that you've received the letter. You see that a
+registered letter usually contains something valuable."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder what it can be? It's from Aunt Maria. See, her address is
+written on the side of the envelope?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said the postmaster, who was a very good friend of the children.
+"It's certainly from your aunt, and it probably contains something for
+you both, but, you'd better put it in your bag now and tie it up,
+according to your father's wish."</p>
+
+<p>The children obediently acted upon this suggestion and started for home.
+On their way they talked constantly of their letter, trying vainly to
+guess what it might contain.</p>
+
+<p>"It's something small, anyway," said Luella, "for it doesn't seem to
+take any room."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe 'tisn't anything, after all," said Francis.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, it is; for the letter is registered, you know."</p>
+
+<p>So they went on talking and wondering until they had gone about half the
+distance <a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a>toward home. Then they reached a spreading apple tree which
+grew by a fence near the sidewalk, and beneath which was a large stone,
+often used as a resting-place for pedestrians.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's sit down a while," said Francis. "I feel tired; don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but father wouldn't like us to stop."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, he would, if he knew how tired we are. I'm going to rest a
+moment, anyway. That can't be any harm."</p>
+
+<p>Luella allowed herself to follow her brother's example. So they took the
+first step in disobedience.</p>
+
+<p>Next Luella said: "I wonder if we couldn't just unfasten the bag and
+look at that letter again. It's our letter, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, it is. Give me the bag. I'll open it."</p>
+
+<p>Then, without more ado, Francis deliberately opened the bag. Thus the
+second step in wrong-doing was taken.</p>
+
+<p>They examined the letter closely and leisurely, not one minute, but many
+minutes, passing while they were thus engaged. Then Luella said: "I'm
+going to read the letter. It's all the same whether we read it here or
+at home."</p>
+
+<p>It proved to be a very kind letter from Aunt Maria, who had lately made
+them a visit. She concluded by saying: "While I <a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a>was with you I took
+pleasure in noticing your constant obedience. As a sort of reward, I
+enclose for you each a five-dollar gold piece. Please accept the gift
+with my love."</p>
+
+<p>"Where are the gold pieces?" asked Francis, taking the envelope from
+Luella, "Oh! here's one in the corner of this thing. I'll take this; but
+where's the other?"</p>
+
+<p>Where was the other? It was easier to ask the question than to reply.
+The two children folded and unfolded the letter. They turned the
+envelope inside out. They searched through their clothing. They
+inspected the grass and the path. If it had been possible, they would
+have lifted the stone upon which they had been sitting; but that would
+have been an herculean task. At length they reluctantly gave up the
+search and sadly went on their way homeward.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish we hadn't opened the letter," said Luella. "What are we going to
+tell mother and father anyhow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I think we'd better tell them the whole story. Perhaps they'll
+help us look for the other gold piece."</p>
+
+<p>Francis, with the one coin in his hand, naturally took a more hopeful
+view of the situation than his sister did.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps Aunt Maria only put one in the letter," he suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no; she's too careful for that. She <a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a>never makes mistakes," said
+Luella, positively. "I only wish we'd minded. That's all."</p>
+
+<p>Francis echoed the wish in his heart, though he did not repeat it aloud.
+Thus, a repentant couple, they entered the house and the study. Mother
+was upstairs attending to baby, and father was evidently out. The
+brother and sister awaited his return in silence, Luella meanwhile
+grasping the letter, and Francis the single coin.</p>
+
+<p>"What's that you have?" asked Mr. Robinson; "a letter? How did it get
+out of the bag?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's ours," answered Luella, trembling while she spoke. "We&mdash;we&mdash;we&mdash;"
+then she burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me have it," commanded Mr. Robinson.</p>
+
+<p>Luella obeyed, and went on weeping while her father read. Francis wanted
+to cry, too, but he thought it was unmanly, and choked back the tears.</p>
+
+<p>"I need ask you no more questions," said their father. "The truth is
+that I was calling on old Mrs. Brown when you stopped under the apple
+tree, and I saw the whole thing from her window. You don't know how
+sorry I felt when I found that my boy and girl couldn't be trusted. I
+saw that you had lost something, and after you had left I examined the
+grass about the stone <a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a>and found the other gold piece. But I shall have
+to punish you by putting the money away for a whole month. At the end of
+that time I will return it to you, if I find that you are obedient
+meanwhile. I do not intend to be severe, but I think that ordinarily you
+are good children, and I understand how strong the temptation was. Are
+you not sorry that you yielded to it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, we are," exclaimed both children, emphatically.</p>
+
+<p>"And now, what am I going to do about the mail-bag? Can I let you have
+it after this?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father, you can," they both replied once more; and after that they
+were always worthy of their trust.</p>
+
+<p>When Aunt Maria made her next visit they told her the story of their
+misdoing. Her only comment was: "You see, children, that it is necessary
+always to pray, 'Deliver us from evil,' for even when we want to do
+right, without help from above, we shall fail."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="A_Days_Fishing" id="A_Days_Fishing"></a>A Day's Fishing.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">by mary joanna porter.</span></h4>
+
+
+<p>Six lively boys had been spending their vacation at Clovernook Farm,
+and, as any one may imagine, they had been having the liveliest sort of
+a time.</p>
+
+<p>There were Mr. Hobart's two nephews, James and Fred; and Mrs. Hobart's
+two nephews, John and Albert, and two others, Milton and Peter, who,
+though only distant cousins, were considered as part of the family.</p>
+
+<p>To tell of all the things that these six had been doing during the eight
+weeks of their stay would be to write a history in several volumes. They
+had had innumerable games of tennis and croquet; had fished along the
+banks of streams; helped in the harvest field; taken straw-rides by
+moonlight; traveled many scores of miles on bicycles; taken photographs
+good and bad; gone out with picnic parties; learned to churn and to work
+butter; picked apples and eaten them, and they had plenty of energy left
+still.</p>
+
+<p>The climax of their enjoyment was reached on the very last day of their
+visit. Mr. Hobart had promised to take them for a day's fishing on a
+lake about ten miles distant from his house. On this fair September <a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a>day
+he redeemed his promise. A jolly load set out in the gray of the early
+morning, equipped with poles, lines, bait, and provisions enough for the
+day. Having no other way to give vent to their spirits, they sang
+college songs all along the road. Of course, they surprised many an
+early riser by their vigorous rendering of familiar airs. Even cows and
+chickens and horses and pigs gazed at them with wondering eyes, as if to
+say, "Who are these noisy fellows, disturbing our morning meditations?"</p>
+
+<p>As the boys approached the lake they saw a strange-looking object on the
+water. What it might be they could not for a while decide. Certainly it
+was not a boat, and what else could be floating so calmly several feet
+out from the land?</p>
+
+<p>At length their strained eyes solved the mystery. It was a rudely built
+raft with a stool upon it, and upon the stool sat a ragged urchin ten or
+twelve years of age.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha!" shouted the six boys in unison.</p>
+
+<p>"Fine rig you have there!" called one.</p>
+
+<p>"What will you take for your ship?" shouted another.</p>
+
+<p>For all response the stranger simply stared.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't hurt his feelings, boys," said Mr. Hobart kindly, "he's getting
+enjoyment in his own way, and I suspect that it's the best way he knows
+of."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a>Conscious of impoliteness, the boys subsided, and nothing more was
+thought of the stranger for several hours.</p>
+
+<p>About noon, however, as they were resting on the shore, he appeared
+before them with an old cigar box in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Want some crickets and grasshoppers?" he asked timidly. "I've been
+catching them for you, if you want them."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, they are exactly the things we need," replied Mr. Hobart. "How
+much do you want for the lot?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you're welcome to them. I hadn't nothin' else to do."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's what I call returning good for evil. Didn't you hear these
+chaps laugh at you this morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but that's nothin'. I'm used to that sort of thing. Folks has
+laughed at me allus."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we won't laugh at you now. Have some dinner, if you won't have
+any pay."</p>
+
+<p>The boy had refused money, but he could not refuse the tempting
+sandwiches and cakes which were offered to him. His hungry look appealed
+to the hearts of the other boys quite as forcibly as his comical
+attitude had before appealed to their sense of the ludicrous.</p>
+
+<p>Now they shared their dinner with him in most hospitable manner.
+Fortunately Mrs. Hobart was of a generous disposition, and <a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a>had provided
+an abundance of food. Otherwise the picnic baskets might have given out
+with this new demand upon their contents.</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we call you?" said Mr. Hobart to the unexpected guest.</p>
+
+<p>"Sam Smith's my name. I am generally called Sam for short."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Sam, I think you're right down hungry, and I'm glad you happened
+along our way. Where do you live, my boy?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've been a-workin' over there in the farmhouse yonder, but they've got
+through with me, and I'm just a-makin' up my mind where to go next."</p>
+
+<p>"Seems to me you're rather young to earn your own living. Have you no
+father or mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, in the city. But they have seven other boys and it's pretty hard
+work to get along. I'm the oldest, I am, so I try to turn a penny for
+myself. A gentleman got me this place, and paid my way out here, but
+he's gone back to town now. I s'pose he hoped the folks would keep me,
+but they don't need me no longer."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hobart was a man of kindly deeds. More than that, he was a
+Christian. As he stood talking with the stranger lad the words of the
+Master ran through his mind: "The poor ye have with ye always, and
+whensoever ye will ye may do them good."</p>
+
+<p>Certainly here was an opportunity to help <a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a>a friendless boy. It should
+not be thrown away.</p>
+
+<p>"How would you like to engage yourself to me for the fall and winter?
+These boys are all going off to-morrow, and I need a boy about your size
+to run errands and help me with the chores."</p>
+
+<p>"Really? Honest?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, really I do. I want a good boy who will obey me and my wife, and I
+have an idea that you may suit."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try to, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Then jump into that boat and help us fish and I'll take you home with
+me to-night."</p>
+
+<p>Sam cast a farewell glance at his raft, just then floating out of sight.
+He had nothing else to take leave of, and no further arrangements to
+make; no packing to do and no baggage to carry. He had simply himself
+and the few clothes he wore. At evening he went home with Mr. Hobart in
+the most matter-of-course way. When the load of fishermen drew up at the
+barn-door he jumped out and began to unhitch as though that had been his
+lifelong work.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Hobart, coming out to give a welcome to the chattering group,
+appeared rather puzzled as she counted heads in the twilight. Mr. Hobart
+enjoyed the surprise which he had been expecting.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, wife," said he aside, answering her thoughts, "I took out six this
+morning and<a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a> I've brought back seven to-night. We've been for a day's
+fishing, you know, and I rather guess I've caught something more
+valuable than bass or perch, though they're good enough in their way."</p>
+
+<p>"Where did you find him?" asked Mrs. Hobart.</p>
+
+<p>"Sitting on a raft out on the lake."</p>
+
+<p>"He's a poor, homeless fellow, and I reckon that there's room in our
+house for one of Christ's little ones. Isn't that so, wife?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Reuben, it is."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we'll do the best we can for this young chap. I mean to write to
+his parents, for he has given me their address. I think there will be no
+trouble in arranging to have him stay with us. We'll see what we can
+make out of him."</p>
+
+<p>"Reuben, I believe you're always looking out for a chance to do some
+good!"</p>
+
+<p>"That's the way it ought to be, wife."</p>
+
+<p>This conversation took place behind the carryall. None of the boys heard
+it. The six visitors, however, all caught the spirit of benevolence from
+their host. Before departing next day each one had contributed from his
+wardrobe some article of clothing for Sam, and they all showered him
+with good wishes as they left.</p>
+
+<p>"Hope to find you here next summer," they shouted in driving off.</p>
+
+<p>"Hope so," responded Sam.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="Why_Charlie_Didnt_Go" id="Why_Charlie_Didnt_Go"></a>Why Charlie Didn't Go.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.</h4>
+
+
+<p>"Dear me! There come Uncle Josh and Aunt Jane, and not a bed in the
+house is made!" Mrs. Upton glanced nervously at the clock&mdash;then about to
+strike eleven&mdash;surveyed with dismay the disordered kitchen, looked
+through the open door into the dining-room, where the unwashed breakfast
+dishes were yet standing, took her hands out of the dough and ran to
+wash them at the faucet.</p>
+
+<p>"Maria, Maria, stir around. See what you can pick up while they're
+getting out of the cab. Isn't it always just so?"</p>
+
+<p>Maria, the daughter of fifteen, hastily laid aside her novel and did her
+best to remove the cups and saucers from the breakfast table, not
+omitting to break one in her hurry. Meanwhile her mother closed the
+kitchen door, caught up from the dining-room sofa a promiscuous pile of
+hats, coats, rubbers and shawls, threw them into a convenient closet,
+placed the colored cloth on the table and hastened to open the front
+door to admit her guests.</p>
+
+<p>"Come in! Come in! I'm ever so glad <a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a>to see you, but you must take us
+just as we are. Did you come on the train?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and got Jenkins to bring us up from the station. He's to take us
+back at three o'clock this afternoon. We can't make a long visit, but
+we're going to take dinner with you, if it's perfectly convenient."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes! of course. It's always convenient to have you. We don't make
+strangers of you at all."</p>
+
+<p>While Mrs. Upton spoke these hospitable words her heart sank within her
+at the remembrance of her unbaked bread and her neglect to order meat
+for dinner.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, Maria, just help Aunt Jane to take off her wraps, I'll be right
+back."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Upton darted up-stairs, carrying with her a pair of trousers which
+she had been over an hour in mending. For want of them Charlie had been
+unable to go to school that morning. He was reading in his room.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, Charlie! Put these on and run down to the butcher's and get some
+steak, and stop at the baker's and get some rolls and a pie, and tell
+them I'll pay them to-morrow. I don't know where my pocketbook is now."</p>
+
+<p>"Ma," drawled Charlie in reply, "I haven't my shoes up here, only my
+slippers and rubbers."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a>"Well, wear them then and keep out of the mud. I don't want you sick
+to-night. Be sure to come in the back way so that Uncle Josh won't see
+you. He'll think we're always behindhand."</p>
+
+<p>If Uncle Josh had thought so he would have been near the truth. Mrs.
+Upton was one of those unfortunate persons who seem to be always hard at
+work and always in the drag. She had the undesirable faculty of taking
+hold of things wrong end first.</p>
+
+<p>As water does not rise higher than its level, so children are not apt to
+have better habits than their parents. Charlie and Maria and the rest of
+the family lived in a state of constant confusion.</p>
+
+<p>At noon Mr. Upton came to dinner. It was not unusual for him to be
+forced to wait, and he had learned to be resigned; so he sat down
+patiently to talk with the visitors. Soon three children came in from
+school, all eager to eat and return. What with their clamorous demands,
+and the necessity for preparing extra vegetables and side-dishes, and
+anxiety to please all around, and to prevent her bread from growing
+sour, Mrs. Upton was nearly distracted. Yet Maria tried to help, and
+Aunt Jane invariably looked upon matters with the kindly eye of charity.
+Things were not so bad as they might have been, and dinner was ready at
+last.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a>After the meal was over the two visitors found a corner in which to
+hold a conference.</p>
+
+<p>"Wife," said Uncle Josh, "Charlie's too bright a young fellow to be left
+to grow up in this way. Suppose we take him home with us for a while?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's nothing I would like better," responded Aunt Jane, whose
+motherly heart was yet sore with grief for her own little Charlie, who
+had been laid in the church-yard years before.</p>
+
+<p>When Mrs. Upton again emerged from the depths of the kitchen they
+repeated the proposal to her, and gained her assent at once.</p>
+
+<p>Charlie was next to be informed, but that was not an easy matter. The
+boy could nowhere be found.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps he's gone to school," suggested Aunt Jane.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I told him that since he had to be absent this morning he might as
+well be absent all day. He's somewhere about."</p>
+
+<p>A prolonged search ended in the barn, where Charlie at last was found,
+trying to whittle a ruler out of a piece of kindling-wood. He wished to
+draw maps and had mislaid or lost most of the articles necessary for the
+work.</p>
+
+<p>"Charlie!" exclaimed his mother, "Uncle Josh and Aunt Jane want to take
+you home with them for a long visit. We've been looking all over for
+you. I've been putting <a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a>your best clothes in a bag, but you'll have to
+be careful about holding it shut, because I can't find the key. Now
+hurry and dress yourself if you want to go."</p>
+
+<p>Charlie gave a loud whistle of delight and hastened to the house to
+arrange his toilet. He washed his face and hands, brushed his hair, put
+on a clean collar, and then went to the kitchen to blacken his shoes. He
+expected to find them on his feet, but lo! there were only the slippers
+and rubbers, donned in the forenoon and forgotten until now.</p>
+
+<p>"Ma! where are my shoes?" he called in stentorian tones. Mrs. Upton
+replied from above stairs, where she was putting a stitch in her son's
+cap: "I don't know&mdash;haven't seen them."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I left them in the kitchen last night. Here, Maria, help a
+fellow, won't you? I can't find my shoes and it's nearly train time.
+There's Jenkins at the door now."</p>
+
+<p>The united efforts of all present resulted in finding the shoes
+entangled in an afghan which Mrs. Upton had unintentionally placed in
+the heap in the closet when she relieved the sofa of its burden.</p>
+
+<p>"Here they are at last. Bravo!" shouted Charlie. Yet his joy was short
+lived. One shoe wouldn't go on. He had slipped it off on the previous
+night without unfastening.<a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a> There were several knots in the string, and
+all were unmanageable. He struggled breathlessly while Uncle Josh and
+Aunt Jane were getting into the cab, then broke the string in
+desperation just as Jenkins, hearing the car-whistle, drove off to reach
+the train.</p>
+
+<p>"Very sorry! Can't wait another instant!" called out Uncle Josh.
+Charlie, having repaired damages as best he could, reached the front
+door in time to see the back of the carriage away down the street.</p>
+
+<p>"Time and tide wait for no man," observed his mother exasperatingly.
+Perhaps her quotation of the proverb carried with it the weight of her
+experience. Perhaps she thought it her duty to give moral lessons to her
+son, regardless of illustrations.</p>
+
+<p>Charlie's disappointment was rendered bitterer still, when the following
+week there came a letter from Uncle Josh saying that he and Aunt Jane
+were about taking a trip to the West.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell Charlie," said the letter, "that if we only had him with us we
+should certainly take him along."</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it too bad," said Charlie, "to think I've missed so much, and all
+through the want of a shoe-string?"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="Uncle_Giles_Paint_Brush" id="Uncle_Giles_Paint_Brush"></a>Uncle Giles' Paint Brush.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.</h4>
+
+
+<p>It was a rainy day in summer. A chilly wind swept about the house and
+bent the branches of the trees, and reminded every one who encountered
+it that autumn, with its gales, would return as promptly as ever.</p>
+
+<p>A bright fire was blazing in the sitting-room, and near it were Mrs.
+Strong with her two little girls, and also Aunt Martha Bates, whom they
+were visiting. Rufus Strong, aged fourteen, stood by a closed window,
+listlessly drumming on a pane.</p>
+
+<p>He was tired of reading, and tired of watching the ladies sew, and tired
+of building toy houses for his sisters.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I'll go out to the barn and find Uncle Giles," said he at
+length.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Strong, who had found the music on the window pane rather
+monotonous, quickly responded in favor of the plan.</p>
+
+<p>"Just the one I want to see!" exclaimed Uncle Giles, as Rufus made his
+appearance at the barn door. "I'm getting my tools in order, and now you
+can turn the grind-stone while I sharpen this scythe."</p>
+
+<p>Rufus cheerfully agreed to this proposal, and performed his part with a
+hearty good will.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a>"Do you always put your tools in order on rainy days?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, yes; I always look over them and see if they need attention. Then
+when I want them they are ready for use. Now, since this job is done,
+suppose you undertake another. Wouldn't this be a good time to paint
+those boxes for Aunt Martha's flowers? You know you promised to paint
+them for her, and if you do it now, they'll be good and dry when she
+wants to pot her plants in September?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think you believe in preparing for work beforehand, don't you, Uncle
+Giles?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed, that I do. It saves ever so much time when you have any
+work to do to have things all ready. What's the matter, can't you find
+the paint brush?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Uncle, and I'm sure that I saw it in its place not very long ago."</p>
+
+<p>This reminded Uncle Giles that neighbor Jones had borrowed the brush a
+few days previous and had not yet returned it.</p>
+
+<p>"He promised to bring it home that day," said Mr. Bates, "but he's not
+apt to do things promptly. I guess you'll have to step over to his house
+and ask him if he's through with it."</p>
+
+<p>Rufus started off on the errand and soon, returned carrying the brush in
+a small tin pail, half-full of water.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Jones is much obliged to you for the <a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a>use of it," he said to his
+uncle, "and he's sorry that he hasn't had time to wash out the brush."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Bates looked rather annoyed. Accustomed to perfect order himself, he
+was often irritated by the slovenly ways of his neighbor.</p>
+
+<p>"Then there's nothing for you to do but repair damages as well as you
+can. What color of paint is in the brush?"</p>
+
+<p>"Red, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"And you want to use green. You'll have to go to the house and get some
+warm soap-suds and give the brush a thorough washing."</p>
+
+<p>Rufus found that he had plenty of occupation for some time after that.
+The brush was soaked up to the handle in the bright red paint, and it
+was a work of patience to give it the necessary cleaning. Indeed, dinner
+time found him just ready to begin the task which might have been easily
+accomplished in the morning had it not been for that long delay.</p>
+
+<p>After dinner he and Uncle Giles again repaired to the barn, where the
+elder cleaned harness while the younger painted.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I begin to realize," said Rufus, "that your plan of having
+tools ready is a good one."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it's good, no matter what sort of work you're going to do. I
+believe you <a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a>wish to be a minister one of these days, don't you, Rufus?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I think so now, Uncle."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you are getting some of your tools ready when you are studying
+Latin and history and other things in school. And you are getting others
+ready when you read the Bible, and when you study your Sunday-school
+lesson, and when you listen to the preaching of your minister. You need
+to take pains to remember what you learn in these ways, for the good
+things in your memory will be the tools that you will have constant use
+for.</p>
+
+<p>"I know a young man who is now studying for the ministry. I think he
+will succeed, for he is very much in earnest and he has natural ability,
+too. Yet he finds his task rather difficult, because he had no
+opportunity to study when he was younger. He has not been trained to
+think or to remember, and the work he is doing now is something like
+your washing the paint brush this morning. It must all be done before he
+can go on to anything better, and he regrets that it was not done at the
+proper time."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose that the moral for me is to improve my privileges."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that's just it. Improve your privileges by getting ready
+beforehand for the work of life. If the paint brush teaches you this
+lesson, you may be glad that you had to stop to get it clean."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="The_Pied_Piper_of_Hamelin" id="The_Pied_Piper_of_Hamelin"></a>The Pied Piper of Hamelin.</h3>
+
+<p class='center'>(<i>A Child's Story</i>.)</p>
+
+<h4>BY ROBERT BROWNING.</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hamelin Town's in Brunswick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By famous Hanover city;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The river Weser, deep and wide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Washes its wall on the southern side;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A pleasanter spot you never spied;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, when begins my ditty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Almost five hundred years ago,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see the townsfolk suffer so<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From vermin, was a pity.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">II.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">Rats!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They fought the dogs and killed the cats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bit the babies in their cradles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ate the cheeses out of the vats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Split open the kegs of salted sprats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made nests inside men's Sunday hats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And even spoiled the women's chats<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By drowning their speaking<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With shrieking and squeaking<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In fifty different sharps and flats.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">III.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At last the people in a body<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the Town Hall came flocking:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"'Tis clear," cried they, "our Mayor's a noddy:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as for our Corporation&mdash;shocking<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To think we buy gowns lined with ermine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For dolts that can't or won't determine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What's best to rid us of our vermin!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a>You hope, because you're old and obese,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To find in the furry civic robe ease!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rouse up, Sirs! Give your brains a racking<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To find the remedy we're lacking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At this the Mayor and Corporation<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quaked with a mighty consternation.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">IV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An hour they sat in council,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At length the Mayor broke silence:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wish I were a mile hence!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It's easy to bid one rack one's brain&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'm sure my poor head aches again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I've scratched it so, and all in vain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just as he said this, what should hap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the chamber door, but a gentle tap!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Bless us," cried the Mayor, "what's that?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(With the Corporation as he sat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Looking little though wondrous fat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than a too-long-opened oyster,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For a plate of turtle green and glutinous).<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Only a scraping of shoes on the mat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Anything like the sound of a rat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">V.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Come in!" the Mayor cried, looking bigger:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in did come the strangest figure!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His queer long coat from heel to head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was half of yellow and half of red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he himself was tall and thin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No tuft on cheek, nor beard on chin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a>But lips where smiles went out and in;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There was no guessing his kith and kin!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nobody could enough admire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tall man and his quaint attire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth one: "It's as if my great-grandsire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Starting up at the trump of Doom's tone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">VI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He advanced to the council-table:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And "Please your honors," said he, "I'm able,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By means of a secret charm, to draw<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All creatures living beneath the sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That creep, or swim, or fly, or run<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">After me so as you never saw!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I chiefly use my charm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On creatures that do people harm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mole and toad and newt and viper;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And people call me the Pied Piper."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(And here they noticed round his neck<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A scarf of red and yellow stripe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To match with his coat of the self-same cheque;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at the scarf's end hung a pipe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if impatient to be playing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon his pipe, as low it dangled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over his vesture so old-fangled.)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Yet," said he, "poor piper as I am,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In Tartary I freed the Cham,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I eased in Asia the Nizam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as for what your brain bewilders,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If I can rid your town of rats<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will you give me a thousand guilders?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"One? Fifty thousand!" was the exclamation<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">VII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Into the street the Piper stept,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smiling first a little smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if he knew what magic slept<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In his quiet pipe the while;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, like a musical adept,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ere three shrill notes the pipe had uttered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You heard as if an army muttered;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the muttering grew to a grumbling;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And out of the houses the rats came tumbling&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cocking tails and pricking whiskers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Families by tens and dozens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Followed the Piper for their lives.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From street to street he piped, advancing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And step for step they followed dancing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until they came to the river Weser<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherein all plunged and perished,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save one who, stout as Julius C&aelig;sar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swam across and lived to carry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(As <i>he</i>, the manuscript he cherished)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Rat-land home his commentary:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which was, "At the first shrill notes of the pipe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I heard a sound as of scraping tripe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And putting apples, wondrous ripe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into a cider-press's gripe:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a moving away of pickle-tub boards,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a leaving ajar of conserve cupboards<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a breaking the hoops of butter casks:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a>And it seemed as if a voice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is breathed) called out, 'Oh, rats, rejoice!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The world is grown to one vast drysaltery!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All ready staved, like a great sun shone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Glorious scarce an inch before me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just as methought it said, 'Come bore me!'&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I found the Weser rolling o'er me."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">VIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You should have heard the Hamelin people<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Go," cried the Mayor, "and get long poles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poke out the nests and block up the holes!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Consult with carpenters and builders,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leave in our town not even a trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the rats!"&mdash;when suddenly, up the face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the Piper perked in the market-place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a&mdash;"First, if you please, my thousand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">guilders!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">IX.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So did the Corporation too.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For council dinners made rare havoc<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And half the money would replenish<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To pay this sum to a wandering fellow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a gypsy coat of red and yellow!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Beside," quoth the Mayor, with a knowing wink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Our business was done at the river's brink;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We saw with our eyes the vermin sink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what's dead can't come to life, I think.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the duty of giving you something for drink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a>And a matter of money to put into your poke;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as for the guilders, what we spoke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beside, our losses have made us thrifty:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">X.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Piper's face fell, and he cried,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"No trifling! I can't wait, beside!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I've promised to visit by dinner-time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bagdad, and accept the prime<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the head-cook's pottage, all he's rich in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For having left, in the caliph's kitchen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of a nest of scorpions, no survivor:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With him I proved no bargain-driver,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And folks who put me in a passion<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May find me pipe to another fashion."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"How?" cried the Mayor, "d'ye think I'll brook<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Being worse treated than a cook?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Insulted by a lazy ribald<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With idle pipe and vesture piebald?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blow your pipe there till you burst!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Once more he stept into the street,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to his lips again<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ere he blew three notes (such sweet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soft notes as yet musician's cunning<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never gave the enraptured air)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a>And, like fowls in a farmyard when barley is scattering,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out came the children running.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the little boys and girls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tripping and skipping ran merrily after<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if they were changed into blocks of wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unable to move a step, or cry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the children merrily skipping by&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&mdash;Could only follow with the eye<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That joyous crowd at the Piper's back.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now the Mayor was on the rack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the wretched Council's bosoms beat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the Piper turned from the High Street<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To where the Weser rolled its waters<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Right in the way of their sons and daughters!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">However he turned from south to west,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And after him the children pressed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great was the joy in every breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"He never can cross that mighty top!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He's forced to let the piping drop,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we shall see our children stop!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When, lo, as they reached the mountain-side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A wondrous portal opened wide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the Piper advanced and the children followed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when all were in to the very last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The door in the mountain-side shut fast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did I say, all? No! One was lame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And could not dance the whole of the way;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in after years, if you would blame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His sadness, he was used to say,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a>"It's dull in our town since my playmates left!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I can't forget that I'm bereft<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all the pleasant sights they see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which the Piper also promised me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he led us, he said, to a joyous land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Joining the town and just at hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flowers put forth a fairer hue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And everything was strange and new;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And their dogs outran our fallow deer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And honey-bees had lost their stings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And horses were born with eagles' wings:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And just as I became assured<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My lame foot would be speedily cured,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The music stopped and I stood still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And found myself outside the hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Left alone against my will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To go now limping as before;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And never hear of that country more!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XIV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Alas, alas for Hamelin!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There came into many a burgher's pate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A text which says that heaven's gate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Opes to the rich at as easy rate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the needle's eye takes a camel in!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Mayor sent East, West, North and South,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To offer the Piper, by word of mouth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherever it was man's lot to find him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Silver and gold to his heart's content,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he'd only return the way he went,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bring the children behind him.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Piper and dancers were gone forever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They made a decree that lawyers never<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should think their records dated duly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If, after the day of the month and year,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These words did not as well appear:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"And so long after what happened here<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the twenty-second of July,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a>Thirteen hundred and seventy-six:"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the better in memory to fix<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The place of the children's last retreat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They called it the Pied Piper's Street&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where any one playing on pipe or tabor<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was sure for the future to lose his labor.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To shock with mirth a street so solemn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But opposite the place of the cavern<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They wrote the story on a column,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on the great church-window painted<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The same, to make the world acquainted<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How their children were stolen away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there it stands to this very day.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I must not omit to say<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That in Transylvania there's a tribe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of alien people that ascribe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The outlandish ways and dress<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On which their neighbors lay such stress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To their fathers and mothers having risen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of some subterraneous prison<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into which they were trepanned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long time ago in a mighty band<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But how or why, they don't understand.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So, Willy, let me and you be wipers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of scores out with all men&mdash;especially pipers!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="A_Girl_Graduate" id="A_Girl_Graduate"></a>A Girl Graduate.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY CYNTHIA BARNARD.</h4>
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+
+<p>It was examination week at Mount Seward College, but most of the work
+was over, and the students were waiting in the usual fever of anxiety to
+learn the verdict on their papers, representing so much toil and pains.
+Some of the girls were nearly as much concerned about their graduating
+gowns as about their diplomas, but as independence was in the air at
+Mount Seward, these rather frivolous girls were in the minority. During
+term time most of the students wore the regulation cap and gown, and
+partly owing to the fact that Mount Seward was a college with traditions
+of plain living and high thinking behind it, and partly because the
+youngest and best-loved professor was a woman of rare and noble
+characteristics, a woman who had set her own stamp on her pupils, and
+furnished them an ideal, dress and fashion were secondary considerations
+here. There were no low emulations at Mount Seward.</p>
+
+<p>A group of girls in a bay-window over-looking the campus were discussing
+the <a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a>coming commencement. From various rooms came the steady, patient
+sound of pianos played for practice. On the green lawn in front of the
+president's cottage two or three intellectual looking professors and
+tutors walked up and down, evidently discussing an affair that
+interested them.</p>
+
+<p>The postman strolled over the campus wearily, as who should say, "This
+is my last round, and the bag is abominably heavy."</p>
+
+<p>He disappeared within a side door, and presently there was a hurrying
+and scurrying of fresh-faced young women, bright-eyed and blooming under
+the mortar-caps, jauntily perched over their braids and ringlets,
+rushing toward that objective point, the college post-office. One would
+have fancied that letters came very seldom, to see their excitement.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret Lee received two letters. She did not open either in the
+presence of her friends, but went with a swift step and a heightened
+color to her own suite of rooms. Two small alcoves, curtained off from a
+pleasant little central sitting-room, composed the apartment Margaret
+shared with her four years' chum Alice Raynor. Alice was not there, yet
+Margaret did not seat herself in the room common to both, but entered
+her own alcove, drew the portiere, and sat down on the edge of the iron
+bed, not larger than <a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a>a soldier's camp cot. It was an austere little
+cell, simple as a nun's, with the light falling from one narrow window
+on the pale face and brown hair of the young girl, to whom the unopened
+letters in her hand signified so much.</p>
+
+<p>Which should she read first? One, in a large square envelope, addressed
+in a bold, business-like hand, bore a Western postmark, and had the
+printed order to return, if not delivered in ten days, to Hilox
+University, Colorado. The other, in a cramped, old-fashioned hand, bore
+the postmark of a hamlet in West Virginia. It was a thin letter,
+evidently belonging to the genus domestic correspondence, a letter from
+Margaret's home.</p>
+
+<p>Which should she open first? There was an evident struggle, and a
+perceptible hesitation. Then she laid the home letter resolutely down on
+the pillow of her bed, and, with a hair-pin, that woman's tool which
+suits so many uses, delicately and dexterously cut the envelope of the
+letter from Hilox. It began formally, and was very brief:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Miss Lee</span>:&mdash;The trustees and faculty of Hilox
+University have been looking for a woman, a recent graduate of
+distinction from some well-established Eastern college, to take the
+chair of Greek in our new institution. You have been recommended as
+thoroughly qualified for the position. The salary is not at present
+large, but our university is growing, <a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a>and we offer a tempting
+field to an energetic and ambitious woman. May we write you more
+fully on the subject, if you are inclined to take our vacancy into
+your favorable consideration?</p>
+
+<p class='author'>"Very respectfully yours."</p></div>
+
+<p>Then followed the signature of the president of Hilox, a man whose name
+and fame were familiar to Margaret Lee.</p>
+
+<p>The girl's cheek glowed; her dark eyes deepened; a look of power and
+purpose settled upon the sweet full lips. For this she had studied
+relentlessly; to this end she had looked; with this in view her four
+years' course had been pursued with pluck and determination. The picture
+of Joanna Baker, as young as herself, climbing easily to the topmost
+round of the ladder, had fired and stimulated <i>her</i>, and she had allowed
+it to be known that her life was dedicated to learning, and by-and-by to
+teaching.</p>
+
+<p>All the faculty at Mount Seward knew her aspirations, and several of the
+professors had promised their aid in securing her a position, but she
+had not expected anything of this kind so soon.</p>
+
+<p>Why, her diploma would not be hers until next week! Surely there must be
+some benignant angel at work in her behalf. But&mdash;Hilox? Had she ever met
+any one from Hilox?</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the light went out of the ardent face, and a frown crinkled the
+smooth fair<a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a>ness of her brow. This, then, <i>he</i> had dared to do!</p>
+
+<p>Memory recalled an episode two years back, and half-forgotten. Margaret
+had been spending her vacation at home in the West Virginia mountains,
+and a man had fallen in love with her. There was nothing remarkable in
+this, for a beautiful girl of seventeen, graceful, dignified,
+accomplished, and enthusiastic, is a very lovable creature. A visiting
+stranger in the village, the minister's cousin, had been much at her
+father's house, had walked and boated with her, and shared her rides
+over the hills, both on sure-footed mountain ponies. As a friend
+Margaret had liked Dr. Angus, as a comrade had found him delightful, but
+her heart had not been touched. What had she, with her Greek
+professorate looming up like a star in mid-heaven before her&mdash;what had
+she to do with love and a lover? She had managed to make Dr. Angus know
+this before he had quite committed himself by a proposal; but she had
+understood what was in his thought, and she knew that he knew that she
+knew all about it. And Dr. Angus had remained and settled down as a
+practitioner in the little mountain town. The town had a future before
+it, for two railroads were already projected to cross it, and there were
+coal mines in the neighborhood, and, altogether, a man might do worse
+<a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a>than drive his roots into this soil. She had heard now and then of Dr.
+Angus since that summer&mdash;her last vacation had been passed with cousins
+in New England&mdash;and he was said to be courting a Mrs. Murray, a rich and
+charming neighbor of her father's.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Angus had friends in Colorado. Now she remembered he had a relative
+who had helped to found Hilox, and had endowed a chair of languages or
+literature; she was not certain which. So it must be to <i>him</i> she was
+indebted, and, oddly, she was more indignant than grateful. The natural
+intervention of a friendly hand in the matter took all the satisfaction
+out of her surprise.</p>
+
+<p>Not that she loved Dr. Angus! But she did not choose to be under an
+obligation to him. What girl would in the circumstances?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>II.</h3>
+
+
+<p>All this time the letter from home lay overlooked on the pillow. If it
+could have spoken it would have reproached the daughter for her
+absorption in its companion, but it bided its time. Presently Margaret
+turned with a start, saw it, felt a remorseful stab, and tore it open,
+without the aid of a hair-pin.</p>
+
+<p>This is what the home letter had to say. It was from Margaret's father,
+and as he <a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a>seldom wrote to her, leaving, as many men do, the bulk of
+correspondence with absent members of the family to be the care of his
+wife and children, she felt a premonitory thrill.</p>
+
+<p>The Lees were a very affectionate and devoted household, clannish to a
+degree, and undemonstrative, as mountaineers often are. The deep well of
+their love did not foam and ripple like a brook, but the water was
+always there, to draw upon at will. "The shallows murmur, but the deeps
+are dumb." It was so in the house of Duncan Lee.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Daughter Margaret</span>" (the letter began),&mdash;"I hope
+these lines will find you well, and your examination crowned with
+success. We have thought and talked of you much lately, and wished
+we could be with you to see you when you are graduated. Mother
+would have been so glad to go, but it is my sad duty to inform you
+that she is not well. Do not be anxious, Margaret. There is no
+immediate danger, but your dear mother has been more or less ailing
+ever since last March, and she does not get better. We fear there
+will have to be a surgical operation&mdash;perhaps more than one. She
+may have to live, as people sometimes do, for years with a knife
+always over her head. We want you to come home, Margaret, as soon
+as you can. I enclose a check for all expenses, and I will see that
+you are met at the railway terminus, so you need not take the long
+stage-ride all by yourself. But I am afraid I have not broken it to
+you gently, my dear, as mother said I must. Forgive me; I am just
+breaking my heart in these days, and I need you as much almost as
+your mother does.</p>
+
+<p class='author'>"Your loving father, "<span class="smcap">Duncan Lee</span>." </p></div>
+
+<p><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a>A vision rose before Margaret, as with tear-blurred eyes she folded her
+father's letter and replaced it in its cover. She brushed the tears away
+and looked at the date. Four days ago the letter had been posted. Her
+home, an old homestead in a valley that nestled deep and sweet in the
+heart of the grand mountain range, guarding it on every side, rose
+before her. She saw her father, grizzled, stooping-shouldered,
+care-worn, old-fashioned in dress, precise in manner, a gentleman of the
+old school, a man who had never had much money, but who had sent his
+five sons and his one daughter to college, giving them, what the Lees
+prized most in life, a liberal education. She saw her mother, thin,
+fair, tall, with the golden hair that would fade but would never turn
+gray, the blue child-like eyes, the wistful mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother!" she gasped, "mother!"</p>
+
+<p>The horror of the malady that had seized on the beautiful, dainty,
+lovely woman, so like a princess in her bearing, so notable in her
+housewifery, so neighborly, so maternal, swept over her in a hot tide,
+retreated, leaving her shivering.</p>
+
+<p>"I must go home," she said, "and at once!" With feet that seemed to her
+weighted with lead she went straight to the room of the Dean, knowing
+that in that gracious woman's spirit there would be <a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a>instant
+comprehension, and that she would receive wise advice.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear!" said the Dean, "you have heard from Hilox, haven't you? We
+are so proud of you; we want you to represent our college and our
+culture there. It is a magnificent opportunity, Margaret."</p>
+
+<p>The Dean was very short-sighted, and she did not catch at first the look
+on Margaret's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she answered, in a voice that sounded muffled and lifeless, "I
+have heard from Hilox; I had almost forgotten, but I must answer the
+letter. Dear Mrs. Wade, I have heard from home, too. My mother is very
+ill, and she needs me. I must go at once&mdash;to-morrow morning. I cannot
+wait for Commencement."</p>
+
+<p>The Dean asked for further information. Then she urged that Margaret
+should wait over the annual great occasion; so much was due the college,
+she thought, and she pointed out the fact that Mr. Lee had not asked her
+to leave until the exercises were over.</p>
+
+<p>But Margaret had only one reply: "My mother needs me; I must go!"</p>
+
+<p>A week later, at sunset, the old lumbering stage, rolling over the steep
+hills and the smooth dales drew up at Margaret's home. Tired, but with a
+steadfast light in her eyes, the girl stepped down, received her
+father's <a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a>kiss, and went straight to her mother, waiting in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad&mdash;glad you have come, my darling!" said the mother. "While you
+are here I can give everything up. But, my love, this is not what we
+planned!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, my dearest," said the girl, "but that is of no consequence. I wish
+I had known sooner how much, how very much, I was wanted at home!"</p>
+
+<p>"But you will not be a Professor of Greek!" said the mother that night.
+It was all arranged for the operation, which was to take place in a
+week's time, the surgeons to come from the nearest town. The mother was
+brave, gay, heroic. Margaret looked at her, wondering that one under the
+shadow of death could laugh and talk so brightly.</p>
+
+<p>"No. I will be something better," she said, tenderly. "I will be your
+nurse, your comfort if I can. If I had only known, there are many things
+better than Greek that I might have learned!"</p>
+
+<p>Hilox did not get its Greek professor, but the culture of Mount Seward
+was not wasted. Mrs. Lee lived years, often in anguish unspeakable,
+relieved by intervals of peace and freedom from pain. The daughter
+became almost the mother in their intercourse as time passed, and the
+bloom on her cheek paled sooner than on her mother's <a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a>in the depth of
+her sympathy. But the end came at last, and the suffering life went out
+with a soft sigh, as a child falls asleep.</p>
+
+<p>On a little shelf in Margaret's room her old text-books, seldom opened,
+are souvenirs of her busy life at college. Her hand has learned the
+cunning which concocts dainty dishes and lucent jellies; her
+housekeeping and her hospitality are famous. She is a bright talker,
+witty, charming, with the soft inflections which make the vibrant
+tunefulness of the Virginian woman's voice so tender and sweet a thing
+in the ear. Mount Seward is to her the Mecca of memory. If ever she has
+a daughter she will send her there, and&mdash;who knows?&mdash;that girl may be
+professor at Hilox.</p>
+
+<p>For though Margaret is not absent from her own household, she is not
+long to be Margaret Lee. The wedding-cake is made, and is growing rich
+and firm as it awaits the day when the bride will cut it. The
+wedding-gown is ordered. Dr. Angus has proposed at last; he had never
+thought of wooing or winning any one except the fair girl who caught his
+fancy and his heart ten years ago, and when Margaret next visits her New
+England relations it will be to present her husband.</p>
+
+<p>The professor, who had been her most dearly beloved friend during those
+happy college days, her confidante and model, <a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a>said to one who recalled
+Margaret Lee and spoke of her as "a great disappointment, my dear:"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we expected her to make a reputation for herself and Mount Seward.
+She has done better. She has been enabled to do her duty in the station
+to which it has pleased God to call her&mdash;a good thing for any girl
+graduate, it seems to me."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="A_Christmas_Frolic" id="A_Christmas_Frolic"></a>A Christmas Frolic.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY MRS. M.E. SANGSTER.</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">We had gone to the forest for holly and pine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And gathered our arms full of cedar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And home we came skipping, our garlands to twine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">With Marcus, the bold, for our leader.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">The dear Mother said we might fix up the place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And ask all the friends to a party;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">So joy, you may fancy, illumined each face<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And our manners were cordial and hearty.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">But whom should we have? There were Sally and Fred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And Martha and Luke and Leander;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">There was Jack, a small boy with a frowsy red head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And the look of an old salamander.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">There was Dickie, who went to a college up town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And Archie, who worked for the neighbors;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">There were Timothy Parsons and Anthony Brown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Old fellows, of street-cleaning labors.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">And then sister had friends like the lilies so fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Sweet girls with white hands and soft glances;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">At a frolic of ours these girls must be there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Dear Mildred and Gladys and Frances.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">At Christmas, my darlings, leave nobody out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">'Tis the feast of the dear Elder Brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Who came to this world to bring freedom about,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And whose motto is "Love one another."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a></p>
+<span class="i6">When the angels proclaimed Him in Judea's sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">They sang out His wonderful story,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And peace and good will did they bring from on high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And the keystone of all laid with glory.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">A frolic at Christmas must needs know not change<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Of fortune, or richer or poorer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">If any one comes who is lonesome and strange,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Why, just make his welcome the surer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">We invited our friends and we dressed up the room<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Till it looked like a wonderful bower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">With starry bright tapers, and flowers in bloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And a tree with white popcorn a-shower.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">And presents and presents, for every one there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">In stockings, and bags full of candy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And old Santa Claus (Uncle William) was fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And&mdash;I tell you, our tree was a dandy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Then, when nine o'clock struck, and the frolic and fun<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Had risen almost to their highest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And pleasure was beaming, and every one<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Was happy, from bravest to shyest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Our dear Mother went to the organ and played<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">A carol so sweet and so tender;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">We prayed while we sang, and we sang as we prayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">To Jesus, our Prince and Defender.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Oh! Jesus, who came as a Babe to the earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Who slept 'mid the kine, in a manger;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Oh! Jesus, our Lord, in whose heavenly birth<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Is pledge of our ransom from danger.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Strong Son of the Father, divine from of old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And Son of the race, child of woman;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Increasing in might as the ages unfold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Redeemer, our God, and yet human.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a></p>
+<span class="i6">We sang to His Name, and we stood in a band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Each pledged for the Master wholly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To work heart to heart, and to work hand to hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">In behalf of the outcast and lowly.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Then we said "Merry Christmas" once more and we went<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Away from the holly and cedar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And home we all scattered, quite glad and content,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And henceforward our Lord is our Leader.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="Archies_Vacation" id="Archies_Vacation"></a>Archie's Vacation.<a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a></h3>
+
+<h4>BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.</h4>
+
+
+<p>"Papa has come," shouted Archie Conwood, as he rushed down stairs two
+steps at a time, with his sisters Minnie and Katy following close
+behind, and mamma bringing up the rear. Papa had been to Cousin
+Faraton's to see if he could engage summer board for the family.</p>
+
+<p>Cousin Faraton lived in a pleasant village about a hundred miles distant
+from the city in which Mr. and Mrs. Conwood were living. They had agreed
+that to board with him would insure a pleasant vacation for all.</p>
+
+<p>Papa brought a good report. Everything had been favorably arranged.</p>
+
+<p>"And what do you think!" he asked, in concluding his narrative. "Cousin
+Faraton has persuaded me to buy a bicycle for you, Archie. He thought it
+would be quite delightful for you and your Cousin Samuel to ride about
+on their fine roads together. So I stopped and ordered one on my way
+home."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you dear, good papa?" exclaimed Archie, "do let me give you a hug."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure it's healthful exercise?" asked Mrs. Conwood, rather
+timidly. After <a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a>the way of mothers, she was anxious for the health of
+her son.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing could be better, if taken in moderation," Mr. Conwood
+positively replied, thus setting his wife's fears at rest.</p>
+
+<p>The order for the bicycle was promptly filled, and Archie had some
+opportunity of using it before going to the country. When the day for
+leaving town arrived, he was naturally more interested in the safe
+carrying of what he called his "machine" than in anything else connected
+with the journey.</p>
+
+<p>He succeeded in taking it to Cousin Faraton's uninjured, and was much
+pleased to find that it met with the entire approbation of Samuel, whose
+opinion, as he was two years older than himself, was considered most
+important.</p>
+
+<p>The two boys immediately planned a short excursion for the following
+day, and obtained the consent of their parents.</p>
+
+<p>Breakfast next morning was scarcely over when they made their start. The
+sunshine was bright, the sky was cloudless; they were well and strong.
+Everything promised the pleasantest sort of a day. Yet, alas! for all
+human hopes. Who can tell what sudden disappointment a moment may bring?</p>
+
+<p>The cousins had just disappeared from view of the group assembled on the
+piazza to see them start, when Samuel came back in breathless haste,
+exclaiming:</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a>"Archie has fallen, and I think he's hurt."</p>
+
+<p>The two fathers ran at full speed to the spot where Archie was, and
+found him pale and almost fainting by the roadside. They picked him up
+and carried him tenderly back to the house, while Samuel hurried off for
+the village doctor. Fortunately he found him in his carriage about
+setting forth on his morning round and quite ready to drive at a rapid
+rate to the scene of the accident.</p>
+
+<p>The first thing to be done was to administer a restorative, for Archie
+had had a severe shock. The next thing was an examination, which
+resulted in the announcement of a broken leg.</p>
+
+<p>Surely there was an end to all plans for a pleasant vacation.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor might be kind, sympathetic and skillful, as indeed he was.
+The other children might unite in trying to entertain their injured
+playfellow. They might bring him flowers without number, and relate to
+him their various adventures, and read him their most interesting
+story-books&mdash;all this they did. Mother might be tireless in her
+devotion, trying day and night to make him forget the pain&mdash;what mother
+would not have done all in her power?</p>
+
+<p>Still there was no escape from the actual suffering, no relief from the
+long six weeks' imprisonment; while outside the birds were singing and
+the summer breezes playing in <a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a>ever so many delightful places that might
+have been visited had it not been for that broken leg.</p>
+
+<p>Archie tried to be brave and cheerful, and to conceal from every one the
+tears which would sometimes force their way to his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>He endeavored to interest himself in the amusements which were within
+his reach, and he succeeded admirably. Yet the fact remained that he was
+having a sadly tedious vacation.</p>
+
+<p>The kind-hearted doctor often entertained him by telling of his
+experiences while surgeon in a hospital during the war.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know," he said one day in the midst of a story, "that the men
+who had been bravest on the field of battle were most patient in bearing
+suffering? They showed what we call fortitude, and bravery and fortitude
+go hand in hand."</p>
+
+<p>This was an encouraging thought to Archie, for he resolved to show that
+he could endure suffering as well as any soldier. Another thing that
+helped him very much was the fact, of which his mother reminded him,
+that by trying to be patient he was doing what he could, to please the
+Lord Jesus.</p>
+
+<p>"It was He," she said, "who allowed this trial to come to you, because
+He saw that through it you might grow to be a better and a nobler boy.
+And you will be <a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a>growing better every day by simply trying to be
+patient, as I see you do."</p>
+
+<p>"I want to be, mamma," Archie answered; "and there's another thing about
+this broken leg, I think it will teach me to care more when other people
+are sick."</p>
+
+<p>"No doubt it will, Archie, and if you learn to exercise patience and
+sympathy, your vacation will not be lost, after all."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="A_Birthday_Story" id="A_Birthday_Story"></a>A Birthday Story.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY MRS. M.E. SANGSTER.</h4>
+
+
+<p>Jack Hillyard turned over in his hand the few bits of silver which he
+had taken from his little tin savings-bank. There were not very many of
+them, a ten cent piece, a quarter, half a dollar and an old silver
+six-pence. And he had been saving them up a long, long time.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Jack to himself, soberly, "there aren't enough to buy
+mother a silk dress, but I think I'll ask Cousin Susy, if she won't
+spend my money and get up a birthday party for the darling little
+mother. A birthday cake, with, let me see, thirty-six candles, that'll
+be a lot, three rows deep, and a big bunch of flowers, and a book.
+Mother's never had a birthday party that I remember. She's always been
+so awfully busy working hard for us, and so awfully tired when night
+came, but I mean her to have one now, or my name's not Jack."</p>
+
+<p>Away went Jack to consult Cousin Susy.</p>
+
+<p>He found her very much occupied with her dressmaking, for she made new
+gowns and capes for all the ladies in town, and she was finishing up
+Miss Kitty Hardy's wedding outfit. With her mouth full of pins, Cousin
+Susy could not talk, but her brown eyes <a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a>beamed on Jack as she listened
+to his plan. At last she took all the pins out of her mouth, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Leave it all to me, Jack. We'll give her a surprise party; I'll see
+about everything, dear. Whom shall we ask?"</p>
+
+<p>"When thou makest a dinner or a supper," said Jack, repeating his golden
+text of the last Sunday's lesson, "call not thy friends, nor thy
+kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbors, lest they also bid thee again and a
+recompense be made thee. But when thou makest a feast, call the poor,
+the maimed, the lame, the blind, and thou shalt be blessed, for they
+cannot recompense thee."</p>
+
+<p>"Jack! Jack! Jack!" exclaimed Cousin Susy.</p>
+
+<p>"I was only repeating my last golden text," answered Jack. "We don't
+often have to give a feast, and as it was so extraordinary," said Jack,
+saying the big word impressively, "I thought of my verse. I suppose we'd
+better ask the people mother likes, and they are the poor, the halt, the
+blind, and the deaf; for we haven't any rich neighbors, nor any kinsmen,
+except you, dear Cousin Susy."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm a kinswoman and a neighbor, dear, but I'm not rich. Now, let
+me see," said Miss Susy, smoothing out the shining white folds of Kitty
+Hardy's train. "We will send notes, and you must write them.<a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a> There is
+old Ralph, the peddler, who is too deaf to hear if you shout at him ever
+and ever so much, but he'll enjoy seeing a good time; and we'll have
+Florrie Maynard, with her crutches and her banjo, and she'll have a
+happy time and sing for us; and Mrs. Maloney, the laundress, with her
+blind Patsy. I don't see Jackie, but you'll have a Scripture party after
+all. Run along and write your letters, and to-night we'll trot around
+and deliver them."</p>
+
+<p>This was the letter Jack wrote:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Friend</span>:&mdash;My mother's going to have a birthday next
+Saturday night, and she'll be thirty-six years old. That's pretty
+old. So I'm going to give her a surprise birthday party, and Cousin
+Susy's helping me with the surprise. Please come and help too, at
+eight o'clock sharp.</p>
+
+<p class='center'>"Yours truly,</p>
+<p class='author'>"<span class="smcap">Jack</span>".</p></div>
+
+<p>When this note was received everybody decided to go, and, which Jack did
+not expect, everybody decided to take a present along.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll spend all my money, won't you?" said Jack.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, my boy, I will, every penny. Except, perhaps, the old silver
+sixpence. Suppose we give that to the mother as a keepsake?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, you know best. All I want is that she shall have a good
+time, a very good time. She's such a good mother."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a>"Jack," said Susy, "you make me think of some verses I saw in a book
+the other day. Let me read them to you." And Cousin Susy, who had a way
+of copying favorite poems and keeping them, fished out this one from her
+basket:</p>
+
+<h4>LITTLE HANS.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">Little Hans was helping mother<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Carry home the lady's basket;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Chubby hands of course were lifting<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">One great handle&mdash;can you ask it?<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">As he tugged away beside her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Feeling oh! so brave and strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Little Hans was softly singing<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">To himself a little song:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">"Some time I'll be tall as father,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Though I think it's very funny,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And I'll work and build big houses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">And give mother all the money,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">For," and little Hans stopped singing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Feeling oh! so strong and grand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">"I have got the sweetest mother<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">You can find in all the land."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Now, some people couldn't do very much with the funds at Cousin Susy's
+disposal, but she could, and when Jack's money was spent for
+refreshments what do you think they had? Why, a great big pan of
+gingerbread, all marked out in squares with the knife, and raisins in
+it; and a round loaf of cup cake, frosted over with sugar, with
+thirty-six tiny tapers all ready to light, and <a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a>a pitcher of lemonade, a
+plate of apples, and a big platter of popped corn.</p>
+
+<p>Jack danced for joy, but softly, for mother had come home from her day's
+work and was tired, and the party was to be a surprise, and she was not
+to be allowed to step into the little square parlor.</p>
+
+<p>That parlor was the pride of Jack and his mother. It had a bright rag
+carpet, a table with a marble top, six chairs, and a stool called an
+ottoman. On the wall between the windows hung a framed picture of Jack's
+dear father, who was in heaven, and over the mantelpiece there was a
+framed bouquet of flowers, embroidered by Jack's mother on white satin,
+when she had been a girl at school.</p>
+
+<p>"Seems to me, Jack," said Mrs. Hillyard as she sat down in the kitchen
+to her cup of tea, "there is a smell of fresh gingerbread; I wonder
+who's having company."</p>
+
+<p>Jack almost bit his tongue trying not to laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" said he grandly, "gingerbread isn't anything, mamma. When I'm a
+man you shall have pound-cake every day for breakfast."</p>
+
+<p>By and by Mrs. Maloney and Patsy dropped in.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought," said Mrs. Maloney, "it was kind o'lonesome-like at home,
+and I'd step in and see you and Jack to-night, ma'am."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a>"That was very kind," replied Mrs. Hillyard.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, here comes Mr. Ralph," she added. "Well the more the merrier!"</p>
+
+<p>Tap, tap, tap.</p>
+
+<p>The neighbors kept coming, and coming, and Jack grew more and more
+excited, till at last when all were present, Cousin Susy, opening the
+parlor door, displayed the marble-top of the table covered with a white
+cloth, and there were the refreshments.</p>
+
+<p>"A happy birthday, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Many returns."</p>
+
+<p>"May you live a hundred years."</p>
+
+<p>One and another had some kind word to say, and each gave a present, a
+card, or a flower, or a trifle of some sort, but with so much good will
+and love that Mrs. Hillyard's face beamed. All day she stood behind a
+counter in a great big shop, and worked hard for her bread and Jack's,
+but when evening came she was a queen at home with her boy and her
+friends to pay her honor.</p>
+
+<p>"And were you surprised, and did you like the cake and the thirty-six
+candles, dearest, darling mamma?" said Jack, when everybody had gone
+home.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my own manly little laddie, I liked everything, and I was never so
+surprised in my life." So the birthday party was a great success.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="A_Coquette" id="A_Coquette"></a>A Coquette.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY AMY PIERCE.</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">I am never in doubt of her goodness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">I am always afraid of her mood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">I am never quite sure of her temper,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">For wilfulness runs in her blood.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">She is sweet with the sweetness of springtime&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">A tear and a smile in an hour&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Yet I ask not release from her slightest caprice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">My love with the face of a flower.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">My love with the grace of the lily<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">That sways on its slender fair stem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">My love with the bloom of the rosebud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">White pearl in my life's diadem!<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">You may call her coquette if it please you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Enchanting, if shy or if bold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Is my darling, my winsome wee lassie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Whose birthdays are three, when all told.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="Horatius1" id="Horatius1"></a>Horatius.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></h3>
+
+<p class='center'><i>A Lay Made About the Year of the City CCCLX.</i></p>
+
+<h4>By T.B. MACAULAY.</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lars Porsena of Clusium<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By the Nine Gods he swore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the great house of Tarquin<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Should suffer wrong no more.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the Nine Gods he swore it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And named a trysting-day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bade his messengers ride forth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">East and west, and south and north,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To summon his array.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">II.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">East and west, and south and north,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The messengers ride fast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tower and town and cottage<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have heard the trumpet's blast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shame on the false Etruscan<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who lingers in his home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Porsena of Clusium<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is on the march for Rome!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">III.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The horsemen and the footmen<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are pouring in amain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From many a stately market-place,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From many a fruitful plain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From many a lonely hamlet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which, hid by beech and pine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like an eagle's nest, hangs on the crest<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of purple Apennine;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">IV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From lordly Volaterr&aelig;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where scowls the far-famed hold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Piled by the hands of giants<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For godlike kings of old;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From sea-girt Populonia,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose sentinels descry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sardinia's snowy mountain-tops<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fringing the southern sky;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">V.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From the proud mart of Pis&aelig;,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Queen of the western waves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where ride Massilia's triremes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Heavy with fair-haired slaves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From where sweet Clanis wanders<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Through corn and vines and flowers;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From where Cortona lifts to heaven<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her diadem of towers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">VI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Tall are the oaks whose acorns<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Drop in dark Auser's rill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fat are the stags that champ the boughs<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the Ciminian hill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond all streams Clitumnus<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is to the herdsman dear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Best of all pools the fowler loves<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The great Volsinian mere.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">VII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But now no stroke of woodman<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is heard by Auser's rill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No hunter tracks the stag's green path<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Up the Ciminian hill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unwatched along Clitumnus<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Grazes the milk-white steer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unharmed the water-fowl may dip<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the Volsinian mere.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">VIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The harvests of Arretium<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This year old men shall reap;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This year young boys in Umbro<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shall plunge the struggling sheep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the vats of Luna<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This year the must shall foam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round the white feet of laughing girls<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose sires have marched to Rome.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">IX.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There be thirty chosen prophets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The wisest of the land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who always by Lars Porsena<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Both morn and evening stand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Evening and morn the Thirty<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have turned the verses o'er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Traced from the right on linen white<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By mighty seers of yore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">X.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And with one voice the Thirty<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have their glad answer given:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Go forth, go forth, Lars Porsena;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Go forth, beloved of Heaven:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go, and return in glory<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To Clusium's royal dome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hang round Nurscia's altars<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The golden shields of Rome."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And now hath every city<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sent up her tale of men;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The foot are fourscore thousand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The horse are thousands ten.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the gates of Sutrium<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is met the great array.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A proud man was Lars Porsena<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Upon the trysting-day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">XII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For all the Etruscan armies<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Were ranged beneath his eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many a banished Roman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And many a stout ally;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with a mighty following<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To join the muster came<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Tusculan Mamilius,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Prince of the Latian name.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But by the yellow Tiber<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was tumult and affright:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From all the spacious champaign<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To Rome men took their flight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A mile around the city<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The throng stopped up the ways;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A fearful sight it was to see<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Through two long nights and days.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XIV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For aged folk on crutches,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And women great with child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mothers sobbing over babes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That clung to them and smiled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sick men borne in litters<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">High on the necks of slaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And troops of sunburnt husbandmen<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With reaping-hooks and staves;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And droves of mules and asses<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Laden with skins of wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And endless flocks of goats and sheep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And endless herds of kine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And endless trains of wagons<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That creaked beneath the weight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of corn-sacks and of household goods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Choked every roaring gate.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">XVI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now, from the rock Tarpeian,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Could the wan burghers spy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The line of blazing villages<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Red in the midnight sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Fathers of the City,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They sat all night and day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For every hour some horseman came<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With tidings of dismay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XVII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To eastward and to westward<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have spread the Tuscan bands;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor house nor fence nor dovecot<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Crustumerium stands.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Verbenna down to Ostia<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hath wasted all the plain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Astur hath stormed Janiculum,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the stout guards are slain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XVIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I wis, in all the Senate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There was no heart so bold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But sore it ached and fast it beat<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When that ill news was told.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forthwith up rose the Consul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Up rose the Fathers all;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In haste they girded up their gowns<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And hied them to the wall.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XIX.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They held a council standing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Before the River Gate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Short time was there, ye well may guess,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For musing or debate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out spake the Consul roundly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"The bridge must straight go down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, since Janiculum is lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Naught else can save the town."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">XX.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Just then a scout came flying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">All wild with haste and fear:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"To arms! to arms! Sir Consul;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lars Porsena is here!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the low hills to westward<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Consul fixed his eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And saw the swarthy storm of dust<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Rise fast along the sky.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And nearer fast, and nearer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Doth the red whirlwind come;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And louder still, and still more loud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From underneath that rolling cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is heard the trumpet's war-note proud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The trampling and the hum.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And plainly and more plainly<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now through the gloom appears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far to left and far to right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In broken gleams of dark-blue light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The long array of helmets bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The long array of spears.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And plainly and more plainly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Above that glimmering line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now might ye see the banners<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of twelve fair cities shine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the banner of proud Clusium<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was highest of them all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The terror of the Umbrian,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The terror of the Gaul.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And plainly and more plainly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now might the burghers know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By port and vest, by horse and crest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Each warlike Lucumo.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a>There Cilnius of Arretium<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On his fleet roan was seen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Astur of the fourfold shield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Girt with the brand none else may wield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tolumnius with the belt of gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dark Verbenna from the hold<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By reedy Thrasymene.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXIV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fast by the royal standard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O'erlooking all the war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lars Porsena of Clusium<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sat in his ivory car.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By the right wheel rode Mamilius,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Prince of the Latian name;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by the left false Sextus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That wrought the deed of shame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But when the face of Sextus<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was seen among the foes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A yell that rent the firmament<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From all the town arose.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the house-tops was no woman<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But spat toward him and hissed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No child but screamed out curses<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And shook its little fist.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXVI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the Consul's brow was sad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the Consul's speech was low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And darkly looked he at the wall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And darkly at the foe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Their van will be upon us<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Before the bridge goes down;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if they once may win the bridge<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What hope to save the town?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">XXVII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then out spake brave Horatius,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Captain of the Gate:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"To every man upon this earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Death cometh soon or late.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how can man die better<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Than facing fearful odds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the ashes of his fathers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the temples of his gods.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXVIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"And for the tender mother<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who dandled him to rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for the wife who nurses<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His baby at her breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for the holy maidens<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who feed the eternal flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To save them from false Sextus<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That wrought the deed of shame?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXIX.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With all the speed ye may;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I, with two more to help me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will hold the foe in play.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In yon strait path a thousand<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May well be stopped by three.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now who will stand on either hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And keep the bridge with me?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXX.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then out spake Spurius Lartius,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A Ramnian proud was he:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Lo, I will stand at thy right hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And keep the bridge with thee."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And out spake strong Herminius,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of Titian blood was he:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"I will abide on thy left side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And keep the bridge with thee."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">XXXI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Horatius," quoth the Consul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"As thou sayest, so let it be."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And straight against that great array<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Forth went the dauntless Three.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Romans in Rome's quarrel<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Spared neither land nor gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the brave days of old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXXII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then none was for a party;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then all were for the State;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then the great man helped the poor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the poor man loved the great;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then lands were fairly portioned;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then spoils were fairly sold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Romans were like brothers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the brave days of old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXXIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now Roman is to Roman<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">More hateful than a foe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the Tribunes beard the high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the Fathers grind the low.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As we wax hot in faction,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In battle we wax cold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherefore men fight not as they fought<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the brave days of old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXXIV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now while the Three were tightening<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Their harness on their backs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Consul was the foremost man<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To take in hand an axe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Fathers mixed with Commons<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Seized hatchet, bar, and crow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And smote upon the planks above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And loosed the props below.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">XXXV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Meanwhile the Tuscan army,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Right glorious to behold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Came flashing back the noonday light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rank behind rank, like surges bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of a broad sea of gold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Four hundred trumpets sounded<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A peal of warlike glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As that great host, with measured tread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And spears advanced, and ensigns spread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rolled slowly toward the bridge's head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where stood the dauntless Three.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXXVI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Three stood calm and silent<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And looked upon the foes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a great shout of laughter<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From all the vanguard rose;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And forth three chiefs came spurring<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Before that deep array:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To earth they sprang, their swords they drew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lifted high their shields, and flew<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To win the narrow way.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXXVII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Aunus from green Tifernum,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lord of the Hill of Vines;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sicken in Ilva's mines;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Picus, long to Clusium<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vassal in peace and war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who led to fight his Umbrian powers<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From that gray crag where, girt with towers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fortress of Nequinum lowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O'er the pale waves of Nar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">XXXVIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Into the stream beneath;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Herminius struck at Seius,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And clove him to the teeth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At Picus brave Horatius<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Darted one fiery thrust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the proud Umbrian's gilded arms<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Clashed in the bloody dust.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XXXIX.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then Ocnus of Falerii<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Rushed on the Roman Three;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Lausulus of Urgo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The rover of the sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Aruns of Volsinium,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who slew the great wild boar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The great wild boar that had his den<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amidst the reeds of Cosa's fen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wasted fields and slaughtered men<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Along Albinia's shore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XL.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Herminius smote down Aruns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lartius laid Ocnus low;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Right to the heart of Lausulus<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Horatius sent a blow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Lie there," he cried, "fell pirate!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No more, aghast and pale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Ostia's walls the crowd shall mark<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The track of thy destroying bark.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No more Campania's hinds shall fly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To woods and caverns when they spy<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thy thrice accursed sail."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">XLI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But now no sound of laughter<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was heard among the foes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A wild and wrathful clamor<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From all the vanguard rose.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Six spears' length from the entrance<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Halted that deep array,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for a space no man came forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To win the narrow way.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XLII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But hark! the cry is Astur;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And lo! the ranks divide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the great Lord of Luna<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Comes with his stately stride.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon his ample shoulders<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Clangs loud the fourfold shield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in his hand he shakes the brand<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which none but he can wield.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XLIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He smiled on those bold Romans<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A smile serene and high;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He eyed the flinching Tuscans,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And scorn was in his eye.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Quoth he, "The she-wolf's litter<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Stand savagely at bay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But will ye dare to follow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If Astur clears the way?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XLIV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then, whirling up his broadsword<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With both hands to the height,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He rushed against Horatius,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And smote with all his might.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a>With shield and blade Horatius<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Right deftly turned the blow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Tuscans raised a joyful cry<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To see the red blood flow.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XLV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He reeled and on Herminius<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He leaned one breathing-space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, like a wild cat mad with wounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sprang right at Astur's face.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through teeth and skull and helmet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So fierce a thrust he sped,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The good sword stood a hand-breadth out<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Behind the Tuscan's head.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XLVI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And the great Lord of Luna<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fell at that deadly stroke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As falls on Mount Alvernus<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A thunder-smitten oak.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far o'er the crashing forest<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The giant arms lie spread;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the pale augurs, muttering low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Gaze on the blasted head.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XLVII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On Astur's throat Horatius<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Right firmly pressed his heel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thrice and four times tugged amain<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ere he wrenched out the steel.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"And see," he cried, "the welcome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fair guests that wait you here!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What noble Lucumo comes next<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To taste our Roman cheer?"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">XLVIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But at his haughty challenge<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A sullen murmur ran,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mingled of wrath and shame and dread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Along that glittering van.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There lacked not men of prowess,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor men of lordly race;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all Etruria's noblest<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Were round the fatal place.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">XLIX.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But all Etruria's noblest<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Felt their hearts sink to see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the earth the bloody corpses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the path of the dauntless Three;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, from the ghastly entrance<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where those bold Romans stood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All shrank, like boys who, unaware,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ranging the woods to start a hare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come to the mouth of the dark lair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, growling low, a fierce old bear<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lies amidst bones and blood.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">L.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Was none who would be foremost<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To lead such dire attack;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But those behind cried "Forward!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And those before cried "Back!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And backward now and forward<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wavers the deep array;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on the tossing sea of steel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To and fro the standards reel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the victorious trumpet-peal<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dies fitfully away.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet one man for one moment<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Strode out before the crowd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well known was he to all the Three,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And they gave him greeting loud.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a>"Now welcome, welcome, Sextus!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now welcome to thy home!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why dost thou stay and turn away?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Here lies the road to Rome."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thrice looked he at the city,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thrice looked he at the dead;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thrice came on in fury,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And thrice turned back in dread;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, white with fear and hatred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Scowled at the narrow way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, wallowing in a pool of blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The bravest Tuscans lay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But meanwhile axe and lever<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Have manfully been plied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now the bridge hangs tottering<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Above the boiling tide.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Come back, come back, Horatius!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Loud cried the Fathers all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Back, Lartius! back, Herminius!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Back, ere the ruin fall!"<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LIV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Back darted Spurius Lartius,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Herminius darted back;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, as they passed, beneath their feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They felt the timbers crack.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when they turned their faces,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And on the farther shore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Saw brave Horatius stand alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They would have crossed once more.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But with a crash like thunder<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fell every loosened beam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, like a dam, the mighty wreck<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lay right athwart the stream;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a>And a long shout of triumph<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Rose from the walls of Rome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As to the highest turret tops<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was splashed the yellow foam.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LVI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And, like a horse unbroken<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When first he feels the rein,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The furious river struggled hard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And tossed his tawny mane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And burst the curb and bounded,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Rejoicing to be free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, whirling down in fierce career<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Battlement and plank and pier,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Rushed headlong to the sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LVII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Alone stood brave Horatius,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But constant still in mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrice thirty thousand foes before<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the broad flood behind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Down with him!" cried false Sextus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With a smile on his pale face.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"Now yield thee to our grace."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LVIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Round turned he, as not deigning<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Those craven ranks to see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Naught spake he to Lars Porsena,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To Sextus naught spake he;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he saw on Palatinus<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The white porch of his home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he spake to the noble river<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That rolls by the towers of Rome:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">LIX.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"O Tiber! father Tiber!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To whom the Romans pray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Roman's life, a Roman's arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Take thou in charge this day!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So he spake, and speaking sheathed<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The good sword by his side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with his harness on his back<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Plunged headlong in the tide.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LX.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No sound of joy or sorrow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was heard from either bank,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But friends and foes in dumb surprise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With parted lips and straining eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Stood gazing where he sank;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when above the surges<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They saw his crest appear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And even the ranks of Tuscany<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Could scarce forbear to cheer.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LXI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But fiercely ran the current,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Swollen high by months of rain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fast his blood was flowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And he was sore in pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And heavy with his armor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And spent with changing blows;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oft they thought him sinking,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But still again he rose.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LXII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Never, I ween, did swimmer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In such an evil case,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Struggle through such a raging flood<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Safe to the landing-place;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a>But his limbs were borne up bravely<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By the brave heart within,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And our good father Tiber<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bore bravely up his chin.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LXIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"Will not the villain drown?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But for this stay, ere close of day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We should have sacked the town!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Heaven help him!" quoth Lars Porsena,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">"And bring him safe to shore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For such a gallant feat of arms<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Was never seen before."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LXIV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And now he feels the bottom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Now on dry earth he stands;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now round him throng the Fathers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To press his gory hands;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now, with shouts and clapping<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And noise of weeping loud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He enters through the River Gate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Borne by the joyous crowd.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LXV.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They gave him of the corn-land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That was of public right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As much as two strong oxen<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Could plow from morn till night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they made a molten image<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And set it up on high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there it stands unto this day<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To witness if I lie.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LXVI.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It stands in the Comitium,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Plain for all folk to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Horatius in his harness<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Halting upon one knee;</span><br />
+<span class="i0"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a>And underneath is written,</span><br />
+<span class="i2">In letters all of gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How valiantly he kept the bridge<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the brave days of old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LXVII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And still his name sounds stirring<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Unto the men of Rome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the trumpet-blast that cries to them<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To charge the Volscian home;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wives still pray to Juno<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For boys with hearts as bold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As his who kept the bridge so well<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the brave days of old.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LXVIII.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And in the nights of winter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the cold north winds blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the long howling of the wolves<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is heard amidst the snow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When round the lonely cottage<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Roars loud the tempest's din,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the good logs of Algidus<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Roar louder yet within;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">LXIX.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the oldest cask is opened,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the largest lamp is lit;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the chestnuts glow in the embers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the kid turns on the spit;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When young and old in circle<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Around the firebrands close;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the girls are weaving baskets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the lads are shaping bows;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">LXX.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the goodman mends his armor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And trims his helmet's plume;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the goodwife's shuttle merrily<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Goes flashing through the loom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With weeping and with laughter<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Still is the story told,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How well Horatius kept the bridge<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the brave days of old.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3><p><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a></p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Lord Macaulay's ballad should be known by heart by every
+schoolboy. It is the finest of the famous "Lays of Ancient Rome."</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="A_Bit_of_Brightness" id="A_Bit_of_Brightness"></a>A Bit of Brightness.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.</h4>
+
+
+<p>It not only rained, but it poured; so the brightness was certainly not
+in the sky. It was Sunday, too, and that fact, so Ph&oelig;be thought,
+added to the gloominess of the storm. For Ph&oelig;be had left behind her
+the years in which she had been young and strong, and in which she had
+no need to regard the weather. Now if she went out in the rain she was
+sure to suffer afterward with rheumatism, so, of course, a day like this
+made her a prisoner within doors. There she had not very much to occupy
+her. She and her husband, Gardener Jim, lived so simply that it was a
+small matter to prepare and clear away their meals, and, that being
+attended to, what was there for her to do?</p>
+
+<p>Ph&oelig;be had never been much of a scholar, and reading even the
+coarse-print Bible, seemed to try her eyes. Knitting on Sunday was not
+to be thought of, and there was nobody passing by to be watched and
+criticised. Altogether Ph&oelig;be considered it a very dreary day.</p>
+
+<p>As for Gardener Jim, he had his pipe to comfort him. All the same he
+heaved a <a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a>sigh now and then, as if to say, "O dear! I wish things were
+not quite so dull."</p>
+
+<p>In the big house near by lived Jim's employer, Mr. Stevens. There
+matters were livelier, for there were living five healthy, happy
+children, whose mother scarcely knew the meaning of the word quiet. When
+it drew near two o'clock in the afternoon they were all begging to be
+allowed to go to Sunday-school.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll let me go, won't you, ma?" cried Jessie, the oldest, and Tommy
+and Nellie and Johnny and even baby Clara echoed the petition. Mrs.
+Stevens thought the thing over and decided that Jessie and Tommy might
+go. For the others, she would have Sunday-school at home.</p>
+
+<p>"Be sure to put on your high rubbers and your water-proofs and take
+umbrellas." These were the mother's instructions as the two left the
+family sitting-room. A few moments after, Jessie looked in again. "Well,
+you are wrapped up!" exclaimed Mrs. Stevens, "I don't think the storm
+can hurt you." "Neither do I, ma, and Oh! I forgot to ask you before,
+may we stop at Gardener Jim's on the way home?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, if you'll be careful not to make any trouble for him and Ph&oelig;be,
+and will come home before supper-time."</p>
+
+<p>Tommy, who was standing behind Jessie in the doorway, suppressed the
+hurrah <a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a>that rose to his lips. He remembered that it was Sunday and that
+his mother would not approve of his making a great noise on the holy
+day.</p>
+
+<p>He and Jessie had quite a hard tramp to the little chapel in which the
+school was held. The graveled sidewalks were covered with that
+uncomfortable mixture of snow and water known as slush, which beside
+being wet was cold and slippery, so that walking was no easy thing. Yet
+what did that matter after they had reached the school?</p>
+
+<p>Their teachers were there, and so was the superintendent, and so were
+nearly half of the scholars. Theirs was a wide-awake school, you see,
+and it did not close on account of weather.</p>
+
+<p>Each of the girls in Jessie's class was asked to recite a verse that she
+had chosen through the week. Jessie's was this:</p>
+
+<p>"To do good and to communicate forget not, for with such sacrifices God
+is well pleased."</p>
+
+<p>The teacher talked a little about it and Jessie thought it over on her
+way to Gardener Jim's. The result was that she said to her brother:</p>
+
+<p>"Tommy, you know mother said we must not trouble Jim and Ph&oelig;be."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know it, but I don't think we will, do you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I'm sure they'll be glad to see us, <a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a>but I was thinking we might do
+something to make them very glad. Suppose that while we're in there, I
+read to them from the Bible, and then we sing to them two or three of
+our hymns."</p>
+
+<p>"What a queer girl you are, Jess! Anybody would think that you were a
+minister going to hold church in the cottage. But I'm agreed, if you
+want to; I like singing anyway. It seems to let off a little of the 'go'
+in a fellow."</p>
+
+<p>By this time they had reached the cottage, and if they had been a prince
+and princess&mdash;supposing that such titled personages were living in these
+United States&mdash;they could not have had a warmer welcome. Gardener Jim
+opened the door in such haste that he scattered the ashes from his pipe
+over the rag-carpet on the floor. Ph&oelig;be, too, contrived to drop her
+spectacles while she was saying "How do you do," and it took at least
+three minutes to find them again.</p>
+
+<p>At length, however, the surprise being over, the children removed their
+wraps, Jim refilled his pipe, and Ph&oelig;be settled herself in her chair.
+She was slowly revolving in her mind the question whether it would be
+best to offer her visitors a lunch of cookies or one of apples, when
+Jessie said:</p>
+
+<p>"Ph&oelig;be, wouldn't you like to have me read you a chapter or two?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Deed and I would, miss, and I'd be <a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a>that grateful that I couldn't
+express myself. My eyes, you see, are getting old, and Jim's not much
+better, and neither of us was ever a scholard."</p>
+
+<p>So Jessie read in her sweet, clear voice the chapters beloved in palace
+and in cottage, about the holy city New Jerusalem, and about the pure
+river of water of life, clear as crystal; about the tree whose leaves
+are for the healing of the nations; about the place where they need no
+candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light;
+and they shall reign for ever and ever.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me, dear me!" exclaimed Ph&oelig;be, "it seems almost like being
+there, doesn't it? Now I'll have something to think of to-night if I lie
+awake with the rheumatism."</p>
+
+<p>"We're going to sing to you, too," was Tommy's rejoinder.</p>
+
+<p>Then he and Jessie sang "It's coming, coming nearer, that lovely land
+unseen," and "O, think of the home over there" and Phoebe's favorite:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"In the far better land of glory and light<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ransomed are singing in garments of white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The harpers are harping and all the bright train<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sing the song of redemption, the Lamb that was slain."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Jim wiped his eyes as they finished. He and Ph&oelig;be had once had a
+little boy and girl, but both had long, long been in the<a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a> "better land."
+Yet though he wept it was in gladness, for the reading and singing had
+seemed to open a window through which he might look into the streets of
+the heavenly city.</p>
+
+<p>Thus Tommy and Jessie had brought sunshine to the cottage on that rainy
+Sunday afternoon. They had given the cup of cold water&mdash;surely they had
+their reward.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="How_Sammy_Earned_the_Prize" id="How_Sammy_Earned_the_Prize"></a>How Sammy Earned the Prize.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY MRS. M.E. SANGSTER.</h4>
+
+
+<p>"And now," said the Principal, looking keenly and pleasantly through his
+spectacles, "I have another prize offer to announce. Besides the prizes
+for the best scholarship, and the best drawing and painting, and for
+punctuality, I am authorized by the Trustees of this Academy to offer a
+prize for valor. Fifty dollars in gold will be given the student who
+shows the most courage and bravery during the next six months."</p>
+
+<p>Fifty dollars in gold! The sum sounded immense in the ears of the boys,
+not one of whom had ever had five dollars for his very own at one time,
+that is in one lump sum. As they went home one and another wondered
+where the chance to show true courage was to come in their prosaic
+lives.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't the time when knights go round to rescue forlorn ladies and do
+brave deeds," said Johnny Smith, ruefully.</p>
+
+<p>"No, and there never are any fires in Scott-town, or mad dogs, or
+anything," added Billy Thorne.</p>
+
+<p>"But Sammy Slocum said nothing at all," Billy told his mother. "Old
+Sammy's a bit of a coward. He faints when he sees blood.<a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></a> Of course he
+knows he can't get the prize for valor, or any prize for that matter.
+His mother has to take in washing."</p>
+
+<p>"William," said Billy's father, who had just entered, "that is a very
+un-American way of speaking. If I were dead and buried your mother might
+have to take in washing, and it would do her no discredit. Honest work
+is honest work. Sammy is a very straight sort of boy. He's been helping
+at the store Saturday mornings, and I like the boy. He's got pluck."</p>
+
+<p>"Six months give a fellow time to turn round, any way," said Billy, as
+the family sat down to supper.</p>
+
+<p>It was September when this conversation took place, and it was December
+before the teachers, who were watching the boys' daily records very
+carefully, had the least idea who would get the prize for valor.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps we cannot award it this year," said the Principal. "Fifty
+dollars should not be thrown away, nor a prize really bestowed on
+anybody who has not merited it."</p>
+
+<p>"There are chances for heroism in the simplest and most humble life,"
+answered little Miss Riggs, the composition teacher.</p>
+
+<p>That December was awfully cold. Storm and wind and snow. Blizzard and
+gale and hurricane. You never saw anything like it. In the middle of
+December the sexton was <a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a>taken down with rheumatic fever, and there
+wasn't a soul to ring the bell, or clear away the snow, or keep fires
+going in the church, and not a man in the parish was willing to take the
+extra work upon him. The old sexton was a good deal worried, for he
+needed the little salary so much that he couldn't bear to give it up,
+and in that village church there was no money to spare.</p>
+
+<p>Sammy's mother sent bowls and pitchers of gruel and other things of the
+sort to the sick man, and when Sammy took them he heard the talk of the
+sexton and his wife. One night he came home, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"Mother, I've made a bargain with Mr. Anderson, I'm going to be the
+sexton of the church for the next three months."</p>
+
+<p>"You, my boy, you're not strong enough. It's hard work shoveling snow
+and breaking paths, and ringing the bell, and having the church warm on
+Sunday, and the lamps filled and lighted. And you have your chores to do
+at home."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear mammy, I'll manage; I'll go round and get the clothes for
+you, and carry them home and do every single thing, just the same as
+ever, and I'll try to keep Mr. Anderson's place for him too."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know that I ought to let you," said his mother.</p>
+
+<p>But she did consent.</p>
+
+<p>Then began Sammy's trial. He never <a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a>had a moment to play. Other boys
+could go skating on Saturday, but he had to stay around the church, and
+dust and sweep, and put the cushions down in the pews, and see that the
+old stoves were all right, as to dampers and draughts, bring coal up
+from the cellar, have wood split, lamps filled, wicks cut, chimneys
+polished. The big bell was hard to ring, hard for a fourteen-year-old
+boy. At first, for the fun of it, some of the other boys helped him pull
+the rope, but their enthusiasm soon cooled. Day in, day out, the stocky,
+sturdy form of Samuel might be seen, manfully plodding through all
+varieties of weather, and he had a good-morning or a good-evening ready
+for all he met. When he learned his lessons was a puzzle, but learn them
+he did, and nobody could complain that in anything he fell off, though
+his face did sometimes wear a preoccupied look, and his mother said that
+at night he slept like the dead and she just hated to have to call him
+in the morning. Through December and January and February and March,
+Sammy made as good a sexton as the church had ever had, and by April,
+Mr. Anderson was well again.</p>
+
+<p>The queer thing about it all was that Sammy had forgotten the prize for
+valor altogether. Nothing was said about it in school, and most of the
+boys were so busy looking out for brave deeds to come their <a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a>way, that
+if one had appeared, they would not have recognized it. In fact,
+everybody thought the prize for valor was going by the board.</p>
+
+<p>Till July came. And then, when the visitors were there, and the prizes
+were all given out, the President looked keenly through his spectacles
+and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Will Master Samuel Slocum step forward to the platform?"</p>
+
+<p>Modestly blushing, up rose Sammy, and somewhat awkwardly he made his way
+to the front.</p>
+
+<p>"Last winter," said the President, "there was a boy who not only did his
+whole duty in our midst, but denied himself for another, undertook hard
+work for many weeks, without pay and without shirking. We all know his
+name. Here he stands. To Samuel Slocum the committee award the prize for
+valor."</p>
+
+<p>He put five shining ten-dollar pieces into Sammy's hard brown hand.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="The_Glorious_Fourth" id="The_Glorious_Fourth"></a>The Glorious Fourth.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hurrah for the Fourth, the glorious Fourth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The day we all love best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When East and West and South and North,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No boy takes breath or rest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the banners float and the bugles blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And drums are on the street,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Throbbing and thrilling, and fifes are shrilling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And there's tread of marching feet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hurrah for the nation's proudest day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The day that made us free!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let our cheers ring out in a jubilant shout<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Far over land and sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hurrah for the flag on the school-house roof,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hurrah for the white church spire!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the homes we love, and the tools we wield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the light of the household fire.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hurrah, hurrah for the Fourth of July,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The day we love and prize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When there's wonderful light on this fair green earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And beautiful light in the skies.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a></p>
+<h2><a name="The_Middle_Daughter" id="The_Middle_Daughter"></a>The Middle Daughter.</h2>
+
+<h4>BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.</h4>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IA" id="CHAPTER_IA"></a>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+<h4>AT THE MANSE.</h4>
+
+
+<p>"I am troubled and low in my mind," said our mother, looking pensively
+out of the window. "I am really extremely anxious about the
+Wainwrights."</p>
+
+<p>It was a dull and very chilly day in the late autumn. Fog hid the hills;
+wet leaves soaked into the soft ground; the trees dripped with moisture;
+every little while down came the rain, now a pour, then a drizzle&mdash;a
+depressing sort of day.</p>
+
+<p>Our village of Highland, in the Ramapo, is perfectly enchanting in clear
+brilliant weather, and turn where you will, you catch a fine view of
+mountain, or valley, or brown stream, or tumbling cascade. On a snowy
+winter day it is divine; but in the fall, when there is mist hanging its
+gray pall over the landscape, or there are dark low-hanging clouds with
+steady pouring rain, the weather, it must be owned, is depressing in
+Highland. That is, if one cares about weather. Some people always rise
+above it, which is the better way.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a>I must explain mamma's interest in the Wainwrights. They are our dear
+friends, but not our neighbors, as they were before Dr. Wainwright went
+to live at Wishing-Brae, which was a family place left him by his
+brother; rather a tumble-down old place, but big, and with fields and
+meadows around it, and a great rambling garden. The Wainwrights were
+expecting their middle daughter, Grace, home from abroad.</p>
+
+<p>Few people in Highland have ever been abroad; New York, or Chicago, or
+Omaha, or Denver is far enough away for most of us. But Grace
+Wainwright, when she was ten, had been borrowed by a childless uncle and
+aunt, who wanted to adopt her, and begged Dr. Wainwright, who had seven
+children and hardly any money, to give them one child on whom they could
+spend their heaps of money. But no, the doctor and Mrs. Wainwright
+wouldn't hear of anything except a loan, and so Grace had been lent, in
+all, eight years; seven she had spent at school, and one in Paris,
+Berlin, Florence, Venice, Rome, the Alps. Think of it, how splendid and
+charming!</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Ralph and Aunt Hattie did not like to give her up now, but Grace,
+we heard, would come. She wanted to see her mother and her own kin;
+maybe she felt she ought.</p>
+
+<p>At the Manse we had just finished prayers.<a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a> Papa was going to his study.
+He wore his Friday-morning face&mdash;a sort of preoccupied pucker between
+his eyebrows, and a far-away look in his eyes. Friday is the day he
+finishes up his sermons for Sunday, and, as a matter of course, we never
+expect him to be delayed or bothered by our little concerns till he has
+them off his mind. Sermons in our house have the right of way.</p>
+
+<p>Prayers had been shorter than usual this morning, and we had sung only
+two stanzas of the hymn, instead of four or five. Usually if mamma is
+anxious about anybody or anything, papa is all sympathy and attention.
+But not on a Friday. He paid no heed either to her tone or her words,
+but only said impressively:</p>
+
+<p>"My love, please do not allow me to be disturbed in any way you can
+avoid between this and the luncheon hour; and keep the house as quiet as
+you can. I dislike being troublesome, but I've had so many interruptions
+this week; what with illness in the congregation, and funerals, and
+meetings every night, my work for Sunday is not advanced very far.
+Children, I rely on you all to help me," and with a patient smile, and a
+little wave of the hand quite characteristic, papa withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>We heard him moving about in his study, which was over the sitting-room,
+and then there came a scrape of his chair upon the <a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a>floor, and a
+creaking sound as he settled into it by the table. Papa was safely out
+of the way for the next four or five hours. I would have to be a
+watchdog to keep knocks from his door.</p>
+
+<p>"I should think," said Amy, pertly, tossing her curls, "that when papa
+has so much to do he'd just go and do it, not stand here talking and
+wasting time. It's the same thing week after week. Such a martyr."</p>
+
+<p>"Amy," said mamma, severely, "don't speak of your father in that
+flippant manner. Why are <i>you</i> lounging here so idly? Gather up the
+books, put this room in order, and then, with Laura's assistance, I
+would like you this morning to clean the china closet. Every cup and
+saucer and plate must be taken down and wiped separately, after being
+dipped into hot soap-suds and rinsed in hot water; the shelves all
+washed and dried, and the corners carefully gone over. See how thorough
+you can be, my dears," said mamma in her sweetest tones. I wondered
+whether she had known that Amy had planned to spend the rainy morning
+finishing the hand-screen she is painting for grandmother's birthday.
+From her looks nothing could be gathered. Mamma's blue eyes can look as
+unconscious of intention as a child's when she chooses to reprove, and
+yet does not wish to <a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a>seem censorious. Amy is fifteen, and very
+headstrong, as indeed we all are, but even Amy never dreams of hinting
+that she would like to do something else than what mamma prefers when
+mamma arranges things in her quiet yet masterful fashion. Dear little
+mamma. All her daughters except Jessie are taller than herself; but
+mother is queen of the Manse, nevertheless.</p>
+
+<p>Amy went off, having with a few deft touches set the library in order,
+piling the Bibles and hymn books on the little stand in the corner, and
+giving a pat here and a pull there to the cushions, rugs, and curtains,
+went pleasantly to begin her hated task of going over the china closet.
+Laura followed her.</p>
+
+<p>Elbert, our seventeen-year-old brother, politely held open the door for
+the girls to pass through.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, Amy dear," he said, compassionately, "what comes on reflecting
+upon papa. It takes some people a long while to learn wisdom."</p>
+
+<p>Amy made a little <i>moue</i> at him.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mind particularly," she said. "Come, Lole, when a thing's to be
+done, the best way is to do it and not fuss nor fret. I ought not to
+have said that; I knew it would vex dear mamma; but papa provokes me so
+with his solemn directions, <a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a>as if the whole house did not always hold
+its breath when he is in the study. Come, Lole, let's do this work as
+well as we can." Amy's sunshiny disposition matches her quick temper.
+She may say a quick word on the impulse of the moment, but she makes up
+for it afterward by her loving ways.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't the week for doing this closet, Amy," said Laura. "Why didn't
+you tell mamma so? You wanted to paint in your roses and clematis before
+noon, didn't you? I think it mean. Things are so contrary," and Laura
+sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, never mind, dear! this won't be to do next week. I think mamma was
+displeased and spoke hastily. Mamma and I are so much alike that we
+understand one another. I suppose I am just the kind of girl she used to
+be, and I hope I'll be the kind of woman she is when I grow up. I'm
+imitating mother all I can."</p>
+
+<p>Laura laughed. "Well, Amy, you'd never be so popular in your husband's
+congregation as mamma is&mdash;never. You haven't so much tact; I don't
+believe you'll ever have it, either."</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't yet, of course; but I'd have more tact if I were a grown-up
+lady and married to a clergyman. I don't think, though, I'll ever marry
+a minister," said Amy, with grave determination, handing <a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></a>down a
+beautiful salad-bowl, which Laura received in both hands with the
+reverence due to a treasured possession. "It's the prettiest thing we
+own," said Amy, feeling the smooth satiny surface lovingly, and holding
+it up against her pink cheek. "Isn't it scrumptious, Laura?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Laura, "it's nice, but not so pretty as the tea-things
+which belonged to Great-aunt Judith. They are my pride. This does not
+compare."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, perhaps not in one way, for they are family pieces, and prove we
+came out of the ark. But the salad-bowl is a beauty. I don't object to
+the care of china myself. It is ladies' work. It surprises me that
+people ever are willing to trust their delicate china to clumsy maids. I
+wouldn't if I had gems and gold like a princess, instead of being only
+the daughter of a poor country clergyman. I'd always wash my own nice
+dishes with my own fair hands."</p>
+
+<p>"That shows your Southern breeding," said Laura. "Southern women always
+look after their china and do a good deal of the dainty part of the
+housekeeping. Mamma learned that when she was a little girl living in
+Richmond."</p>
+
+<p>"'Tisn't only Southern breeding," said Amy. "Our Holland-Dutch ancestors
+had the same elegant ways of taking care of their property. I'm writing
+a paper on<a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></a> 'Dutch Housewifery' for the next meeting of the
+Granddaughters of the Revolution, and you'll find out a good many
+interesting points if you listen to it."</p>
+
+<p>"Amy Raeburn!" exclaimed Laura, admiringly, "I expect you'll write a
+book one of these days."</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly intend to," replied Amy, with dignity, handing down a fat
+Dutch cream-jug, and at the moment incautiously jarring the step-ladder,
+so that, cream-jug and all, she fell to the floor. Fortunately the
+precious pitcher escaped injury; but Amy's sleeve caught on a nail, and
+as she jerked it away in her fall it loosened a shelf and down crashed a
+whole pile of the second-best dinner plates, making a terrific noise,
+which startled the whole house.</p>
+
+<p>Papa, in his study, groaned, and probably tore in two a closely written
+sheet of notes. Mamma and the girls came flying in. Amy picked herself
+up from the floor; there was a great red bruise and a scratch on her
+arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you poor child!" said mother, gauging the extent of the accident
+with a rapid glance. "Never mind," she said, relieved; "there isn't much
+harm done. Those are the plates the Ladies' Aid Society in Archertown
+gave me the year Frances was born. I never admired them. When some
+things go they carry a little piece of <a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a>my heart with them, but I don't
+mind losing donation china. Are you hurt, Amy?"</p>
+
+<p>"A bruise and a scratch&mdash;nothing to signify. Here comes Lole with the
+arnica. I don't care in the least since I haven't wrecked any of our
+Colonial heirlooms. Isn't it fortunate, mother, that we haven't broken
+or lost anything <i>this</i> congregation has bestowed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed," said mamma, gravely. "There, gather up the pieces, and
+get them out of the way before we have a caller."</p>
+
+<p>In the Manse callers may be looked for at every possible time and
+season, and some of them have eyes in the backs of their heads. For
+instance, Miss Florence Frick or Mrs. Elbridge Geary seems to be able to
+see through closed doors. And there is Mrs. Cyril Bannington Barnes, who
+thinks us all so extravagant, and does not hesitate to notice how often
+we wear our best gowns, and wonders to our faces where mamma's last
+winter's new furs came from, and is very much astonished and quite angry
+that papa should insist on sending all his boys to college. But, there,
+this story isn't going to be a talk about papa's people. Mamma wouldn't
+approve of that, I am sure.</p>
+
+<p>Everybody sat down comfortably in the dining-room, while Frances and
+Mildred took hold and helped Amy and Laura finish the closet. Everybody
+meant mamma,<a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a> Mildred, Frances, Elbert, Lawrence, Sammy and Jessie.
+Somehow, a downright rainy day in autumn, with a bit of a blaze on the
+hearth, makes you feel like dropping into talk and staying in one place,
+and discussing eventful things, such as Grace Wainwright's return, and
+what her effect would be on her family, and what effect they would have
+on her.</p>
+
+<p>"I really do not think Grace is in the very least bit prepared for the
+life she is coming to," said Frances.</p>
+
+<p>"No," said mamma, "I fear not. But she is coming to her duty, and one
+can always do that."</p>
+
+<p>"For my part," said Elbert, "I see nothing so much amiss at the
+Wainwrights. They're a jolly set, and go when you will, you find them
+having good times. Of course they are in straitened circumstances."</p>
+
+<p>"And Grace has been accustomed to lavish expenditure," said Mildred.</p>
+
+<p>"If she had remained in Paris, with her Uncle Ralph and Aunt Gertrude
+she would have escaped a good deal of hardship," said Lawrence.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," mamma broke in, impatiently, "how short-sighted you young people
+are! You look at everything from your own point of view. It is not of
+Grace I am thinking so much. I am considering her mother and the girls
+and her poor, worn-out father. I <a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a>couldn't sleep last night, thinking of
+the Wainwrights. Mildred, you might send over a nut-cake and some soft
+custard and a glass of jelly, when it stops raining, and the last number
+of the "Christian Herald" and of "Harper's Monthly" might be slipped
+into the basket, too&mdash;that is, if you have all done with it. Papa and I
+have finished reading the serial and we will not want it again. There's
+so much to read in this house."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll attend to it, mamma," said Mildred. "Now what can I do to help you
+before I go to my French lesson."</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing, you sweetest of dears," said mother, tenderly. Mildred was her
+great favorite, and nobody was jealous, for we all adored our tall, fair
+sister.</p>
+
+<p>So we scattered to our different occupations and did not meet again till
+luncheon was announced.</p>
+
+<p>Does somebody ask which of the minister's eight children is telling this
+story? If you must know, I am Frances, and what I did not myself see was
+all told to me at the time it happened and put down in my journal.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IIA" id="CHAPTER_IIA"></a>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+<h4>AT WISHING-BRAE.</h4>
+
+
+<p>Grace Wainwright, a slender girl, in a trim tailor-made gown, stepped
+off the train at Highland Station. She was pretty and distinguished
+looking. Nobody would have passed her without observing that. Her four
+trunks and a hat-box had been swung down to the platform by the
+baggage-master, and the few passengers who, so late in the fall, stopped
+at this little out-of-the-way station in the hills had all tramped
+homeward through the rain, or been picked up by waiting conveyances.
+There was no one to meet Grace, and it made her feel homesick and
+lonely. As she stood alone on the rough unpainted boardwalk in front of
+the passenger-room a sense of desolation crept into the very marrow of
+her bones. She couldn't understand it, this indifference on the part of
+her family. The ticket agent came out and was about to lock the door. He
+was going home to his mid-day dinner.</p>
+
+<p>"I am Grace Wainwright," she said, appealing to him. "Do you not suppose
+some one is coming to meet me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you be Dr. Wainwright's darter that's been to foreign parts, be
+you? Waal, miss, the doctor he can't come because he's been sent for to
+set Mr. Stone's brother's <a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a>child's arm that he broke jumping over a
+fence, running away from a snake. But I guess somebody'll be along soon.
+Like enough your folks depended on Mr. Burden; he drives a stage, and
+reckons to meet passengers, and take up trunks, but he's sort o'
+half-baked, and he's afraid to bring his old horse out when it
+rains&mdash;'fraid it'll catch the rheumatiz. You better step over to my
+house 'long o' me; somebody'll be here in the course of an hour."</p>
+
+<p>Grace's face flushed. It took all her pride to keep back a rush of
+angry, hurt tears. To give up Paris, and Uncle Ralph and Aunt Hattie,
+and her winter of music and art, and come to the woods and be treated in
+this way! She was amazed and indignant. But her native good sense showed
+her there was, there must be, some reason for what looked like neglect.
+Then came a tender thought of mamma. She wouldn't treat her thus.</p>
+
+<p>"Did a telegram from me reach Dr. Wainwright last evening?" Grace
+inquired, presently.</p>
+
+<p>The agent fidgeted and looked confused. Then he said coolly: "That
+explains the whole situation now. A dispatch did come, and I calc'lated
+to send it up to Wishin'-Brae by somebody passing, but nobody came along
+goin' in that direction, and I clean forgot it. Its too bad; but you
+step right <a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a>over to my house and take a bite. There'll be a chance to
+get you home some time to-day."</p>
+
+<p>At this instant, "Is this Grace Wainwright?" exclaimed a sweet, clear
+voice, and two arms were thrown lovingly around the tired girl. "I am
+Mildred Raeburn, and this is Lawrence, my brother. We were going over to
+your house, and may we take you? I was on an errand there for mamma.
+Your people didn't know just when to look for you, dear, not hearing
+definitely, but we all supposed you would come on the five o'clock
+train. Mr. Slocum, please see that Miss Wainwright's trunks are put
+under cover till Burden's express can be sent for them." Mildred stepped
+into the carryall after Grace, giving her another loving hug.</p>
+
+<p>"Mildred, how dear of you to happen here at just the right moment, like
+an angel of light! You always did that. I remember when we were little
+things at school. It is ages since I was here, but nothing has changed."</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing ever changes in Highland, Grace. I am sorry you see it again
+for the first on this wet and dismal day. But to-morrow will be
+beautiful, I am sure."</p>
+
+<p>"Lawrence, you have grown out of my recollection," said Grace. "But
+we'll soon renew our acquaintance. I met your chum at Harvard, Edward
+Gerald at Geneva, and <a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></a>he drove with our party to Paris." Then, turning
+to Mildred, "My mother is no better, is she? Dear, patient mother! I've
+been away too long."</p>
+
+<p>"She is no better," replied Mildred, gently, "but then she is no worse.
+Mrs. Wainwright will be so happy when she has her middle girl by her
+side again. She's never gloomy, though. It's wonderful."</p>
+
+<p>They drove on silently. Mildred took keen notice of every detail of
+Grace's dress&mdash;the blue cloth gown and jacket, simple but modish, with
+an air no Highland dressmaker could achieve, for who on earth out of
+Paris can make anything so perfect as a Paris gown, in which a pretty
+girl is sure to look like a dream? The little toque on the small head
+was perched over braids of smooth brown hair, the gloves and boots were
+well-fitting, and Grace Wainwright carried herself finely. This was a
+girl who could walk ten miles on a stretch, ride a wheel or a horse at
+pleasure, drive, play tennis or golf, or do whatever else a girl of the
+period can. She was both strong and lovely, one saw that.</p>
+
+<p>What could she do besides? Mildred, with the reins lying loosely over
+old Whitefoot's back, thought and wondered. There was opportunity for
+much at the Brae.</p>
+
+<p>Lawrence and Grace chatted eagerly as the old pony climbed hills and
+descended <a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a>valleys, till at last he paused at a rise in the path, then
+went on, and there, the ground dipping down like the sides of a cup, in
+the hollow at the bottom lay the straggling village.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Grace, "I remember it all. There is the post-office, and
+Doremus' store, and the little inn, the church with the white spire, the
+school-house, and the Manse. Drive faster, please, Mildred. I want to
+see my mother. Just around that fir grove should be the old home of
+Wishing-Brae."</p>
+
+<p>Tears filled Grace's eyes. Her heart beat fast.</p>
+
+<p>The Wainwrights' house stood at the end of a long willow-bordered lane.
+As the manse carryall turned into this from the road a shout was heard
+from the house. Presently a rush of children tearing toward the
+carriage, and a chorus of "Hurrah, here is Grace!" announced the delight
+of the younger ones at meeting their sister. Mildred drew up at the
+doorstep, Lawrence helped Grace out, and a fair-haired older sister
+kissed her and led her to the mother sitting by the window in a great
+wheeled chair.</p>
+
+<p>The Raeburns hurried away. As they turned out of the lane they met Mr.
+Burden with his cart piled high with Grace's trunks.</p>
+
+<p>"Where shall my boxes be carried, sister?" said Grace, a few minutes
+later.<a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a> She was sitting softly stroking her mother's thin white hand,
+the mother gazing with pride and joy into the beautiful blooming face of
+her stranger girl, who had left her a child.</p>
+
+<p>"My middle girl, my precious middle daughter," she said, her eyes
+filling with tears. "Miriam, Grace, and Eva, now I have you all about
+me, my three girls. I am a happy woman, Gracie."</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo!" came up the stairs; "Burden's waiting to be paid. He says it's
+a dollar and a quarter. Who's got the money? There never is any money in
+this house."</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, Robbie!" cried Miriam, looking over the railing. "The trunks will
+have to be brought right up here, of course. Set them into our room, and
+after they are unpacked we'll put them into the garret. Mother, is there
+any change in your pocketbook?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't trouble mamma," said Grace, waking up to the fact that there was
+embarrassment in meeting this trifling charge. "I have money;" and she
+opened her dainty purse for the purpose&mdash;a silvery alligator thing with
+golden clasps and her monogram on it in jewels, and took out the money
+needed. Her sisters and brother had a glimpse of bills and silver in
+that well-filled purse.</p>
+
+<p>"Jiminy!" said Robbie to James. "Did <a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a>you see the money she's got? Why,
+father never had as much as that at once."</p>
+
+<p>Which was very true. How should a hard-working country doctor have money
+to carry about when his bills were hard to collect, when anyway he never
+kept books, and when his family, what with feeding and clothing and
+schooling expenses, cost more every year than he could possibly earn?
+Poor Doctor Wainwright! He was growing old and bent under the load of
+care and expense he had to carry. While he couldn't collect his own
+bills, because it is unprofessional for a doctor to dun, people did not
+hesitate to dun him. All this day, as he drove from house to house, over
+the weary miles, up hill and down, there was a song in his heart. He was
+a sanguine man. A little bit of hope went a long way in encouraging this
+good doctor, and he felt sure that better days would dawn for him now
+that Grace had come home. A less hopeful temperament would have been apt
+to see rocks in the way, the girl having been so differently educated
+from the others, and accustomed to luxuries which they had never known.
+Not so her father. He saw everything in rose-color.</p>
+
+<p>As Doctor Wainwright toward evening turned his horse's head homeward he
+was rudely stopped on a street corner by a red-faced, red-bearded man,
+who presented him <a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></a>with a bill. The man grumbled out sullenly, with a
+scowl on his face:</p>
+
+<p>"Doctor Wainwright, I'm sorry to bother you, but this bill has been
+standing a long time. It will accommodate me very much if you can let me
+have something on account next Monday. I've got engagements to
+meet&mdash;pressing engagements, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do my best, Potter," said the doctor. Where he was to get any
+money by Monday he did not know, but, as Potter said, the money was due.
+He thrust the bill into his coat pocket and drove on, half his pleasure
+in again seeing his child clouded by this encounter. Pulling his gray
+mustache, the world growing dark as the sun went down, the father's
+spirits sank to zero. He had peeped at the bill. It was larger than he
+had supposed, as bills are apt to be. Two hundred dollars! And he
+couldn't borrow, and there was nothing more to mortgage. And Grace's
+coming back had led him to sanction the purchase of a new piano, to be
+paid for by instalments. The piano had been seen going home a few days
+before, and every creditor the doctor had, seeing its progress, had been
+quick to put in his claim, reasoning very naturally that if Doctor
+Wainwright could afford to buy a new piano, he could equally afford to
+settle his old debts, and must be urged to do so.</p>
+
+<p>The old mare quickened her pace as she <a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a>saw her stable door ahead of
+her. The lines hung limp and loose in her master's hands. Under the
+pressure of distress about this dreadful two hundred dollars he had
+forgotten to be glad that Grace was again with them.</p>
+
+<p>Doctor Wainwright was an easy-going as well as a hopeful sort of man,
+but he was an honest person, and he knew that creditors have a right to
+be insistent. It distressed him to drag around a load of debt. For days
+together the poor doctor had driven a long way round rather than to pass
+Potter's store on the main street, the dread of some such encounter and
+the shame of his position weighing heavily on his soul. It was the
+harder for him that he had made it a rule never to appear anxious before
+his wife. Mrs. Wainwright had enough to bear in being ill and in pain.
+The doctor braced himself and threw back his shoulders as if casting off
+a load, as the mare, of her own accord, stopped at the door.</p>
+
+<p>The house was full of light. Merry voices overflowed in rippling speech
+and laughter. Out swarmed the children to meet papa, and one sweet girl
+kissed him over and over. "Here I am," she said, "your middle daughter,
+dearest. Here I am."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IIIA" id="CHAPTER_IIIA"></a>CHAPTER III.</h3>
+
+<h4>GRACE TAKES A HAND.</h4>
+
+
+<p>"Mother, darling, may I have a good long talk with you to-day, a
+confidential talk, we two by ourselves?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Grace, I shall be delighted."</p>
+
+<p>"And when can it be? You always have so many around you, dear; and no
+wonder, this is the centre of the house, this chair, which is your
+throne."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, let me see," said Mrs. Wainwright, considering. "After dinner the
+children go to Sunday-school, and papa has always a few Sunday patients
+whom he must visit. Between two and four I am always alone on Sunday and
+we can have a chat then. Mildred and Frances will probably walk home
+with Miriam and want to carry you off to the Manse to tea."</p>
+
+<p>"Not on my first home Sunday, mamma," said Grace. "I must have every
+littlest bit of that here, though I do expect to have good times with
+the Manse girls. Is Mrs. Raeburn as sweet as ever? I remember her
+standing at the station and waving me good-bye when I went away with
+auntie, and Amy, the dearest wee fairy, was by her side."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a>"Amy is full of plans," said Mrs. Wainwright. "She is going to the
+League to study art if her mother can spare her. Mildred and Frances
+want to go on with their French, and one of the little boys, I forget
+which, has musical talent; but there is no one in Highland who can teach
+the piano. The Raeburn children are all clever and bright."</p>
+
+<p>"They could hardly help being that, mamma, with such a father and
+mother, and the atmosphere of such a home."</p>
+
+<p>All this time there was the hurry and bustle of Sunday morning in a
+large family where every one goes to church, and the time between
+breakfast and half-past ten is a scramble. Grace kept quietly on with
+the work she had that morning assumed, straightening the quilts on the
+invalid's chair, bringing her a new book, and setting a little vase with
+a few late flowers on the table by her side. Out of Grace's trunks there
+had been produced gifts for the whole household, and many pretty things,
+pictures and curios, which lent attractiveness to the parlor, grown
+shabby and faded with use and poverty, but still a pretty and homelike
+parlor, as a room which is lived in by well-bred people must always be.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, when the rest have gone to Sunday-school, and papa has started on
+his afternoon rounds, I'll come here and take <a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a>my seat, where I used to
+when I was a wee tot, and we'll have an old-fashioned confab. Now, if
+the girls have finished dressing, I'll run and get ready for church. I'm
+so glad all through that I can again hear one of Dr. Raeburn's helpful
+sermons."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Wainwright smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"To hear Frances' and Amy's chatter, one would not think that so great a
+privilege, Grace."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that amounts to nothing, mamma! Let somebody else criticise their
+father and you'd hear another story. Ministers' families are apt to be a
+little less appreciative than outsiders, they are so used to the
+minister in all his moods. But Dr. Raeburn's "Every Morning" has been my
+companion book to the Bible ever since I was old enough to like and need
+such books, and though I was so small when I went that I remember only
+the music of his voice, I want to hear him preach again."</p>
+
+<p>"Grace," came a call from the floor above, "you can have your turn at
+the basin and the looking-glass if you'll come this minute. Hurry, dear,
+I'm keeping Eva off by strategy. You have your hair to do and I want you
+to hook my collar. You must have finished in mother's room, and it's my
+belief you two are just chattering. Hurry, please, dear!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Miriam, I'm coming. But let Eva <a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a>go on. It takes only a second for
+me to slip into my jacket. I never dress for church," she explained to
+her mother. "This little black gown is what I always wear on Sundays."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you could have a room of your own, daughter. It's hard after
+you've had independence so long to be sandwiched in between Miriam and
+Eva. But we could not manage another room just now." The mother looked
+wistful.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm doing very well, mamma. Never give it a thought. Why, it's fun
+being with my sisters as I always used to be. Miriam is the one entitled
+to a separate room, if anybody could have it."</p>
+
+<p>Yet she stifled a sigh as she ran up to the large, ill-appointed chamber
+which the three sisters used in common.</p>
+
+<p>When you have had your own separate, individual room for years, with
+every dainty belonging that is possible for a luxurious taste to
+provide, it is a bit of a trial to give it up and be satisfied with a
+cot at one end of a long, barnlike place, with no chance for solitude,
+and only one mirror and one pitcher and basin to serve the needs of
+three persons. It can be borne, however, as every small trial in this
+world may, if there is a cheerful spirit and a strong, loving heart to
+fall back on. Besides, most things may be improved if you know how to go
+about the <a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a>task. The chief thing is first to accept the situation, and
+then bravely to undertake the changing it for the better.</p>
+
+<p>"Doctor," said the mother, as her husband brushed his thin gray hair in
+front of his chiffonier, while the merry sound of their children's
+voices came floating down to them through open doors, "thank the dear
+Lord for me in my stead when you sit in the pew to-day. I'll be with you
+in my thoughts. It's such a blessed thing that our little middle girl is
+at home with us."</p>
+
+<p>The doctor sighed. That bill in his pocket was burning like fire in his
+soul. He was not a cent nearer meeting it than he had been on Friday,
+and to-morrow was but twenty-four hours off. Yesterday he had tried to
+borrow from a cousin, but in vain.</p>
+
+<p>"I fail to see a blessing anywhere, Charlotte," he said. "Things
+couldn't well be worse. This is a dark bit of the road." He checked
+himself. Why had he saddened her? It was not his custom.</p>
+
+<p>"When things are at the very worst, Jack, I've always noticed that they
+take a turn for the better. 'It may not be my way; it may not be thy
+way; but yet in His own way the Lord will provide.'" Mrs. Wainwright
+spoke steadily and cheerfully. Her thin cheeks flushed with feeling. Her
+tones were strong. Her smile was like a sunbeam. Doctor Wainwright's
+courage rose.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></a>"Anyway, darling wife, you are the best blessing a man ever had." He
+stooped and kissed her like a lover.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the whole family, Grace walking proudly at her father's side,
+took their way across the fields to church.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps you may have seen lovely Sunday mornings, but I don't think
+there is a place in the whole world where Sunday sunshine is as clear,
+Sunday stillness as full of rest, Sunday flowers as fragrant, as in our
+hamlet among the hills, our own dear Highland. Far and near the roads
+wind past farms and fields, with simple, happy homes nestling under the
+shadow of the mountains. You hear the church bells, and their sound is
+soft and clear as they break the golden silence. Groups of people,
+rosy-cheeked children, and sturdy boys and pleasant looking men and
+women pass you walking to church, exchanging greetings. Carriage loads
+of old and young drive on, all going the same way. It makes me think of
+a verse in the Psalm which my old Scottish mother loved:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I joyed when to the house of God<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">'Go up,' they said to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Jerusalem, within thy gates<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our feet shall standing be.'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"Oh, Paradise! oh, Paradise!" hummed Amy Raeburn that same Sunday
+morning as, the last to leave the Manse, she ran after her mother and
+sisters. The storm of the <a name="Page_189" id="Page_189"></a>two previous days had newly brightened the
+landscape. Every twig and branch shone, and the red and yellow maple
+leaves, the wine-color of the oak, the burnished copper of the beech,
+were like jewels in the sun.</p>
+
+<p>"If it were not Sunday I would dance," said Amy, subduing her steps to a
+sober walk as she saw approaching the majestic figure of Mrs. Cyril
+Bannington Barnes.</p>
+
+<p>"You are late, Amy Raeburn," said this lady. "Your father went to church
+a half-hour ago, and the bell is tolling. Young people should cultivate
+a habit of being punctual. This being a few minutes behind time is very
+reprehensible&mdash;very rep-re-hen-sible indeed, my love."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am," replied Amy, meekly, walking slowly beside the also tardy
+Mrs. Barnes.</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say," continued Mrs. Barnes, "that you are thinking to yourself
+that I also am late. But, Amy, I have no duty to the parish. I am an
+independent woman. You are a girl, and the minister's daughter at that.
+You are in a very different position. I do hope, Amy Raeburn, that you
+will not be late another Sunday morning. Your mother is not so good a
+disciplinarian as I could wish."</p>
+
+<p>"No, Mrs. Barnes?" said Amy, with a gentle questioning manner, which
+would <a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></a>have irritated the matron still more had their progress not now
+ceased on the church steps. Amy, both resentful and amused, fluttered,
+like an alarmed chick to the brooding mother-wing, straight to the
+minister's pew. Mrs. Barnes, smoothing ruffled plumes, proceeded with
+stately and impressive tread to her place in front of the pulpit.</p>
+
+<p>Doctor Raeburn was rising to pronounce the invocation. The church was
+full. Amy glanced over to the Wainwright pew, and saw Grace, and smiled.
+Into Amy's mind stole a text she was fond of, quite as if an angel had
+spoken it, and she forgot that she had been ruffled the wrong way by
+Mrs. Cyril Bannington Barnes. This was the text:</p>
+
+<p>"Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good."</p>
+
+<p>"You are a hateful, wicked girl, Amy," said Amy to herself. "Why, when
+you have so much to make you happy, are you so easily upset by a fretful
+old lady, who is, after all, your friend, and would stand by you if
+there were need?"</p>
+
+<p>Amy did not know it, but it was Grace's sweet and tranquil look that had
+brought the text to her mind. One of the dearest things in life is that
+we may do good and not know that we are doing it.</p>
+
+<p>When the Sunday hush fell on the house of which Mrs. Wainwright had
+spoken Grace came softly tapping at the door.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></a>"Yes, dear," called her mother; "come right in."</p>
+
+<p>"Mamma," said Grace, after a few minutes, "will you tell me plainly, if
+you don't mind, what is worrying papa? I don't mean generally, but what
+special trouble is on his mind to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Potter's bill, I have no doubt," said the mother, quietly. "Other
+troubles come and go, but there is always Potter's bill in the
+background. And every little while it crops up and gets into the front."</p>
+
+<p>"What is Potter's bill, dear mamma, and how do we come to owe it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can't fully explain to you, my child, how it comes to be so large.
+When Mr. Potter's father was living and carrying on the business, he
+used to say to your father: 'Just get all you want here, doctor; never
+give yourself a thought; pay when you can and what you can. We come to
+you for medical advice and remedies, and we'll strike a balance
+somehow.' The Potters have during years had very little occasion for a
+doctor's services, and we, with this great family, have had to have
+groceries, shoes, and every other thing, and Potter's bill has kept
+rolling up like a great snowball, bit by bit. We pay something now and
+then. I sold my old sideboard that came to me from my grandparents, and
+paid a hundred dollars on it six months ago. Old Mr. Potter died.<a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></a> Rufus
+reigns in his stead, as the Bible says, and he wants to collect his
+money. I do not blame him, Grace, but he torments poor papa. There are
+two hundred dollars due now, and papa has been trying to get money due
+him, and to pay Rufus fifty dollars, but he's afraid he can't raise the
+money."</p>
+
+<p>Grace reflected. Then she asked a question. "Dear mamma, don't think me
+prying, but is Potter's the only pressing obligation on papa just now?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Wainwright hesitated. Then she answered, a little slowly, "No,
+Grace, there are other accounts; but Potter's is the largest."</p>
+
+<p>"I ask, because I can help my father," said Grace, modestly. "Uncle
+Ralph deposited five hundred dollars to my credit in a New York bank on
+my birthday. The money is mine, to do with absolutely as I please. I
+have nearly fifty dollars in my trunk. Uncle and auntie have always
+given me money lavishly. Papa can settle Potter's account to-morrow. I'm
+only too thankful I have the money. To think that money can do so much
+toward making people happy or making them miserable! Then, mother dear,
+we'll go into papa's accounts and see how near I can come to relieving
+the present state of affairs; and if papa will consent, we'll collect
+his bills, and then later, I've another scheme&mdash;that is a fine,
+sweet-toned piano in the parlor. I mean to give lessons."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></a>"Grace, it was an extravagance in our circumstances to get that piano,
+but the girls were so tired of the old one; it was worn out, a tin pan,
+and this is to be paid for on easy terms, so much a month."</p>
+
+<p>Grace hated to have her mother to apologize in this way. She hastened to
+say, "I'm glad it's here, and don't think me conceited, but I've had the
+best instruction uncle could secure for me here, and a short course in
+Berlin, and now I mean to make it of some use. I believe I can get
+pupils."</p>
+
+<p>"Not many in Highland, I fear, Grace."</p>
+
+<p>"If not in Highland, in New York. Leave that to me."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Wainwright felt as if she had been taking a tonic. To the lady
+living her days out in her own chamber, and unaccustomed to excitement,
+there was something very surprising and very stimulating too in the
+swift way of settling things and the fearlessness of this young girl.
+Though she had yielded very reluctantly to her brother's wish to keep
+Grace apart from her family and wholly his own for so many years, she
+now saw there was good in it. Her little girl had developed into a
+resolute, capable and strong sort of young woman, who could make use of
+whatever tools her education had put into her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"This hasn't been quite the right kind of Sunday talk, mother," said
+Grace, "but I <a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></a>haven't been here three days without seeing there's a
+cloud, and I don't like to give up to clouds. I'm like the old woman who
+must take her broom and sweep the cobwebs out of the sky."</p>
+
+<p>"God helping you, my dear, you will succeed. You have swept some cobwebs
+out of my sky already."</p>
+
+<p>"God helping me, yes, dear. Thank you for saying that. Now don't you
+want me to sing to you? I'll darken your room and set the door ajar, and
+then I'll go to the parlor and play soft, rippling, silvery things, and
+sing to you, and you will fall asleep while I'm singing, and have a
+lovely nap before they all come home."</p>
+
+<p>As Grace went down the stairs, she paused a moment at the door of the
+big dining-room, "large as a town hall," her father sometimes said.
+Everything at Wishing-Brae was of ample size&mdash;great rooms, lofty
+ceilings, big fire-places, broad windows.</p>
+
+<p>"I missed the sideboard, the splendid old mahogany piece with its deep
+winy lustre, and the curious carved work. Mother must have grieved to
+part with it. Surely uncle and aunt couldn't have known of these
+straits. Well, I'm at home now, and they need somebody to manage for
+them. Uncle always said I had a business head. God helping me, I'll pull
+my people out of the slough of despond."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></a>The young girl went into the parlor, where the amber light from the
+west was beginning to fall upon the old Wainwright portraits, the
+candelabra with their prisms pendent, and the faded cushions and rugs.
+Playing softly, as she had said, singing sweetly "Abide with me" and
+"Sun of my soul," the mother was soothed into a peaceful little
+half-hour of sleep, in which she dreamed that God had sent her an angel
+guest, whose name was Grace.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IVA" id="CHAPTER_IVA"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h3>
+
+<h4>TWO LITTLE SCHOOLMARMS.</h4>
+
+
+<p>"And so you are your papa's good fairy? How happy you must be! How
+proud!" Amy's eyes shone as she talked to Grace, and smoothed down a
+fold of the pretty white alpaca gown which set off her friend's dainty
+beauty. The girls were in my mother's room at the Manse, and Mrs.
+Raeburn had left them together to talk over plans, while she went to the
+parlor to entertain a visitor who was engaged in getting up an autumn
+<i>f&ecirc;te</i> for a charitable purpose. Nothing of this kind was ever done
+without mother's aid.</p>
+
+<p>There were few secrets between Wishing-Brae and the Manse, and Mrs.
+Wainwright <a name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></a>had told our mother how opportunely Grace had been able to
+assist her father in his straits. Great was our joy.</p>
+
+<p>"You must remember, dear," said mamma, when she returned from seeing
+Miss Gardner off, "that your purse is not exhaustless, though it is a
+long one for a girl. Debts have a way of eating up bank accounts; and
+what will you do when your money is gone if you still find that the wolf
+menaces the door at Wishing-Brae?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is what I want to consult you about, Aunt Dorothy." (I ought to
+have said that our mother was Aunt Dorothy to the children at the Brae,
+and more beloved than many a real auntie, though one only by courtesy.)
+"Frances knows my ambitions," Grace went on. "I mean to be a money-maker
+as well as a money-spender; and I have two strings to my bow. First, I'd
+like to give interpretations."</p>
+
+<p>The mother looked puzzled. "Interpretations?" she said. "Of what,
+pray?&mdash;Sanscrit or Egyptian or Greek? Are you a seeress or a witch, dear
+child?"</p>
+
+<p>"Neither. In plain English I want to read stories and poems to my
+friends and to audiences&mdash;Miss Wilkins' and Mrs. Stuart's beautiful
+stories, and the poems of Holmes and Longfellow and others who speak to
+the heart. Not mere elocutionary reading, but simple reading, bringing
+out the author's <a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"></a>meaning and giving people pleasure. I would charge an
+admission fee, and our dining-room would hold a good many; but I ought
+to have read somewhere else first, and to have a little background of
+city fame before I ask Highland neighbors to come and hear me. This is
+my initial plan. I could branch out."</p>
+
+<p>To the mother the new idea did not at once commend itself. She knew
+better than we girls did how many twenty-five-cent tickets must be sold
+to make a good round sum in dollars. She knew the thrifty people of
+Highland looked long at a quarter before they parted with it for mere
+amusement, and still further, she doubted whether Dr. Wainwright would
+like the thing. But Amy clapped her hands gleefully. She thought it
+fine.</p>
+
+<p>"You must give a studio reading," she said. "I can manage that, mother;
+if Miss Antoinette Drury will lend her studio, and we send out
+invitations for 'Music and Reading, and Tea at Five,' the prestige part
+will be taken care of. The only difficulty that I can see is that Grace
+would have to go to a lot of places and travel about uncomfortably; and
+then she'd need a manager. Wouldn't she, Frances?"</p>
+
+<p>"I see no trouble," said I, "in her being her own manager. She would go
+to a new town with a letter to the pastor of the leading <a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></a>church, or his
+wife, call in at the newspaper office and get a puff; puffs are always
+easily secured by enterprising young women, and they help to fill up the
+paper besides. Then she would hire a hall and pay for it out of her
+profits, and the business could be easily carried forward."</p>
+
+<p>"Is this the New Woman breaking her shell?" said mother. "I don't think
+I quite like the interpretation scheme either as Amy or as you outline
+it, though I am open to persuasion. Here is the doctor. Let us hear what
+he says."</p>
+
+<p>It was not Dr. Wainwright, but my father, Dr. Raeburn, except on a
+Friday, the most genial of men. Amy perched herself on his knee and ran
+her slim fingers through his thick dark hair. To him our plans were
+explained, and he at once gave them his approval.</p>
+
+<p>"As I understand you, Gracie," Dr. Raeburn said, "you wish this reading
+business as a stepping-stone. You would form classes, would you not? And
+your music could also be utilized. You had good instruction, I fancy,
+both here and over the water."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, yes, Dr. Raeburn; and I could give lessons in music, but they
+wouldn't bring me in much, here at least."</p>
+
+<p>"Come to my study," said the doctor, rising. "Amy, you have ruffled up
+my hair till I look like a cherub before the <a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a>flood. Come, all of you,
+Dorothy and the kids."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't call us kids, do you, papa?"</p>
+
+<p>"Young ladies, then, at your service," said the doctor, with a low bow.
+"I've a letter from my old friend, Vernon Hastings. I'll read it to you
+when I can find it," said the good man, rummaging among the books,
+papers, and correspondence with which his great table was littered.
+"Judge Hastings," the doctor went on, "lost his wife in Venice a year
+ago. He has three little girls in need, of special advantages; he cannot
+bear to send them away to school, and his mother, who lives with him and
+orders the house, won't listen to having a resident governess. Ah, this
+is the letter!" The doctor read:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"I wish you could help me, Charley, in the dilemma in which I find
+myself. Lucy and Helen and my little Madge are to be educated, and
+the question is how, when, and where? They are delicate, and I
+cannot yet make up my mind to the desolate house I would have
+should they go to school. Grandmamma has pronounced against a
+governess, and I don't like the day-schools of the town. Now is not
+one of your daughters musical, and perhaps another sufficiently
+mistress of the elementary branches to teach these babies? I will
+pay liberally the right person or persons for three hours' work a
+day. But I must have well-bred girls, ladies, to be with my trio of
+bairns." </p></div>
+
+<p>"I couldn't teach arithmetic or drawing," said Grace. "I would be glad
+to try my <a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></a>hand at music, and geography and German and French. I might
+be weak on spelling."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think that of you, Grace," said mother.</p>
+
+<p>"I am ashamed to say it's true," said Grace.</p>
+
+<p>Amy interrupted. "How far away is Judge Hastings' home, papa?"</p>
+
+<p>"An hour's ride, Amy dear. No, forty minutes' ride by rail. I'll go and
+see him. I've no doubt he will pay you generously, Grace, for your
+services, if you feel that you can take up this work seriously."</p>
+
+<p>"I do; I will," said Grace, "and only too thankful will I be to
+undertake it; but what about the multiplication table, and the straight
+and the curved lines, and Webster's speller?"</p>
+
+<p>"Papa," said Amy, gravely, "please mention me to the judge. I will teach
+those midgets the arithmetic and drawing and other fundamental studies
+which my gifted friend fears to touch."</p>
+
+<p>"You?" said papa, in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not, dear?" interposed mamma. "Amy's youth is against her, but the
+fact is she can count and she can draw, and I am not afraid to recommend
+her, though she is only a chit of fifteen, as to her spelling."</p>
+
+<p>"Going on sixteen, mamma, if you please, and nearly there," Amy
+remarked, <a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></a>drawing herself up to her fullest height, at which we all
+laughed merrily.</p>
+
+<p>"I taught school myself at sixteen," our mother went on, "and though it
+made me feel like twenty-six, I had no trouble with thirty boys and
+girls of all ages from four to eighteen. You must remember me, my love,
+in the old district school at Elmwood."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said papa, "and your overpowering dignity was a sight for gods
+and men. All the same you were a darling."</p>
+
+<p>"So she is still." And we pounced upon her in a body and devoured her
+with kisses, the sweet little mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Papa," Amy proceeded, when order had been restored, "why not take us
+when you go to interview the judge? Then he can behold his future
+schoolma'ams, arrange terms, and settle the thing at once. I presume
+Grace is anxious as I am to begin her career, now that it looms up
+before her. I am in the mood of the youth who bore through snow and ice
+the banner with the strange device, 'Excelsior.'"</p>
+
+<p>"In the mean time, good people," said Frances, appearing in the doorway,
+"luncheon is served."</p>
+
+<p>We had a pretty new dish&mdash;new to us&mdash;for luncheon, and as everybody may
+not know how nice it is, I'll just mention it in passing.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></a>Take large ripe tomatoes, scoop out the pulp and mix it with finely
+minced canned salmon, adding a tiny pinch of salt. Fill the tomatoes
+with this mixture, set them in a nest of crisp green lettuce leaves, and
+pour a mayonnaise into each ruby cup. The dish is extremely dainty and
+inviting, and tastes as good as it looks. It must be very cold.</p>
+
+<p>"But," Doctor Raeburn said, in reply to a remark of mother's that she
+was pleased the girls had decided on teaching, it was so womanly and
+proper an employment for girls of good family, "I must insist that the
+'interpretations' be not entirely dropped. I'll introduce you, my dear,"
+he said, "when you give your first recital, and that will make it all
+right in the eyes of Highland."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, doctor," said Grace. "I would rather have your sanction than
+anything else in the world, except papa's approval."</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't your King's Daughters give Grace a boom? You are always
+getting up private theatricals, and this is just the right time."</p>
+
+<p>"Lawrence Raeburn you are a trump!" said Amy, flying round to her
+brother and giving him a hug. "We'll propose it at the first meeting of
+the Ten, and it'll be carried by acclamation."</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said Grace, rising and saying good-afternoon to my mother, with a
+<a name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></a>courtesy to the rest of us, "I'm going straight home to break ground
+there and prepare my mother for great events."</p>
+
+<p>Walking over the fields in great haste, for when one has news to
+communicate, one's feet are wings, Grace was arrested by a groan as of
+somebody in great pain. She looked about cautiously, but it was several
+minutes before she found, lying under the hedge, a boy with a broken
+pitcher at his side. He was deadly pale, and great drops of sweat rolled
+down his face.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you poor boy! What is the matter?" she cried, bending over him in
+great concern.</p>
+
+<p>"I've broke mother's best china pitcher," said the lad, in a despairing
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Poof!" replied Grace. "Pitchers can be mended or replaced. What else is
+wrong? You're not groaning over a broken pitcher, surely!"</p>
+
+<p>"You would, if it came over in the <i>Mayflower</i>, and was all of your
+ancestors' you had left to show that you could be a Colonial Dame.
+Ug-gh!" The boy tried to sit up, gasped and fell back in a dead faint.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness!" said Grace; "he's broken his leg as well as his pitcher.
+Colonial Dames! What nonsense! Well, I can't leave him here."</p>
+
+<p>She had her smelling salts in her satchel, but before she could find
+them, Grace's satchel being an <i>omnium gatherum</i> of a <a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a>remarkably
+miscellaneous character, the lad came to. A fainting person will usually
+regain consciousness soon if laid out flat, with the head a little lower
+than the body. I've seen people persist in keeping a fainting friend in
+a sitting position, which is very stupid and quite cruel.</p>
+
+<p>"I am Doctor Wainwright's daughter," said Grace, "and I see my father's
+gig turning the corner of the road. You shall have help directly. Papa
+will know what to do, so lie still where you are."</p>
+
+<p>The lad obeyed, there plainly being nothing else to be done. In a second
+Doctor Wainwright, at Grace's flag of distress, a white handkerchief
+waving from the top of her parasol, came toward her at the mare's
+fastest pace.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello!" he said. "Here's Archie Vanderhoven in a pickle."</p>
+
+<p>"As usual, doctor," said Archie, faintly. "I've broken mother's last
+pitcher."</p>
+
+<p>"And your leg, I see," observed the doctor, with professional
+directness. "Well, my boy, you must be taken home. Grace, drive home for
+me, and tell the boys to bring a cot here as soon as possible. Meanwhile
+I'll set Archie's leg. It's only a simple fracture." And the doctor from
+his black bag, brought out bandages and instruments. No army surgeon on
+the field of battle was quicker and gentler than Doctor<a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></a> Wainwright,
+whose skill was renowned all over our country-side.</p>
+
+<p>"What is there about the Vanderhovens?" inquired Grace that night as
+they sat by the blaze of hickory logs in the cheery parlor of
+Wishing-Brae.</p>
+
+<p>"The Vanderhovens are a decayed family," her father answered. "They were
+once very well off and lived in state, and from far and near gay parties
+were drawn at Easter and Christmas to dance under their roof. Now they
+are run out. This boy and his mother are the last of the line. Archie's
+father was drowned in the ford when we had the freshet last spring. The
+Ramapo, that looks so peaceful now, overflowed its banks then, and ran
+like a mill-race. I don't know how they manage, but Archie is kept at
+school, and his mother does everything from ironing white frocks for
+summer boarders to making jellies and preserves for people in town, who
+send her orders."</p>
+
+<p>"Is she an educated woman?" inquired Grace.</p>
+
+<p>"That she is. Mrs. Vanderhoven is not only highly educated, but very
+elegant and accomplished. None of her attainments, except those in the
+domestic line, are available, unhappily, when earning a living is in
+question, and she can win her bread only by these housekeeping efforts."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a>"Might I go and see her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why yes, dear, you and the others not only might, but should. She will
+need help. I'll call and consult Mrs. Raeburn about her to-morrow. She
+isn't a woman one can treat like a pauper&mdash;as well born as any one in
+the land, and prouder than Lucifer. It's too bad Archie had to meet with
+this accident; but boys are fragile creatures."</p>
+
+<p>And the doctor, shaking the ashes from his pipe, went off to sit with
+his wife before going to bed.</p>
+
+<p>"I do wonder," said Grace to Eva, "what the boy was doing with the old
+Puritan pitcher, and why a Vanderhoven should have boasted of coming
+over in the <i>Mayflower</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>Eva said: "They're Dutch and English, Grace. The Vanderhovens are from
+Holland, but Archie's mother was a Standish, or something of that sort,
+and her kinsfolk, of course, belonged to the <i>Mayflower</i> crowd. I
+believe Archie meant to sell that pitcher, and if so, no wonder he broke
+his leg. By-the-way, what became of the pieces?"</p>
+
+<p>"I picked them up," said Grace.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VA" id="CHAPTER_VA"></a>CHAPTER V.</h3>
+
+<h4>CEMENTS AND RIVETS.</h4>
+
+
+<p>"How did we ever consent to let our middle daughter stay away all these
+years, mother?" said Dr. Wainwright, addressing his wife.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot tell how it happened, father," she said, musingly. "I think we
+drifted into the arrangement, and you know each year brother was
+expected to bring her back Harriet would plan a jaunt or a journey which
+kept her away, and then, Jack, we've generally been rather out at the
+elbows, and I have been so helpless, that, with our large family, it was
+for Grace's good to let her remain where she was so well provided for."</p>
+
+<p>"She's clear grit, isn't she?" said the doctor, admiringly, stalking to
+and fro in his wife's chamber. "I didn't half like the notion of her
+giving readings; but Charley Raeburn says the world moves and we must
+move with it, and now that her object is not purely a selfish one, I
+withdraw my opposition. I confess, though, darling, I don't enjoy the
+thought that my girls must earn money. I feel differently about the
+boys."</p>
+
+<p>"Jack, dear," said his wife, tenderly, <a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></a>always careful not to wound the
+feelings of this unsuccessful man who was still so loving and so full of
+chivalry, "you needn't mind that in the very least. The girl who doesn't
+want to earn money for herself in these days is in the minority. Girls
+feel it in the air. They all fret and worry, or most of them do, until
+they are allowed to measure their strength and test the commercial worth
+of what they have acquired. You are a dear old fossil, Jack. Just look
+at it in this way: Suppose Mrs. Vanderhoven, brought up in the purple,
+taught to play a little, to embroider a little, to speak a little
+French&mdash;to do a little of many things and nothing well&mdash;had been given
+the sort of education that in her day was the right of every gentleman's
+son, though denied the gentleman's daughter, would her life be so hard
+and narrow and distressful now? Would she be reduced to taking in fine
+washing and hemstitching, and canning fruit?"</p>
+
+<p>"Canning fruit, mother dear," said Miriam, who had just come in to
+procure fresh towels for the bedrooms, "is a fine occupation. Several
+women in the United States are making their fortunes at that. Eva and I,
+who haven't Grace's talents, are thinking of taking it up in earnest. I
+can make preserves, I rejoice to say."</p>
+
+<p>"When you are ready to begin, you shall have my blessing," said her
+father. "I <a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></a>yield to the new order of things." Then as the pretty elder
+daughter disappeared, a sheaf of white lavender-perfumed towels over her
+arm, he said: "Now, dear, I perceive your point. Archie Vanderhoven's
+accident has, however, occurred in the very best possible time for
+Grace. The King's Daughters&mdash;you know what a breezy Ten they are, with
+our Eva and the Raeburns' Amy among them&mdash;are going to give a lift to
+Archie, not to his mother, who might take offence. All the local talent
+of our young people is already enlisted. Our big dining-room is to be
+the hall of ceremonies, and I believe they are to have tableaux, music,
+readings and refreshments. This will come off on the first moonlight
+night, and the proceeds will all go to Archie, to be kept, probably, as
+a nest-egg for his college expenses. That mother of his means him to go
+through college, you know, if she has to pay the fees by hard work,
+washing, ironing, scrubbing, what not."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope the boy's worth it," said Mrs. Wainwright, doubtfully. "Few boys
+are."</p>
+
+<p>"The right boy is," said the doctor, firmly. "In our medical association
+there's one fellow who is on the way to be a famous surgeon. He's fine,
+Jane, the most plucky, persistent man, with the eye, and the nerve, and
+the hand, and the delicacy and steadiness of the surgeon born in him,
+and <a name="Page_210" id="Page_210"></a>confirmed by training. Some of his operations are perfectly
+beautiful, beautiful! He'll be famous over the whole world yet. His
+mother was an Irish charwoman, and she and he had a terrible tug to
+carry him through his studies."</p>
+
+<p>"Is he good to her? Is he grateful?" asked Mrs. Wainwright, much
+impressed.</p>
+
+<p>"Good! grateful! I should say so," said the doctor. "She lives like
+Queen Victoria, rides in her carriage, dresses in black silk, has four
+maids to wait on her. She lives like the first lady in the land, in her
+son's house, and he treats her like a lover. He's a man. He was worth
+all she did. They say," added the doctor, presently, "that sometimes the
+old lady tires of her splendor, sends the maids away to visit their
+cousins, and turns in and works for a day or two like all possessed.
+She's been seen hanging out blankets on a windy day in the back yard,
+with a face as happy as that of a child playing truant."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor, dear old thing," said Mrs. Wainwright. "Well, to go back to our
+girlie, she's to be allowed to take her own way, isn't she, and to be as
+energetic and work as steadily as she likes?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dearest, she shall, for all I'll do or say to the contrary. And
+when my ship comes in I'll pay her back with interest for the loans
+she's made me lately."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></a>The doctor went off to visit his patients. His step had grown light,
+his face had lost its look of alert yet furtive dread. He looked twenty
+years younger. And no wonder. He no longer had to dodge Potter at every
+turn, and a big package of receipted bills, endorsed and dated, lay
+snugly in his desk, the fear of duns exorcised thereby. A man whose path
+has been impeded by the thick underbrush of debts he cannot settle, and
+who finds his obligations cancelled, may well walk gaily along the
+cleared and brightened roadway, hearing birds sing and seeing blue sky
+beaming above his head.</p>
+
+<p>The Ten took hold of the first reading with enthusiasm. Flags were
+borrowed, and blazing boughs of maple and oak, with festoons of crimson
+blackberry vine and armfuls of golden rod transformed the long room into
+a bower. Seats were begged and borrowed, and all the cooks in town made
+cake with fury and pride for the great affair. The tickets were sold
+without much trouble, and the girls had no end of fun in rehearsing the
+tableaux which were decided on as preferable in an entertainment given
+by the King's Daughters, because in tableaux everybody has something to
+do. Grace was to read from "Young Lucretia" and a poem by Hetta Lord
+Hayes Ward, a lovely poem about a certain St. Bridget who trudges up to
+heaven's gate, after her toiling years, and <a name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></a>finds St. Peter waiting to
+set it wide open. The poor, modest thing was an example of Keble's
+lovely stanza:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Meek souls there are who little dream<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their daily life an angel's theme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor that the rod they bear so calm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In heaven may prove a martyr's palm."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Very much astonished at her reception, she is escorted up to the serene
+heights by tall seraphs, who treat her with the greatest reverence. By
+and by along comes a grand lady, one of Bridget's former employers. She
+just squeezes through the gate, and then,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Down heaven's hill a radiant saint<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Comes flying with a palm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Are you here, Bridget O'Flaherty?'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">St. Bridget cries, 'Yes ma'am.'<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Oh, teach me, Bridget, the manners, please,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the royal court above.'<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Sure, honey dear, you'll aisy learn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Humility and love.'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>I haven't time to tell you all about the entertainment, and there is no
+need. You, of course, belong to Tens or to needlework guilds or to
+orders of some kind, and if you are a member of the Order of the Round
+Table why, of course, you are doing good in some way or other, and good
+which enables one to combine social enjoyment and a grand frolic; and
+the making of a purseful of gold and silver for a crippled boy, or an
+aged widow, or a Sunday-school in Dakota, <a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"></a>or a Good Will Farm in Maine,
+is a splendid kind of good.</p>
+
+<p>This chapter is about cements and rivets. It is also about the two
+little schoolmarms.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us take Mrs. Vanderhoven's pitcher to town when we go to call on
+the judge with father," said Amy. "Perhaps it can be mended."</p>
+
+<p>"It may be mended, but I do not think it will hold water again."</p>
+
+<p>"There is a place," said Amy, "where a patient old German frau, with the
+tiniest little bits of rivets that you can hardly see, and the stickiest
+cement you ever did see, repairs broken china. Archie was going to sell
+the pitcher. His mother had said he might. A lady at the hotel had
+promised him five dollars for it as a specimen of some old pottery or
+other. Then he leaped that hedge, caught his foot, fell, and that was
+the end of that five dollars, which was to have gone for a new lexicon
+and I don't know what else."</p>
+
+<p>"It was a fortunate break for Archie. His leg will be as strong as ever,
+and we'll make fifty dollars by our show. I call such a disaster an
+angel in disguise."</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Vanderhoven cried over the pitcher, though. She said it had almost
+broken her heart to let Archie take it out of the house, and she felt it
+was a judgment on her for being willing to part with it."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></a>"Every one has some superstition, I think," said Amy.</p>
+
+<p>Judge Hastings, a tall, soldierly gentleman, with the bearing of a
+courtier, was delighted with the girls, and brought his three little
+women in their black frocks to see their new teachers.</p>
+
+<p>"I warn you, young ladies," he said, "these are spoiled babies. But they
+will do anything for those they love, and they will surely love you. I
+wish them to be thoroughly taught, especially music and calisthenics.
+Can you teach them the latter?"</p>
+
+<p>He fixed his keen, blue eyes on Grace, who colored under the glance, but
+answered bravely:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Judge, I can teach them physical culture and music, too, but I
+won't undertake teaching them to count or to spell."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take charge of that part," said Amy, fearlessly.</p>
+
+<p>Grace's salary was fixed at one thousand dollars, Amy's at five hundred,
+a year, and Grace was to come to her pupils three hours a day for five
+days every week, Amy one hour a day for five days.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll travel together," said Amy, "for I'll be at the League while you
+are pegging away at the teaching of these tots after my hour is over."</p>
+
+<p>If any girl fancies that Grace and Amy had made an easy bargain I
+recommend her <a name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></a>to try the same tasks day in and day out for the weeks of
+a winter. She will discover that she earns her salary. Lucy, Helen and
+Madge taxed their young teachers' utmost powers, but they did them
+credit, and each month, as Grace was able to add comforts to her home,
+to lighten her father's burdens, to remove anxiety from her mother, she
+felt that she would willingly have worked harder.</p>
+
+<p>The little pitcher was repaired so that you never would have known it
+had been broken. Mrs. Vanderhoven set it in the place of honor on top of
+her mantel shelf, and Archie, now able to hobble about, declared that he
+would treasure it for his children's children.</p>
+
+<p>One morning a letter came for Grace. It was from the principal of a
+girls' school in a lovely village up the Hudson, a school attended by
+the daughters of statesmen and millionaires, but one, too, which had
+scholarships for bright girls who desired culture, but whose parents had
+very little money. To attend Miss L&mdash;&mdash;'s school some girls would have
+given more than they could put into words; it was a certificate of good
+standing in society to have been graduated there, while mothers prized
+and girls envied those who were students at Miss L&mdash;&mdash;'s for the
+splendid times they were sure to have.</p>
+
+<p>"Your dear mother," Miss L&mdash;&mdash; wrote,<a name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></a> "will easily recall her old
+schoolmate and friend. I have heard of you, Grace, through my friend,
+Madame Necker, who was your instructress in Paris, and I have two
+objects in writing. One is to secure you as a teacher in reading for an
+advanced class of mine. The class would meet but once a week; your
+office would be to read to them, interpreting the best authors, and to
+influence them in the choice of books adapted for young girls."</p>
+
+<p>Grace held her breath. "Mother!" she exclaimed, "is Miss L&mdash;&mdash; in her
+right mind?"</p>
+
+<p>"A very level-headed person, Grace. Read on."</p>
+
+<p>"I have also a vacant scholarship, and I will let you name a friend of
+yours to fill it. I would like a minister's daughter. Is there any dear
+little twelve-year-old girl who would like to come to my school, and
+whose parents would like to send her, but cannot afford so much expense?
+Because, if there is such a child among your friends, I will give her a
+warm welcome. Jane Wainwright your honored mother, knows that I will be
+too happy thus to add a happiness to her lot in life."</p>
+
+<p>Mother and daughter looked into each other's eyes. One thought was in
+both.</p>
+
+<p>"Laura Raeburn!" they exclaimed together.</p>
+
+<p>Laura Raeburn it was who entered Miss<a name="Page_217" id="Page_217"></a> L&mdash;&mdash;'s, her heart overflowing
+with satisfaction, and so the never-shaken friendship between
+Wishing-Brae and the Manse was made stronger still, as by cements and
+rivets.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIA" id="CHAPTER_VIA"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h3>
+
+<h4>THE TOWER ROOM.</h4>
+
+
+<p>As time went on, Grace surely did not have to share a third part of her
+sisters' room, did she? For nothing is so much prized by most girls as a
+room of their very own, and a middle daughter, particularly such a
+middle daughter as Grace Wainwright, has a claim to a foothold&mdash;a wee
+bit place, as the Scotch say&mdash;where she can shut herself in, and read
+her Bible, and say her prayers, and write her letters, and dream her
+dreams, with nobody by to see. Mrs. Wainwright had been a good deal
+disturbed about there being no room for Grace when she came back to
+Highland, and one would have been fitted up had there been an extra cent
+in the family exchequer. Grace didn't mind, or if she did, she made
+light of her sacrifice; but her sisters felt that they ought to help her
+to privacy.</p>
+
+<p>Eva and Miriam came over to the Manse to consult us in the early days.</p>
+
+<p>I suggested screens.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218"></a>"You can do almost anything with screens and portieres," I said. "One
+of the loveliest rooms I ever saw in my life is in a cottage in the
+Catskills, where one large room is separated into drawing-room, library,
+and dining-room, and sometimes into a spare chamber, as well, by the
+judicious use of screens."</p>
+
+<p>"Could we buy them at any price we could pay?" said Miriam.</p>
+
+<p>"Buy them, child? What are you talking about? You can make them. You
+need only two or three clothes-horses for frames, some chintz, or even
+wall-paper or calico, a few small tacks, a little braid, a hammer and
+patience."</p>
+
+<p>After Grace was fairly launched on her career as teacher, mother
+suggested one day that the tower-room at Wishing-Brae could be
+transformed into a maiden's bower without the spending of much money,
+and that it would make an ideal girl's room, "just the nest for Grace,
+to fold her wings in and sing her songs&mdash;a nest with an outlook over the
+tree-tops and a field of stars above it."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother dear, you are too poetical and romantic for anything, but I
+believe," said Amy, "that it could be done, and if it could it ought."</p>
+
+<p>The tower at Wishing-Brae was then a large, light garret-room, used for
+trunks and <a name="Page_219" id="Page_219"></a>boxes. Many a day have I spent there writing stories when I
+was a child, and oh! what a prospect there was and is from those
+windows&mdash;prospect of moors and mountains, of ribbons of rivers and white
+roads leading out to the great world. You could see all Highland from
+the tower windows. In sunny days and in storms it was a delight beyond
+common just to climb the steep stairs and hide one's self there.</p>
+
+<p>We put our heads together, all of us. We resolved at last that the
+tower-room should be our birthday gift to Grace. It was quite easy to
+contrive and work when she was absent, but not so easy to keep from
+talking about the thing in her presence. Once or twice we almost let it
+out, but she suspected nothing, and we glided over the danger as over
+ice, and hugged ourselves that we had escaped. We meant it for a
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>First of all, of course, the place had to be thoroughly cleaned, then
+whitewashed as to the ceiling, and scoured over and over as to the
+unpainted wood. Archie Vanderhoven and all the brothers of both families
+helped manfully with this, and the two dear old doctors both climbed up
+stairs every day, and gave us their criticism. When the cleanness and
+the sweetness were like the world after the deluge, we began to furnish.
+The floor was stained a deep dark cherry red; Mrs. Raeburn presented the
+room with a <a name="Page_220" id="Page_220"></a>large rug, called an art-square; Mrs. Vanderhoven made
+lovely &eacute;cru curtains of cheese-cloth, full and flowing, for the windows
+and these were caught back by cherry ribbons.</p>
+
+<p>We had a regular controversy over the bed, half of us declaring for a
+folding bed, that could be shut up by day and be an armoire or a
+book-case, the others wanting a white enameled bed with brass knobs and
+bars. The last party carried the day.</p>
+
+<p>The boys hung some shelves, and on these we arranged Grace's favorite
+books. Under the books in the window were her writing-table and her
+chair and foot-stool. The Vanderhovens sent a pair of brass andirons for
+the fireplace, and the little Hastings children, who were taken into the
+secret, contributed a pair of solid silver candlesticks.</p>
+
+<p>Never was there a prettier room than that which we stood and surveyed
+one soft April morning when it was pronounced finished. Our one regret
+was that dear Mrs. Wainwright could not see it. But the oldest of the
+Raeburn boys brought over his camera and took a picture of the room, and
+this was afterwards enlarged and framed for one of Mrs. Wainwright's own
+birthdays.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother dear," said Grace one evening, as they sat together for a
+twilight talk, "do you believe God always answers prayers?"</p>
+
+<p>"Always, my child."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221"></a>"Do you think we can always see the answers, feel sure He has heard
+us?"</p>
+
+<p>"The answers do not always come at once, Grace, nor are they always what
+we expect, but God sends us what is best for us, and He gives us
+strength to help answer the prayers we make. Sometimes prayers are
+answered before they leave our lips. Don't you know that in every 'Oh,
+my Father,' is the answer, 'Here, my child?'"</p>
+
+<p>"I used to long, years ago," said Grace, "when I was as happy as I could
+be with dear uncle and auntie, just to fly to you and my father. It
+seemed sometimes as if I would die just to get home to Highland again,
+and be one of the children. Uncle and auntie want me to go abroad with
+them this summer, just for a visit, and they are so good they will take
+one of my sisters and one of the Raeburns; but I hate to think of the
+ocean between you and me again even for a few weeks."</p>
+
+<p>"You must go, dearie," said Mrs. Wainwright. "The dear uncle is part
+owner of you, darling, and he's very generous; but he can never have you
+back to keep."</p>
+
+<p>"No, indeed."</p>
+
+<p>"Which of the Raeburns do you suppose they can best spare?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know which they would choose to spare, but Amy will be the one
+to go.<a name="Page_222" id="Page_222"></a> She was born under a fortunate star, and the rest will help to
+send her."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like Frances myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Frances is the stay-at-home daughter. She cannot be spared. It will be
+Amy, and I will let Miriam go with you, and Eva, who is the youngest,
+can wait for her turn some other day."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that Burden's cart going down the lane?" inquired Grace, looking out
+of the window. "It's queer how many errands Mr. Burden's had here
+lately. I believe he's been investing in another cart, or else he has
+painted the old one. Business must be brisk. There come papa, and Dr.
+Raeburn with him. Why, mother, all the Raeburns are coming! If there is
+to be company, I might have been told."</p>
+
+<p>"So might I," said Mrs. Wainwright, with spirit. "Hurry, Grace, bring me
+some cologne and water to wash my face and hands, and give me my
+rose-pink wrapper. Turn the key in the door, dearie. An invalid should
+never be seen except looking her best. You can slip away and get into a
+tea gown before you meet them, if they are coming to supper. Whose
+birthday is it? This seems to be a surprise party."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, mamma&mdash;it's my birthday; but you don't think there's anything on
+foot that I don't know of&mdash;do you, dearest?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't like to say what I think, my <a name="Page_223" id="Page_223"></a>pet. There, the coast is
+clear. Run away and change your gown. Whoever wished to see me now may
+do so. The queen is ready to give audience. Just wheel my chair a little
+to the left, so that I can catch the last of that soft pink after-glow."</p>
+
+<p>"And were you really entirely unprepared, Grace," said the girls later,
+"and didn't you ever for a single moment notice anything whatsoever we
+were doing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never for one instant. I missed my Tennyson and my French Bible, but
+thought Eva had borrowed them, and in my wildest imagination I never
+dreamed you would furnish a lovely big room at the top of the house all
+for me, my own lone self. It doesn't seem right for me to accept it."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, but it is quite right!" said her father, tenderly, "and here is
+something else&mdash;a little birthday check from me to my daughter. Since
+you came home and set me on my feet I've prospered as never before. Eva
+has collected ever so many of my bills, and I've sold a corner of the
+meadow for a good round sum, a corner that never seemed to me to be
+worth anything. I need not stay always in your debt, financially, dear
+little woman."</p>
+
+<p>"But, papa."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Grace."</p>
+
+<p>"Your father is right, Grace," said the sweet low tones of Mrs.
+Wainwright, even <a name="Page_224" id="Page_224"></a>and firm. "Through God's goodness you have had the
+means and disposition to help him, but neither of us ever intended to
+rest our weight always on your shoulders. You needn't work so hard
+hereafter, unless you wish, to."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, dear papa," said Grace. "I shall work just as hard, because
+I love to work, and because I am thus returning to the world some part
+of what I owe it; and next year, who knows, I may be able to pay Eva's
+bills at Miss L&mdash;&mdash;'s."</p>
+
+<p>Eva jumped up and down with delight.</p>
+
+<p>Then came supper, served in Mrs. Wainwright's room, and after that music
+and a long merry talk, and at last, lest Mrs. Wainwright should be
+weary, the Raeburns took their way homeward over the lane and across the
+fields to the Manse.</p>
+
+<p>Grace from the tower window watched them going, the light of the moon
+falling in golden clearness over the fields and farms just waiting for
+spring,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"To serve the present age<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My calling to fulfill,<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>she whispered to herself. "Good-night, dear ones all, good-night," she
+said a little later climbing up the tower stair to her new room.</p>
+
+<p>"God bless you, middle daughter," said her father's deep tones.</p>
+
+<p>Soft, hushed footsteps pattered after the <a name="Page_225" id="Page_225"></a>girl, step by step. She
+thought herself all alone as she shut the door, but presently a cold
+nose was thrust against her hand, a furry head rubbed her knee. Fido,
+the pet fox-terrier, had determined for his part to share the
+tower-room.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="The_Golden_Bird2" id="The_Golden_Bird2"></a>The Golden Bird.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></h3>
+
+<h4>BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM.</h4>
+
+
+<p>In times gone by there was a king who had at the back of his castle a
+beautiful pleasure garden, in which stood a tree that bore golden
+apples. As the apples ripened they were counted, but one morning one was
+missing. Then the king was angry, and he ordered that a watch should be
+kept about the tree every night. Now the king had three sons, and he
+sent the eldest to spend the whole night in the garden; so he watched
+till midnight, and then he could keep off sleep no longer, and in the
+morning another apple was missing. The second son had to watch the
+following night; but it fared no better, for when twelve o'clock had
+struck he went to sleep, and in the morning another apple was missing.
+Now came the turn of the third son to watch, and he was ready to do so;
+but the king had less trust in him, and believed he would acquit himself
+still worse than his brothers, but in the end he consented to let him
+try. So the young man lay down under the tree to <a name="Page_227" id="Page_227"></a>watch, and resolved
+that sleep should not be master. When it struck twelve something came
+rushing through the air, and he saw in the moonlight a bird flying
+towards him, whose feathers glittered like gold. The bird perched upon
+the tree, and had already pecked off an apple, when the young man let
+fly an arrow at it. The bird flew away, but the arrow had struck its
+plumage, and one of its golden feathers fell to the ground; the young
+man picked it up, and taking it next morning to the king, told him what
+had happened in the night. The king called his council together, and all
+declared that such a feather was worth more than the whole kingdom.</p>
+
+<p>"Since the feather is so valuable," said the king, "one is not enough
+for me; I must and will have the whole bird."</p>
+
+<p>So the eldest son set off, and, relying on his own cleverness, he
+thought he should soon find the golden bird. When he had gone some
+distance he saw a fox sitting at the edge of a wood and he pointed his
+gun at him. The fox cried out:</p>
+
+<p>"Do not shoot me and I will give you good counsel. You are on your way
+to find the golden bird, and this evening you will come to a village in
+which two taverns stand facing each other. One will be brightly lighted
+up, and there will be plenty of merriment going on inside; do not mind
+about <a name="Page_228" id="Page_228"></a>that, but go into the other one, although it will look to you
+very uninviting."</p>
+
+<p>"How can a silly beast give anyone rational advice?" thought the king's
+son, and let fly at the fox, but he missed him, and he stretched out his
+tail and ran quick into the wood. Then the young man went on his way,
+and toward evening he came to the village and there stood the two
+taverns; in one singing and revelry were going on, the other looked
+quite dull and wretched. "I should be a fool," said he, "to go into that
+dismal place while there is anything so good close by." So he went into
+the merry inn and there lived in clover, quite forgetting the bird and
+his father and all good counsel.</p>
+
+<p>As time went on, and the eldest son never came home, the second son set
+out to seek the golden bird. He met with the fox, just as the eldest
+did, and received good advice from him without attending to it. And when
+he came to the two taverns his brother was standing and calling to him
+at the window of one of them, out of which came sounds of merriment; so
+he could not resist, but went and reveled to his heart's content.</p>
+
+<p>And then, as time went on, the youngest son wished to go forth and to
+try his luck, but his father would not consent.</p>
+
+<p>"It would be useless," said he; "he is much less likely to find the bird
+than his brothers, and if any misfortune were to <a name="Page_229" id="Page_229"></a>happen to him he would
+not know how to help himself, his wits are none of the best."</p>
+
+<p>But at last, as there was no peace to be had, he let him go. By the side
+of the wood sat the fox, begged him to spare his life and gave him good
+counsel. The young man was kind and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Be easy, little fox, I will do you no harm."</p>
+
+<p>"You shall not repent of it," answered the fox, "and that you may get
+there all the sooner get up and sit on my tail."</p>
+
+<p>And no sooner had he done so than the fox began to run, and off they
+went over stock and stone, so that the wind whistled in their hair. When
+they reached the village the young man got down and, following the fox's
+advice, went into the mean looking tavern without hesitating, and there
+he passed a quiet night. The next morning, when he went out into the
+field, the fox, who was sitting there already, said:</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you further what you have to do. Go straight on until you
+come to a castle, before which a great band of soldiers lie, but do not
+trouble yourself about them, for they will be all asleep and snoring;
+pass through them and forward into the castle, and go through all the
+rooms until you come to one where there is a golden bird hanging in a
+wooden cage. Near at hand will stand empty a golden cage of state, but
+you must <a name="Page_230" id="Page_230"></a>beware of taking the bird out of his ugly cage and putting him
+into the fine one; if you do so you will come to harm."</p>
+
+<p>After he had finished saying this the fox stretched out his tail again,
+and the king's son sat him down upon it; then away they went over stock
+and stone, so that the wind whistled through their hair. And when the
+king's son reached the castle he found everything as the fox had said;
+and he at last entered the room where the golden bird was hanging in a
+wooden cage, while a golden one was standing by; the three golden
+apples, too, were in the room. Then, thinking it foolish to let the
+beautiful bird stay in that mean and ugly cage, he opened the door of
+it, took hold of it and put it in the golden one. In the same moment the
+bird uttered a piercing cry. The soldiers awaked, rushed in, seized the
+king's son and put him in prison. The next morning he was brought before
+a judge, and, as he confessed everything, condemned to death. But the
+king said that he would spare his life on one condition, that he should
+bring him the golden horse whose paces were swifter than the wind, and
+that then he should also receive the golden bird as a reward.</p>
+
+<p>So the king's son set off to find the golden horse, but he sighed and
+was very sad, for how should it be accomplished? And then <a name="Page_231" id="Page_231"></a>he saw his
+old friend, the fox, sitting by the roadside.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, you see," said the fox, "all this has happened because you would
+not listen to me. But be of good courage, I will bring you through, and
+will tell you how to get the golden horse. You must go straight on until
+you come to a castle, where the horse stands in his stable; before the
+stable-door the grooms will be lying, but they will all be asleep and
+snoring, and you can go and quietly lead out the horse. But one thing
+you must mind&mdash;take care to put upon him the plain saddle of wood and
+leather, and not the golden one, which will hang close by, otherwise it
+will go badly with you."</p>
+
+<p>Then the fox stretched out his tail and the king's son seated himself
+upon it, and away they went over stock and stone until the wind whistled
+through their hair. And everything happened just as the fox had said,
+and he came to the stall where the golden horse was, and as he was about
+to put on him the plain saddle he thought to himself:</p>
+
+<p>"Such a beautiful animal would be disgraced were I not to put on him the
+good saddle, which becomes him so well."</p>
+
+<p>However, no sooner did the horse feel the golden saddle touch him than
+he began to neigh. And the grooms all awoke, seized the king's son and
+threw him into prison.<a name="Page_232" id="Page_232"></a> The next morning he was delivered up to justice
+and condemned to death, but the king promised him his life, and also to
+bestow upon him the golden horse if he could convey thither the
+beautiful princess of the golden castle.</p>
+
+<p>With a heavy heart the king's son set out, but by great good luck he
+soon met with the faithful fox.</p>
+
+<p>"I ought now to leave you to your own fate," said the fox, "but I am
+sorry for you, and will once more help you in your need. Your way lies
+straight up to the golden castle. You will arrive there in the evening,
+and at night, when all is quiet, the beautiful princess goes to the
+bath. And as she is entering the bathing-house go up to her and give her
+a kiss, then she will follow you and you can lead her away; but do not
+suffer her first to go and take leave of her parents, or it will go ill
+with you."</p>
+
+<p>Then the fox stretched out his tail, the king's son seated himself upon
+it, and away they went over stock and stone, so that the wind whistled
+through their hair. And when he came to the golden castle all was as the
+fox had said. He waited until midnight, when all lay in deep sleep, and
+then as the beautiful princess went to the bathing-house he went up to
+her and gave her a kiss, and she willingly promised to go with him, but
+she begged him earnestly, and with <a name="Page_233" id="Page_233"></a>tears, that he would let her first
+go and take leave of her parents. At first he denied her prayer, but as
+she wept so much the more, and fell at his feet, he gave in at last. And
+no sooner had the princess reached her father's bedside than he, and all
+who were in the castle, waked up and the young man was seized and thrown
+into prison.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning the king said to him:</p>
+
+<p>"Thy life is forfeit, but thou shalt find grace if thou canst level that
+mountain that lies before my windows, and over which I am not able to
+see; and if this is done within eight days thou shalt have my daughter
+for a reward."</p>
+
+<p>So the king's son set to work and dug and shoveled away without ceasing,
+but when, on the seventh day, he saw how little he had accomplished, and
+that all his work was as nothing, he fell into great sadness and gave up
+all hope. But on the evening of the seventh day the fox appeared and
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"You do not deserve that I should help you, but go now and lie down to
+sleep and I will do the work for you."</p>
+
+<p>The next morning when he awoke and looked out of the window the mountain
+had disappeared. The young man hastened full of joy to the king and told
+him that his behest was fulfilled, and, whether the king liked it or
+not, he had to keep his word and let his daughter go.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234"></a>So they both went away together, and it was not long before the
+faithful fox came up to them.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you have got the best first," said he, "but you must know that
+the golden horse belongs to the princess of the golden castle."</p>
+
+<p>"But how shall I get it?" asked the young man.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to tell you," answered the fox. "First, go to the king who
+sent you to the golden castle and take to him the beautiful princess.
+There will then be very great rejoicing. He will willingly give you the
+golden horse, and they will lead him out to you; then mount him without
+delay and stretch out your hand to each of them to take leave, and last
+of all to the princess, and when you have her by the hand swing her upon
+the horse behind you and off you go! Nobody will be able to overtake
+you, for that horse goes swifter than the wind."</p>
+
+<p>And so it was all happily done, and the king's son carried off the
+beautiful princess on the golden horse. The fox did not stay behind, and
+he said to the young man:</p>
+
+<p>"Now, I will help you to get the golden bird. When you draw near the
+castle where the bird is let the lady alight, and I will take her under
+my care; then you must ride the golden horse into the castle yard, and
+there will be great rejoicing to see it, and <a name="Page_235" id="Page_235"></a>they will bring out to you
+the golden bird; as soon as you have the cage in your hand you must
+start off back to us, and then you shall carry the lady away."</p>
+
+<p>The plan was successfully carried out, and when the young man returned
+with the treasure the fox said:</p>
+
+<p>"Now, what will you give me for my reward?"</p>
+
+<p>"What would you like?" asked the young man.</p>
+
+<p>"When we are passing through the wood I desire that you should slay me,
+and cut my head and feet off."</p>
+
+<p>"That were a strange sign of gratitude," said the king's son, "and I
+could not possibly do such a thing."</p>
+
+<p>Then said the fox:</p>
+
+<p>"If you will not do it, I must leave you; but before I go let me give
+you some good advice. Beware of two things; buy no gallows-meat, and sit
+at no brookside." With that the fox ran off into the wood.</p>
+
+<p>The young man thought to himself, "that is a wonderful animal, with most
+singular ideas. How should any one buy gallows-meat? and I am sure I
+have no particular fancy for sitting by a brookside."</p>
+
+<p>So he rode on with the beautiful princess, and their way led them
+through the village where his two brothers had stayed. There they heard
+great outcry and noise, and when <a name="Page_236" id="Page_236"></a>he asked what it was all about, they
+told him that two people were going to be hanged. And when he drew near
+he saw that it was his two brothers, who had done all sorts of evil
+tricks, and had wasted all their goods. He asked if there were no means
+of setting them free.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes! if you will buy them off," answered the people; "but why
+should you spend your money in redeeming such worthless men?"</p>
+
+<p>But he persisted in doing so; and when they were let go they all went on
+their journey together.</p>
+
+<p>After a while they came to the wood where the fox had met them first,
+and there it seemed so cool and sheltered from the sun's burning rays
+that the two brothers said:</p>
+
+<p>"Let us rest here for a little by the brook, and eat and drink to
+refresh ourselves."</p>
+
+<p>The young man consented, quite forgetting the fox's warning, and he
+seated himself by the brookside, suspecting no evil. But the two
+brothers thrust him backwards into the brook, seized the princess, the
+horse, and the bird, and went home to their father.</p>
+
+<p>"Is not this the golden bird that we bring?" said they; "and we have
+also the golden horse, and the princess of the golden castle."</p>
+
+<p>Then there was great rejoicing in the royal <a name="Page_237" id="Page_237"></a>castle, but the horse did
+not feed, the bird did not chirp, and the princess sat still and wept.</p>
+
+<p>The youngest brother, however, had not perished. The brook was by good
+fortune dry, and he fell on the soft moss without receiving any hurt,
+but he could not get up again. But in his need the faithful fox was not
+lacking; he came up running and reproached him for having forgotten his
+advice.</p>
+
+<p>"But I cannot forsake you all the same," said he. "I will help you back
+again into daylight." So he told the young man to grasp his tail and
+hold on to it fast, and so he drew him up again.</p>
+
+<p>"Still you are not quite out of all danger," said the fox; "your
+brothers, not being certain of your death, have surrounded the woods
+with sentinels, who are to put you to death if you let yourself be
+seen."</p>
+
+<p>A poor beggar-man was sitting by the path and the young man changed
+clothes with him, and went clad in that wise into the king's courtyard.
+Nobody knew him, but the bird began to chirp, and the horse began to
+feed, and the beautiful princess ceased weeping.</p>
+
+<p>"What does this mean?" said the king, astonished.</p>
+
+<p>The princess answered:</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot tell, except that I was sad and <a name="Page_238" id="Page_238"></a>now I am joyful; it is to me
+as if my rightful bridegroom had returned."</p>
+
+<p>Then she told him all that happened, although the two brothers had
+threatened to put her to death if she betrayed any of their secrets. The
+king then ordered every person who was in the castle to be brought
+before him, and with the rest came the young man like a beggar in his
+wretched garments; but the princess knew him and greeted him lovingly,
+falling on his neck and kissing him. The wicked brothers were seized and
+put to death, and the youngest brother was married to the princess and
+succeeded to the inheritance of his father.</p>
+
+<p>But what became of the poor fox? Long afterward the king's son was going
+through the wood and the fox met him and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Now, you have everything that you can wish for, but my misfortunes
+never come to an end, and it lies in your power to free me from them."
+And once more he prayed the king's son earnestly to slay him and cut off
+his head and feet. So at last he consented, and no sooner was it done
+than the fox was changed into a man, and was no other than the brother
+of the beautiful princess; and thus he was set free from a spell that
+had bound him for a long, long time.</p>
+
+<p>And now, indeed, there lacked nothing to their happiness as long as they
+lived.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3><p><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239"></a></p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> This is a fairy tale, pure and simple, but we must have a
+little nonsense now and then, and it does us no harm, but on the
+contrary much good.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="Harry_Pembertons_Text" id="Harry_Pembertons_Text"></a>Harry Pemberton's Text.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY ELIZABETH ARMSTRONG.</h4>
+
+
+<p>"He that hath clean hands and a pure heart."</p>
+
+<p>Harry Pemberton went down the street whistling a merry tune. It was one
+I like very much, and you all know it, for it has been played by street
+bands and organs, and heard on every street corner for as many years as
+you boys have been living on the earth. "Wait till the clouds roll by,
+Jenny, wait till the clouds roll by." The lads I am writing this story
+for are between ten and fourteen years old, and they know that the
+clouds do once in a while roll around a person's path, and block the
+way, because fogs and mists <i>can</i> block the way just as well as a big
+black stone wall.</p>
+
+<p>At the corner of the street a red-headed, blue-eyed lad, a head taller
+than Harry, joined the latter. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and
+walked beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said this last comer, whose name was Frank Fletcher, "will your
+mother let you go, Harry, boy? I hope she doesn't object."</p>
+
+<p>"But she does," said Harry, quickly<a name="Page_240" id="Page_240"></a> "Mother doesn't think it right for
+us to start on such an expedition and she says all parents will say the
+same."</p>
+
+<p>"Of all things, where can the harm be? Only none of the rest of us have
+to ask leave, as you do."</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," said Harry, disregarding this speech, "is of the opinion that
+to enter a man's garden by the back gate, when the family are all away,
+is breaking into his premises and going where you haven't a right, and
+is burglary, and if you take flowers or anything, then it's stealing.
+Mere vulgar stealing, she says."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Harry Pemberton, how dare you say <i>stealing</i> to me?" And Frank's
+red hair stood up like a fiery flame.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm only quoting mother. Don't get mad, Frank."</p>
+
+<p>"Does your mother know it's to decorate the soldiers' graves that we
+want the flowers, and that Squire Eliot won't be home till next year,
+and there are hundreds 'n hundreds of flowers fading and wasting and
+dying on his lawn and garden, and furthermore that he'd <i>like</i> the
+fellows to decorate the cemetery with his flowers? Does she know that, I
+say?" and the blue-eyed lad gesticulated fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>"All is," replied Harry, firmly, "that you boys can go ahead if you
+like, but mother won't let me, and you must count me out."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241"></a>"All is," said Frank, mimicking Harry's tone, "you're a mother-boy, and
+we fellows won't have anything more to do with you." So they sent him to
+Coventry, which means that they let him alone severely. They had begun
+to do it already, which was why he whistled so merrily to show he did
+not mind.</p>
+
+<p>I never for my part could see that there was any disgrace in being a
+mother-boy. But I suppose a boy thinks he is called babyish, if the name
+is fastened on him. As Harry went on his errand, he no longer whistled,
+at least he didn't whistle much. And as he went to school next day, and
+next day, and next day, and found himself left out in the cold, he would
+have been more than the usual twelve-year-old laddie if he had not felt
+his courage fail. But he had his motto text to bolster him up.</p>
+
+<p>"Clean hands, Harry, and a pure heart," said Mrs. Pemberton, cheerfully.
+"It cannot be right to steal flowers or anything else even to decorate
+the graves of our brave soldiers."</p>
+
+<p>And so the time passed&mdash;kite time, top time, hoop time, marble time.</p>
+
+<p>It was the evening before Memorial Day, at last.</p>
+
+<p>There was a good deal of stirring in the village. It was splendid
+moonlight. You could see to read large print. A whole crowd of boys met
+at the store and took their way <a name="Page_242" id="Page_242"></a>across lots to the beautiful old Eliot
+place. The big house, with its broad porch and white columns, stood out
+in the glory of the moon. The gardens were sweet in the dew. Violets,
+lilies, roses, lilacs, snow-drops, whole beds of them.</p>
+
+<p>Every boy, and there were ten of them, had a basket and a pair of
+shears. They meant to get all the flowers they could carry and despoil
+the Eliot place, if necessary, to make the cemetery a grand looking spot
+to-morrow, when the veterans and the militia should be out with bands of
+music and flying flags, and the Governor, no less, coming in person to
+review the troops and make a speech in the very place where his own
+father was buried.</p>
+
+<p>In went the boys. Over the stile, up the paths, clear on toward the
+front portico. They separated into little groups and began to cut their
+flowers, the Eliots' flowers, all the Eliots in Europe, and not a soul
+on hand to save their property.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the boys were arrested and paralyzed with fright.</p>
+
+<p>An immense form leaped from behind the house and a deep-throated, baying
+bark resounded in a threatening roar. Juno, Squire Eliot's famous
+mastiff, the one that had taken a prize at the dog show, bounded out
+toward the marauders. They turned to fly, when a stern voice bade them
+stop.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243"></a>"You young rapscallions! You trespassers! You rascals! Stop this
+instant or I'll thrash every one of you! Humph!" said Squire Eliot,
+brandishing his cane, as the boys stopped and tremblingly came forward.
+"This is how my neighbors' sons treat my property when I'm away. Line up
+there against the fence, every one of you. <i>Charge</i>, Juno! <i>Charge</i>,
+good dog!"</p>
+
+<p>Squire Eliot looked keenly at the boys, every one of whom he knew.</p>
+
+<p>"Solomon's methods are out of fashion," he said, "and if I send you boys
+home the chances are that your fathers won't whip you as you deserve to
+be whipped, so I'll do the job myself. Fortunate thing I happened to
+change my plans and come home for the summer, instead of going away as I
+expected. I heard there was a plan of this sort on foot, but I didn't
+believe it till I overheard the whole thing talked of in the village
+this afternoon. Well, boys, I'll settle with you once for all, and then
+I'll forgive you, but you've got to pay the penalty first. Frank, hold
+out your hand."</p>
+
+<p>But just then there was an interruption. Lights appeared in the windows
+and a dainty little lady came upon the scene. The boys knew Grandmother
+Eliot, who wore her seventy years with right queenly grace, and never
+failed to have a kind word for man, woman and child in the old home.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244"></a>"Eugene," she called to the Squire, imperatively, "I can't allow this,
+my son. The boys have been punished enough. Their fault was in not
+seeing that you cannot do evil that good may come. Let every one of
+these young gentlemen come here to me. I want to talk with them."</p>
+
+<p>Now it is probable that most of the boys would have preferred a sharp
+blow or two from the Squire's cane to a reproof from his gentle old
+mother, whose creed led her to heap coals of fire on the heads of those
+who did wrong. But they had no choice. There was no help for it. They
+had to go up, shears, baskets and all, and let old Lady Eliot talk to
+them; and then, as they were going away, who should come out but a
+white-capped maid, with cake and lemonade, to treat the young
+depredators to refreshments.</p>
+
+<p>"There's only one fellow in our class who deserves cake and lemonade,"
+exclaimed Frank, "and he isn't here. We've all treated him meaner than
+dirt. We've been horrid to him, because he wouldn't join us in this. Now
+he's out of this scrape and we're in."</p>
+
+<p>"Harry Pemberton," said Squire Eliot, who had locked up his cane, and
+was quite calm, "Harry Pemberton, that's Lida Scott's boy, mother. Lida
+would bring him up well, I'm sure. Well, he shall have a <a name="Page_245" id="Page_245"></a>lot of roses
+to-morrow to lay on Colonel Pemberton's grave. Isn't that fair, boys?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes," assented they all, with eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>"And as you have by your own admission treated Harry rather badly,
+suppose you make it up to him by coming here in the morning, carrying
+the roses to his house, and owning that you regret your behavior."</p>
+
+<p>It was rather a bitter pill, but the boys swallowed it bravely.</p>
+
+<p>Next day, as Harry and his mother, laden with dog-wood boughs and
+branches of lilac, set out for the little spot most sacred to them on
+earth, they met a procession which was headed by Frank Fletcher. The
+procession had a drum and a flag, and it had roses galore.</p>
+
+<p>"Honest roses, Harry," said Frank. "The Squire is at home and he gave
+them to us for you. Let me tell you about it."</p>
+
+<p>The story was told from beginning to end. Then Mrs. Pemberton said,
+"Now, boys, take for your everlasting motto from this time forth, 'Clean
+hands and a pure heart.'"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="Our_Cats" id="Our_Cats"></a>Our Cats.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The first cat of our recollection was a large, sleek, black and white
+animal, the pet and plaything of our very early childhood. Tom, as we
+called him, seemed much attached to us all, but when we moved from the
+house of his kittendom and attempted to keep him with us, we found that
+we had reckoned without our host; all our efforts were in vain; the cat
+returned to its former home and we gave it up as lost to us.</p>
+
+<p>The months sped along and we children had almost forgotten our late
+favorite, when one day he came mewing into the yard, and in so pitiable
+a condition that all our hearts were moved for him. He was in an
+emaciated state distressing to behold, and then one of his hind legs was
+broken so that the bone protruded through the skin. The dear old cat was
+at once fed, but it was soon seen that his injury was incurable, and our
+truly humane father said the only thing to do with Tom was to put him
+out of his misery. This was done, but we have ever kept in mind the cat
+that would not go from its first home, even with those it loved, and yet
+remembered those friends and came to them in trouble. I should have
+stated above, that the two homes were less than a mile apart.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247"></a>Morris was another black and white cat, named Morris from our minister,
+who gave him to brother. He was a fine fellow, and would jump a bar four
+feet from the floor. But brother obtained a pair of tiny squirrels, the
+striped squirrels, and feared that Morris would catch them, for he was
+all alert when he spied them, and so the cat was sent to the house of a
+friend, as this friend wished to possess him. Morris was let out of the
+basket in which he was carried into our friend's kitchen, and giving one
+frightened look at his surroundings he sprang up the chimney and was
+never seen by any of his early friends again. Poor Morris, we never knew
+his fate!</p>
+
+<p>One cat we named Snowball, just because he was so black. This cat was an
+unprincipled thief, and all unknown to us a person who disliked cats in
+general, and thieving cats in particular, killed Snowball.</p>
+
+<p>We once owned an old cat and her daughter, and when the mother had
+several kittens and the daughter had but one, the grandmother stole the
+daughter's kitten, and though the young mother cried piteously she never
+regained possession of her child. Again, once when our brother was
+ploughing he overturned a rabbit's nest, and taking the young rabbits
+therefrom he gave them to the cat, who had just been robbed of her
+kittens. Pussy was at once devoted to these <a name="Page_248" id="Page_248"></a>babies, and cared for them
+tenderly, never for a moment neglecting them. Nevertheless, they died,
+one by one; their foster mother's care was not the kind they needed.</p>
+
+<p>Of all our cats we speak most tenderly of Friskie. She was brought when
+a kitten to our farm home, and if ever cat deserved eulogy it was she. A
+small cat with black coat and white breast and legs, not particularly
+handsome, but thoroughly good and very intelligent. The children played
+with her as they would; she was never known to scratch them, but would
+show her disapproval of any rough handling by a tap with her tiny velvet
+paw. She was too kind to scratch them.</p>
+
+<p>Friskie grew up with Trip, our little black and tan dog, and though Trip
+was selfish with her, Friskie loved him and showed her affection in
+various ways. If the dog came into the house wet with dew or rain the
+dear little cat would carefully dry him all off with her tongue, and
+though he growled at her for her officiousness she would persevere till
+the task was accomplished, and then the two would curl up behind the
+stove and together take a nap.</p>
+
+<p>When we became the owner of a canary, Friskie at once showed feline
+propensities; she wanted that bird, and saw no reason why she should be
+denied it. But when, from <a name="Page_249" id="Page_249"></a>various tokens, Friskie learned that we
+valued it, she never again evinced any desire for the canary. And when,
+afterward, we raised a nest of birdlings, the little cat never attempted
+to touch them; no, not even when one flew out of doors and alighted
+almost at her feet. Instead of seizing it, Friskie watched us as we
+captured and returned it to the cage.</p>
+
+<p>The writer of this story became ill with extreme prostration, and now
+Friskie showed her affection in a surprising manner. Each morning she
+came into our room with a tidbit, such as she was sure was toothsome:
+Mice, rats, at one time a half-grown rabbit, and, at length, a bird.</p>
+
+<p>It was warm weather, the room windows were open, and being upon the
+first floor, when Friskie brought in her offerings they were seized and
+thrown from the window to the ground. At this she would spring after the
+delicacy and bring it back in a hurry, determined that it should be
+eaten, mewing and coaxing just as she might with her kittens. That the
+food was not accepted evidently distressed her. When she came with the
+little bird, she uttered her usual coaxing sound, and then, when it was
+unheeded, she sprung upon the bed and was about to give it to the
+invalid, who uttered a scream of fright. At this dear Friskie fled from
+the room and, we think, she never <a name="Page_250" id="Page_250"></a>brought another treat. It was useless
+to try to treat a person so unappreciative.</p>
+
+<p>At one time, when Friskie was the proud mother of four pretty kittens,
+she was greatly troubled with the liberties that young Herbert, aged
+three, took with her family. The little boy didn't want to hurt the tiny
+creatures, but he would hold them and play with them.</p>
+
+<p>Mother cat bore this for a time, and then carried the kittens away to
+the barn, and hid them where no one but herself could find them.</p>
+
+<p>While these babies were yet young Herbert was taken away for a visit.
+Strange to say, that upon the morning of the child's departure Friskie
+came leading the little ones down to the house. They could walk now, and
+at first she came part of the distance with three of them, stopped,
+surveyed her group and went back for the remaining kitten. All we have
+told is strictly true; it was evident that the cat knew when the
+disturber of her peace was gone, and also evident that she knew how many
+were her children.</p>
+
+<p>Friskie died at the age of twelve, the most lovable and intelligent cat
+we have ever known.</p>
+
+<p>Of late we have had two maltese cats in our kitchen, one old, the other
+young. The old cat has been jealous and cross with the <a name="Page_251" id="Page_251"></a>young one, while
+the young cat has been kind and pleasant with her companion. One day the
+young cat, Friskie's namesake, sat and meowed piteously. We were
+present, and for a time did not notice her, for she is very
+demonstrative. What was our surprise to see her go to a low closet in
+the room and lie down, stretch her paws over her head, and by an effort
+pull open the door to release the old cat, who had accidentally been
+shut up in this closet.</p>
+
+<p>The old cat is always very reticent, and would not ask to be let out.
+Her usual way of asking to have a door open is to tap upon it with her
+paw. She scarcely ever meows.</p>
+
+<p>We might have enlarged upon these incidents, but have simply told facts.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="Outovplace" id="Outovplace"></a>Outovplace.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There's a very strange country called Outovplace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(I've been there quite often, have you?)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the people can't find the things they want,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And hardly know what to do.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If a boy's in a hurry, and wants his cap,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or a basin to wash his face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He never can find that on its nail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or this in its proper place.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His shoe hides far away under the lounge;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His handkerchief's gone astray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! how can a boy get off to school,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If he's always bothered this way?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh! a very queer country is Outovplace&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(Did you say you had been there?)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then you've seen, like me, a slate on the floor<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And a book upon the stair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You think they are easy to find, at least!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O, yes! if they would but stay<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just there till they're wanted; but then they don't;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Alas! that isn't the way.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When a boy wants his hat, he sees his ball,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As plain as ever can be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when he has time for a game, not a sign<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of bat or a ball finds he.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sometimes a good man is just off to the train,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">(That is, it is time to go);<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he can't put his hand on his Sunday hat!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It surely must vex him, I know.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">If somebody wants to drive a nail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It's "Where is the hammer, my dear?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so it goes, week in, week out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And truly all the year.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How 'twould gladden the women of Outovplace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If the boys and girls themselves<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should wake up some morning determined quite<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To use hooks, closets and shelves.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="The_Boy_Who_Dared_to_Be_a_Daniel" id="The_Boy_Who_Dared_to_Be_a_Daniel"></a>The Boy Who Dared to Be a Daniel.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY S. JENNIE SMITH.</h4>
+
+
+<p>Sunday-school was dismissed and the children were going, some in one
+direction, some in another, to their homes. The majority of them were
+chatting merrily of the proposed strawberry festival, but one little
+fellow seemed to be engrossed with more serious thoughts. He was alone
+and apparently unconscious of the nearness of his companions until a lad
+about his own age joined him and inquired, "Say, Ralph, what are you
+thinking of? You look as wise as an owl."</p>
+
+<p>"I should hope I was a little bit wiser than a bird," answered Ralph,
+with a smile. "But I was just awondering, Ned, if I could be brave
+enough to go into the lion's den like Daniel did. I wouldn't like to
+stop praying to God, but it would be pretty hard to make up your mind to
+face a lot of lions."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed; but then father says that we don't need grace to do those
+hard things until we are called upon to do them, and then if we ask God,
+He will give us the strength we require. All we've got to do is <a name="Page_255" id="Page_255"></a>to
+attend to the duty nearest us, and seek for strength for that."</p>
+
+<p>Ned was the minister's son and had enjoyed many an instructive talk with
+his kind father.</p>
+
+<p>"He says, too, that we are often called upon to face other kinds of
+lions in this life, if we persist as we ought in doing the right. But
+here we part, Ralph, good-bye," and the boy turned off into a side road,
+leaving Ralph again alone.</p>
+
+<p>Ralph's way led through a quiet country lane, for his home was beyond
+the village where nearly all of his companions lived.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I won't have to go into the lion's den to-day," he said to
+himself, as he sauntered along; "and when I do I guess God will give me
+the strength," and with this thought a gayer frame of mind came to him.
+"But it must be grand to be a Daniel."</p>
+
+<p>Just then two large boys crept stealthily from the bushes that lined one
+side of the road and looked anxiously around. "Say, John, there's
+Ralph," one of them muttered. "He'll tell we didn't go to Sunday-school.
+Let's frighten him into promising not to."</p>
+
+<p>"Hello!" cried John, in a loud voice.</p>
+
+<p>Ralph turned and was surprised to see his brothers approaching him.</p>
+
+<p>"Going home?" one of them asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, yes, Tom, ain't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not yet; and if any one inquires <a name="Page_256" id="Page_256"></a>where we are, just mention that
+we've been to Sunday-school and will be home soon."</p>
+
+<p>Ralph's eyes opened wide in astonishment. "But you didn't go to
+Sunday-school," he replied, "because your teacher came and asked me
+where you were, and I told her I didn't know; I thought you were
+coming."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it isn't any of your business whether we went or not," growled
+John. "All you've got to do is to say we were there if you're asked."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't tell a lie about it, can I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you can, if you just make up your mind to do it."</p>
+
+<p>"But I won't tell a lie about it," said Ralph, sturdily.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I suppose you'd rather get your brothers in a scrape. You know what
+will happen if we're found out."</p>
+
+<p>Ralph hesitated. He was an affectionate child and disliked to see
+anybody in trouble, especially his own brothers, but he had a very
+decided opinion that he was in the right, and therefore concluded to
+speak the truth at all hazards.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm just as sorry as I can be," he returned, sadly, "and I'll beg papa
+to forgive you and say I know you won't ever do it again, but if they
+ask me I can't tell a lie about it."</p>
+
+<p>"You won't, eh, little saint?" cried John, angrily, grabbing his
+brother's arm. "Now <a name="Page_257" id="Page_257"></a>just promise to do as we say, or we'll pitch you
+into that deep pond over there."</p>
+
+<p>Ralph was too young to realize that this was only an idle threat, and he
+was very much frightened, yet in that moment of terror the thought of
+Daniel in the lion's den flashed through his mind and gave him the
+strength that he had not dared to hope for. He saw in an instant that he
+had come to his temptation and his den of lions, and he felt that as God
+had protected Daniel in that far-away time, He would now protect him.
+Ralph had never learned to swim, and he was in fear of the big frogs and
+other creatures that inhabit ponds, but he did not flinch. With a
+boldness that surprised even himself, he looked steadily at his brother
+and replied, "You cannot frighten me into doing that wrong thing. I will
+not pray to the image of falsehood that you have set up."</p>
+
+<p>It was now his brothers' turn to be astonished. They had never thought
+of Ralph as anything but a timid, little boy who could be overcome by
+the slightest threat, and for a moment they were at a loss what to say.
+Of course, Ralph was merely repeating some of his teacher's words, but
+they were not aware of that fact, and consequently wondered at his
+remarks. Finally John managed to stammer, "Do&mdash;do you want to go in that
+pond?"</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258"></a>"No manner of hurt was found upon him because he believed in his God,"
+continued Ralph, with his mind still on his Sunday-school; "God delivers
+His faithful ones in time of trouble."</p>
+
+<p>Turning away, John was about to walk off, but Tom detained him. "Wait a
+moment, John," he said, and then the others noticed that there were
+tears in his eyes. "I want to tell my brave little brother that I honor
+him for sticking to the truth. As for me, I shall confess to father, and
+promise not to repeat the offence."</p>
+
+<p>"I am with you," John replied. "Come Ralph, we'll go together now and
+hereafter. We need never be afraid to go where a Daniel leads."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="Little_Redcap3" id="Little_Redcap3"></a>Little Redcap.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></h3>
+
+<h4>BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM.</h4>
+
+
+<p>There was once a sweet little maid, much beloved by everybody, but most
+of all by her grandmother, who never knew how to make enough of her.
+Once she sent her a little cap of red velvet, and as it was very
+becoming to her, and she never wore anything else, people called her
+Little Redcap. One day her mother said to her:</p>
+
+<p>"Come, Little Redcap, here are some cakes and a flask of milk for you to
+take to your grandmother; she is weak and ill, and they will do her
+good. Make haste and start before it grows hot, and walk properly and
+nicely, and don't run, or you might fall and break the flask of milk and
+there would be none left for grandmother. And when you go into her room,
+don't forget to say, 'Good morning' instead of staring about you."</p>
+
+<p>"I will be sure to take care," said Little Redcap to her mother, and
+gave her hand upon it. Now the grandmother lived away in the wood, half
+an hour's walk from the village, and when Little Redcap had <a name="Page_260" id="Page_260"></a>reached the
+wood, she met the wolf; but as she did not know what a bad sort of
+animal he was, she did not feel frightened.</p>
+
+<p>"Good day, Little Redcap," said he.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you kindly, Wolf," answered she.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you going so early, Little Redcap?"</p>
+
+<p>"To my grandmother's."</p>
+
+<p>"What are you carrying under your apron?"</p>
+
+<p>"Cakes and milk; we baked yesterday; and my grandmother is very weak and
+ill, so they will do her good, and strengthen her."</p>
+
+<p>"Where does your grandmother live, Little Redcap?"</p>
+
+<p>"A quarter of an hour's walk from here; her house stands beneath the
+three oak trees, and you may know it by the hazel bushes," said Little
+Redcap. The wolf thought to himself:</p>
+
+<p>"That tender young thing would be a delicious morsel, and would taste
+better than the old one; I must manage somehow to get both of them."</p>
+
+<p>Then he walked beside little Redcap for a little while, and said to her
+softly and sweetly:</p>
+
+<p>"Little Redcap, just look at the pretty flowers that are growing all
+round you, and I don't think you are listening to the song <a name="Page_261" id="Page_261"></a>of the
+birds; you are posting along just as if you were going to school, and it
+is so delightful out here in the wood."</p>
+
+<p>Little Redcap glanced round her, and when she saw the sunbeams darting
+here and there through the trees, and lovely flowers everywhere, she
+thought to herself:</p>
+
+<p>"If I were to take a fresh nosegay to my grandmother, she would be very
+pleased, and it is so early in the day that I shall reach her in plenty
+of time;" and so she ran about in the wood, looking for flowers. And as
+she picked one she saw a still prettier one a little farther off, and so
+she went farther and farther into the wood. But the wolf went straight
+to the grandmother's house and knocked at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is there?" cried the grandmother.</p>
+
+<p>"Little Redcap," he answered, "and I have brought you some cake and some
+new milk. Please open the door."</p>
+
+<p>"Lift the latch," cried the poor old grandmother, feebly; "I am too weak
+to get up."</p>
+
+<p>So the wolf lifted the latch, and the door flew open, and he fell on the
+grandmother and ate her up without saying one word. Then he drew on her
+clothes, put on her cap, lay down in her bed and drew the curtains, the
+old wretch that he was.</p>
+
+<p>Little Redcap was all this time running about among the flowers, and
+when she had gathered as many as she could hold; she <a name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></a>remembered her
+grandmother, and set off to go to her. She was surprised to find the
+door standing wide open, and when she came inside she felt very strange
+and thought to herself:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear, how uncomfortable I feel, and I was so glad this morning to
+go to my grandmother!"</p>
+
+<p>And when she said "Good morning!" there was no answer. Then she went up
+to the bed and drew back the curtains; there lay the grandmother with
+her cap pulled over her eyes, so that she looked very odd.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, grandmother, what large ears you have got!"</p>
+
+<p>"The better to hear you with."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, grandmother, what great eyes you have got!"</p>
+
+<p>"The better to see you with."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, grandmother, what large hands you have got!"</p>
+
+<p>"The better to take hold of you with, my dear."</p>
+
+<p>"But, grandmother, what a terrible large mouth you have got!"</p>
+
+<p>"The better to devour you!" And no sooner had the wolf said this than he
+made one bound from the bed and swallowed up poor Little Redcap.</p>
+
+<p>Then the wolf, having satisfied his hunger, lay down again in the bed,
+went to sleep and began to snore loudly. The <a name="Page_263" id="Page_263"></a>huntsman heard him as he
+was passing by the house and thought:</p>
+
+<p>"How the old lady snores&mdash;I would better see if there is anything the
+matter with her."</p>
+
+<p>Then he went into the room and walked up to the bed, and saw the wolf
+lying there.</p>
+
+<p>"At last I find you, you old sinner!" said he; "I have been looking for
+you for a long time." And he made up his mind that the wolf had
+swallowed the grandmother whole, and that she might yet be saved. So he
+did not fire, but took a pair of shears and began to slit up the wolf's
+body. When he made a few snips Little Redcap appeared, and after a few
+more snips she jumped out and cried, "Oh, dear, how frightened I have
+been, it is so dark inside the wolf!"</p>
+
+<p>And then out came the old grandmother, still living and breathing. But
+Little Redcap went and quickly fetched some large stones, with which she
+filled the wolf's body, so that when he waked up, and was going to rush
+away, the stones were so heavy that he sank down and fell dead.</p>
+
+<p>They were all three very much pleased. The huntsman took off the wolf's
+skin and carried it home to make a fur rug. The grandmother ate the
+cakes and drank the milk and held up her head again, and Little Redcap
+said to herself that she would never <a name="Page_264" id="Page_264"></a>again stray about in the wood
+alone, but would mind what her mother told her, nor talk to strangers.</p>
+
+<p>It must also be related how a few days afterward, when Little Redcap was
+again taking cakes to her grandmother, another wolf spoke to her, and
+wanted to tempt her to leave the path; but she was on her guard, and
+went straight on her way, and told her grandmother how that the wolf had
+met her and wished her good-day, but had looked so wicked about the eyes
+that she thought if it had not been on the high road he would have
+devoured her.</p>
+
+<p>"Come," said the grandmother, "we will shut the door, so that he may not
+get in."</p>
+
+<p>Soon after came the wolf knocking at the door, and calling out, "Open
+the door, grandmother, I am Little Redcap, bringing you cakes." But they
+remained still and did not open the door. After that the wolf slunk by
+the house, and got at last upon the roof to wait until Little Redcap
+should return home in the evening; then he meant to spring down upon her
+and devour her in the darkness. But the grandmother discovered his plot.
+Now, there stood before the house a great stone trough, and the
+grandmother said to the child: "Little Redcap, I was boiling sausages
+yesterday, so take the bucket and carry away the water they were boiled
+in and pour it into the trough."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></a>And Little Redcap did so until the great trough was quite full. When
+the smell of the sausages reached the nose of the wolf he snuffed it up
+and looked around, and stretched out his neck so far that he lost his
+balance and began to slip, and he slipped down off the roof straight in
+the great trough and was drowned. Then Little Redcap went cheerfully
+home and came to no harm.</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3><p><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></a></p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Every boy and girl should read this pretty fairy story.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><a name="New_Zealand_Children" id="New_Zealand_Children"></a>New Zealand Children.</h3>
+
+
+<p>New Zealand children are pretty, dark-eyed, smooth-cheeked little
+creatures, with clear skins of burnt umber color, and the reddest mouths
+in the world, until the girl grows up and her mother tattooes her lips
+blue, for gentility's sake.</p>
+
+<p>All day they live in the open air, unless during a violent storm. But
+they are perfectly healthy and very clean, for the first thing they do
+is to plunge into the sea water. Besides this, they take baths in warm
+springs that abound everywhere, and which keep their skins in good
+order. As to their breakfast, I am afraid that often they have some very
+unpleasant things to eat&mdash;stale shark, for instance, and sour corn
+bread&mdash;so sour that you could not swallow it, and boiled fern root, or
+the pulp of fern stems, or crawfish.</p>
+
+<p>Even if their father had happened to cut down a tall palm the day
+before, in order to take what white people call the "palm cabbage" out
+of it's very top, I'm afraid he would not share this dainty with the
+children. I am not sure he would offer even their mother a bite. It
+would be literally a bite if he did, for when people get together <a name="Page_267" id="Page_267"></a>to
+eat in New Zealand, one takes a piece of something from the basket in
+which food is served, bites out a mouthful and hands it to the next, who
+does the same, and passes it to his neighbor, and so on until it is all
+gone, and some other morsel is begun upon.</p>
+
+<p>Sixty or seventy years ago New Zealanders had never seen a pig or any
+animal larger than a cat. But about that time, one Captain King, feeling
+that a nation without pork and beans and succotash could never come to
+any good, brought them some Indian corn and some beans, and taught them
+how to plant and cultivate them, and shortly sent them some fine pigs,
+not doubting but that they would understand what to do with them without
+instruction.</p>
+
+<p>However, the New Zealanders had no idea what the pigs were sent for, and
+everybody asked everybody else about it, until one&mdash;the smart fellow who
+knows it all&mdash;said that he had heard all about them from a sailor, and
+that they were horses! Oh, certainly they were horses! The sailor had
+described them perfectly&mdash;long heads, pointed ears, broad backs, four
+legs, and a tail. They were to ride upon. Great chiefs always rode them
+where the sailors lived.</p>
+
+<p>So the New Zealand chiefs mounted the pigs, and when Captain King came
+to see how everything was going on, they had ridden them to death&mdash;all
+but a few obstinate ones, <a name="Page_268" id="Page_268"></a>who had eaten up the maize as soon as it grew
+green, and finished up the beans by way of dessert before the vines were
+halfway up the poles.</p>
+
+<p>Captain King did not despair, however. He took two natives home with
+him, taught them all about the cultivation of maize, and the rearing of
+pigs; and pork is now as popular in New Zealand as it is in Cincinnati.
+You can hardly take a walk without meeting a mother-pig and a lot of
+squealing piglets; and people pet them more than they ever did or ever
+will in their native lands. Here, you know, when baby wants something to
+play with, some one finds him a kitten, a ball of white floss, or a
+little Maltese, or a black morsel with green eyes and a red mouth; but
+in New Zealand they give him a very, very young pig, smooth as a kid
+glove, with little slits of eyes, and his curly tail twisted up into a
+little tight knot; and the brown baby hauls it about and pulls its ears
+and goes to sleep hugging it fast; and there they lie together, the
+piglet grunting comfortably, the baby snoring softly, for hours at a
+time.</p>
+
+<p>It is pleasanter to think of a piggy as a pet than as pork, and
+pleasanter still to know that the little New Zealanders have something
+really nice to eat&mdash;the finest sweet potatoes that grow anywhere.</p>
+
+<p>They say that sweet potatoes, which they <a name="Page_269" id="Page_269"></a>call <i>kumere</i>, is the food
+good spirits eat, and they sing a song about them, and so do the
+mothers, which is very pretty. The song tells how, long ago, Ezi-Ki and
+his wife, Ko Paui, sailing on the water in a boat, were wrecked, and
+would have been drowned but for good New Zealanders, who rescued them.
+And Ko Paui saw that the children had very little that was wholesome for
+them to eat, and showed her gratitude by returning, all by herself, to
+Tawai, to bring them seeds of the <i>kumere</i>. And how storms arose and she
+was in danger, but at last arrived in New Zealand safely and taught them
+how to plant and raise this excellent food. And every verse of the song
+ends with: "Praise the memory of beautiful Ko Paui, wife of Ezi-Ki,
+forever."</p>
+
+<p>Little New Zealanders run about with very little on, as a general thing,
+but they all have cloaks&mdash;they call them "mats." Their mother sits on
+the ground with a little weaving frame about two feet high before her,
+and makes them of what is called New Zealand flax. The long threads hang
+down in rows of fringes, one over the other, and shine like silk. They
+have also water-proofs, or "rain-mats," made of long polished leaves
+that shed the water. When a little New Zealand girl pulls this over her
+head she does not mind any shower. You may see a circle of these funny
+objects sitting in the <a name="Page_270" id="Page_270"></a>pelting rain, talking to each other and looking
+just like tiny haystacks.</p>
+
+<p>New Zealand children have, strange to say, many toys. They swim like
+ducks, and, as I have said, revel in the natural hot baths, where they
+will sit and talk by the hour. In fact, the life of a New Zealand child
+is full of occupation, and both girls and boys are bright,
+light-hearted, and intelligent.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="The_Breeze_from_the_Peak" id="The_Breeze_from_the_Peak"></a>The Breeze from the Peak.</h3>
+
+
+<p>A stiff Sea Breeze was having the wildest, merriest time, rocking the
+sailboats and fluttering the sails, chasing the breakers far up the
+beach, sending the fleecy cloudsails scudding across the blue ocean
+above, making old ocean roar with delight at its mad pranks, while all
+the little wavelets dimpled with laughter; the Cedar family on the
+shore, old and rheumatic as they were, laughed till their sides ached,
+and the children shouted and cheered upon the beach. How fresh and
+strong and life-giving it was. The children wondered why it was so
+jolly, but never guessed the reason; and its song was so wonderfully
+sweet, but only the waves understood the words of the wild, strange
+melody.</p>
+
+<p>"I have come," it sang, "from a land far across the water. My home was
+on the mountain top, high up among the clouds. Such a white, white world
+as it was! The mountain peak hooded in snow-ermine, and the gray-white
+clouds floating all around me; and it was so very still; my voice, the
+only sound to be heard, and that was strange and muffled. But though the
+fluffy clouds were so silent, they were gay companions and full <a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></a>of fun;
+let them find me napping once, and, puff! Down they would send the
+feathery snow, choking and blinding me, then would come a wild chase;
+once in a mad frolic my breath parted the clouds and I saw down the
+mountain side! Never shall I forget the picture I saw that day, framed
+by the silvery clouds. I, who had known nothing but that pale stillness
+and bitter cold, for the first time saw life and color, and a
+shimmering, golden light, resting on tree and river and valley farm; do
+you wonder I forgot the mountain peak, the clouds&mdash;<i>everything</i> that was
+behind, and, without even a last farewell, spread my wings and flew
+swiftly down the mountain side? Very soon I was far below that snowy
+cloud world, with a bright blue sky above me, and patches of red gravel
+and green moss and gray lichens beneath. Once I stopped to rest upon a
+great rock, moss-covered, and with curling ferns at its base; from its
+side flowed a crystal spring, so clear and cool that I caught up all I
+could carry to refresh me on my journey; but it assured me I need not
+take that trouble, for it was also on its way down the mountain side.</p>
+
+<p>"'But you have no wings,' I said. 'Are you sure of that?' answered the
+spring, and I thought she looked up in an odd way at some of my cloud
+friends, who had followed in my track; then she added: 'And, even if you
+are right, there is more than one way to <a name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></a>reach the foot of the
+mountain; I am sure you will find me there before you.'</p>
+
+<p>"I could not but doubt this, for I am swifter than any bird of the air,
+but she only laughed at me as I flew on, and once, looking back, I saw
+she had started on her journey, and was creeping slowly along a tiny
+thread of water, almost hidden in the grass. I next floated upon some
+dark green trees, that sent out a spicy odor as I touched their boughs,
+and when I moved they sang a low, tuneful melody; their song was of the
+snowy mountain peak, the clouds, the bubbling spring, the sunshine and
+the green grass; yes, and there was something else, a deep undertone
+that I did not then understand, and the melody was a loom that wove them
+all into a living harmony; some of my breezes are there still, listening
+to the Pine Trees' song; but I hurried on, the grass grew green and
+luscious along my way, and the sheep, with their baby lambs, were
+pastured upon it; rills and brooks joined hands, and went racing faster
+and faster down between the rocks; one of the brooks had grown quite
+wide and deep, and as it leaped and sparkled and sang its way into the
+valley, where it flowed into a wide, foaming stream, it looked back with
+a gay laugh, and I saw in its depths the face of the little spring I had
+left far up the mountain side.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274"></a>"It was summer in the valley, and the air was scented with roses and
+ripening fruits. It was very warm and sultry, and I fanned the
+children's faces until they laughed and clapped their hands, crying out:
+'It's the breeze from the mountain peak! How fresh and sweet and cool it
+is.'</p>
+
+<p>"I rocked the baby-birds to sleep in their leafy cradles. I entered the
+houses, making the curtains flutter, and filling the rooms with my
+mountain perfume. I longed to stay forever in that beautiful summer
+land, but now the mountain stream beckoned me on. Swiftly I flew along
+its banks, turning the windmills met on the way, and swelling out the
+sails of the boats until the sailors sang for joy. On and on we
+journeyed; my mountain friend, joined by a hundred meadow-brooks, grew
+deeper and wider as it flowed along, and its breath began to have a
+queer, salty odor. One day I heard a throbbing music far off that
+sounded like the undertone in the Pine Trees' melody; then very soon we
+reached this great body of water, and, looking across, could see no sign
+of land anywhere; but still we journeyed on. I feared at first that my
+friend was lost to me, but often she laughed from the crest of the wave,
+or glistened in a white cap, cheering my way to this sunny shore; and
+now, at last, we are here, laden with treasure for each one of you. Take
+it, and be glad!"</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275"></a>But the children did not understand the song of the Sea Breeze, nor did
+they know what made its breath so wonderfully sweet. But all day long
+they breathed in its fragrance, and gathered up the treasures brought to
+their feet by the tiny spring born up in the clouds.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a beautiful world," they cried.</p>
+
+<p>And at night, when the Sea Breeze was wakeful, and sang to the waves of
+the mountain peak, the children would lift their heads from the white
+pillows to listen, whispering softly to one another:</p>
+
+<p>"Hear the Sea Breeze and the ocean moaning on the shore. Are they lonely
+without us, I wonder?"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="The_Bremen_Town_Musicians" id="The_Bremen_Town_Musicians"></a>The Bremen Town Musicians.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">by the brothers grimm</span>.</h4>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>[When I was a child I used to love the story which is coming next.
+It is very funny and I like it still.] </p></div>
+
+
+<p>There was once an ass whose master had made him carry sacks to the mill
+for many a long year, but whose strength began at last to fail, so that
+each day as it came found him less capable of work. Then his master
+began to think of turning him out, but the ass, guessing that something
+was in the wind that boded him no good, ran away, taking the road to
+Bremen; for there he thought he might get an engagement as town
+musician. When he had gone a little way he found a hound lying by the
+side of the road panting, as if he had run a long way.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Holdfast, what are you so out of breath about!" said the ass.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear!" said the dog, "now I am old, I get weaker every day, and can
+do no good in the hunt, so, as my master was going to have me killed, I
+have made my escape; but now, how am I to gain my living?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you what," said the ass, "I am going to Bremen to become
+town musician.<a name="Page_277" id="Page_277"></a> You may as well go with me, and take up music too. I can
+play the lute, and you can beat the drum."</p>
+
+<p>The dog consented, and they walked on together. It was not long before
+they came to a cat sitting in the road, looking as dismal as three wet
+days.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, then, what is the matter with you, old friend?" said the ass.</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to know who would be cheerful when his neck is in
+danger?" answered the cat. "Now that I am old, my teeth are getting
+blunt, and I would rather sit by the oven and purr than run about after
+mice, and my mistress wants to drown me; so I took myself off; but good
+advice is scarce, and I do not know what is to become of me."</p>
+
+<p>"Go with us to Bremen," said the ass, "and become town musician. You
+understand serenading."</p>
+
+<p>The cat thought well of the idea, and went with them accordingly. After
+that the three travelers passed by a yard, and a cock was perched on the
+gate crowing with all his might.</p>
+
+<p>"Your cries are enough to pierce bone and marrow," said the ass; "what
+is the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have foretold good weather for Lady-day, so that all the shirts may be
+washed and dried; and now on Sunday morning <a name="Page_278" id="Page_278"></a>company is coming, and the
+mistress has told the cook that I must be made into soup, and this
+evening my neck is to be wrung, so that I am crowing with all my might
+while I can."</p>
+
+<p>"You had better go with us, Chanticleer," said the ass. "We are going to
+Bremen. At any rate that will be better than dying. You have a powerful
+voice, and when we are all performing together it will have a very good
+effect."</p>
+
+<p>So the cock consented, and they went on, all four together.</p>
+
+<p>But Bremen was too far off to be reached in one day, and toward evening
+they came to a wood, where they determined to pass the night. The ass
+and the dog lay down under a large tree; the cat got up among the
+branches, and the cock flew up to the top, as that was the safest place
+for him. Before he went to sleep he looked all around him to the four
+points of the compass, and perceived in the distance a little light
+shining, and he called out to his companions that there must be a house
+not far off, as he could see a light, so the ass said:</p>
+
+<p>"We had better get up and go there, for these are uncomfortable
+quarters."</p>
+
+<p>The dog began to fancy a few bones, not quite bare, would do him good.
+And they all set off in the direction of the light, and it grew larger
+and brighter until at last it <a name="Page_279" id="Page_279"></a>led them to a robber's house, all lighted
+up. The ass, being the biggest, went up to the window and looked in.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do you see?" asked the dog.</p>
+
+<p>"What do I see?" answered the ass; "here is a table set out with
+splendid eatables and drinkables, and robbers sitting at it and making
+themselves very comfortable."</p>
+
+<p>"That would just suit us," said the cock.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed, I wish we were there," said the ass. Then they consulted
+together how it should be managed so as to get the robbers out of the
+house, and at last they hit on a plan. The ass was to place his forefeet
+on the window-sill, the dog was to get on the ass' back, the cat on the
+top of the dog, and lastly the cock was to fly up and perch on the cat's
+head. When that was done, at a given signal, they all began to perform
+their music. The ass brayed, the dog barked, the cat mewed, and the cock
+crowed; then they burst through into the room, breaking all the panes of
+glass. The robbers fled at the dreadful sound; they thought it was some
+goblin, and fled to the wood in the utmost terror. Then the four
+companions sat down to the table, and made free with the remains of the
+meal, and feasted as if they had been hungry for a month. And when they
+had finished they put out the lights, and each sought out a
+sleep<a name="Page_280" id="Page_280"></a>ing-place to suit his nature and habits. The ass laid himself down
+outside on the dunghill, the dog behind the door, the cat on the hearth
+by the warm ashes, and the cock settled himself in the cockloft, and as
+they were all tired with their long journey they soon fell fast asleep.</p>
+
+<p>When midnight drew near, and the robbers from afar saw that no light was
+burning, and that everything appeared quiet, their captain said to them
+that he thought that they had run away without reason, telling one of
+them to go and reconnoitre. So one of them went and found everything
+quite quiet; he went into the kitchen to strike a light, and taking the
+glowing fiery eyes of the cat for burning coals, he held a match to them
+in order to kindle it. But the cat, not seeing the joke, flew into his
+face, spitting and scratching. Then he cried out in terror, and ran to
+get out at the back door, but the dog, who was lying there, ran at him
+and bit his leg; and as he was rushing through the yard by the dunghill
+the ass struck out and gave him a great kick with his hindfoot; and the
+cock, who had been awakened with the noise, and felt quite brisk, cried
+out, "Cock-a-doodle-doo!"</p>
+
+<p>Then the robber got back as well as he could to his captain, and said,
+"Oh dear! in that house there is a gruesome witch, and I felt her breath
+and her long nails in <a name="Page_281" id="Page_281"></a>my face; and by the door there stands a man who
+stabbed me in the leg with a knife, and in the yard there lies a black
+spectre, who beat me with his wooden club; and above, upon the roof,
+there sits the justice, who cried, 'bring that rogue here!' And so I ran
+away from the place as fast as I could."</p>
+
+<p>From that time forward the robbers never returned to that house, and the
+four Bremen town musicians found themselves so well off where they were,
+that there they stayed. And the person who last related this tale is
+still living, as you see.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="A_Very_Queer_Steed_and_Some_Strange_Adventures" id="A_Very_Queer_Steed_and_Some_Strange_Adventures"></a>A Very Queer Steed, and Some Strange Adventures.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">told after ariosto, by elizabeth armstrong</span>.</h4>
+
+
+<p>An Italian poet named Ariosto, who lived before our grandfathers were
+born, has told some very funny stories, one of which I will tell you.
+Not contented with mounting his heroes on ordinary horses, he gave one
+of them a splendid winged creature to ride; a fiery steed with eyes of
+flame, and the great pinions of an eagle. This creature's name was
+Hippogrif. Let me tell you how Prince Roger caught the Hippogrif, and
+then you will want to know something about his queer journey. I may as
+well tell you that Prince Roger belonged to the Saracens, and that he
+loved a lady of France named Bradamante, also that an old enchanter had
+captured both the prince and the lady and gotten them into his power.
+They of course were planning a way of escape, and hoped to go off
+together, and be married, and live happily ever after, but this was not
+the intention of their captor. The two prisoners, who were allowed a
+good deal of liberty, were standing together one day, when Bradamante
+said to Roger:</p>
+
+<p>"Look! there is the old man's Hippogrif still standing quietly by us. I
+have a mind <a name="Page_283" id="Page_283"></a>to catch him and take a ride on him, for he is mine by
+right of conquest since I have overcome his master." So she went toward
+the winged steed and stretched out her hand to take him by the bridle;
+but the Hippogrif darted up into the air, and flew a hundred yards or so
+away before he settled again upon the ground. Again and again she tried
+to catch him, but he always flew off before she could touch him, and
+then came down to earth a little distance away, where he waited for her
+to get near him again, just as you may see a butterfly flit from one
+cabbage-row to another, and always manage to keep a yard or two ahead of
+the boy who chases it. At last, however, he alighted close by the side
+of Roger, whereupon the Prince cried to his lady: "I will catch him and
+give him a ride to break him in for you;" and, seizing hold of the
+bridle in his left hand, he vaulted on to the back of the Hippogrif, who
+stood still without attempting to escape, as if to acknowledge that here
+he had found his proper master. But the Prince was no sooner fairly in
+the saddle than his strange steed shot up fifty feet straight into the
+air, and, taking the bit between his teeth, with a dozen flaps of his
+mighty wings carried his unwilling rider far away over the mountains and
+out of sight of the unfortunate Bradamante.</p>
+
+<p>You must know that though Roger was <a name="Page_284" id="Page_284"></a>quite unable to hold his Hippogrif,
+and soon gave up the attempt in despair, the winged monster was really
+guided by something stronger than bit or bridle, and every motion of his
+headlong flight was controlled by the will of an invisible master. The
+whole affair, in fact, was the work of the wonderful enchanter Atlas,
+who was still persuaded that great dangers awaited his beloved Prince in
+the land of France, and determined to use all his cunning to remove him
+to a place of safety. With this design he had watched the noble lovers
+from his hiding place, and guided every movement of the Hippogrif by the
+mere muttering of spells; and by the same means he still steered the
+creature's course through the air, for he was so powerful an enchanter
+that he could make his purpose take effect from one end of the earth to
+the other. In the old days of fairy lore, enchanters were very numerous,
+and always found plenty to do.</p>
+
+<p>Roger had a firm seat and a heart that knew no fear, and at any other
+time would have enjoyed nothing better than such an exciting adventure;
+but now he was terribly vexed at being separated again from his beloved
+Bradamante, and at being carried away from the land where Agramant his
+King and the Emperor Charlemagne were mustering all their forces for the
+great struggle. However, there was no help for it, for the<a name="Page_285" id="Page_285"></a> Hippogrif
+flew through the air at such a pace that he soon left the realms of
+Europe far behind him, and after a flight of a few hours he had carried
+the Prince half round the globe. Roger in fact found himself hovering
+over the Fortunate Islands, which lie in the far Eastern seas beyond the
+shores of India. Here he checked his course, and descended in wide
+circles to the earth, and at length alighted on the largest and most
+beautiful island of all the group. Green meadows and rich fields were
+here watered by clear streams; and lovely groves of palm and myrtle,
+cedar and banyan, spread their thick shade over the gentle slopes of
+hill, and offered a refuge from the heat of the mid-day sun. Birds of
+paradise flashed like jewels in the blazing light, and modest brown
+nightingales sang their sweet refrain to the conceited parrots, who sat
+admiring themselves among the branches; while under the trees hares and
+rabbits frisked merrily about, and stately stags led their graceful does
+to drink at the river banks. Upon this fertile tract, which stretched
+down to the very brink of the sea, the Hippogrif descended; and his feet
+no sooner touched the ground than Prince Roger leaped from his back, and
+made fast his bridle to the stem of a spreading myrtle-bush. Then he
+took off his helmet and cuirass, and went to bathe his face and hands in
+the cool waters of the brook; for his pulses <a name="Page_286" id="Page_286"></a>were throbbing from his
+swift ride, and he wanted nothing so much as an hour or two of repose.
+Such rapid flying through the air is very wearying.</p>
+
+<p>Could he have retained his wonderful horse, there is no knowing what
+splendid adventures might have befallen him, but at a critical moment,
+the Hippogrif vanished, and Prince Roger had to fare as best he could on
+foot. After a time he met Bradamante again, he left the Saracen religion
+and became a Christian, and he and Bradamante were united in wedlock. He
+had formerly been a heathen.</p>
+
+<p>Bradamante had a cousin named Astulf, who finally by a series of events
+became the owner of the winged steed, and on this animal he made the
+queerest trip ever heard of, a journey to the Mountains of the Moon. The
+Hippogrif soared up and up, and up, till tall palms looked like bunches
+of fern beneath him, and he penetrated belts of thick white clouds, and
+finally drew his bridle rein on summits laid out in lovely gardens,
+where flowers and fruit abounded, and the climate was soft and balmy as
+that of June. The traveler walked through a fine grove, in the centre of
+which rose a stately palace of the purest ivory, large enough to shelter
+a nation of kings within its walls, and ornamented throughout with
+carving more exquisite than that of an Indian casket.</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287"></a>While Astulf was gazing on this scene of splendor he was approached by
+a man of noble and courteous aspect, dressed in the toga of an ancient
+Roman, and bound about the brows with a laurel chaplet, who gave him
+grave and kindly salutation, saying: "Hail, noble Sir Duke, and marvel
+not that I know who you are, or that I expected you to-day in these
+gardens. For this is the Earthly Paradise, where poets have their
+dwelling after death; and I am the Mantuan <span class="smcap">Virgil</span>, who sang the
+deeds of &AElig;neas, and was the friend of the wise Emperor Augustus. But if
+you wish to know the reason of your coming hither, it is appointed for
+you to get back the lost wits of the peerless Count Roland, whose senses
+have been put away in the moon among the rest of the earth's missing
+rubbish. Now the mountains on the top of which we stand are called the
+Mountains of the Moon, because they are the only place from which an
+ascent to the moon is possible; and this very night I intend to guide
+you thither on your errand. But first, I pray you, take your dinner with
+us in our palace, for you have need of refreshment to prepare you for so
+strange a journey." I need hardly tell you that Astulf was delighted at
+being chosen to go to the moon on so worthy a mission, and thanked the
+noble poet a thousand times for his courtesy and kindness. But Virgil
+<a name="Page_288" id="Page_288"></a>answered: "It is a pleasure to be of any service to such valiant
+warriors as Count Roland and yourself;" and thereupon he took the Duke
+through the shady alleys to the ivory palace which stood in the midst of
+the garden.</p>
+
+<p>Here was Astulf conducted with much ceremony to a refectory where a
+banquet was spread. The great doors were thrown open, and the company of
+poets ranged themselves in two rows, while their King passed down
+between their ranks. He was a majestic old man with curly beard and
+hair, and his broad forehead was furrowed with lines that betokened a
+life of noble thought; but alas! he was totally blind, and leaned upon
+the shoulder of a beautiful Greek youth who guided him. Every head was
+bowed reverently as he passed, and Virgil whispered to his guest: "That
+is <span class="smcap">Homer</span>, the Father and King of poets."</p>
+
+<p>At the end of the refectory was a dais with a table at which Homer took
+his seat, while another long table stretched down the middle of the
+hall; but Astulf saw with surprise that three places were laid on the
+upper board, though the King was apparently to sit there alone. But
+Virgil explained the reason, and said: "You must understand, Sir Duke,
+that it is our custom to lay a place for every poet who will ever ascend
+to this Earthly Paradise; and as yet <a name="Page_289" id="Page_289"></a>there is none here worthy to sit
+beside our Father Homer. But after some five hundred and fifty years the
+seat at his left hand will be taken by the Florentine <span class="smcap">Dante</span>,
+who will find here the rest and happiness denied to him in his lifetime.
+The place on the right of the King, however, will remain vacant three
+hundred years more; but then it will be filled by a countryman of your
+own, and <span class="smcap">Shakespeare</span> will receive the honor due to him as the
+third great poet of the world." With these words Virgil took his seat at
+the head of the lower table, and motioned Astulf to an empty place at
+his right hand, saying: "This seat also will remain a long while vacant,
+being kept for another of your countrymen, who will come hither after
+more than a thousand years. He will be reviled and slandered in his
+lifetime; but after his death the very fools who abused him will pretend
+to admire and understand him, while here among his brethren he will be
+welcomed with joy and high honor." So Astulf sat in the seat of this
+poet to be honored in the future, and made a hearty dinner off nectar
+and ambrosia, "which are mighty fine viands," as he afterward told his
+friends at home; "but a hungry man, on the whole, would prefer good
+roast beef and a slice of plum pudding for a steady diet." Dinner being
+over, the pilgrim was led by the obliging poet to a pathway past <a name="Page_290" id="Page_290"></a>the
+silent and lonesome River of Oblivion, where most mortal names and fames
+are forever lost, only a few being rescued from its waves and set on
+golden scrolls in the temple of Immortality.</p>
+
+<p>Now when they had looked on for a while at this notable sight they left
+the River Oblivion and proceeded to the Valley of Lost Lumber. It was a
+long though narrow valley shut in between two lofty mountain ridges, and
+in it were stored away all the things which men lose or waste on earth.
+Here they found an infinite number of lovers' sighs, beyond which lay
+the useless moments lost in folly and crime, and the long wasted leisure
+of ignorant and idle men. Next came the vain desires and foolish wishes
+that can never take effect, and these were heaped together in such
+quantities that they blocked up the greater part of the valley. Here,
+too, were mountains of gold and silver which foolish politicians throw
+away in bribing voters to return them to Congress; a little farther on
+was an enormous pile of garlands with steel gins concealed among their
+flowers, which Virgil explained to be flatteries; while a heap of
+grasshoppers which had burst themselves in keeping up their shrill,
+monotonous chirp, represented, he said, the dedications and addresses
+which servile authors used to write in praise of unworthy patrons. In
+the middle of the valley lay a great pool <a name="Page_291" id="Page_291"></a>of spilt broth, and this
+signified the alms which rich men are too selfish to give away in their
+lifetime but bequeath to charities in their wills, to be paid out of
+money they can no longer use. Next Astulf came upon numbers of beautiful
+dolls from Paris, which little girls throw aside because they prefer
+their dear old bundles of rags with beads for eyes; and one of the
+biggest hillocks in all the place was formed of a pile of knives lost
+out of careless schoolboys' pockets.</p>
+
+<p>Now, when Astulf grew old and had boys and girls of his own, they used
+to clamber on his knee in the twilight and ask for a story, and oh! how
+they wished for the Hippogrif. Sometimes the old knight said that the
+Hippogrif was dead, but I have known people to shut their eyes and climb
+on his back, and cling to his mane, and go flying over the ocean and the
+hills clear through to the other end of the world. For Hippogrif is only
+a name for Fancy, and the Valley of Lost Lumber and the River of
+Oblivion and the Temple of Immortality exist for every one of us.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="Freedoms_Silent_Host" id="Freedoms_Silent_Host"></a>Freedom's Silent Host.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.</h4>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There are many silent sleepers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In our country here and there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heeding not our restless clamor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bugle's peal nor trumpet's blare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Soft they slumber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Past forever earthly care.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O'er their beds the grasses creeping<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Weave a robe of royal fold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the daisies add their homage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Flinging down a cloth of gold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Soft they slumber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Once the gallant and the bold.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oft as Spring, with dewy fingers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Brings a waft of violet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet arbutus, dainty primrose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On their lowly graves we set.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Soft they slumber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We their lives do not forget.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Childish hands with rose and lily<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Showering the furrows green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Childish songs that lift and warble<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where the sleepers lie serene<br /></span>
+<span class="i5">(Soft they slumber)<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Tell how true our hearts have been.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wave the dear old flag above them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Play the sweet old bugle call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And because they died in honor<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O'er them let the flowerets fall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Soft they slumber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Dreaming, stirring not at all.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293"></a></p>
+<span class="i0">Freedom's host of silent sleepers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where they lie is holy ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Heeding not our restless clamor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Musket's rattle, trumpet's sound.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Soft they slumber,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ever wrapped in peace profound.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="Presence_of_Mind" id="Presence_of_Mind"></a>Presence of Mind.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.</h4>
+
+
+<p>Such a forlorn little sunbonnet bobbing here and there among the bean
+poles in the garden back of Mr. Mason's house! It seemed as if the blue
+gingham ruffles and the deep cape must know something about the troubled
+little face they hid away, for they hung in a limp fashion that was
+enough to tell anybody who saw them just how badly the wearer of the
+sunbonnet was feeling. She had, as she thought, more than her share of
+toil and trouble in this busy world, and to-day she had a specially good
+reason to carry a heavy heart in her little breast.</p>
+
+<p>All Morningside was in a perfect flutter of anticipation and excitement.
+There had never been a lawn party in the little village before, and
+Effie Dean, twelve years old to-day, was to have a lawn party, to which
+every child for miles, to say nothing of a gay troop of cousins and
+friends from the city, had been invited. Everybody was going, of course.</p>
+
+<p>The Deans had taken for the season a beautiful old homestead, the owners
+of which were in Europe. They were having gala <a name="Page_295" id="Page_295"></a>times there, and they
+managed to draw all the young folks of the village in to share them.
+All, indeed, except one little girl. Cynthia Mason did not expect to go
+to many festivities, but with her whole heart she longed to see what a
+lawn party might be. The very name sounded beautiful to her, and she
+said it over and over wistfully as she went slowly down the door-yard
+between the tigerlilies and the hollyhocks, through the rough gate which
+hung so clumsily on its leathern hinges, and, with her basket by her
+side, began her daily task of picking beans.</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia Mason had no mother. Her father loved his little daughter and
+was kind to her, but he was a silent man, who was not very successful,
+and who had lost hope when his wife had died. People said he had never
+been the same man since then. His sister, Cynthia's Aunt Kate, was an
+active, stirring woman, who liked to be busy herself and to hurry other
+people. She kept the house as clean as a new pin, had the meals ready to
+the moment, and saw that everybody's clothing was washed and mended; but
+she never felt as if she had time for the kissing and petting which is
+to some of us as needful as our daily food.</p>
+
+<p>In her way she was fond of Cynthia, and would have taken good care of
+the child if she had been ill or crippled. But as her niece was
+perfectly well, and not in want of <a name="Page_296" id="Page_296"></a>salts or senna, Aunt Kate was often
+rather tried with her fondness for dreaming in the daytime, or dropping
+down to read a bit from the newspaper in the midst of the sweeping and
+dusting.</p>
+
+<p>There were, in truth, a good many worries in the little weather-beaten
+house, and Miss Mason had her own trouble in making both ends meet. She
+was taking summer boarders now to help along, and when Cynthia had asked
+her if she might go to Effie's party, the busy woman had been planning
+how to crowd another family from New York into the already well-filled
+abode, so she had curtly replied:</p>
+
+<p>"Go to a lawn party! What nonsense! Why, no child. You cannot be
+spared." And she had thought no more about it.</p>
+
+<p>"Step around quickly this morning, Cynthy," she called from the buttery
+window. "Beans take for ever and ever to cook, you know. I can't imagine
+what's got into the child," she said to herself. "She walks as if her
+feet were shod with lead."</p>
+
+<p>The blue gingham sunbonnet kept on bobbing up and down among the bean
+poles, when suddenly there was a rush and a rustle, two arms were thrown
+around Cynthia's waist, and a merry voice said:</p>
+
+<p>"You never heard me, did you, till I was close by? You're going to the
+party, of course, Cynthy?"</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297"></a>"No, Lulu," was the sad answer. "There are new boarders coming, and
+Aunt Kate cannot do without me."</p>
+
+<p>"I never heard of such a thing!" cried eleven-year old Lulu. "Not going!
+Cannot do without you! Why, Cynthy, it will be just splendid: tennis and
+croquet and games, and supper in a <i>tent</i>! ice cream and everything
+nice, and a birthday cake with a ring, and twelve candles on it. And
+there are to be musicians out of doors, and fireworks in the evening.
+Why, there are men hanging the lanterns in the trees now&mdash;to see where
+they ought to be hung, I suppose," said practical Lulu. "Not let you go?
+I'm sure she will, if I ask her." Lulu started bravely for the house,
+intent on pleading for her friend.</p>
+
+<p>But Cynthia called her back. "Don't go, Lulu, dear. Aunt Kate is very
+busy this morning. She does not think I care so much, and she won't like
+it either, if she thinks I'm spending my time talking with you, when the
+beans ought to be on the fire. A bean dinner," observed Cynthia, wisely,
+"takes so long to get ready."</p>
+
+<p>"Does it?" said Lulu, beginning to pick with all her might. She was a
+sweet little thing, and she hated to have her friend left out of the
+good time.</p>
+
+<p>As for Cynthia, the sunbonnet fell back on her neck, showing a pair of
+soft eyes <a name="Page_298" id="Page_298"></a>swimming with tears, and a sorrowful little mouth quivering
+in its determination not to cry.</p>
+
+<p>"I won't be a baby!" she said to herself, resolutely. Presently there
+came a sharp call from the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Cynthia Elizabeth! are you never coming with those beans? Make haste,
+child, do?"</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Kate said "Cynthia Elizabeth" only when her patience was almost
+gone; so, with a quick answer, "Yes, Aunt Kate, I'm coming," Cynthia
+left Lulu and ran back to the buttery, sitting down, as soon as she
+reached it, to the weary task of stringing the beans.</p>
+
+<p>Lulu, meanwhile, who was an idle little puss&mdash;her mother's
+pet&mdash;sauntered up the road and met Effie Dean's mother, who was driving
+by herself, and had stopped to gather some late wild roses.</p>
+
+<p>"If there isn't Lulu Pease!" she said. "Lulu dear, won't you get those
+flowers for me? Thank you so much. And you're coming this afternoon?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, 'm," said Lulu, with a dimple showing itself in each plump cheek;
+"but I'm so very sorry, Mrs. Dean, that my dearest friend, Cynthy Mason,
+has to stay at home. Her Aunt Kate can't spare her. Cynthy <i>never</i> can
+go anywhere nor do anything like the rest of us."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299"></a>"Cynthia Mason? That's the pretty child with the pale face and dark
+eyes who sits in the pew near the minister's, isn't it?" said Mrs. Dean.
+"Why, she must not stay at home to-day." And acting on a sudden impulse,
+the lady said good morning to Lulu, took a brisk turn along the road and
+back, and presently drew rein at Mr. Mason's door.</p>
+
+<p>She came straight into the buttery, having rapped to give notice of her
+presence, and with a compliment to Miss Mason on the excellence of her
+butter, she asked whether that lady could supply her with a few more
+pounds next week; then her eyes falling on the little figure on the
+doorstep, she said: "By-the-way, Miss Mason, your niece is to be one of
+Effie's guests to-day, is she not? Can you, as a great favor, let her
+come home with me now? I have to drive to the Centre on some errands,
+and Cynthia, who is a helpful little woman, I can see, can be of so much
+use if you will part with her for the day. It will be very neighborly of
+you to say yes. I know it's a good deal to ask, but my own girls are
+very busy, and I wish you would let me keep Cynthia until to-morrow.
+I'll take good care of her, and she shall be at home early. Lend her to
+me, please?"</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Dean, with much gentleness of manner, had the air of a person to
+whom nobody <a name="Page_300" id="Page_300"></a>ever says no, and Cynthia could hardly believe she heard
+aright when her aunt said, pleasantly:</p>
+
+<p>"Cynthia's a good girl, but she's like all children&mdash;she needs to be
+kept at her work. She can go if you really wish it, Mrs. Dean, and I'll
+send for my cousin Jenny to stay here to-day. There are new boarders
+coming," she said, to explain her need of outside assistance. Miss Mason
+prided herself on getting through her work alone; hired help she
+couldn't afford, but she would not have had any one "under-foot," as she
+expressed it, had money been plenty with her.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a wonderful woman," said Mrs. Dean, surveying the spotless
+tables and walls. "You are always so brisk, and such a perfect
+housekeeper! I wish, dear Miss Mason, you could look in on us yourself
+in the evening. It will be a pretty sight."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Mason was gratified. "Run away, Cynthia; put on your best frock,
+and don't keep Mrs. Dean waiting," she said. In spite of her
+independence, she was rather pleased that her boarders should see the
+low phaeton at her door, the brown horse with the silver-mounted
+harness, and the dainty lady, in her delicate gray gown and driving
+gloves, chatting affably while waiting for Cynthia to dress. She offered
+Mrs.<a name="Page_301" id="Page_301"></a> Dean a glass of her creamy milk, and it was gratefully accepted.</p>
+
+<p>Cynthia came back directly. Her preparations had not taken her long. Her
+"best frock" was of green delaine with yellow spots&mdash;"a perfect horror"
+the lady thought; it had been purchased at a bargain by Mr. Mason, who
+knew nothing about what was suitable for a child. Some lace was basted
+in the neck, and her one article of ornament, an old-fashioned coral
+necklace with a gold clasp, was fastened just under the lace. The stout
+country-made shoes were not becoming to the child's feet, nor was the
+rim of white stocking visible above them at all according to the present
+styles. She was pretty as a picture, but not in the least arrayed as the
+other girls would be, whether from elegant city homes or the ample farm
+houses round about.</p>
+
+<p>How her eyes sparkled and her color came and went when Mrs. Dean told
+her to step in and seat herself, then, following, took the reins, while
+Bonny Bess, the sagacious pony, who knew every tone of his mistress'
+voice, trotted merrily off!</p>
+
+<p>Having secured her little guest, Mrs. Dean thought she would give her as
+much pleasure as she could. So they took a charming drive before pony's
+head was turned to the village. The phaeton glided <a name="Page_302" id="Page_302"></a>swiftly over smooth,
+hard roads, between rich fields of corn, over a long bridge, and at last
+rolled into Main Street, where Mrs. Dean made so many purchases that the
+vehicle was soon quite crowded with packages and bundles.</p>
+
+<p>"Now for home, my little one," said the lady, turning; and away they
+flew over hill and hollow till they reached the broad, wide open gates
+of the place known to everybody as Fernbrake, and skimming gaily down
+the long flower-bordered avenue, they stopped at the door of the
+beautiful house. The verandas looked inviting with their easy chairs and
+rockers, but no one was sitting there, so Cynthia followed her hostess
+shyly up the wide stairway, into a cool, airy room with white drapery at
+the windows, an upright piano standing open, and books everywhere,
+showing the taste of its occupants. Oh, those books! Cynthia's few
+story-books had been read until she knew them by heart. Though in these
+days it was seldom she was allowed to sit with a book in her hand, a
+book-loving child always manages somehow to secure a little space for
+the coveted pleasure. And here were shelves just overflowing with
+dainty, gaily covered volumes, and low cases crowded, and books lying
+about on window-seats and lounges.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Dean observed the hungry, eager gaze, and taking off the
+wide-brimmed hat <a name="Page_303" id="Page_303"></a>with its white ribbon bow and ends, she seated the
+little girl comfortably, and put a story into her hands, telling her to
+amuse herself until Effie and Florence should come.</p>
+
+<p>A half-hour sped by, and then, answering the summons of a bell in the
+distance, the two daughters of the house appeared, and Cynthia was asked
+to go with them to luncheon.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Dean was a little worried about Cynthia's dress, and was revolving
+in her mind whether she might not make her look more like the other
+children by lending her for the occasion a white dress of Florrie's,
+when, to her regret, she observed that Florrie's eyes were resting very
+scornfully on the faded green delaine and the stout coarse shoes.</p>
+
+<p>Now if there is anything vulgar and unpardonable, it is this,
+children&mdash;that, being a hostess, you are ashamed of anything belonging
+to a guest. From the moment a guest enters your door he or she is
+sacred, and no true lady or gentlemen ever criticises, much less
+apologizes for, the dress of a visitor. Mrs. Dean was sorry to observe
+the sneer on Florrie's usually sweet face, and glancing from it to
+Cynthia's, she was struck with the contrast.</p>
+
+<p>Never had Cynthia in her life been seated at a table so beautiful. The
+tumblers of <a name="Page_304" id="Page_304"></a>ruby and amber glass, the plates with their delicate fruit
+and flower decoration, every plate a picture, the bouquet in the centre
+reflected in a beautiful little round mirror, the pretty silver tubs
+filled with broken ice, the shining knives and forks, and the dainty tea
+equipage, were so charming that she felt like a princess in an enchanted
+castle. But she expressed no surprise. She behaved quietly, made no
+mistakes, used her knife and fork like a little lady, and was as
+unconscious of herself and her looks as the carnation pink is of its
+color and shape.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Dean meditated. She did not quite like to ask this child to wear a
+borrowed dress, and she felt that Florrie needed to take a lesson in
+politeness. Drawing the latter aside, she said, "My darling, I am sorry
+you should treat my little friend rudely; you have hardly spoken to
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't help it, mamma. She isn't one of the set we go with. A little
+common thing like that! See what shoes she has on. And her hands are so
+red and coarse! They look as if she washed dishes for a living."</p>
+
+<p>"Something very like it is the case, I'm afraid, Florrie dear. I fear
+she has a very dull time at home. But the child is a little lady. I
+shall feel very much ashamed if she is more a lady than my own
+daughters. See, Effie has made friends with her."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305"></a>"And so will I," said Florrie. "Forgive me, mamma, for being so silly."
+And the three girls had a pleasant chat before the visitors came, and
+grew so confidential that Cynthia told Effie and Florrie about the one
+great shadow of her life&mdash;the mortgage which made her papa so unhappy,
+and was such a worry to poor Aunt Kate. She didn't know what it was; it
+seemed to her like some dreadful ogre always in the background ready to
+pounce on the little home. Neither Effie nor Florrie knew, but they
+agreed with her that it must be something horrid, and Effie promised to
+ask her own papa, who knew everything, all about it.</p>
+
+<p>"Depend upon it, Cynthia," said Effie, "if papa can do anything to help
+you, he will. There's nobody like papa in the whole world."</p>
+
+<p>By and by the company began to arrive, and the wide grounds were gay
+with children in dainty summer costumes and bright silken sashes.
+Musicians were stationed in an arbor, and their instruments sent forth
+tripping waltzes and polkas, and the children danced, looking like
+fairies as they floated over the velvet grass. When the beautiful old
+Virginia reel was announced, even Cynthia was led out, Mr. Dean himself,
+a grand gentleman with stately manners and a long brown beard, showing
+her the steps. Cynthia felt as if she had been <a name="Page_306" id="Page_306"></a>dancing with the
+President. Cinderella at the ball was not less delighted, and this
+little Cinderella, too, had a misgiving now and then about to-morrow,
+when she must go home to the housework and the boarders and the
+gathering of beans for dinner. Yet that should not spoil the present
+pleasure. Cynthia had never studied philosophy, but she knew enough not
+to fret foolishly about a trouble in the future when something agreeable
+was going on now.</p>
+
+<p>In her mother's little well-worn Bible&mdash;one of her few
+treasures&mdash;Cynthia had seen this verse heavily underscored: "Take
+therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought
+for the things of itself." She did not know what it meant. She would
+know some day.</p>
+
+<p>I cannot tell you about the supper, so delicious with its flavor of all
+that was sweet and fine, and the open-air appetite the children brought
+to it.</p>
+
+<p>After supper came the fireworks. They were simply bewildering. Lulu, the
+staunch little friend who had gone to Cynthia's in the morning, speedily
+found her out, and was in a whirl of joy that she was there.</p>
+
+<p>"How did you get away?" she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mrs. Dean came after me herself," returned Cynthia, "And Aunt Kate
+couldn't say no to <i>her</i>."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307"></a>Lulu gave Cynthia's hand a squeeze of sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>"What made you bring your mamma's shawl?" asked Cynthia, as she noticed
+that Lulu was encumbered with a plaid shawl of the heaviest woolen,
+which she kept on her arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Malaria," returned the child. "Mamma's <i>so</i> afraid of it and she said
+if I felt the teentiest bit of a chill I must wrap myself up. Horrid old
+thing! I hate to lug it around with me. S'pose we sit on it, Cynthy."</p>
+
+<p>They arranged it on the settee, and complacently seated themselves to
+enjoy the rockets, which soared in red and violet and silvery stars to
+the sky, then fell suddenly down and went out like lamps in a puff of
+wind.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there was a stir, a shriek, a chorus of screams following it,
+from the group just around the fireworks. A pinwheel had exploded,
+sending a shower of sparks in every direction.</p>
+
+<p>All in a second, Florrie Dean flew past the girls, her white fluffy
+dress on fire. And quick as the fire itself, Cynthia tore after her.
+Well was it that the shabby green delaine was a woolen dress, that the
+stout shoes did not encumber the nimble feet, that the child's faculties
+were so alert. In a second she had seized the great shawl, <a name="Page_308" id="Page_308"></a>and almost
+before any of the grown people had realized the child's peril, had
+smothered the flames by winding the thick folds over and over, round and
+round, the fleecy dress and the frightened child.</p>
+
+<p>Florrie was only slightly burned, but Cynthia's little hands were so
+blistered that they would neither wash dishes nor pick beans for many a
+day.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Dean bathed them in sweet oil and bandaged them from the air, then
+put Cynthia to bed on a couch in a chamber opening out of her own room.
+From time to time in the night she went to see if the dear child was
+sleeping quietly, and Mr. Dean, standing and looking at her, said, "We
+owe this little one a great debt; her presence of mind saved Florrie's
+life."</p>
+
+<p>Early the next morning Bonny Bess trotted up to Mr. Mason's door without
+Cynthia. Aunt Kate was feeling impatient for her return. She missed the
+willing little helper more than she had supposed possible. She had
+arranged half a dozen tasks for the day, in everyone of which she
+expected to employ Cynthia, and she felt quite disappointed when she saw
+that Mr. Dean was alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Another picnic for to-day, I suppose," she said to herself. "Cynthia
+may just as well learn first as last that we cannot afford to let her go
+to such junketings often."</p>
+
+<p><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309"></a>But Mr. Dean broke in upon her thoughts by saying, blandly: "Good
+morning, madam. Will you kindly tell me where to find Mr. Mason?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's in the south meadow," she answered, civilly, pointing in that
+direction. "I see you've not brought Cynthia home, Mr. Dean. I need her
+badly. Mrs. Dean promised to send her home early."</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Dean will call on you herself in the course of the day; and it is
+about Cynthia that I wish to consult her father, my good lady," said Mr.
+Dean, lifting his hat, as if to a queen, as he drove toward the meadow.</p>
+
+<p>"Well! well! well!" said Aunt Kate, feeling rather resentful, but on the
+whole rather pleased with the "good lady" and the courteously lifted
+hat. A charming manner is a wonderful magician in the way of scattering
+sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>The boarders, observing the little scene from the side porch, hoped that
+Cynthia's outing was to be prolonged. One and all liked the handy,
+obliging little maiden who had so much womanly work to do and so scanty
+a time for childish play.</p>
+
+<p>When, however, at noon, Mr. Mason came home, holding his head up proudly
+and looking five years younger, and told how brave Cynthia had been;
+when neighbor after neighbor, as the news flew over the place, stopped
+to congratulate the<a name="Page_310" id="Page_310"></a> Masons on the possession of such a little
+heroine&mdash;Miss Mason was at first puzzled, then triumphant.</p>
+
+<p>"You see what there is in bringing up," she averred. "I've never spoiled
+Cynthy: I've trained her to be thoughtful and quick, and this is the
+result."</p>
+
+<p>When Mrs. Dean first proposed that Cynthia should spend the rest of the
+summer at Fernbrake, sharing the lessons and play with her own girls,
+Aunt Kate opposed the idea. She did not know how one pair of hands and
+feet was to do all that was to be done in that house. Was she to send
+the boarders away, or how did her brother think she could get along.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Mason said he could afford to hire help for his sister if she wished
+it, and in any event he meant that Cynthia after this should go to
+school and study; for "thanks to her and to God"&mdash;he spoke
+reverently&mdash;"the mortgage was paid." Mr. Dean had taken that burden away
+because of Florrie's life which Cynthia had saved.</p>
+
+<p>Under the new conditions Cynthia grew very lovely in face as well as in
+disposition. It came to pass that she spent fully half her time with the
+Deans; had all the books to read that she wanted, and saw her father and
+Aunt Kate so happy that she forgot the old days of worry and care, when
+she had sometimes felt lonely, and thought that they <a name="Page_311" id="Page_311"></a>were cross. Half
+the crossness in the world comes from sorrow and anxiety, and so
+children should bear with tired grown people patiently.</p>
+
+<p>As for Lulu, she never ceased to be glad that her mamma's terror of
+malaria had obliged her to carry a great shawl to Effie's lawn party.
+Privately, too, she was glad that the shawl was so scorched that she
+never was asked to wear it anywhere again.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312"></a></p>
+<h3><a name="The_Boy_Who_Went_from_the_Sheepfold_to_the_Throne" id="The_Boy_Who_Went_from_the_Sheepfold_to_the_Throne"></a>The Boy Who Went from the Sheepfold to the Throne.</h3>
+
+<h4>BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.</h4>
+
+
+<p>A great many years ago in the morning of the world there was a boy who
+began by taking care of flocks, and ended by ruling a nation. He was the
+youngest of a large family and his older brothers did not respect him
+very much nor think much of his opinion, though they were no doubt fond
+of the ruddy, round-faced little fellow, and proud of his great courage
+and of his remarkable skill in music. For the boy did not know what fear
+was, and once when he was alone in the high hill pasture taking care of
+the ewes and the lambs, there came prowling along a lion of the desert,
+with his soft padding steps, intent on carrying off a sheep for Madam
+Lioness and her cubs. The boy did not run, not he; but took the lamb out
+of the lion's mouth, seized the creature by the beard and slew him, and
+thus defended the huddling, frightened flock from that peril. He served
+the next enemy a big, blundering old bear, in the same way. When there
+were no wild beasts creeping up to the rim of the fire he made near his
+little tent, the lad would amuse himself <a name="Page_313" id="Page_313"></a>by playing on the flute, or
+the jewsharp he carried; and at home, when the father and sons were
+gathered around in silence, he used to play upon his larger harp so
+sweetly that all bad thoughts fled, and everybody was glad and at peace
+with the world.</p>
+
+<p>One day an aged man with snowy hair and a look of great dignity and
+presence came to the boy's father's house. He proved to be a great
+prophet named Samuel, and he was received with much honor. In the course
+of his visit he asked to see the entire family, and one by one the tall
+and beautiful sons were presented to him until he had seen seven young
+men.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this all your household? Have you not another son?" he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Jesse the Bethlehemite, who by the way was a grandson of
+that beautiful maiden, Ruth, who came out of Moab with Naomi, "yes, I
+have still a son, but he is only a youth, out in the fields; you would
+not wish to see <i>him</i>." But this was a mistake.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray, send for him," answered the prophet.</p>
+
+<p>Then David, for this was his name, came in, modest yet eager, with his
+pleasant face and his dark kindling eyes. And the prophet said, "This is
+the Lord's anointed," and then in a ceremony which the simple family
+seem not to have quite understood, <a name="Page_314" id="Page_314"></a>he set the boy apart by prayer and
+blessing, poured the fragrant oil of consecration on his head, and said
+in effect that in days to come he would be the King of Israel.</p>
+
+<p>David went back to his fields and his sheep and for a long while nothing
+happened.</p>
+
+<p>But there arose against Israel in due time a nation of warlike people,
+called "The Philistines." Nearly all the strong young men of the country
+went out to fight against these invaders, and among them went the sons
+of old Jesse. Nobody stayed at home except the old men, the women and
+the younger boys and little ones. The whole country was turned into a
+moving camp, and there arrived a time before long when Israel and the
+Philistines each on a rolling hill, with a valley between them, set
+their battle in array.</p>
+
+<p>I once supposed that battles were fought on open plains, with soldiers
+confronting one another in plain sight, as we set out toy regiments of
+wooden warriors to fight for children's amusement. But since then, in my
+later years, I have seen the old battlefields of our Civil War and I
+know better. Soldiers fight behind trees and barns and fences, and in
+the shelter of hedges and ditches, and a timbered mountain side makes a
+fine place for a battle ground.</p>
+
+<p>Now I will quote a passage or two from a <a name="Page_315" id="Page_315"></a>certain old book, which tells
+this part of the story in much finer style than I can. The old book is a
+familiar one, and is full of splendid stories for all the year round. I
+wish the young people who read this holiday book would make a point
+hereafter of looking every day in that treasure-house, the Bible.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>And there went out a champion out of the camp of the Philistines,
+named Goliath, of Gath, whose height was six cubits and a span.</p>
+
+<p>And he had a helmet of brass upon his head, and he was armed with a
+coat of mail; and the weight of the coat was five thousand shekels
+of brass.</p>
+
+<p>And he had greaves of brass upon his legs, and a target of brass
+between his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>And the staff of his spear was like a weaver's beam; and his
+spear's head weighed six hundred shekels of iron: and one bearing a
+shield went before him.</p>
+
+<p>And he stood and cried unto the armies of Israel, and said unto
+them, Why are ye come out to set your battle in array? am not I a
+Philistine, and ye servants to Saul? choose you a man for you, and
+let him come down to me.</p>
+
+<p>If he be able to fight with me, and to kill me, then will we be
+your servants: but if I prevail against him, and kill him, then
+shall ye be our servants, and serve us.</p>
+
+<p>And the Philistine said, I defy the armies of Israel this day; give
+me a man, that we may fight together.</p>
+
+<p>When Saul and all Israel heard those words of the Philistine, they
+were dismayed, and greatly afraid.</p>
+
+<p>Now David was the son of that Ephrathite of Bethlehem-judah, whose
+name was Jesse; and he had eight sons: and the man went among men
+for an old man in the days of Saul.</p>
+
+<p>And the three eldest sons of Jesse went and <a name="Page_316" id="Page_316"></a>followed Saul to the
+battle: and the names of his three sons that went to the battle
+were Eliab the first-born, and next unto him Abinadab, and the
+third Shammah.</p>
+
+<p>And David was the youngest: and the three eldest followed Saul.</p>
+
+<p>But David went and returned from Saul to feed his father's sheep at
+Beth-lehem.</p>
+
+<p>And the Philistine drew near morning and evening, and presented
+himself forty days.</p>
+
+<p>And Jesse said unto David his son, Take now for thy brethren an
+ephah of this parched corn, and these ten loaves, and run to the
+camp to thy brethren;</p>
+
+<p>And carry these ten cheeses unto the captain of their thousand, and
+look how thy brethren fare, and take their pledge.</p>
+
+<p>Now Saul, and they, and all the men of Israel, were in the valley
+of Elah, fighting with the Philistines.</p>
+
+<p>And David rose up early in the morning, and left the sheep with a
+keeper, and took, and went, as Jesse had commanded him; and he came
+to the trench, as the host was going forth to the fight, and
+shouted for the battle.</p>
+
+<p>For Israel and the Philistines had put the battle in array, army
+against army.</p>
+
+<p>And David left his carriage in the hand of the keeper of the
+carriage, and ran into the army, and came and saluted his brethren.</p>
+
+<p>And as he talked with them, behold, there came up the champion, the
+Philistine of Gath, Goliath by name, out of the armies of the
+Philistines, and spake according to the same words: and David heard
+them.</p>
+
+<p>And all the men of Israel, when they saw the man, fled from him,
+and were sore afraid.</p>
+
+<p>And the men of Israel said, Have ye seen this man that is come up?
+surely to defy Israel is he come up: and it shall be, that the man
+who killeth <a name="Page_317" id="Page_317"></a>him, the king will enrich him with great riches, and
+will give him his daughter, and make his father's house free in
+Israel.</p>
+
+<p>And David spake to the men that stood by him saying, What shall be
+done to the man that killeth this Philistine, and taketh away the
+reproach from Israel? for who is this uncircumcised Philistine,
+that he should defy the armies of the living God? </p></div>
+
+<p>By "carriage" is meant luggage, the things David had brought for his
+brothers, not a conveyance as in our modern sense.</p>
+
+<p>The brothers were angry when they found David putting himself forward,
+in a way which they thought absurd, but their taunts did not deter him
+from presenting himself to King Saul, who was pleased with the gallant
+boy, and proposed to arm him with his own armor, a coat of mail, greaves
+of brass and the like. But "no," said David, "I would feel clumsy and
+awkward in your accoutrements, I will meet the giant with my shepherd's
+sling and stone, in the name of the Lord God of Israel whom he has
+defied."</p>
+
+<p>The giant came blustering out with a tread that shook the ground. When
+he saw his little antagonist he was vexed, for this seemed to him no
+foeman worthy of his spear. But when the conflict was really on, lo! the
+unerring eye and hand of David sent his pebble from the brook straight
+into the giant's head, and the victory was with Israel.</p>
+
+<p>And after that, David went to the palace <a name="Page_318" id="Page_318"></a>and played sweetly on the harp
+to charm and soothe the madness of King Saul, on whom there came by
+spells a fierce and terrible malady. He formed a close friendship with
+Jonathan, the king's son, a friendship which has passed into a proverb,
+so tender it was and so true. After a while he married the king's
+daughter. He had a great many wonderful adventures and strange
+experiences, and in time he became king himself, as the Lord by his
+prophet Samuel had foretold and chosen him to be.</p>
+
+<p>But better than all, David's deeds of valor and the great fame he had
+among the nations, which abides to this day, was, in my mind, the fact
+that he wrote many of the psalms which we use in our public worship,
+this, the twenty-third, is one of the very sweetest of them all:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.</p>
+
+<p>He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside
+the still waters.</p>
+
+<p>He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness
+for his name's sake.</p>
+
+<p>Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I
+will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they
+comfort me.</p>
+
+<p>Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
+thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.</p>
+
+<p>Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
+and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. </p></div>
+
+<p>You must not think that David's life was <a name="Page_319" id="Page_319"></a>ever an easy one. He always
+had hard battles to fight. Once, for quite a long period, he was an
+outlaw, much like Robin Hood of a later day, and with a band of brave
+young men he lived in the woods and the mountains, defending the
+property of his friends from other outlaws, and sometimes perhaps making
+forays against his foes, sweeping off their cattle and burning their
+tents and houses. Those were wild and exciting days, when the battle was
+for the strongest to win, and when many things were done of which in our
+modern times we cannot wholly approve. The thing about David which
+pleases me most is that he had a rare quality called magnanimity; he did
+not take a mean advantage of an enemy, and when, as occasionally it must
+be owned, he did commit a great sin, his repentance was deep and
+sincere. He lived in so much communion with God, that God spoke of him
+always as his servant, and he has been called, to distinguish him from
+other heroes in the Bible gallery, "The man after God's own heart."
+Whatever duties or trials came to David, they were met in a spirit of
+simple trust in the Lord, and with a child-like dependence on God's
+will.</p>
+
+<p>David had many children, some very good and some very bad. His son
+Absalom was renowned for his beauty and for his wickedness, while
+Solomon became famous, <a name="Page_320" id="Page_320"></a>and so continues to this day as the wisest among
+men, a man rich, far-sighted and exalted, who reigned long in Jerusalem
+after the death of David, his father, who passed away in a good old age.
+Wonderful lives are these to read and to think of, full of meaning for
+every one of us. And many, many years after both these men and their
+successors were gone there came to our earth, One born of a Virgin, who
+traced His mortal lineage back to David of Bethlehem, and who brought
+goodwill and peace to men. Even Christ our Blessed Lord.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Holiday Stories for Young People, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOLIDAY STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE ***
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Holiday Stories for Young People, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Holiday Stories for Young People
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Margaret E. Sangster
+
+Release Date: September 4, 2005 [EBook #16648]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOLIDAY STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Janet Blenkinship
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Holiday Stories
+
+FOR
+
+YOUNG PEOPLE.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Compiled and Edited by
+
+MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+PUBLISHED BY
+THE CHRISTIAN HERALD
+LOUIS KLOPSCH, Proprietor,
+BIBLE HOUSE, NEW YORK.
+
+
+Copyright, 1896, BY LOUIS KLOPSCH.
+
+
+
+
+   DEDICATION.
+
+
+  To John and Jane, to Fred and Frank,
+    To Theodore and Mary,
+  To Willie and to Reginald,
+    To Louis, Sue and Gary;
+  To sturdy boys and merry girls,
+    And all the dear young people
+  Who live in towns, or live on farms,
+    Or dwell near spire or steeple;
+  To boys who work, and boys who play,
+    Eager, alert and ready,
+  To girls who meet each happy day
+    With faces sweet and steady;
+  To dearest comrades, one and all,
+    To Harry, Florrie, Kate,
+  To children small, and children tall,
+    This book I dedicate.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+Boys and girls, I am proud to call a host of you my personal friends,
+and I dearly love you all. It has been a great pleasure to me to arrange
+this gift book for you, and I hope you will like the stories and
+ballads, and spend many happy hours over them. One story, "The Middle
+Daughter," was originally published in Harper's "Round Table," and is
+inserted here by consent of Messrs. Harper and Brothers. Two of the
+ballads, "Horatius," and "The Pied Piper," belong to literature, and you
+cannot afford not to know them, and some of the fairy stories are like
+bits of golden coin, worth treasuring up and reading often. Miss Mary
+Joanna Porter deserves the thanks of the boys for the aid she has given
+in the making of this volume, and the bright stories she has contributed
+to its pages.
+
+A merry time to you, boys and girls, and a heart full of love from your
+steadfast friend,
+
+                                                           M.E.S.
+
+
+
+                           CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                                               PAGE
+   1. The Clover Leaf Club of Bloomdale. By M.E. Sangster        9
+
+   2. The Lighthouse Lamp. By M.E. Sangster.                    71
+
+   3. The Family Mail-bag. By Mary Joanna Porter                73
+
+   4. A Day's Fishing. By Mary Joanna Porter                    79
+
+   5. Why Charlie Didn't Go. By Mary Joanna Porter              85
+
+   6. Uncle Giles' Paint Brush. By Mary Joanna Porter           91
+
+   7. The Pied Piper of Hamelin. By Robert Browning             95
+
+   8. A Girl Graduate. By Cynthia Barnard                      104
+
+   9. A Christmas Frolic. By M.E. Sangster                     116
+
+  10. Archie's Vacation. By Mary Joanna Porter                 119
+
+  11. A Birthday Story. By M.E. Sangster                       124
+
+  12. A Coquette. By Amy Pierce                                130
+
+  13. Horatius. Ballad. By T.B. Macaulay                       131
+
+  14. A Bit of Brightness. By Mary Joanna Porter               151
+
+  15. How Sammy Earned the Prize. By M.E. Sangster             157
+
+  16. The Glorious Fourth                                      162
+
+  17. The Middle Daughter. By M.E. Sangster                    163
+
+  18. The Golden Bird. By the Brothers Grimm.                  226
+
+  19. Harry Pemberton's Text. By Elizabeth Armstrong           239
+
+  20. Our Cats                                                 246
+
+  21. Outovplace                                               252
+
+  22. The Boy Who Dared to be a Daniel. By S. Jennie Smith     254
+
+  23. Little Red Cap. By the Brothers Grimm.                   259
+
+  24. New Zealand Children                                     266
+
+  25. The Breeze from the Peak                                 271
+
+  26. The Bremen Town Musicians. By the Brothers Grimm         276
+
+  27. A Very Queer Steed and Some Strange Adventures.
+        Told after Ariosto, by Elizabeth Armstrong             282
+
+  28. Freedom's Silent Host. By M.E. Sangster                  292
+
+  29. Presence of Mind. By M.E. Sangster                       294
+
+  30. The Boy Who Went from the Sheepfold to the Throne.
+        By M.E. Sangster                                       312
+
+
+
+
+Holiday Stories for Young People
+
+
+
+
+The Clover Leaf Club of Bloomdale
+
+BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+THE HEROINE PRESENTS HERSELF.
+
+
+My name is Milly Van Doren, and I am an only child. I won't begin by
+telling you how tall I am, how much I weigh, and the color of my eyes
+and hair, for you would not know very much more about my looks after
+such an inventory than you do without it, and mother says that in her
+opinion it is pleasantest to form one's own idea of a girl in a story
+book. Mother says, too, that a good rule in stories is to leave out
+introductions, and so I will follow her advice and plunge into the
+middle of my first morning. It was early summer and very lovely, and I
+was feeling half-sad and half-glad, with the gladness surpassing the
+sadness, because I had never before been half so proud and important.
+
+Father and mother, after talking and planning and hesitating over it a
+long while, were actually going on a journey just by themselves and
+without me; and I, being now considered old enough and steady enough,
+was to stay at home, keep house, and take care of dear grandmamma. With
+Aunt Hetty at the helm, the good old servant, whose black face had
+beamed over my cradle fifteen years ago, and whose strong arms had come
+between mother and every roughness during her twenty years of
+housekeeping, it really looked as if I might be trusted, and as if
+mother need not give me so many anxious directions. Did mother think me
+a baby? I wondered resentfully. Father always reads my face like an open
+page.
+
+"Thee may leave something to Milly's discretion, dear," he said, in his
+slow, stately way.
+
+"Thee forgets her inexperience, love," said my gentle mother.
+
+Father and mother are always courtly and tender with one another, never
+hasty of speech, never impatient. They have been lovers, and then they
+are gentlefolk. Father waited, and mother kept on telling me about
+grandmamma and the cat, the birds and the best china, the fire on the
+hearth in cool evenings, and the last year's canned fruit, which might
+as well be used up while she was away, particularly the cherries and
+plums.
+
+"May the girls come over often?" I asked.
+
+"Whenever you like," said mother. "Invite whom you please, of course."
+
+Here father held up his watch warningly. It was time to go, if they
+were to catch the train. Arm in arm they walked down the long avenue to
+the gate, after bidding me good-bye. Grandmamma watched them, waving her
+handkerchief from the window of her room over the porch, and at the last
+moment I rushed after them for a final kiss and hug.
+
+"Be good, dear child, and let who will be clever," said father, with a
+twinkle in his eye.
+
+"Don't forget to count the silver every morning," said mother.
+
+And so my term of office began. Bloomdale never wore a brighter face
+than during that long vacation--a vacation which extended from June till
+October. We girls had studied very diligently all winter. In spring
+there had been scarlet fever in the village, and our little
+housekeepers, for one cause or another, had seldom held meetings; and
+some of the mothers and older sisters declared that it was just what
+they had expected, our ardor had cooled, and nothing was coming of our
+club after all that had been said when we organized.
+
+As president of the Bloomdale Clover Leaf Club I determined that the
+club should now make up for lost time, and having _carte-blanche_ from
+mother, as I supposed, I thought I would set about work at once.
+Cooking was our most important work, and there's no fun in cooking
+unless eating is to follow; so the club should be social, and give
+luncheons, teas and picnics, at which we might have perfectly lovely
+times. I saw no reason for delay, and with my usual impulsiveness,
+consulted nobody about my first step.
+
+And thus I made mistake number one. Cooking and housekeeping always look
+perfectly easy on paper. When you come to taking hold of them in real
+earnest with your own hands you find them very different and much
+harder.
+
+Soon after I heard the train whistle, and knew that father and mother
+were fairly gone, I harnessed old Fan to the phaeton, and set out to
+visit every one of the girls with an invitation to tea the very next
+evening. I did put my head into grandmamma's chamber to tell her what I
+thought of doing, but the dear old lady was asleep in her easy-chair,
+her knitting lying in her lap, and I knew she did not wish to be
+disturbed. I closed the door softly and flew down stairs.
+
+Just as I was ready to start, Aunt Hetty came to the kitchen door,
+calling me, persuasively: "Miss Milly, honey, what yo' done mean to hab
+for dinner?"
+
+"Oh, anything you please, aunty," I called back, gathering up the reins,
+chirping to Fan, and taking the road to the Curtis girls' house.
+Certainly I had no time to spend consulting with Aunt Hetty.
+
+Mother knew me better than father did. I found out later that this
+wasn't at all a proper way to keep house, giving no orders, and leaving
+things to the discretion, of the cook. But I hadn't really begun yet,
+and I was wild to get the girls together.
+
+Bloomdale is a sort of scattered up-hill and down-dale place, with one
+long and broad street running through the centre of the village, and
+houses standing far apart from each other, and well back from the
+pavement in the middle of the green lawns, swept into shadow by grand
+old trees. The Bloomdale people are proud of the town, and keep the
+gardens beautiful with flowers and free from weeds. Life in Bloomdale
+would be perfectly delightful, all the grown-up people say, if it were
+not for the everlasting trouble about servants, who are forever changing
+their places and going away, and complaining that the town is dull, and
+their church too distant, and life inconvenient; and so every one envies
+my mother, who has kept Hetty all these years, and never had any trouble
+at all.
+
+At least I fancied that to be so, till I was a housekeeper myself, and
+found out that Aunt Hetty had spells of temper and must be humored, and
+was not perfect, any more than other people vastly above her in station
+and beyond her in advantages.
+
+I stopped for Linda Curtis, and she jumped into the phaeton and went
+with me. We asked Jeanie Cartwright, Veva Fay, Lois Partridge, Amy
+Pierce and Marjorie Downing to tea the next day, and every girl of them
+promised to come bright and early.
+
+When I reached home I ran to grandmamma to ask her if I had done right,
+and to get her advice about what I would better have for my bill of
+fare.
+
+"Thee is too precipitate, dear child," said grandmamma. "Why not have
+waited two or three days before having a company tea? I fear much that
+Hetty will be contrary, and not help as she ought. And I have one of my
+headaches coming."
+
+"Oh, grandmamma!" I exclaimed. "Have you taken your pills?" I was
+aghast.
+
+"Thee needn't worry, dear," replied grandmamma, quite unruffled. "I have
+taken them, and if the headache does not vanish before dark, I'll sleep
+in the south chamber to-night, and be out of the way of the stir
+to-morrow. I wish, though, Aunt Hetty were not in a cross fit."
+
+"It is shameful," I said. "Aunt Hetty has been here so long that she
+does not know her place. I shall not be disturbed by her moods."
+
+So, holding my head high, I put on my most dignified manner and went to
+the kitchen. Aunt Hetty, in a blue gingham gown, with a gay kerchief
+tied on her head, was slowly and pensively rocking herself back and
+forth in her low chair. She took no notice of me whatever.
+
+"Aunt Hetty!"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Aunt Hetty!" This time I spoke louder.
+
+Still she rocked back and forth, apparently as deaf as a post. I grew
+desperate, and, going up to her, put my hand on her shoulder, saying:
+
+"_Aunt Hetty_, aren't we to have our dinner? The fire seems to be out."
+
+She shook off my hand and slowly rose, looking glum and preoccupied.
+
+"Didn't hear no orders for dinner, Miss Alice."
+
+"Now, Aunt Hetty," I remonstrated, "why will you be so horrid? You know
+I am the housekeeper when mother is away, and you're going to spoil
+everything, and make her wish she hadn't gone. _How_ can I manage if you
+won't help? Come, be good," I pleaded.
+
+But nothing moved her from her stony indifference, and I went back to
+grandmamma in despair. I was about to pour all my woes in her ear, but a
+glance at her pale face restrained me.
+
+She was going to have a regular Van Doren headache.
+
+"We never have headaches like other people."
+
+How many times I have heard my aunts and uncles say this in just these
+words! They do not think me half a Van Doren because, owing to my
+mother's way of bringing me up, I have escaped the family infliction. In
+fact, I am half a Neilson, and the Neilsons are a healthy everyday set,
+who do not have aches and pains, and are seldom troubled with nerves.
+Plebeian, perhaps, but very comfortable.
+
+I rushed back to the den of Aunt Hetty, as I now styled the kitchen. She
+was pacing back and forth like a lioness in a cage at a show, singing an
+old plantation melody. That was a sign that her fit of temper was worse
+than ever. Little I cared.
+
+"Hetty Van Doren," I said, "stop sulking and singing! There isn't time
+for either. Poor grandmamma has a fearful headache, and you and I will
+have to take care of her. Put some water on to boil, and then come up to
+her room and help me. And don't sing 'Go down, Moses,' another minute."
+
+I had used two arguments which were powerful with Aunt Hetty. One was
+calling her Hetty Van Doren. She liked to be considered as belonging to
+the family, and no compliment could have pleased her more. She often
+said she belonged to the Kentucky _noblesse_, and held herself far above
+common trash.
+
+The other was my saying you and I. She was vexed that mother had left
+me--a baby, in her opinion--to look after the house, and rather resented
+my assuming to be the mistress. By my happy form of speech I pleased the
+droll old woman, who was much like a child herself. Then, too, she was
+as well aware as I was that grandmamma's pain would grow worse and worse
+every hour until it was relieved.
+
+It was surprising how quickly aunty moved when she chose. She had a fire
+made and the kettle on to boil in five minutes; and, almost before I
+knew it, she had set cold chicken, and nice bread and butter and a great
+goblet of creamy milk on the table for me.
+
+"There, honey," she said, "don't mind dis hateful ole woman. Eat your
+luncheon, while I go up and help ole miss to bed."
+
+A hot-water bag for her feet, warm bandages laid on her head, some
+soothing medicine which she always took, and Hetty and I at last left
+grandmamma more comfortable than we found her. It was funny, as I
+thought of it afterward. In one of her worst paroxysms the dear lady
+gasped, a word at a time:
+
+"Aunt--Hetty,--Miss--Milly--has--asked--friends--to--tea--to-morrow.
+Put--some--ham--and--tongue--on--to--boil--directly!"
+
+Aunt Hetty looked as if she thought grandmamma must be raving. I nodded
+that it was all right, and up went the two black hands in expostulation
+and amazement.
+
+But a while later a savory smell of boiling ham came appetizingly wafted
+up the stairs. I drew a free breath. I knew the girls would at least
+have something to eat, and my hospitality would not be shamed.
+
+So toward evening I made grandmamma a cup of tea. It is not every one
+who knows how to make tea. The water must boil and bubble up. It isn't
+fully boiling when the steam begins to rise from the spout, but if you
+will wait five minutes after that it will be just right for use. Pour a
+very little into the teapot, rinse it, and pour the water out, and then
+put in your tea. No rule is better than the old one of a teaspoonful for
+every cup, and an extra one for the pot. Let this stand five minutes
+where it will not boil, and it will be done. Good tea must be steeped
+not boiled. Mother's way is to make hers on the table. I have been
+drilled over and over in tea making, and am skillful.
+
+I made some dainty slices of toast in this way: I cut off the crust and
+put it aside for a pudding, and as the oven was hot, I placed the bread
+in a pan, and let it lean against the edge in a slanting position. When
+it was a pale golden brown I took it out, and carried it to grandmamma.
+The object of toasting bread is to get the moisture out of it. This is
+more evenly done in the oven than over the fire. Toast should not be
+burned on one side and raw on the other; it should be crisp and delicate
+all through.
+
+My tea and toast were delicious, and tasted all the better for being
+arranged in the prettiest china we had and on our daintiest salver.
+
+The next morning grandmamma was better, and I had my hands full.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+COMPANY TO TEA, AND SOME RECEIPTS.
+
+
+You remember that grandmamma in the very middle of her headache gave
+orders about boiling the ham and the tongue.
+
+We made a rule after that, and Veva, who was secretary, wrote it in the
+club's book: "Always begin getting ready for company the day before."
+
+I had not noticed it then, but it is mother's way, and it saves a great
+deal of confusion. If everything is left for the day on which the
+company is expected, the girl who is hostess will be much too tired to
+enjoy her friends. She ought to have nothing on her mind which can worry
+her or keep her from entering into their pleasure. A hurried, worried
+hostess makes her guests feel somehow in a false position.
+
+Our house was, fortunately, in excellent order, so I had nothing to do
+except, in the morning, to set the table prettily, to dust the parlors,
+to put fresh flowers in the vases, and give a dainty finishing touch
+here and there to the rooms. There were plenty of pleasant things to do.
+I meant to have tea over early, and then some of the club's brothers
+would be sure to come in, and we could play tennis on our ground, and
+perhaps have a game of croquet. Then, when it was too dark for that sort
+of amusement, we could gather on the veranda or in the library, and have
+games there--Dumb Crambo and Proverbs, until the time came for the girls
+to go home.
+
+First, however, the eating part of the entertainment had to be thought
+of.
+
+Aunt Hetty was in a wonderful good humor, and helped with all her might,
+so that my preparations went on very successfully. Grandmamma felt so
+much better that I asked her advice, and this was the bill of fare
+which she proposed:
+
+  Ham Sandwiches.
+  Cold Sliced Tongue.
+  Quick Biscuits.
+  Apple-Sauce.
+  Strawberries and Cream.
+  Tapioca Blanc-Mange.
+  Cup-Cake.
+  Cookies.
+  Cocoa.
+
+The ham, having been boiled till tender the afternoon before, was
+chopped very fine, a tiny dash of mustard added to it, and then it was
+spread smoothly between two pieces of the thinnest possible
+bread-and-butter. Around each of the sandwiches, when finished, I tied a
+very narrow blue ribbon. The effect was pretty.
+
+The tongue was sliced evenly, and arranged on a plate with tender leaves
+of lettuce around its edge.
+
+The biscuits I made myself. Mother taught me how. First I took a quart
+of flour, and dropped into it two teaspoonfuls of our favorite
+baking-powder. This I sifted twice, so that the powder and flour were
+thoroughly blended. Mother says that cakes and biscuits and all kinds of
+pastry are nicer and lighter if the flour is sifted twice, or even three
+times. I added now a tablespoonful of lard and a half teaspoonful of
+salt, and mixed the biscuit with milk. The rule is to handle as little
+as possible, and have the dough very soft. Roll into a mass an inch
+thick, and cut the little cakes apart with a tin biscuit-cutter. They
+must be baked in a very hot oven.
+
+No little housekeeper need expect to have perfect biscuits the first
+time she makes them. It is very much like playing the piano. One needs
+practice. But after she has followed this receipt a half dozen times,
+she will know exactly how much milk she will require for her dough, and
+she will have no difficulty in handling the soft mass. A dust of flour
+over the hands will prevent it from sticking to them.
+
+Mother always insists that a good cook should get all her materials
+together before she begins her work.
+
+The way is to think in the first place of every ingredient and utensil
+needed, then to set the sugar, flour, spice, salt, lard, butter, milk,
+eggs, cream, molasses, flavoring, sieves, spoons, egg-beaters, cups,
+strainers, rolling-pins, and pans, in a convenient spot, so that you do
+not have to stop at some important step in the process, while you go to
+hunt for a necessary thing which has disappeared or been forgotten.
+
+Mother has often told me of a funny time she had when she was quite a
+young housekeeper, afflicted with a borrowing neighbor. This lady seldom
+had anything of her own at hand when it was wanted, so she depended upon
+the obliging disposition of her friends.
+
+One day my mother put on her large housekeeping apron and stepped
+across the yard to her outdoor kitchen. The kitchens in Kentucky were
+never a part of the house, but always at a little distance from it, in a
+separate building.
+
+"Aunt Phyllis," said my mother to the cook, who was browning coffee
+grains in a skillet over the fire, "I thought I told you that I was
+coming here to make pound cake and cream pies this morning. Why is
+nothing ready?"
+
+"La, me, Miss Emmeline!" replied Aunt Phyllis. "Miss 'Tilda Jenkins done
+carried off every pie pan and rolling-pin and pastry-board, and borrowed
+all de eggs and cream fo' herself. Her bakin' isn't mo'n begun."
+
+This was a high-handed proceeding, but nothing could be done in the
+case. It was Mrs. Jenkins' habit, and mother had always been so amiable
+about it that the servants, who were easygoing, never troubled
+themselves to ask the mistress, but lent the inconvenient borrower
+whatever she desired.
+
+Sometimes just as we were going to church, I was too little at the time
+to remember, mother said that a small black boy with very white teeth
+and a very woolly head, would pop up at her chamber door, exclaiming,
+
+"Howdy, Miss Emmeline. Miss 'Tilda done sent me to borrow yo'
+Prayer-book. She goin' to church to-day herself."
+
+Or, of a summer evening, her maid would appear with a modest request for
+Miss Emmeline's lace shawl and red satin fan; Miss 'Tilda wanted to make
+a call and had nothing to wear.
+
+All this, I think, made mother perfectly _set_ against our ever
+borrowing so much as a slatepencil or a pin. We were always to use our
+own things or go without. I never had a sister, but cousins often spent
+months at the house, and were in and out of my room in the freest way,
+forever bringing me their gloves to mend or their ties to clean, as
+cousins will.
+
+"Never borrow," said my mother. "Buy, or give away, or do without, but
+be beholden to nobody for a loan."
+
+Another rule for little housekeepers is to wash their hands and faces
+and have their hair in the nicest order before they begin to cook. The
+nails should be cleaned and the toilet attended to as carefully as if
+the girl were going to a party, before she begins any work in the
+kitchen.
+
+I suppose you think my bill of fare for a company tea very plain, but I
+hadn't time for anything elaborate. Besides, if what you have is very
+good, and set on the table prettily, most people will be satisfied even
+if the fare is simple.
+
+"Apple-sauce," said Amy one day, "is a dish I never touch. We used to
+have it so often at school that I grew tired at the sight of it."
+
+But Amy did eat apple-sauce at our house. Aunt Hetty taught me how to
+make it, and I think it very good. We always cook it in an earthenware
+crock over a very quick fire. This is our receipt: Pare and slice the
+apples, eight large ones are sufficient for a generous dish, and put
+them on with a very little water. As soon as they are soft and pulpy
+stir in enough granulated sugar to make them as sweet as your father and
+brothers like them. Take them off and strain them through a fine sieve
+into a glass dish. Cook the apple-sauce about two hours before it is
+wanted on the table. Put beside it a bowl of whipped cream, and when you
+help to the sauce add a heaping spoonful of the cream to every dish.
+
+People spoil apple-sauce by making it carelessly, so that it is lumpy
+and coarse, or has seeds or bits of the core sticking in it, and mother
+says that both apple-pies and apple-sauce should be used the day they
+are made. They lose their _bouquet_, the fine delicate flavor is all
+gone if you keep them long before using. A great divine used to say that
+"the natural life of an apple pie is just twelve hours."
+
+_Tapioca Blanc-Mange._--This is the receipt: One pint of fresh milk,
+three-quarters of a cupful of sugar, half a pound of tapioca soaked in
+cold water four hours, a small teaspoonful of vanilla, a pinch of salt.
+Heat the milk and stir in the tapioca previously soaked. Mix well and
+add the sugar. Boil it slowly fifteen minutes, then take it off and beat
+until nearly cold. Pour into moulds, and stand upon the ice.
+
+This is very nice served with a teaspoonful of currant or raspberry
+jelly to each helping, and if cream is added it makes a beautiful
+dessert. This ought to be made the day before it is needed. I made mine
+before noon and it was quite ready, but you see it tired me to have it
+on my mind, and it _might_ have been a failure.
+
+_Cup-Cake._--Three teacups of sifted sugar and one cup and a half of
+butter beaten to a cream, three eggs well beaten (white and yolks
+separately), three teacupfuls of sifted flour. Flavor with essence of
+lemon or rose water. A half teaspoonful is enough. Dissolve a
+teaspoonful of cream of tartar and a half teaspoonful of baking soda in
+a very little milk. When they foam, stir them quickly into the cake.
+Beat well until the mixture is perfectly smooth, and has tiny bubbles
+here and there on the surface. Bake in a very quick oven.
+
+_Cookies._--These were in the house. We always keep a good supply. One
+cup of butter, one of sugar, one of sour milk, half a nutmeg grated,
+one teaspoonful of saleratus dissolved in a little boiling water, flour
+enough to roll out the cookies. Cut into small round cakes and bake.
+Keep these in a close tin. They will last a long time unless the house
+is supplied with hungry school-boys.
+
+_Cocoa._--Two ounces of cocoa and one quart of boiling water. Boil
+together for a half hour on the back of the stove, then add a quart of
+milk and two tablespoonfuls of sugar. Boil for ten minutes and serve.
+
+Everything on the table was enjoyed, and we girls had a very merry time.
+After tea and before the brothers came, we arranged a plan for learning
+to make bread. I forgot to speak of the strawberries, but good
+strawberries and rich cream need no directions. A pretty way of serving
+them for breakfast, or for people who prefer them without cream, is
+simply to arrange the beautiful fruit unhulled on a cut glass dish, and
+dip each berry by its dainty stem into a little sparkling mound of
+powdered sugar.
+
+As for our games, our talk, our royally good time, girls will understand
+this without my describing it. As Veva said, you can't put the soul of a
+good time down on the club's record book, and I find I can't put it down
+here in black and white. But when we said good-night, each girl felt
+perfectly satisfied with the day, and the brothers pleaded for many
+more such evenings.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+A FAIR WHITE LOAF.
+
+
+"It's very well," said Miss Clem Downing, Marjorie's sister, "for you
+little housekeepers to make cakes and creams; anybody can do that; but
+you'll never be housekeepers in earnest, little or big, my dears, till
+you can make good eatable bread."
+
+"Bread," said Mr. Pierce to Amy, "is the crowning test of housewifery. A
+lady is a loaf-giver, don't you know?"
+
+"When Jeanie shall present me with a perfect loaf of bread, I'll present
+her with a five-dollar gold piece," said Jeanie's father.
+
+"I don't want Veva meddling in the kitchen," observed Mrs. Fay, with
+emphasis. "The maids are vexatious enough, and the cook cross enough as
+it is. If ever Veva learns breadmaking, it must be outside of this
+house."
+
+"Don't bother me, daughter," said Mrs. Partridge, looking up from the
+cup she was painting. "It will be time for you to learn breadmaking when
+the bakers shut their shops."
+
+As for the writer of this story, her mother's way had been to teach her
+breadmaking when she was just tall enough to have a tiny moulding-board
+on a chair, but Milly did not feel qualified to take hold of a regular
+cooking class. It was the same with Linda Curtis. Grandmamma suggested
+our having a teacher, and paying her for her trouble.
+
+"Miss Muffet?" said Veva.
+
+"Miss Muffet," we all exclaimed.
+
+"And then," said Jeanie, "our money will enable her to buy the winter
+cloak she is so much in need of, and she will not feel as if she were
+accepting charity, because she will earn the money if she teaches us."
+
+"Indeed, she will," exclaimed Veva. "I know beforehand that she will
+have one fearfully stupid pupil, and that is Veva Fay."
+
+Breakfast was no sooner over next morning, and grandmamma dressed and
+settled in comfort, than away we flew to our friend. "We," means Linda
+and myself. She is my nearest neighbor, and we often act for the club.
+
+Miss Muffet lived by herself in a bit of a house, her only companions
+being a very deaf sister and a very noisy parrot.
+
+"Passel o' girls! Passel o' girls!" screamed the parrot, as we lifted
+the latch and walked up the little bricked pathway, bordered with
+lady-slippers and prince's feather, to the porch, which was half hidden
+by clematis.
+
+Miss Muffet was known to every man, woman and child in Bloomdale. She
+was sent for on every extra occasion, and at weddings, christenings and
+funerals, when there was more work than usual to be done, the little
+brisk woman, so quiet and so capable, was always on hand. She could do a
+little of everything, from seating Tommy's trousers to setting patches
+in Ellen's sleeves; from making lambrequins and table scarfs to
+laundrying lace curtains and upholstering furniture. As for cooking,
+preserving and canning, she was celebrated for miles around and beyond
+our township.
+
+"Would Miss Muffet undertake to show a few girls how to make bread and
+rolls and biscuit and sally-lunn, and have patience with them till they
+were perfect little housekeepers, so far as bread was concerned."
+
+It was some little time before we could make Miss Muffet understand our
+plan, and persuade her to let us pay for our lessons; but when she did
+understand, she entered into the plan with enthusiasm.
+
+"La me! What a clever notion to be sure! Sister Jane, poor dear, would
+approve of it highly, if she weren't so deaf. Begin to-day? Well, well!
+You don't want the grass to grow under your feet, do you? All right!
+I'll be at your house, Milly, at six o'clock this evening to give the
+first lesson. Have the girls there, if you can. It's as easy to teach a
+dozen as one."
+
+"Milly," said Linda, "the club ought to have a uniform and badges. I
+don't think a club is complete that hasn't a badge."
+
+"We all have white aprons," I said.
+
+"Yes; ordinary aprons, but not great kitchen aprons to cover us up from
+head to foot."
+
+"Well, if the club adopts the plan it will not be hard to make such
+aprons. We must certainly have caps, and those should be thought of at
+once."
+
+Grandmamma was always my resort when I was at my wits' end, and so I
+went to her with a question: "Had she anything which would do for our
+caps?"
+
+"There must be something in my lower left-hand wardrobe drawer," said
+grandmamma, considering. "Thee may bring me a green bag, which thee will
+see in the far corner, and then we will talk about those caps in
+earnest."
+
+That wonderful green bag proved a sort of fairy find. There were
+remnants of mull, Swiss, jaconet and other fabrics--white, plain and
+barred. Grandmamma cut us a pattern. At four the seven girls were
+assembled in her room. Jeanie on a hassock at her feet, the remainder
+grouped as they chose.
+
+How our fingers flew! It was just a quarter to six when every cap was
+finished, and each girl had decided upon her special color. We hadn't
+the ribbon to make our bows, and were obliged to wait till somebody
+should go to the city to procure it; but each girl knew her favorite
+color, and that was a comfort. Linda Curtis chose blue, and I would wear
+rose-tints (my parents did not insist on my wearing Quaker gray, and I
+dressed like "the world's people"), Veva chose old gold, and each of the
+others had a preference.
+
+"You will look like a field of daisies and clover, dearies," said
+grandmamma.
+
+"There!" cried Jeanie. "Why not have a four-leaved clover as our badge?
+There isn't anything prettier."
+
+The four-leaved clover carried the day, though one or two did speak for
+the daisy, the maiden-hair fern and the pussy willow. All this was
+before the subject of the national flower had been agitated.
+
+"Where are my pupils?" Miss Muffet appeared promptly at the hour, and
+wore a most business-like air as she began her instructions. "Compressed
+yeast has found its way to Bloomdale, my dears," she said, "so that I
+shall not have to begin by telling you how to make yeast. That useful
+lesson may wait till another day. Before we do anything, I will give you
+some rules for good family bread, and you may write them down, if you
+please.
+
+"1. Always sift your flour thoroughly."
+
+Seven pencils wrote that rule in seven notebooks.
+
+"2. Mix the dough as soft as it can be handled. You must never have it
+too stiff.
+
+"3. Set it to rise in a moderately warm place.
+
+"4. You cannot knead bread too much. The more it is kneaded the firmer,
+sweeter and lighter it will be."
+
+When we had written this down Miss Muffet remarked:
+
+"Mrs. Deacon Ead's bread always takes the prize at the county fair. It
+looks like pound-cake. I don't want you girls to make flabby, porous
+bread, full of air-holes. I want you to learn how to knead it till it is
+just like an India-rubber cushion."
+
+"If the dough is soft won't it stick to our fingers?" said Marjorie,
+with a dainty little shiver.
+
+"Powder your hands very lightly with flour. That will keep the dough
+from sticking," said Miss Muffet, "and you will gain a knack after a
+while.
+
+"5. The oven must be steadily hot, but not too quick, for bread. Hold
+your hand in it while you count thirty, and it will be right for putting
+in your bread.
+
+"6. Grease your pans.
+
+"7. When taking bread from the oven loosen the loaves from the pans,
+stand them upright, and let them lean against something to keep them in
+that position. Cover them lightly with a cloth.
+
+"8. Do not put them away until they are cold."
+
+We all gathered about the table, but were disappointed that there was
+nothing for us to do except look on.
+
+She took two quarts of flour and sifted it thoroughly into a large
+wooden bowl. In one pint of tepid water she dissolved a
+half-tablespoonful of salt and half a yeast cake. Pouring this into a
+hollow in the middle of the flour she gradually drew the flour into it
+from all sides, working it with swift, light touches until it was a
+compact mass. She pounced and pulled and beat this till it was as smooth
+and round as a ball, dusted a little flour over it, covered it with a
+thick cloth and set it aside.
+
+"That is all that can be done to-night, girls," she said. "Be here every
+one of you at six in the morning, if Milly can be up so early. The bread
+will be ready then for another kneading. You must not overlook the fact,
+girls, that bread is not accommodating. It has to be attended to when
+the proper time comes, whether it is convenient for the maker or not. If
+neglected, it will be too light, or else heavy. Bread which is too light
+has a sour taste, and is just as unpalatable as that which is heavy,
+_i.e._, not raised enough, I mean."
+
+In the morning our bread had risen to the top of the bowl, and had
+cracks running in a criss-cross manner over its surface. Miss Muffet was
+the first one to appear on the scene. She gave us a lesson in kneading.
+Such patting and pounding, throwing over, tossing back and forth, as she
+gave that poor dough. But the dough must have enjoyed it, for it seemed
+to grow lighter every minute.
+
+After a full twenty minutes of this process the bread was set near the
+fire for a second rising. A half-hour passed. Miss Muffet took it in
+hand again, and again she pounced and patted, beat and pounded the
+helpless mass, this time dividing it into three small loaves, which she
+set near the fire for the final rising.
+
+"Bread is nicer made in little loaves," she told us. "More convenient
+for use on the table, easier to bake, and less likely to become dry."
+
+And now let me give you a receipt for Ingleside waffles. Mother
+considers these very good, and so do we girls who have tried them.
+
+"Make one pint of Indian meal into mush the usual way, which is by
+stirring the meal into boiling water and letting it boil until it is
+thick. While hot put in a small lump of butter and a dessertspoonful of
+salt. Set the mush aside to cool. Beat separately the whites and yolks
+of four eggs until very light; add the eggs to the mush, and cream in by
+degrees one quart of wheat flour; add half a pint of buttermilk or sour
+cream, in which you have dissolved a half-teaspoonful of bicarbonate of
+soda; add sweet milk enough to make a thin batter.
+
+"Have the waffle-irons hot. They should be heated in advance, not to
+keep the batter waiting. Butter them thoroughly and half fill them with
+the batter. Bake over a quick fire."
+
+I never eat waffles without thinking of a pleasant home where two girls
+and a boy who read this paper have good times every summer. They often
+go out on the bay for an afternoon sail, and come home in the rosy
+sunset in time for waffles. Waffles, with sugar and cream, are a very
+nice addition to a supper table.
+
+Another receipt of Miss Muffet's:
+
+_Delicious Corn Muffins._--One pint of corn meal sifted, one egg, one
+pint of sweet milk, a teaspoonful of butter, and half a teaspoonful of
+salt. Pour this mixture into muffin-rings and bake in a very quick oven.
+
+This receipt is one that mother sometimes uses on a cold winter evening
+when she has nothing else hot for supper. They are great favorites in
+our household.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+HOW TO SWEEP.
+
+
+In the first chapter of this story I spoke of the trouble housekeepers
+in Bloomdale had to get and keep good servants.
+
+We Clover Leaf girls made up our minds that we would learn to be
+independent. We resolved to know how to do every sort of housework, so
+that we might assist our mothers whenever they needed us, and be ready
+for any emergency as it came along.
+
+Aunt Hetty's daughter-in-law in Boston sent the poor old soul a letter
+which made her rather uneasy, and grandmamma thought that I might better
+let her go and pay Sally a visit while mother was away than to wait till
+her return.
+
+"The fall dressmaking and cleaning will be coming on then," said
+grandmother, "and thee will be busy with school again. So if Hetty takes
+her vacation now, she will be here to help the dear mother then."
+
+I agreed to this, for the chance of having the kitchen to myself was
+very tempting. The club was charmed; they said they would just live at
+our house and help me with all their might.
+
+"Then you won't have Hetty's moods to worry you," said Veva,
+consolingly.
+
+We had a good time. Nevertheless it was a happy day for me when Aunt
+Hetty, bag and baggage, came home a week sooner than she was expected.
+Nobody was looking for her; but the good old soul, having seen her
+relations, felt restless, and wanted to get home.
+
+"Somefin done tole me, honey," she said, "that Aunt Hetty am wanted
+hyar, and sure enuf it's so. Yo' pa an' ma off on dey trabbles, and
+nobody but one pore lamb lef' to take car' ob de house an' de ole madam.
+I wouldn't hab gone only for dat no-account Sal anyhow."
+
+I felt like a bird set free from a cage when Aunt Hetty appeared, and
+she came in the very nick of time, too, for that same day up rolled the
+stage, and out popped my great-aunt Jessamine (grandmamma's sister) from
+Philadelphia. The two old ladies had so much to tell one another that
+they had no need of me. So I went to the Downings', where the club was
+to hold a meeting, armed with brushes and brooms, taking a practical
+lesson in sweeping and dusting.
+
+The Downings were without a maid, and we all turned in to help them.
+Alice, Nell, and Clem, the older sisters, accepted our offer joyfully,
+though I think their mother had doubts of the wisdom of setting so many
+of us loose in her house at once. But Linda Curtis and Jeanie Cartwright
+found that they were not needed and went home; Veva had a music lesson
+and was excused; Linda's mamma had taken her off on a jaunt for the day;
+and Amy could not be spared from home. Only Lois and I were left to help
+Marjorie, and, on the principle that many hands make light work, we
+distributed ourselves about the house under the direction of the elder
+Downing sisters.
+
+Now, girls all, let me give you a hint which may save you lots of time
+and trouble. If sweeping and dusting are thoroughly done, they do not
+need to be done so very often. A room once put in perfect order,
+especially in a country village, where the houses stand like little
+islands in a sea of green grass, ought to stay clean a long time.
+
+It is very different in a city, where the dust flies in clouds an hour
+after a shower, and where the carts and wagons are constantly stirring
+it up. Give me the sweet, clean country.
+
+Mother's way is to carefully dust and wipe first with a damp and then
+with a dry cloth all the little articles of bric-a-brac, vases, small
+pictures, and curios, which we prize because they are pretty, after
+which she sets them in a closet or drawer quite out of the way. Then,
+with a soft cloth fastened over the broom, she has the walls wiped down,
+and with a hair brush which comes for the purpose she removes every
+speck of dust and cobweb from the cornices and corners. A knitted cover
+of soft lampwick over a broom is excellent for wiping a dusty or a
+papered wall.
+
+Next, all curtains which cannot be conveniently taken down are shaken
+well and pinned up out of the way. Shades are rolled to the top. Every
+chair and table is dusted, and carried out of the room which is about to
+be swept. If there are books, they are dusted and removed, or if they
+are arranged on open shelves, they are first dusted and then carefully
+covered.
+
+Mother's way is to keep a number of covers of old calico, for the
+purpose of saving large pieces of furniture, shelves and such things,
+which cannot be removed from their places on sweeping days.
+
+It is easier, she says, to protect these articles than to remove the
+dust when it has once lodged in carvings and mouldings.
+
+We girls made a frolic of our dusting, but we did it beautifully too. I
+suppose you have all noticed what a difference it makes in work whether
+you go at it cheerfully or go at it as a task that you hate. If you keep
+thinking how hard it is, and wishing you had somebody else to do it for
+you, and fretting and fuming, and pitying yourself, you are sure to have
+a horrid time. But if you take hold of a thing in earnest and call it
+fun, you don't get half so tired.
+
+In sweeping take long light strokes, and do not use too heavy a broom.
+
+"Milly," said Lois, "do you honestly think sweeping is harder exercise
+than playing tennis or golf?"
+
+I hesitated. "I really don't know. One never thinks of hard or easy in
+any games out of doors; the air is so invigorating, they have a great
+advantage over house work in that way."
+
+"Well, for my part," said Marjorie, "I like doing work that tells. There
+is so much satisfaction in seeing the figures in the carpet come out
+brightly under my broom. Alice, what did you do to make your
+reception-room so perfectly splendiferous? Girls, look here! You'd think
+this carpet had just come out of the warehouse."
+
+"Mother often tells Aunt Hetty," said I, "to dip the end of the broom in
+a pail of water in which she has poured a little ammonia--a teaspoonful
+to a gallon. The ammonia takes off the dust, and refreshes the colors
+wonderfully. We couldn't keep house without it," I finished, rather
+proudly.
+
+"Did you bring some from home?" asked Marjorie, looking hurt.
+
+"Why, of course not! I asked your mother, and she gave me the bottle,
+and told me to take what I wanted."
+
+"A little coarse salt or some damp tea-leaves strewed over a carpet
+before sweeping adds ease to the cleansing process," said Mrs. Downing,
+appearing on the scene and praising us for our thoroughness. "The reason
+is that both the salt and the tea-leaves being moist keep down the light
+floating dust, which gives more trouble than the heavier dirt. But now
+you will all be better for a short rest; so come into my snuggery, and
+have a gossip and a lunch, and then you may attack the enemy again."
+
+"Mrs. Downing, you are a darling," exclaimed Lois, as we saw a platter
+of delicate sandwiches, and another of crisp ginger cookies, with a
+great pitcher of milk. "We didn't know that we were hungry; but now that
+I think about it, I, for one, am certain that I could not have lived
+much longer without something to supply the waste of my failing cellular
+tissue."
+
+"I think," replied Mrs. Downing, "that we would often feel much better
+for stopping in our day's work to take a little rest. I often pause in
+the middle of my morning's work and lie down for a half-hour, or I send
+to the kitchen and have a glass of hot milk brought me, with a crust or
+a cracker. You girls would not wish to lie down, but you would often
+find that you felt much fresher if you just stopped and rested, or put
+on your jackets and hats and ran away for a breath of out-door air. You
+would come back to your work like new beings."
+
+"Just as we did in school after recess," said Marjorie.
+
+"Precisely. Change of employment is the best tonic."
+
+Our luncheon over, and our rooms swept, rugs shaken, stairs and passages
+thoroughly brushed and wiped, we polished the windows with cloths dipped
+in ammonia water and wrung out, and followed them by a dry rubbing with
+soft linen cloths. Then it was time to restore the furniture to its
+place, and bring out the ornaments again from their seclusion.
+
+Now we saw what an advantage we had gained in having prepared these
+before we began the campaign. In a very little while the work was done
+and the house settled, and so spotless and speckless we felt sure it
+would keep clean for weeks.
+
+Mother's way is to use a patent sweeper daily in rooms which are
+occupied for sewing and other work, and she says that she does not find
+it necessary to give her rooms more than a light sweeping oftener than
+once in six weeks. Of course it would be different if we had a large
+family.
+
+Paint should be wiped, door-knobs polished, and a touch of the duster
+given to everything on these sweeping days.
+
+The Clover Leaves voted that feather-dusters, as a rule, were a
+delusion. One often sees a girl, who looks very complacent as she
+flirts a feather-duster over a parlor, displacing the dust so that it
+may settle somewhere else. All dusted articles should be wiped off, and
+the dust itself gotten rid of, by taking it out of the house, and
+leaving it no chance to get back on that day at least.
+
+When I reached home in time for our one o'clock dinner, I found
+Great-aunt Jessamine and grandmamma both waiting for me, and the former,
+who was a jolly little old lady, was quite delighted over the Bloomdale
+girls and their housekeeping.
+
+"All is," she said, "will those Downings do as well when there are no
+other girls to make them think the work is play?"
+
+"Oh!" answered grandmamma, "I never trouble my head about what folks
+will do in the future. I have enough to do looking after what they do in
+the present. Alice here gets along very well all by herself a great part
+of the time. By-the-way, child, did Aunt Hetty give thee mother's
+letter?"
+
+I rushed off to get my treasure. It would soon be the blessed day when I
+might expect a letter telling me when my father and mother would be at
+home again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+A LITTLE OF EVERYTHING.
+
+
+Just as I began to be a wee little bit tired of housework, and to feel
+that I would like nothing so much as a day with my birds, my fancy-work,
+and a charming story-book, what should happen but that grandmamma's
+headache and Aunt Hetty's "misery in her bones" should both come at
+once.
+
+Tap, tap, tap on the floor above my head in the early dawn came
+grandmamma's ebony stick.
+
+Veva Fay and Marjorie Downing were both spending the night with me. Veva
+had slept on the wide, old-fashioned lounge in the corner, and Marjorie
+in the broad couch with me, and we had all talked till it was very late,
+as girls always do when they sleep in one room, unless, of course, they
+are sisters, or at school, and used to it.
+
+I had a beautiful room. It ran half across the front of the house, and
+had four great windows, a big fire-place, filled in summer with branches
+of cedar, or bunches of ferns, growing in a low box, and filling the
+great space with cool green shade, and in winter the delight of the
+girls, because of the famous hickory fires which blazed there, always
+ready to light at a touch.
+
+In one corner stood my mahogany desk, above it a lovely picture of the
+Madonna and Child. Easy-chairs were standing around, and there were
+hassocks and ottomans in corners and beside the windows. My favorite
+engraving--a picture representing two children straying near a
+precipice, fearing no danger, and just ready to fall, when behind them,
+sweeping softly down, comes their guardian angel--hung over the mantel.
+
+How much pleasure I took in that room, in the book shelves always full,
+in the pretty rugs and the cool matting and the dainty drapery, all
+girls can imagine. It was my own Snuggery, and I kept it in the
+loveliest good order, as mother liked me to.
+
+Tap, tap, tap.
+
+"Goodness!" cried Veva, only half awake.
+
+"What is that? Mice?" said Marjorie, timidly.
+
+"Burglars!" exclaimed Veva.
+
+"Hush, girls!" I said, shaking off my drowsiness. "It's poor grandmamma,
+and she has one of her fearfulest headaches. It's two weeks since she
+had the last, so one may be expected about now. The tap means, 'Come to
+me, quickly.'"
+
+I ran to the door, and said, "Coming, grandmamma!" slipped my feet into
+my soft knitted shoes, and hurried my gray flannel wrapper on, then
+hastened to her bedside. I found that grandmamma was not so very ill,
+only felt unable to get up to breakfast with us, and wanted some gruel
+made as soon as possible.
+
+"I've been waiting to hear some stir in the house," she said, "but
+nobody seemed to be awake. Isn't it later than usual, girlie?"
+
+I tiptoed over to grandmamma's mantel, and looked at her little French
+clock. It _was_ late! Eight, and past, and Hetty had not called us. What
+could be the matter?
+
+Down I flew to find out what ailed Aunt Hetty. She was usually an early
+riser.
+
+Before I reached her room, which was on the same floor with the kitchen,
+I heard groans issuing from it, and Hetty's voice saying: "Dear me! Oh,
+dear me!" in the most despairing, agonizing tones. Hetty always makes
+the most of a "misery in her bones."
+
+"What is it, aunty?" I asked, peering into the room, which she _would_
+keep as dark as a pocket.
+
+"De misery in my bones, child! De ole king chills! Sometimes I'm up!
+Sometimes I'm down!"
+
+The bed shook under the poor thing, and I ran out to ask Patrick to go
+for the doctor, while I made the fire, and called the girls to help
+prepare breakfast.
+
+First in order after lighting the fire, which being of wood blazed up
+directly that the match was applied to the kindlings, came the making of
+the corn-meal gruel.
+
+A tablespoonful of corn meal wet with six tablespoonfuls of milk, added
+one by one, gradually, so that the meal is quite free from lumps. One
+pint of boiling water, and a little salt. You must stir the smooth
+mixture of the meal and milk into the boiling water. It will cool it a
+little, and you must stir it until it comes to a boil, then stand it
+back, and let it simmer fifteen minutes.
+
+The doctor was caught by Patrick just leaving his house to go to a
+patient ten miles off. He prescribed for Aunt Hetty, looked in upon
+grandmamma, and told me to keep up my courage, I was a capital little
+nurse, and he would rather have me to take care of him than anybody else
+he knew, if he were ill, which he never was.
+
+He drove off in his old buggy, leaving three little maids watching him
+with admiring eyes. We all loved Doctor Chester. "Now, girls," I said,
+"we must get our breakfast. We cannot live on air."
+
+Marjorie brought the eggs and milk. Veva cut the bread and picked the
+blackberries. I put the pan on to heat for the omelette, and this is the
+way we made it:
+
+Three eggs, broken separately and beaten hard--
+
+    "In making an omelette,
+      Children, you see,
+    The longer you beat it,
+      The lighter 'twill be,"
+
+hummed Marjorie, add a teaspoonful of milk, and beat up with the eggs;
+beat until the very last moment when you pour into the pan, in which you
+have dropped a bit of butter, over the hot fire. As soon as it sets,
+move the pan to a cooler part of the stove, and slip a knife under the
+edge to prevent its sticking to the pan; when it is almost firm in the
+middle, slant the pan a little, slip your knife all the way round the
+edge to get it free, then tip it over in such a way that it will fold as
+it falls on the plate.
+
+You should serve an omelette on a hot plate, and it requires a little
+dexterity to learn how to take it out neatly.
+
+Veva exclaimed, "Oh, Milly, you forgot the salt!"
+
+"No," I explained; "French cooks declare that salt should never be mixed
+with eggs when they are prepared for omelette. It makes the omelette
+tough and leathery. A little salt, however, may be sprinkled upon it
+just before it is turned out upon the dish."
+
+Here is another receipt, which Jeanie copied out of her mother's book:
+
+"Six eggs beaten separately, a cup of milk, a teaspoonful of corn-starch
+mixed smoothly in a little of the milk, a tablespoonful of melted
+butter, a dash of pepper, and a sprinkle of salt. Beat well together,
+the yolks of the eggs only being used in this mixture. When thoroughly
+beaten add the foaming whites and set in a very quick oven."
+
+It will rise up as light as a golden puff ball, but it must not be used
+in a family who have a habit of coming late to breakfast, because, if
+allowed to stand, this particular omelette grows presently as flat as a
+flounder.
+
+After breakfast came the task of washing the dishes. Is there anything
+which girls detest as they do this everyday work? Every day? Three times
+a day, at least, it must be done in most houses, and somebody must do
+it.
+
+Veva said: "I'd like to throw the dishes away after every meal. If a
+fairy would offer _me_ three wishes the first one I'd make would be
+never to touch a dishcloth again so long as I lived."
+
+"Oh, Veva!" exclaimed Marjorie. "Think of the lovely china the Enderbys
+have, and the glass which came to Mrs. Curtis from her
+great-grandmother. Would you like a piece of that to be broken if it
+were yours?"
+
+"No-o-o!" acknowledged Veva. "But our dishes are not so sacred, and our
+Bridgets break them regularly. We are always having to buy new ones as
+it is. Mamma groans, and sister Constance sighs, and Aunt Ernie scolds,
+but the dishes go."
+
+"Mother thinks that the old-fashioned gentlewomen, who used to wash the
+breakfast things themselves, were very sensible and womanly."
+
+Eva shrugged her plump shoulders, but took a towel to wipe the silver. I
+had gathered up the dishes, and taken my own way of going about this
+piece of work.
+
+First I took a pan of hot water in which I had dissolved a bit of soap,
+and I attacked the disagreeable things--the saucepans and broilers and
+pots and pans. They are very useful, but they are not ornamental. All
+nice housekeepers are very particular to cleanse them thoroughly,
+removing every speck of grease from both the outside and the inside, and
+drying them until they shine.
+
+It isn't worth while to ruin your hands or make them coarse and rough
+when washing pots and pans. I use a mop, and do not put my hands into
+the hot, greasy water. Mother says one may do housework and look like a
+lady if she has common sense.
+
+I finished the pots and pans and set my cups and saucers in a row, my
+plates scraped and piled together, my silver in the large china bowl,
+and my glasses were all ready for the next step. I had two pans, one
+half-filled with soapy, the other with clear water, and having given my
+dainty dishes a bath in the first I treated them to a dip in the
+second, afterward letting them drain for a moment on the tray at my
+right hand. Veva and Marjorie wiped the silver and glass with the soft
+linen towels which are kept for these only; next I took my plates, then
+the platters, and finally the knives. Just as we finished the last dish
+I heard grandmother's tap, tap on the floor over my head.
+
+There's an art in everything, even in washing dishes. I fancy one might
+grow fond of it, if only one took an interest in always doing it well.
+
+Perhaps it is because my parents are Friends, and I have been taught
+that it is foolish to be flurried and flustered and to hurry over any
+work, but I do think that one gets along much faster when one does not
+make too much haste.
+
+I do hope I may always act just as mother does, she is so sweet and
+peaceful, never cross, never worried. Now, dear grandmamma is much more
+easily vexed. But then she is older and she has the Van Doren headaches.
+
+Tap, tap came the call of the ebony stick. I ran up to grandmamma's
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+A CANDY PULL.
+
+
+Of all things in the world, what should grandmamma propose but my
+sending for Miss Muffet! Great-aunt Jessamine had gone away long before.
+
+"I believe it was to-day that the girls meant to have the candy pull at
+Jeanie's, wasn't it?" grandmamma asked.
+
+"Yes, darling grandmamma," I said, "they may have it; but I am not going
+to desert you."
+
+"Thee is very kind, dearie," replied grandmamma; "but I need only quiet,
+and Hetty will come out of her attack just as well without thee as with
+thee. I particularly wish that thee would go. How is thee to have the
+fair unless thee has the candy pull? The time is passing, too. It will
+soon be school and lessons again."
+
+So, at grandmamma's urging, I went for Miss Muffet. The little woman
+came without much delay, and took hold, as she expressed it, looking
+after both our invalids; and in the meantime telling me how to broil a
+steak for my grandmamma's and our own dinner, and how to fry potatoes so
+that they should not be soaked with grease.
+
+A girl I know gained a set of Dickens' works by broiling a steak so as
+to please her father, who was a fastidious gentleman, and said he
+wanted it neither overdone nor underdone, but just right.
+
+For broiling you need a thick steak, a clear fire, and a clean gridiron.
+Never try to broil meat over a blaze. You must have a bed of coals, with
+a steady heat. The steak must not be salted until you have turned each
+side to the fire; and it must be turned a good many times and cooked
+evenly. It will take from five to seven minutes to broil it properly,
+and it will then have all the juices in, and be fit for a king.
+
+I don't know that kings have any better food than other gentlemen, but
+one always supposes that they will have the very best.
+
+A steak may be cooked very appetizingly in the frying pan; but the pan
+must be very hot, and have no grease in it. Enough of that will ooze
+from the fat of the steak to keep it from sticking fast. A good steak
+cooked in a cold frying-pan and simmering in grease is an abomination.
+So declares Miss Muffet, and all epicures with her.
+
+To fry potatoes or croquettes or any other thing well, one must have
+plenty of lard or butter or beef drippings, as she prefers, and let it
+boil. It should bubble up in the saucepan, and there should be enough of
+it to cover the wire basket in which the delicately sliced potatoes are
+laid--a few at time--to cook. They will not absorb fat, because the
+heat, when the first touch of it is given, will form a tight skin over
+them, and the grease cannot pierce this. They will be daintily brown,
+firm and dry.
+
+But this isn't telling of our candy pull.
+
+We had set our hearts on having fun and doing good--killing two birds
+with one stone, as Al Fay said. But I do not approve of that proverb,
+for certainly no _girl_ ever wishes to kill a bird; no more does a
+decent boy think of such a thing.
+
+We resolved to have a fair and to sell candy at it, making every bit
+ourselves.
+
+Therefore we had sent out some invitations to girls not of the club, and
+to some of the nicest boys. They were as follows:
+
+     The Clover Leaf Club of Bloomdale requests the pleasure of your
+     company at the house of Miss Jeanie Cartwright, on Friday evening,
+     September 8, at eight o'clock. Candy pull.
+
+                                                MILLY VAN DOREN,
+                                                     _President._
+
+     LOIS PARTRIDGE,
+         _Secretary._
+
+I had my doubts all day as to whether it would be right for me to go;
+but about four o'clock Aunt Hetty, looking as well as ever, came out of
+her room in a stiffly starched gingham gown, and proceeded to cook for
+herself a rasher of bacon and some eggs. Grandmamma was up and reading
+one of her favorite books; and Miss Muffett, who had stepped over to her
+house to attend to her sister and the parrot, came back declaring her
+intention to stay all night.
+
+"So, my darling child, you may go, and welcome."
+
+Away went my doubts and fears, and I tripped merrily down the street to
+Jeanie's, feeling the happier for a letter from mother, which I found at
+the post office.
+
+Our candy was to be sold for a cent a stick, but the sticks were not
+scanty little snips by any means. Mrs. Cartwright made us a present of
+the molasses, Lois brought the sugar from home, Al Fay brought the
+saleratus, Patty remembered about the vinegar, and Marjorie produced the
+butter.
+
+These were the ingredients: a half-gallon of New Orleans molasses, a cup
+of vinegar, a piece of butter as large as two eggs, a good teaspoonful
+of saleratus dissolved in hot water.
+
+We melted the sugar in the vinegar, stirred it into the molasses, and
+let it come to the boil, stirring steadily. The boys took turns at this
+work.
+
+When the syrup began to thicken we dropped in the saleratus, which makes
+it clear; then flouring our hands, each took a position, and pulled it
+till it was white.
+
+The longer we pulled, the whiter it grew. We ate some of it, but we
+girls were quite firm in saving half for our sale.
+
+Then we made maple-sugar caramels. Have you ever tried them? They are
+splendid. You must have maple sugar to begin with; real sugar from the
+trees in Vermont if you can get it. You will need a deep saucepan. Then
+into a quart of fresh sweet milk break two pounds of sugar. Set it over
+the fire. As the sugar melts, it will expand. Boil, boil, boil, stir,
+stir, stir. Never mind if your face grows hot. One cannot make candy
+sitting in a rocking-chair with a fan. One doesn't calculate to, as
+Great-aunt Jessamine always says.
+
+The way to test it when you _think_ it is done is to drop a portion in
+cold water. If brittle enough to break, it is done. Pour into square
+buttered pans, and mark off while soft into little squares with a knife.
+
+Some people like cream candy. It is made in this way: three large
+cupfuls of loaf-sugar, six tablespoonfuls of water. Boil, without
+stirring, in a bright tin pan until it will crisp in water like molasses
+candy. Flavor it with essence of lemon or vanilla; just before it is
+done, add one teaspoonful of cream of tartar. Powder your hands with
+flour, and pull it until it is perfectly white.
+
+_Plain Caramels_.--One pound of brown sugar, a quarter of a pound of
+chocolate, one pint of cream, one teaspoonful of butter, two
+tablespoonfuls of molasses. Boil for thirty minutes, stirring all the
+time; test by dropping into cold water. Flavor with vanilla, and mark
+off as you do the maple caramels.
+
+Home-made candy is sure to be of good materials, and will seldom be
+harmful unless the eater takes a great quantity. Then the pleasure of
+making it counts for something.
+
+Our little fair was held the day after the candy pull, and the boys put
+up a tent for us in Colonel Fay's grounds. Admission to the tent was
+five cents. We sold candy, cake, ice-cream, and--home-made bread, and
+our gains were nineteen dollars and ten cents. There were an apron
+table, and a table where we sold pin-cushions and pen-wipers; but our
+real profits came from the bread, which the girls' fathers were so proud
+of that they bought it at a dollar a loaf. With the money which came
+from the fair, we sent two little girls, Dot and Dimpsie, our poorest
+children in Bloomdale, where most people were quite comfortably off, to
+the seaside for three whole weeks.
+
+I do not know what we would have done in Bloomdale if Dot and Dimpsie
+had not had a father who would rather go off fishing, or lounge in the
+sun telling stories, than support his family. Everybody disapproved of
+Jack Roper, but everybody liked his patient little wife and his two dear
+little girls, and we all helped them on.
+
+There was no excuse for Jack. He was a tall, strong man, a good hunter,
+fisher and climber, a sailor whenever he could get the chance to go off
+on a cruise; but he would not work steadily. He did not drink, or swear,
+or abuse his wife; but he did not support her, and if people called him
+Shiftless Jack, he only laughed.
+
+As he was the only person in Bloomdale who behaved in this way, we did
+what mother calls condoning his offences--we called on him for odd jobs
+of repairing and for errands and extra work, such as lighting fires and
+carrying coals in winter, shoveling snow and breaking paths, weeding
+gardens in summer, and gathering apples in the fall. We girls determined
+to take care of Dot and Dimpsie, and help Mrs. Roper along.
+
+They were two dear little things, and Mrs. Roper was very glad of our
+assistance.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+KEEPING ACCOUNTS.
+
+
+Mother's way in one particular is different from that of some other
+people. Veva Fay and Lois Partridge never have any money of their own.
+They always ask their parents for what they want. If Lois' papa is in a
+happy frame of mind, he will give her a five-dollar gold piece, and say:
+"There, go along, little girl, and buy as many bonbons as you please.
+When that's gone, you know where to come for more."
+
+If he happens to be tired, or if something in the city has gone wrong
+that day, he will very likely meet her modest request with a "Don't
+bother me, child! I won't encourage your growing up in foolish
+extravagance."
+
+Veva's father and mother make such a pet of her that they cannot bear to
+deny her anything, and she will often order pretty things when she goes
+to town, and is out walking with her cousins, just because they are
+pretty, and not because she has any real use for them. If there were any
+beggars here, Veva would empty that little silken purse of hers every
+time she saw them, but the club has forbidden her to spoil Dot and
+Dimpsie in that way. And she is too much of a lady to outshine the rest
+of us.
+
+Mother and father both believe in keeping an exact account of expenses.
+Money is a great trust, and we must use it with care. Economy, which
+some people suppose to be another name for saving, is a beautiful
+picture word which signifies to guide the house. Mother thinks economy
+cannot be learned in a day. So when I was little she began by giving me
+ten cents every Saturday morning. At the same time she put in my hand a
+little book and a pencil.
+
+"See, daughter," she said, "thee is to set thy ten cents down on one
+page, and that will show how much thee has to spend. On the other thee
+is to put down the penny given in church, the penny for taffy, for
+fines."
+
+For fines? What could she mean?
+
+Well, perhaps you will laugh; but my mother's way is never to let a
+child in her care use slang, or slam doors, or leave things lying about
+in wrong places, or speak unkindly of the absent. Half a cent had to be
+paid every time I did any of these things, and I kept my own account of
+them, and punished myself. I always knew when I had violated one of
+mother's golden rules by her grieved look, or father's surprised one, or
+by a little prick from my conscience.
+
+"And what was done with the fines?" asked Jeanie, when I told her of
+this plan.
+
+"Oh, they went into our hospital fund, and twice a year--at midsummer
+and Christmas--they were sent away to help some good Sisters who spent
+their lives in looking after poor little cripples, or blind children, or
+who went about in tenements to care for the old and sick."
+
+At every week's end I had to bring my book to mother, add up what I had
+spent, and subtract the amount from my original sum. If both were the
+same, it was all right. If I had spent less than I received last
+Saturday, then there was a balance in my favor, and something was there
+all ready to add to my new ten cents. But if I had gone into debt, or
+fallen short, or borrowed from anybody, mother was much displeased.
+
+As I grew older my allowance was increased, until now I buy my gowns and
+hats, give presents out of my own money, and have a little sum in the
+savings-bank.
+
+My housekeeping account while mother was absent was quite separate from
+any other of my own. Mother handed me the housekeeping books and the
+housekeeping money, with the keys, and left me responsible.
+
+"Thee knows, Milly love," she said, "that I never have bills. I pay
+everybody each week. Thee must do the same. And always put down the
+day's expenses at the end of the day. Then nothing will be forgotten."
+
+At the close of the year mother knows where every penny of hers has
+gone. Even to the value of a postage-stamp or a postal-card.
+
+As the Clover Leaf Club girls were not all so fortunate as I in having
+an allowance, they took less interest in learning how to shop.
+
+There are two ways of shopping. One is to set out without a very
+definite idea of what you wish to buy, and to buy what you do not want,
+if the shopman persuades you to do so, or it pleases your fancy.
+
+The other is to make a list of articles before you leave home,
+something like this: Nine yards of merino for gown; three yards of
+silesia; two spools of cotton, Nos. 30 and 50; one spool of twist; one
+dozen crochet buttons; a dozen fine napkins and a lunch cloth; five
+yards of blue ribbon one inch wide; a paper of pins; a bottle of
+perfumery; five-eighths of a yard of ruching for the neck.
+
+Provided with such a memorandum, the person who has her shopping to do
+will save time by dividing her articles into classes. The linen goods
+will probably be near together in the shop, and she will buy them first;
+then going to the counters where dress goods are kept, she will choose
+her gown and whatever belongs to it; the thread, pins, twist and other
+little articles will come next; and last, her ruching and ribbon.
+
+She will have accomplished without any trouble, fuss, or loss of temper
+what would have wearied an unsystematic girl who has never learned how
+to shop.
+
+Then, before she set out, she would have known very nearly how much she
+could afford to spend--that is, she would have known if _my_ mother's
+way had been her mother's--and on no account would she have spent more
+than she had allowed herself in thinking it over at home.
+
+When the club undertook charge of all Dot's and Dimpsie's expenses, it
+was rather a puzzle to some of us to know how we were to pay our share.
+I set apart something from my allowance. Lois watched for her papa's
+pleasant moods. Veva danced up to her father, put her arms around his
+neck, and lifted her mouth for a kiss, coaxed him for some money to give
+away, which she always received directly. Others of the girls were at a
+loss what to do.
+
+Jeanie and Linda had a happy thought, which they carried out. They said:
+"We have learned how to make bread and biscuits and cake and candy, and
+we all know how often our friends cannot persuade cooks to stay in their
+houses. We will make bread or cake on Saturday mornings for anybody who
+is good enough to pay for it."
+
+They could not see why it was not just as sensible a thing to make and
+sell good bread as to paint scarfs or embroider tidies, and mother,
+after she heard of their proposal, quite agreed with them.
+
+Through our efforts, combined as they were, we sent our little girls to
+Kindergarten, kept warm shoes and stockings on their feet, and brought
+them up respectably, though Jack Roper was as odd and indolent as ever,
+and never showed by so much as a look that he imagined anybody took an
+interest in his children.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+WE GIVE A RECEPTION.
+
+
+Everything pleasant comes to an end, even pleasant vacations, and when
+the golden-rods were bowing to the asters, like gallant knights to their
+ladyloves, and the red sumachs were hanging out the first flags of
+autumn, we girls had to think of school once more.
+
+The books which had been closed for almost three months beckoned us
+again, and delightful as the Clover Leaf meetings had grown, we knew
+that for the next nine months we should hold them only on Saturdays,
+perhaps not always then.
+
+"Girls," said Linda Curtis, "what shall we do for a wind-up to the
+summer? Something which has never been done in Bloomdale. Something
+which will be remembered when we are grown up and have forgotten our
+girlish pranks?"
+
+Linda's suggestion was approved unanimously, but nobody could propose
+anything which everybody liked.
+
+Finally Jeanie and Amy, who had been putting their heads together, and
+whispering until the Chair had to call them to order, showed by their
+smiling faces that they had a bright idea.
+
+"Miss President," said Jeanie, "if I may, I should like to make a
+motion."
+
+"Miss Cartwright has the floor," said the President, gravely.
+
+"I move that the Bloomdale Clover Leaf Club give a reception in the
+Academy to all the Bloomdale neighbors and friends, _with a programme_,
+and refreshments afterward."
+
+"Is the motion seconded?" inquired the President.
+
+"I second the motion," exclaimed Miss Amy Pierce, rapturously.
+
+"It is moved and seconded that we give a reception at the Academy, with
+a programme and refreshments. Are there any remarks?"
+
+I should think there were. Why, they flew about like snow-flakes in a
+hurricane.
+
+"Why in the Academy?"
+
+"Why not in somebody's parlor?"
+
+"What sort of a programme?"
+
+"Tableaux would be splendid!"
+
+"Not tableaux! Charades?"
+
+"Why not have a little play? That would be best, and we could all act."
+
+"What sort of refreshments? A regular supper, or lemonade and cake, or
+cake and ice-cream?"
+
+At last it was resolved to carry out the reception idea, and to have a
+little play in which Dot and Dimpsie could be brought in, also a very
+magnificent Maltese cat belonging to Patty Curtis, and Miss Muffet's
+parrot. The cat, arrayed in a lace ruff, with a red ribbon, would be an
+imposing figure, and the parrot would look well as one of the
+properties. Miss Muffet herself, in some character, probably as a Yankee
+school-mistress, must be persuaded to appear.
+
+Well, you may imagine what a flutter we were in! We trimmed the old
+Academy with ferns and running pine and great wreaths of golden-rod,
+while feathery clematis was looped and festooned over the windows and
+around the portraits of former teachers, which adorned the walls.
+
+Our play was written for us by Mr. Robert Pierce, Amy's brother, who
+goes to Harvard, and he brought in both our pets, and the cat and
+parrot, and had in ever so many hits which Bloomdale folks could enjoy,
+knowing all about them.
+
+The only thing which interfered with my pleasure was that mother was not
+here, and I had expected her home. I nearly cried into the lemonade, and
+almost blistered the icing of the pound-cake with tears; but seeing
+grandmamma gaze at me with a whole exclamation point in her eyes, I gave
+myself a mental shake, and said, not aloud, but in my mind: "Don't be a
+baby, Milly Van Doren! A big girl like you! Be good! There, now!"
+
+But I was not the most unhappy girl when, just after my part in the
+play was over, I heard a little movement in the audience, and saw a
+stirring as of surprise at the other end of the room.
+
+Who was that? A sweet face in a Quaker bonnet, a white kerchief folded
+primly over a gown of dove-colored satin, a pure plain dress, looking
+very distinguished, for all its simplicity, among the gay toilet of the
+"world's people."
+
+Surely, no--yes, it was, it could be no one but mother!
+
+I threaded my way through the crowded aisles, gentlemen and ladies
+opening a path for me, and before everybody I was clasped in her dear
+arms. And there was father smiling down at me, and saying, as mother
+told me, to be composed, for I was half crying, half laughing: "Of
+course she'll be composed. I have always said thee could trust our
+little lass."
+
+I squeezed myself into a seat between the two darlings, forgetful that I
+was the President of the Clover Leaf Club; and there I sat till the play
+was over, when something happened that was not on the programme.
+
+A tall shabby form advanced to the front of the room, and mounted the
+stage.
+
+It was Jack Roper! We held our breath. What did this mean?
+
+"I want, fellow-townsmen and ladies," said Jack, with the utmost
+coolness, "to return thanks to the Clover Leaf young ladies for the good
+example they've been a settin' our wives and darters. Them girls is
+trumps!"
+
+Down sat Jack in a storm of applause. This speech, if not elegant, was
+at least sincere.
+
+He was followed by a very different personage. No less a man than Judge
+Curtis arose and gave us a little address, after which Amy Pierce and
+Lois Partridge played a duet on the piano.
+
+Then the refreshments were distributed. There was a merry time talking
+and laughing over the feast, and we all went home. Miss Muffet looked
+radiant, she had so many compliments, and Aunt Hetty, who appeared in
+her stiffest calico, was not backward in accepting some for herself.
+Though what she had done, except try my patience, it was puzzling to us
+to tell.
+
+My precious mother had the very prettiest surprise of all for us when
+her trunks were opened. It is her way to make people happy, and she goes
+through the world like an angel.
+
+For every girl in the club she had brought home a silver pin in the
+shape of a four-leaved clover. "Whether you keep up the club or not,"
+she said, "it will be a pretty souvenir of a very happy summer."
+
+I don't know whether I have made mother's way plain to all my readers,
+but I hope they see it is a way of taking pains, of being kind, of being
+honest and diligent, and never doing with one hand what ought to be done
+with both. If I learn to keep house in mother's way I shall be perfectly
+satisfied.
+
+Father says: "Thee certainly may, dear child! For my part, I trust my
+little lass."
+
+
+
+
+    The Lighthouse Lamp.
+
+    BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+    The winds came howling down from the north,
+      Like a hungry wolf for prey,
+    And the bitter sleet went hurtling forth,
+      In the pallid face of the day.
+
+    And the snowflakes drifted near and far,
+      Till the land was whitely fleeced,
+    And the light-house lamp, a golden star,
+      Flamed over the waves' white yeast.
+
+    In the room at the foot of the light-house
+      Lay mother and babe asleep,
+    And little maid Gretchen was by them there,
+      A resolute watch to keep.
+
+    There were only the three on the light-house isle,
+      But father had trimmed the lamp,
+    And set it burning a weary while
+      In the morning's dusk and damp.
+
+    "Long before night I'll be back," he said,
+      And his white sail slipped away;
+    Away and away to the mainland sped,
+      But it came not home that day.
+
+    The mother stirred on her pillow's space,
+      And moaned in pain and fear,
+    Then looked in her little daughter's face
+      Through the blur of a starting tear.
+
+    "Darling," she whispered, "it's piercing cold,
+      And the tempest is rough and wild;
+    And you are no laddie strong and bold,
+      My poor little maiden child.
+
+    "But up aloft there's the lamp to feed,
+      Or its flame will die in the dark,
+    And the sailor lose in his utmost need
+      The light of our islet's ark."
+
+    "I'll go," said Gretchen, "a step at a time;
+      Why, mother, I'm twelve years old,
+    And steady, and never afraid to climb,
+      And I've learned to do as I'm told."
+
+    Then Gretchen up to the top of the tower,
+      Up the icy, smooth-worn stair,
+    Went slowly and surely that very hour,
+      The sleet in her eyes and hair.
+
+    She fed the lamp, and she trimmed it well,
+      And its clear light glowed afar,
+    To warn of reefs, and of rocks to tell,
+      This mariner's guiding star.
+
+    And once again when the world awoke
+      In the dawn of a bright new day,
+    There was joy in the hearts of the fisher folks
+      Along the stormy bay.
+
+    When the little boats came sailing in
+      All safe and sound to the land,
+    _To the haven the light had helped them win,
+      By the aid of a child's brave hand._
+
+
+
+
+The Family Mail-bag.
+
+BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.
+
+
+The family mail-bag was made of black and white straw arranged in
+checks. It was flat and nearly square, was lined with gray linen and
+fastened at the top with narrow black ribbon. It had two long handles,
+finely made of straw, and these handles Luella and Francis were
+accustomed to grasp when, twice a day regularly, at half-past eight in
+the morning and at half-past three in the afternoon, they went for the
+family mail.
+
+Their instructions were always to go back and forth to the post-office
+without stopping, always to tie the bag securely after putting the mail
+inside, and never to open it after it was thus fastened. They were to
+take turns in carrying the bag, and upon returning to their home were
+always to take it at once to the study of their father, Rev. Mr.
+Robinson.
+
+So important a personage as a public mail-carrier had never been seen in
+the small village in which they lived. In his absence the two children
+performed their service well. At least they always did excepting on one
+unfortunate day, and that is the day of which our story is to tell.
+
+The children went to the office as usual, and were quite delighted at
+finding there a registered letter addressed to "Luella and Francis
+Robinson." Luella felt very proud when the postmaster asked her, as the
+elder, to sign the registered receipt.
+
+"What's that for?" asked Francis.
+
+"It's for proof that you've received the letter. You see that a
+registered letter usually contains something valuable."
+
+"I wonder what it can be? It's from Aunt Maria. See, her address is
+written on the side of the envelope?"
+
+"Yes," said the postmaster, who was a very good friend of the children.
+"It's certainly from your aunt, and it probably contains something for
+you both, but, you'd better put it in your bag now and tie it up,
+according to your father's wish."
+
+The children obediently acted upon this suggestion and started for home.
+On their way they talked constantly of their letter, trying vainly to
+guess what it might contain.
+
+"It's something small, anyway," said Luella, "for it doesn't seem to
+take any room."
+
+"Maybe 'tisn't anything, after all," said Francis.
+
+"Oh, yes, it is; for the letter is registered, you know."
+
+So they went on talking and wondering until they had gone about half the
+distance toward home. Then they reached a spreading apple tree which
+grew by a fence near the sidewalk, and beneath which was a large stone,
+often used as a resting-place for pedestrians.
+
+"Let's sit down a while," said Francis. "I feel tired; don't you?"
+
+"Yes, but father wouldn't like us to stop."
+
+"Oh, yes, he would, if he knew how tired we are. I'm going to rest a
+moment, anyway. That can't be any harm."
+
+Luella allowed herself to follow her brother's example. So they took the
+first step in disobedience.
+
+Next Luella said: "I wonder if we couldn't just unfasten the bag and
+look at that letter again. It's our letter, you know."
+
+"Of course, it is. Give me the bag. I'll open it."
+
+Then, without more ado, Francis deliberately opened the bag. Thus the
+second step in wrong-doing was taken.
+
+They examined the letter closely and leisurely, not one minute, but many
+minutes, passing while they were thus engaged. Then Luella said: "I'm
+going to read the letter. It's all the same whether we read it here or
+at home."
+
+It proved to be a very kind letter from Aunt Maria, who had lately made
+them a visit. She concluded by saying: "While I was with you I took
+pleasure in noticing your constant obedience. As a sort of reward, I
+enclose for you each a five-dollar gold piece. Please accept the gift
+with my love."
+
+"Where are the gold pieces?" asked Francis, taking the envelope from
+Luella, "Oh! here's one in the corner of this thing. I'll take this; but
+where's the other?"
+
+Where was the other? It was easier to ask the question than to reply.
+The two children folded and unfolded the letter. They turned the
+envelope inside out. They searched through their clothing. They
+inspected the grass and the path. If it had been possible, they would
+have lifted the stone upon which they had been sitting; but that would
+have been an herculean task. At length they reluctantly gave up the
+search and sadly went on their way homeward.
+
+"I wish we hadn't opened the letter," said Luella. "What are we going to
+tell mother and father anyhow?"
+
+"Well, I think we'd better tell them the whole story. Perhaps they'll
+help us look for the other gold piece."
+
+Francis, with the one coin in his hand, naturally took a more hopeful
+view of the situation than his sister did.
+
+"Perhaps Aunt Maria only put one in the letter," he suggested.
+
+"Oh, no; she's too careful for that. She never makes mistakes," said
+Luella, positively. "I only wish we'd minded. That's all."
+
+Francis echoed the wish in his heart, though he did not repeat it aloud.
+Thus, a repentant couple, they entered the house and the study. Mother
+was upstairs attending to baby, and father was evidently out. The
+brother and sister awaited his return in silence, Luella meanwhile
+grasping the letter, and Francis the single coin.
+
+"What's that you have?" asked Mr. Robinson; "a letter? How did it get
+out of the bag?"
+
+"It's ours," answered Luella, trembling while she spoke. "We--we--we--"
+then she burst into tears.
+
+"Let me have it," commanded Mr. Robinson.
+
+Luella obeyed, and went on weeping while her father read. Francis wanted
+to cry, too, but he thought it was unmanly, and choked back the tears.
+
+"I need ask you no more questions," said their father. "The truth is
+that I was calling on old Mrs. Brown when you stopped under the apple
+tree, and I saw the whole thing from her window. You don't know how
+sorry I felt when I found that my boy and girl couldn't be trusted. I
+saw that you had lost something, and after you had left I examined the
+grass about the stone and found the other gold piece. But I shall have
+to punish you by putting the money away for a whole month. At the end of
+that time I will return it to you, if I find that you are obedient
+meanwhile. I do not intend to be severe, but I think that ordinarily you
+are good children, and I understand how strong the temptation was. Are
+you not sorry that you yielded to it?"
+
+"Yes, sir, we are," exclaimed both children, emphatically.
+
+"And now, what am I going to do about the mail-bag? Can I let you have
+it after this?"
+
+"Yes, father, you can," they both replied once more; and after that they
+were always worthy of their trust.
+
+When Aunt Maria made her next visit they told her the story of their
+misdoing. Her only comment was: "You see, children, that it is necessary
+always to pray, 'Deliver us from evil,' for even when we want to do
+right, without help from above, we shall fail."
+
+
+
+
+A Day's Fishing.
+
+BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.
+
+
+Six lively boys had been spending their vacation at Clovernook Farm,
+and, as any one may imagine, they had been having the liveliest sort of
+a time.
+
+There were Mr. Hobart's two nephews, James and Fred; and Mrs. Hobart's
+two nephews, John and Albert, and two others, Milton and Peter, who,
+though only distant cousins, were considered as part of the family.
+
+To tell of all the things that these six had been doing during the eight
+weeks of their stay would be to write a history in several volumes. They
+had had innumerable games of tennis and croquet; had fished along the
+banks of streams; helped in the harvest field; taken straw-rides by
+moonlight; traveled many scores of miles on bicycles; taken photographs
+good and bad; gone out with picnic parties; learned to churn and to work
+butter; picked apples and eaten them, and they had plenty of energy left
+still.
+
+The climax of their enjoyment was reached on the very last day of their
+visit. Mr. Hobart had promised to take them for a day's fishing on a
+lake about ten miles distant from his house. On this fair September day
+he redeemed his promise. A jolly load set out in the gray of the early
+morning, equipped with poles, lines, bait, and provisions enough for the
+day. Having no other way to give vent to their spirits, they sang
+college songs all along the road. Of course, they surprised many an
+early riser by their vigorous rendering of familiar airs. Even cows and
+chickens and horses and pigs gazed at them with wondering eyes, as if to
+say, "Who are these noisy fellows, disturbing our morning meditations?"
+
+As the boys approached the lake they saw a strange-looking object on the
+water. What it might be they could not for a while decide. Certainly it
+was not a boat, and what else could be floating so calmly several feet
+out from the land?
+
+At length their strained eyes solved the mystery. It was a rudely built
+raft with a stool upon it, and upon the stool sat a ragged urchin ten or
+twelve years of age.
+
+"Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha!" shouted the six boys in unison.
+
+"Fine rig you have there!" called one.
+
+"What will you take for your ship?" shouted another.
+
+For all response the stranger simply stared.
+
+"Don't hurt his feelings, boys," said Mr. Hobart kindly, "he's getting
+enjoyment in his own way, and I suspect that it's the best way he knows
+of."
+
+Conscious of impoliteness, the boys subsided, and nothing more was
+thought of the stranger for several hours.
+
+About noon, however, as they were resting on the shore, he appeared
+before them with an old cigar box in his hand.
+
+"Want some crickets and grasshoppers?" he asked timidly. "I've been
+catching them for you, if you want them."
+
+"Yes, they are exactly the things we need," replied Mr. Hobart. "How
+much do you want for the lot?"
+
+"Oh, you're welcome to them. I hadn't nothin' else to do."
+
+"Well, that's what I call returning good for evil. Didn't you hear these
+chaps laugh at you this morning?"
+
+"Yes, but that's nothin'. I'm used to that sort of thing. Folks has
+laughed at me allus."
+
+"Well, we won't laugh at you now. Have some dinner, if you won't have
+any pay."
+
+The boy had refused money, but he could not refuse the tempting
+sandwiches and cakes which were offered to him. His hungry look appealed
+to the hearts of the other boys quite as forcibly as his comical
+attitude had before appealed to their sense of the ludicrous.
+
+Now they shared their dinner with him in most hospitable manner.
+Fortunately Mrs. Hobart was of a generous disposition, and had provided
+an abundance of food. Otherwise the picnic baskets might have given out
+with this new demand upon their contents.
+
+"What shall we call you?" said Mr. Hobart to the unexpected guest.
+
+"Sam Smith's my name. I am generally called Sam for short."
+
+"Well, Sam, I think you're right down hungry, and I'm glad you happened
+along our way. Where do you live, my boy?"
+
+"I've been a-workin' over there in the farmhouse yonder, but they've got
+through with me, and I'm just a-makin' up my mind where to go next."
+
+"Seems to me you're rather young to earn your own living. Have you no
+father or mother?"
+
+"Yes, in the city. But they have seven other boys and it's pretty hard
+work to get along. I'm the oldest, I am, so I try to turn a penny for
+myself. A gentleman got me this place, and paid my way out here, but
+he's gone back to town now. I s'pose he hoped the folks would keep me,
+but they don't need me no longer."
+
+Mr. Hobart was a man of kindly deeds. More than that, he was a
+Christian. As he stood talking with the stranger lad the words of the
+Master ran through his mind: "The poor ye have with ye always, and
+whensoever ye will ye may do them good."
+
+Certainly here was an opportunity to help a friendless boy. It should
+not be thrown away.
+
+"How would you like to engage yourself to me for the fall and winter?
+These boys are all going off to-morrow, and I need a boy about your size
+to run errands and help me with the chores."
+
+"Really? Honest?"
+
+"Yes, really I do. I want a good boy who will obey me and my wife, and I
+have an idea that you may suit."
+
+"I'll try to, sir."
+
+"Then jump into that boat and help us fish and I'll take you home with
+me to-night."
+
+Sam cast a farewell glance at his raft, just then floating out of sight.
+He had nothing else to take leave of, and no further arrangements to
+make; no packing to do and no baggage to carry. He had simply himself
+and the few clothes he wore. At evening he went home with Mr. Hobart in
+the most matter-of-course way. When the load of fishermen drew up at the
+barn-door he jumped out and began to unhitch as though that had been his
+lifelong work.
+
+Mrs. Hobart, coming out to give a welcome to the chattering group,
+appeared rather puzzled as she counted heads in the twilight. Mr. Hobart
+enjoyed the surprise which he had been expecting.
+
+"Yes, wife," said he aside, answering her thoughts, "I took out six this
+morning and I've brought back seven to-night. We've been for a day's
+fishing, you know, and I rather guess I've caught something more
+valuable than bass or perch, though they're good enough in their way."
+
+"Where did you find him?" asked Mrs. Hobart.
+
+"Sitting on a raft out on the lake."
+
+"He's a poor, homeless fellow, and I reckon that there's room in our
+house for one of Christ's little ones. Isn't that so, wife?"
+
+"Yes, Reuben, it is."
+
+"Then we'll do the best we can for this young chap. I mean to write to
+his parents, for he has given me their address. I think there will be no
+trouble in arranging to have him stay with us. We'll see what we can
+make out of him."
+
+"Reuben, I believe you're always looking out for a chance to do some
+good!"
+
+"That's the way it ought to be, wife."
+
+This conversation took place behind the carryall. None of the boys heard
+it. The six visitors, however, all caught the spirit of benevolence from
+their host. Before departing next day each one had contributed from his
+wardrobe some article of clothing for Sam, and they all showered him
+with good wishes as they left.
+
+"Hope to find you here next summer," they shouted in driving off.
+
+"Hope so," responded Sam.
+
+
+
+
+Why Charlie Didn't Go.
+
+BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.
+
+
+"Dear me! There come Uncle Josh and Aunt Jane, and not a bed in the
+house is made!" Mrs. Upton glanced nervously at the clock--then about to
+strike eleven--surveyed with dismay the disordered kitchen, looked
+through the open door into the dining-room, where the unwashed breakfast
+dishes were yet standing, took her hands out of the dough and ran to
+wash them at the faucet.
+
+"Maria, Maria, stir around. See what you can pick up while they're
+getting out of the cab. Isn't it always just so?"
+
+Maria, the daughter of fifteen, hastily laid aside her novel and did her
+best to remove the cups and saucers from the breakfast table, not
+omitting to break one in her hurry. Meanwhile her mother closed the
+kitchen door, caught up from the dining-room sofa a promiscuous pile of
+hats, coats, rubbers and shawls, threw them into a convenient closet,
+placed the colored cloth on the table and hastened to open the front
+door to admit her guests.
+
+"Come in! Come in! I'm ever so glad to see you, but you must take us
+just as we are. Did you come on the train?"
+
+"Yes, and got Jenkins to bring us up from the station. He's to take us
+back at three o'clock this afternoon. We can't make a long visit, but
+we're going to take dinner with you, if it's perfectly convenient."
+
+"Oh, yes! of course. It's always convenient to have you. We don't make
+strangers of you at all."
+
+While Mrs. Upton spoke these hospitable words her heart sank within her
+at the remembrance of her unbaked bread and her neglect to order meat
+for dinner.
+
+"Here, Maria, just help Aunt Jane to take off her wraps, I'll be right
+back."
+
+Mrs. Upton darted up-stairs, carrying with her a pair of trousers which
+she had been over an hour in mending. For want of them Charlie had been
+unable to go to school that morning. He was reading in his room.
+
+"Here, Charlie! Put these on and run down to the butcher's and get some
+steak, and stop at the baker's and get some rolls and a pie, and tell
+them I'll pay them to-morrow. I don't know where my pocketbook is now."
+
+"Ma," drawled Charlie in reply, "I haven't my shoes up here, only my
+slippers and rubbers."
+
+"Well, wear them then and keep out of the mud. I don't want you sick
+to-night. Be sure to come in the back way so that Uncle Josh won't see
+you. He'll think we're always behindhand."
+
+If Uncle Josh had thought so he would have been near the truth. Mrs.
+Upton was one of those unfortunate persons who seem to be always hard at
+work and always in the drag. She had the undesirable faculty of taking
+hold of things wrong end first.
+
+As water does not rise higher than its level, so children are not apt to
+have better habits than their parents. Charlie and Maria and the rest of
+the family lived in a state of constant confusion.
+
+At noon Mr. Upton came to dinner. It was not unusual for him to be
+forced to wait, and he had learned to be resigned; so he sat down
+patiently to talk with the visitors. Soon three children came in from
+school, all eager to eat and return. What with their clamorous demands,
+and the necessity for preparing extra vegetables and side-dishes, and
+anxiety to please all around, and to prevent her bread from growing
+sour, Mrs. Upton was nearly distracted. Yet Maria tried to help, and
+Aunt Jane invariably looked upon matters with the kindly eye of charity.
+Things were not so bad as they might have been, and dinner was ready at
+last.
+
+After the meal was over the two visitors found a corner in which to
+hold a conference.
+
+"Wife," said Uncle Josh, "Charlie's too bright a young fellow to be left
+to grow up in this way. Suppose we take him home with us for a while?"
+
+"There's nothing I would like better," responded Aunt Jane, whose
+motherly heart was yet sore with grief for her own little Charlie, who
+had been laid in the church-yard years before.
+
+When Mrs. Upton again emerged from the depths of the kitchen they
+repeated the proposal to her, and gained her assent at once.
+
+Charlie was next to be informed, but that was not an easy matter. The
+boy could nowhere be found.
+
+"Perhaps he's gone to school," suggested Aunt Jane.
+
+"No, I told him that since he had to be absent this morning he might as
+well be absent all day. He's somewhere about."
+
+A prolonged search ended in the barn, where Charlie at last was found,
+trying to whittle a ruler out of a piece of kindling-wood. He wished to
+draw maps and had mislaid or lost most of the articles necessary for the
+work.
+
+"Charlie!" exclaimed his mother, "Uncle Josh and Aunt Jane want to take
+you home with them for a long visit. We've been looking all over for
+you. I've been putting your best clothes in a bag, but you'll have to
+be careful about holding it shut, because I can't find the key. Now
+hurry and dress yourself if you want to go."
+
+Charlie gave a loud whistle of delight and hastened to the house to
+arrange his toilet. He washed his face and hands, brushed his hair, put
+on a clean collar, and then went to the kitchen to blacken his shoes. He
+expected to find them on his feet, but lo! there were only the slippers
+and rubbers, donned in the forenoon and forgotten until now.
+
+"Ma! where are my shoes?" he called in stentorian tones. Mrs. Upton
+replied from above stairs, where she was putting a stitch in her son's
+cap: "I don't know--haven't seen them."
+
+"Well, I left them in the kitchen last night. Here, Maria, help a
+fellow, won't you? I can't find my shoes and it's nearly train time.
+There's Jenkins at the door now."
+
+The united efforts of all present resulted in finding the shoes
+entangled in an afghan which Mrs. Upton had unintentionally placed in
+the heap in the closet when she relieved the sofa of its burden.
+
+"Here they are at last. Bravo!" shouted Charlie. Yet his joy was short
+lived. One shoe wouldn't go on. He had slipped it off on the previous
+night without unfastening. There were several knots in the string, and
+all were unmanageable. He struggled breathlessly while Uncle Josh and
+Aunt Jane were getting into the cab, then broke the string in
+desperation just as Jenkins, hearing the car-whistle, drove off to reach
+the train.
+
+"Very sorry! Can't wait another instant!" called out Uncle Josh.
+Charlie, having repaired damages as best he could, reached the front
+door in time to see the back of the carriage away down the street.
+
+"Time and tide wait for no man," observed his mother exasperatingly.
+Perhaps her quotation of the proverb carried with it the weight of her
+experience. Perhaps she thought it her duty to give moral lessons to her
+son, regardless of illustrations.
+
+Charlie's disappointment was rendered bitterer still, when the following
+week there came a letter from Uncle Josh saying that he and Aunt Jane
+were about taking a trip to the West.
+
+"Tell Charlie," said the letter, "that if we only had him with us we
+should certainly take him along."
+
+"Isn't it too bad," said Charlie, "to think I've missed so much, and all
+through the want of a shoe-string?"
+
+
+
+
+Uncle Giles' Paint Brush.
+
+BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.
+
+
+It was a rainy day in summer. A chilly wind swept about the house and
+bent the branches of the trees, and reminded every one who encountered
+it that autumn, with its gales, would return as promptly as ever.
+
+A bright fire was blazing in the sitting-room, and near it were Mrs.
+Strong with her two little girls, and also Aunt Martha Bates, whom they
+were visiting. Rufus Strong, aged fourteen, stood by a closed window,
+listlessly drumming on a pane.
+
+He was tired of reading, and tired of watching the ladies sew, and tired
+of building toy houses for his sisters.
+
+"I guess I'll go out to the barn and find Uncle Giles," said he at
+length.
+
+Mrs. Strong, who had found the music on the window pane rather
+monotonous, quickly responded in favor of the plan.
+
+"Just the one I want to see!" exclaimed Uncle Giles, as Rufus made his
+appearance at the barn door. "I'm getting my tools in order, and now you
+can turn the grind-stone while I sharpen this scythe."
+
+Rufus cheerfully agreed to this proposal, and performed his part with a
+hearty good will.
+
+"Do you always put your tools in order on rainy days?" he asked.
+
+"Well, yes; I always look over them and see if they need attention. Then
+when I want them they are ready for use. Now, since this job is done,
+suppose you undertake another. Wouldn't this be a good time to paint
+those boxes for Aunt Martha's flowers? You know you promised to paint
+them for her, and if you do it now, they'll be good and dry when she
+wants to pot her plants in September?"
+
+"I think you believe in preparing for work beforehand, don't you, Uncle
+Giles?"
+
+"Yes, indeed, that I do. It saves ever so much time when you have any
+work to do to have things all ready. What's the matter, can't you find
+the paint brush?"
+
+"No, Uncle, and I'm sure that I saw it in its place not very long ago."
+
+This reminded Uncle Giles that neighbor Jones had borrowed the brush a
+few days previous and had not yet returned it.
+
+"He promised to bring it home that day," said Mr. Bates, "but he's not
+apt to do things promptly. I guess you'll have to step over to his house
+and ask him if he's through with it."
+
+Rufus started off on the errand and soon, returned carrying the brush in
+a small tin pail, half-full of water.
+
+"Mr. Jones is much obliged to you for the use of it," he said to his
+uncle, "and he's sorry that he hasn't had time to wash out the brush."
+
+Mr. Bates looked rather annoyed. Accustomed to perfect order himself, he
+was often irritated by the slovenly ways of his neighbor.
+
+"Then there's nothing for you to do but repair damages as well as you
+can. What color of paint is in the brush?"
+
+"Red, sir."
+
+"And you want to use green. You'll have to go to the house and get some
+warm soap-suds and give the brush a thorough washing."
+
+Rufus found that he had plenty of occupation for some time after that.
+The brush was soaked up to the handle in the bright red paint, and it
+was a work of patience to give it the necessary cleaning. Indeed, dinner
+time found him just ready to begin the task which might have been easily
+accomplished in the morning had it not been for that long delay.
+
+After dinner he and Uncle Giles again repaired to the barn, where the
+elder cleaned harness while the younger painted.
+
+"I think I begin to realize," said Rufus, "that your plan of having
+tools ready is a good one."
+
+"Yes, it's good, no matter what sort of work you're going to do. I
+believe you wish to be a minister one of these days, don't you, Rufus?"
+
+"Yes, I think so now, Uncle."
+
+"Then you are getting some of your tools ready when you are studying
+Latin and history and other things in school. And you are getting others
+ready when you read the Bible, and when you study your Sunday-school
+lesson, and when you listen to the preaching of your minister. You need
+to take pains to remember what you learn in these ways, for the good
+things in your memory will be the tools that you will have constant use
+for.
+
+"I know a young man who is now studying for the ministry. I think he
+will succeed, for he is very much in earnest and he has natural ability,
+too. Yet he finds his task rather difficult, because he had no
+opportunity to study when he was younger. He has not been trained to
+think or to remember, and the work he is doing now is something like
+your washing the paint brush this morning. It must all be done before he
+can go on to anything better, and he regrets that it was not done at the
+proper time."
+
+"I suppose that the moral for me is to improve my privileges."
+
+"Yes, that's just it. Improve your privileges by getting ready
+beforehand for the work of life. If the paint brush teaches you this
+lesson, you may be glad that you had to stop to get it clean."
+
+
+
+
+    The Pied Piper of Hamelin.
+
+    (_A Child's Story._)
+
+    BY ROBERT BROWNING.
+
+
+    I.
+
+    Hamelin Town's in Brunswick,
+    By famous Hanover city;
+    The river Weser, deep and wide,
+    Washes its wall on the southern side;
+    A pleasanter spot you never spied;
+    But, when begins my ditty,
+    Almost five hundred years ago,
+    To see the townsfolk suffer so
+    From vermin, was a pity.
+
+    II.
+
+       Rats!
+    They fought the dogs and killed the cats,
+    And bit the babies in their cradles,
+    And ate the cheeses out of the vats,
+    And licked the soup from the cooks' own ladles,
+    Split open the kegs of salted sprats,
+    Made nests inside men's Sunday hats,
+    And even spoiled the women's chats
+    By drowning their speaking
+    With shrieking and squeaking
+    In fifty different sharps and flats.
+
+    III.
+
+    At last the people in a body
+    To the Town Hall came flocking:
+    "'Tis clear," cried they, "our Mayor's a noddy:
+    And as for our Corporation--shocking
+    To think we buy gowns lined with ermine
+    For dolts that can't or won't determine
+    What's best to rid us of our vermin!
+    You hope, because you're old and obese,
+    To find in the furry civic robe ease!
+    Rouse up, Sirs! Give your brains a racking
+    To find the remedy we're lacking,
+    Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!"
+    At this the Mayor and Corporation
+    Quaked with a mighty consternation.
+
+    IV.
+
+    An hour they sat in council,
+    At length the Mayor broke silence:
+    "For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell,
+    I wish I were a mile hence!
+    It's easy to bid one rack one's brain--
+    I'm sure my poor head aches again,
+    I've scratched it so, and all in vain.
+    Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!"
+    Just as he said this, what should hap
+    At the chamber door, but a gentle tap!
+    "Bless us," cried the Mayor, "what's that?"
+    (With the Corporation as he sat
+    Looking little though wondrous fat;
+    Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister
+    Than a too-long-opened oyster,
+    Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous
+    For a plate of turtle green and glutinous).
+    "Only a scraping of shoes on the mat
+    Anything like the sound of a rat
+    Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!"
+
+    V.
+
+    "Come in!" the Mayor cried, looking bigger:
+    And in did come the strangest figure!
+    His queer long coat from heel to head
+    Was half of yellow and half of red,
+    And he himself was tall and thin,
+    With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin,
+    And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin
+    No tuft on cheek, nor beard on chin,
+    But lips where smiles went out and in;
+    There was no guessing his kith and kin!
+    And nobody could enough admire
+    The tall man and his quaint attire.
+    Quoth one: "It's as if my great-grandsire,
+    Starting up at the trump of Doom's tone,
+    Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!"
+
+    VI.
+
+    He advanced to the council-table:
+    And "Please your honors," said he, "I'm able,
+    By means of a secret charm, to draw
+    All creatures living beneath the sun,
+    That creep, or swim, or fly, or run
+    After me so as you never saw!
+    And I chiefly use my charm
+    On creatures that do people harm,
+    The mole and toad and newt and viper;
+    And people call me the Pied Piper."
+    (And here they noticed round his neck
+    A scarf of red and yellow stripe,
+    To match with his coat of the self-same cheque;
+    And at the scarf's end hung a pipe;
+    And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying
+    As if impatient to be playing
+    Upon his pipe, as low it dangled
+    Over his vesture so old-fangled.)
+    "Yet," said he, "poor piper as I am,
+    In Tartary I freed the Cham,
+    Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats;
+    I eased in Asia the Nizam
+    Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats:
+    And as for what your brain bewilders,
+    If I can rid your town of rats
+    Will you give me a thousand guilders?"
+    "One? Fifty thousand!" was the exclamation
+    Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.
+
+    VII.
+
+    Into the street the Piper stept,
+    Smiling first a little smile,
+    As if he knew what magic slept
+    In his quiet pipe the while;
+    Then, like a musical adept,
+    To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,
+    And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled,
+    Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled;
+    And ere three shrill notes the pipe had uttered,
+    You heard as if an army muttered;
+    And the muttering grew to a grumbling;
+    And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;
+    And out of the houses the rats came tumbling--
+    Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,
+    Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats,
+    Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,
+    Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,
+    Cocking tails and pricking whiskers,
+    Families by tens and dozens,
+    Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives--
+    Followed the Piper for their lives.
+    From street to street he piped, advancing,
+    And step for step they followed dancing,
+    Until they came to the river Weser
+    Wherein all plunged and perished,
+    Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar,
+    Swam across and lived to carry
+    (As _he_, the manuscript he cherished)
+    To Rat-land home his commentary:
+    Which was, "At the first shrill notes of the pipe,
+    I heard a sound as of scraping tripe,
+    And putting apples, wondrous ripe,
+    Into a cider-press's gripe:
+    And a moving away of pickle-tub boards,
+    And a leaving ajar of conserve cupboards
+    And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks,
+    And a breaking the hoops of butter casks:
+    And it seemed as if a voice
+    (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery
+    Is breathed) called out, 'Oh, rats, rejoice!
+    The world is grown to one vast drysaltery!
+    So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon,
+    Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!'
+    And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon,
+    All ready staved, like a great sun shone
+    Glorious scarce an inch before me,
+    Just as methought it said, 'Come bore me!'--
+    I found the Weser rolling o'er me."
+
+    VIII.
+
+    You should have heard the Hamelin people
+    Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple.
+    "Go," cried the Mayor, "and get long poles,
+    Poke out the nests and block up the holes!
+    Consult with carpenters and builders,
+    And leave in our town not even a trace
+    Of the rats!"--when suddenly, up the face
+    Of the Piper perked in the market-place,
+    With a--"First, if you please, my thousand
+    guilders!"
+
+    IX.
+
+    A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue;
+    So did the Corporation too.
+    For council dinners made rare havoc
+    With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock;
+    And half the money would replenish
+    Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish.
+    To pay this sum to a wandering fellow
+    With a gypsy coat of red and yellow!
+    "Beside," quoth the Mayor, with a knowing wink,
+    "Our business was done at the river's brink;
+    We saw with our eyes the vermin sink,
+    And what's dead can't come to life, I think.
+    So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink
+    From the duty of giving you something for drink,
+    And a matter of money to put into your poke;
+    But as for the guilders, what we spoke
+    Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.
+    Beside, our losses have made us thrifty:
+    A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!"
+
+    X.
+
+    The Piper's face fell, and he cried,
+    "No trifling! I can't wait, beside!
+    I've promised to visit by dinner-time
+    Bagdad, and accept the prime
+    Of the head-cook's pottage, all he's rich in,
+    For having left, in the caliph's kitchen,
+    Of a nest of scorpions, no survivor:
+    With him I proved no bargain-driver,
+    With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver!
+    And folks who put me in a passion
+    May find me pipe to another fashion."
+
+    XI.
+
+    "How?" cried the Mayor, "d'ye think I'll brook
+    Being worse treated than a cook?
+    Insulted by a lazy ribald
+    With idle pipe and vesture piebald?
+    You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst,
+    Blow your pipe there till you burst!"
+
+    XII.
+
+    Once more he stept into the street,
+    And to his lips again
+    Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane;
+    And ere he blew three notes (such sweet
+    Soft notes as yet musician's cunning
+    Never gave the enraptured air)
+    There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling
+    Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling,
+    Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering,
+    Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering,
+    And, like fowls in a farmyard when barley is scattering,
+    Out came the children running.
+    All the little boys and girls,
+    With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,
+    And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls,
+    Tripping and skipping ran merrily after
+    The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.
+
+    XIII.
+
+    The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood
+    As if they were changed into blocks of wood,
+    Unable to move a step, or cry
+    To the children merrily skipping by--
+    --Could only follow with the eye
+    That joyous crowd at the Piper's back.
+    And now the Mayor was on the rack,
+    And the wretched Council's bosoms beat,
+    As the Piper turned from the High Street
+    To where the Weser rolled its waters
+    Right in the way of their sons and daughters!
+    However he turned from south to west,
+    And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed
+    And after him the children pressed;
+    Great was the joy in every breast.
+    "He never can cross that mighty top!
+    He's forced to let the piping drop,
+    And we shall see our children stop!"
+    When, lo, as they reached the mountain-side,
+    A wondrous portal opened wide,
+    As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;
+    And the Piper advanced and the children followed,
+    And when all were in to the very last,
+    The door in the mountain-side shut fast.
+    Did I say, all? No! One was lame,
+    And could not dance the whole of the way;
+    And in after years, if you would blame
+    His sadness, he was used to say,--
+    "It's dull in our town since my playmates left!
+    I can't forget that I'm bereft
+    Of all the pleasant sights they see,
+    Which the Piper also promised me.
+    For he led us, he said, to a joyous land,
+    Joining the town and just at hand,
+    Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew,
+    And flowers put forth a fairer hue,
+    And everything was strange and new;
+    The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here,
+    And their dogs outran our fallow deer,
+    And honey-bees had lost their stings,
+    And horses were born with eagles' wings:
+    And just as I became assured
+    My lame foot would be speedily cured,
+    The music stopped and I stood still,
+    And found myself outside the hill,
+    Left alone against my will,
+    To go now limping as before;
+    And never hear of that country more!"
+
+    XIV.
+
+    Alas, alas for Hamelin!
+    There came into many a burgher's pate
+    A text which says that heaven's gate
+    Opes to the rich at as easy rate
+    As the needle's eye takes a camel in!
+    The Mayor sent East, West, North and South,
+    To offer the Piper, by word of mouth,
+    Wherever it was man's lot to find him,
+    Silver and gold to his heart's content,
+    If he'd only return the way he went,
+    And bring the children behind him.
+    But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor,
+    And Piper and dancers were gone forever,
+    They made a decree that lawyers never
+    Should think their records dated duly
+    If, after the day of the month and year,
+    These words did not as well appear:
+    "And so long after what happened here
+    On the twenty-second of July,
+    Thirteen hundred and seventy-six:"
+    And the better in memory to fix
+    The place of the children's last retreat,
+    They called it the Pied Piper's Street--
+    Where any one playing on pipe or tabor
+    Was sure for the future to lose his labor.
+    Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern
+    To shock with mirth a street so solemn;
+    But opposite the place of the cavern
+    They wrote the story on a column,
+    And on the great church-window painted
+    The same, to make the world acquainted
+    How their children were stolen away,
+    And there it stands to this very day.
+    And I must not omit to say
+    That in Transylvania there's a tribe
+    Of alien people that ascribe
+    The outlandish ways and dress
+    On which their neighbors lay such stress,
+    To their fathers and mothers having risen
+    Out of some subterraneous prison
+    Into which they were trepanned
+    Long time ago in a mighty band
+    Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land,
+    But how or why, they don't understand.
+
+    XV.
+
+    So, Willy, let me and you be wipers
+    Of scores out with all men--especially pipers!
+    And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice,
+    If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise!
+
+
+
+
+A Girl Graduate.
+
+BY CYNTHIA BARNARD.
+
+I.
+
+
+It was examination week at Mount Seward College, but most of the work
+was over, and the students were waiting in the usual fever of anxiety to
+learn the verdict on their papers, representing so much toil and pains.
+Some of the girls were nearly as much concerned about their graduating
+gowns as about their diplomas, but as independence was in the air at
+Mount Seward, these rather frivolous girls were in the minority. During
+term time most of the students wore the regulation cap and gown, and
+partly owing to the fact that Mount Seward was a college with traditions
+of plain living and high thinking behind it, and partly because the
+youngest and best-loved professor was a woman of rare and noble
+characteristics, a woman who had set her own stamp on her pupils, and
+furnished them an ideal, dress and fashion were secondary considerations
+here. There were no low emulations at Mount Seward.
+
+A group of girls in a bay-window over-looking the campus were discussing
+the coming commencement. From various rooms came the steady, patient
+sound of pianos played for practice. On the green lawn in front of the
+president's cottage two or three intellectual looking professors and
+tutors walked up and down, evidently discussing an affair that
+interested them.
+
+The postman strolled over the campus wearily, as who should say, "This
+is my last round, and the bag is abominably heavy."
+
+He disappeared within a side door, and presently there was a hurrying
+and scurrying of fresh-faced young women, bright-eyed and blooming under
+the mortar-caps, jauntily perched over their braids and ringlets,
+rushing toward that objective point, the college post-office. One would
+have fancied that letters came very seldom, to see their excitement.
+
+Margaret Lee received two letters. She did not open either in the
+presence of her friends, but went with a swift step and a heightened
+color to her own suite of rooms. Two small alcoves, curtained off from a
+pleasant little central sitting-room, composed the apartment Margaret
+shared with her four years' chum Alice Raynor. Alice was not there, yet
+Margaret did not seat herself in the room common to both, but entered
+her own alcove, drew the portiere, and sat down on the edge of the iron
+bed, not larger than a soldier's camp cot. It was an austere little
+cell, simple as a nun's, with the light falling from one narrow window
+on the pale face and brown hair of the young girl, to whom the unopened
+letters in her hand signified so much.
+
+Which should she read first? One, in a large square envelope, addressed
+in a bold, business-like hand, bore a Western postmark, and had the
+printed order to return, if not delivered in ten days, to Hilox
+University, Colorado. The other, in a cramped, old-fashioned hand, bore
+the postmark of a hamlet in West Virginia. It was a thin letter,
+evidently belonging to the genus domestic correspondence, a letter from
+Margaret's home.
+
+Which should she open first? There was an evident struggle, and a
+perceptible hesitation. Then she laid the home letter resolutely down on
+the pillow of her bed, and, with a hair-pin, that woman's tool which
+suits so many uses, delicately and dexterously cut the envelope of the
+letter from Hilox. It began formally, and was very brief:
+
+     "MY DEAR MISS LEE:--The trustees and faculty of Hilox
+     University have been looking for a woman, a recent graduate of
+     distinction from some well-established Eastern college, to take the
+     chair of Greek in our new institution. You have been recommended as
+     thoroughly qualified for the position. The salary is not at present
+     large, but our university is growing, and we offer a tempting
+     field to an energetic and ambitious woman. May we write you more
+     fully on the subject, if you are inclined to take our vacancy into
+     your favorable consideration?
+
+                                        "Very respectfully yours."
+
+Then followed the signature of the president of Hilox, a man whose name
+and fame were familiar to Margaret Lee.
+
+The girl's cheek glowed; her dark eyes deepened; a look of power and
+purpose settled upon the sweet full lips. For this she had studied
+relentlessly; to this end she had looked; with this in view her four
+years' course had been pursued with pluck and determination. The picture
+of Joanna Baker, as young as herself, climbing easily to the topmost
+round of the ladder, had fired and stimulated _her_, and she had allowed
+it to be known that her life was dedicated to learning, and by-and-by to
+teaching.
+
+All the faculty at Mount Seward knew her aspirations, and several of the
+professors had promised their aid in securing her a position, but she
+had not expected anything of this kind so soon.
+
+Why, her diploma would not be hers until next week! Surely there must be
+some benignant angel at work in her behalf. But--Hilox? Had she ever met
+any one from Hilox?
+
+Suddenly the light went out of the ardent face, and a frown crinkled the
+smooth fairness of her brow. This, then, _he_ had dared to do!
+
+Memory recalled an episode two years back, and half-forgotten. Margaret
+had been spending her vacation at home in the West Virginia mountains,
+and a man had fallen in love with her. There was nothing remarkable in
+this, for a beautiful girl of seventeen, graceful, dignified,
+accomplished, and enthusiastic, is a very lovable creature. A visiting
+stranger in the village, the minister's cousin, had been much at her
+father's house, had walked and boated with her, and shared her rides
+over the hills, both on sure-footed mountain ponies. As a friend
+Margaret had liked Dr. Angus, as a comrade had found him delightful, but
+her heart had not been touched. What had she, with her Greek
+professorate looming up like a star in mid-heaven before her--what had
+she to do with love and a lover? She had managed to make Dr. Angus know
+this before he had quite committed himself by a proposal; but she had
+understood what was in his thought, and she knew that he knew that she
+knew all about it. And Dr. Angus had remained and settled down as a
+practitioner in the little mountain town. The town had a future before
+it, for two railroads were already projected to cross it, and there were
+coal mines in the neighborhood, and, altogether, a man might do worse
+than drive his roots into this soil. She had heard now and then of Dr.
+Angus since that summer--her last vacation had been passed with cousins
+in New England--and he was said to be courting a Mrs. Murray, a rich and
+charming neighbor of her father's.
+
+Dr. Angus had friends in Colorado. Now she remembered he had a relative
+who had helped to found Hilox, and had endowed a chair of languages or
+literature; she was not certain which. So it must be to _him_ she was
+indebted, and, oddly, she was more indignant than grateful. The natural
+intervention of a friendly hand in the matter took all the satisfaction
+out of her surprise.
+
+Not that she loved Dr. Angus! But she did not choose to be under an
+obligation to him. What girl would in the circumstances?
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+All this time the letter from home lay overlooked on the pillow. If it
+could have spoken it would have reproached the daughter for her
+absorption in its companion, but it bided its time. Presently Margaret
+turned with a start, saw it, felt a remorseful stab, and tore it open,
+without the aid of a hair-pin.
+
+This is what the home letter had to say. It was from Margaret's father,
+and as he seldom wrote to her, leaving, as many men do, the bulk of
+correspondence with absent members of the family to be the care of his
+wife and children, she felt a premonitory thrill.
+
+The Lees were a very affectionate and devoted household, clannish to a
+degree, and undemonstrative, as mountaineers often are. The deep well of
+their love did not foam and ripple like a brook, but the water was
+always there, to draw upon at will. "The shallows murmur, but the deeps
+are dumb." It was so in the house of Duncan Lee.
+
+     "MY DEAR DAUGHTER MARGARET" (the letter began),--"I hope
+     these lines will find you well, and your examination crowned with
+     success. We have thought and talked of you much lately, and wished
+     we could be with you to see you when you are graduated. Mother
+     would have been so glad to go, but it is my sad duty to inform you
+     that she is not well. Do not be anxious, Margaret. There is no
+     immediate danger, but your dear mother has been more or less ailing
+     ever since last March, and she does not get better. We fear there
+     will have to be a surgical operation--perhaps more than one. She
+     may have to live, as people sometimes do, for years with a knife
+     always over her head. We want you to come home, Margaret, as soon
+     as you can. I enclose a check for all expenses, and I will see that
+     you are met at the railway terminus, so you need not take the long
+     stage-ride all by yourself. But I am afraid I have not broken it to
+     you gently, my dear, as mother said I must. Forgive me; I am just
+     breaking my heart in these days, and I need you as much almost as
+     your mother does.
+
+                                  "Your loving father, "DUNCAN LEE."
+
+A vision rose before Margaret, as with tear-blurred eyes she folded her
+father's letter and replaced it in its cover. She brushed the tears away
+and looked at the date. Four days ago the letter had been posted. Her
+home, an old homestead in a valley that nestled deep and sweet in the
+heart of the grand mountain range, guarding it on every side, rose
+before her. She saw her father, grizzled, stooping-shouldered,
+care-worn, old-fashioned in dress, precise in manner, a gentleman of the
+old school, a man who had never had much money, but who had sent his
+five sons and his one daughter to college, giving them, what the Lees
+prized most in life, a liberal education. She saw her mother, thin,
+fair, tall, with the golden hair that would fade but would never turn
+gray, the blue child-like eyes, the wistful mouth.
+
+"Mother!" she gasped, "mother!"
+
+The horror of the malady that had seized on the beautiful, dainty,
+lovely woman, so like a princess in her bearing, so notable in her
+housewifery, so neighborly, so maternal, swept over her in a hot tide,
+retreated, leaving her shivering.
+
+"I must go home," she said, "and at once!" With feet that seemed to her
+weighted with lead she went straight to the room of the Dean, knowing
+that in that gracious woman's spirit there would be instant
+comprehension, and that she would receive wise advice.
+
+"My dear!" said the Dean, "you have heard from Hilox, haven't you? We
+are so proud of you; we want you to represent our college and our
+culture there. It is a magnificent opportunity, Margaret."
+
+The Dean was very short-sighted, and she did not catch at first the look
+on Margaret's face.
+
+"Yes," she answered, in a voice that sounded muffled and lifeless, "I
+have heard from Hilox; I had almost forgotten, but I must answer the
+letter. Dear Mrs. Wade, I have heard from home, too. My mother is very
+ill, and she needs me. I must go at once--to-morrow morning. I cannot
+wait for Commencement."
+
+The Dean asked for further information. Then she urged that Margaret
+should wait over the annual great occasion; so much was due the college,
+she thought, and she pointed out the fact that Mr. Lee had not asked her
+to leave until the exercises were over.
+
+But Margaret had only one reply: "My mother needs me; I must go!"
+
+A week later, at sunset, the old lumbering stage, rolling over the steep
+hills and the smooth dales drew up at Margaret's home. Tired, but with a
+steadfast light in her eyes, the girl stepped down, received her
+father's kiss, and went straight to her mother, waiting in the doorway.
+
+"I am glad--glad you have come, my darling!" said the mother. "While you
+are here I can give everything up. But, my love, this is not what we
+planned!"
+
+"No, my dearest," said the girl, "but that is of no consequence. I wish
+I had known sooner how much, how very much, I was wanted at home!"
+
+"But you will not be a Professor of Greek!" said the mother that night.
+It was all arranged for the operation, which was to take place in a
+week's time, the surgeons to come from the nearest town. The mother was
+brave, gay, heroic. Margaret looked at her, wondering that one under the
+shadow of death could laugh and talk so brightly.
+
+"No. I will be something better," she said, tenderly. "I will be your
+nurse, your comfort if I can. If I had only known, there are many things
+better than Greek that I might have learned!"
+
+Hilox did not get its Greek professor, but the culture of Mount Seward
+was not wasted. Mrs. Lee lived years, often in anguish unspeakable,
+relieved by intervals of peace and freedom from pain. The daughter
+became almost the mother in their intercourse as time passed, and the
+bloom on her cheek paled sooner than on her mother's in the depth of
+her sympathy. But the end came at last, and the suffering life went out
+with a soft sigh, as a child falls asleep.
+
+On a little shelf in Margaret's room her old text-books, seldom opened,
+are souvenirs of her busy life at college. Her hand has learned the
+cunning which concocts dainty dishes and lucent jellies; her
+housekeeping and her hospitality are famous. She is a bright talker,
+witty, charming, with the soft inflections which make the vibrant
+tunefulness of the Virginian woman's voice so tender and sweet a thing
+in the ear. Mount Seward is to her the Mecca of memory. If ever she has
+a daughter she will send her there, and--who knows?--that girl may be
+professor at Hilox.
+
+For though Margaret is not absent from her own household, she is not
+long to be Margaret Lee. The wedding-cake is made, and is growing rich
+and firm as it awaits the day when the bride will cut it. The
+wedding-gown is ordered. Dr. Angus has proposed at last; he had never
+thought of wooing or winning any one except the fair girl who caught his
+fancy and his heart ten years ago, and when Margaret next visits her New
+England relations it will be to present her husband.
+
+The professor, who had been her most dearly beloved friend during those
+happy college days, her confidante and model, said to one who recalled
+Margaret Lee and spoke of her as "a great disappointment, my dear:"
+
+"Yes, we expected her to make a reputation for herself and Mount Seward.
+She has done better. She has been enabled to do her duty in the station
+to which it has pleased God to call her--a good thing for any girl
+graduate, it seems to me."
+
+
+
+
+    A Christmas Frolic.
+
+    BY MRS. M.E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+    We had gone to the forest for holly and pine,
+      And gathered our arms full of cedar,
+    And home we came skipping, our garlands to twine,
+      With Marcus, the bold, for our leader.
+
+    The dear Mother said we might fix up the place,
+      And ask all the friends to a party;
+    So joy, you may fancy, illumined each face
+      And our manners were cordial and hearty.
+
+    But whom should we have? There were Sally and Fred,
+      And Martha and Luke and Leander;
+    There was Jack, a small boy with a frowsy red head,
+      And the look of an old salamander.
+
+    There was Dickie, who went to a college up town,
+      And Archie, who worked for the neighbors;
+    There were Timothy Parsons and Anthony Brown,
+      Old fellows, of street-cleaning labors.
+
+    And then sister had friends like the lilies so fair,
+      Sweet girls with white hands and soft glances;
+    At a frolic of ours these girls must be there,
+      Dear Mildred and Gladys and Frances.
+
+    At Christmas, my darlings, leave nobody out,
+      'Tis the feast of the dear Elder Brother,
+    Who came to this world to bring freedom about,
+      And whose motto is "Love one another."
+
+    When the angels proclaimed Him in Judea's sky
+      They sang out His wonderful story,
+    And peace and good will did they bring from on high,
+      And the keystone of all laid with glory.
+
+    A frolic at Christmas must needs know not change
+      Of fortune, or richer or poorer;
+    If any one comes who is lonesome and strange,
+      Why, just make his welcome the surer.
+
+    We invited our friends and we dressed up the room
+      Till it looked like a wonderful bower,
+    With starry bright tapers, and flowers in bloom,
+      And a tree with white popcorn a-shower.
+
+    And presents and presents, for every one there,
+      In stockings, and bags full of candy,
+    And old Santa Claus (Uncle William) was fair,
+      And--I tell you, our tree was a dandy.
+
+    Then, when nine o'clock struck, and the frolic and fun
+      Had risen almost to their highest,
+    And pleasure was beaming, and every one
+      Was happy, from bravest to shyest.
+
+    Our dear Mother went to the organ and played
+      A carol so sweet and so tender;
+    We prayed while we sang, and we sang as we prayed,
+      To Jesus, our Prince and Defender.
+
+    Oh! Jesus, who came as a Babe to the earth,
+      Who slept 'mid the kine, in a manger;
+    Oh! Jesus, our Lord, in whose heavenly birth
+      Is pledge of our ransom from danger.
+
+    Strong Son of the Father, divine from of old,
+      And Son of the race, child of woman;
+    Increasing in might as the ages unfold,
+      Redeemer, our God, and yet human.
+
+    We sang to His Name, and we stood in a band,
+      Each pledged for the Master wholly,
+    To work heart to heart, and to work hand to hand,
+      In behalf of the outcast and lowly.
+
+    Then we said "Merry Christmas" once more and we went
+      Away from the holly and cedar,
+    And home we all scattered, quite glad and content,
+      And henceforward our Lord is our Leader.
+
+
+
+Archie's Vacation.
+
+BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.
+
+
+"Papa has come," shouted Archie Conwood, as he rushed down stairs two
+steps at a time, with his sisters Minnie and Katy following close
+behind, and mamma bringing up the rear. Papa had been to Cousin
+Faraton's to see if he could engage summer board for the family.
+
+Cousin Faraton lived in a pleasant village about a hundred miles distant
+from the city in which Mr. and Mrs. Conwood were living. They had agreed
+that to board with him would insure a pleasant vacation for all.
+
+Papa brought a good report. Everything had been favorably arranged.
+
+"And what do you think!" he asked, in concluding his narrative. "Cousin
+Faraton has persuaded me to buy a bicycle for you, Archie. He thought it
+would be quite delightful for you and your Cousin Samuel to ride about
+on their fine roads together. So I stopped and ordered one on my way
+home."
+
+"Oh, you dear, good papa?" exclaimed Archie, "do let me give you a hug."
+
+"Are you sure it's healthful exercise?" asked Mrs. Conwood, rather
+timidly. After the way of mothers, she was anxious for the health of
+her son.
+
+"Nothing could be better, if taken in moderation," Mr. Conwood
+positively replied, thus setting his wife's fears at rest.
+
+The order for the bicycle was promptly filled, and Archie had some
+opportunity of using it before going to the country. When the day for
+leaving town arrived, he was naturally more interested in the safe
+carrying of what he called his "machine" than in anything else connected
+with the journey.
+
+He succeeded in taking it to Cousin Faraton's uninjured, and was much
+pleased to find that it met with the entire approbation of Samuel, whose
+opinion, as he was two years older than himself, was considered most
+important.
+
+The two boys immediately planned a short excursion for the following
+day, and obtained the consent of their parents.
+
+Breakfast next morning was scarcely over when they made their start. The
+sunshine was bright, the sky was cloudless; they were well and strong.
+Everything promised the pleasantest sort of a day. Yet, alas! for all
+human hopes. Who can tell what sudden disappointment a moment may bring?
+
+The cousins had just disappeared from view of the group assembled on the
+piazza to see them start, when Samuel came back in breathless haste,
+exclaiming:
+
+"Archie has fallen, and I think he's hurt."
+
+The two fathers ran at full speed to the spot where Archie was, and
+found him pale and almost fainting by the roadside. They picked him up
+and carried him tenderly back to the house, while Samuel hurried off for
+the village doctor. Fortunately he found him in his carriage about
+setting forth on his morning round and quite ready to drive at a rapid
+rate to the scene of the accident.
+
+The first thing to be done was to administer a restorative, for Archie
+had had a severe shock. The next thing was an examination, which
+resulted in the announcement of a broken leg.
+
+Surely there was an end to all plans for a pleasant vacation.
+
+The doctor might be kind, sympathetic and skillful, as indeed he was.
+The other children might unite in trying to entertain their injured
+playfellow. They might bring him flowers without number, and relate to
+him their various adventures, and read him their most interesting
+story-books--all this they did. Mother might be tireless in her
+devotion, trying day and night to make him forget the pain--what mother
+would not have done all in her power?
+
+Still there was no escape from the actual suffering, no relief from the
+long six weeks' imprisonment; while outside the birds were singing and
+the summer breezes playing in ever so many delightful places that might
+have been visited had it not been for that broken leg.
+
+Archie tried to be brave and cheerful, and to conceal from every one the
+tears which would sometimes force their way to his eyes.
+
+He endeavored to interest himself in the amusements which were within
+his reach, and he succeeded admirably. Yet the fact remained that he was
+having a sadly tedious vacation.
+
+The kind-hearted doctor often entertained him by telling of his
+experiences while surgeon in a hospital during the war.
+
+"Do you know," he said one day in the midst of a story, "that the men
+who had been bravest on the field of battle were most patient in bearing
+suffering? They showed what we call fortitude, and bravery and fortitude
+go hand in hand."
+
+This was an encouraging thought to Archie, for he resolved to show that
+he could endure suffering as well as any soldier. Another thing that
+helped him very much was the fact, of which his mother reminded him,
+that by trying to be patient he was doing what he could, to please the
+Lord Jesus.
+
+"It was He," she said, "who allowed this trial to come to you, because
+He saw that through it you might grow to be a better and a nobler boy.
+And you will be growing better every day by simply trying to be
+patient, as I see you do."
+
+"I want to be, mamma," Archie answered; "and there's another thing about
+this broken leg, I think it will teach me to care more when other people
+are sick."
+
+"No doubt it will, Archie, and if you learn to exercise patience and
+sympathy, your vacation will not be lost, after all."
+
+
+
+
+A Birthday Story.
+
+BY MRS. M.E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+Jack Hillyard turned over in his hand the few bits of silver which he
+had taken from his little tin savings-bank. There were not very many of
+them, a ten cent piece, a quarter, half a dollar and an old silver
+six-pence. And he had been saving them up a long, long time.
+
+"Well," said Jack to himself, soberly, "there aren't enough to buy
+mother a silk dress, but I think I'll ask Cousin Susy, if she won't
+spend my money and get up a birthday party for the darling little
+mother. A birthday cake, with, let me see, thirty-six candles, that'll
+be a lot, three rows deep, and a big bunch of flowers, and a book.
+Mother's never had a birthday party that I remember. She's always been
+so awfully busy working hard for us, and so awfully tired when night
+came, but I mean her to have one now, or my name's not Jack."
+
+Away went Jack to consult Cousin Susy.
+
+He found her very much occupied with her dressmaking, for she made new
+gowns and capes for all the ladies in town, and she was finishing up
+Miss Kitty Hardy's wedding outfit. With her mouth full of pins, Cousin
+Susy could not talk, but her brown eyes beamed on Jack as she listened
+to his plan. At last she took all the pins out of her mouth, and said:
+
+"Leave it all to me, Jack. We'll give her a surprise party; I'll see
+about everything, dear. Whom shall we ask?"
+
+"When thou makest a dinner or a supper," said Jack, repeating his golden
+text of the last Sunday's lesson, "call not thy friends, nor thy
+kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbors, lest they also bid thee again and a
+recompense be made thee. But when thou makest a feast, call the poor,
+the maimed, the lame, the blind, and thou shalt be blessed, for they
+cannot recompense thee."
+
+"Jack! Jack! Jack!" exclaimed Cousin Susy.
+
+"I was only repeating my last golden text," answered Jack. "We don't
+often have to give a feast, and as it was so extraordinary," said Jack,
+saying the big word impressively, "I thought of my verse. I suppose we'd
+better ask the people mother likes, and they are the poor, the halt, the
+blind, and the deaf; for we haven't any rich neighbors, nor any kinsmen,
+except you, dear Cousin Susy."
+
+"Well, I'm a kinswoman and a neighbor, dear, but I'm not rich. Now, let
+me see," said Miss Susy, smoothing out the shining white folds of Kitty
+Hardy's train. "We will send notes, and you must write them. There is
+old Ralph, the peddler, who is too deaf to hear if you shout at him ever
+and ever so much, but he'll enjoy seeing a good time; and we'll have
+Florrie Maynard, with her crutches and her banjo, and she'll have a
+happy time and sing for us; and Mrs. Maloney, the laundress, with her
+blind Patsy. I don't see Jackie, but you'll have a Scripture party after
+all. Run along and write your letters, and to-night we'll trot around
+and deliver them."
+
+This was the letter Jack wrote:
+
+     "DEAR FRIEND:--My mother's going to have a birthday next
+     Saturday night, and she'll be thirty-six years old. That's pretty
+     old. So I'm going to give her a surprise birthday party, and Cousin
+     Susy's helping me with the surprise. Please come and help too, at
+     eight o'clock sharp.
+
+                          "Yours truly,
+                                                            "JACK."
+
+When this note was received everybody decided to go, and, which Jack did
+not expect, everybody decided to take a present along.
+
+"You'll spend all my money, won't you?" said Jack.
+
+"Certainly, my boy, I will, every penny. Except, perhaps, the old silver
+sixpence. Suppose we give that to the mother as a keepsake?"
+
+"Very well, you know best. All I want is that she shall have a good
+time, a very good time. She's such a good mother."
+
+"Jack," said Susy, "you make me think of some verses I saw in a book
+the other day. Let me read them to you." And Cousin Susy, who had a way
+of copying favorite poems and keeping them, fished out this one from her
+basket:
+
+    LITTLE HANS.
+
+    Little Hans was helping mother
+      Carry home the lady's basket;
+    Chubby hands of course were lifting
+      One great handle--can you ask it?
+    As he tugged away beside her,
+      Feeling oh! so brave and strong,
+    Little Hans was softly singing
+      To himself a little song:
+
+    "Some time I'll be tall as father,
+      Though I think it's very funny,
+    And I'll work and build big houses,
+      And give mother all the money,
+    For," and little Hans stopped singing,
+      Feeling oh! so strong and grand,
+    "I have got the sweetest mother
+      You can find in all the land."
+
+Now, some people couldn't do very much with the funds at Cousin Susy's
+disposal, but she could, and when Jack's money was spent for
+refreshments what do you think they had? Why, a great big pan of
+gingerbread, all marked out in squares with the knife, and raisins in
+it; and a round loaf of cup cake, frosted over with sugar, with
+thirty-six tiny tapers all ready to light, and a pitcher of lemonade, a
+plate of apples, and a big platter of popped corn.
+
+Jack danced for joy, but softly, for mother had come home from her day's
+work and was tired, and the party was to be a surprise, and she was not
+to be allowed to step into the little square parlor.
+
+That parlor was the pride of Jack and his mother. It had a bright rag
+carpet, a table with a marble top, six chairs, and a stool called an
+ottoman. On the wall between the windows hung a framed picture of Jack's
+dear father, who was in heaven, and over the mantelpiece there was a
+framed bouquet of flowers, embroidered by Jack's mother on white satin,
+when she had been a girl at school.
+
+"Seems to me, Jack," said Mrs. Hillyard as she sat down in the kitchen
+to her cup of tea, "there is a smell of fresh gingerbread; I wonder
+who's having company."
+
+Jack almost bit his tongue trying not to laugh.
+
+"Oh!" said he grandly, "gingerbread isn't anything, mamma. When I'm a
+man you shall have pound-cake every day for breakfast."
+
+By and by Mrs. Maloney and Patsy dropped in.
+
+"I thought," said Mrs. Maloney, "it was kind o'lonesome-like at home,
+and I'd step in and see you and Jack to-night, ma'am."
+
+"That was very kind," replied Mrs. Hillyard.
+
+"Why, here comes Mr. Ralph," she added. "Well the more the merrier!"
+
+Tap, tap, tap.
+
+The neighbors kept coming, and coming, and Jack grew more and more
+excited, till at last when all were present, Cousin Susy, opening the
+parlor door, displayed the marble-top of the table covered with a white
+cloth, and there were the refreshments.
+
+"A happy birthday, mother."
+
+"Many returns."
+
+"May you live a hundred years."
+
+One and another had some kind word to say, and each gave a present, a
+card, or a flower, or a trifle of some sort, but with so much good will
+and love that Mrs. Hillyard's face beamed. All day she stood behind a
+counter in a great big shop, and worked hard for her bread and Jack's,
+but when evening came she was a queen at home with her boy and her
+friends to pay her honor.
+
+"And were you surprised, and did you like the cake and the thirty-six
+candles, dearest, darling mamma?" said Jack, when everybody had gone
+home.
+
+"Yes, my own manly little laddie, I liked everything, and I was never so
+surprised in my life." So the birthday party was a great success.
+
+
+
+
+    A Coquette.
+
+    BY AMY PIERCE.
+
+
+    I am never in doubt of her goodness,
+      I am always afraid of her mood,
+    I am never quite sure of her temper,
+      For wilfulness runs in her blood.
+    She is sweet with the sweetness of springtime--
+      A tear and a smile in an hour--
+    Yet I ask not release from her slightest caprice,
+      My love with the face of a flower.
+
+    My love with the grace of the lily
+      That sways on its slender fair stem,
+    My love with the bloom of the rosebud,
+      White pearl in my life's diadem!
+    You may call her coquette if it please you,
+      Enchanting, if shy or if bold,
+    Is my darling, my winsome wee lassie,
+      Whose birthdays are three, when all told.
+
+
+
+
+    Horatius.[1]
+
+    _A Lay Made About the Year of the City CCCLX._
+
+    By T.B. MACAULAY.
+
+
+    I.
+
+    Lars Porsena of Clusium
+      By the Nine Gods he swore
+    That the great house of Tarquin
+      Should suffer wrong no more.
+    By the Nine Gods he swore it,
+      And named a trysting-day,
+    And bade his messengers ride forth,
+    East and west, and south and north,
+      To summon his array.
+
+    II.
+
+    East and west, and south and north,
+      The messengers ride fast,
+    And tower and town and cottage
+      Have heard the trumpet's blast.
+    Shame on the false Etruscan
+      Who lingers in his home,
+    When Porsena of Clusium
+      Is on the march for Rome!
+
+    III.
+
+    The horsemen and the footmen
+      Are pouring in amain,
+    From many a stately market-place,
+      From many a fruitful plain;
+    From many a lonely hamlet,
+      Which, hid by beech and pine,
+    Like an eagle's nest, hangs on the crest
+      Of purple Apennine;
+
+    IV.
+
+    From lordly Volaterrae,
+      Where scowls the far-famed hold
+    Piled by the hands of giants
+      For godlike kings of old;
+    From sea-girt Populonia,
+      Whose sentinels descry
+    Sardinia's snowy mountain-tops
+      Fringing the southern sky;
+
+    V.
+
+    From the proud mart of Pisae,
+      Queen of the western waves,
+    Where ride Massilia's triremes
+      Heavy with fair-haired slaves;
+    From where sweet Clanis wanders
+      Through corn and vines and flowers;
+    From where Cortona lifts to heaven
+      Her diadem of towers.
+
+    VI.
+
+    Tall are the oaks whose acorns
+      Drop in dark Auser's rill;
+    Fat are the stags that champ the boughs
+      Of the Ciminian hill;
+    Beyond all streams Clitumnus
+      Is to the herdsman dear;
+    Best of all pools the fowler loves
+      The great Volsinian mere.
+
+    VII.
+
+    But now no stroke of woodman
+      Is heard by Auser's rill;
+    No hunter tracks the stag's green path
+      Up the Ciminian hill;
+    Unwatched along Clitumnus
+      Grazes the milk-white steer;
+    Unharmed the water-fowl may dip
+      In the Volsinian mere.
+
+    VIII.
+
+    The harvests of Arretium
+      This year old men shall reap;
+    This year young boys in Umbro
+      Shall plunge the struggling sheep;
+    And in the vats of Luna
+      This year the must shall foam
+    Round the white feet of laughing girls
+      Whose sires have marched to Rome.
+
+    IX.
+
+    There be thirty chosen prophets,
+      The wisest of the land,
+    Who always by Lars Porsena
+      Both morn and evening stand;
+    Evening and morn the Thirty
+      Have turned the verses o'er,
+    Traced from the right on linen white
+      By mighty seers of yore.
+
+    X.
+
+    And with one voice the Thirty
+      Have their glad answer given:
+    "Go forth, go forth, Lars Porsena;
+      Go forth, beloved of Heaven:
+    Go, and return in glory
+      To Clusium's royal dome,
+    And hang round Nurscia's altars
+      The golden shields of Rome."
+
+    XI.
+
+    And now hath every city
+      Sent up her tale of men;
+    The foot are fourscore thousand,
+      The horse are thousands ten.
+    Before the gates of Sutrium
+      Is met the great array.
+    A proud man was Lars Porsena
+      Upon the trysting-day.
+
+    XII.
+
+    For all the Etruscan armies
+      Were ranged beneath his eye,
+    And many a banished Roman,
+      And many a stout ally;
+    And with a mighty following
+      To join the muster came
+    The Tusculan Mamilius,
+      Prince of the Latian name.
+
+    XIII.
+
+    But by the yellow Tiber
+      Was tumult and affright:
+    From all the spacious champaign
+      To Rome men took their flight.
+    A mile around the city
+      The throng stopped up the ways;
+    A fearful sight it was to see
+      Through two long nights and days.
+
+    XIV.
+
+    For aged folk on crutches,
+      And women great with child,
+    And mothers sobbing over babes
+      That clung to them and smiled;
+    And sick men borne in litters
+      High on the necks of slaves,
+    And troops of sunburnt husbandmen
+      With reaping-hooks and staves;
+
+    XV.
+
+    And droves of mules and asses
+      Laden with skins of wine,
+    And endless flocks of goats and sheep,
+      And endless herds of kine,
+    And endless trains of wagons
+      That creaked beneath the weight
+    Of corn-sacks and of household goods,
+      Choked every roaring gate.
+
+    XVI.
+
+    Now, from the rock Tarpeian,
+      Could the wan burghers spy
+    The line of blazing villages
+      Red in the midnight sky,
+    The Fathers of the City,
+      They sat all night and day,
+    For every hour some horseman came
+      With tidings of dismay.
+
+    XVII.
+
+    To eastward and to westward
+      Have spread the Tuscan bands;
+    Nor house nor fence nor dovecot
+      In Crustumerium stands.
+    Verbenna down to Ostia
+      Hath wasted all the plain;
+    Astur hath stormed Janiculum,
+      And the stout guards are slain.
+
+    XVIII.
+
+    I wis, in all the Senate,
+      There was no heart so bold
+    But sore it ached and fast it beat
+      When that ill news was told.
+    Forthwith up rose the Consul,
+      Up rose the Fathers all;
+    In haste they girded up their gowns
+      And hied them to the wall.
+
+    XIX.
+
+    They held a council standing
+      Before the River Gate;
+    Short time was there, ye well may guess,
+      For musing or debate.
+    Out spake the Consul roundly,
+      "The bridge must straight go down,
+    For, since Janiculum is lost,
+      Naught else can save the town."
+
+    XX.
+
+    Just then a scout came flying,
+      All wild with haste and fear:
+    "To arms! to arms! Sir Consul;
+      Lars Porsena is here!"
+    On the low hills to westward
+      The Consul fixed his eye,
+    And saw the swarthy storm of dust
+      Rise fast along the sky.
+
+    XXI.
+
+    And nearer fast, and nearer,
+      Doth the red whirlwind come;
+    And louder still, and still more loud,
+    From underneath that rolling cloud,
+    Is heard the trumpet's war-note proud,
+      The trampling and the hum.
+    And plainly and more plainly
+      Now through the gloom appears,
+    Far to left and far to right,
+    In broken gleams of dark-blue light,
+    The long array of helmets bright,
+      The long array of spears.
+
+    XXII.
+
+    And plainly and more plainly,
+      Above that glimmering line,
+    Now might ye see the banners
+      Of twelve fair cities shine;
+    But the banner of proud Clusium
+      Was highest of them all,
+    The terror of the Umbrian,
+      The terror of the Gaul.
+
+    XXIII.
+
+    And plainly and more plainly.
+      Now might the burghers know,
+    By port and vest, by horse and crest,
+      Each warlike Lucumo.
+    There Cilnius of Arretium
+      On his fleet roan was seen;
+    And Astur of the fourfold shield,
+    Girt with the brand none else may wield,
+    Tolumnius with the belt of gold,
+    And dark Verbenna from the hold
+      By reedy Thrasymene.
+
+    XXIV.
+
+    Fast by the royal standard,
+      O'erlooking all the war,
+    Lars Porsena of Clusium
+      Sat in his ivory car.
+    By the right wheel rode Mamilius,
+      Prince of the Latian name;
+    And by the left false Sextus,
+      That wrought the deed of shame.
+
+    XXV.
+
+    But when the face of Sextus
+      Was seen among the foes,
+    A yell that rent the firmament
+      From all the town arose.
+    On the house-tops was no woman
+      But spat toward him and hissed,
+    No child but screamed out curses
+      And shook its little fist.
+
+    XXVI.
+
+    But the Consul's brow was sad,
+      And the Consul's speech was low,
+    And darkly looked he at the wall,
+      And darkly at the foe.
+    "Their van will be upon us
+      Before the bridge goes down;
+    And if they once may win the bridge
+      What hope to save the town?"
+
+    XXVII.
+
+    Then out spake brave Horatius,
+      The Captain of the Gate:
+    "To every man upon this earth
+      Death cometh soon or late.
+    And how can man die better
+      Than facing fearful odds,
+    For the ashes of his fathers
+      And the temples of his gods.
+
+    XXVIII.
+
+    "And for the tender mother
+      Who dandled him to rest,
+    And for the wife who nurses
+      His baby at her breast,
+    And for the holy maidens
+      Who feed the eternal flame,
+    To save them from false Sextus
+      That wrought the deed of shame?
+
+    XXIX.
+
+    "Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,
+      With all the speed ye may;
+    I, with two more to help me,
+      Will hold the foe in play.
+    In yon strait path a thousand
+      May well be stopped by three.
+    Now who will stand on either hand,
+      And keep the bridge with me?"
+
+    XXX.
+
+    Then out spake Spurius Lartius,
+      A Ramnian proud was he:
+    "Lo, I will stand at thy right hand
+      And keep the bridge with thee."
+    And out spake strong Herminius,
+      Of Titian blood was he:
+    "I will abide on thy left side,
+      And keep the bridge with thee."
+
+    XXXI.
+
+    "Horatius," quoth the Consul,
+      "As thou sayest, so let it be."
+    And straight against that great array
+      Forth went the dauntless Three.
+    For Romans in Rome's quarrel
+      Spared neither land nor gold,
+    Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life,
+      In the brave days of old.
+
+    XXXII.
+
+    Then none was for a party;
+      Then all were for the State;
+    Then the great man helped the poor,
+      And the poor man loved the great;
+    Then lands were fairly portioned;
+      Then spoils were fairly sold;
+    The Romans were like brothers
+      In the brave days of old.
+
+    XXXIII.
+
+    Now Roman is to Roman
+      More hateful than a foe;
+    And the Tribunes beard the high,
+      And the Fathers grind the low.
+    As we wax hot in faction,
+      In battle we wax cold;
+    Wherefore men fight not as they fought
+      In the brave days of old.
+
+    XXXIV.
+
+    Now while the Three were tightening
+      Their harness on their backs,
+    The Consul was the foremost man
+      To take in hand an axe;
+    And Fathers mixed with Commons
+      Seized hatchet, bar, and crow,
+    And smote upon the planks above,
+      And loosed the props below.
+
+    XXXV.
+
+    Meanwhile the Tuscan army,
+      Right glorious to behold,
+    Came flashing back the noonday light,
+    Rank behind rank, like surges bright
+      Of a broad sea of gold.
+    Four hundred trumpets sounded
+      A peal of warlike glee,
+    As that great host, with measured tread,
+    And spears advanced, and ensigns spread,
+    Rolled slowly toward the bridge's head,
+      Where stood the dauntless Three.
+
+    XXXVI.
+
+    The Three stood calm and silent
+      And looked upon the foes,
+    And a great shout of laughter
+      From all the vanguard rose;
+    And forth three chiefs came spurring
+      Before that deep array:
+    To earth they sprang, their swords they drew,
+    And lifted high their shields, and flew
+      To win the narrow way.
+
+    XXXVII.
+
+    Aunus from green Tifernum,
+      Lord of the Hill of Vines;
+    And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves
+      Sicken in Ilva's mines;
+    And Picus, long to Clusium
+      Vassal in peace and war,
+    Who led to fight his Umbrian powers
+    From that gray crag where, girt with towers,
+    The fortress of Nequinum lowers
+      O'er the pale waves of Nar.
+
+    XXXVIII.
+
+    Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus
+      Into the stream beneath;
+    Herminius struck at Seius,
+      And clove him to the teeth;
+    At Picus brave Horatius
+      Darted one fiery thrust,
+    And the proud Umbrian's gilded arms
+      Clashed in the bloody dust.
+
+    XXXIX.
+
+    Then Ocnus of Falerii
+      Rushed on the Roman Three;
+    And Lausulus of Urgo,
+      The rover of the sea;
+    And Aruns of Volsinium,
+      Who slew the great wild boar,
+    The great wild boar that had his den
+    Amidst the reeds of Cosa's fen,
+    And wasted fields and slaughtered men
+      Along Albinia's shore.
+
+    XL.
+
+    Herminius smote down Aruns;
+      Lartius laid Ocnus low;
+    Right to the heart of Lausulus
+      Horatius sent a blow.
+    "Lie there," he cried, "fell pirate!
+      No more, aghast and pale,
+    From Ostia's walls the crowd shall mark
+    The track of thy destroying bark.
+    No more Campania's hinds shall fly
+    To woods and caverns when they spy
+      Thy thrice accursed sail."
+
+    XLI.
+
+    But now no sound of laughter
+      Was heard among the foes;
+    A wild and wrathful clamor
+      From all the vanguard rose.
+    Six spears' length from the entrance
+      Halted that deep array,
+    And for a space no man came forth
+      To win the narrow way.
+
+    XLII.
+
+    But hark! the cry is Astur;
+      And lo! the ranks divide,
+    And the great Lord of Luna
+      Comes with his stately stride.
+    Upon his ample shoulders
+      Clangs loud the fourfold shield,
+    And in his hand he shakes the brand
+      Which none but he can wield.
+
+    XLIII.
+
+    He smiled on those bold Romans
+      A smile serene and high;
+    He eyed the flinching Tuscans,
+      And scorn was in his eye.
+    Quoth he, "The she-wolf's litter
+      Stand savagely at bay;
+    But will ye dare to follow,
+      If Astur clears the way?"
+
+    XLIV.
+
+    Then, whirling up his broadsword
+      With both hands to the height,
+    He rushed against Horatius,
+      And smote with all his might.
+    With shield and blade Horatius
+      Right deftly turned the blow.
+    The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh;
+    It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh;
+    The Tuscans raised a joyful cry
+      To see the red blood flow.
+
+    XLV.
+
+    He reeled and on Herminius
+      He leaned one breathing-space,
+    Then, like a wild cat mad with wounds,
+      Sprang right at Astur's face.
+    Through teeth and skull and helmet
+      So fierce a thrust he sped,
+    The good sword stood a hand-breadth out
+      Behind the Tuscan's head.
+
+    XLVI.
+
+    And the great Lord of Luna
+      Fell at that deadly stroke,
+    As falls on Mount Alvernus
+      A thunder-smitten oak.
+    Far o'er the crashing forest
+      The giant arms lie spread;
+    And the pale augurs, muttering low,
+      Gaze on the blasted head.
+
+    XLVII.
+
+    On Astur's throat Horatius
+      Right firmly pressed his heel,
+    And thrice and four times tugged amain
+      Ere he wrenched out the steel.
+    "And see," he cried, "the welcome,
+      Fair guests that wait you here!
+    What noble Lucumo comes next
+      To taste our Roman cheer?"
+
+    XLVIII.
+
+    But at his haughty challenge
+      A sullen murmur ran,
+    Mingled of wrath and shame and dread,
+      Along that glittering van.
+    There lacked not men of prowess,
+      Nor men of lordly race;
+    For all Etruria's noblest
+      Were round the fatal place.
+
+    XLIX.
+
+    But all Etruria's noblest
+      Felt their hearts sink to see
+    On the earth the bloody corpses,
+      In the path of the dauntless Three;
+    And, from the ghastly entrance
+      Where those bold Romans stood,
+    All shrank, like boys who, unaware,
+    Ranging the woods to start a hare,
+    Come to the mouth of the dark lair
+    Where, growling low, a fierce old bear
+      Lies amidst bones and blood.
+
+    L.
+
+    Was none who would be foremost
+      To lead such dire attack;
+    But those behind cried "Forward!"
+       And those before cried "Back!"
+    And backward now and forward
+      Wavers the deep array;
+    And on the tossing sea of steel
+    To and fro the standards reel,
+    And the victorious trumpet-peal
+      Dies fitfully away.
+
+    LI.
+
+    Yet one man for one moment
+       Strode out before the crowd;
+    Well known was he to all the Three,
+       And they gave him greeting loud.
+    "Now welcome, welcome, Sextus!
+      Now welcome to thy home!
+    Why dost thou stay and turn away?
+      Here lies the road to Rome."
+
+    LII.
+
+    Thrice looked he at the city,
+      Thrice looked he at the dead;
+    And thrice came on in fury,
+      And thrice turned back in dread;
+    And, white with fear and hatred,
+      Scowled at the narrow way
+    Where, wallowing in a pool of blood,
+      The bravest Tuscans lay.
+
+    LIII.
+
+    But meanwhile axe and lever
+      Have manfully been plied,
+    And now the bridge hangs tottering
+      Above the boiling tide.
+    "Come back, come back, Horatius!"
+      Loud cried the Fathers all.
+    "Back, Lartius! back, Herminius!
+      Back, ere the ruin fall!"
+
+    LIV.
+
+    Back darted Spurius Lartius,
+      Herminius darted back;
+    And, as they passed, beneath their feet
+      They felt the timbers crack.
+    But when they turned their faces,
+      And on the farther shore
+    Saw brave Horatius stand alone,
+      They would have crossed once more.
+
+    LV.
+
+    But with a crash like thunder
+      Fell every loosened beam,
+    And, like a dam, the mighty wreck
+      Lay right athwart the stream;
+    And a long shout of triumph
+      Rose from the walls of Rome,
+    As to the highest turret tops
+      Was splashed the yellow foam.
+
+    LVI.
+
+    And, like a horse unbroken
+      When first he feels the rein,
+    The furious river struggled hard,
+      And tossed his tawny mane,
+    And burst the curb and bounded,
+      Rejoicing to be free,
+    And, whirling down in fierce career
+    Battlement and plank and pier,
+      Rushed headlong to the sea.
+
+    LVII.
+
+    Alone stood brave Horatius,
+      But constant still in mind,
+    Thrice thirty thousand foes before
+      And the broad flood behind.
+    "Down with him!" cried false Sextus,
+      With a smile on his pale face.
+    "Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena,
+      "Now yield thee to our grace."
+
+    LVIII.
+
+    Round turned he, as not deigning
+      Those craven ranks to see;
+    Naught spake he to Lars Porsena,
+      To Sextus naught spake he;
+    But he saw on Palatinus
+      The white porch of his home,
+    And he spake to the noble river
+      That rolls by the towers of Rome:
+
+    LIX.
+
+    "O Tiber! father Tiber!
+      To whom the Romans pray,
+    A Roman's life, a Roman's arms,
+      Take thou in charge this day!"
+    So he spake, and speaking sheathed
+      The good sword by his side,
+    And with his harness on his back
+      Plunged headlong in the tide.
+
+    LX.
+
+    No sound of joy or sorrow
+      Was heard from either bank,
+    But friends and foes in dumb surprise,
+    With parted lips and straining eyes,
+      Stood gazing where he sank;
+    And when above the surges
+      They saw his crest appear,
+    All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry,
+    And even the ranks of Tuscany
+      Could scarce forbear to cheer.
+
+    LXI.
+
+    But fiercely ran the current,
+      Swollen high by months of rain;
+    And fast his blood was flowing,
+     And he was sore in pain,
+    And heavy with his armor,
+      And spent with changing blows;
+    And oft they thought him sinking,
+      But still again he rose.
+
+    LXII.
+
+    Never, I ween, did swimmer,
+      In such an evil case,
+    Struggle through such a raging flood
+      Safe to the landing-place;
+    But his limbs were borne up bravely
+      By the brave heart within,
+    And our good father Tiber
+      Bore bravely up his chin.
+
+    LXIII.
+
+    "Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus;
+      "Will not the villain drown?
+    But for this stay, ere close of day,
+      We should have sacked the town!"
+    "Heaven help him!" quoth Lars Porsena,
+      "And bring him safe to shore;
+    For such a gallant feat of arms
+      Was never seen before."
+
+    LXIV.
+
+    And now he feels the bottom;
+      Now on dry earth he stands;
+    Now round him throng the Fathers
+      To press his gory hands;
+    And now, with shouts and clapping
+      And noise of weeping loud,
+    He enters through the River Gate,
+      Borne by the joyous crowd.
+
+    LXV.
+
+    They gave him of the corn-land,
+      That was of public right,
+    As much as two strong oxen
+      Could plow from morn till night;
+    And they made a molten image
+      And set it up on high,
+    And there it stands unto this day
+      To witness if I lie.
+
+    LXVI.
+
+    It stands in the Comitium,
+      Plain for all folk to see,
+    Horatius in his harness
+      Halting upon one knee;
+    And underneath is written,
+      In letters all of gold,
+    How valiantly he kept the bridge
+      In the brave days of old.
+
+    LXVII.
+
+    And still his name sounds stirring
+      Unto the men of Rome,
+    As the trumpet-blast that cries to them
+      To charge the Volscian home;
+    And wives still pray to Juno
+      For boys with hearts as bold
+    As his who kept the bridge so well
+      In the brave days of old.
+
+    LXVIII.
+
+    And in the nights of winter,
+      When the cold north winds blow,
+    And the long howling of the wolves
+      Is heard amidst the snow;
+    When round the lonely cottage
+      Roars loud the tempest's din,
+    And the good logs of Algidus
+      Roar louder yet within;
+
+    LXIX.
+
+    When the oldest cask is opened,
+      And the largest lamp is lit;
+    When the chestnuts glow in the embers,
+      And the kid turns on the spit;
+    When young and old in circle
+      Around the firebrands close;
+    When the girls are weaving baskets,
+      And the lads are shaping bows;
+
+    LXX.
+
+    When the goodman mends his armor,
+      And trims his helmet's plume;
+    When the goodwife's shuttle merrily
+      Goes flashing through the loom;
+    With weeping and with laughter
+      Still is the story told,
+    How well Horatius kept the bridge
+      In the brave days of old.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 1: Lord Macaulay's ballad should be known by heart by every
+schoolboy. It is the finest of the famous "Lays of Ancient Rome."]
+
+
+
+
+A Bit of Brightness.
+
+BY MARY JOANNA PORTER.
+
+
+It not only rained, but it poured; so the brightness was certainly not
+in the sky. It was Sunday, too, and that fact, so Phoebe thought,
+added to the gloominess of the storm. For Phoebe had left behind her
+the years in which she had been young and strong, and in which she had
+no need to regard the weather. Now if she went out in the rain she was
+sure to suffer afterward with rheumatism, so, of course, a day like this
+made her a prisoner within doors. There she had not very much to occupy
+her. She and her husband, Gardener Jim, lived so simply that it was a
+small matter to prepare and clear away their meals, and, that being
+attended to, what was there for her to do?
+
+Phoebe had never been much of a scholar, and reading even the
+coarse-print Bible, seemed to try her eyes. Knitting on Sunday was not
+to be thought of, and there was nobody passing by to be watched and
+criticised. Altogether Phoebe considered it a very dreary day.
+
+As for Gardener Jim, he had his pipe to comfort him. All the same he
+heaved a sigh now and then, as if to say, "O dear! I wish things were
+not quite so dull."
+
+In the big house near by lived Jim's employer, Mr. Stevens. There
+matters were livelier, for there were living five healthy, happy
+children, whose mother scarcely knew the meaning of the word quiet. When
+it drew near two o'clock in the afternoon they were all begging to be
+allowed to go to Sunday-school.
+
+"You'll let me go, won't you, ma?" cried Jessie, the oldest, and Tommy
+and Nellie and Johnny and even baby Clara echoed the petition. Mrs.
+Stevens thought the thing over and decided that Jessie and Tommy might
+go. For the others, she would have Sunday-school at home.
+
+"Be sure to put on your high rubbers and your water-proofs and take
+umbrellas." These were the mother's instructions as the two left the
+family sitting-room. A few moments after, Jessie looked in again. "Well,
+you are wrapped up!" exclaimed Mrs. Stevens, "I don't think the storm
+can hurt you." "Neither do I, ma, and Oh! I forgot to ask you before,
+may we stop at Gardener Jim's on the way home?"
+
+"Yes, if you'll be careful not to make any trouble for him and Phoebe,
+and will come home before supper-time."
+
+Tommy, who was standing behind Jessie in the doorway, suppressed the
+hurrah that rose to his lips. He remembered that it was Sunday and that
+his mother would not approve of his making a great noise on the holy
+day.
+
+He and Jessie had quite a hard tramp to the little chapel in which the
+school was held. The graveled sidewalks were covered with that
+uncomfortable mixture of snow and water known as slush, which beside
+being wet was cold and slippery, so that walking was no easy thing. Yet
+what did that matter after they had reached the school?
+
+Their teachers were there, and so was the superintendent, and so were
+nearly half of the scholars. Theirs was a wide-awake school, you see,
+and it did not close on account of weather.
+
+Each of the girls in Jessie's class was asked to recite a verse that she
+had chosen through the week. Jessie's was this:
+
+"To do good and to communicate forget not, for with such sacrifices God
+is well pleased."
+
+The teacher talked a little about it and Jessie thought it over on her
+way to Gardener Jim's. The result was that she said to her brother:
+
+"Tommy, you know mother said we must not trouble Jim and Phoebe."
+
+"Yes, I know it, but I don't think we will, do you?"
+
+"No, I'm sure they'll be glad to see us, but I was thinking we might do
+something to make them very glad. Suppose that while we're in there, I
+read to them from the Bible, and then we sing to them two or three of
+our hymns."
+
+"What a queer girl you are, Jess! Anybody would think that you were a
+minister going to hold church in the cottage. But I'm agreed, if you
+want to; I like singing anyway. It seems to let off a little of the 'go'
+in a fellow."
+
+By this time they had reached the cottage, and if they had been a prince
+and princess--supposing that such titled personages were living in these
+United States--they could not have had a warmer welcome. Gardener Jim
+opened the door in such haste that he scattered the ashes from his pipe
+over the rag-carpet on the floor. Phoebe, too, contrived to drop her
+spectacles while she was saying "How do you do," and it took at least
+three minutes to find them again.
+
+At length, however, the surprise being over, the children removed their
+wraps, Jim refilled his pipe, and Phoebe settled herself in her chair.
+She was slowly revolving in her mind the question whether it would be
+best to offer her visitors a lunch of cookies or one of apples, when
+Jessie said:
+
+"Phoebe, wouldn't you like to have me read you a chapter or two?"
+
+"'Deed and I would, miss, and I'd be that grateful that I couldn't
+express myself. My eyes, you see, are getting old, and Jim's not much
+better, and neither of us was ever a scholard."
+
+So Jessie read in her sweet, clear voice the chapters beloved in palace
+and in cottage, about the holy city New Jerusalem, and about the pure
+river of water of life, clear as crystal; about the tree whose leaves
+are for the healing of the nations; about the place where they need no
+candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light;
+and they shall reign for ever and ever.
+
+"Dear me, dear me!" exclaimed Phoebe, "it seems almost like being
+there, doesn't it? Now I'll have something to think of to-night if I lie
+awake with the rheumatism."
+
+"We're going to sing to you, too," was Tommy's rejoinder.
+
+Then he and Jessie sang "It's coming, coming nearer, that lovely land
+unseen," and "O, think of the home over there" and Phoebe's favorite:
+
+    "In the far better land of glory and light
+    The ransomed are singing in garments of white,
+    The harpers are harping and all the bright train
+    Sing the song of redemption, the Lamb that was slain."
+
+Jim wiped his eyes as they finished. He and Phoebe had once had a
+little boy and girl, but both had long, long been in the "better land."
+Yet though he wept it was in gladness, for the reading and singing had
+seemed to open a window through which he might look into the streets of
+the heavenly city.
+
+Thus Tommy and Jessie had brought sunshine to the cottage on that rainy
+Sunday afternoon. They had given the cup of cold water--surely they had
+their reward.
+
+
+
+
+How Sammy Earned the Prize.
+
+BY MRS. M.E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+"And now," said the Principal, looking keenly and pleasantly through his
+spectacles, "I have another prize offer to announce. Besides the prizes
+for the best scholarship, and the best drawing and painting, and for
+punctuality, I am authorized by the Trustees of this Academy to offer a
+prize for valor. Fifty dollars in gold will be given the student who
+shows the most courage and bravery during the next six months."
+
+Fifty dollars in gold! The sum sounded immense in the ears of the boys,
+not one of whom had ever had five dollars for his very own at one time,
+that is in one lump sum. As they went home one and another wondered
+where the chance to show true courage was to come in their prosaic
+lives.
+
+"It isn't the time when knights go round to rescue forlorn ladies and do
+brave deeds," said Johnny Smith, ruefully.
+
+"No, and there never are any fires in Scott-town, or mad dogs, or
+anything," added Billy Thorne.
+
+"But Sammy Slocum said nothing at all," Billy told his mother. "Old
+Sammy's a bit of a coward. He faints when he sees blood. Of course he
+knows he can't get the prize for valor, or any prize for that matter.
+His mother has to take in washing."
+
+"William," said Billy's father, who had just entered, "that is a very
+un-American way of speaking. If I were dead and buried your mother might
+have to take in washing, and it would do her no discredit. Honest work
+is honest work. Sammy is a very straight sort of boy. He's been helping
+at the store Saturday mornings, and I like the boy. He's got pluck."
+
+"Six months give a fellow time to turn round, any way," said Billy, as
+the family sat down to supper.
+
+It was September when this conversation took place, and it was December
+before the teachers, who were watching the boys' daily records very
+carefully, had the least idea who would get the prize for valor.
+
+"Perhaps we cannot award it this year," said the Principal. "Fifty
+dollars should not be thrown away, nor a prize really bestowed on
+anybody who has not merited it."
+
+"There are chances for heroism in the simplest and most humble life,"
+answered little Miss Riggs, the composition teacher.
+
+That December was awfully cold. Storm and wind and snow. Blizzard and
+gale and hurricane. You never saw anything like it. In the middle of
+December the sexton was taken down with rheumatic fever, and there
+wasn't a soul to ring the bell, or clear away the snow, or keep fires
+going in the church, and not a man in the parish was willing to take the
+extra work upon him. The old sexton was a good deal worried, for he
+needed the little salary so much that he couldn't bear to give it up,
+and in that village church there was no money to spare.
+
+Sammy's mother sent bowls and pitchers of gruel and other things of the
+sort to the sick man, and when Sammy took them he heard the talk of the
+sexton and his wife. One night he came home, saying:
+
+"Mother, I've made a bargain with Mr. Anderson, I'm going to be the
+sexton of the church for the next three months."
+
+"You, my boy, you're not strong enough. It's hard work shoveling snow
+and breaking paths, and ringing the bell, and having the church warm on
+Sunday, and the lamps filled and lighted. And you have your chores to do
+at home."
+
+"Yes, dear mammy, I'll manage; I'll go round and get the clothes for
+you, and carry them home and do every single thing, just the same as
+ever, and I'll try to keep Mr. Anderson's place for him too."
+
+"I don't know that I ought to let you," said his mother.
+
+But she did consent.
+
+Then began Sammy's trial. He never had a moment to play. Other boys
+could go skating on Saturday, but he had to stay around the church, and
+dust and sweep, and put the cushions down in the pews, and see that the
+old stoves were all right, as to dampers and draughts, bring coal up
+from the cellar, have wood split, lamps filled, wicks cut, chimneys
+polished. The big bell was hard to ring, hard for a fourteen-year-old
+boy. At first, for the fun of it, some of the other boys helped him pull
+the rope, but their enthusiasm soon cooled. Day in, day out, the stocky,
+sturdy form of Samuel might be seen, manfully plodding through all
+varieties of weather, and he had a good-morning or a good-evening ready
+for all he met. When he learned his lessons was a puzzle, but learn them
+he did, and nobody could complain that in anything he fell off, though
+his face did sometimes wear a preoccupied look, and his mother said that
+at night he slept like the dead and she just hated to have to call him
+in the morning. Through December and January and February and March,
+Sammy made as good a sexton as the church had ever had, and by April,
+Mr. Anderson was well again.
+
+The queer thing about it all was that Sammy had forgotten the prize for
+valor altogether. Nothing was said about it in school, and most of the
+boys were so busy looking out for brave deeds to come their way, that
+if one had appeared, they would not have recognized it. In fact,
+everybody thought the prize for valor was going by the board.
+
+Till July came. And then, when the visitors were there, and the prizes
+were all given out, the President looked keenly through his spectacles
+and said:
+
+"Will Master Samuel Slocum step forward to the platform?"
+
+Modestly blushing, up rose Sammy, and somewhat awkwardly he made his way
+to the front.
+
+"Last winter," said the President, "there was a boy who not only did his
+whole duty in our midst, but denied himself for another, undertook hard
+work for many weeks, without pay and without shirking. We all know his
+name. Here he stands. To Samuel Slocum the committee award the prize for
+valor."
+
+He put five shining ten-dollar pieces into Sammy's hard brown hand.
+
+
+
+
+    The Glorious Fourth.
+
+
+    Hurrah for the Fourth, the glorious Fourth,
+      The day we all love best,
+    When East and West and South and North,
+      No boy takes breath or rest.
+    When the banners float and the bugles blow,
+      And drums are on the street,
+    Throbbing and thrilling, and fifes are shrilling,
+      And there's tread of marching feet.
+
+    Hurrah for the nation's proudest day,
+      The day that made us free!
+    Let our cheers ring out in a jubilant shout
+      Far over land and sea.
+    Hurrah for the flag on the school-house roof,
+      Hurrah for the white church spire!
+    For the homes we love, and the tools we wield,
+      And the light of the household fire.
+
+    Hurrah, hurrah for the Fourth of July,
+      The day we love and prize,
+    When there's wonderful light on this fair green earth,
+      And beautiful light in the skies.
+
+
+
+
+The Middle Daughter.
+
+BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+AT THE MANSE.
+
+
+"I am troubled and low in my mind," said our mother, looking pensively
+out of the window. "I am really extremely anxious about the
+Wainwrights."
+
+It was a dull and very chilly day in the late autumn. Fog hid the hills;
+wet leaves soaked into the soft ground; the trees dripped with moisture;
+every little while down came the rain, now a pour, then a drizzle--a
+depressing sort of day.
+
+Our village of Highland, in the Ramapo, is perfectly enchanting in clear
+brilliant weather, and turn where you will, you catch a fine view of
+mountain, or valley, or brown stream, or tumbling cascade. On a snowy
+winter day it is divine; but in the fall, when there is mist hanging its
+gray pall over the landscape, or there are dark low-hanging clouds with
+steady pouring rain, the weather, it must be owned, is depressing in
+Highland. That is, if one cares about weather. Some people always rise
+above it, which is the better way.
+
+I must explain mamma's interest in the Wainwrights. They are our dear
+friends, but not our neighbors, as they were before Dr. Wainwright went
+to live at Wishing-Brae, which was a family place left him by his
+brother; rather a tumble-down old place, but big, and with fields and
+meadows around it, and a great rambling garden. The Wainwrights were
+expecting their middle daughter, Grace, home from abroad.
+
+Few people in Highland have ever been abroad; New York, or Chicago, or
+Omaha, or Denver is far enough away for most of us. But Grace
+Wainwright, when she was ten, had been borrowed by a childless uncle and
+aunt, who wanted to adopt her, and begged Dr. Wainwright, who had seven
+children and hardly any money, to give them one child on whom they could
+spend their heaps of money. But no, the doctor and Mrs. Wainwright
+wouldn't hear of anything except a loan, and so Grace had been lent, in
+all, eight years; seven she had spent at school, and one in Paris,
+Berlin, Florence, Venice, Rome, the Alps. Think of it, how splendid and
+charming!
+
+Uncle Ralph and Aunt Hattie did not like to give her up now, but Grace,
+we heard, would come. She wanted to see her mother and her own kin;
+maybe she felt she ought.
+
+At the Manse we had just finished prayers. Papa was going to his study.
+He wore his Friday-morning face--a sort of preoccupied pucker between
+his eyebrows, and a far-away look in his eyes. Friday is the day he
+finishes up his sermons for Sunday, and, as a matter of course, we never
+expect him to be delayed or bothered by our little concerns till he has
+them off his mind. Sermons in our house have the right of way.
+
+Prayers had been shorter than usual this morning, and we had sung only
+two stanzas of the hymn, instead of four or five. Usually if mamma is
+anxious about anybody or anything, papa is all sympathy and attention.
+But not on a Friday. He paid no heed either to her tone or her words,
+but only said impressively:
+
+"My love, please do not allow me to be disturbed in any way you can
+avoid between this and the luncheon hour; and keep the house as quiet as
+you can. I dislike being troublesome, but I've had so many interruptions
+this week; what with illness in the congregation, and funerals, and
+meetings every night, my work for Sunday is not advanced very far.
+Children, I rely on you all to help me," and with a patient smile, and a
+little wave of the hand quite characteristic, papa withdrew.
+
+We heard him moving about in his study, which was over the sitting-room,
+and then there came a scrape of his chair upon the floor, and a
+creaking sound as he settled into it by the table. Papa was safely out
+of the way for the next four or five hours. I would have to be a
+watchdog to keep knocks from his door.
+
+"I should think," said Amy, pertly, tossing her curls, "that when papa
+has so much to do he'd just go and do it, not stand here talking and
+wasting time. It's the same thing week after week. Such a martyr."
+
+"Amy," said mamma, severely, "don't speak of your father in that
+flippant manner. Why are _you_ lounging here so idly? Gather up the
+books, put this room in order, and then, with Laura's assistance, I
+would like you this morning to clean the china closet. Every cup and
+saucer and plate must be taken down and wiped separately, after being
+dipped into hot soap-suds and rinsed in hot water; the shelves all
+washed and dried, and the corners carefully gone over. See how thorough
+you can be, my dears," said mamma in her sweetest tones. I wondered
+whether she had known that Amy had planned to spend the rainy morning
+finishing the hand-screen she is painting for grandmother's birthday.
+From her looks nothing could be gathered. Mamma's blue eyes can look as
+unconscious of intention as a child's when she chooses to reprove, and
+yet does not wish to seem censorious. Amy is fifteen, and very
+headstrong, as indeed we all are, but even Amy never dreams of hinting
+that she would like to do something else than what mamma prefers when
+mamma arranges things in her quiet yet masterful fashion. Dear little
+mamma. All her daughters except Jessie are taller than herself; but
+mother is queen of the Manse, nevertheless.
+
+Amy went off, having with a few deft touches set the library in order,
+piling the Bibles and hymn books on the little stand in the corner, and
+giving a pat here and a pull there to the cushions, rugs, and curtains,
+went pleasantly to begin her hated task of going over the china closet.
+Laura followed her.
+
+Elbert, our seventeen-year-old brother, politely held open the door for
+the girls to pass through.
+
+"You see, Amy dear," he said, compassionately, "what comes on reflecting
+upon papa. It takes some people a long while to learn wisdom."
+
+Amy made a little _moue_ at him.
+
+"I don't mind particularly," she said. "Come, Lole, when a thing's to be
+done, the best way is to do it and not fuss nor fret. I ought not to
+have said that; I knew it would vex dear mamma; but papa provokes me so
+with his solemn directions, as if the whole house did not always hold
+its breath when he is in the study. Come, Lole, let's do this work as
+well as we can." Amy's sunshiny disposition matches her quick temper.
+She may say a quick word on the impulse of the moment, but she makes up
+for it afterward by her loving ways.
+
+"It isn't the week for doing this closet, Amy," said Laura. "Why didn't
+you tell mamma so? You wanted to paint in your roses and clematis before
+noon, didn't you? I think it mean. Things are so contrary," and Laura
+sighed.
+
+"Oh, never mind, dear! this won't be to do next week. I think mamma was
+displeased and spoke hastily. Mamma and I are so much alike that we
+understand one another. I suppose I am just the kind of girl she used to
+be, and I hope I'll be the kind of woman she is when I grow up. I'm
+imitating mother all I can."
+
+Laura laughed. "Well, Amy, you'd never be so popular in your husband's
+congregation as mamma is--never. You haven't so much tact; I don't
+believe you'll ever have it, either."
+
+"I haven't yet, of course; but I'd have more tact if I were a grown-up
+lady and married to a clergyman. I don't think, though, I'll ever marry
+a minister," said Amy, with grave determination, handing down a
+beautiful salad-bowl, which Laura received in both hands with the
+reverence due to a treasured possession. "It's the prettiest thing we
+own," said Amy, feeling the smooth satiny surface lovingly, and holding
+it up against her pink cheek. "Isn't it scrumptious, Laura?"
+
+"Well," said Laura, "it's nice, but not so pretty as the tea-things
+which belonged to Great-aunt Judith. They are my pride. This does not
+compare."
+
+"Well, perhaps not in one way, for they are family pieces, and prove we
+came out of the ark. But the salad-bowl is a beauty. I don't object to
+the care of china myself. It is ladies' work. It surprises me that
+people ever are willing to trust their delicate china to clumsy maids. I
+wouldn't if I had gems and gold like a princess, instead of being only
+the daughter of a poor country clergyman. I'd always wash my own nice
+dishes with my own fair hands."
+
+"That shows your Southern breeding," said Laura. "Southern women always
+look after their china and do a good deal of the dainty part of the
+housekeeping. Mamma learned that when she was a little girl living in
+Richmond."
+
+"'Tisn't only Southern breeding," said Amy. "Our Holland-Dutch ancestors
+had the same elegant ways of taking care of their property. I'm writing
+a paper on 'Dutch Housewifery' for the next meeting of the
+Granddaughters of the Revolution, and you'll find out a good many
+interesting points if you listen to it."
+
+"Amy Raeburn!" exclaimed Laura, admiringly, "I expect you'll write a
+book one of these days."
+
+"I certainly intend to," replied Amy, with dignity, handing down a fat
+Dutch cream-jug, and at the moment incautiously jarring the step-ladder,
+so that, cream-jug and all, she fell to the floor. Fortunately the
+precious pitcher escaped injury; but Amy's sleeve caught on a nail, and
+as she jerked it away in her fall it loosened a shelf and down crashed a
+whole pile of the second-best dinner plates, making a terrific noise,
+which startled the whole house.
+
+Papa, in his study, groaned, and probably tore in two a closely written
+sheet of notes. Mamma and the girls came flying in. Amy picked herself
+up from the floor; there was a great red bruise and a scratch on her
+arm.
+
+"Oh, you poor child!" said mother, gauging the extent of the accident
+with a rapid glance. "Never mind," she said, relieved; "there isn't much
+harm done. Those are the plates the Ladies' Aid Society in Archertown
+gave me the year Frances was born. I never admired them. When some
+things go they carry a little piece of my heart with them, but I don't
+mind losing donation china. Are you hurt, Amy?"
+
+"A bruise and a scratch--nothing to signify. Here comes Lole with the
+arnica. I don't care in the least since I haven't wrecked any of our
+Colonial heirlooms. Isn't it fortunate, mother, that we haven't broken
+or lost anything _this_ congregation has bestowed?"
+
+"Yes, indeed," said mamma, gravely. "There, gather up the pieces, and
+get them out of the way before we have a caller."
+
+In the Manse callers may be looked for at every possible time and
+season, and some of them have eyes in the backs of their heads. For
+instance, Miss Florence Frick or Mrs. Elbridge Geary seems to be able to
+see through closed doors. And there is Mrs. Cyril Bannington Barnes, who
+thinks us all so extravagant, and does not hesitate to notice how often
+we wear our best gowns, and wonders to our faces where mamma's last
+winter's new furs came from, and is very much astonished and quite angry
+that papa should insist on sending all his boys to college. But, there,
+this story isn't going to be a talk about papa's people. Mamma wouldn't
+approve of that, I am sure.
+
+Everybody sat down comfortably in the dining-room, while Frances and
+Mildred took hold and helped Amy and Laura finish the closet. Everybody
+meant mamma, Mildred, Frances, Elbert, Lawrence, Sammy and Jessie.
+Somehow, a downright rainy day in autumn, with a bit of a blaze on the
+hearth, makes you feel like dropping into talk and staying in one place,
+and discussing eventful things, such as Grace Wainwright's return, and
+what her effect would be on her family, and what effect they would have
+on her.
+
+"I really do not think Grace is in the very least bit prepared for the
+life she is coming to," said Frances.
+
+"No," said mamma, "I fear not. But she is coming to her duty, and one
+can always do that."
+
+"For my part," said Elbert, "I see nothing so much amiss at the
+Wainwrights. They're a jolly set, and go when you will, you find them
+having good times. Of course they are in straitened circumstances."
+
+"And Grace has been accustomed to lavish expenditure," said Mildred.
+
+"If she had remained in Paris, with her Uncle Ralph and Aunt Gertrude
+she would have escaped a good deal of hardship," said Lawrence.
+
+"Oh," mamma broke in, impatiently, "how short-sighted you young people
+are! You look at everything from your own point of view. It is not of
+Grace I am thinking so much. I am considering her mother and the girls
+and her poor, worn-out father. I couldn't sleep last night, thinking of
+the Wainwrights. Mildred, you might send over a nut-cake and some soft
+custard and a glass of jelly, when it stops raining, and the last number
+of the "Christian Herald" and of "Harper's Monthly" might be slipped
+into the basket, too--that is, if you have all done with it. Papa and I
+have finished reading the serial and we will not want it again. There's
+so much to read in this house."
+
+"I'll attend to it, mamma," said Mildred. "Now what can I do to help you
+before I go to my French lesson."
+
+"Nothing, you sweetest of dears," said mother, tenderly. Mildred was her
+great favorite, and nobody was jealous, for we all adored our tall, fair
+sister.
+
+So we scattered to our different occupations and did not meet again till
+luncheon was announced.
+
+Does somebody ask which of the minister's eight children is telling this
+story? If you must know, I am Frances, and what I did not myself see was
+all told to me at the time it happened and put down in my journal.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+AT WISHING-BRAE.
+
+
+Grace Wainwright, a slender girl, in a trim tailor-made gown, stepped
+off the train at Highland Station. She was pretty and distinguished
+looking. Nobody would have passed her without observing that. Her four
+trunks and a hat-box had been swung down to the platform by the
+baggage-master, and the few passengers who, so late in the fall, stopped
+at this little out-of-the-way station in the hills had all tramped
+homeward through the rain, or been picked up by waiting conveyances.
+There was no one to meet Grace, and it made her feel homesick and
+lonely. As she stood alone on the rough unpainted boardwalk in front of
+the passenger-room a sense of desolation crept into the very marrow of
+her bones. She couldn't understand it, this indifference on the part of
+her family. The ticket agent came out and was about to lock the door. He
+was going home to his mid-day dinner.
+
+"I am Grace Wainwright," she said, appealing to him. "Do you not suppose
+some one is coming to meet me?"
+
+"Oh, you be Dr. Wainwright's darter that's been to foreign parts, be
+you? Waal, miss, the doctor he can't come because he's been sent for to
+set Mr. Stone's brother's child's arm that he broke jumping over a
+fence, running away from a snake. But I guess somebody'll be along soon.
+Like enough your folks depended on Mr. Burden; he drives a stage, and
+reckons to meet passengers, and take up trunks, but he's sort o'
+half-baked, and he's afraid to bring his old horse out when it
+rains--'fraid it'll catch the rheumatiz. You better step over to my
+house 'long o' me; somebody'll be here in the course of an hour."
+
+Grace's face flushed. It took all her pride to keep back a rush of
+angry, hurt tears. To give up Paris, and Uncle Ralph and Aunt Hattie,
+and her winter of music and art, and come to the woods and be treated in
+this way! She was amazed and indignant. But her native good sense showed
+her there was, there must be, some reason for what looked like neglect.
+Then came a tender thought of mamma. She wouldn't treat her thus.
+
+"Did a telegram from me reach Dr. Wainwright last evening?" Grace
+inquired, presently.
+
+The agent fidgeted and looked confused. Then he said coolly: "That
+explains the whole situation now. A dispatch did come, and I calc'lated
+to send it up to Wishin'-Brae by somebody passing, but nobody came along
+goin' in that direction, and I clean forgot it. Its too bad; but you
+step right over to my house and take a bite. There'll be a chance to
+get you home some time to-day."
+
+At this instant, "Is this Grace Wainwright?" exclaimed a sweet, clear
+voice, and two arms were thrown lovingly around the tired girl. "I am
+Mildred Raeburn, and this is Lawrence, my brother. We were going over to
+your house, and may we take you? I was on an errand there for mamma.
+Your people didn't know just when to look for you, dear, not hearing
+definitely, but we all supposed you would come on the five o'clock
+train. Mr. Slocum, please see that Miss Wainwright's trunks are put
+under cover till Burden's express can be sent for them." Mildred stepped
+into the carryall after Grace, giving her another loving hug.
+
+"Mildred, how dear of you to happen here at just the right moment, like
+an angel of light! You always did that. I remember when we were little
+things at school. It is ages since I was here, but nothing has changed."
+
+"Nothing ever changes in Highland, Grace. I am sorry you see it again
+for the first on this wet and dismal day. But to-morrow will be
+beautiful, I am sure."
+
+"Lawrence, you have grown out of my recollection," said Grace. "But
+we'll soon renew our acquaintance. I met your chum at Harvard, Edward
+Gerald at Geneva, and he drove with our party to Paris." Then, turning
+to Mildred, "My mother is no better, is she? Dear, patient mother! I've
+been away too long."
+
+"She is no better," replied Mildred, gently, "but then she is no worse.
+Mrs. Wainwright will be so happy when she has her middle girl by her
+side again. She's never gloomy, though. It's wonderful."
+
+They drove on silently. Mildred took keen notice of every detail of
+Grace's dress--the blue cloth gown and jacket, simple but modish, with
+an air no Highland dressmaker could achieve, for who on earth out of
+Paris can make anything so perfect as a Paris gown, in which a pretty
+girl is sure to look like a dream? The little toque on the small head
+was perched over braids of smooth brown hair, the gloves and boots were
+well-fitting, and Grace Wainwright carried herself finely. This was a
+girl who could walk ten miles on a stretch, ride a wheel or a horse at
+pleasure, drive, play tennis or golf, or do whatever else a girl of the
+period can. She was both strong and lovely, one saw that.
+
+What could she do besides? Mildred, with the reins lying loosely over
+old Whitefoot's back, thought and wondered. There was opportunity for
+much at the Brae.
+
+Lawrence and Grace chatted eagerly as the old pony climbed hills and
+descended valleys, till at last he paused at a rise in the path, then
+went on, and there, the ground dipping down like the sides of a cup, in
+the hollow at the bottom lay the straggling village.
+
+"Yes," said Grace, "I remember it all. There is the post-office, and
+Doremus' store, and the little inn, the church with the white spire, the
+school-house, and the Manse. Drive faster, please, Mildred. I want to
+see my mother. Just around that fir grove should be the old home of
+Wishing-Brae."
+
+Tears filled Grace's eyes. Her heart beat fast.
+
+The Wainwrights' house stood at the end of a long willow-bordered lane.
+As the manse carryall turned into this from the road a shout was heard
+from the house. Presently a rush of children tearing toward the
+carriage, and a chorus of "Hurrah, here is Grace!" announced the delight
+of the younger ones at meeting their sister. Mildred drew up at the
+doorstep, Lawrence helped Grace out, and a fair-haired older sister
+kissed her and led her to the mother sitting by the window in a great
+wheeled chair.
+
+The Raeburns hurried away. As they turned out of the lane they met Mr.
+Burden with his cart piled high with Grace's trunks.
+
+"Where shall my boxes be carried, sister?" said Grace, a few minutes
+later. She was sitting softly stroking her mother's thin white hand,
+the mother gazing with pride and joy into the beautiful blooming face of
+her stranger girl, who had left her a child.
+
+"My middle girl, my precious middle daughter," she said, her eyes
+filling with tears. "Miriam, Grace, and Eva, now I have you all about
+me, my three girls. I am a happy woman, Gracie."
+
+"Hallo!" came up the stairs; "Burden's waiting to be paid. He says it's
+a dollar and a quarter. Who's got the money? There never is any money in
+this house."
+
+"Hush, Robbie!" cried Miriam, looking over the railing. "The trunks will
+have to be brought right up here, of course. Set them into our room, and
+after they are unpacked we'll put them into the garret. Mother, is there
+any change in your pocketbook?"
+
+"Don't trouble mamma," said Grace, waking up to the fact that there was
+embarrassment in meeting this trifling charge. "I have money;" and she
+opened her dainty purse for the purpose--a silvery alligator thing with
+golden clasps and her monogram on it in jewels, and took out the money
+needed. Her sisters and brother had a glimpse of bills and silver in
+that well-filled purse.
+
+"Jiminy!" said Robbie to James. "Did you see the money she's got? Why,
+father never had as much as that at once."
+
+Which was very true. How should a hard-working country doctor have money
+to carry about when his bills were hard to collect, when anyway he never
+kept books, and when his family, what with feeding and clothing and
+schooling expenses, cost more every year than he could possibly earn?
+Poor Doctor Wainwright! He was growing old and bent under the load of
+care and expense he had to carry. While he couldn't collect his own
+bills, because it is unprofessional for a doctor to dun, people did not
+hesitate to dun him. All this day, as he drove from house to house, over
+the weary miles, up hill and down, there was a song in his heart. He was
+a sanguine man. A little bit of hope went a long way in encouraging this
+good doctor, and he felt sure that better days would dawn for him now
+that Grace had come home. A less hopeful temperament would have been apt
+to see rocks in the way, the girl having been so differently educated
+from the others, and accustomed to luxuries which they had never known.
+Not so her father. He saw everything in rose-color.
+
+As Doctor Wainwright toward evening turned his horse's head homeward he
+was rudely stopped on a street corner by a red-faced, red-bearded man,
+who presented him with a bill. The man grumbled out sullenly, with a
+scowl on his face:
+
+"Doctor Wainwright, I'm sorry to bother you, but this bill has been
+standing a long time. It will accommodate me very much if you can let me
+have something on account next Monday. I've got engagements to
+meet--pressing engagements, sir."
+
+"I'll do my best, Potter," said the doctor. Where he was to get any
+money by Monday he did not know, but, as Potter said, the money was due.
+He thrust the bill into his coat pocket and drove on, half his pleasure
+in again seeing his child clouded by this encounter. Pulling his gray
+mustache, the world growing dark as the sun went down, the father's
+spirits sank to zero. He had peeped at the bill. It was larger than he
+had supposed, as bills are apt to be. Two hundred dollars! And he
+couldn't borrow, and there was nothing more to mortgage. And Grace's
+coming back had led him to sanction the purchase of a new piano, to be
+paid for by instalments. The piano had been seen going home a few days
+before, and every creditor the doctor had, seeing its progress, had been
+quick to put in his claim, reasoning very naturally that if Doctor
+Wainwright could afford to buy a new piano, he could equally afford to
+settle his old debts, and must be urged to do so.
+
+The old mare quickened her pace as she saw her stable door ahead of
+her. The lines hung limp and loose in her master's hands. Under the
+pressure of distress about this dreadful two hundred dollars he had
+forgotten to be glad that Grace was again with them.
+
+Doctor Wainwright was an easy-going as well as a hopeful sort of man,
+but he was an honest person, and he knew that creditors have a right to
+be insistent. It distressed him to drag around a load of debt. For days
+together the poor doctor had driven a long way round rather than to pass
+Potter's store on the main street, the dread of some such encounter and
+the shame of his position weighing heavily on his soul. It was the
+harder for him that he had made it a rule never to appear anxious before
+his wife. Mrs. Wainwright had enough to bear in being ill and in pain.
+The doctor braced himself and threw back his shoulders as if casting off
+a load, as the mare, of her own accord, stopped at the door.
+
+The house was full of light. Merry voices overflowed in rippling speech
+and laughter. Out swarmed the children to meet papa, and one sweet girl
+kissed him over and over. "Here I am," she said, "your middle daughter,
+dearest. Here I am."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+GRACE TAKES A HAND.
+
+
+"Mother, darling, may I have a good long talk with you to-day, a
+confidential talk, we two by ourselves?"
+
+"Yes, Grace, I shall be delighted."
+
+"And when can it be? You always have so many around you, dear; and no
+wonder, this is the centre of the house, this chair, which is your
+throne."
+
+"Well, let me see," said Mrs. Wainwright, considering. "After dinner the
+children go to Sunday-school, and papa has always a few Sunday patients
+whom he must visit. Between two and four I am always alone on Sunday and
+we can have a chat then. Mildred and Frances will probably walk home
+with Miriam and want to carry you off to the Manse to tea."
+
+"Not on my first home Sunday, mamma," said Grace. "I must have every
+littlest bit of that here, though I do expect to have good times with
+the Manse girls. Is Mrs. Raeburn as sweet as ever? I remember her
+standing at the station and waving me good-bye when I went away with
+auntie, and Amy, the dearest wee fairy, was by her side."
+
+"Amy is full of plans," said Mrs. Wainwright. "She is going to the
+League to study art if her mother can spare her. Mildred and Frances
+want to go on with their French, and one of the little boys, I forget
+which, has musical talent; but there is no one in Highland who can teach
+the piano. The Raeburn children are all clever and bright."
+
+"They could hardly help being that, mamma, with such a father and
+mother, and the atmosphere of such a home."
+
+All this time there was the hurry and bustle of Sunday morning in a
+large family where every one goes to church, and the time between
+breakfast and half-past ten is a scramble. Grace kept quietly on with
+the work she had that morning assumed, straightening the quilts on the
+invalid's chair, bringing her a new book, and setting a little vase with
+a few late flowers on the table by her side. Out of Grace's trunks there
+had been produced gifts for the whole household, and many pretty things,
+pictures and curios, which lent attractiveness to the parlor, grown
+shabby and faded with use and poverty, but still a pretty and homelike
+parlor, as a room which is lived in by well-bred people must always be.
+
+"Well, when the rest have gone to Sunday-school, and papa has started on
+his afternoon rounds, I'll come here and take my seat, where I used to
+when I was a wee tot, and we'll have an old-fashioned confab. Now, if
+the girls have finished dressing, I'll run and get ready for church. I'm
+so glad all through that I can again hear one of Dr. Raeburn's helpful
+sermons."
+
+Mrs. Wainwright smiled.
+
+"To hear Frances' and Amy's chatter, one would not think that so great a
+privilege, Grace."
+
+"Oh, that amounts to nothing, mamma! Let somebody else criticise their
+father and you'd hear another story. Ministers' families are apt to be a
+little less appreciative than outsiders, they are so used to the
+minister in all his moods. But Dr. Raeburn's "Every Morning" has been my
+companion book to the Bible ever since I was old enough to like and need
+such books, and though I was so small when I went that I remember only
+the music of his voice, I want to hear him preach again."
+
+"Grace," came a call from the floor above, "you can have your turn at
+the basin and the looking-glass if you'll come this minute. Hurry, dear,
+I'm keeping Eva off by strategy. You have your hair to do and I want you
+to hook my collar. You must have finished in mother's room, and it's my
+belief you two are just chattering. Hurry, please, dear!"
+
+"Yes, Miriam, I'm coming. But let Eva go on. It takes only a second for
+me to slip into my jacket. I never dress for church," she explained to
+her mother. "This little black gown is what I always wear on Sundays."
+
+"I wish you could have a room of your own, daughter. It's hard after
+you've had independence so long to be sandwiched in between Miriam and
+Eva. But we could not manage another room just now." The mother looked
+wistful.
+
+"I'm doing very well, mamma. Never give it a thought. Why, it's fun
+being with my sisters as I always used to be. Miriam is the one entitled
+to a separate room, if anybody could have it."
+
+Yet she stifled a sigh as she ran up to the large, ill-appointed chamber
+which the three sisters used in common.
+
+When you have had your own separate, individual room for years, with
+every dainty belonging that is possible for a luxurious taste to
+provide, it is a bit of a trial to give it up and be satisfied with a
+cot at one end of a long, barnlike place, with no chance for solitude,
+and only one mirror and one pitcher and basin to serve the needs of
+three persons. It can be borne, however, as every small trial in this
+world may, if there is a cheerful spirit and a strong, loving heart to
+fall back on. Besides, most things may be improved if you know how to go
+about the task. The chief thing is first to accept the situation, and
+then bravely to undertake the changing it for the better.
+
+"Doctor," said the mother, as her husband brushed his thin gray hair in
+front of his chiffonier, while the merry sound of their children's
+voices came floating down to them through open doors, "thank the dear
+Lord for me in my stead when you sit in the pew to-day. I'll be with you
+in my thoughts. It's such a blessed thing that our little middle girl is
+at home with us."
+
+The doctor sighed. That bill in his pocket was burning like fire in his
+soul. He was not a cent nearer meeting it than he had been on Friday,
+and to-morrow was but twenty-four hours off. Yesterday he had tried to
+borrow from a cousin, but in vain.
+
+"I fail to see a blessing anywhere, Charlotte," he said. "Things
+couldn't well be worse. This is a dark bit of the road." He checked
+himself. Why had he saddened her? It was not his custom.
+
+"When things are at the very worst, Jack, I've always noticed that they
+take a turn for the better. 'It may not be my way; it may not be thy
+way; but yet in His own way the Lord will provide.'" Mrs. Wainwright
+spoke steadily and cheerfully. Her thin cheeks flushed with feeling. Her
+tones were strong. Her smile was like a sunbeam. Doctor Wainwright's
+courage rose.
+
+"Anyway, darling wife, you are the best blessing a man ever had." He
+stooped and kissed her like a lover.
+
+Presently the whole family, Grace walking proudly at her father's side,
+took their way across the fields to church.
+
+Perhaps you may have seen lovely Sunday mornings, but I don't think
+there is a place in the whole world where Sunday sunshine is as clear,
+Sunday stillness as full of rest, Sunday flowers as fragrant, as in our
+hamlet among the hills, our own dear Highland. Far and near the roads
+wind past farms and fields, with simple, happy homes nestling under the
+shadow of the mountains. You hear the church bells, and their sound is
+soft and clear as they break the golden silence. Groups of people,
+rosy-cheeked children, and sturdy boys and pleasant looking men and
+women pass you walking to church, exchanging greetings. Carriage loads
+of old and young drive on, all going the same way. It makes me think of
+a verse in the Psalm which my old Scottish mother loved:
+
+    "I joyed when to the house of God
+      'Go up,' they said to me,
+    'Jerusalem, within thy gates
+      Our feet shall standing be.'"
+
+"Oh, Paradise! oh, Paradise!" hummed Amy Raeburn that same Sunday
+morning as, the last to leave the Manse, she ran after her mother and
+sisters. The storm of the two previous days had newly brightened the
+landscape. Every twig and branch shone, and the red and yellow maple
+leaves, the wine-color of the oak, the burnished copper of the beech,
+were like jewels in the sun.
+
+"If it were not Sunday I would dance," said Amy, subduing her steps to a
+sober walk as she saw approaching the majestic figure of Mrs. Cyril
+Bannington Barnes.
+
+"You are late, Amy Raeburn," said this lady. "Your father went to church
+a half-hour ago, and the bell is tolling. Young people should cultivate
+a habit of being punctual. This being a few minutes behind time is very
+reprehensible--very rep-re-hen-sible indeed, my love."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," replied Amy, meekly, walking slowly beside the also tardy
+Mrs. Barnes.
+
+"I dare say," continued Mrs. Barnes, "that you are thinking to yourself
+that I also am late. But, Amy, I have no duty to the parish. I am an
+independent woman. You are a girl, and the minister's daughter at that.
+You are in a very different position. I do hope, Amy Raeburn, that you
+will not be late another Sunday morning. Your mother is not so good a
+disciplinarian as I could wish."
+
+"No, Mrs. Barnes?" said Amy, with a gentle questioning manner, which
+would have irritated the matron still more had their progress not now
+ceased on the church steps. Amy, both resentful and amused, fluttered,
+like an alarmed chick to the brooding mother-wing, straight to the
+minister's pew. Mrs. Barnes, smoothing ruffled plumes, proceeded with
+stately and impressive tread to her place in front of the pulpit.
+
+Doctor Raeburn was rising to pronounce the invocation. The church was
+full. Amy glanced over to the Wainwright pew, and saw Grace, and smiled.
+Into Amy's mind stole a text she was fond of, quite as if an angel had
+spoken it, and she forgot that she had been ruffled the wrong way by
+Mrs. Cyril Bannington Barnes. This was the text:
+
+"Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good."
+
+"You are a hateful, wicked girl, Amy," said Amy to herself. "Why, when
+you have so much to make you happy, are you so easily upset by a fretful
+old lady, who is, after all, your friend, and would stand by you if
+there were need?"
+
+Amy did not know it, but it was Grace's sweet and tranquil look that had
+brought the text to her mind. One of the dearest things in life is that
+we may do good and not know that we are doing it.
+
+When the Sunday hush fell on the house of which Mrs. Wainwright had
+spoken Grace came softly tapping at the door.
+
+"Yes, dear," called her mother; "come right in."
+
+"Mamma," said Grace, after a few minutes, "will you tell me plainly, if
+you don't mind, what is worrying papa? I don't mean generally, but what
+special trouble is on his mind to-day?"
+
+"Potter's bill, I have no doubt," said the mother, quietly. "Other
+troubles come and go, but there is always Potter's bill in the
+background. And every little while it crops up and gets into the front."
+
+"What is Potter's bill, dear mamma, and how do we come to owe it?"
+
+"I can't fully explain to you, my child, how it comes to be so large.
+When Mr. Potter's father was living and carrying on the business, he
+used to say to your father: 'Just get all you want here, doctor; never
+give yourself a thought; pay when you can and what you can. We come to
+you for medical advice and remedies, and we'll strike a balance
+somehow.' The Potters have during years had very little occasion for a
+doctor's services, and we, with this great family, have had to have
+groceries, shoes, and every other thing, and Potter's bill has kept
+rolling up like a great snowball, bit by bit. We pay something now and
+then. I sold my old sideboard that came to me from my grandparents, and
+paid a hundred dollars on it six months ago. Old Mr. Potter died. Rufus
+reigns in his stead, as the Bible says, and he wants to collect his
+money. I do not blame him, Grace, but he torments poor papa. There are
+two hundred dollars due now, and papa has been trying to get money due
+him, and to pay Rufus fifty dollars, but he's afraid he can't raise the
+money."
+
+Grace reflected. Then she asked a question. "Dear mamma, don't think me
+prying, but is Potter's the only pressing obligation on papa just now?"
+
+Mrs. Wainwright hesitated. Then she answered, a little slowly, "No,
+Grace, there are other accounts; but Potter's is the largest."
+
+"I ask, because I can help my father," said Grace, modestly. "Uncle
+Ralph deposited five hundred dollars to my credit in a New York bank on
+my birthday. The money is mine, to do with absolutely as I please. I
+have nearly fifty dollars in my trunk. Uncle and auntie have always
+given me money lavishly. Papa can settle Potter's account to-morrow. I'm
+only too thankful I have the money. To think that money can do so much
+toward making people happy or making them miserable! Then, mother dear,
+we'll go into papa's accounts and see how near I can come to relieving
+the present state of affairs; and if papa will consent, we'll collect
+his bills, and then later, I've another scheme--that is a fine,
+sweet-toned piano in the parlor. I mean to give lessons."
+
+"Grace, it was an extravagance in our circumstances to get that piano,
+but the girls were so tired of the old one; it was worn out, a tin pan,
+and this is to be paid for on easy terms, so much a month."
+
+Grace hated to have her mother to apologize in this way. She hastened to
+say, "I'm glad it's here, and don't think me conceited, but I've had the
+best instruction uncle could secure for me here, and a short course in
+Berlin, and now I mean to make it of some use. I believe I can get
+pupils."
+
+"Not many in Highland, I fear, Grace."
+
+"If not in Highland, in New York. Leave that to me."
+
+Mrs. Wainwright felt as if she had been taking a tonic. To the lady
+living her days out in her own chamber, and unaccustomed to excitement,
+there was something very surprising and very stimulating too in the
+swift way of settling things and the fearlessness of this young girl.
+Though she had yielded very reluctantly to her brother's wish to keep
+Grace apart from her family and wholly his own for so many years, she
+now saw there was good in it. Her little girl had developed into a
+resolute, capable and strong sort of young woman, who could make use of
+whatever tools her education had put into her hands.
+
+"This hasn't been quite the right kind of Sunday talk, mother," said
+Grace, "but I haven't been here three days without seeing there's a
+cloud, and I don't like to give up to clouds. I'm like the old woman who
+must take her broom and sweep the cobwebs out of the sky."
+
+"God helping you, my dear, you will succeed. You have swept some cobwebs
+out of my sky already."
+
+"God helping me, yes, dear. Thank you for saying that. Now don't you
+want me to sing to you? I'll darken your room and set the door ajar, and
+then I'll go to the parlor and play soft, rippling, silvery things, and
+sing to you, and you will fall asleep while I'm singing, and have a
+lovely nap before they all come home."
+
+As Grace went down the stairs, she paused a moment at the door of the
+big dining-room, "large as a town hall," her father sometimes said.
+Everything at Wishing-Brae was of ample size--great rooms, lofty
+ceilings, big fire-places, broad windows.
+
+"I missed the sideboard, the splendid old mahogany piece with its deep
+winy lustre, and the curious carved work. Mother must have grieved to
+part with it. Surely uncle and aunt couldn't have known of these
+straits. Well, I'm at home now, and they need somebody to manage for
+them. Uncle always said I had a business head. God helping me, I'll pull
+my people out of the slough of despond."
+
+The young girl went into the parlor, where the amber light from the
+west was beginning to fall upon the old Wainwright portraits, the
+candelabra with their prisms pendent, and the faded cushions and rugs.
+Playing softly, as she had said, singing sweetly "Abide with me" and
+"Sun of my soul," the mother was soothed into a peaceful little
+half-hour of sleep, in which she dreamed that God had sent her an angel
+guest, whose name was Grace.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+TWO LITTLE SCHOOLMARMS.
+
+
+"And so you are your papa's good fairy? How happy you must be! How
+proud!" Amy's eyes shone as she talked to Grace, and smoothed down a
+fold of the pretty white alpaca gown which set off her friend's dainty
+beauty. The girls were in my mother's room at the Manse, and Mrs.
+Raeburn had left them together to talk over plans, while she went to the
+parlor to entertain a visitor who was engaged in getting up an autumn
+_fete_ for a charitable purpose. Nothing of this kind was ever done
+without mother's aid.
+
+There were few secrets between Wishing-Brae and the Manse, and Mrs.
+Wainwright had told our mother how opportunely Grace had been able to
+assist her father in his straits. Great was our joy.
+
+"You must remember, dear," said mamma, when she returned from seeing
+Miss Gardner off, "that your purse is not exhaustless, though it is a
+long one for a girl. Debts have a way of eating up bank accounts; and
+what will you do when your money is gone if you still find that the wolf
+menaces the door at Wishing-Brae?"
+
+"That is what I want to consult you about, Aunt Dorothy." (I ought to
+have said that our mother was Aunt Dorothy to the children at the Brae,
+and more beloved than many a real auntie, though one only by courtesy.)
+"Frances knows my ambitions," Grace went on. "I mean to be a money-maker
+as well as a money-spender; and I have two strings to my bow. First, I'd
+like to give interpretations."
+
+The mother looked puzzled. "Interpretations?" she said. "Of what,
+pray?--Sanscrit or Egyptian or Greek? Are you a seeress or a witch, dear
+child?"
+
+"Neither. In plain English I want to read stories and poems to my
+friends and to audiences--Miss Wilkins' and Mrs. Stuart's beautiful
+stories, and the poems of Holmes and Longfellow and others who speak to
+the heart. Not mere elocutionary reading, but simple reading, bringing
+out the author's meaning and giving people pleasure. I would charge an
+admission fee, and our dining-room would hold a good many; but I ought
+to have read somewhere else first, and to have a little background of
+city fame before I ask Highland neighbors to come and hear me. This is
+my initial plan. I could branch out."
+
+To the mother the new idea did not at once commend itself. She knew
+better than we girls did how many twenty-five-cent tickets must be sold
+to make a good round sum in dollars. She knew the thrifty people of
+Highland looked long at a quarter before they parted with it for mere
+amusement, and still further, she doubted whether Dr. Wainwright would
+like the thing. But Amy clapped her hands gleefully. She thought it
+fine.
+
+"You must give a studio reading," she said. "I can manage that, mother;
+if Miss Antoinette Drury will lend her studio, and we send out
+invitations for 'Music and Reading, and Tea at Five,' the prestige part
+will be taken care of. The only difficulty that I can see is that Grace
+would have to go to a lot of places and travel about uncomfortably; and
+then she'd need a manager. Wouldn't she, Frances?"
+
+"I see no trouble," said I, "in her being her own manager. She would go
+to a new town with a letter to the pastor of the leading church, or his
+wife, call in at the newspaper office and get a puff; puffs are always
+easily secured by enterprising young women, and they help to fill up the
+paper besides. Then she would hire a hall and pay for it out of her
+profits, and the business could be easily carried forward."
+
+"Is this the New Woman breaking her shell?" said mother. "I don't think
+I quite like the interpretation scheme either as Amy or as you outline
+it, though I am open to persuasion. Here is the doctor. Let us hear what
+he says."
+
+It was not Dr. Wainwright, but my father, Dr. Raeburn, except on a
+Friday, the most genial of men. Amy perched herself on his knee and ran
+her slim fingers through his thick dark hair. To him our plans were
+explained, and he at once gave them his approval.
+
+"As I understand you, Gracie," Dr. Raeburn said, "you wish this reading
+business as a stepping-stone. You would form classes, would you not? And
+your music could also be utilized. You had good instruction, I fancy,
+both here and over the water."
+
+"Indeed, yes, Dr. Raeburn; and I could give lessons in music, but they
+wouldn't bring me in much, here at least."
+
+"Come to my study," said the doctor, rising. "Amy, you have ruffled up
+my hair till I look like a cherub before the flood. Come, all of you,
+Dorothy and the kids."
+
+"You don't call us kids, do you, papa?"
+
+"Young ladies, then, at your service," said the doctor, with a low bow.
+"I've a letter from my old friend, Vernon Hastings. I'll read it to you
+when I can find it," said the good man, rummaging among the books,
+papers, and correspondence with which his great table was littered.
+"Judge Hastings," the doctor went on, "lost his wife in Venice a year
+ago. He has three little girls in need, of special advantages; he cannot
+bear to send them away to school, and his mother, who lives with him and
+orders the house, won't listen to having a resident governess. Ah, this
+is the letter!" The doctor read:
+
+     "I wish you could help me, Charley, in the dilemma in which I find
+     myself. Lucy and Helen and my little Madge are to be educated, and
+     the question is how, when, and where? They are delicate, and I
+     cannot yet make up my mind to the desolate house I would have
+     should they go to school. Grandmamma has pronounced against a
+     governess, and I don't like the day-schools of the town. Now is not
+     one of your daughters musical, and perhaps another sufficiently
+     mistress of the elementary branches to teach these babies? I will
+     pay liberally the right person or persons for three hours' work a
+     day. But I must have well-bred girls, ladies, to be with my trio of
+     bairns."
+
+"I couldn't teach arithmetic or drawing," said Grace. "I would be glad
+to try my hand at music, and geography and German and French. I might
+be weak on spelling."
+
+"I don't think that of you, Grace," said mother.
+
+"I am ashamed to say it's true," said Grace.
+
+Amy interrupted. "How far away is Judge Hastings' home, papa?"
+
+"An hour's ride, Amy dear. No, forty minutes' ride by rail. I'll go and
+see him. I've no doubt he will pay you generously, Grace, for your
+services, if you feel that you can take up this work seriously."
+
+"I do; I will," said Grace, "and only too thankful will I be to
+undertake it; but what about the multiplication table, and the straight
+and the curved lines, and Webster's speller?"
+
+"Papa," said Amy, gravely, "please mention me to the judge. I will teach
+those midgets the arithmetic and drawing and other fundamental studies
+which my gifted friend fears to touch."
+
+"You?" said papa, in surprise.
+
+"Why not, dear?" interposed mamma. "Amy's youth is against her, but the
+fact is she can count and she can draw, and I am not afraid to recommend
+her, though she is only a chit of fifteen, as to her spelling."
+
+"Going on sixteen, mamma, if you please, and nearly there," Amy
+remarked, drawing herself up to her fullest height, at which we all
+laughed merrily.
+
+"I taught school myself at sixteen," our mother went on, "and though it
+made me feel like twenty-six, I had no trouble with thirty boys and
+girls of all ages from four to eighteen. You must remember me, my love,
+in the old district school at Elmwood."
+
+"Yes," said papa, "and your overpowering dignity was a sight for gods
+and men. All the same you were a darling."
+
+"So she is still." And we pounced upon her in a body and devoured her
+with kisses, the sweet little mother.
+
+"Papa," Amy proceeded, when order had been restored, "why not take us
+when you go to interview the judge? Then he can behold his future
+schoolma'ams, arrange terms, and settle the thing at once. I presume
+Grace is anxious as I am to begin her career, now that it looms up
+before her. I am in the mood of the youth who bore through snow and ice
+the banner with the strange device, 'Excelsior.'"
+
+"In the mean time, good people," said Frances, appearing in the doorway,
+"luncheon is served."
+
+We had a pretty new dish--new to us--for luncheon, and as everybody may
+not know how nice it is, I'll just mention it in passing.
+
+Take large ripe tomatoes, scoop out the pulp and mix it with finely
+minced canned salmon, adding a tiny pinch of salt. Fill the tomatoes
+with this mixture, set them in a nest of crisp green lettuce leaves, and
+pour a mayonnaise into each ruby cup. The dish is extremely dainty and
+inviting, and tastes as good as it looks. It must be very cold.
+
+"But," Doctor Raeburn said, in reply to a remark of mother's that she
+was pleased the girls had decided on teaching, it was so womanly and
+proper an employment for girls of good family, "I must insist that the
+'interpretations' be not entirely dropped. I'll introduce you, my dear,"
+he said, "when you give your first recital, and that will make it all
+right in the eyes of Highland."
+
+"Thank you, doctor," said Grace. "I would rather have your sanction than
+anything else in the world, except papa's approval."
+
+"Why don't your King's Daughters give Grace a boom? You are always
+getting up private theatricals, and this is just the right time."
+
+"Lawrence Raeburn you are a trump!" said Amy, flying round to her
+brother and giving him a hug. "We'll propose it at the first meeting of
+the Ten, and it'll be carried by acclamation."
+
+"Now," said Grace, rising and saying good-afternoon to my mother, with a
+courtesy to the rest of us, "I'm going straight home to break ground
+there and prepare my mother for great events."
+
+Walking over the fields in great haste, for when one has news to
+communicate, one's feet are wings, Grace was arrested by a groan as of
+somebody in great pain. She looked about cautiously, but it was several
+minutes before she found, lying under the hedge, a boy with a broken
+pitcher at his side. He was deadly pale, and great drops of sweat rolled
+down his face.
+
+"Oh, you poor boy! What is the matter?" she cried, bending over him in
+great concern.
+
+"I've broke mother's best china pitcher," said the lad, in a despairing
+voice.
+
+"Poof!" replied Grace. "Pitchers can be mended or replaced. What else is
+wrong? You're not groaning over a broken pitcher, surely!"
+
+"You would, if it came over in the _Mayflower_, and was all of your
+ancestors' you had left to show that you could be a Colonial Dame.
+Ug-gh!" The boy tried to sit up, gasped and fell back in a dead faint.
+
+"Goodness!" said Grace; "he's broken his leg as well as his pitcher.
+Colonial Dames! What nonsense! Well, I can't leave him here."
+
+She had her smelling salts in her satchel, but before she could find
+them, Grace's satchel being an _omnium gatherum_ of a remarkably
+miscellaneous character, the lad came to. A fainting person will usually
+regain consciousness soon if laid out flat, with the head a little lower
+than the body. I've seen people persist in keeping a fainting friend in
+a sitting position, which is very stupid and quite cruel.
+
+"I am Doctor Wainwright's daughter," said Grace, "and I see my father's
+gig turning the corner of the road. You shall have help directly. Papa
+will know what to do, so lie still where you are."
+
+The lad obeyed, there plainly being nothing else to be done. In a second
+Doctor Wainwright, at Grace's flag of distress, a white handkerchief
+waving from the top of her parasol, came toward her at the mare's
+fastest pace.
+
+"Hello!" he said. "Here's Archie Vanderhoven in a pickle."
+
+"As usual, doctor," said Archie, faintly. "I've broken mother's last
+pitcher."
+
+"And your leg, I see," observed the doctor, with professional
+directness. "Well, my boy, you must be taken home. Grace, drive home for
+me, and tell the boys to bring a cot here as soon as possible. Meanwhile
+I'll set Archie's leg. It's only a simple fracture." And the doctor from
+his black bag, brought out bandages and instruments. No army surgeon on
+the field of battle was quicker and gentler than Doctor Wainwright,
+whose skill was renowned all over our country-side.
+
+"What is there about the Vanderhovens?" inquired Grace that night as
+they sat by the blaze of hickory logs in the cheery parlor of
+Wishing-Brae.
+
+"The Vanderhovens are a decayed family," her father answered. "They were
+once very well off and lived in state, and from far and near gay parties
+were drawn at Easter and Christmas to dance under their roof. Now they
+are run out. This boy and his mother are the last of the line. Archie's
+father was drowned in the ford when we had the freshet last spring. The
+Ramapo, that looks so peaceful now, overflowed its banks then, and ran
+like a mill-race. I don't know how they manage, but Archie is kept at
+school, and his mother does everything from ironing white frocks for
+summer boarders to making jellies and preserves for people in town, who
+send her orders."
+
+"Is she an educated woman?" inquired Grace.
+
+"That she is. Mrs. Vanderhoven is not only highly educated, but very
+elegant and accomplished. None of her attainments, except those in the
+domestic line, are available, unhappily, when earning a living is in
+question, and she can win her bread only by these housekeeping efforts."
+
+"Might I go and see her?"
+
+"Why yes, dear, you and the others not only might, but should. She will
+need help. I'll call and consult Mrs. Raeburn about her to-morrow. She
+isn't a woman one can treat like a pauper--as well born as any one in
+the land, and prouder than Lucifer. It's too bad Archie had to meet with
+this accident; but boys are fragile creatures."
+
+And the doctor, shaking the ashes from his pipe, went off to sit with
+his wife before going to bed.
+
+"I do wonder," said Grace to Eva, "what the boy was doing with the old
+Puritan pitcher, and why a Vanderhoven should have boasted of coming
+over in the _Mayflower_?"
+
+Eva said: "They're Dutch and English, Grace. The Vanderhovens are from
+Holland, but Archie's mother was a Standish, or something of that sort,
+and her kinsfolk, of course, belonged to the _Mayflower_ crowd. I
+believe Archie meant to sell that pitcher, and if so, no wonder he broke
+his leg. By-the-way, what became of the pieces?"
+
+"I picked them up," said Grace.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+CEMENTS AND RIVETS.
+
+
+"How did we ever consent to let our middle daughter stay away all these
+years, mother?" said Dr. Wainwright, addressing his wife.
+
+"I cannot tell how it happened, father," she said, musingly. "I think we
+drifted into the arrangement, and you know each year brother was
+expected to bring her back Harriet would plan a jaunt or a journey which
+kept her away, and then, Jack, we've generally been rather out at the
+elbows, and I have been so helpless, that, with our large family, it was
+for Grace's good to let her remain where she was so well provided for."
+
+"She's clear grit, isn't she?" said the doctor, admiringly, stalking to
+and fro in his wife's chamber. "I didn't half like the notion of her
+giving readings; but Charley Raeburn says the world moves and we must
+move with it, and now that her object is not purely a selfish one, I
+withdraw my opposition. I confess, though, darling, I don't enjoy the
+thought that my girls must earn money. I feel differently about the
+boys."
+
+"Jack, dear," said his wife, tenderly, always careful not to wound the
+feelings of this unsuccessful man who was still so loving and so full of
+chivalry, "you needn't mind that in the very least. The girl who doesn't
+want to earn money for herself in these days is in the minority. Girls
+feel it in the air. They all fret and worry, or most of them do, until
+they are allowed to measure their strength and test the commercial worth
+of what they have acquired. You are a dear old fossil, Jack. Just look
+at it in this way: Suppose Mrs. Vanderhoven, brought up in the purple,
+taught to play a little, to embroider a little, to speak a little
+French--to do a little of many things and nothing well--had been given
+the sort of education that in her day was the right of every gentleman's
+son, though denied the gentleman's daughter, would her life be so hard
+and narrow and distressful now? Would she be reduced to taking in fine
+washing and hemstitching, and canning fruit?"
+
+"Canning fruit, mother dear," said Miriam, who had just come in to
+procure fresh towels for the bedrooms, "is a fine occupation. Several
+women in the United States are making their fortunes at that. Eva and I,
+who haven't Grace's talents, are thinking of taking it up in earnest. I
+can make preserves, I rejoice to say."
+
+"When you are ready to begin, you shall have my blessing," said her
+father. "I yield to the new order of things." Then as the pretty elder
+daughter disappeared, a sheaf of white lavender-perfumed towels over her
+arm, he said: "Now, dear, I perceive your point. Archie Vanderhoven's
+accident has, however, occurred in the very best possible time for
+Grace. The King's Daughters--you know what a breezy Ten they are, with
+our Eva and the Raeburns' Amy among them--are going to give a lift to
+Archie, not to his mother, who might take offence. All the local talent
+of our young people is already enlisted. Our big dining-room is to be
+the hall of ceremonies, and I believe they are to have tableaux, music,
+readings and refreshments. This will come off on the first moonlight
+night, and the proceeds will all go to Archie, to be kept, probably, as
+a nest-egg for his college expenses. That mother of his means him to go
+through college, you know, if she has to pay the fees by hard work,
+washing, ironing, scrubbing, what not."
+
+"I hope the boy's worth it," said Mrs. Wainwright, doubtfully. "Few boys
+are."
+
+"The right boy is," said the doctor, firmly. "In our medical association
+there's one fellow who is on the way to be a famous surgeon. He's fine,
+Jane, the most plucky, persistent man, with the eye, and the nerve, and
+the hand, and the delicacy and steadiness of the surgeon born in him,
+and confirmed by training. Some of his operations are perfectly
+beautiful, beautiful! He'll be famous over the whole world yet. His
+mother was an Irish charwoman, and she and he had a terrible tug to
+carry him through his studies."
+
+"Is he good to her? Is he grateful?" asked Mrs. Wainwright, much
+impressed.
+
+"Good! grateful! I should say so," said the doctor. "She lives like
+Queen Victoria, rides in her carriage, dresses in black silk, has four
+maids to wait on her. She lives like the first lady in the land, in her
+son's house, and he treats her like a lover. He's a man. He was worth
+all she did. They say," added the doctor, presently, "that sometimes the
+old lady tires of her splendor, sends the maids away to visit their
+cousins, and turns in and works for a day or two like all possessed.
+She's been seen hanging out blankets on a windy day in the back yard,
+with a face as happy as that of a child playing truant."
+
+"Poor, dear old thing," said Mrs. Wainwright. "Well, to go back to our
+girlie, she's to be allowed to take her own way, isn't she, and to be as
+energetic and work as steadily as she likes?"
+
+"Yes, dearest, she shall, for all I'll do or say to the contrary. And
+when my ship comes in I'll pay her back with interest for the loans
+she's made me lately."
+
+The doctor went off to visit his patients. His step had grown light,
+his face had lost its look of alert yet furtive dread. He looked twenty
+years younger. And no wonder. He no longer had to dodge Potter at every
+turn, and a big package of receipted bills, endorsed and dated, lay
+snugly in his desk, the fear of duns exorcised thereby. A man whose path
+has been impeded by the thick underbrush of debts he cannot settle, and
+who finds his obligations cancelled, may well walk gaily along the
+cleared and brightened roadway, hearing birds sing and seeing blue sky
+beaming above his head.
+
+The Ten took hold of the first reading with enthusiasm. Flags were
+borrowed, and blazing boughs of maple and oak, with festoons of crimson
+blackberry vine and armfuls of golden rod transformed the long room into
+a bower. Seats were begged and borrowed, and all the cooks in town made
+cake with fury and pride for the great affair. The tickets were sold
+without much trouble, and the girls had no end of fun in rehearsing the
+tableaux which were decided on as preferable in an entertainment given
+by the King's Daughters, because in tableaux everybody has something to
+do. Grace was to read from "Young Lucretia" and a poem by Hetta Lord
+Hayes Ward, a lovely poem about a certain St. Bridget who trudges up to
+heaven's gate, after her toiling years, and finds St. Peter waiting to
+set it wide open. The poor, modest thing was an example of Keble's
+lovely stanza:
+
+    "Meek souls there are who little dream
+    Their daily life an angel's theme,
+    Nor that the rod they bear so calm
+    In heaven may prove a martyr's palm."
+
+Very much astonished at her reception, she is escorted up to the serene
+heights by tall seraphs, who treat her with the greatest reverence. By
+and by along comes a grand lady, one of Bridget's former employers. She
+just squeezes through the gate, and then,
+
+    "Down heaven's hill a radiant saint
+    Comes flying with a palm,
+    'Are you here, Bridget O'Flaherty?'
+    St. Bridget cries, 'Yes ma'am.'
+
+    "'Oh, teach me, Bridget, the manners, please,
+    Of the royal court above.'
+    'Sure, honey dear, you'll aisy learn
+    Humility and love.'"
+
+I haven't time to tell you all about the entertainment, and there is no
+need. You, of course, belong to Tens or to needlework guilds or to
+orders of some kind, and if you are a member of the Order of the Round
+Table why, of course, you are doing good in some way or other, and good
+which enables one to combine social enjoyment and a grand frolic; and
+the making of a purseful of gold and silver for a crippled boy, or an
+aged widow, or a Sunday-school in Dakota, or a Good Will Farm in Maine,
+is a splendid kind of good.
+
+This chapter is about cements and rivets. It is also about the two
+little schoolmarms.
+
+"Let us take Mrs. Vanderhoven's pitcher to town when we go to call on
+the judge with father," said Amy. "Perhaps it can be mended."
+
+"It may be mended, but I do not think it will hold water again."
+
+"There is a place," said Amy, "where a patient old German frau, with the
+tiniest little bits of rivets that you can hardly see, and the stickiest
+cement you ever did see, repairs broken china. Archie was going to sell
+the pitcher. His mother had said he might. A lady at the hotel had
+promised him five dollars for it as a specimen of some old pottery or
+other. Then he leaped that hedge, caught his foot, fell, and that was
+the end of that five dollars, which was to have gone for a new lexicon
+and I don't know what else."
+
+"It was a fortunate break for Archie. His leg will be as strong as ever,
+and we'll make fifty dollars by our show. I call such a disaster an
+angel in disguise."
+
+"Mrs. Vanderhoven cried over the pitcher, though. She said it had almost
+broken her heart to let Archie take it out of the house, and she felt it
+was a judgment on her for being willing to part with it."
+
+"Every one has some superstition, I think," said Amy.
+
+Judge Hastings, a tall, soldierly gentleman, with the bearing of a
+courtier, was delighted with the girls, and brought his three little
+women in their black frocks to see their new teachers.
+
+"I warn you, young ladies," he said, "these are spoiled babies. But they
+will do anything for those they love, and they will surely love you. I
+wish them to be thoroughly taught, especially music and calisthenics.
+Can you teach them the latter?"
+
+He fixed his keen, blue eyes on Grace, who colored under the glance, but
+answered bravely:
+
+"Yes, Judge, I can teach them physical culture and music, too, but I
+won't undertake teaching them to count or to spell."
+
+"I'll take charge of that part," said Amy, fearlessly.
+
+Grace's salary was fixed at one thousand dollars, Amy's at five hundred,
+a year, and Grace was to come to her pupils three hours a day for five
+days every week, Amy one hour a day for five days.
+
+"We'll travel together," said Amy, "for I'll be at the League while you
+are pegging away at the teaching of these tots after my hour is over."
+
+If any girl fancies that Grace and Amy had made an easy bargain I
+recommend her to try the same tasks day in and day out for the weeks of
+a winter. She will discover that she earns her salary. Lucy, Helen and
+Madge taxed their young teachers' utmost powers, but they did them
+credit, and each month, as Grace was able to add comforts to her home,
+to lighten her father's burdens, to remove anxiety from her mother, she
+felt that she would willingly have worked harder.
+
+The little pitcher was repaired so that you never would have known it
+had been broken. Mrs. Vanderhoven set it in the place of honor on top of
+her mantel shelf, and Archie, now able to hobble about, declared that he
+would treasure it for his children's children.
+
+One morning a letter came for Grace. It was from the principal of a
+girls' school in a lovely village up the Hudson, a school attended by
+the daughters of statesmen and millionaires, but one, too, which had
+scholarships for bright girls who desired culture, but whose parents had
+very little money. To attend Miss L----'s school some girls would have
+given more than they could put into words; it was a certificate of good
+standing in society to have been graduated there, while mothers prized
+and girls envied those who were students at Miss L----'s for the
+splendid times they were sure to have.
+
+"Your dear mother," Miss L---- wrote, "will easily recall her old
+schoolmate and friend. I have heard of you, Grace, through my friend,
+Madame Necker, who was your instructress in Paris, and I have two
+objects in writing. One is to secure you as a teacher in reading for an
+advanced class of mine. The class would meet but once a week; your
+office would be to read to them, interpreting the best authors, and to
+influence them in the choice of books adapted for young girls."
+
+Grace held her breath. "Mother!" she exclaimed, "is Miss L---- in her
+right mind?"
+
+"A very level-headed person, Grace. Read on."
+
+"I have also a vacant scholarship, and I will let you name a friend of
+yours to fill it. I would like a minister's daughter. Is there any dear
+little twelve-year-old girl who would like to come to my school, and
+whose parents would like to send her, but cannot afford so much expense?
+Because, if there is such a child among your friends, I will give her a
+warm welcome. Jane Wainwright your honored mother, knows that I will be
+too happy thus to add a happiness to her lot in life."
+
+Mother and daughter looked into each other's eyes. One thought was in
+both.
+
+"Laura Raeburn!" they exclaimed together.
+
+Laura Raeburn it was who entered Miss L----'s, her heart overflowing
+with satisfaction, and so the never-shaken friendship between
+Wishing-Brae and the Manse was made stronger still, as by cements and
+rivets.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+THE TOWER ROOM.
+
+
+As time went on, Grace surely did not have to share a third part of her
+sisters' room, did she? For nothing is so much prized by most girls as a
+room of their very own, and a middle daughter, particularly such a
+middle daughter as Grace Wainwright, has a claim to a foothold--a wee
+bit place, as the Scotch say--where she can shut herself in, and read
+her Bible, and say her prayers, and write her letters, and dream her
+dreams, with nobody by to see. Mrs. Wainwright had been a good deal
+disturbed about there being no room for Grace when she came back to
+Highland, and one would have been fitted up had there been an extra cent
+in the family exchequer. Grace didn't mind, or if she did, she made
+light of her sacrifice; but her sisters felt that they ought to help her
+to privacy.
+
+Eva and Miriam came over to the Manse to consult us in the early days.
+
+I suggested screens.
+
+"You can do almost anything with screens and portieres," I said. "One
+of the loveliest rooms I ever saw in my life is in a cottage in the
+Catskills, where one large room is separated into drawing-room, library,
+and dining-room, and sometimes into a spare chamber, as well, by the
+judicious use of screens."
+
+"Could we buy them at any price we could pay?" said Miriam.
+
+"Buy them, child? What are you talking about? You can make them. You
+need only two or three clothes-horses for frames, some chintz, or even
+wall-paper or calico, a few small tacks, a little braid, a hammer and
+patience."
+
+After Grace was fairly launched on her career as teacher, mother
+suggested one day that the tower-room at Wishing-Brae could be
+transformed into a maiden's bower without the spending of much money,
+and that it would make an ideal girl's room, "just the nest for Grace,
+to fold her wings in and sing her songs--a nest with an outlook over the
+tree-tops and a field of stars above it."
+
+"Mother dear, you are too poetical and romantic for anything, but I
+believe," said Amy, "that it could be done, and if it could it ought."
+
+The tower at Wishing-Brae was then a large, light garret-room, used for
+trunks and boxes. Many a day have I spent there writing stories when I
+was a child, and oh! what a prospect there was and is from those
+windows--prospect of moors and mountains, of ribbons of rivers and white
+roads leading out to the great world. You could see all Highland from
+the tower windows. In sunny days and in storms it was a delight beyond
+common just to climb the steep stairs and hide one's self there.
+
+We put our heads together, all of us. We resolved at last that the
+tower-room should be our birthday gift to Grace. It was quite easy to
+contrive and work when she was absent, but not so easy to keep from
+talking about the thing in her presence. Once or twice we almost let it
+out, but she suspected nothing, and we glided over the danger as over
+ice, and hugged ourselves that we had escaped. We meant it for a
+surprise.
+
+First of all, of course, the place had to be thoroughly cleaned, then
+whitewashed as to the ceiling, and scoured over and over as to the
+unpainted wood. Archie Vanderhoven and all the brothers of both families
+helped manfully with this, and the two dear old doctors both climbed up
+stairs every day, and gave us their criticism. When the cleanness and
+the sweetness were like the world after the deluge, we began to furnish.
+The floor was stained a deep dark cherry red; Mrs. Raeburn presented the
+room with a large rug, called an art-square; Mrs. Vanderhoven made
+lovely ecru curtains of cheese-cloth, full and flowing, for the windows
+and these were caught back by cherry ribbons.
+
+We had a regular controversy over the bed, half of us declaring for a
+folding bed, that could be shut up by day and be an armoire or a
+book-case, the others wanting a white enameled bed with brass knobs and
+bars. The last party carried the day.
+
+The boys hung some shelves, and on these we arranged Grace's favorite
+books. Under the books in the window were her writing-table and her
+chair and foot-stool. The Vanderhovens sent a pair of brass andirons for
+the fireplace, and the little Hastings children, who were taken into the
+secret, contributed a pair of solid silver candlesticks.
+
+Never was there a prettier room than that which we stood and surveyed
+one soft April morning when it was pronounced finished. Our one regret
+was that dear Mrs. Wainwright could not see it. But the oldest of the
+Raeburn boys brought over his camera and took a picture of the room, and
+this was afterwards enlarged and framed for one of Mrs. Wainwright's own
+birthdays.
+
+"Mother dear," said Grace one evening, as they sat together for a
+twilight talk, "do you believe God always answers prayers?"
+
+"Always, my child."
+
+"Do you think we can always see the answers, feel sure He has heard
+us?"
+
+"The answers do not always come at once, Grace, nor are they always what
+we expect, but God sends us what is best for us, and He gives us
+strength to help answer the prayers we make. Sometimes prayers are
+answered before they leave our lips. Don't you know that in every 'Oh,
+my Father,' is the answer, 'Here, my child?'"
+
+"I used to long, years ago," said Grace, "when I was as happy as I could
+be with dear uncle and auntie, just to fly to you and my father. It
+seemed sometimes as if I would die just to get home to Highland again,
+and be one of the children. Uncle and auntie want me to go abroad with
+them this summer, just for a visit, and they are so good they will take
+one of my sisters and one of the Raeburns; but I hate to think of the
+ocean between you and me again even for a few weeks."
+
+"You must go, dearie," said Mrs. Wainwright. "The dear uncle is part
+owner of you, darling, and he's very generous; but he can never have you
+back to keep."
+
+"No, indeed."
+
+"Which of the Raeburns do you suppose they can best spare?"
+
+"I don't know which they would choose to spare, but Amy will be the one
+to go. She was born under a fortunate star, and the rest will help to
+send her."
+
+"I'd like Frances myself."
+
+"Frances is the stay-at-home daughter. She cannot be spared. It will be
+Amy, and I will let Miriam go with you, and Eva, who is the youngest,
+can wait for her turn some other day."
+
+"Is that Burden's cart going down the lane?" inquired Grace, looking out
+of the window. "It's queer how many errands Mr. Burden's had here
+lately. I believe he's been investing in another cart, or else he has
+painted the old one. Business must be brisk. There come papa, and Dr.
+Raeburn with him. Why, mother, all the Raeburns are coming! If there is
+to be company, I might have been told."
+
+"So might I," said Mrs. Wainwright, with spirit. "Hurry, Grace, bring me
+some cologne and water to wash my face and hands, and give me my
+rose-pink wrapper. Turn the key in the door, dearie. An invalid should
+never be seen except looking her best. You can slip away and get into a
+tea gown before you meet them, if they are coming to supper. Whose
+birthday is it? This seems to be a surprise party."
+
+"Why, mamma--it's my birthday; but you don't think there's anything on
+foot that I don't know of--do you, dearest?"
+
+"I wouldn't like to say what I think, my pet. There, the coast is
+clear. Run away and change your gown. Whoever wished to see me now may
+do so. The queen is ready to give audience. Just wheel my chair a little
+to the left, so that I can catch the last of that soft pink after-glow."
+
+"And were you really entirely unprepared, Grace," said the girls later,
+"and didn't you ever for a single moment notice anything whatsoever we
+were doing?"
+
+"Never for one instant. I missed my Tennyson and my French Bible, but
+thought Eva had borrowed them, and in my wildest imagination I never
+dreamed you would furnish a lovely big room at the top of the house all
+for me, my own lone self. It doesn't seem right for me to accept it."
+
+"Ah, but it is quite right!" said her father, tenderly, "and here is
+something else--a little birthday check from me to my daughter. Since
+you came home and set me on my feet I've prospered as never before. Eva
+has collected ever so many of my bills, and I've sold a corner of the
+meadow for a good round sum, a corner that never seemed to me to be
+worth anything. I need not stay always in your debt, financially, dear
+little woman."
+
+"But, papa."
+
+"But, Grace."
+
+"Your father is right, Grace," said the sweet low tones of Mrs.
+Wainwright, even and firm. "Through God's goodness you have had the
+means and disposition to help him, but neither of us ever intended to
+rest our weight always on your shoulders. You needn't work so hard
+hereafter, unless you wish, to."
+
+"Thank you, dear papa," said Grace. "I shall work just as hard, because
+I love to work, and because I am thus returning to the world some part
+of what I owe it; and next year, who knows, I may be able to pay Eva's
+bills at Miss L----'s."
+
+Eva jumped up and down with delight.
+
+Then came supper, served in Mrs. Wainwright's room, and after that music
+and a long merry talk, and at last, lest Mrs. Wainwright should be
+weary, the Raeburns took their way homeward over the lane and across the
+fields to the Manse.
+
+Grace from the tower window watched them going, the light of the moon
+falling in golden clearness over the fields and farms just waiting for
+spring,
+
+    "To serve the present age
+     My calling to fulfill,
+
+she whispered to herself. "Good-night, dear ones all, good-night," she
+said a little later climbing up the tower stair to her new room.
+
+"God bless you, middle daughter," said her father's deep tones.
+
+Soft, hushed footsteps pattered after the girl, step by step. She
+thought herself all alone as she shut the door, but presently a cold
+nose was thrust against her hand, a furry head rubbed her knee. Fido,
+the pet fox-terrier, had determined for his part to share the
+tower-room.
+
+
+
+
+The Golden Bird.[2]
+
+BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM.
+
+
+In times gone by there was a king who had at the back of his castle a
+beautiful pleasure garden, in which stood a tree that bore golden
+apples. As the apples ripened they were counted, but one morning one was
+missing. Then the king was angry, and he ordered that a watch should be
+kept about the tree every night. Now the king had three sons, and he
+sent the eldest to spend the whole night in the garden; so he watched
+till midnight, and then he could keep off sleep no longer, and in the
+morning another apple was missing. The second son had to watch the
+following night; but it fared no better, for when twelve o'clock had
+struck he went to sleep, and in the morning another apple was missing.
+Now came the turn of the third son to watch, and he was ready to do so;
+but the king had less trust in him, and believed he would acquit himself
+still worse than his brothers, but in the end he consented to let him
+try. So the young man lay down under the tree to watch, and resolved
+that sleep should not be master. When it struck twelve something came
+rushing through the air, and he saw in the moonlight a bird flying
+towards him, whose feathers glittered like gold. The bird perched upon
+the tree, and had already pecked off an apple, when the young man let
+fly an arrow at it. The bird flew away, but the arrow had struck its
+plumage, and one of its golden feathers fell to the ground; the young
+man picked it up, and taking it next morning to the king, told him what
+had happened in the night. The king called his council together, and all
+declared that such a feather was worth more than the whole kingdom.
+
+"Since the feather is so valuable," said the king, "one is not enough
+for me; I must and will have the whole bird."
+
+So the eldest son set off, and, relying on his own cleverness, he
+thought he should soon find the golden bird. When he had gone some
+distance he saw a fox sitting at the edge of a wood and he pointed his
+gun at him. The fox cried out:
+
+"Do not shoot me and I will give you good counsel. You are on your way
+to find the golden bird, and this evening you will come to a village in
+which two taverns stand facing each other. One will be brightly lighted
+up, and there will be plenty of merriment going on inside; do not mind
+about that, but go into the other one, although it will look to you
+very uninviting."
+
+"How can a silly beast give anyone rational advice?" thought the king's
+son, and let fly at the fox, but he missed him, and he stretched out his
+tail and ran quick into the wood. Then the young man went on his way,
+and toward evening he came to the village and there stood the two
+taverns; in one singing and revelry were going on, the other looked
+quite dull and wretched. "I should be a fool," said he, "to go into that
+dismal place while there is anything so good close by." So he went into
+the merry inn and there lived in clover, quite forgetting the bird and
+his father and all good counsel.
+
+As time went on, and the eldest son never came home, the second son set
+out to seek the golden bird. He met with the fox, just as the eldest
+did, and received good advice from him without attending to it. And when
+he came to the two taverns his brother was standing and calling to him
+at the window of one of them, out of which came sounds of merriment; so
+he could not resist, but went and reveled to his heart's content.
+
+And then, as time went on, the youngest son wished to go forth and to
+try his luck, but his father would not consent.
+
+"It would be useless," said he; "he is much less likely to find the bird
+than his brothers, and if any misfortune were to happen to him he would
+not know how to help himself, his wits are none of the best."
+
+But at last, as there was no peace to be had, he let him go. By the side
+of the wood sat the fox, begged him to spare his life and gave him good
+counsel. The young man was kind and said:
+
+"Be easy, little fox, I will do you no harm."
+
+"You shall not repent of it," answered the fox, "and that you may get
+there all the sooner get up and sit on my tail."
+
+And no sooner had he done so than the fox began to run, and off they
+went over stock and stone, so that the wind whistled in their hair. When
+they reached the village the young man got down and, following the fox's
+advice, went into the mean looking tavern without hesitating, and there
+he passed a quiet night. The next morning, when he went out into the
+field, the fox, who was sitting there already, said:
+
+"I will tell you further what you have to do. Go straight on until you
+come to a castle, before which a great band of soldiers lie, but do not
+trouble yourself about them, for they will be all asleep and snoring;
+pass through them and forward into the castle, and go through all the
+rooms until you come to one where there is a golden bird hanging in a
+wooden cage. Near at hand will stand empty a golden cage of state, but
+you must beware of taking the bird out of his ugly cage and putting him
+into the fine one; if you do so you will come to harm."
+
+After he had finished saying this the fox stretched out his tail again,
+and the king's son sat him down upon it; then away they went over stock
+and stone, so that the wind whistled through their hair. And when the
+king's son reached the castle he found everything as the fox had said;
+and he at last entered the room where the golden bird was hanging in a
+wooden cage, while a golden one was standing by; the three golden
+apples, too, were in the room. Then, thinking it foolish to let the
+beautiful bird stay in that mean and ugly cage, he opened the door of
+it, took hold of it and put it in the golden one. In the same moment the
+bird uttered a piercing cry. The soldiers awaked, rushed in, seized the
+king's son and put him in prison. The next morning he was brought before
+a judge, and, as he confessed everything, condemned to death. But the
+king said that he would spare his life on one condition, that he should
+bring him the golden horse whose paces were swifter than the wind, and
+that then he should also receive the golden bird as a reward.
+
+So the king's son set off to find the golden horse, but he sighed and
+was very sad, for how should it be accomplished? And then he saw his
+old friend, the fox, sitting by the roadside.
+
+"Now, you see," said the fox, "all this has happened because you would
+not listen to me. But be of good courage, I will bring you through, and
+will tell you how to get the golden horse. You must go straight on until
+you come to a castle, where the horse stands in his stable; before the
+stable-door the grooms will be lying, but they will all be asleep and
+snoring, and you can go and quietly lead out the horse. But one thing
+you must mind--take care to put upon him the plain saddle of wood and
+leather, and not the golden one, which will hang close by, otherwise it
+will go badly with you."
+
+Then the fox stretched out his tail and the king's son seated himself
+upon it, and away they went over stock and stone until the wind whistled
+through their hair. And everything happened just as the fox had said,
+and he came to the stall where the golden horse was, and as he was about
+to put on him the plain saddle he thought to himself:
+
+"Such a beautiful animal would be disgraced were I not to put on him the
+good saddle, which becomes him so well."
+
+However, no sooner did the horse feel the golden saddle touch him than
+he began to neigh. And the grooms all awoke, seized the king's son and
+threw him into prison. The next morning he was delivered up to justice
+and condemned to death, but the king promised him his life, and also to
+bestow upon him the golden horse if he could convey thither the
+beautiful princess of the golden castle.
+
+With a heavy heart the king's son set out, but by great good luck he
+soon met with the faithful fox.
+
+"I ought now to leave you to your own fate," said the fox, "but I am
+sorry for you, and will once more help you in your need. Your way lies
+straight up to the golden castle. You will arrive there in the evening,
+and at night, when all is quiet, the beautiful princess goes to the
+bath. And as she is entering the bathing-house go up to her and give her
+a kiss, then she will follow you and you can lead her away; but do not
+suffer her first to go and take leave of her parents, or it will go ill
+with you."
+
+Then the fox stretched out his tail, the king's son seated himself upon
+it, and away they went over stock and stone, so that the wind whistled
+through their hair. And when he came to the golden castle all was as the
+fox had said. He waited until midnight, when all lay in deep sleep, and
+then as the beautiful princess went to the bathing-house he went up to
+her and gave her a kiss, and she willingly promised to go with him, but
+she begged him earnestly, and with tears, that he would let her first
+go and take leave of her parents. At first he denied her prayer, but as
+she wept so much the more, and fell at his feet, he gave in at last. And
+no sooner had the princess reached her father's bedside than he, and all
+who were in the castle, waked up and the young man was seized and thrown
+into prison.
+
+The next morning the king said to him:
+
+"Thy life is forfeit, but thou shalt find grace if thou canst level that
+mountain that lies before my windows, and over which I am not able to
+see; and if this is done within eight days thou shalt have my daughter
+for a reward."
+
+So the king's son set to work and dug and shoveled away without ceasing,
+but when, on the seventh day, he saw how little he had accomplished, and
+that all his work was as nothing, he fell into great sadness and gave up
+all hope. But on the evening of the seventh day the fox appeared and
+said:
+
+"You do not deserve that I should help you, but go now and lie down to
+sleep and I will do the work for you."
+
+The next morning when he awoke and looked out of the window the mountain
+had disappeared. The young man hastened full of joy to the king and told
+him that his behest was fulfilled, and, whether the king liked it or
+not, he had to keep his word and let his daughter go.
+
+So they both went away together, and it was not long before the
+faithful fox came up to them.
+
+"Well, you have got the best first," said he, "but you must know that
+the golden horse belongs to the princess of the golden castle."
+
+"But how shall I get it?" asked the young man.
+
+"I am going to tell you," answered the fox. "First, go to the king who
+sent you to the golden castle and take to him the beautiful princess.
+There will then be very great rejoicing. He will willingly give you the
+golden horse, and they will lead him out to you; then mount him without
+delay and stretch out your hand to each of them to take leave, and last
+of all to the princess, and when you have her by the hand swing her upon
+the horse behind you and off you go! Nobody will be able to overtake
+you, for that horse goes swifter than the wind."
+
+And so it was all happily done, and the king's son carried off the
+beautiful princess on the golden horse. The fox did not stay behind, and
+he said to the young man:
+
+"Now, I will help you to get the golden bird. When you draw near the
+castle where the bird is let the lady alight, and I will take her under
+my care; then you must ride the golden horse into the castle yard, and
+there will be great rejoicing to see it, and they will bring out to you
+the golden bird; as soon as you have the cage in your hand you must
+start off back to us, and then you shall carry the lady away."
+
+The plan was successfully carried out, and when the young man returned
+with the treasure the fox said:
+
+"Now, what will you give me for my reward?"
+
+"What would you like?" asked the young man.
+
+"When we are passing through the wood I desire that you should slay me,
+and cut my head and feet off."
+
+"That were a strange sign of gratitude," said the king's son, "and I
+could not possibly do such a thing."
+
+Then said the fox:
+
+"If you will not do it, I must leave you; but before I go let me give
+you some good advice. Beware of two things; buy no gallows-meat, and sit
+at no brookside." With that the fox ran off into the wood.
+
+The young man thought to himself, "that is a wonderful animal, with most
+singular ideas. How should any one buy gallows-meat? and I am sure I
+have no particular fancy for sitting by a brookside."
+
+So he rode on with the beautiful princess, and their way led them
+through the village where his two brothers had stayed. There they heard
+great outcry and noise, and when he asked what it was all about, they
+told him that two people were going to be hanged. And when he drew near
+he saw that it was his two brothers, who had done all sorts of evil
+tricks, and had wasted all their goods. He asked if there were no means
+of setting them free.
+
+"Oh, yes! if you will buy them off," answered the people; "but why
+should you spend your money in redeeming such worthless men?"
+
+But he persisted in doing so; and when they were let go they all went on
+their journey together.
+
+After a while they came to the wood where the fox had met them first,
+and there it seemed so cool and sheltered from the sun's burning rays
+that the two brothers said:
+
+"Let us rest here for a little by the brook, and eat and drink to
+refresh ourselves."
+
+The young man consented, quite forgetting the fox's warning, and he
+seated himself by the brookside, suspecting no evil. But the two
+brothers thrust him backwards into the brook, seized the princess, the
+horse, and the bird, and went home to their father.
+
+"Is not this the golden bird that we bring?" said they; "and we have
+also the golden horse, and the princess of the golden castle."
+
+Then there was great rejoicing in the royal castle, but the horse did
+not feed, the bird did not chirp, and the princess sat still and wept.
+
+The youngest brother, however, had not perished. The brook was by good
+fortune dry, and he fell on the soft moss without receiving any hurt,
+but he could not get up again. But in his need the faithful fox was not
+lacking; he came up running and reproached him for having forgotten his
+advice.
+
+"But I cannot forsake you all the same," said he. "I will help you back
+again into daylight." So he told the young man to grasp his tail and
+hold on to it fast, and so he drew him up again.
+
+"Still you are not quite out of all danger," said the fox; "your
+brothers, not being certain of your death, have surrounded the woods
+with sentinels, who are to put you to death if you let yourself be
+seen."
+
+A poor beggar-man was sitting by the path and the young man changed
+clothes with him, and went clad in that wise into the king's courtyard.
+Nobody knew him, but the bird began to chirp, and the horse began to
+feed, and the beautiful princess ceased weeping.
+
+"What does this mean?" said the king, astonished.
+
+The princess answered:
+
+"I cannot tell, except that I was sad and now I am joyful; it is to me
+as if my rightful bridegroom had returned."
+
+Then she told him all that happened, although the two brothers had
+threatened to put her to death if she betrayed any of their secrets. The
+king then ordered every person who was in the castle to be brought
+before him, and with the rest came the young man like a beggar in his
+wretched garments; but the princess knew him and greeted him lovingly,
+falling on his neck and kissing him. The wicked brothers were seized and
+put to death, and the youngest brother was married to the princess and
+succeeded to the inheritance of his father.
+
+But what became of the poor fox? Long afterward the king's son was going
+through the wood and the fox met him and said:
+
+"Now, you have everything that you can wish for, but my misfortunes
+never come to an end, and it lies in your power to free me from them."
+And once more he prayed the king's son earnestly to slay him and cut off
+his head and feet. So at last he consented, and no sooner was it done
+than the fox was changed into a man, and was no other than the brother
+of the beautiful princess; and thus he was set free from a spell that
+had bound him for a long, long time.
+
+And now, indeed, there lacked nothing to their happiness as long as they
+lived.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 2: This is a fairy tale, pure and simple, but we must have a
+little nonsense now and then, and it does us no harm, but on the
+contrary much good.]
+
+
+
+
+Harry Pemberton's Text.
+
+BY ELIZABETH ARMSTRONG.
+
+
+"He that hath clean hands and a pure heart."
+
+Harry Pemberton went down the street whistling a merry tune. It was one
+I like very much, and you all know it, for it has been played by street
+bands and organs, and heard on every street corner for as many years as
+you boys have been living on the earth. "Wait till the clouds roll by,
+Jenny, wait till the clouds roll by." The lads I am writing this story
+for are between ten and fourteen years old, and they know that the
+clouds do once in a while roll around a person's path, and block the
+way, because fogs and mists _can_ block the way just as well as a big
+black stone wall.
+
+At the corner of the street a red-headed, blue-eyed lad, a head taller
+than Harry, joined the latter. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and
+walked beside him.
+
+"Well," said this last comer, whose name was Frank Fletcher, "will your
+mother let you go, Harry, boy? I hope she doesn't object."
+
+"But she does," said Harry, quickly "Mother doesn't think it right for
+us to start on such an expedition and she says all parents will say the
+same."
+
+"Of all things, where can the harm be? Only none of the rest of us have
+to ask leave, as you do."
+
+"Mother," said Harry, disregarding this speech, "is of the opinion that
+to enter a man's garden by the back gate, when the family are all away,
+is breaking into his premises and going where you haven't a right, and
+is burglary, and if you take flowers or anything, then it's stealing.
+Mere vulgar stealing, she says."
+
+"Why, Harry Pemberton, how dare you say _stealing_ to me?" And Frank's
+red hair stood up like a fiery flame.
+
+"I'm only quoting mother. Don't get mad, Frank."
+
+"Does your mother know it's to decorate the soldiers' graves that we
+want the flowers, and that Squire Eliot won't be home till next year,
+and there are hundreds 'n hundreds of flowers fading and wasting and
+dying on his lawn and garden, and furthermore that he'd _like_ the
+fellows to decorate the cemetery with his flowers? Does she know that, I
+say?" and the blue-eyed lad gesticulated fiercely.
+
+"All is," replied Harry, firmly, "that you boys can go ahead if you
+like, but mother won't let me, and you must count me out."
+
+"All is," said Frank, mimicking Harry's tone, "you're a mother-boy, and
+we fellows won't have anything more to do with you." So they sent him to
+Coventry, which means that they let him alone severely. They had begun
+to do it already, which was why he whistled so merrily to show he did
+not mind.
+
+I never for my part could see that there was any disgrace in being a
+mother-boy. But I suppose a boy thinks he is called babyish, if the name
+is fastened on him. As Harry went on his errand, he no longer whistled,
+at least he didn't whistle much. And as he went to school next day, and
+next day, and next day, and found himself left out in the cold, he would
+have been more than the usual twelve-year-old laddie if he had not felt
+his courage fail. But he had his motto text to bolster him up.
+
+"Clean hands, Harry, and a pure heart," said Mrs. Pemberton, cheerfully.
+"It cannot be right to steal flowers or anything else even to decorate
+the graves of our brave soldiers."
+
+And so the time passed--kite time, top time, hoop time, marble time.
+
+It was the evening before Memorial Day, at last.
+
+There was a good deal of stirring in the village. It was splendid
+moonlight. You could see to read large print. A whole crowd of boys met
+at the store and took their way across lots to the beautiful old Eliot
+place. The big house, with its broad porch and white columns, stood out
+in the glory of the moon. The gardens were sweet in the dew. Violets,
+lilies, roses, lilacs, snow-drops, whole beds of them.
+
+Every boy, and there were ten of them, had a basket and a pair of
+shears. They meant to get all the flowers they could carry and despoil
+the Eliot place, if necessary, to make the cemetery a grand looking spot
+to-morrow, when the veterans and the militia should be out with bands of
+music and flying flags, and the Governor, no less, coming in person to
+review the troops and make a speech in the very place where his own
+father was buried.
+
+In went the boys. Over the stile, up the paths, clear on toward the
+front portico. They separated into little groups and began to cut their
+flowers, the Eliots' flowers, all the Eliots in Europe, and not a soul
+on hand to save their property.
+
+Suddenly the boys were arrested and paralyzed with fright.
+
+An immense form leaped from behind the house and a deep-throated, baying
+bark resounded in a threatening roar. Juno, Squire Eliot's famous
+mastiff, the one that had taken a prize at the dog show, bounded out
+toward the marauders. They turned to fly, when a stern voice bade them
+stop.
+
+"You young rapscallions! You trespassers! You rascals! Stop this
+instant or I'll thrash every one of you! Humph!" said Squire Eliot,
+brandishing his cane, as the boys stopped and tremblingly came forward.
+"This is how my neighbors' sons treat my property when I'm away. Line up
+there against the fence, every one of you. _Charge_, Juno! _Charge_,
+good dog!"
+
+Squire Eliot looked keenly at the boys, every one of whom he knew.
+
+"Solomon's methods are out of fashion," he said, "and if I send you boys
+home the chances are that your fathers won't whip you as you deserve to
+be whipped, so I'll do the job myself. Fortunate thing I happened to
+change my plans and come home for the summer, instead of going away as I
+expected. I heard there was a plan of this sort on foot, but I didn't
+believe it till I overheard the whole thing talked of in the village
+this afternoon. Well, boys, I'll settle with you once for all, and then
+I'll forgive you, but you've got to pay the penalty first. Frank, hold
+out your hand."
+
+But just then there was an interruption. Lights appeared in the windows
+and a dainty little lady came upon the scene. The boys knew Grandmother
+Eliot, who wore her seventy years with right queenly grace, and never
+failed to have a kind word for man, woman and child in the old home.
+
+"Eugene," she called to the Squire, imperatively, "I can't allow this,
+my son. The boys have been punished enough. Their fault was in not
+seeing that you cannot do evil that good may come. Let every one of
+these young gentlemen come here to me. I want to talk with them."
+
+Now it is probable that most of the boys would have preferred a sharp
+blow or two from the Squire's cane to a reproof from his gentle old
+mother, whose creed led her to heap coals of fire on the heads of those
+who did wrong. But they had no choice. There was no help for it. They
+had to go up, shears, baskets and all, and let old Lady Eliot talk to
+them; and then, as they were going away, who should come out but a
+white-capped maid, with cake and lemonade, to treat the young
+depredators to refreshments.
+
+"There's only one fellow in our class who deserves cake and lemonade,"
+exclaimed Frank, "and he isn't here. We've all treated him meaner than
+dirt. We've been horrid to him, because he wouldn't join us in this. Now
+he's out of this scrape and we're in."
+
+"Harry Pemberton," said Squire Eliot, who had locked up his cane, and
+was quite calm, "Harry Pemberton, that's Lida Scott's boy, mother. Lida
+would bring him up well, I'm sure. Well, he shall have a lot of roses
+to-morrow to lay on Colonel Pemberton's grave. Isn't that fair, boys?"
+
+"Yes, yes," assented they all, with eagerness.
+
+"And as you have by your own admission treated Harry rather badly,
+suppose you make it up to him by coming here in the morning, carrying
+the roses to his house, and owning that you regret your behavior."
+
+It was rather a bitter pill, but the boys swallowed it bravely.
+
+Next day, as Harry and his mother, laden with dog-wood boughs and
+branches of lilac, set out for the little spot most sacred to them on
+earth, they met a procession which was headed by Frank Fletcher. The
+procession had a drum and a flag, and it had roses galore.
+
+"Honest roses, Harry," said Frank. "The Squire is at home and he gave
+them to us for you. Let me tell you about it."
+
+The story was told from beginning to end. Then Mrs. Pemberton said,
+"Now, boys, take for your everlasting motto from this time forth, 'Clean
+hands and a pure heart.'"
+
+
+
+
+Our Cats.
+
+
+The first cat of our recollection was a large, sleek, black and white
+animal, the pet and plaything of our very early childhood. Tom, as we
+called him, seemed much attached to us all, but when we moved from the
+house of his kittendom and attempted to keep him with us, we found that
+we had reckoned without our host; all our efforts were in vain; the cat
+returned to its former home and we gave it up as lost to us.
+
+The months sped along and we children had almost forgotten our late
+favorite, when one day he came mewing into the yard, and in so pitiable
+a condition that all our hearts were moved for him. He was in an
+emaciated state distressing to behold, and then one of his hind legs was
+broken so that the bone protruded through the skin. The dear old cat was
+at once fed, but it was soon seen that his injury was incurable, and our
+truly humane father said the only thing to do with Tom was to put him
+out of his misery. This was done, but we have ever kept in mind the cat
+that would not go from its first home, even with those it loved, and yet
+remembered those friends and came to them in trouble. I should have
+stated above, that the two homes were less than a mile apart.
+
+Morris was another black and white cat, named Morris from our minister,
+who gave him to brother. He was a fine fellow, and would jump a bar four
+feet from the floor. But brother obtained a pair of tiny squirrels, the
+striped squirrels, and feared that Morris would catch them, for he was
+all alert when he spied them, and so the cat was sent to the house of a
+friend, as this friend wished to possess him. Morris was let out of the
+basket in which he was carried into our friend's kitchen, and giving one
+frightened look at his surroundings he sprang up the chimney and was
+never seen by any of his early friends again. Poor Morris, we never knew
+his fate!
+
+One cat we named Snowball, just because he was so black. This cat was an
+unprincipled thief, and all unknown to us a person who disliked cats in
+general, and thieving cats in particular, killed Snowball.
+
+We once owned an old cat and her daughter, and when the mother had
+several kittens and the daughter had but one, the grandmother stole the
+daughter's kitten, and though the young mother cried piteously she never
+regained possession of her child. Again, once when our brother was
+ploughing he overturned a rabbit's nest, and taking the young rabbits
+therefrom he gave them to the cat, who had just been robbed of her
+kittens. Pussy was at once devoted to these babies, and cared for them
+tenderly, never for a moment neglecting them. Nevertheless, they died,
+one by one; their foster mother's care was not the kind they needed.
+
+Of all our cats we speak most tenderly of Friskie. She was brought when
+a kitten to our farm home, and if ever cat deserved eulogy it was she. A
+small cat with black coat and white breast and legs, not particularly
+handsome, but thoroughly good and very intelligent. The children played
+with her as they would; she was never known to scratch them, but would
+show her disapproval of any rough handling by a tap with her tiny velvet
+paw. She was too kind to scratch them.
+
+Friskie grew up with Trip, our little black and tan dog, and though Trip
+was selfish with her, Friskie loved him and showed her affection in
+various ways. If the dog came into the house wet with dew or rain the
+dear little cat would carefully dry him all off with her tongue, and
+though he growled at her for her officiousness she would persevere till
+the task was accomplished, and then the two would curl up behind the
+stove and together take a nap.
+
+When we became the owner of a canary, Friskie at once showed feline
+propensities; she wanted that bird, and saw no reason why she should be
+denied it. But when, from various tokens, Friskie learned that we
+valued it, she never again evinced any desire for the canary. And when,
+afterward, we raised a nest of birdlings, the little cat never attempted
+to touch them; no, not even when one flew out of doors and alighted
+almost at her feet. Instead of seizing it, Friskie watched us as we
+captured and returned it to the cage.
+
+The writer of this story became ill with extreme prostration, and now
+Friskie showed her affection in a surprising manner. Each morning she
+came into our room with a tidbit, such as she was sure was toothsome:
+Mice, rats, at one time a half-grown rabbit, and, at length, a bird.
+
+It was warm weather, the room windows were open, and being upon the
+first floor, when Friskie brought in her offerings they were seized and
+thrown from the window to the ground. At this she would spring after the
+delicacy and bring it back in a hurry, determined that it should be
+eaten, mewing and coaxing just as she might with her kittens. That the
+food was not accepted evidently distressed her. When she came with the
+little bird, she uttered her usual coaxing sound, and then, when it was
+unheeded, she sprung upon the bed and was about to give it to the
+invalid, who uttered a scream of fright. At this dear Friskie fled from
+the room and, we think, she never brought another treat. It was useless
+to try to treat a person so unappreciative.
+
+At one time, when Friskie was the proud mother of four pretty kittens,
+she was greatly troubled with the liberties that young Herbert, aged
+three, took with her family. The little boy didn't want to hurt the tiny
+creatures, but he would hold them and play with them.
+
+Mother cat bore this for a time, and then carried the kittens away to
+the barn, and hid them where no one but herself could find them.
+
+While these babies were yet young Herbert was taken away for a visit.
+Strange to say, that upon the morning of the child's departure Friskie
+came leading the little ones down to the house. They could walk now, and
+at first she came part of the distance with three of them, stopped,
+surveyed her group and went back for the remaining kitten. All we have
+told is strictly true; it was evident that the cat knew when the
+disturber of her peace was gone, and also evident that she knew how many
+were her children.
+
+Friskie died at the age of twelve, the most lovable and intelligent cat
+we have ever known.
+
+Of late we have had two maltese cats in our kitchen, one old, the other
+young. The old cat has been jealous and cross with the young one, while
+the young cat has been kind and pleasant with her companion. One day the
+young cat, Friskie's namesake, sat and meowed piteously. We were
+present, and for a time did not notice her, for she is very
+demonstrative. What was our surprise to see her go to a low closet in
+the room and lie down, stretch her paws over her head, and by an effort
+pull open the door to release the old cat, who had accidentally been
+shut up in this closet.
+
+The old cat is always very reticent, and would not ask to be let out.
+Her usual way of asking to have a door open is to tap upon it with her
+paw. She scarcely ever meows.
+
+We might have enlarged upon these incidents, but have simply told facts.
+
+
+
+
+    Outovplace.
+
+
+    There's a very strange country called Outovplace,
+      (I've been there quite often, have you?)
+    Where the people can't find the things they want,
+      And hardly know what to do.
+
+    If a boy's in a hurry, and wants his cap,
+      Or a basin to wash his face,
+    He never can find that on its nail,
+      Or this in its proper place.
+
+    His shoe hides far away under the lounge;
+      His handkerchief's gone astray;
+    Oh! how can a boy get off to school,
+      If he's always bothered this way?
+
+    Oh! a very queer country is Outovplace--
+      (Did you say you had been there?)
+    Then you've seen, like me, a slate on the floor
+      And a book upon the stair.
+
+    You think they are easy to find, at least!
+      O, yes! if they would but stay
+    Just there till they're wanted; but then they don't;
+      Alas! that isn't the way.
+
+    When a boy wants his hat, he sees his ball,
+      As plain as ever can be;
+    But when he has time for a game, not a sign
+      Of bat or a ball finds he.
+
+    Sometimes a good man is just off to the train,
+      (That is, it is time to go);
+    And he can't put his hand on his Sunday hat!
+      It surely must vex him, I know.
+
+    If somebody wants to drive a nail,
+      It's "Where is the hammer, my dear?"
+    And so it goes, week in, week out,
+      And truly all the year.
+
+    How 'twould gladden the women of Outovplace,
+      If the boys and girls themselves
+    Should wake up some morning determined quite
+      To use hooks, closets and shelves.
+
+
+
+
+The Boy Who Dared to Be a Daniel.
+
+BY S. JENNIE SMITH.
+
+
+Sunday-school was dismissed and the children were going, some in one
+direction, some in another, to their homes. The majority of them were
+chatting merrily of the proposed strawberry festival, but one little
+fellow seemed to be engrossed with more serious thoughts. He was alone
+and apparently unconscious of the nearness of his companions until a lad
+about his own age joined him and inquired, "Say, Ralph, what are you
+thinking of? You look as wise as an owl."
+
+"I should hope I was a little bit wiser than a bird," answered Ralph,
+with a smile. "But I was just awondering, Ned, if I could be brave
+enough to go into the lion's den like Daniel did. I wouldn't like to
+stop praying to God, but it would be pretty hard to make up your mind to
+face a lot of lions."
+
+"Yes, indeed; but then father says that we don't need grace to do those
+hard things until we are called upon to do them, and then if we ask God,
+He will give us the strength we require. All we've got to do is to
+attend to the duty nearest us, and seek for strength for that."
+
+Ned was the minister's son and had enjoyed many an instructive talk with
+his kind father.
+
+"He says, too, that we are often called upon to face other kinds of
+lions in this life, if we persist as we ought in doing the right. But
+here we part, Ralph, good-bye," and the boy turned off into a side road,
+leaving Ralph again alone.
+
+Ralph's way led through a quiet country lane, for his home was beyond
+the village where nearly all of his companions lived.
+
+"Well, I won't have to go into the lion's den to-day," he said to
+himself, as he sauntered along; "and when I do I guess God will give me
+the strength," and with this thought a gayer frame of mind came to him.
+"But it must be grand to be a Daniel."
+
+Just then two large boys crept stealthily from the bushes that lined one
+side of the road and looked anxiously around. "Say, John, there's
+Ralph," one of them muttered. "He'll tell we didn't go to Sunday-school.
+Let's frighten him into promising not to."
+
+"Hello!" cried John, in a loud voice.
+
+Ralph turned and was surprised to see his brothers approaching him.
+
+"Going home?" one of them asked.
+
+"Why, yes, Tom, ain't you?"
+
+"No, not yet; and if any one inquires where we are, just mention that
+we've been to Sunday-school and will be home soon."
+
+Ralph's eyes opened wide in astonishment. "But you didn't go to
+Sunday-school," he replied, "because your teacher came and asked me
+where you were, and I told her I didn't know; I thought you were
+coming."
+
+"Well, it isn't any of your business whether we went or not," growled
+John. "All you've got to do is to say we were there if you're asked."
+
+"I can't tell a lie about it, can I?"
+
+"Yes, you can, if you just make up your mind to do it."
+
+"But I won't tell a lie about it," said Ralph, sturdily.
+
+"No, I suppose you'd rather get your brothers in a scrape. You know what
+will happen if we're found out."
+
+Ralph hesitated. He was an affectionate child and disliked to see
+anybody in trouble, especially his own brothers, but he had a very
+decided opinion that he was in the right, and therefore concluded to
+speak the truth at all hazards.
+
+"I'm just as sorry as I can be," he returned, sadly, "and I'll beg papa
+to forgive you and say I know you won't ever do it again, but if they
+ask me I can't tell a lie about it."
+
+"You won't, eh, little saint?" cried John, angrily, grabbing his
+brother's arm. "Now just promise to do as we say, or we'll pitch you
+into that deep pond over there."
+
+Ralph was too young to realize that this was only an idle threat, and he
+was very much frightened, yet in that moment of terror the thought of
+Daniel in the lion's den flashed through his mind and gave him the
+strength that he had not dared to hope for. He saw in an instant that he
+had come to his temptation and his den of lions, and he felt that as God
+had protected Daniel in that far-away time, He would now protect him.
+Ralph had never learned to swim, and he was in fear of the big frogs and
+other creatures that inhabit ponds, but he did not flinch. With a
+boldness that surprised even himself, he looked steadily at his brother
+and replied, "You cannot frighten me into doing that wrong thing. I will
+not pray to the image of falsehood that you have set up."
+
+It was now his brothers' turn to be astonished. They had never thought
+of Ralph as anything but a timid, little boy who could be overcome by
+the slightest threat, and for a moment they were at a loss what to say.
+Of course, Ralph was merely repeating some of his teacher's words, but
+they were not aware of that fact, and consequently wondered at his
+remarks. Finally John managed to stammer, "Do--do you want to go in that
+pond?"
+
+"No manner of hurt was found upon him because he believed in his God,"
+continued Ralph, with his mind still on his Sunday-school; "God delivers
+His faithful ones in time of trouble."
+
+Turning away, John was about to walk off, but Tom detained him. "Wait a
+moment, John," he said, and then the others noticed that there were
+tears in his eyes. "I want to tell my brave little brother that I honor
+him for sticking to the truth. As for me, I shall confess to father, and
+promise not to repeat the offence."
+
+"I am with you," John replied. "Come Ralph, we'll go together now and
+hereafter. We need never be afraid to go where a Daniel leads."
+
+
+
+
+Little Redcap.[3]
+
+BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM.
+
+
+There was once a sweet little maid, much beloved by everybody, but most
+of all by her grandmother, who never knew how to make enough of her.
+Once she sent her a little cap of red velvet, and as it was very
+becoming to her, and she never wore anything else, people called her
+Little Redcap. One day her mother said to her:
+
+"Come, Little Redcap, here are some cakes and a flask of milk for you to
+take to your grandmother; she is weak and ill, and they will do her
+good. Make haste and start before it grows hot, and walk properly and
+nicely, and don't run, or you might fall and break the flask of milk and
+there would be none left for grandmother. And when you go into her room,
+don't forget to say, 'Good morning' instead of staring about you."
+
+"I will be sure to take care," said Little Redcap to her mother, and
+gave her hand upon it. Now the grandmother lived away in the wood, half
+an hour's walk from the village, and when Little Redcap had reached the
+wood, she met the wolf; but as she did not know what a bad sort of
+animal he was, she did not feel frightened.
+
+"Good day, Little Redcap," said he.
+
+"Thank you kindly, Wolf," answered she.
+
+"Where are you going so early, Little Redcap?"
+
+"To my grandmother's."
+
+"What are you carrying under your apron?"
+
+"Cakes and milk; we baked yesterday; and my grandmother is very weak and
+ill, so they will do her good, and strengthen her."
+
+"Where does your grandmother live, Little Redcap?"
+
+"A quarter of an hour's walk from here; her house stands beneath the
+three oak trees, and you may know it by the hazel bushes," said Little
+Redcap. The wolf thought to himself:
+
+"That tender young thing would be a delicious morsel, and would taste
+better than the old one; I must manage somehow to get both of them."
+
+Then he walked beside little Redcap for a little while, and said to her
+softly and sweetly:
+
+"Little Redcap, just look at the pretty flowers that are growing all
+round you, and I don't think you are listening to the song of the
+birds; you are posting along just as if you were going to school, and it
+is so delightful out here in the wood."
+
+Little Redcap glanced round her, and when she saw the sunbeams darting
+here and there through the trees, and lovely flowers everywhere, she
+thought to herself:
+
+"If I were to take a fresh nosegay to my grandmother, she would be very
+pleased, and it is so early in the day that I shall reach her in plenty
+of time;" and so she ran about in the wood, looking for flowers. And as
+she picked one she saw a still prettier one a little farther off, and so
+she went farther and farther into the wood. But the wolf went straight
+to the grandmother's house and knocked at the door.
+
+"Who is there?" cried the grandmother.
+
+"Little Redcap," he answered, "and I have brought you some cake and some
+new milk. Please open the door."
+
+"Lift the latch," cried the poor old grandmother, feebly; "I am too weak
+to get up."
+
+So the wolf lifted the latch, and the door flew open, and he fell on the
+grandmother and ate her up without saying one word. Then he drew on her
+clothes, put on her cap, lay down in her bed and drew the curtains, the
+old wretch that he was.
+
+Little Redcap was all this time running about among the flowers, and
+when she had gathered as many as she could hold; she remembered her
+grandmother, and set off to go to her. She was surprised to find the
+door standing wide open, and when she came inside she felt very strange
+and thought to herself:
+
+"Oh, dear, how uncomfortable I feel, and I was so glad this morning to
+go to my grandmother!"
+
+And when she said "Good morning!" there was no answer. Then she went up
+to the bed and drew back the curtains; there lay the grandmother with
+her cap pulled over her eyes, so that she looked very odd.
+
+"Oh, grandmother, what large ears you have got!"
+
+"The better to hear you with."
+
+"Oh, grandmother, what great eyes you have got!"
+
+"The better to see you with."
+
+"Oh, grandmother, what large hands you have got!"
+
+"The better to take hold of you with, my dear."
+
+"But, grandmother, what a terrible large mouth you have got!"
+
+"The better to devour you!" And no sooner had the wolf said this than he
+made one bound from the bed and swallowed up poor Little Redcap.
+
+Then the wolf, having satisfied his hunger, lay down again in the bed,
+went to sleep and began to snore loudly. The huntsman heard him as he
+was passing by the house and thought:
+
+"How the old lady snores--I would better see if there is anything the
+matter with her."
+
+Then he went into the room and walked up to the bed, and saw the wolf
+lying there.
+
+"At last I find you, you old sinner!" said he; "I have been looking for
+you for a long time." And he made up his mind that the wolf had
+swallowed the grandmother whole, and that she might yet be saved. So he
+did not fire, but took a pair of shears and began to slit up the wolf's
+body. When he made a few snips Little Redcap appeared, and after a few
+more snips she jumped out and cried, "Oh, dear, how frightened I have
+been, it is so dark inside the wolf!"
+
+And then out came the old grandmother, still living and breathing. But
+Little Redcap went and quickly fetched some large stones, with which she
+filled the wolf's body, so that when he waked up, and was going to rush
+away, the stones were so heavy that he sank down and fell dead.
+
+They were all three very much pleased. The huntsman took off the wolf's
+skin and carried it home to make a fur rug. The grandmother ate the
+cakes and drank the milk and held up her head again, and Little Redcap
+said to herself that she would never again stray about in the wood
+alone, but would mind what her mother told her, nor talk to strangers.
+
+It must also be related how a few days afterward, when Little Redcap was
+again taking cakes to her grandmother, another wolf spoke to her, and
+wanted to tempt her to leave the path; but she was on her guard, and
+went straight on her way, and told her grandmother how that the wolf had
+met her and wished her good-day, but had looked so wicked about the eyes
+that she thought if it had not been on the high road he would have
+devoured her.
+
+"Come," said the grandmother, "we will shut the door, so that he may not
+get in."
+
+Soon after came the wolf knocking at the door, and calling out, "Open
+the door, grandmother, I am Little Redcap, bringing you cakes." But they
+remained still and did not open the door. After that the wolf slunk by
+the house, and got at last upon the roof to wait until Little Redcap
+should return home in the evening; then he meant to spring down upon her
+and devour her in the darkness. But the grandmother discovered his plot.
+Now, there stood before the house a great stone trough, and the
+grandmother said to the child: "Little Redcap, I was boiling sausages
+yesterday, so take the bucket and carry away the water they were boiled
+in and pour it into the trough."
+
+And Little Redcap did so until the great trough was quite full. When
+the smell of the sausages reached the nose of the wolf he snuffed it up
+and looked around, and stretched out his neck so far that he lost his
+balance and began to slip, and he slipped down off the roof straight in
+the great trough and was drowned. Then Little Redcap went cheerfully
+home and came to no harm.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[Footnote 3: Every boy and girl should read this pretty fairy story.]
+
+
+
+
+New Zealand Children.
+
+
+New Zealand children are pretty, dark-eyed, smooth-cheeked little
+creatures, with clear skins of burnt umber color, and the reddest mouths
+in the world, until the girl grows up and her mother tattooes her lips
+blue, for gentility's sake.
+
+All day they live in the open air, unless during a violent storm. But
+they are perfectly healthy and very clean, for the first thing they do
+is to plunge into the sea water. Besides this, they take baths in warm
+springs that abound everywhere, and which keep their skins in good
+order. As to their breakfast, I am afraid that often they have some very
+unpleasant things to eat--stale shark, for instance, and sour corn
+bread--so sour that you could not swallow it, and boiled fern root, or
+the pulp of fern stems, or crawfish.
+
+Even if their father had happened to cut down a tall palm the day
+before, in order to take what white people call the "palm cabbage" out
+of it's very top, I'm afraid he would not share this dainty with the
+children. I am not sure he would offer even their mother a bite. It
+would be literally a bite if he did, for when people get together to
+eat in New Zealand, one takes a piece of something from the basket in
+which food is served, bites out a mouthful and hands it to the next, who
+does the same, and passes it to his neighbor, and so on until it is all
+gone, and some other morsel is begun upon.
+
+Sixty or seventy years ago New Zealanders had never seen a pig or any
+animal larger than a cat. But about that time, one Captain King, feeling
+that a nation without pork and beans and succotash could never come to
+any good, brought them some Indian corn and some beans, and taught them
+how to plant and cultivate them, and shortly sent them some fine pigs,
+not doubting but that they would understand what to do with them without
+instruction.
+
+However, the New Zealanders had no idea what the pigs were sent for, and
+everybody asked everybody else about it, until one--the smart fellow who
+knows it all--said that he had heard all about them from a sailor, and
+that they were horses! Oh, certainly they were horses! The sailor had
+described them perfectly--long heads, pointed ears, broad backs, four
+legs, and a tail. They were to ride upon. Great chiefs always rode them
+where the sailors lived.
+
+So the New Zealand chiefs mounted the pigs, and when Captain King came
+to see how everything was going on, they had ridden them to death--all
+but a few obstinate ones, who had eaten up the maize as soon as it grew
+green, and finished up the beans by way of dessert before the vines were
+halfway up the poles.
+
+Captain King did not despair, however. He took two natives home with
+him, taught them all about the cultivation of maize, and the rearing of
+pigs; and pork is now as popular in New Zealand as it is in Cincinnati.
+You can hardly take a walk without meeting a mother-pig and a lot of
+squealing piglets; and people pet them more than they ever did or ever
+will in their native lands. Here, you know, when baby wants something to
+play with, some one finds him a kitten, a ball of white floss, or a
+little Maltese, or a black morsel with green eyes and a red mouth; but
+in New Zealand they give him a very, very young pig, smooth as a kid
+glove, with little slits of eyes, and his curly tail twisted up into a
+little tight knot; and the brown baby hauls it about and pulls its ears
+and goes to sleep hugging it fast; and there they lie together, the
+piglet grunting comfortably, the baby snoring softly, for hours at a
+time.
+
+It is pleasanter to think of a piggy as a pet than as pork, and
+pleasanter still to know that the little New Zealanders have something
+really nice to eat--the finest sweet potatoes that grow anywhere.
+
+They say that sweet potatoes, which they call _kumere_, is the food
+good spirits eat, and they sing a song about them, and so do the
+mothers, which is very pretty. The song tells how, long ago, Ezi-Ki and
+his wife, Ko Paui, sailing on the water in a boat, were wrecked, and
+would have been drowned but for good New Zealanders, who rescued them.
+And Ko Paui saw that the children had very little that was wholesome for
+them to eat, and showed her gratitude by returning, all by herself, to
+Tawai, to bring them seeds of the _kumere_. And how storms arose and she
+was in danger, but at last arrived in New Zealand safely and taught them
+how to plant and raise this excellent food. And every verse of the song
+ends with: "Praise the memory of beautiful Ko Paui, wife of Ezi-Ki,
+forever."
+
+Little New Zealanders run about with very little on, as a general thing,
+but they all have cloaks--they call them "mats." Their mother sits on
+the ground with a little weaving frame about two feet high before her,
+and makes them of what is called New Zealand flax. The long threads hang
+down in rows of fringes, one over the other, and shine like silk. They
+have also water-proofs, or "rain-mats," made of long polished leaves
+that shed the water. When a little New Zealand girl pulls this over her
+head she does not mind any shower. You may see a circle of these funny
+objects sitting in the pelting rain, talking to each other and looking
+just like tiny haystacks.
+
+New Zealand children have, strange to say, many toys. They swim like
+ducks, and, as I have said, revel in the natural hot baths, where they
+will sit and talk by the hour. In fact, the life of a New Zealand child
+is full of occupation, and both girls and boys are bright,
+light-hearted, and intelligent.
+
+
+
+
+The Breeze from the Peak.
+
+
+A stiff Sea Breeze was having the wildest, merriest time, rocking the
+sailboats and fluttering the sails, chasing the breakers far up the
+beach, sending the fleecy cloudsails scudding across the blue ocean
+above, making old ocean roar with delight at its mad pranks, while all
+the little wavelets dimpled with laughter; the Cedar family on the
+shore, old and rheumatic as they were, laughed till their sides ached,
+and the children shouted and cheered upon the beach. How fresh and
+strong and life-giving it was. The children wondered why it was so
+jolly, but never guessed the reason; and its song was so wonderfully
+sweet, but only the waves understood the words of the wild, strange
+melody.
+
+"I have come," it sang, "from a land far across the water. My home was
+on the mountain top, high up among the clouds. Such a white, white world
+as it was! The mountain peak hooded in snow-ermine, and the gray-white
+clouds floating all around me; and it was so very still; my voice, the
+only sound to be heard, and that was strange and muffled. But though the
+fluffy clouds were so silent, they were gay companions and full of fun;
+let them find me napping once, and, puff! Down they would send the
+feathery snow, choking and blinding me, then would come a wild chase;
+once in a mad frolic my breath parted the clouds and I saw down the
+mountain side! Never shall I forget the picture I saw that day, framed
+by the silvery clouds. I, who had known nothing but that pale stillness
+and bitter cold, for the first time saw life and color, and a
+shimmering, golden light, resting on tree and river and valley farm; do
+you wonder I forgot the mountain peak, the clouds--_everything_ that was
+behind, and, without even a last farewell, spread my wings and flew
+swiftly down the mountain side? Very soon I was far below that snowy
+cloud world, with a bright blue sky above me, and patches of red gravel
+and green moss and gray lichens beneath. Once I stopped to rest upon a
+great rock, moss-covered, and with curling ferns at its base; from its
+side flowed a crystal spring, so clear and cool that I caught up all I
+could carry to refresh me on my journey; but it assured me I need not
+take that trouble, for it was also on its way down the mountain side.
+
+"'But you have no wings,' I said. 'Are you sure of that?' answered the
+spring, and I thought she looked up in an odd way at some of my cloud
+friends, who had followed in my track; then she added: 'And, even if you
+are right, there is more than one way to reach the foot of the
+mountain; I am sure you will find me there before you.'
+
+"I could not but doubt this, for I am swifter than any bird of the air,
+but she only laughed at me as I flew on, and once, looking back, I saw
+she had started on her journey, and was creeping slowly along a tiny
+thread of water, almost hidden in the grass. I next floated upon some
+dark green trees, that sent out a spicy odor as I touched their boughs,
+and when I moved they sang a low, tuneful melody; their song was of the
+snowy mountain peak, the clouds, the bubbling spring, the sunshine and
+the green grass; yes, and there was something else, a deep undertone
+that I did not then understand, and the melody was a loom that wove them
+all into a living harmony; some of my breezes are there still, listening
+to the Pine Trees' song; but I hurried on, the grass grew green and
+luscious along my way, and the sheep, with their baby lambs, were
+pastured upon it; rills and brooks joined hands, and went racing faster
+and faster down between the rocks; one of the brooks had grown quite
+wide and deep, and as it leaped and sparkled and sang its way into the
+valley, where it flowed into a wide, foaming stream, it looked back with
+a gay laugh, and I saw in its depths the face of the little spring I had
+left far up the mountain side.
+
+"It was summer in the valley, and the air was scented with roses and
+ripening fruits. It was very warm and sultry, and I fanned the
+children's faces until they laughed and clapped their hands, crying out:
+'It's the breeze from the mountain peak! How fresh and sweet and cool it
+is.'
+
+"I rocked the baby-birds to sleep in their leafy cradles. I entered the
+houses, making the curtains flutter, and filling the rooms with my
+mountain perfume. I longed to stay forever in that beautiful summer
+land, but now the mountain stream beckoned me on. Swiftly I flew along
+its banks, turning the windmills met on the way, and swelling out the
+sails of the boats until the sailors sang for joy. On and on we
+journeyed; my mountain friend, joined by a hundred meadow-brooks, grew
+deeper and wider as it flowed along, and its breath began to have a
+queer, salty odor. One day I heard a throbbing music far off that
+sounded like the undertone in the Pine Trees' melody; then very soon we
+reached this great body of water, and, looking across, could see no sign
+of land anywhere; but still we journeyed on. I feared at first that my
+friend was lost to me, but often she laughed from the crest of the wave,
+or glistened in a white cap, cheering my way to this sunny shore; and
+now, at last, we are here, laden with treasure for each one of you. Take
+it, and be glad!"
+
+But the children did not understand the song of the Sea Breeze, nor did
+they know what made its breath so wonderfully sweet. But all day long
+they breathed in its fragrance, and gathered up the treasures brought to
+their feet by the tiny spring born up in the clouds.
+
+"It's a beautiful world," they cried.
+
+And at night, when the Sea Breeze was wakeful, and sang to the waves of
+the mountain peak, the children would lift their heads from the white
+pillows to listen, whispering softly to one another:
+
+"Hear the Sea Breeze and the ocean moaning on the shore. Are they lonely
+without us, I wonder?"
+
+
+
+
+The Bremen Town Musicians.
+
+BY THE BROTHERS GRIMM.
+
+     [When I was a child I used to love the story which is coming next.
+     It is very funny and I like it still.]
+
+
+There was once an ass whose master had made him carry sacks to the mill
+for many a long year, but whose strength began at last to fail, so that
+each day as it came found him less capable of work. Then his master
+began to think of turning him out, but the ass, guessing that something
+was in the wind that boded him no good, ran away, taking the road to
+Bremen; for there he thought he might get an engagement as town
+musician. When he had gone a little way he found a hound lying by the
+side of the road panting, as if he had run a long way.
+
+"Now, Holdfast, what are you so out of breath about!" said the ass.
+
+"Oh, dear!" said the dog, "now I am old, I get weaker every day, and can
+do no good in the hunt, so, as my master was going to have me killed, I
+have made my escape; but now, how am I to gain my living?"
+
+"I will tell you what," said the ass, "I am going to Bremen to become
+town musician. You may as well go with me, and take up music too. I can
+play the lute, and you can beat the drum."
+
+The dog consented, and they walked on together. It was not long before
+they came to a cat sitting in the road, looking as dismal as three wet
+days.
+
+"Now, then, what is the matter with you, old friend?" said the ass.
+
+"I should like to know who would be cheerful when his neck is in
+danger?" answered the cat. "Now that I am old, my teeth are getting
+blunt, and I would rather sit by the oven and purr than run about after
+mice, and my mistress wants to drown me; so I took myself off; but good
+advice is scarce, and I do not know what is to become of me."
+
+"Go with us to Bremen," said the ass, "and become town musician. You
+understand serenading."
+
+The cat thought well of the idea, and went with them accordingly. After
+that the three travelers passed by a yard, and a cock was perched on the
+gate crowing with all his might.
+
+"Your cries are enough to pierce bone and marrow," said the ass; "what
+is the matter?"
+
+"I have foretold good weather for Lady-day, so that all the shirts may be
+washed and dried; and now on Sunday morning company is coming, and the
+mistress has told the cook that I must be made into soup, and this
+evening my neck is to be wrung, so that I am crowing with all my might
+while I can."
+
+"You had better go with us, Chanticleer," said the ass. "We are going to
+Bremen. At any rate that will be better than dying. You have a powerful
+voice, and when we are all performing together it will have a very good
+effect."
+
+So the cock consented, and they went on, all four together.
+
+But Bremen was too far off to be reached in one day, and toward evening
+they came to a wood, where they determined to pass the night. The ass
+and the dog lay down under a large tree; the cat got up among the
+branches, and the cock flew up to the top, as that was the safest place
+for him. Before he went to sleep he looked all around him to the four
+points of the compass, and perceived in the distance a little light
+shining, and he called out to his companions that there must be a house
+not far off, as he could see a light, so the ass said:
+
+"We had better get up and go there, for these are uncomfortable
+quarters."
+
+The dog began to fancy a few bones, not quite bare, would do him good.
+And they all set off in the direction of the light, and it grew larger
+and brighter until at last it led them to a robber's house, all lighted
+up. The ass, being the biggest, went up to the window and looked in.
+
+"Well, what do you see?" asked the dog.
+
+"What do I see?" answered the ass; "here is a table set out with
+splendid eatables and drinkables, and robbers sitting at it and making
+themselves very comfortable."
+
+"That would just suit us," said the cock.
+
+"Yes, indeed, I wish we were there," said the ass. Then they consulted
+together how it should be managed so as to get the robbers out of the
+house, and at last they hit on a plan. The ass was to place his forefeet
+on the window-sill, the dog was to get on the ass' back, the cat on the
+top of the dog, and lastly the cock was to fly up and perch on the cat's
+head. When that was done, at a given signal, they all began to perform
+their music. The ass brayed, the dog barked, the cat mewed, and the cock
+crowed; then they burst through into the room, breaking all the panes of
+glass. The robbers fled at the dreadful sound; they thought it was some
+goblin, and fled to the wood in the utmost terror. Then the four
+companions sat down to the table, and made free with the remains of the
+meal, and feasted as if they had been hungry for a month. And when they
+had finished they put out the lights, and each sought out a
+sleeping-place to suit his nature and habits. The ass laid himself down
+outside on the dunghill, the dog behind the door, the cat on the hearth
+by the warm ashes, and the cock settled himself in the cockloft, and as
+they were all tired with their long journey they soon fell fast asleep.
+
+When midnight drew near, and the robbers from afar saw that no light was
+burning, and that everything appeared quiet, their captain said to them
+that he thought that they had run away without reason, telling one of
+them to go and reconnoitre. So one of them went and found everything
+quite quiet; he went into the kitchen to strike a light, and taking the
+glowing fiery eyes of the cat for burning coals, he held a match to them
+in order to kindle it. But the cat, not seeing the joke, flew into his
+face, spitting and scratching. Then he cried out in terror, and ran to
+get out at the back door, but the dog, who was lying there, ran at him
+and bit his leg; and as he was rushing through the yard by the dunghill
+the ass struck out and gave him a great kick with his hindfoot; and the
+cock, who had been awakened with the noise, and felt quite brisk, cried
+out, "Cock-a-doodle-doo!"
+
+Then the robber got back as well as he could to his captain, and said,
+"Oh dear! in that house there is a gruesome witch, and I felt her breath
+and her long nails in my face; and by the door there stands a man who
+stabbed me in the leg with a knife, and in the yard there lies a black
+spectre, who beat me with his wooden club; and above, upon the roof,
+there sits the justice, who cried, 'bring that rogue here!' And so I ran
+away from the place as fast as I could."
+
+From that time forward the robbers never returned to that house, and the
+four Bremen town musicians found themselves so well off where they were,
+that there they stayed. And the person who last related this tale is
+still living, as you see.
+
+
+
+
+A Very Queer Steed, and Some Strange Adventures.
+
+TOLD AFTER ARIOSTO BY ELIZABETH ARMSTRONG.
+
+
+An Italian poet named Ariosto, who lived before our grandfathers were
+born, has told some very funny stories, one of which I will tell you.
+Not contented with mounting his heroes on ordinary horses, he gave one
+of them a splendid winged creature to ride; a fiery steed with eyes of
+flame, and the great pinions of an eagle. This creature's name was
+Hippogrif. Let me tell you how Prince Roger caught the Hippogrif, and
+then you will want to know something about his queer journey. I may as
+well tell you that Prince Roger belonged to the Saracens, and that he
+loved a lady of France named Bradamante, also that an old enchanter had
+captured both the prince and the lady and gotten them into his power.
+They of course were planning a way of escape, and hoped to go off
+together, and be married, and live happily ever after, but this was not
+the intention of their captor. The two prisoners, who were allowed a
+good deal of liberty, were standing together one day, when Bradamante
+said to Roger:
+
+"Look! there is the old man's Hippogrif still standing quietly by us. I
+have a mind to catch him and take a ride on him, for he is mine by
+right of conquest since I have overcome his master." So she went toward
+the winged steed and stretched out her hand to take him by the bridle;
+but the Hippogrif darted up into the air, and flew a hundred yards or so
+away before he settled again upon the ground. Again and again she tried
+to catch him, but he always flew off before she could touch him, and
+then came down to earth a little distance away, where he waited for her
+to get near him again, just as you may see a butterfly flit from one
+cabbage-row to another, and always manage to keep a yard or two ahead of
+the boy who chases it. At last, however, he alighted close by the side
+of Roger, whereupon the Prince cried to his lady: "I will catch him and
+give him a ride to break him in for you;" and, seizing hold of the
+bridle in his left hand, he vaulted on to the back of the Hippogrif, who
+stood still without attempting to escape, as if to acknowledge that here
+he had found his proper master. But the Prince was no sooner fairly in
+the saddle than his strange steed shot up fifty feet straight into the
+air, and, taking the bit between his teeth, with a dozen flaps of his
+mighty wings carried his unwilling rider far away over the mountains and
+out of sight of the unfortunate Bradamante.
+
+You must know that though Roger was quite unable to hold his Hippogrif,
+and soon gave up the attempt in despair, the winged monster was really
+guided by something stronger than bit or bridle, and every motion of his
+headlong flight was controlled by the will of an invisible master. The
+whole affair, in fact, was the work of the wonderful enchanter Atlas,
+who was still persuaded that great dangers awaited his beloved Prince in
+the land of France, and determined to use all his cunning to remove him
+to a place of safety. With this design he had watched the noble lovers
+from his hiding place, and guided every movement of the Hippogrif by the
+mere muttering of spells; and by the same means he still steered the
+creature's course through the air, for he was so powerful an enchanter
+that he could make his purpose take effect from one end of the earth to
+the other. In the old days of fairy lore, enchanters were very numerous,
+and always found plenty to do.
+
+Roger had a firm seat and a heart that knew no fear, and at any other
+time would have enjoyed nothing better than such an exciting adventure;
+but now he was terribly vexed at being separated again from his beloved
+Bradamante, and at being carried away from the land where Agramant his
+King and the Emperor Charlemagne were mustering all their forces for the
+great struggle. However, there was no help for it, for the Hippogrif
+flew through the air at such a pace that he soon left the realms of
+Europe far behind him, and after a flight of a few hours he had carried
+the Prince half round the globe. Roger in fact found himself hovering
+over the Fortunate Islands, which lie in the far Eastern seas beyond the
+shores of India. Here he checked his course, and descended in wide
+circles to the earth, and at length alighted on the largest and most
+beautiful island of all the group. Green meadows and rich fields were
+here watered by clear streams; and lovely groves of palm and myrtle,
+cedar and banyan, spread their thick shade over the gentle slopes of
+hill, and offered a refuge from the heat of the mid-day sun. Birds of
+paradise flashed like jewels in the blazing light, and modest brown
+nightingales sang their sweet refrain to the conceited parrots, who sat
+admiring themselves among the branches; while under the trees hares and
+rabbits frisked merrily about, and stately stags led their graceful does
+to drink at the river banks. Upon this fertile tract, which stretched
+down to the very brink of the sea, the Hippogrif descended; and his feet
+no sooner touched the ground than Prince Roger leaped from his back, and
+made fast his bridle to the stem of a spreading myrtle-bush. Then he
+took off his helmet and cuirass, and went to bathe his face and hands in
+the cool waters of the brook; for his pulses were throbbing from his
+swift ride, and he wanted nothing so much as an hour or two of repose.
+Such rapid flying through the air is very wearying.
+
+Could he have retained his wonderful horse, there is no knowing what
+splendid adventures might have befallen him, but at a critical moment,
+the Hippogrif vanished, and Prince Roger had to fare as best he could on
+foot. After a time he met Bradamante again, he left the Saracen religion
+and became a Christian, and he and Bradamante were united in wedlock. He
+had formerly been a heathen.
+
+Bradamante had a cousin named Astulf, who finally by a series of events
+became the owner of the winged steed, and on this animal he made the
+queerest trip ever heard of, a journey to the Mountains of the Moon. The
+Hippogrif soared up and up, and up, till tall palms looked like bunches
+of fern beneath him, and he penetrated belts of thick white clouds, and
+finally drew his bridle rein on summits laid out in lovely gardens,
+where flowers and fruit abounded, and the climate was soft and balmy as
+that of June. The traveler walked through a fine grove, in the centre of
+which rose a stately palace of the purest ivory, large enough to shelter
+a nation of kings within its walls, and ornamented throughout with
+carving more exquisite than that of an Indian casket.
+
+While Astulf was gazing on this scene of splendor he was approached by
+a man of noble and courteous aspect, dressed in the toga of an ancient
+Roman, and bound about the brows with a laurel chaplet, who gave him
+grave and kindly salutation, saying: "Hail, noble Sir Duke, and marvel
+not that I know who you are, or that I expected you to-day in these
+gardens. For this is the Earthly Paradise, where poets have their
+dwelling after death; and I am the Mantuan VIRGIL, who sang the
+deeds of AEneas, and was the friend of the wise Emperor Augustus. But if
+you wish to know the reason of your coming hither, it is appointed for
+you to get back the lost wits of the peerless Count Roland, whose senses
+have been put away in the moon among the rest of the earth's missing
+rubbish. Now the mountains on the top of which we stand are called the
+Mountains of the Moon, because they are the only place from which an
+ascent to the moon is possible; and this very night I intend to guide
+you thither on your errand. But first, I pray you, take your dinner with
+us in our palace, for you have need of refreshment to prepare you for so
+strange a journey." I need hardly tell you that Astulf was delighted at
+being chosen to go to the moon on so worthy a mission, and thanked the
+noble poet a thousand times for his courtesy and kindness. But Virgil
+answered: "It is a pleasure to be of any service to such valiant
+warriors as Count Roland and yourself;" and thereupon he took the Duke
+through the shady alleys to the ivory palace which stood in the midst of
+the garden.
+
+Here was Astulf conducted with much ceremony to a refectory where a
+banquet was spread. The great doors were thrown open, and the company of
+poets ranged themselves in two rows, while their King passed down
+between their ranks. He was a majestic old man with curly beard and
+hair, and his broad forehead was furrowed with lines that betokened a
+life of noble thought; but alas! he was totally blind, and leaned upon
+the shoulder of a beautiful Greek youth who guided him. Every head was
+bowed reverently as he passed, and Virgil whispered to his guest: "That
+is HOMER, the Father and King of poets."
+
+At the end of the refectory was a dais with a table at which Homer took
+his seat, while another long table stretched down the middle of the
+hall; but Astulf saw with surprise that three places were laid on the
+upper board, though the King was apparently to sit there alone. But
+Virgil explained the reason, and said: "You must understand, Sir Duke,
+that it is our custom to lay a place for every poet who will ever ascend
+to this Earthly Paradise; and as yet there is none here worthy to sit
+beside our Father Homer. But after some five hundred and fifty years the
+seat at his left hand will be taken by the Florentine DANTE,
+who will find here the rest and happiness denied to him in his lifetime.
+The place on the right of the King, however, will remain vacant three
+hundred years more; but then it will be filled by a countryman of your
+own, and SHAKESPEARE will receive the honor due to him as the
+third great poet of the world." With these words Virgil took his seat at
+the head of the lower table, and motioned Astulf to an empty place at
+his right hand, saying: "This seat also will remain a long while vacant,
+being kept for another of your countrymen, who will come hither after
+more than a thousand years. He will be reviled and slandered in his
+lifetime; but after his death the very fools who abused him will pretend
+to admire and understand him, while here among his brethren he will be
+welcomed with joy and high honor." So Astulf sat in the seat of this
+poet to be honored in the future, and made a hearty dinner off nectar
+and ambrosia, "which are mighty fine viands," as he afterward told his
+friends at home; "but a hungry man, on the whole, would prefer good
+roast beef and a slice of plum pudding for a steady diet." Dinner being
+over, the pilgrim was led by the obliging poet to a pathway past the
+silent and lonesome River of Oblivion, where most mortal names and fames
+are forever lost, only a few being rescued from its waves and set on
+golden scrolls in the temple of Immortality.
+
+Now when they had looked on for a while at this notable sight they left
+the River Oblivion and proceeded to the Valley of Lost Lumber. It was a
+long though narrow valley shut in between two lofty mountain ridges, and
+in it were stored away all the things which men lose or waste on earth.
+Here they found an infinite number of lovers' sighs, beyond which lay
+the useless moments lost in folly and crime, and the long wasted leisure
+of ignorant and idle men. Next came the vain desires and foolish wishes
+that can never take effect, and these were heaped together in such
+quantities that they blocked up the greater part of the valley. Here,
+too, were mountains of gold and silver which foolish politicians throw
+away in bribing voters to return them to Congress; a little farther on
+was an enormous pile of garlands with steel gins concealed among their
+flowers, which Virgil explained to be flatteries; while a heap of
+grasshoppers which had burst themselves in keeping up their shrill,
+monotonous chirp, represented, he said, the dedications and addresses
+which servile authors used to write in praise of unworthy patrons. In
+the middle of the valley lay a great pool of spilt broth, and this
+signified the alms which rich men are too selfish to give away in their
+lifetime but bequeath to charities in their wills, to be paid out of
+money they can no longer use. Next Astulf came upon numbers of beautiful
+dolls from Paris, which little girls throw aside because they prefer
+their dear old bundles of rags with beads for eyes; and one of the
+biggest hillocks in all the place was formed of a pile of knives lost
+out of careless schoolboys' pockets.
+
+Now, when Astulf grew old and had boys and girls of his own, they used
+to clamber on his knee in the twilight and ask for a story, and oh! how
+they wished for the Hippogrif. Sometimes the old knight said that the
+Hippogrif was dead, but I have known people to shut their eyes and climb
+on his back, and cling to his mane, and go flying over the ocean and the
+hills clear through to the other end of the world. For Hippogrif is only
+a name for Fancy, and the Valley of Lost Lumber and the River of
+Oblivion and the Temple of Immortality exist for every one of us.
+
+
+
+
+    Freedom's Silent Host.
+
+    BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+    There are many silent sleepers
+      In our country here and there,
+    Heeding not our restless clamor,
+      Bugle's peal nor trumpet's blare.
+        Soft they slumber,
+      Past forever earthly care.
+
+    O'er their beds the grasses creeping
+      Weave a robe of royal fold,
+    And the daisies add their homage,
+      Flinging down a cloth of gold.
+        Soft they slumber,
+      Once the gallant and the bold.
+
+    Oft as Spring, with dewy fingers,
+      Brings a waft of violet,
+    Sweet arbutus, dainty primrose,
+      On their lowly graves we set.
+        Soft they slumber,
+      We their lives do not forget.
+
+    Childish hands with rose and lily
+      Showering the furrows green,
+    Childish songs that lift and warble
+      Where the sleepers lie serene
+         (Soft they slumber)
+      Tell how true our hearts have been.
+
+    Wave the dear old flag above them,
+      Play the sweet old bugle call,
+    And because they died in honor
+      O'er them let the flowerets fall.
+        Soft they slumber,
+      Dreaming, stirring not at all.
+
+    Freedom's host of silent sleepers,
+      Where they lie is holy ground,
+    Heeding not our restless clamor,
+      Musket's rattle, trumpet's sound.
+        Soft they slumber,
+      Ever wrapped in peace profound.
+
+
+
+
+Presence of Mind.
+
+BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+Such a forlorn little sunbonnet bobbing here and there among the bean
+poles in the garden back of Mr. Mason's house! It seemed as if the blue
+gingham ruffles and the deep cape must know something about the troubled
+little face they hid away, for they hung in a limp fashion that was
+enough to tell anybody who saw them just how badly the wearer of the
+sunbonnet was feeling. She had, as she thought, more than her share of
+toil and trouble in this busy world, and to-day she had a specially good
+reason to carry a heavy heart in her little breast.
+
+All Morningside was in a perfect flutter of anticipation and excitement.
+There had never been a lawn party in the little village before, and
+Effie Dean, twelve years old to-day, was to have a lawn party, to which
+every child for miles, to say nothing of a gay troop of cousins and
+friends from the city, had been invited. Everybody was going, of course.
+
+The Deans had taken for the season a beautiful old homestead, the owners
+of which were in Europe. They were having gala times there, and they
+managed to draw all the young folks of the village in to share them.
+All, indeed, except one little girl. Cynthia Mason did not expect to go
+to many festivities, but with her whole heart she longed to see what a
+lawn party might be. The very name sounded beautiful to her, and she
+said it over and over wistfully as she went slowly down the door-yard
+between the tigerlilies and the hollyhocks, through the rough gate which
+hung so clumsily on its leathern hinges, and, with her basket by her
+side, began her daily task of picking beans.
+
+Cynthia Mason had no mother. Her father loved his little daughter and
+was kind to her, but he was a silent man, who was not very successful,
+and who had lost hope when his wife had died. People said he had never
+been the same man since then. His sister, Cynthia's Aunt Kate, was an
+active, stirring woman, who liked to be busy herself and to hurry other
+people. She kept the house as clean as a new pin, had the meals ready to
+the moment, and saw that everybody's clothing was washed and mended; but
+she never felt as if she had time for the kissing and petting which is
+to some of us as needful as our daily food.
+
+In her way she was fond of Cynthia, and would have taken good care of
+the child if she had been ill or crippled. But as her niece was
+perfectly well, and not in want of salts or senna, Aunt Kate was often
+rather tried with her fondness for dreaming in the daytime, or dropping
+down to read a bit from the newspaper in the midst of the sweeping and
+dusting.
+
+There were, in truth, a good many worries in the little weather-beaten
+house, and Miss Mason had her own trouble in making both ends meet. She
+was taking summer boarders now to help along, and when Cynthia had asked
+her if she might go to Effie's party, the busy woman had been planning
+how to crowd another family from New York into the already well-filled
+abode, so she had curtly replied:
+
+"Go to a lawn party! What nonsense! Why, no child. You cannot be
+spared." And she had thought no more about it.
+
+"Step around quickly this morning, Cynthy," she called from the buttery
+window. "Beans take for ever and ever to cook, you know. I can't imagine
+what's got into the child," she said to herself. "She walks as if her
+feet were shod with lead."
+
+The blue gingham sunbonnet kept on bobbing up and down among the bean
+poles, when suddenly there was a rush and a rustle, two arms were thrown
+around Cynthia's waist, and a merry voice said:
+
+"You never heard me, did you, till I was close by? You're going to the
+party, of course, Cynthy?"
+
+"No, Lulu," was the sad answer. "There are new boarders coming, and
+Aunt Kate cannot do without me."
+
+"I never heard of such a thing!" cried eleven-year old Lulu. "Not going!
+Cannot do without you! Why, Cynthy, it will be just splendid: tennis and
+croquet and games, and supper in a _tent_! ice cream and everything
+nice, and a birthday cake with a ring, and twelve candles on it. And
+there are to be musicians out of doors, and fireworks in the evening.
+Why, there are men hanging the lanterns in the trees now--to see where
+they ought to be hung, I suppose," said practical Lulu. "Not let you go?
+I'm sure she will, if I ask her." Lulu started bravely for the house,
+intent on pleading for her friend.
+
+But Cynthia called her back. "Don't go, Lulu, dear. Aunt Kate is very
+busy this morning. She does not think I care so much, and she won't like
+it either, if she thinks I'm spending my time talking with you, when the
+beans ought to be on the fire. A bean dinner," observed Cynthia, wisely,
+"takes so long to get ready."
+
+"Does it?" said Lulu, beginning to pick with all her might. She was a
+sweet little thing, and she hated to have her friend left out of the
+good time.
+
+As for Cynthia, the sunbonnet fell back on her neck, showing a pair of
+soft eyes swimming with tears, and a sorrowful little mouth quivering
+in its determination not to cry.
+
+"I won't be a baby!" she said to herself, resolutely. Presently there
+came a sharp call from the house.
+
+"Cynthia Elizabeth! are you never coming with those beans? Make haste,
+child, do?"
+
+Aunt Kate said "Cynthia Elizabeth" only when her patience was almost
+gone; so, with a quick answer, "Yes, Aunt Kate, I'm coming," Cynthia
+left Lulu and ran back to the buttery, sitting down, as soon as she
+reached it, to the weary task of stringing the beans.
+
+Lulu, meanwhile, who was an idle little puss--her mother's
+pet--sauntered up the road and met Effie Dean's mother, who was driving
+by herself, and had stopped to gather some late wild roses.
+
+"If there isn't Lulu Pease!" she said. "Lulu dear, won't you get those
+flowers for me? Thank you so much. And you're coming this afternoon?"
+
+"Yes, 'm," said Lulu, with a dimple showing itself in each plump cheek;
+"but I'm so very sorry, Mrs. Dean, that my dearest friend, Cynthy Mason,
+has to stay at home. Her Aunt Kate can't spare her. Cynthy _never_ can
+go anywhere nor do anything like the rest of us."
+
+"Cynthia Mason? That's the pretty child with the pale face and dark
+eyes who sits in the pew near the minister's, isn't it?" said Mrs. Dean.
+"Why, she must not stay at home to-day." And acting on a sudden impulse,
+the lady said good morning to Lulu, took a brisk turn along the road and
+back, and presently drew rein at Mr. Mason's door.
+
+She came straight into the buttery, having rapped to give notice of her
+presence, and with a compliment to Miss Mason on the excellence of her
+butter, she asked whether that lady could supply her with a few more
+pounds next week; then her eyes falling on the little figure on the
+doorstep, she said: "By-the-way, Miss Mason, your niece is to be one of
+Effie's guests to-day, is she not? Can you, as a great favor, let her
+come home with me now? I have to drive to the Centre on some errands,
+and Cynthia, who is a helpful little woman, I can see, can be of so much
+use if you will part with her for the day. It will be very neighborly of
+you to say yes. I know it's a good deal to ask, but my own girls are
+very busy, and I wish you would let me keep Cynthia until to-morrow.
+I'll take good care of her, and she shall be at home early. Lend her to
+me, please?"
+
+Mrs. Dean, with much gentleness of manner, had the air of a person to
+whom nobody ever says no, and Cynthia could hardly believe she heard
+aright when her aunt said, pleasantly:
+
+"Cynthia's a good girl, but she's like all children--she needs to be
+kept at her work. She can go if you really wish it, Mrs. Dean, and I'll
+send for my cousin Jenny to stay here to-day. There are new boarders
+coming," she said, to explain her need of outside assistance. Miss Mason
+prided herself on getting through her work alone; hired help she
+couldn't afford, but she would not have had any one "under-foot," as she
+expressed it, had money been plenty with her.
+
+"You are a wonderful woman," said Mrs. Dean, surveying the spotless
+tables and walls. "You are always so brisk, and such a perfect
+housekeeper! I wish, dear Miss Mason, you could look in on us yourself
+in the evening. It will be a pretty sight."
+
+Miss Mason was gratified. "Run away, Cynthia; put on your best frock,
+and don't keep Mrs. Dean waiting," she said. In spite of her
+independence, she was rather pleased that her boarders should see the
+low phaeton at her door, the brown horse with the silver-mounted
+harness, and the dainty lady, in her delicate gray gown and driving
+gloves, chatting affably while waiting for Cynthia to dress. She offered
+Mrs. Dean a glass of her creamy milk, and it was gratefully accepted.
+
+Cynthia came back directly. Her preparations had not taken her long. Her
+"best frock" was of green delaine with yellow spots--"a perfect horror"
+the lady thought; it had been purchased at a bargain by Mr. Mason, who
+knew nothing about what was suitable for a child. Some lace was basted
+in the neck, and her one article of ornament, an old-fashioned coral
+necklace with a gold clasp, was fastened just under the lace. The stout
+country-made shoes were not becoming to the child's feet, nor was the
+rim of white stocking visible above them at all according to the present
+styles. She was pretty as a picture, but not in the least arrayed as the
+other girls would be, whether from elegant city homes or the ample farm
+houses round about.
+
+How her eyes sparkled and her color came and went when Mrs. Dean told
+her to step in and seat herself, then, following, took the reins, while
+Bonny Bess, the sagacious pony, who knew every tone of his mistress'
+voice, trotted merrily off!
+
+Having secured her little guest, Mrs. Dean thought she would give her as
+much pleasure as she could. So they took a charming drive before pony's
+head was turned to the village. The phaeton glided swiftly over smooth,
+hard roads, between rich fields of corn, over a long bridge, and at last
+rolled into Main Street, where Mrs. Dean made so many purchases that the
+vehicle was soon quite crowded with packages and bundles.
+
+"Now for home, my little one," said the lady, turning; and away they
+flew over hill and hollow till they reached the broad, wide open gates
+of the place known to everybody as Fernbrake, and skimming gaily down
+the long flower-bordered avenue, they stopped at the door of the
+beautiful house. The verandas looked inviting with their easy chairs and
+rockers, but no one was sitting there, so Cynthia followed her hostess
+shyly up the wide stairway, into a cool, airy room with white drapery at
+the windows, an upright piano standing open, and books everywhere,
+showing the taste of its occupants. Oh, those books! Cynthia's few
+story-books had been read until she knew them by heart. Though in these
+days it was seldom she was allowed to sit with a book in her hand, a
+book-loving child always manages somehow to secure a little space for
+the coveted pleasure. And here were shelves just overflowing with
+dainty, gaily covered volumes, and low cases crowded, and books lying
+about on window-seats and lounges.
+
+Mrs. Dean observed the hungry, eager gaze, and taking off the
+wide-brimmed hat with its white ribbon bow and ends, she seated the
+little girl comfortably, and put a story into her hands, telling her to
+amuse herself until Effie and Florence should come.
+
+A half-hour sped by, and then, answering the summons of a bell in the
+distance, the two daughters of the house appeared, and Cynthia was asked
+to go with them to luncheon.
+
+Mrs. Dean was a little worried about Cynthia's dress, and was revolving
+in her mind whether she might not make her look more like the other
+children by lending her for the occasion a white dress of Florrie's,
+when, to her regret, she observed that Florrie's eyes were resting very
+scornfully on the faded green delaine and the stout coarse shoes.
+
+Now if there is anything vulgar and unpardonable, it is this,
+children--that, being a hostess, you are ashamed of anything belonging
+to a guest. From the moment a guest enters your door he or she is
+sacred, and no true lady or gentlemen ever criticises, much less
+apologizes for, the dress of a visitor. Mrs. Dean was sorry to observe
+the sneer on Florrie's usually sweet face, and glancing from it to
+Cynthia's, she was struck with the contrast.
+
+Never had Cynthia in her life been seated at a table so beautiful. The
+tumblers of ruby and amber glass, the plates with their delicate fruit
+and flower decoration, every plate a picture, the bouquet in the centre
+reflected in a beautiful little round mirror, the pretty silver tubs
+filled with broken ice, the shining knives and forks, and the dainty tea
+equipage, were so charming that she felt like a princess in an enchanted
+castle. But she expressed no surprise. She behaved quietly, made no
+mistakes, used her knife and fork like a little lady, and was as
+unconscious of herself and her looks as the carnation pink is of its
+color and shape.
+
+Mrs. Dean meditated. She did not quite like to ask this child to wear a
+borrowed dress, and she felt that Florrie needed to take a lesson in
+politeness. Drawing the latter aside, she said, "My darling, I am sorry
+you should treat my little friend rudely; you have hardly spoken to
+her."
+
+"I can't help it, mamma. She isn't one of the set we go with. A little
+common thing like that! See what shoes she has on. And her hands are so
+red and coarse! They look as if she washed dishes for a living."
+
+"Something very like it is the case, I'm afraid, Florrie dear. I fear
+she has a very dull time at home. But the child is a little lady. I
+shall feel very much ashamed if she is more a lady than my own
+daughters. See, Effie has made friends with her."
+
+"And so will I," said Florrie. "Forgive me, mamma, for being so silly."
+And the three girls had a pleasant chat before the visitors came, and
+grew so confidential that Cynthia told Effie and Florrie about the one
+great shadow of her life--the mortgage which made her papa so unhappy,
+and was such a worry to poor Aunt Kate. She didn't know what it was; it
+seemed to her like some dreadful ogre always in the background ready to
+pounce on the little home. Neither Effie nor Florrie knew, but they
+agreed with her that it must be something horrid, and Effie promised to
+ask her own papa, who knew everything, all about it.
+
+"Depend upon it, Cynthia," said Effie, "if papa can do anything to help
+you, he will. There's nobody like papa in the whole world."
+
+By and by the company began to arrive, and the wide grounds were gay
+with children in dainty summer costumes and bright silken sashes.
+Musicians were stationed in an arbor, and their instruments sent forth
+tripping waltzes and polkas, and the children danced, looking like
+fairies as they floated over the velvet grass. When the beautiful old
+Virginia reel was announced, even Cynthia was led out, Mr. Dean himself,
+a grand gentleman with stately manners and a long brown beard, showing
+her the steps. Cynthia felt as if she had been dancing with the
+President. Cinderella at the ball was not less delighted, and this
+little Cinderella, too, had a misgiving now and then about to-morrow,
+when she must go home to the housework and the boarders and the
+gathering of beans for dinner. Yet that should not spoil the present
+pleasure. Cynthia had never studied philosophy, but she knew enough not
+to fret foolishly about a trouble in the future when something agreeable
+was going on now.
+
+In her mother's little well-worn Bible--one of her few
+treasures--Cynthia had seen this verse heavily underscored: "Take
+therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought
+for the things of itself." She did not know what it meant. She would
+know some day.
+
+I cannot tell you about the supper, so delicious with its flavor of all
+that was sweet and fine, and the open-air appetite the children brought
+to it.
+
+After supper came the fireworks. They were simply bewildering. Lulu, the
+staunch little friend who had gone to Cynthia's in the morning, speedily
+found her out, and was in a whirl of joy that she was there.
+
+"How did you get away?" she whispered.
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Dean came after me herself," returned Cynthia, "And Aunt Kate
+couldn't say no to _her_."
+
+Lulu gave Cynthia's hand a squeeze of sympathy.
+
+"What made you bring your mamma's shawl?" asked Cynthia, as she noticed
+that Lulu was encumbered with a plaid shawl of the heaviest woolen,
+which she kept on her arm.
+
+"Malaria," returned the child. "Mamma's _so_ afraid of it and she said
+if I felt the teentiest bit of a chill I must wrap myself up. Horrid old
+thing! I hate to lug it around with me. S'pose we sit on it, Cynthy."
+
+They arranged it on the settee, and complacently seated themselves to
+enjoy the rockets, which soared in red and violet and silvery stars to
+the sky, then fell suddenly down and went out like lamps in a puff of
+wind.
+
+Suddenly there was a stir, a shriek, a chorus of screams following it,
+from the group just around the fireworks. A pinwheel had exploded,
+sending a shower of sparks in every direction.
+
+All in a second, Florrie Dean flew past the girls, her white fluffy
+dress on fire. And quick as the fire itself, Cynthia tore after her.
+Well was it that the shabby green delaine was a woolen dress, that the
+stout shoes did not encumber the nimble feet, that the child's faculties
+were so alert. In a second she had seized the great shawl, and almost
+before any of the grown people had realized the child's peril, had
+smothered the flames by winding the thick folds over and over, round and
+round, the fleecy dress and the frightened child.
+
+Florrie was only slightly burned, but Cynthia's little hands were so
+blistered that they would neither wash dishes nor pick beans for many a
+day.
+
+Mrs. Dean bathed them in sweet oil and bandaged them from the air, then
+put Cynthia to bed on a couch in a chamber opening out of her own room.
+From time to time in the night she went to see if the dear child was
+sleeping quietly, and Mr. Dean, standing and looking at her, said, "We
+owe this little one a great debt; her presence of mind saved Florrie's
+life."
+
+Early the next morning Bonny Bess trotted up to Mr. Mason's door without
+Cynthia. Aunt Kate was feeling impatient for her return. She missed the
+willing little helper more than she had supposed possible. She had
+arranged half a dozen tasks for the day, in everyone of which she
+expected to employ Cynthia, and she felt quite disappointed when she saw
+that Mr. Dean was alone.
+
+"Another picnic for to-day, I suppose," she said to herself. "Cynthia
+may just as well learn first as last that we cannot afford to let her go
+to such junketings often."
+
+But Mr. Dean broke in upon her thoughts by saying, blandly: "Good
+morning, madam. Will you kindly tell me where to find Mr. Mason?"
+
+"He's in the south meadow," she answered, civilly, pointing in that
+direction. "I see you've not brought Cynthia home, Mr. Dean. I need her
+badly. Mrs. Dean promised to send her home early."
+
+"Mrs. Dean will call on you herself in the course of the day; and it is
+about Cynthia that I wish to consult her father, my good lady," said Mr.
+Dean, lifting his hat, as if to a queen, as he drove toward the meadow.
+
+"Well! well! well!" said Aunt Kate, feeling rather resentful, but on the
+whole rather pleased with the "good lady" and the courteously lifted
+hat. A charming manner is a wonderful magician in the way of scattering
+sunshine.
+
+The boarders, observing the little scene from the side porch, hoped that
+Cynthia's outing was to be prolonged. One and all liked the handy,
+obliging little maiden who had so much womanly work to do and so scanty
+a time for childish play.
+
+When, however, at noon, Mr. Mason came home, holding his head up proudly
+and looking five years younger, and told how brave Cynthia had been;
+when neighbor after neighbor, as the news flew over the place, stopped
+to congratulate the Masons on the possession of such a little
+heroine--Miss Mason was at first puzzled, then triumphant.
+
+"You see what there is in bringing up," she averred. "I've never spoiled
+Cynthy: I've trained her to be thoughtful and quick, and this is the
+result."
+
+When Mrs. Dean first proposed that Cynthia should spend the rest of the
+summer at Fernbrake, sharing the lessons and play with her own girls,
+Aunt Kate opposed the idea. She did not know how one pair of hands and
+feet was to do all that was to be done in that house. Was she to send
+the boarders away, or how did her brother think she could get along.
+
+Mr. Mason said he could afford to hire help for his sister if she wished
+it, and in any event he meant that Cynthia after this should go to
+school and study; for "thanks to her and to God"--he spoke
+reverently--"the mortgage was paid." Mr. Dean had taken that burden away
+because of Florrie's life which Cynthia had saved.
+
+Under the new conditions Cynthia grew very lovely in face as well as in
+disposition. It came to pass that she spent fully half her time with the
+Deans; had all the books to read that she wanted, and saw her father and
+Aunt Kate so happy that she forgot the old days of worry and care, when
+she had sometimes felt lonely, and thought that they were cross. Half
+the crossness in the world comes from sorrow and anxiety, and so
+children should bear with tired grown people patiently.
+
+As for Lulu, she never ceased to be glad that her mamma's terror of
+malaria had obliged her to carry a great shawl to Effie's lawn party.
+Privately, too, she was glad that the shawl was so scorched that she
+never was asked to wear it anywhere again.
+
+
+
+
+The Boy Who Went from the Sheepfold to the Throne.
+
+BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
+
+
+A great many years ago in the morning of the world there was a boy who
+began by taking care of flocks, and ended by ruling a nation. He was the
+youngest of a large family and his older brothers did not respect him
+very much nor think much of his opinion, though they were no doubt fond
+of the ruddy, round-faced little fellow, and proud of his great courage
+and of his remarkable skill in music. For the boy did not know what fear
+was, and once when he was alone in the high hill pasture taking care of
+the ewes and the lambs, there came prowling along a lion of the desert,
+with his soft padding steps, intent on carrying off a sheep for Madam
+Lioness and her cubs. The boy did not run, not he; but took the lamb out
+of the lion's mouth, seized the creature by the beard and slew him, and
+thus defended the huddling, frightened flock from that peril. He served
+the next enemy a big, blundering old bear, in the same way. When there
+were no wild beasts creeping up to the rim of the fire he made near his
+little tent, the lad would amuse himself by playing on the flute, or
+the jewsharp he carried; and at home, when the father and sons were
+gathered around in silence, he used to play upon his larger harp so
+sweetly that all bad thoughts fled, and everybody was glad and at peace
+with the world.
+
+One day an aged man with snowy hair and a look of great dignity and
+presence came to the boy's father's house. He proved to be a great
+prophet named Samuel, and he was received with much honor. In the course
+of his visit he asked to see the entire family, and one by one the tall
+and beautiful sons were presented to him until he had seen seven young
+men.
+
+"Is this all your household? Have you not another son?" he inquired.
+
+"Yes," said Jesse the Bethlehemite, who by the way was a grandson of
+that beautiful maiden, Ruth, who came out of Moab with Naomi, "yes, I
+have still a son, but he is only a youth, out in the fields; you would
+not wish to see _him_." But this was a mistake.
+
+"Pray, send for him," answered the prophet.
+
+Then David, for this was his name, came in, modest yet eager, with his
+pleasant face and his dark kindling eyes. And the prophet said, "This is
+the Lord's anointed," and then in a ceremony which the simple family
+seem not to have quite understood, he set the boy apart by prayer and
+blessing, poured the fragrant oil of consecration on his head, and said
+in effect that in days to come he would be the King of Israel.
+
+David went back to his fields and his sheep and for a long while nothing
+happened.
+
+But there arose against Israel in due time a nation of warlike people,
+called "The Philistines." Nearly all the strong young men of the country
+went out to fight against these invaders, and among them went the sons
+of old Jesse. Nobody stayed at home except the old men, the women and
+the younger boys and little ones. The whole country was turned into a
+moving camp, and there arrived a time before long when Israel and the
+Philistines each on a rolling hill, with a valley between them, set
+their battle in array.
+
+I once supposed that battles were fought on open plains, with soldiers
+confronting one another in plain sight, as we set out toy regiments of
+wooden warriors to fight for children's amusement. But since then, in my
+later years, I have seen the old battlefields of our Civil War and I
+know better. Soldiers fight behind trees and barns and fences, and in
+the shelter of hedges and ditches, and a timbered mountain side makes a
+fine place for a battle ground.
+
+Now I will quote a passage or two from a certain old book, which tells
+this part of the story in much finer style than I can. The old book is a
+familiar one, and is full of splendid stories for all the year round. I
+wish the young people who read this holiday book would make a point
+hereafter of looking every day in that treasure-house, the Bible.
+
+     And there went out a champion out of the camp of the Philistines,
+     named Goliath, of Gath, whose height was six cubits and a span.
+
+     And he had a helmet of brass upon his head, and he was armed with a
+     coat of mail; and the weight of the coat was five thousand shekels
+     of brass.
+
+     And he had greaves of brass upon his legs, and a target of brass
+     between his shoulders.
+
+     And the staff of his spear was like a weaver's beam; and his
+     spear's head weighed six hundred shekels of iron: and one bearing a
+     shield went before him.
+
+     And he stood and cried unto the armies of Israel, and said unto
+     them, Why are ye come out to set your battle in array? am not I a
+     Philistine, and ye servants to Saul? choose you a man for you, and
+     let him come down to me.
+
+     If he be able to fight with me, and to kill me, then will we be
+     your servants: but if I prevail against him, and kill him, then
+     shall ye be our servants, and serve us.
+
+     And the Philistine said, I defy the armies of Israel this day; give
+     me a man, that we may fight together.
+
+     When Saul and all Israel heard those words of the Philistine, they
+     were dismayed, and greatly afraid.
+
+     Now David was the son of that Ephrathite of Bethlehem-judah, whose
+     name was Jesse; and he had eight sons: and the man went among men
+     for an old man in the days of Saul.
+
+     And the three eldest sons of Jesse went and followed Saul to the
+     battle: and the names of his three sons that went to the battle
+     were Eliab the first-born, and next unto him Abinadab, and the
+     third Shammah.
+
+     And David was the youngest: and the three eldest followed Saul.
+
+     But David went and returned from Saul to feed his father's sheep at
+     Beth-lehem.
+
+     And the Philistine drew near morning and evening, and presented
+     himself forty days.
+
+     And Jesse said unto David his son, Take now for thy brethren an
+     ephah of this parched corn, and these ten loaves, and run to the
+     camp to thy brethren;
+
+     And carry these ten cheeses unto the captain of their thousand, and
+     look how thy brethren fare, and take their pledge.
+
+     Now Saul, and they, and all the men of Israel, were in the valley
+     of Elah, fighting with the Philistines.
+
+     And David rose up early in the morning, and left the sheep with a
+     keeper, and took, and went, as Jesse had commanded him; and he came
+     to the trench, as the host was going forth to the fight, and
+     shouted for the battle.
+
+     For Israel and the Philistines had put the battle in array, army
+     against army.
+
+     And David left his carriage in the hand of the keeper of the
+     carriage, and ran into the army, and came and saluted his brethren.
+
+     And as he talked with them, behold, there came up the champion, the
+     Philistine of Gath, Goliath by name, out of the armies of the
+     Philistines, and spake according to the same words: and David heard
+     them.
+
+     And all the men of Israel, when they saw the man, fled from him,
+     and were sore afraid.
+
+     And the men of Israel said, Have ye seen this man that is come up?
+     surely to defy Israel is he come up: and it shall be, that the man
+     who killeth him, the king will enrich him with great riches, and
+     will give him his daughter, and make his father's house free in
+     Israel.
+
+     And David spake to the men that stood by him saying, What shall be
+     done to the man that killeth this Philistine, and taketh away the
+     reproach from Israel? for who is this uncircumcised Philistine,
+     that he should defy the armies of the living God?
+
+By "carriage" is meant luggage, the things David had brought for his
+brothers, not a conveyance as in our modern sense.
+
+The brothers were angry when they found David putting himself forward,
+in a way which they thought absurd, but their taunts did not deter him
+from presenting himself to King Saul, who was pleased with the gallant
+boy, and proposed to arm him with his own armor, a coat of mail, greaves
+of brass and the like. But "no," said David, "I would feel clumsy and
+awkward in your accoutrements, I will meet the giant with my shepherd's
+sling and stone, in the name of the Lord God of Israel whom he has
+defied."
+
+The giant came blustering out with a tread that shook the ground. When
+he saw his little antagonist he was vexed, for this seemed to him no
+foeman worthy of his spear. But when the conflict was really on, lo! the
+unerring eye and hand of David sent his pebble from the brook straight
+into the giant's head, and the victory was with Israel.
+
+And after that, David went to the palace and played sweetly on the harp
+to charm and soothe the madness of King Saul, on whom there came by
+spells a fierce and terrible malady. He formed a close friendship with
+Jonathan, the king's son, a friendship which has passed into a proverb,
+so tender it was and so true. After a while he married the king's
+daughter. He had a great many wonderful adventures and strange
+experiences, and in time he became king himself, as the Lord by his
+prophet Samuel had foretold and chosen him to be.
+
+But better than all, David's deeds of valor and the great fame he had
+among the nations, which abides to this day, was, in my mind, the fact
+that he wrote many of the psalms which we use in our public worship,
+this, the twenty-third, is one of the very sweetest of them all:
+
+     The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
+
+     He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside
+     the still waters.
+
+     He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness
+     for his name's sake.
+
+     Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I
+     will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they
+     comfort me.
+
+     Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
+     thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
+
+     Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
+     and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
+
+You must not think that David's life was ever an easy one. He always
+had hard battles to fight. Once, for quite a long period, he was an
+outlaw, much like Robin Hood of a later day, and with a band of brave
+young men he lived in the woods and the mountains, defending the
+property of his friends from other outlaws, and sometimes perhaps making
+forays against his foes, sweeping off their cattle and burning their
+tents and houses. Those were wild and exciting days, when the battle was
+for the strongest to win, and when many things were done of which in our
+modern times we cannot wholly approve. The thing about David which
+pleases me most is that he had a rare quality called magnanimity; he did
+not take a mean advantage of an enemy, and when, as occasionally it must
+be owned, he did commit a great sin, his repentance was deep and
+sincere. He lived in so much communion with God, that God spoke of him
+always as his servant, and he has been called, to distinguish him from
+other heroes in the Bible gallery, "The man after God's own heart."
+Whatever duties or trials came to David, they were met in a spirit of
+simple trust in the Lord, and with a child-like dependence on God's
+will.
+
+David had many children, some very good and some very bad. His son
+Absalom was renowned for his beauty and for his wickedness, while
+Solomon became famous, and so continues to this day as the wisest among
+men, a man rich, far-sighted and exalted, who reigned long in Jerusalem
+after the death of David, his father, who passed away in a good old age.
+Wonderful lives are these to read and to think of, full of meaning for
+every one of us. And many, many years after both these men and their
+successors were gone there came to our earth, One born of a Virgin, who
+traced His mortal lineage back to David of Bethlehem, and who brought
+goodwill and peace to men. Even Christ our Blessed Lord.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Holiday Stories for Young People, by Various
+
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