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diff --git a/40683-8.txt b/40683-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index fe51ed1..0000000 --- a/40683-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5597 +0,0 @@ - LULU'S LIBRARY, VOLUME III - - - - -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 http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - -Title: Lulu's Library, Volume III (of 3) - -Author: Louisa M. Alcott - -Release Date: September 05, 2012 [EBook #40683] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LULU'S LIBRARY, VOLUME III (OF -3) *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - -[Illustration: Cover] - - - - - LULU'S LIBRARY. - - - BY - - LOUISA M. ALCOTT, - - - AUTHOR OF "LITTLE WOMEN," "AN OLD-FASHIONED GIRL," "LITTLE MEN," - "EIGHT COUSINS," "ROSE IN BLOOM," "UNDER THE LILACS," "JACK - AND JILL," "JO'S BOYS," "HOSPITAL SKETCHES," "WORK, A STORY - OF EXPERIENCE," "MOODS, A NOVEL," "PROVERB STORIES," - "SILVER PITCHERS," "SPINNING-WHEEL STORIES," - "A GARLAND FOR GIRLS," "AUNT - JO'S SCRAP-BAG." - - - - VOL. III. - - RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD. - A CHRISTMAS TURKEY, AND HOW IT CAME. - THE SILVER PARTY. - THE BLIND LARK. - MUSIC AND MACARONI. - THE LITTLE RED PURSE. - SOPHIE'S SECRET. - DOLLY'S BEDSTEAD. - TRUDEL'S SIEGE. - - - - BOSTON: - ROBERTS BROTHERS. - 1889. - - - - - _Copyright, 1889,_ - BY J. S. P. ALCOTT. - - - - University Press: - JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE. - - - - - CONTENTS. - - I. Recollections of My Childhood - II. A Christmas Turkey, and How It Came - III. The Silver Party - IV. The Blind Lark - V. Music and Macaroni - VI. The Little Red Purse - VII. Sophie's Secret - VIII. Dolly's Bedstead - IX. Trudel's Siege - - - - -[Illustration: Louisa May Alcott] - - - - I. - - RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDHOOD. - - -One of my earliest memories is of playing with books in my father's -study,--building towers and bridges of the big dictionaries, looking at -pictures, pretending to read, and scribbling on blank pages whenever pen -or pencil could be found. Many of these first attempts at authorship -still exist; and I often wonder if these childish plays did not -influence my after-life, since books have been my greatest comfort, -castle-building a never-failing delight, and scribbling a very -profitable amusement. - -Another very vivid recollection is of the day when running after my hoop -I fell into the Frog Pond and was rescued by a black boy, becoming a -friend to the colored race then and there, though my mother always -declared that I was an abolitionist at the age of three. - -During the Garrison riot in Boston the portrait of George Thompson was -hidden under a bed in our house for safekeeping; and I am told that I -used to go and comfort "the good man who helped poor slaves" in his -captivity. However that may be, the conversion was genuine; and my -greatest pride is in the fact that I have lived to know the brave men -and women who did so much for the cause, and that I had a very small -share in the war which put an end to a great wrong. - -Being born on the birthday of Columbus, I seem to have something of my -patron saint's spirit of adventure, and running away was one of the -delights of my childhood. Many a social lunch have I shared with -hospitable Irish beggar children, as we ate our crusts, cold potatoes, -and salt fish on voyages of discovery among the ash heaps of the waste -land that then lay where the Albany station now stands. - -Many an impromptu picnic have I had on the dear old Common, with strange -boys, pretty babies, and friendly dogs, who always seemed to feel that -this reckless young person needed looking after. - -On one occasion the town-crier found me fast asleep at nine o'clock at -night, on a doorstep in Bedford Street, with my head pillowed on the -curly breast of a big Newfoundland, who was with difficulty persuaded to -release the weary little wanderer who had sobbed herself to sleep there. - -I often smile as I pass that door, and never forget to give a grateful -pat to every big dog I meet, for never have I slept more soundly than on -that dusty step, nor found a better friend than the noble animal who -watched over the lost baby so faithfully. - -My father's school was the only one I ever went to; and when this was -broken up because he introduced methods now all the fashion, our lessons -went on at home, for he was always sure of four little pupils who firmly -believed in their teacher, though they have not done him all the credit -he deserved. - -I never liked arithmetic or grammar, and dodged these branches on all -occasions; but reading, composition, history, and geography I enjoyed, -as well as the stories read to us with a skill which made the dullest -charming and useful. - -"Pilgrim's Progress," Krummacher's "Parables," Miss Edgeworth, and the -best of the dear old fairy tales made that hour the pleasantest of our -day. On Sundays we had a simple service of Bible stories, hymns, and -conversation about the state of our little consciences and the conduct -of our childish lives which never will be forgotten. - -Walks each morning round the Common while in the city, and long tramps -over hill and dale when our home was in the country, were a part of our -education, as well as every sort of housework, for which I have always -been very grateful, since such knowledge makes one independent in these -days of domestic tribulation with the help who are too often only -hindrances. - -Needle-work began early; and at ten my skilful sister made a linen shirt -beautifully, while at twelve I set up as a dolls' dressmaker, with my -sign out, and wonderful models in my window. All the children employed -me; and my turbans were the rage at one time, to the great dismay of the -neighbor's hens, who were hotly hunted down that I might tweak out their -downiest feathers to adorn the dolls' head-gear. - -Active exercise was my delight from the time when a child of six I drove -my hoop round the Common without stopping, to the days when I did my -twenty miles in five hours and went to a party in the evening. - -I always thought I must have been a deer or a horse in some former -state, because it was such a joy to run. No boy could be my friend till -I had beaten him in a race, and no girl if she refused to climb trees, -leap fences, and be a tomboy. - -My wise mother, anxious to give me a strong body to support a lively -brain, turned me loose in the country and let me run wild, learning of -Nature what no books can teach, and being led, as those who truly love -her seldom fail to be, - - "Through Nature up to Nature's God." - - -I remember running over the hills just at dawn one summer morning, and -pausing to rest in the silent woods, saw, through an arch of trees, the -sun rise over river, hill, and wide green meadows as I never saw it -before. - -Something born of the lovely hour, a happy mood, and the unfolding -aspirations of a child's soul seemed to bring me very near to God; and -in the hush of that morning hour I always felt that I "got religion," as -the phrase goes. A new and vital sense of His presence, tender and -sustaining as a father's arms, came to me then, never to change through -forty years of life's vicissitudes, but to grow stronger for the sharp -discipline of poverty and pain, sorrow and success. - -Those Concord days were the happiest of my life, for we had charming -playmates in the little Emersons, Channings, Hawthornes, and Goodwins, -with the illustrious parents and their friends to enjoy our pranks and -share our excursions. - -Plays in the barn were a favorite amusement, and we dramatized the fairy -tales in great style. Our giant came tumbling off a loft when Jack cut -down the squash-vine running up a ladder to represent the immortal bean. -Cinderella rolled away in a vast pumpkin; and a long black pudding was -lowered by invisible hands to fasten itself on the nose of the woman who -wasted her three wishes. - -Little pilgrims journeyed over the hills with scrip and staff, and -cockle-shells in their hats; elves held their pretty revels among the -pines, and "Peter Wilkins'" flying ladies came swinging down on the -birch tree-tops. Lords and ladies haunted the garden, and mermaids -splashed in the bath-house of woven willows over the brook. - -People wondered at our frolics, but enjoyed them; and droll stories are -still told of the adventures of those days. Mr. Emerson and Margaret -Fuller were visiting my parents one afternoon; and the conversation -having turned to the ever-interesting subject of education, Miss Fuller -said,-- - -"Well, Mr. Alcott, you have been able to carry out your methods in your -own family, and I should like to see your model children." - -She did in a few moments,--for as the guests stood on the doorsteps a -wild uproar approached, and round the corner of the house came a -wheelbarrow holding baby May arrayed as a queen; I was the horse, bitted -and bridled, and driven by my elder sister Anna, while Lizzie played dog -and barked as loud as her gentle voice permitted. - -All were shouting, and wild with fun, which, however, came to a sudden -end as we espied the stately group before us, for my foot tripped, and -down we all went in a laughing heap, while my mother put a climax to the -joke by saying with a dramatic wave of the hand,-- - -"Here are the model children, Miss Fuller!" - -My sentimental period began at fifteen, when I fell to writing romances, -poems, a "heart journal," and dreaming dreams of a splendid future. - -Browsing over Mr. Emerson's library, I found "Goethe's Correspondence -with a Child," and was at once fired with the desire to be a second -Bettine, making my father's friend my Goethe. So I wrote letters to him, -but was wise enough never to send them, left wild flowers on the -doorsteps of my "Master," sung Mignon's song in very bad German under -his window, and was fond of wandering by moonlight, or sitting in a -cherry-tree at midnight till the owls scared me to bed. - -The girlish folly did not last long, and the letters were burned years -ago; but Goethe is still my favorite author, and Emerson remained my -beloved "Master" while he lived, doing more for me, as for many another -young soul, than he ever knew, by the simple beauty of his life, the -truth and wisdom of his books, the example of a good great man untempted -and unspoiled by the world which he made nobler while in it, and left -the richer when he went. - -The trials of life began about this time, and my happy childhood ended. -Money is never plentiful in a philosopher's house; and even the maternal -pelican could not supply all our wants on the small income which was -freely shared with every needy soul who asked for help. - -Fugitive slaves were sheltered under our roof; and my first pupil was a -very black George Washington whom I taught to write on the hearth with -charcoal, his big fingers finding pen and pencil unmanageable. - -Motherless girls seeking protection were guarded among us; hungry -travellers sent on to our door to be fed and warmed; and if the -philosopher happened to own two coats, the best went to a needy brother, -for these were practical Christians who had the most perfect faith in -Providence, and never found it betrayed. - -In those days the prophets were not honored in their own land, and -Concord had not yet discovered her great men. It was a sort of refuge -for reformers of all sorts, whom the good natives regarded as lunatics, -harmless but amusing. - -My father went away to hold his classes and conversations, and we women -folk began to feel that we also might do something. So one gloomy -November day we decided to move to Boston and try our fate again after -some years in the wilderness. - -My father's prospect was as promising as a philosopher's ever is in a -money-making world; my mother's friends offered her a good salary as -their missionary to the poor; and my sister and I hoped to teach. It -was an anxious council; and always preferring action to discussion, I -took a brisk run over the hill and then settled down for "a good think" -in my favorite retreat. - -It was an old cart-wheel, half hidden in grass under the locusts where I -used to sit to wrestle with my sums, and usually forget them scribbling -verses or fairy tales on my slate instead. Perched on the hub, I -surveyed the prospect and found it rather gloomy, with leafless trees, -sere grass, leaden sky, and frosty air; but the hopeful heart of fifteen -beat warmly under the old red shawl, visions of success gave the gray -clouds a silver lining, and I said defiantly, as I shook my fist at fate -embodied in a crow cawing dismally on a fence near by,-- - -"I _will_ do something by-and-by. Don't care what, teach, sew, act, -write, anything to help the family; and I'll be rich and famous and -happy before I die, see if I won't!" - -Startled by this audacious outburst, the crow flew away; but the old -wheel creaked as if it began to turn at that moment, stirred by the -intense desire of an ambitious girl to work for those she loved and find -some reward when the duty was done. - -I did not mind the omen then, and returned to the house cold but -resolute. I think I began to shoulder my burden then and there, for -when the free country life ended, the wild colt soon learned to tug in -harness, only breaking loose now and then for a taste of beloved -liberty. - -My sisters and I had cherished fine dreams of a home in the city; but -when we found ourselves in a small house at the South End with not a -tree in sight, only a back yard to play in, and no money to buy any of -the splendors before us, we all rebelled and longed for the country -again. - -Anna soon found little pupils, and trudged away each morning to her -daily task, pausing at the corner to wave her hand to me in answer to my -salute with the duster. My father went to his classes at his room down -town, mother to her all-absorbing poor, the little girls to school, and -I was left to keep house, feeling like a caged sea-gull as I washed -dishes and cooked in the basement kitchen, where my prospect was limited -to a procession of muddy boots. - -Good drill, but very hard; and my only consolation was the evening -reunion when all met with such varied reports of the day's adventures, -we could not fail to find both amusement and instruction. - -Father brought news from the upper world, and the wise, good people who -adorned it; mother, usually much dilapidated because she _would_ give -away her clothes, with sad tales of suffering and sin from the darker -side of life; gentle Anna a modest account of her success as teacher, -for even at seventeen her sweet nature won all who knew her, and her -patience quelled the most rebellious pupil. - -My reports were usually a mixture of the tragic and the comic; and the -children poured their small joys and woes into the family bosom, where -comfort and sympathy were always to be found. - -Then we youngsters adjourned to the kitchen for our fun, which usually -consisted of writing, dressing, and acting a series of remarkable plays. -In one I remember I took five parts and Anna four, with lightning -changes of costume, and characters varying from a Greek prince in silver -armor to a murderer in chains. - -It was good training for memory and fingers, for we recited pages -without a fault, and made every sort of property from a harp to a -fairy's spangled wings. Later we acted Shakespeare; and Hamlet was my -favorite hero, played with a gloomy glare and a tragic stalk which I -have never seen surpassed. - -But we were now beginning to play our parts on a real stage, and to know -something of the pathetic side of life, with its hard facts, irksome -duties, many temptations, and the daily sacrifice of self. Fortunately -we had the truest, tenderest of guides and guards, and so learned the -sweet uses of adversity, the value of honest work, the beautiful law of -compensation which gives more than it takes, and the real significance -of life. - -At sixteen I began to teach twenty pupils, and for ten years learned to -know and love children. The story-writing went on all the while with -the usual trials of beginners. Fairy tales told the Emersons made the -first printed book, and "Hospital Sketches" the first successful one. - -Every experience went into the caldron to come out as froth, or -evaporate in smoke, till time and suffering strengthened and clarified -the mixture of truth and fancy, and a wholesome draught for children -began to flow pleasantly and profitably. - -So the omen proved a true one, and the wheel of fortune turned slowly, -till the girl of fifteen found herself a woman of fifty, with her -prophetic dream beautifully realized, her duty done, her reward far -greater than she deserved. - - - -[Illustration: Chapter I tailpiece] - - - - -[Illustration: Kitty gives the bunch of holly to the little girl.--PAGE -36.] - - - - II. - - A CHRISTMAS TURKEY, AND HOW IT CAME. - - -"I know we could n't do it." - -"I say we could, if we all helped." - -"How can we?" - -"I've planned lots of ways; only you mustn't laugh at them, and you must -n't say a word to mother. I want it to be all a surprise." - -"She 'll find us out." - -"No, she won't, if we tell her we won't get into mischief." - -"Fire away, then, and let's hear your fine plans." - -"We must talk softly, or we shall wake father. He's got a headache." - -A curious change came over the faces of the two boys as their sister -lowered her voice, with a nod toward a half-opened door. They looked -sad and ashamed, and Kitty sighed as she spoke, for all knew that -father's headaches always began by his coming home stupid or cross, with -only a part of his wages; and mother always cried when she thought they -did not see her, and after the long sleep father looked as if he did n't -like to meet their eyes, but went off early. - -They knew what it meant, but never spoke of it,--only pondered over it, -and mourned with mother at the change which was slowly altering their -kind industrious father into a moody man, and mother into an anxious -over-worked woman. - -Kitty was thirteen, and a very capable girl, who helped with the -housekeeping, took care of the two little ones, and went to school. -Tommy and Sammy looked up to her and thought her a remarkably good -sister. Now, as they sat round the stove having "a go-to-bed warm," the -three heads were close together; and the boys listened eagerly to -Kitty's plans, while the rattle of the sewing-machine in another room -went on as tirelessly as it had done all day, for mother's work was more -and more needed every month. - -"Well!" began Kitty, in an impressive tone, "we all know that there -won't be a bit of Christmas in this family if we don't make it. -Mother's too busy, and father don't care, so we must see what we can do; -for I should be mortified to death to go to school and say I had n't had -any turkey or plum-pudding. Don't expect presents; but we _must_ have -some kind of a decent dinner." - -"So I say; I'm tired of fish and potatoes," said Sammy, the younger. - -"But where's the dinner coming from?" asked Tommy, who had already taken -some of the cares of life on his young shoulders, and knew that -Christmas dinners did not walk into people's houses without money. - -"We 'll earn it;" and Kitty looked like a small Napoleon planning the -passage of the Alps. "You, Tom, must go early to-morrow to Mr. Brisket -and offer to carry baskets. He will be dreadfully busy, and want you, I -know; and you are so strong you can lug as much as some of the big -fellows. He pays well, and if he won't give much money, you can take -your wages in things to eat. We want everything." - -"What shall I do?" cried Sammy, while Tom sat turning this plan over in -his mind. - -"Take the old shovel and clear sidewalks. The snow came on purpose to -help you." - -"It's awful hard work, and the shovel's half gone," began Sammy, who -preferred to spend his holiday coasting on an old tea-tray. - -"Don't growl, or you won't get any dinner," said Tom, making up his mind -to lug baskets for the good of the family, like a manly lad as he was. - -"I," continued Kitty, "have taken the hardest part of all; for after my -work is done, and the babies safely settled, I 'm going to beg for the -leavings of the holly and pine swept out of the church down below, and -make some wreaths and sell them." - -"If you can," put in Tommy, who had tried pencils, and failed to make a -fortune. - -"Not in the street?" cried Sam, looking alarmed. - -"Yes, at the corner of the Park. I 'm bound to make some money, and -don't see any other way. I shall put on an old hood and shawl, and no -one will know me. Don't care if they do." And Kitty tried to mean what -she said, but in her heart she felt that it would be a trial to her -pride if any of her schoolmates should happen to recognize her. - -"Don't believe you 'll do it." - -"See if I don't; for I _will_ have a good dinner one day in the year." - -"Well, it does n't seem right for us to do it. Father ought to take care -of us, and we only buy some presents with the little bit we earn. He -never gives us anything now." And Tommy scowled at the bedroom door, -with a strong sense of injury struggling with affection in his boyish -heart. - -"Hush!" cried Kitty. "Don't blame him. Mother says we never must forget -he's our father. I try not to; but when she cries, it's hard to feel as -I ought." And a sob made the little girl stop short as she poked the -fire to hide the trouble in the face that should have been all smiles. - -For a moment the room was very still, as the snow beat on the window, -and the fire-light flickered over the six shabby little boots put up on -the stove hearth to dry. - -Tommy's cheerful voice broke the silence, saying stoutly, "Well, if I -'ve got to work all day, I guess I 'll go to bed early. Don't fret, -Kit. We 'll help all we can, and have a good time; see if we don't." - -"I 'll go out real early, and shovel like fury. Maybe I 'll get a -dollar. Would that buy a turkey?" asked Sammy, with the air of a -millionnaire. - -"No, dear; one big enough for us would cost two, I 'm afraid. Perhaps -we 'll have one sent us. We belong to the church, though folks don't -know how poor we are now, and we can't beg." And Kitty bustled about, -clearing up, rather exercised in her mind about going and asking for the -much-desired fowl. - -Soon all three were fast asleep, and nothing but the whir of the machine -broke the quiet that fell upon the house. Then from the inner room a -man came and sat over the fire with his head in his hands and his eyes -fixed on the ragged little boots left to dry. He had heard the -children's talk; and his heart was very heavy as he looked about the -shabby room that used to be so neat and pleasant. What he thought no -one knows, what he did we shall see by-and-by; but the sorrow and shame -and tender silence of his children worked a miracle that night more -lasting and lovely than the white beauty which the snow wrought upon the -sleeping city. - -Bright and early the boys were away to their work; while Kitty sang as -she dressed the little sisters, put the house in order, and made her -mother smile at the mysterious hints she gave of something splendid -which was going to happen. Father was gone, and though all rather -dreaded evening, nothing was said; but each worked with a will, feeling -that Christmas should be merry in spite of poverty and care. - -All day Tommy lugged fat turkeys, roasts of beef, and every sort of -vegetable for other people's good dinners on the morrow, wondering -meanwhile where his own was coming from. Mr. Brisket had an army of boys -trudging here and there, and was too busy to notice any particular lad -till the hurry was over, and only a few belated buyers remained to be -served. It was late; but the stores kept open, and though so tired he -could hardly stand, brave Tommy held on when the other boys left, hoping -to earn a trifle more by extra work. He sat down on a barrel to rest -during a leisure moment, and presently his weary head nodded sideways -into a basket of cranberries, where he slept quietly till the sound of -gruff voices roused him. - -It was Mr. Brisket scolding because one dinner had been forgotten. - -"I told that rascal Beals to be sure and carry it, for the old gentleman -will be in a rage if it does n't come, and take away his custom. Every -boy gone, and I can't leave the store, nor you either, Pat, with all the -clearing up to do." - -"Here's a by, sir, slapin illigant forninst the cranberries, bad luck to -him!" answered Pat, with a shake that set poor Tom on his legs, wide -awake at once. - -"_Good_ luck to him, you mean. Here, What's-your-name, you take this -basket to that number, and I 'll make it worth your while," said Mr. -Brisket, much relieved by this unexpected help. - -"All right, sir;" and Tommy trudged off as briskly as his tired legs -would let him, cheering the long cold walk with visions of the turkey -with which his employer might reward him, for there were piles of them, -and Pat was to have one for his family. - -His brilliant dreams were disappointed, however, for Mr. Brisket -naturally supposed Tom's father would attend to that part of the dinner, -and generously heaped a basket with vegetables, rosy apples, and a quart -of cranberries. - -"There, if you ain't too tired, you can take one more load to that -number, and a merry Christmas to you!" said the stout man, handing over -his gift with the promised dollar. - -"Thank you, sir; good-night," answered Tom, shouldering his last load -with a grateful smile, and trying not to look longingly at the poultry; -for he had set his heart on at least a skinny bird as a surprise to Kit. - -Sammy's adventures that day had been more varied and his efforts more -successful, as we shall see, in the end, for Sammy was a most engaging -little fellow, and no one could look into his blue eyes without wanting -to pat his curly yellow head with one hand while the other gave him -something. The cares of life had not lessened his confidence in people; -and only the most abandoned ruffians had the heart to deceive or -disappoint him. His very tribulations usually led to something -pleasant, and whatever happened, sunshiny Sam came right side up, lucky -and laughing. - -Undaunted by the drifts or the cold wind, he marched off with the -remains of the old shovel to seek his fortune, and found it at the third -house where he called. The first two sidewalks were easy jobs; and he -pocketed his ninepences with a growing conviction that this was his -chosen work. The third sidewalk was a fine long one, for the house -stood on the corner, and two pavements must be cleared. - -"It ought to be fifty cents; but perhaps they won't give me so much, I'm -such a young one. I'll show 'em I can work, though, like a man;" and -Sammy rang the bell with the energy of a telegraph boy. - -Before the bell could be answered, a big boy rushed up, exclaiming -roughly, "Get out of this! I'm going to have the job. You can't do it. -Start, now, or I'll chuck you into a snow-bank." - -"I won't!" answered Sammy, indignant at the brutal tone and unjust -claim. "I got here first, and it's my job. You let me alone. I ain't -afraid of you or your snow-banks either." - -The big boy wasted no time in words, for steps were heard inside, but -after a brief scuffle hauled Sammy, fighting bravely all the way, down -the steps, and tumbled him into a deep drift. Then he ran up the steps, -and respectfully asked for the job when a neat maid opened the door. He -would have got it if Sam had not roared out, as he floundered in the -drift, "I came first. He knocked me down 'cause I 'm the smallest. -Please let me do it; please!" - -Before another word could be said, a little old lady appeared in the -hall, trying to look stern, and failing entirely, because she was the -picture of a dear fat, cosey grandma. - -"Send that _bad_ big boy away, Maria, and call in the poor little -fellow. I saw the whole thing, and _he_ shall have the job if he can do -it." - -The bully slunk away, and Sammy came panting up the steps, white with -snow, a great bruise on his forehead, and a beaming smile on his face, -looking so like a jolly little Santa Claus who had taken a "header" out -of his sleigh that the maid laughed, and the old lady exclaimed, "Bless -the boy! he's dreadfully hurt, and does n't know it. Come in and be -brushed and get your breath, child, and tell me how that scamp came to -treat you so." - -Nothing loath to be comforted, Sammy told his little tale while Maria -dusted him off on the mat, and the old lady hovered in the doorway of -the dining-room, where a nice breakfast smoked and smelled so -deliciously that the boy sniffed the odor of coffee and buckwheats like -a hungry hound. - -"He 'll get his death if he goes to work till he's dried a bit. Put him -over the register, Maria, and I 'll give him a hot drink, for it's -bitter cold, poor dear!" - -Away trotted the kind old lady, and in a minute came back with coffee -and cakes, on which Sammy feasted as he warmed his toes and told Kitty's -plans for Christmas, led on by the old lady's questions, and quite -unconscious that he was letting all sorts of cats out of the bag. - -Mrs. Bryant understood the little story, and made her plans also, for -the rosy-faced boy was very like a little grandson who died last year, -and her sad old heart was very tender to all other small boys. So she -found out where Sammy lived, and nodded and smiled at him most cheerily -as he tugged stoutly away at the snow on the long pavements till all was -done, and the little workman came for his wages. - -A bright silver dollar and a pocketful of gingerbread sent him off a -rich and happy boy to shovel and sweep till noon, when he proudly showed -his earnings at home, and feasted the babies on the carefully hoarded -cake, for Dilly and Dot were the idols of the household. - -"Now, Sammy dear, I want you to take my place here this afternoon, for -mother will have to take her work home by-and-by, and I must sell my -wreaths. I only got enough green for six, and two bunches of holly; but -if I can sell them for ten or twelve cents apiece, I shall be glad. -Girls never _can_ earn as much money as boys somehow," sighed Kitty, -surveying the thin wreaths tied up with carpet ravellings, and vainly -puzzling her young wits over a sad problem. - -"I 'll give you some of my money if you don't get a dollar; then we'll -be even. Men always take care of women, you know, and ought to," cried -Sammy, setting a fine example to his father, if he had only been there -to profit by it. - -With thanks Kitty left him to rest on the old sofa, while the happy -babies swarmed over him; and putting on the shabby hood and shawl, she -slipped away to stand at the Park gate, modestly offering her little -wares to the passers-by. A nice old gentleman bought two, and his wife -scolded him for getting such bad ones; but the money gave more happiness -than any other he spent that day. A child took a ten-cent bunch of -holly with its red berries, and there Kitty's market ended. It was very -cold, people were in a hurry, bolder hucksters pressed before the timid -little girl, and the balloon man told her to "clear out." - -Hoping for better luck, she tried several other places; but the short -afternoon was soon over, the streets began to thin, the keen wind -chilled her to the bone, and her heart was very heavy to think that in -all the rich, merry city, where Christmas gifts passed her in every -hand, there were none for the dear babies and boys at home, and the -Christmas dinner was a failure. - -"I must go and get supper anyway; and I 'll hang these up in our own -rooms, as I can't sell them," said Kitty, wiping a very big tear from -her cold cheek, and turning to go away. - -A smaller, shabbier girl than herself stood near, looking at the bunch -of holly with wistful eyes; and glad to do to others as she wished some -one would do to her, Kitty offered the only thing she had to give, -saying kindly, "You may have it; merry Christmas!" and ran away before -the delighted child could thank her. - -I am very sure that one of the spirits who fly about at this season of -the year saw the little act, made a note of it, and in about fifteen -minutes rewarded Kitty for her sweet remembrance of the golden rule. - -As she went sadly homeward she looked up at some of the big houses where -every window shone with the festivities of Christmas Eve, and more than -one tear fell, for the little girl found life pretty hard just then. - -"There don't seem to be any wreaths at these windows; perhaps they 'd -buy mine. I can't bear to go home with so little for my share," she -said, stopping before one of the biggest and brightest of these fairy -palaces, where the sound of music was heard, and many little heads -peeped from behind the curtains as if watching for some one. - -Kitty was just going up the steps to make another trial, when two small -boys came racing round the corner, slipped on the icy pavement, and both -went down with a crash that would have broken older bones. One was up -in a minute, laughing; the other lay squirming and howling, "Oh, my -knee! my knee!" till Kitty ran and picked him up with the motherly -consolations she had learned to give. - -"It's broken; I know it is," wailed the small sufferer as Kitty carried -him up the steps, while his friend wildly rang the doorbell. - -It was like going into fairy-land, for the house was all astir with a -children's Christmas party. Servants flew about with smiling faces; open -doors gave ravishing glimpses of a feast in one room and a splendid tree -in another; while a crowd of little faces peered over the balusters in -the hall above, eager to come down and enjoy the glories prepared for -them. - -A pretty young girl came to meet Kitty, and listened to her story of the -accident, which proved to be less severe than it at first appeared; for -Bertie, the injured party, forgot his anguish at sight of the tree, and -hopped upstairs so nimbly that every one laughed. - -"He said his leg was broken, but I guess he's all right," said Kitty, -reluctantly turning from this happy scene to go out into the night -again. - -"Would you like to see our tree before the children come down?" asked -the pretty girl, seeing the wistful look in the child's eyes, and the -shine of half-dried tears on her cheek. - -"Oh, yes; I never saw anything so lovely. I 'd like to tell the babies -all about it;" and Kitty's face beamed at the prospect, as if the kind -words had melted all the frost away. - -"How many babies are there?" asked the pretty girl, as she led the way -into the brilliant room. Kitty told her, adding several other facts, -for the friendly atmosphere seemed to make them friends at once. - -"I will buy the wreaths, for we have n't any," said the girl in silk, as -Kitty told how she was just coming to offer them when the boys fell. - -It was pretty to see how carefully the little hostess laid away the -shabby garlands and slipped a half-dollar into Kitty's hand; prettier -still, to watch the sly way in which she tucked some bonbons, a red -ball, a blue whip, two china dolls, two pairs of little mittens, and -some gilded nuts into an empty box for "the babies;" and prettiest of -all, to see the smiles and tears make April in Kitty's face as she tried -to tell her thanks for this beautiful surprise. - -The world was all right when she got into the street again and ran home -with the precious box hugged close, feeling that at last she had -something to make a merry Christmas of. - -Shrieks of joy greeted her, for Sammy's nice old lady had sent a basket -full of pies, nuts and raisins, oranges and cake, and--oh, happy -Sammy!--a sled, all for love of the blue eyes that twinkled so merrily -when he told her about the tea-tray. Piled upon this red car of -triumph, Dilly and Dot were being dragged about, while the other -treasures were set forth on the table. - -"I must show mine," cried Kitty; "we 'll look at them to-night, and have -them to-morrow;" and amid more cries of rapture _her_ box was unpacked, -_her_ money added to the pile in the middle of the table, where Sammy -had laid his handsome contribution toward the turkey. - -Before the story of the splendid tree was over, in came Tommy with his -substantial offering and his hard-earned dollar. - -"I 'm afraid I ought to keep my money for shoes. I 've walked the soles -off these to-day, and can't go to school barefooted," he said, bravely -trying to put the temptation of skates behind him. - -"We 've got a good dinner without a turkey, and perhaps we 'd better not -get it," added Kitty, with a sigh, as she surveyed the table, and -remembered the blue knit hood marked seventy-five cents that she saw in -a shop-window. - -"Oh, we _must_ have a turkey! we worked so hard for it, and it's so -Christmasy," cried Sam, who always felt that pleasant things ought to -happen. - -"Must have turty," echoed the babies, as they eyed the dolls tenderly. - -"You _shall_ have a turkey, and there he is," said an unexpected voice, -as a noble bird fell upon the table, and lay there kicking up his legs -as if enjoying the surprise immensely. - -It was father's voice, and there stood father, neither cross nor stupid, -but looking as he used to look, kind and happy, and beside him was -mother, smiling as they had not seen her smile for months. It was not -because the work was well paid for, and more promised, but because she -had received a gift that made the world bright, a home happy -again,--father's promise to drink no more. - -"I 've been working to-day as well as you, and you may keep your money -for yourselves. There are shoes for all; and never again, please God, -shall my children be ashamed of me, or want a dinner Christmas Day." - -As father said this with a choke in his voice, and mother's head went -down on his shoulder to hide the happy tears that wet her cheeks, the -children did n't know whether to laugh or cry, till Kitty, with the -instinct of a loving heart, settled the question by saying, as she held -out her hands, "We have n't any tree, so let's dance around our goodies -and be merry." - -Then the tired feet in the old shoes forgot their weariness, and five -happy little souls skipped gayly round the table, where, in the midst of -all the treasures earned and given, father's Christmas turkey proudly -lay in state. - - - -[Illustration: Chapter II tailpiece] - - - - -[Illustration: "Grandpapa Ladle cheered them on, like a fine old -gentleman as he was."--PAGE 55.] - - - - III. - - THE SILVER PARTY. - - -"Such a long morning! Seems as if dinner-time would never come!" sighed -Tony, as he wandered into the dining-room for a third pick at the nuts -and raisins to beguile his weariness with a little mischief. - -It was Thanksgiving Day. All the family were at church, all the -servants busy preparing for the great dinner; and so poor Tony, who had -a cold, had not only to stay at home, but to amuse himself while the -rest said their prayers, made calls, or took a brisk walk to get an -appetite. If he had been allowed in the kitchen, he would have been -quite happy; but cook was busy and cross, and rapped him on the head -with a poker when he ventured near the door. Peeping through the slide -was also forbidden, and John, the man, bribed him with an orange to keep -out of the way till the table was set. - -That was now done. The dining-room was empty and quiet, and poor Tony -lay down on the sofa to eat his nuts and admire the fine sight before -him. All the best damask, china, glass, and silver was set forth with -great care. A basket of flowers hung from the chandelier, and the -sideboard was beautiful to behold with piled-up fruit, dishes of cake, -and many-colored finger-bowls and glasses. - -"That's all very nice, but the eating part is what _I_ care for. Don't -believe I 'll get my share to-day, because mamma found out about this -horrid cold. A fellow can't help sneezing, though he can hide a sore -throat. Oh, hum! nearly two more hours to wait;" and with a long sigh -Tony closed his eyes for a luxurious yawn. - -When he opened them, the strange sight he beheld kept him staring -without a thought of sleep. The big soup-ladle stood straight up at the -head of the table with a face plainly to be seen in the bright bowl. It -was a very heavy, handsome old ladle, so the face was old, but round and -jolly; and the long handle stood very erect, like a tall thin gentleman -with a big head. - -"Well, upon my word that's queer!" said Tony, sitting up also, and -wondering what would happen next. - -To his great amazement the ladle began to address the assembled forks -and spoons in a silvery tone very pleasant to hear:-- - -"Ladies and gentlemen, at this festive season it is proper that we -should enjoy ourselves. As we shall be tired after dinner, we will at -once begin our sports by a grand promenade. Take partners and fall in!" - -At these words a general uprising took place; and before Tony could get -his breath a long procession of forks and spoons stood ready. The -finger-bowls struck up an airy tune as if invisible wet fingers were -making music on their rims, and led by the stately ladle like a -drum-major, the grand march began. The forks were the gentlemen, tall, -slender, and with a fine curve to their backs; the spoons were the -ladies, with full skirts, and the scallops on the handles stood up like -silver combs; the large ones were the mammas, the teaspoons were the -young ladies, and the little salts the children. It was sweet to see the -small things walk at the end of the procession, with the two silver -rests for the carving knife and fork trotting behind like pet dogs. The -mustard-spoon and pickle-fork went together, and quarrelled all the way, -both being hot-tempered and sharp-tongued. The steel knives looked on, -for this was a very aristocratic party, and only the silver people could -join in it. - -"Here 's fun!" thought Tony, staring with all his might, and so much -interested in this remarkable state of things that he forgot hunger and -time altogether. - -Round and round went the glittering train, to the soft music of the -many-toned finger-bowls, till three turns about the long oval table had -been made; then all fell into line for a contradance, as in the good old -times before every one took to spinning like tops. Grandpa Ladle led -off with his oldest daughter, Madam Gravy Ladle, and the little salts -stood at the bottom prancing like real children impatient for their -turn. When it came, they went down the middle in fine style, with a -cling! clang! that made Tony's legs quiver with a longing to join in. - -It was beautiful to see the older ones twirl round in a stately way, -with bows and courtesies at the end, while the teaspoons and small forks -romped a good deal, and Mr. Pickle and Miss Mustard kept every one -laughing at their smart speeches. The silver butter-knife, who was an -invalid, having broken her back and been mended, lay in the rack and -smiled sweetly down upon her friends, while the little Cupid on the lid -of the butter-dish pirouetted on one toe in the most delightful manner. - -When every one had gone through the dance, the napkins were arranged as -sofas and the spoons rested, while the polite forks brought sprigs of -celery to fan them with. The little salts got into grandpa's lap; and -the silver dogs lay down panting, for they had frisked with the -children. They all talked; and Tony could not help wondering if real -ladies said such things when they put _their_ heads together and nodded -and whispered, for some of the remarks were so personal that he was much -confused. Fortunately they took no notice of him, so he listened and -learned something in this queer way. - -"I have been in this family a hundred years," began the soup-ladle; "and -it seems to me that each generation is worst than the last. My first -master was punctual to a minute, and madam was always down beforehand to -see that all was ready. Now master comes at all hours; mistress lets -the servants do as they like; and the manners of the children are very -bad. Sad state of things, very sad!" - -"Dear me, yes!" sighed one of the large spoons; "we don't see such nice -housekeeping now as we did when we were young. Girls were taught all -about it then; but now it is all books or parties, and few of them know -a skimmer from a gridiron." - -"Well, I 'm sure the poor things are much happier than if they were -messing about in kitchens as girls used to do in your day. It is much -better for them to be dancing, skating, and studying than wasting their -young lives darning and preserving, and sitting by their mammas as prim -as dishes. _I_ prefer the present way of doing things, though the girls -in this family _do_ sit up too late, and wear too high heels to their -boots." - -The mustard-spoon spoke in a pert tone, and the pickle-fork answered -sharply,-- - -"I agree with you, cousin. The boys also sit up too late. I 'm tired -of being waked to fish out olives or pickles for those fellows when they -come in from the theatre or some dance; and as for that Tony, he is a -real pig,--eats everything he can lay hands on, and is the torment of -the maid's life." - -"Yes," cried one little salt-spoon, "we saw him steal cake out of the -sideboard, and he never told when his mother scolded Norah." - -"So mean!" added the other; and both the round faces were so full of -disgust that Tony fell flat and shut his eyes as if asleep to hide his -confusion. Some one laughed; but he dared not look, and lay blushing -and listening to remarks which plainly proved how careful we should be -of our acts and words even when alone, for who knows what apparently -dumb thing may be watching us. - -"I have observed that Mr. Murry reads the paper at table instead of -talking to his family; that Mrs. Murry worries about the servants; the -girls gossip and giggle; the boys eat, and plague one another; and that -small child Nelly teases for all she sees, and is never quiet till she -gets the sugar-bowl," said Grandpa Ladle, in a tone of regret. "Now, -useful and pleasant chat at table would make meals delightful, instead -of being scenes of confusion and discomfort." - -"I bite their tongues when I get a chance, hoping to make them witty or -to check unkind words; but they only sputter, and get a lecture from -Aunt Maria, who is a sour old spinster, always criticising her -neighbors."' - -As the mustard-spoon spoke, the teaspoons laughed as if they thought -_her_ rather like Aunt Maria in that respect. - -"I gave the baby a fit of colic to teach her to let pickles alone, but -no one thanked me," said the pickle-fork. - -"Perhaps if we keep ourselves so bright that those who use us can see -their faces in us, we shall be able to help them a little; for no one -likes to see an ugly face or a dull spoon. The art of changing frowns -to smiles is never old-fashioned; and lovely manners smooth away the -little worries of life beautifully." A silvery voice spoke, and all -looked respectfully at Madam Gravy Ladle, who was a very fine old spoon, -with a coat of arms on it, and a polish that all envied. - -"People can't always be remembering how old and valuable and bright they -are. Here in America we just go ahead and make manners and money for -ourselves. _I_ don't stop to ask what dish I 'm going to help to; I -just pitch in and take all I can hold, and don't care a bit whether I -shine or not. My grandfather was a kitchen spoon; but I'm smarter than -he was, thanks to my plating, and look and feel as good as any one, -though I have n't got stags' heads and big letters on my handle." - -No one answered these impertinent remarks of the sauce-spoon, for all -knew that she was not pure silver, and was only used on occasions when -many spoons were needed. Tony was ashamed to hear her talk in that rude -way to the fine old silver he was so proud of, and resolved he 'd give -the saucy spoon a good rap when he helped himself to the cranberry. - -An impressive silence lasted till a lively fork exclaimed, as the clock -struck, "Every one is coasting out-of-doors. Why not have our share of -the fun inside? It is very fashionable this winter, and ladies and -gentlemen of the best families do it, I assure you." - -"We will!" cried the other forks; and as the dowagers did not object, -all fell to work to arrange the table for this agreeable sport. Tony -sat up to see how they would manage, and was astonished at the ingenuity -of the silver people. With a great clinking and rattling they ran to and -fro, dragging the stiff white mats about; the largest they leaned up -against the tall caster, and laid the rest in a long slope to the edge -of the table, where a pile of napkins made a nice snowdrift to tumble -into. - -"What _will_ they do for sleds?" thought Tony; and the next minute -chuckled when he saw them take the slices of bread laid at each place, -pile on, and spin away, with a great scattering of crumbs like -snowflakes, and much laughter as they landed in the white pile at the -end of the coast. - -"Won't John give it to 'em if he comes in and catches 'em turning his -nice table topsy-turvy!" said the boy to himself, hoping nothing would -happen to end this jolly frolic. So he kept very still, and watched the -gay forks and spoons climb up and whiz down till they were tired. The -little salts got Baby Nell's own small slice, and had lovely times on a -short coast of their own made of one mat held up by grandpa, who smiled -benevolently at the fun, being too old and heavy to join in it. - -They kept it up until the slices were worn thin, and one or two upsets -alarmed the ladies; then they rested and conversed again. The mammas -talked about their children, how sadly the silver basket needed a new -lining, and what there was to be for dinner. The teaspoons whispered -sweetly together, as young ladies do,--one declaring that rouge powder -was not as good as it used to be, another lamenting the sad effect of -eggs upon her complexion, and all smiled amiably upon the forks, who -stood about discussing wines and cigars, for both lived in the -sideboard, and were brought out after dinner, so the forks knew a great -deal about such matters, and found them very interesting, as all -gentlemen seem to do. - -Presently some one mentioned bicycles, and what fine rides the boys of -the family told about. The other fellows proposed a race; and before -Tony could grasp the possibility of such a thing, it was done. Nothing -easier, for there stood a pile of plates, and just turning them on their -edges, the forks got astride, and the big wheels spun away as if a whole -bicycle club had suddenly arrived. - -Old Pickle took the baby's plate, as better suited to his size. The -little salts made a tricycle of napkin-rings, and rode gayly off, with -the dogs barking after them. Even the carving-fork, though not invited, -could not resist the exciting sport, and tipping up the wooden -bread-platter, went whizzing off at a great pace, for his two prongs -were better than four, and his wheel was lighter than the china ones. -Grand-papa Ladle cheered them on, like a fine old gentleman as he was, -for though the new craze rather astonished him, he liked manly sports, -and would have taken a turn if his dignity and age had allowed. The -ladies chimed their applause, for it really was immensely exciting to -see fourteen plates with forks astride racing round the large table with -cries of, "Go it, Pickle! Now, then, Prongs! Steady, Silver-top! -Hurrah for the twins!" - -The fun was at its height when young Prongs ran against Pickle, who did -not steer well, and both went off the table with a crash. All stopped -at once, and crowded to the edge to see who was killed. The plates lay -in pieces, old Pickle had a bend in his back that made him groan -dismally, and Prongs had fallen down the register. - -Wails of despair arose at that awful sight, for he was a favorite with -every one, and such a tragic death was too much for some of the -tender-hearted spoons, who fainted at the idea of that gallant fork's -destruction in what to them was a fiery volcano. - -"Serves Pickle right! He ought to know he was too old for such wild -games," scolded Miss Mustard, peering anxiously over at her friend, for -they were fond of one another in spite of their tiffs. - -"Now let us see what these fine folks will do when they get off the -damask and come to grief. A helpless lot, I fancy, and those fellows -deserve what they 've got," said the sauce-spoon, nearly upsetting the -twins as she elbowed her way to the front to jeer over the fallen. - -"I think you will see that gentle people are as brave as those who make -a noise," answered Madam Gravy, and leaning over the edge of the table -she added in her sweet voice, "Dear Mr. Pickle, we will let down a -napkin and pull you up if you have strength to take hold." - -"Pull away, ma'am," groaned Pickle, who well deserved his name just -then, and soon, thanks to Madam's presence of mind, he was safely laid -on a pile of mats, while Miss Mustard put a plaster on his injured back. - -Meanwhile brave Grandpapa Ladle had slipped from the table to a chair, -and so to the floor without too great a jar to his aged frame; then -sliding along the carpet, he reached the register. Peering down that -dark, hot abyss he cried, while all listened breathlessly for a reply, -"Prongs, my boy, are you there?" - -"Ay, ay, sir; I 'm caught in the wire screen. Ask some of the fellows to -lend a hand and get me out before I 'm melted," answered the fork, with -a gasp of agony. - -Instantly the long handle of the patriarchal Ladle was put down to his -rescue, and after a moment of suspense, while Prongs caught firmly hold, -up he came, hot and dusty, but otherwise unharmed by that dreadful fall. -Cheers greeted them, and every one lent a hand at the napkin as they -were hoisted to the table to be embraced by their joyful relatives and -friends. - -"What did you think about down in that horrid place?" asked one of the -twins. - -"I thought of a story I once heard master tell, about a child who was -found one cold day sitting with his feet on a newspaper, and when asked -what he was doing, answered, 'Warming my feet on the "Christian -Register."' I hoped my register would be Christian enough not to melt -me before help came. Ha! ha! See the joke, my dears?" and Prongs -laughed as gayly as if he never had taken a header into a volcano. - -"What did you see down there?" asked the other twin, curious, as all -small people are. - -"Lots of dust and pins, a doll's head baby put there, Norah's thimble, -and the big red marble that boy Tony was raging about the other day. -It's a regular catch-all, and shows how the work is shirked in this -house," answered Prongs, stretching his legs, which were a little -damaged by the fall. - -"What shall we do about the plates?" asked Pickle, from his bed. - -"Let them lie, for we can't mend them. John will think the boy broke -them, and he'll get punished, as he deserves, for he broke a tumbler -yesterday, and put it slyly in the ash-barrel," said Miss Mustard, -spitefully. - -"Oh! I say, that's mean," began Tony; but no one listened, and in a -minute Prongs answered bravely,-- - -"I 'm a gentleman, and I don't let other people take the blame of my -scrapes. Tony has enough of his own to answer for." - -"I'll have that bent fork for mine, and make John keep it as bright as a -new dollar to pay for this. Prongs is a trump, and I wish I could tell -him so," thought Tony, much gratified at this handsome behavior. - -"Right, grandson. I am pleased with you; but allow me to suggest that -the Chinese Mandarin on the chimney-piece be politely requested to mend -the plates. He can do that sort of thing nicely, and will be charmed -to oblige us, I am sure." - -Grandpapa's suggestion was a good one; and Yam Ki Lo consented at once, -skipped to the floor, tapped the bits of china with his fan, and in the -twinkling of an eye was back on his perch, leaving two whole plates -behind him, for he was a wizard, and knew all about blue china. - -Just as the silver people were rejoicing over this fine escape from -discovery, the clock struck, a bell rang, voices were heard upstairs, -and it was very evident that the family had arrived. At these sounds a -great flurry arose in the dining-room, as every spoon, fork, plate, and -napkin flew back to its place. Pickle rushed to the jar, and plunged in -head first, regardless of his back; Miss Mustard retired to the caster; -the twins scrambled into the salt-cellar; and the silver dogs lay down -by the carving knife and fork as quietly as if they had never stirred a -leg; Grandpapa slowly reposed in his usual place; Madam followed his -example with dignity; the teaspoons climbed into the holder, uttering -little cries of alarm; and Prongs stayed to help them till he had barely -time to drop down at Tony's place, and lie there with his bent leg in -the air, the only sign of the great fall, about which he talked for a -long time afterward. All was in order but the sauce-spoon, who had -stopped to laugh at the Mandarin till it was too late to get to her -corner; and before she could find any place of concealment, John came in -and caught her lying in the middle of the table, looking very common and -shabby among all the bright silver. - -"What in the world is that old plated thing here for? Missis told Norah -to put it in the kitchen, as she had a new one for a present -to-day--real silver--so out you go;" and as he spoke, John threw the -spoon through the slide,--an exile forevermore from the good society -which she did not value as she should. - -Tony saw the glimmer of a smile in Grand-papa Ladle's face, but it was -gone like a flash, and by the time the boy reached the table nothing was -to be seen in the silver bowl but his own round rosy countenance, full -of wonder. - -"I don't think any one will believe what I 've seen, but I mean to tell, -it was so _very_ curious," he said, as he surveyed the scene of the late -frolic, now so neat and quiet that not a wrinkle or a crumb betrayed -what larks had been going on. - -Hastily fishing up his long-lost marble, the doll's head, and Norah's -thimble, he went thoughtfully upstairs to welcome his cousins, still -much absorbed by this very singular affair. - -Dinner was soon announced; and while it lasted every one was too busy -eating the good things before them to observe how quiet the usually -riotous Tony was. His appetite for turkey and cranberries seemed to -have lost its sharp edge, and the mince-pie must have felt itself sadly -slighted by his lack of appreciation of its substance and flavor. He -seemed in a brown-study, and kept staring about as if he saw more than -other people did. He examined Nelly's plate as if looking for a crack, -smiled at the little spoon when he took salt, refused pickles and -mustard with a frown, kept a certain bent fork by him as long as -possible, and tried to make music with a wet finger on the rim of his -bowl at dessert. - -But in the evening, when the young people sat around the fire, he amused -them by telling the queer story of the silver party; but he very wisely -left out the remarks made upon himself and family, remembering how -disagreeable the sauce-spoon had seemed, and he privately resolved to -follow Madam Gravy Ladle's advice to keep his own face bright, manners -polite, and speech kindly, that he might prove himself to be pure -silver, and be stamped a gentleman. - - - - -[Illustration: "Presently she sat down and let them tap her -cheeks."--PAGE 82.] - - - - IV. - - THE BLIND LARK. - - -High up in an old house, full of poor people, lived Lizzie, with her -mother and Baby Billy. The street was a narrow, noisy place, where -carts rumbled and dirty children played; where the sun seldom shone, the -fresh wind seldom blew, and the white snow of winter was turned at once -to black mud. One bare room was Lizzie's home, and out of it she seldom -went, for she was a prisoner. We all pity the poor princesses who were -shut up in towers by bad fairies, the men and women in jails, and the -little birds in cages, but Lizzie was a sadder prisoner than any of -these. - -The prince always comes to the captive princess, the jail doors open in -time, and the birds find some kind hand to set them free; but there -seemed no hope of escape for this poor child. Only nine years old, and -condemned to life-long helplessness, loneliness, and darkness,--for she -was blind. - -She could dimly remember the blue sky, green earth, and beautiful sun; -for the light went out when she was six, and the cruel fever left her a -pale little shadow to haunt that room ever since. The father was dead; -the mother worked hard for daily bread; they had no friends; and the -good fairies seemed to have forgotten them. Still, like the larks one -sees in Brittany, whose eyes cruel boys put out that they may sing the -sweeter, Lizzie made music in her cage, singing to baby; and when he -slept, she sat by the window listening to the noise below for company, -crooning to herself till she too fell asleep and forgot the long, long -days that had no play, no school, no change for her such as other -children know. - -Every morning mother gave them their porridge, locked the door, and went -away to work, leaving something for the children's dinner, and Lizzie to -take care of herself and Billy till night. There was no other way, for -both were too helpless to be trusted elsewhere, and there was no one to -look after them. But Lizzie knew her way about the room, and could find -the bed, the window, and the table where the bread and milk stood. -There was seldom any fire in the stove, and the window was barred, so -the little prisoners were safe; and day after day they lived together a -sad, solitary, unchildlike life that makes one's heart ache to think of. - -Lizzie watched over Billy like a faithful little mother, and Billy did -his best to bear his trials and comfort sister like a man. He was not a -rosy, rollicking fellow, like most year-old boys, but pale and thin and -quiet, with a pathetic look in his big blue eyes, as if he said, -"Something is wrong; will some one kindly put it right for us?" But he -seldom complained unless in pain, and would lie for hours on the old -bed, watching the flies, which were his only other playmates, stretching -out his little hands to the few rays of sunshine that crept in now and -then, as if longing for them, like a flower in a cellar. When Lizzie -sang, he hummed softly; and when he was hungry, cold, or tired, he -called, "Lib! Lib!" meaning "Lizzie," and nestled up to her, forgetting -all his baby woes in her tender arms. - -Seeing her so fond and faithful, the poor neighbors loved as well as -pitied her, and did what they could for the afflicted child. The busy -women would pause at the locked door to ask if all was right; the dirty -children brought her dandelions from the park; and the rough workmen of -the factory opposite, with a kind word, would toss an apple or a cake -through the open window. They had learned to look for the little -wistful face behind the bars, and loved to listen to the childish voice -which caught and imitated the songs they sang and whistled, like a sweet -echo. They called her "the blind lark;" and though she never knew it, -many were the better for the pity they gave her. - -Baby slept a great deal, for life offered him few pleasures, and like a -small philosopher, he wisely tried to forget the troubles which he could -not cure; so Lizzie had nothing to do but sing, and try to imagine how -the world looked. She had no one to tell her, and the few memories grew -dimmer and dimmer each year. She did not know how to work or to play, -never having been taught, and mother was too tired at night to do -anything but get supper and go to bed. - -"The child will be an idiot soon, if she does not die," people said; and -it seemed as if this would be the fate of the poor little girl, since no -one came to save her during those three weary years. She often said, -"I'm of _some_ use. I take care of Billy, and I could n't live without -him." - -But even this duty and delight was taken from her, for that cold spring -nipped the poor little flower, and one day Billy shut his blue eyes with -a patient sigh and left her all alone. - -Then Lizzie's heart seemed broken; and people thought she would soon -follow him, now that her one care and comfort was gone. All day she lay -with her cheek on Billy's pillow, holding the battered tin cup and a -little worn-out shoe, and it was pitiful to hear her sing the old -lullabies as if baby still could hear them. - -"It will be a mercy if the poor thing does n't live; blind folks are no -use and a sight of trouble," said one woman to another as they gossiped -in the hall after calling on the child during her mother's absence, for -the door was left unlocked since she was ill. - -"Yes, Mrs. Davis would get on nicely if she had n't such a burden. -Thank Heaven, my children are n't blind," answered the other, hugging -her baby closer as she went away. - -Lizzie heard them, and hoped with all her sad little soul that death -would set her free, since she was of no use in the world. To go and be -with Billy was all her desire now, and she was on her way to him, -growing daily weaker and more content to be dreaming of dear baby well -and happy, waiting for her somewhere in a lovely place called heaven. - -The summer vacation came; and hundreds of eager children were hurrying -away to the mountains and seashore for two months of healthful pleasure. -Even the dirty children in the lane felt the approach of berry-time, and -rejoiced in their freedom from cold as they swarmed like flies about the -corner grocery where over-ripe fruit was thrown out for them to scramble -over. - -Lizzie heard about good times when some of these young neighbors were -chosen to go on the poor children's picnics, and came back with big -sandwiches buttoned up in their jackets, pickles, peanuts, and buns in -their pockets, hands full of faded flowers, and hearts brimming over -with childish delight at a day in the woods. She listened with a faint -smile, enjoyed the "woodsy" smell of the green things, and wondered if -they had nice picnics in heaven, being sorry that Billy had missed them -here. But she did not seem to care much, or hope for any pleasure for -herself except to see baby again. - -I think there were few sadder sights in that great city than this -innocent prisoner waiting so patiently to be set free. Would it be by -the gentle angel of death, or one of the human angels who keep these -little sparrows from falling to the ground? - -One hot August day, when not a breath came into the room, and the dust -and noise and evil smells were almost unendurable, poor Lizzie lay on -her bed singing feebly to herself about "the beautiful blue sea." She -was trying to get to sleep that she might dream of a cool place, and her -voice was growing fainter and fainter, when suddenly it seemed as if the -dream had come, for a sweet odor was near, something damp and fresh -touched her feverish cheek, and a kind voice said in her ear,-- - -"Here is the little bird I 've been following. Will you have some -flowers, dear?" - -"Is it heaven? Where's Billy?" murmured Lizzie, groping about her, half -awake. - -"Not yet. I'm not Billy, but a friend who carries flowers to little -children who cannot go and get them. Don't be afraid, but let me sit -and tell you about it," answered the voice, as a gentle hand took hers. - -"I thought maybe I 'd died, and I was glad, for I do want to see Billy -so much. He's baby, you know." And the clinging hands held the kind -one fast till it filled them with a great bunch of roses that seemed to -bring all summer into the close, hot room with their sweetness. - -"Oh, how nice! how nice! I never had such a lot. They 're bigger 'n' -better 'n dandelions, are n't they? What a good lady you must be to go -'round giving folks posies like these!" cried Lizzie, trying to realize -the astonishing fact. - -Then, while the new friend fanned her, she lay luxuriating in her roses, -and listening to the sweet story of the Flower Mission which, like many -other pleasant things, she knew nothing of in her prison. Presently she -told her own little tale, never guessing how pathetic it was, till -lifting her hand to touch the new face, she found it wet with tears. - -"Are you sorry for me?" she asked. "Folks are very kind, but I 'm a -burden, you know, and I 'd better die and go to Billy; I was some use to -him, but I never can be to any one else. I heard 'em say so, and poor -mother would do better if I was n't here." - -"My child, I know a little blind girl who is no burden but a great help -to her mother, and a happy, useful creature, as you might be if you were -taught and helped as she was," went on the voice, sounding more than -ever like a good fairy's as it told fresh wonders till Lizzie was sure -it _must_ be all a dream. - -"Who taught her? Could I do it? Where's the place?" she asked, sitting -erect in her eagerness, like a bird that hears a hand at the door of its -cage. - -Then, with the comfortable arm around her, the roses stirring with the -flutter of her heart, and the sightless eyes looking up as if they could -see the face of the deliverer, Lizzie heard the wonderful story of the -House Beautiful standing white and spacious on the hill, with the blue -sea before it, the fresh wind always blowing, the green gardens and -parks all about, and inside, music, happy voices, shining faces, busy -hands, and year after year the patient teaching by those who dedicate -themselves to this noble and tender task. - -"It must be better'n heaven!" cried Lizzie, as she heard of work and -play, health and happiness, love and companionship, usefulness and -independence,--all the dear rights and simple joys young creatures -hunger for, and perish, soul and body, without. - -It was too much for her little mind to grasp at once, and she lay as if -in a blissful dream long after the kind visitor had gone, promising to -come again and to find some way for Lizzie to enter into that lovely -place where darkness is changed to light. - -That visit was like magic medicine, and the child grew better at once, -for hope was born in her heart. The heavy gloom seemed to lift; -discomforts were easier to bear; and solitude was peopled now with -troops of happy children living in that wonderful place where blindness -was not a burden. She told it all to her mother, and the poor woman -tried to believe it, but said sadly,-- - -"Don't set your heart on it, child. It's easy to promise and to forget. -Rich folks don't trouble themselves about poor folks if they can help -it." - -But Lizzie's faith never wavered, though the roses faded as day after -day went by and no one came. The mere thought that it was possible to -teach blind people to work and study and play seemed to give her -strength and courage. She got up and sat at the window again, singing -to herself as she watched and waited, with the dead flowers carefully -arranged in Billy's mug, and a hopeful smile on the little white face -behind the bars. - -Every one was glad she was better, and nodded to one another as they -heard the soft crooning, like a dove's coo, in the pauses of the harsher -noises that filled the street. The workmen tossed her sweeties and -whistled their gayest airs; the children brought their dilapidated toys -to amuse her; and one woman came every day to put her baby in Lizzie's -lap, it was such a pleasure to her to feel the soft little body in the -loving arms that longed for Billy. - -Poor mother went to her work in better spirits, and the long hot days -were less oppressive as she thought, while she scrubbed, of Lizzie up -again; for she loved her helpless burden, heavy though she found it. - -When Saturday came around, it rained hard, and no one expected "the -flower lady." Even Lizzie said with a patient sigh and a hopeful -smile,-- - -"I don't believe she 'll come; but maybe it will clear up, and then I -guess she will." - -It did not clear up, but the flower lady came; and as the child sat -listening to the welcome sound of her steps, her quick ear caught the -tread of two pairs of feet, the whisper of two voices, and presently two -persons came in to fill her hands with midsummer flowers. - -"This is Minna, the little girl I told you of. She wanted to see you -very much, so we paddled away like a pair of ducks, and here we are," -said Miss Grace, gayly; and as she spoke, Lizzie felt soft fingers glide -over her face, and a pair of childish lips find and kiss her own. The -groping touch, the hearty kiss, made the blind children friends at once, -and dropping her flowers, Lizzie hugged the new-comer, trembling with -excitement and delight. Then they talked; and how the tongues went as -one asked questions and the other answered them, while Miss Grace sat by -enjoying the happiness of those who do _not_ forget the poor, but seek -them out to save and bless. - -Minna had been for a year a pupil in the happy school, where she was -taught to see with her hands, as one might say; and the tales she told -of the good times there made Lizzie cry eagerly,-- - -"Can I go? Oh, _can_ go?" - -"Alas, no, not yet," answered Miss Grace, sadly. "I find that children -under ten cannot be taken, and there is no place for the little ones -unless kind people care for them." - -Lizzie gave a wail, and hid her face in the pillow, feeling as if she -could not bear the dreadful disappointment. - -Minna comforted her, and Miss Grace went on to say that generous people -were trying to get another school for the small children; that all the -blind children were working hard to help on the plan; that money was -coming in; and soon they hoped to have a pleasant place for every child -who needed help. - -Lizzie's tears stopped falling as she listened, for hope was not quite -gone. - -"I 'll not be ten till next June, and I don't see how I _can_ wait 'most -a year. Will the little school be ready 'fore then?" she asked. - -"I fear not, dear, but I will see that the long waiting is made as easy -as possible, and perhaps you can help us in some way," answered Miss -Grace, anxious to atone for her mistake in speaking about the school -before she had made sure that Lizzie could go. - -"Oh, I 'd love to help; only I can't do anything," sighed the child. - -"You can sing, and that is a lovely way to help. I heard of 'the blind -lark,' as they call you, and when I came to find her, your little voice -led me straight to the door of the cage. That door I mean to open, and -let you hop out into the sunshine; then, when you are well and strong, I -hope you will help us get the home for other little children who else -must wait years before _they_ find the light. Will you?" - -As Miss Grace spoke, it was beautiful to see the clouds lift from -Lizzie's wondering face, till it shone with the sweetest beauty any face -can wear,--the happiness of helping others. She forgot her own -disappointment in the new hope that came, and held on to the bedpost as -if the splendid plan were almost too much for her. - -"Could I help that way?" she cried. "Would anybody care to hear me sing? -Oh, how I 'd love to do anything for the poor little ones who will have -to wait." - -"You shall. I 'm sure the hardest heart would be touched by your -singing, if you look as you do now. We need something new for our fair -and concert, and by that time you will be ready," said Miss Grace, -almost afraid she had said too much; for the child looked so frail, it -seemed as if even joy would hurt her. - -Fortunately her mother came in just then; and while the lady talked to -her, Minna's childish chatter soothed Lizzie so well that when they left -she stood at the window smiling down at them and singing like the -happiest bobolink that ever tilted on a willow branch in spring-time. - -All the promises were kept, and soon a new life began for Lizzie. A -better room and well-paid work were found for Mrs. Davis. Minna came as -often as she could to cheer up her little friend, and best of all, Miss -Grace taught her to sing, that by and by the little voice might plead -with its pathetic music for others less blest than she. So the winter -months went by, and Lizzie grew like mayflowers underneath the snow, -getting ready to look up, sweet and rosy, when spring set her free and -called her to be glad. She counted the months and weeks, and when the -time dwindled to days, she could hardly sleep or eat for thinking of the -happy hour when she could go to be a pupil in the school where miracles -were worked. - -Her birthday was in June, and thanks to Miss Grace, her coming was -celebrated by one of the pretty festivals of the school, called Daisy -Day. Lizzie knew nothing of this surprise, and when her friends led her -up the long flight of steps she looked like a happy little soul climbing -to the gates of heaven. - -Mr. Constantine, the ruler of this small kingdom, was a man whose -fatherly heart had room for every suffering child in the world, and it -rejoiced over every one who came, though the great house was -overflowing, and many waited as Lizzie had done. - -He welcomed her so kindly that the strange place seemed like home at -once, and Minna led her away to the little mates who proudly showed her -their small possessions and filled her hands with the treasures children -love, while pouring into her ears delightful tales of the study, work, -and play that made their lives so happy. - -Lizzie was bewildered, and held fast to Minna, whose motherly care of -her was sweet to see. Kind teachers explained rules and duties with the -patience that soothes fear and wins love; and soon Lizzie began to feel -that she was a "truly pupil" in this wonderful school where the blind -could read, sew, study, sing, run, and play. Boys raced along the -galleries and up and down the stairs as boldly as if all had eyes; girls -swept and dusted like tidy housewives; little fellows hammered and sawed -in the workshop and never hurt themselves; small girls sewed on pretty -work as busy as bees; and in the schoolroom lessons went on as if both -teachers and pupils were blessed with eyes. - -Lizzie could not understand it, and was content to sit and listen -wherever she was placed, while her little fingers fumbled at the new -objects near her, and her hungry mind opened like a flower to the sun. -She had no tasks that day, and in the afternoon was led away with a -flock of children, all chattering like magpies, on the grand expedition. -Every year, when the fields were white with daisies, these poor little -souls were let loose among them to enjoy the holy day of this child's -flower. Ah, but was n't it a pretty sight to see the meeting between -them, when the meadows were reached, and the children scattered far and -wide with cries of joy as they ran and rolled in the white sea, or -filled their eager hands, or softly felt for the dear daisies and kissed -them like old friends? The flowers seemed to enjoy it too, as they -danced and nodded, while the wind rippled the long grass like waves of a -green sea, and the sun smiled as if he said,-- - -"Here's the sort of thing I like to see. Why don't I find more of it?" - -Lizzie's face looked like a daisy, it was so full of light as she stood -looking up, with the wide brim of her new hat like the white petals all -round it. She did not run nor shout, but went slowly wading through the -grass, feeling the flowers touch her hands, yet picking none, for it was -happiness enough to know that they were there. Presently she sat down -and let them tap her cheeks and rustle about her ears as though telling -secrets that made her smile. Then, as if weary with so much happiness, -she lay back and let the daisies hide her with their pretty coverlet. - -Miss Grace was watching over her, but left her alone, and by and by, -like a lark from its nest in the grass, the blind girl sent up her -little voice, singing so sweetly that the children gathered around to -hear, while they made chains and tied up their nosegays. - -This was Lizzie's first concert, and no little prima donna was ever more -pelted with flowers than she; for when she had sung all her songs, new -and old, a daisy crown was put upon her head, a tall flower for a -sceptre in her hand, and all the boys and girls danced around her as if -she had been Queen of the May. - -A little feast came out of the baskets, that they might be empty for the -harvest to be carried home, and while they ate, stories were told and -shouts of laughter filled the air, for all were as merry as if there was -no darkness, pain, or want in the world. Then they had games; and -Lizzie was taught to play,--for till now she never knew what a good romp -meant. Her cheeks grew rosy, her sad little face waked up, she ran and -tumbled with the rest, and actually screamed, to Minna's great delight. - -Two or three of the children could see a little, and these were very -helpful in taking care of the little ones. Miss Grace found them -playing some game with Lizzie, and observed that all but she were -blindfolded. When she asked why, one whispered, "We thought we should -play fairer if we were all alike." And another added, "It seems somehow -as if we were proud if we see better than the rest." - -Lizzie was much touched by this sweet spirit, and a little later showed -that she had already learned one lesson in the school, when she gathered -about her some who had never seen, and told them what she could remember -of green fields and daisy-balls before the light went out forever. - -"Surely my little lark was worth saving, if only for this one happy -day," thought Miss Grace, as she watched the awakened look in the blind -faces, all leaning toward the speaker, whose childish story pleased them -well. - -In all her long and useful life, Lizzie never forgot that Daisy Day, for -it seemed as if she were born anew, and like a butterfly had left the -dark chrysalis all behind her then. It was the first page of the -beautiful book just opening before the eyes of her little mind,--a -lovely page, illustrated with flowers, kind faces, sunshine, and happy -hopes. The new life was so full, so free, she soon fell into her place -and enjoyed it all. People worked there so heartily, so helpfully, it -was no wonder things went as if by magic, and the poor little creatures -who came in so afflicted went out in some years independent people, -ready to help themselves and often to benefit others. - -There is no need to tell all Lizzie learned and enjoyed that summer, nor -how proud her mother was when she heard her read in the curious books, -making eyes of the little fingers that felt their way along so fast; -when she saw the neat stitches she set, the pretty clay things she -modelled, the tidy way she washed dishes, swept, and dusted, and helped -keep her room in order. But the poor woman's heart was too full for -words when she heard the child sing,--not as before, in the dreary room, -sad, soft lullabies to Billy, but beautiful, gay songs, with flutes and -violins to lift and carry the little voice along on waves of music. - -Lizzie really had a great gift; but she was never happier than when they -all sang together, or when she sat quietly listening to the band as they -practised for the autumn concert. She was to have a part in it; and the -thought that she could help to earn money for the Kindergarten made the -shy child bold and glad to do her part. Many people knew her now, for -she was very pretty, with the healthful roses in her cheeks, curly -yellow hair, and great blue eyes that seemed to see. Her mates and -teachers were proud of her, for though she was not as quick as some of -the pupils, her sweet temper, grateful heart, and friendly little ways -made her very dear to all, aside from the musical talent she possessed. - -Every one was busy over the fair and the concert; and fingers flew, -tongues chattered, feet trotted, and hearts beat fast with hope and fear -as the time drew near, for all were eager to secure a home for the poor -children still waiting in darkness. It was a charity which appealed to -all hearts when it was known; but in this busy world of ours, people -have so many cares of their own that they are apt to forget the wants of -others unless something brings these needs very clearly before their -eyes. Much money was needed, and many ways had been tried to add to the -growing fund, that all might be well done. - -"We wish to interest children in this charity for children, so that they -may gladly give a part of their abundance to these poor little souls who -have nothing. I think Lizzie will sing some of the pennies out of their -pockets, which would otherwise go for bonbons. Let us try; so make her -neat and pretty, and we 'll have a special song for her." - -Mr. Constantine said this; and Miss Grace carried out his wish so well -that when the time came, the little prima donna did her part better even -than they had hoped. - -The sun shone splendidly on the opening day of the fair, and cars and -carriages came rolling out from the city, full of friendly people with -plump purses and the sympathetic interest we all take in such things -when we take time to see, admire, and reproach ourselves that we do so -little for them. - -There were many children; and when they had bought the pretty handiwork -of the blind needle-women, eaten cake and ices, wondered at the strange -maps and books, twirled the big globe in the hall, and tried to -understand how so many blind people could be so busy and so happy, they -all were seated at last to hear the music, full of expectation, for "the -pretty little girl was going to sing." - -It was a charming concert, and every one enjoyed it, though many eyes -grew dim as they wandered from the tall youths blowing the horns so -sweetly to the small ones chirping away like so many sparrows, for the -blind faces made the sight pathetic, and such music touched the hearts -as no other music can. - -"Now she's coming!" whispered the eager children, as a little girl -climbed up the steps and stood before them, waiting to begin. - -A slender little creature in a blue gown, with sunshine falling on her -pretty hair, a pleading look in the soft eyes that had no sign of -blindness but their steadfastness, and a smile on the lips that trembled -at first, for Lizzie's heart beat fast, and only the thought, "I 'm -helping the poor little ones," gave her courage for her task. - -But when the flutes and violins began to play like a whispering wind, -she forgot the crowd before her, and lifting up her face, sang in clear -sweet tones. - - THE BLIND LARK'S SONG. - - We are sitting in the shadow - Of a long and lonely night, - Waiting till some gentle angel - Comes to lead us to the light; - For we know there is a magic - That can give eyes to the blind. - Oh, well-filled hands, be generous! - Oh, pitying hearts, be kind! - - Help stumbling feet that wander - To find the upward way; - Teach hands that now lie idle - The joys of work and play. - Let pity, love, and patience - Our tender teachers be, - That though the eyes be blinded, - The little souls may see. - - Your world is large and beautiful, - Our prison dim and small; - We stand and wait, imploring, - "Is there not room for all? - Give us our children's garden, - Where we may safely bloom, - Forgetting in God's sunshine - Our lot of grief and gloom." - - A little voice comes singing; - Oh, listen to its song! - A little child is pleading - For those who suffer wrong. - Grant them the patient magic - That gives eyes to the blind! - Oh, well-filled hands, be generous! - Oh, pitying hearts, be kind! - - -It was a very simple little song, but it proved wonderfully effective, -for Lizzie was so carried away by her own feeling that as she sang the -last lines she stretched out her hands imploringly, and two great tears -rolled down her cheeks. For a minute many hands were too busy fumbling -for handkerchiefs to clap, but the children were quick to answer that -gesture and those tears; and one impetuous little lad tossed a small -purse containing his last ten cents at Lizzie's feet, the first -contribution won by her innocent appeal. Then there was great applause, -and many of the flowers just bought were thrown to the little lark, who -was obliged to come back and sing again and again, smiling brightly as -she dropped pretty courtesies, and sang song after song with all the -added sweetness of a grateful heart. - -Hidden behind the organ, Miss Grace and Mr. Constantine shook hands -joyfully, for this was the sort of interest they wanted, and they knew -that while the children clapped and threw flowers, the wet-eyed mothers -were thinking self-reproachfully, "I must help this lovely charity," and -the stout old gentlemen who pounded with their canes were resolving to -go home and write some generous checks, which would be money invested in -God's savings-bank. - -It was a very happy time for all, and made strangers friends in the -sweet way which teaches heart to speak to heart. When the concert was -over, Lizzie felt many hands press hers and leave something there, many -childish lips kiss her own, with promises to "help about the -Kindergarten," and her ears were full of kind voices thanking and -praising her for doing her part so well. Still later, when all were -gone, she proudly put the rolls of bills into Mr. Constantine's hand, -and throwing her arms about Miss Grace's neck, said, trembling with -earnestness, "I 'm not a burden any more, and I can truly help! How can -I ever thank you both for making me so happy?" - -One can fancy what their answer was and how Lizzie helped; for long -after the Kindergarten was filled with pale little flowers blooming -slowly as she had done, the Blind Lark went on singing pennies out of -pockets, and sweetly reminding people not to forget this noble charity. - - - -[Illustration: Chapter IV tailpiece] - - - - -[Illustration: Tino runs away from home.--PAGE 105.] - - - - V. - - MUSIC AND MACARONI. - - -Among the pretty villages that lie along the wonderful Cornice road -which runs from Nice to Genoa, none was more beautiful than Valrose. It -deserved its name, for it was indeed a "valley of roses." The little -town with its old church nestled among the olive and orange trees that -clothed the hillside, sloping up to purple mountains towering behind. -Lower down stretched the vineyards; and the valley was a bed of flowers -all the year round. There were acres of violets, verbenas, mignonette, -and every sweet-scented blossom that grows, while hedges of roses, and -alleys of lemon-trees with their white stars made the air heavy with -perfume. Across the plain, one saw the blue sea rolling to meet the -bluer sky, sending fresh airs and soft rains to keep Valrose green and -beautiful even through the summer heat. Only one ugly thing marred the -lovely landscape, and that was the factory, with its tall chimneys, its -red walls, and ceaseless bustle. But old ilex-trees tried to conceal -its ugliness; the smoke curled gracefully from its chimney-tops; and the -brown men talked in their musical language as they ran about the busy -courtyard, or did strange things below in the still-room. Handsome -black-eyed girls sang at the open windows at their pretty work, and -delicious odors filled the place; for here the flowers that bloomed -outside were changed to all kinds of delicate perfumes to scent the hair -of great ladies and the handkerchiefs of dainty gentlemen all the world -over. - -The poor roses, violets, mignonette, orange-flowers, and their sisters, -were brought here in great baskets to yield up their sweet souls in hot -rooms where, fires burned and great vats boiled; then they were sent up -to be imprisoned in pretty flasks of all imaginable shapes and colors by -the girls, who put gilded labels on them, packed them in delicate boxes, -and sent them away to comfort the sick, please the rich, and put money -in the pockets of the merchants. - -Many children were employed in the light work of weeding beds, gathering -flowers, and running errands; among these none were busier, happier, or -more beloved than Florentino and his sister Stella. They were orphans, -but they lived with old Mariuccia in her little stone house near the -church, contented with the small wages they earned, though their clothes -were poor, their food salad, macaroni, rye bread, and thin wine, with -now and then a taste of meat when Stella's lover or some richer friend -gave them a treat on gala days. - -They worked hard, and had their dreams of what they would do when they -had saved up a little store; Stella would marry her Beppo and settle in -a home of her own; but Tino was more ambitious, for he possessed a sweet -boyish voice and sang so well in the choir, at the merrymakings, and -about his work, that he was called the "little nightingale," and much -praised and petted, not only by his mates, but by the good priest who -taught him music, and the travellers who often came to the factory and -were not allowed to go till Tino had sung to them. - -All this made the lad vain; and he hoped one day to go away as Baptista -had gone, who now sang in a fine church at Genoa and sent home gold -napoleons to his old parents. How this was to come about Tino had not -the least idea, but he cheered his work with all manner of wild plans, -and sang his best at Mass, hoping some stranger would hear, and take him -away as Signor Pulci had taken big Tista, whose voice was not half so -wonderful as his own, all had said. No one came, however, and Tino at -thirteen was still at work in the valley,--a happy little lad, singing -all day long as he carried his fragrant loads to and fro, ate his dinner -of bread and beans fried in oil, with a crust, under the ilex-trees, and -slept like a dormouse at night on his clean straw in the loft at -Mariuccia's, with the moon for his candle and the summer warmth for his -coverlet. - -One day in September, as he stood winnowing mignonette seed in a quiet -corner of the vast garden, he was thinking deeply over his hopes and -plans, and practising the last chant Father Angelo had taught him, while -he shook and held the sieve high, to let the wind blow away the dead -husks, leaving the brown seeds behind. - -Suddenly, as he ended his lesson with a clear high note that seemed to -rise and die softly away like the voice of an angel in the air, the -sound of applause startled him; and turning, he saw a gentleman sitting -on the rude bench behind him,--a well-dressed, handsome, smiling -gentleman, who clapped his white hands and nodded and said gayly, -"Bravo, my boy, that was well done! You have a wonderful voice; sing -again." - -But Tino was too abashed for the moment, and could only stand and stare -at the stranger, a pretty picture of boyish confusion, pleasure, and -shyness. - -"Come, tell me all about it, my friend. Who taught you so well? Why -are you here, and not where you should be, learning to use this fine -pipe of yours, and make fame and money by it?" said the gentleman, still -smiling as he leaned easily in his seat and swung his gloves. - -Tino's heart began to beat fast as he thought, "Perhaps my chance has -come at last! I must make the most of it." So taking courage, he told -his little story; and when he ended, the stranger gave a nod, saying,-- - -"Yes, you are the 'little nightingale' they spoke of up at the inn. I -came to find you. Now sing me something gay, some of your folk-songs. -That sort will suit you best." - -Anxious to make the most of his chance, Tino took courage and sang away -as easily as a bird on a bough, pouring out one after another the -barcaroles, serenades, ballads, and drinking-songs he had learned from -the people about him. - -The gentleman listened, laughed, and applauded as if well pleased, and -when Tino stopped to take breath, he gave another nod more decided than -the first, and said with his engaging smile,-- - -"You are indeed a wonder, and quite wasted here. If _I_ had you I -should make a man of you, and put money in your pocket as fast as you -opened your mouth." - -Tino's eyes sparkled at the word "money," for sweet as was the praise, -the idea of having full pockets bewitched him, and he asked eagerly, -"How, signor?" - -"Well," answered the gentleman, idly tapping his nose with a rose-bud -which he had pulled as he came along, "I should take you to my hotel at -Nice; wash, brush, and trim you up a little; put you into a velvet suit -with a lace collar, silk stockings, and buckled shoes; teach you music, -feed you well, and when I thought you fit carry you with me to the -_salons_ of the great people, where I give concerts. There you would -sing these gay songs of yours, and be petted, praised, and pelted with -bonbons, francs, and kisses perhaps,--for you are a pretty lad and these -fine ladies and idle gentlemen are always ready to welcome a new -favorite. Would you fancy that sort of life better than this? You can -have it if you like." - -Tino's black eyes shone; the color deepened in his brown cheeks; and he -showed all his white teeth as he laughed and exclaimed with a gesture of -delight,-- - -"Mio Dio! but I _would_, signor! I 'm tired of this work; I long to -sing, to see the world, to be my own master, and let Stella and the old -woman know that I am big enough to have my own way. Do you really mean -it? When can I go? I'm ready now, only I had better run and put on my -holiday suit and get my guitar." - -"Good! there 's a lad of spirit. I like that well. A guitar too? -Bravo, my little troubadour, we shall make a sensation in the -drawing-rooms, and fill our pockets shortly. But there is no haste, and -it would be well to ask these friends of yours, or there might be -trouble. I don't _steal_ nightingales, I buy them; and I will give the -old woman, whoever she may be, more than you would earn in a month. -See, I too am a singer, and this I made at Genoa in a week." As he -spoke, Signor Mario pulled a well-filled purse from one pocket, a -handful of gold and silver coin from the other, and chinked them before -the boy's admiring eyes. - -"Let us go!" cried Tino, flinging down the sieve as if done with work -forever. "Stella is at home to-day; come at once to Mariuccia,--it is -not far; and when they hear these fine plans, they will be glad to let -me go, I am sure." - -Away he went across the field of flowers, through the courtyard, up the -steep street, straight into the kitchen where his pretty sister sat -eating artichokes and bread while the old woman twirled her distaff in -the sun. Both were used to strangers, for the cottage was a picturesque -place, half hidden like a bird's nest in vines and fig-trees, with a gay -little plot of flowers before it; travellers often came to taste -Mariuccia's honey, for her bees fared well, and their combs were running -over with the sweetness of violets and roses, put up in dainty little -waxen boxes made by better workmen than any found at the factory. - -The two women listened respectfully while Signor Mario told his plan in -his delightfully gracious way; and Stella was much impressed by the -splendor of the prospect before her brother. But the wise old woman -shook her head, and declared decidedly that the boy was too young to -leave home yet. Father Angelo was teaching him well; he was safe and -happy where he was; and there he should remain, for she had sworn by all -the saints to his dying mother that she would guard him as the apple of -her eye till he was old enough to take care of himself. - -In vain Mario shook his purse before her eyes, Stella pleaded, and Tino -stormed; the faithful old soul would not give up, much as she needed -money, loved Stella, and hated to cross the boy who was in truth "the -apple of her eye" and the darling of her heart. There was a lively -scene in the little room, for every one talked at once, gesticulated -wildly, and grew much excited in the discussion; but nothing came of it, -and Signor Mario departed wrathfully, leaving Mariuccia looking as stern -as fate with her distaff, Stella in tears, and Tino in such a rage he -could only dash up to the loft and throw himself on his rude bed, there -to kick and sob and tear his hair, and wish there might be ten thousand -earthquakes to swallow that cruel old woman up in the twinkling of an -eye. - -Stella came to beg him to be comforted and eat his supper, but he drew -the wooden bolt and would not let her in, saying sternly,-- - -"I _never_ will come down till Mariuccia says I may go; I will starve -first. I am not a child to be so treated. Go away, and let me alone; I -hate you both!" - -Poor Stella retired, heart-broken, and when all her entreaties failed to -change their guardian's decision, she went to consult Father Angelo. He -agreed with the old woman that it was best to keep the boy safe at home, -as they knew nothing of the strange gentleman nor what might befall Tino -if he left the shelter of his own humble home and friends. - -Much disappointed, Stella went to pray devoutly in the church, and then, -meeting her Beppo, soon forgot all about the poor little lad who had -sobbed himself to sleep upon his straw. - -The house was quiet when he awoke; no lights shone from any neighbor's -windows; and all was still except the nightingales singing in the -valley. The moon was up; and her friendly face looked in at the little -window so brightly that the boy felt comforted, and lay staring at the -soft light while his mind worked busily. Some evil spirit, some naughty -Puck bent on mischief must have been abroad that night, for into Tino's -head there suddenly popped a splendid idea; at least _he_ thought it so, -and in his rebellious state found it all the more tempting because -danger and disobedience and defiance all had a part in it. - -Why not run away? Signor Mario was not to leave till next morning. -Tino could easily slip out early and join the kind gentleman beyond the -town. This would show the women that he, Tino, had a will of his own -and was not to be treated like a child any more. It would give them a -good fright, make a fine stir in the place, and add to his glory when he -returned with plenty of money to display himself in the velvet suit and -silk stockings,--a famous fellow who knew what he was about and did not -mean to be insulted, or tied to an old woman's apron-string forever. - -The longer he thought the more delightful the idea became, and he -resolved to carry it out, for the fine tales he had heard made him more -discontented than ever with his present simple, care-free life. Up he -got, and by the light of the moon took from the old chest his best suit. -Moving very softly, he put on the breeches and jacket of rough blue -cloth, the coarse linen shirt, the red sash, and the sandals of russet -leather that laced about his legs to the knee. A few clothes, with his -rosary, he tied up in a handkerchief, and laid the little bundle ready -with his Sunday hat, a broad-brimmed, pointed-crowned affair with a red -band and cock's feather to adorn it. - -Then he sat at the window waiting for dawn to come, fearing to sleep -lest he be too late. It seemed an almost endless night, the first he had -ever spent awake, but red streaks came in the east at last, and he stole -to the door, meaning to creep noiselessly downstairs, take a good hunch -of bread and a gourd full of wine and slip off while the women slept. - -To his dismay he found the door barred on the outside. His courage had -ebbed a little as the time for action came; but at this new insult he -got angry again, and every dutiful impulse flew away in a minute. - -"Ah, they think to keep me, do they? Behold, then, how I cheat the silly -things! They have never seen me climb down the fig-tree, and thought me -safe. Now I will vanish, and leave them to tear their hair and weep for -me in vain." - -Flinging out his bundle, and carefully lowering his old guitar, Tino -leaned from the little window, caught the nearest branch of the tree -that bent toward the wall, and swung himself down as nimbly as a -squirrel. Pausing only to pick several bunches of ripe grapes from the -vine about the door, he went softly through the garden and ran away -along the road toward Nice as fast as his legs could carry him. - -Not till he reached the top of the long hill a mile away, did he slacken -his lively pace; then climbing a bank, he lay down to rest under some -olive-trees, and ate his grapes as he watched the sun rise. Travellers -always left the Falcone Inn early to enjoy the morning freshness, so -Tino knew that Signor Mario would soon appear; and when the horses -paused to rest on the hill-top, the "little nightingale" would present -himself as unexpectedly as if he had fallen from heaven. - -But Signor Mario was a lazy man; and Tino had time to work himself into -a fever of expectation, doubt, and fear before the roll of wheels -greeted his longing ears. Yes, it was the delightful stranger!--reading -papers and smoking as he rode, quite blind to the beauty all around him, -blind also to the sudden appearance of a picturesque little figure by -the roadside, as the carriage stopped. Even when he looked, he did not -recognize shabby Tino in the well-dressed beggar, as he thought him, who -stood bare-headed and smiling, with hat in one hand, bundle in the -other, and guitar slung on his back. He waved his hand as if to say, "I -have nothing for you," and was about to bid the man drive on, but Tino -cried out boldly,-- - -"Behold me, signor! I am Tino, the singing boy of Valrose. I have run -away to join you if you will have me. Ah, please do! I wish so much to -go with you." - -"Bravo!" cried Mario, well pleased. "That is a lad of spirit; and I am -glad to have you. I don't steal nightingales, as I told you down yonder; -but if they get out of their cages and perch on my finger, I keep them. -In with you, boy! there is no time to lose." - -In scrambled happy Tino, and settling himself and his property on the -seat opposite, amused his new master with a lively account of his -escape. Mario laughed and praised him; Luigi, the servant, grinned as -he listened from the coach-box; and the driver resolved to tell the tale -at the Falcone, when he stopped there on his return to Genoa, so the -lad's friends might know what had become of him. - -After a little chat Signor Mario returned to his newspapers, and Tino, -tired with his long vigil and brisk run, curled himself up on the seat, -pillowed his head on his bundle and fell fast asleep, rocked by the -motion of the carriage as it rolled along the smooth road. - -When he waked, the sun was high, the carriage stood before a wayside -inn, the man and horses were gone to their dinners, and the signor lay -under some mulberry-trees in the garden while Luigi set forth upon the -grass the contents of a well-filled hamper which they had brought with -them, his master being one who looked well after his own comfort. The -sight of food drew Tino toward it as straight as a honey-jar draws -flies, and he presented himself with his most engaging air. Being in a -good humor, the new master bade the hungry lad sit down and eat, which -he did so heartily that larded fowl, melon, wine, and bread vanished as -if by magic. Never had food tasted so good to Tino; and rejoicing with -true boyish delight in the prospect of plenty to eat, he went off to -play Morso with the driver, while the horses rested and Mario took a -siesta on the grass. - -When they set forth again, Tino received his first music lesson from the -new teacher, who was well pleased to find how quickly the boy caught the -air of a Venetian boat-song, and how sweetly he sang it. Then Tino -strummed on his guitar and amused his hearers with all the melodies he -knew, from church chants to drinking-songs. Mario taught him how to -handle his instrument gracefully, speak a few polite phrases, and sit -properly instead of sprawling awkwardly or lounging idly. - -So the afternoon wore away; and at dusk they reached Nice. To Tino it -looked like an enchanted city as they drove down to it from the soft -gloom and stillness of the country. The sea broke gently on the curving -shore, sparkling with the lights of the Promenade des Anglais which -overlooks it. A half circle of brilliant hotels came next; behind these -the glimmer of villas scattered along the hillside shone like fireflies -among gardens and orange groves; and higher still the stars burned in a -violet sky. Soon the moon would be up, to hang like a great lamp from -that splendid dome, turning sea and shore to a magic world by her light. -Tino clapped his hands and looked about him with all the pleasure of his -beauty-loving race as they rattled through the gay streets and stopped -at one of the fine hotels. - -Here Mario put on his grand air, and was shown to the apartment he had -ordered from Genoa. Tino meekly followed; and Luigi brought up the rear -with the luggage. Tino felt as if he had got into a fairy tale when he -found himself in a fine parlor where he could only sit and stare about -him, while his master refreshed in the chamber beyond, and the man -ordered dinner. A large closet was given the boy to sleep in, with a -mattress and blanket, a basin and pitcher, and a few pegs to hang his -clothes on. But it seemed very nice after the loft; and when he had -washed his face, shaken the dust off, and smoothed his curly head as -well as he could, he returned to the parlor to gloat over such a dinner -as he had never eaten before. - -Mario was in a good humor and anxious to keep the lad so, therefore he -plied him with good things to eat, fine promises, and the praise in -which that vain little soul delighted. Tino went to bed early, feeling -that his fortune was made, and his master went off to amuse himself at a -gaming-table, for that was his favorite pastime. - -Next day the new life began. After a late breakfast, a music lesson was -given which both interested and dismayed Tino, for his master was far -less patient than good old Father Angelo, and swore at him when he -failed to catch a new air as quickly as he expected. Both were tired -and rather cross when it ended, but Tino soon forgot the tweaking of his -ear and the scolding, when he was sent away with Luigi to buy the velvet -suit and sundry necessary articles for the young troubadour. - -It was a lovely day; and the gay city was all alive with the picturesque -bustle which always fills it when the season begins. Red-capped -fishermen were launching their boats from the beach, flower-girls -hastening from the gardens with their fragrant loads to sell on the -Promenade, where invalids sunned themselves, nurses led their rosy -troops to play, fine ladies strolled, and men of all nations paced to -and fro at certain hours. In the older part of the city, work of all -sorts went on,--coral-carvers filled their windows with pretty -ornaments; pastry-cooks tempted with dainty dishes; milliners showed -hats fresh from Paris; and Turkish merchants hung out rich rugs and -carpets at their doors. Church-bells chimed; priests with incense and -banners went through the streets on holy errands; the Pifferoni piped -gayly; orange-women and chestnut-sellers called their wares in musical -voices; even the little scullions who go about scouring saucepans at -back doors made a song of their cry, "Casserola!" - -Tino had a charming time, and could hardly believe his senses when one -fine thing after another was bought for him and ordered home. Not only -the suit, but two ruffled shirts, a crimson tie for the lace collar, a -broad new ribbon for the guitar, handkerchiefs, hose, and delicate -shoes, as if he was a gentleman's son. When Luigi added a little mantle -and a hat such as other well-dressed lads of his age wore, Tino -exclaimed, "This also! Dio mio, never have I known so kind a man as -Signor Mario. I shall serve him well and love him even better than you -do." - -Luigi shrugged his shoulders and answered with a disagreeable laugh, -"Long may you think so, poverino; I serve for money, not love, and look -to it that I get my wages, else it would go ill with both of us. Keep -all you can get, boy; our master is apt to forget his servants." - -Tino did not like the look, half scornful, half pitiful, which Luigi -gave him, and wondered why he did not love the good signor. Later he -found out; but all was pleasant now, and lunch at a café completed the -delights of that long morning. - -The rooms were empty when they returned; and bidding him keep out of -mischief, Luigi left Tino alone for several hours. But he found plenty -of amusement in examining all the wonders the apartment contained, -receiving the precious parcels as they arrived, practising his new bow -before the long mirror, and eating the nuts that he had bought of a -jolly old woman at a street corner. - -Then he went to lounge on the balcony that ran along the front of the -hotel, and watched the lively scene below, till sunset sent the -promenaders home to dress for dinner. Feeling a sudden pang of -homesickness as he thought of Stella, Tino got his guitar and sang the -old songs to comfort his loneliness. - -The first was hardly ended before one after the other five little heads -popped out of a window farther down the balcony; and presently a group -of pretty children were listening and smiling as the nice boy played and -sang to them. A gentleman looked out; and a lady evidently listened, -for the end of a lace flounce lay on the threshold of the long window, -and a pair of white hands clapped when he finished a gay air in his best -style. - -This was his first taste of applause, and he liked it, and twanged away -merrily till his master's voice called him in just as he was beginning -to answer the questions the eager children asked him. - -"Go and dress! I shall take you down to dinner with me presently. But -mind this, _I_ will answer questions; do _you_ keep quiet, and leave me -to tell what I think best. Remember, or I pack you home at once." - -Tino promised, and was soon absorbed in getting into his new clothes; -Luigi came to help him, and when he was finished off, a very handsome -lad emerged from the closet to make his best bow to his master, who, -also in fine array, surveyed him with entire approval. - -"Very good! I thought you would make a passable butterfly when you shed -your grub's skin. Stand up and keep your hands out of your pockets. -Mind what I told you about supping soup noisily, and don't handle your -fork like a shovel. See what others do, smile, and hold your tongue. -There is the gong. Let us go." - -Tino's heart beat as he followed Mario down the long hall to the great -_salle à manger_ with its glittering _table d'hôte_ and many guests. -But the consciousness of new clothes sustained him, so he held up his -head, turned out his toes, and took his place, trying to look as if -everything was not very new and dazzling to him. - -Two elderly ladies sat opposite, and he heard one say to the other in -bad Italian, "Behold the lovely boy, Maria; I should like to paint him." - -And the other answered, "We will be amiable to him, and perhaps we may -get him for a model. Just what I want for a little Saint John." - -Tino smiled at them till his black eyes sparkled and his white teeth -shone, for he understood and enjoyed their praise. The artistic ladies -smiled back, and watched him with interest long after he had forgotten -them, for that dinner was a serious affair to the boy, with a heavy -silver spoon and fork to manage, a napkin to unfold, and three glasses -to steer clear of for fear of a general upset, so awkward did he feel. - -Every one else was too busy to mind his mistakes; and the ladies set -them down to bashfulness, as he got red in the face, and dared not look -up after spilling his soup and dropping a roll. - -Presently, while waiting for dessert, he forgot himself in something -Mario was saying to his neighbor on the other side:-- - -"A poor little fellow whom I found starving in the streets at Genoa. He -has a voice; I have a heart, and I adore music. I took him to myself, -and shall do my best for him. Ah, yes! in this selfish world one must -not forget the helpless and the poor." - -Tino stared, wondering what other boy the good signor had befriended, -and was still more bewildered when Mario turned to him with a paternal -air, to add in that pious tone so new to the boy,-- - -"This is my little friend, and he will gladly come and sing to your -young ladies after dinner. Many thanks for the honor; I shall bring him -out at my parlor concerts, and so fit him for his place by and by. Bow -and smile, quick!" - -The last words were in a sharp whisper; and Tino obeyed with a sudden -bob of the head that sent his curls over his eyes, and then laughed such -a boyish laugh as he shook them back that the gentleman leaning forward -to look at him joined in it, and the ladies smiled sympathetically as -they pushed a dish of bonbons nearer to him. Mario gave him an -indulgent look, and went on in the same benevolent tone telling all he -meant to do, till the kindly gentleman from Rome was much interested, -having lads of his own and being fond of music. - -Tino listened to the fine tales told of him and hoped no one would ask -him about Genoa, for he would surely betray that he had never been there -and could not lie as glibly as Mario did. He felt rather like the little -old woman who did not know whether she was herself or not, but consoled -himself by smiling at the ladies and eating a whole plateful of little -cakes standing near him. - -When they rose, Tino made his bow, and Mario walked down the long hall -with his hand on the boy's shoulder and a friendly air very impressive -to the spectators, who began at once to gossip about the pretty lad and -his kind protector, just as the cunning gentleman planned to have them. - -As soon as they were out of sight, Mario's manner changed; and telling -Tino to sit down and digest his dinner or he would n't be able to sing a -note, he went to the balcony to smoke till the servant came to conduct -them to Conte Alborghetti's salon. - -"Now mind, boy; do exactly as I tell you, or I 'll drop you like a hot -chestnut and leave you to get home as you can," said Mario, in a sharp -whisper, as they paused on the threshold of the door. - -"I will, signor, indeed I will!" murmured Tino, scared by the flash of -his master's black eye and the grip of his hand, as he pulled the -bashful boy forward. - -In they went, and for a moment Tino only perceived a large light room -full of people, who all looked at him as he stood beside Mario with his -guitar slung over his shoulder, red cheeks, and such a flutter at his -heart that he felt sure he could never sing there. The amiable host -came to meet and present them to a group of ladies, while a flock of -children drew near to look at and listen to the "nice singing boy from -Genoa." - -Mario, having paid his thanks and compliments in his best manner, opened -the little concert by a grand piece upon the piano, proving that he was -a fine musician, though Tino already began to fancy he was not quite so -good a man as he wished to appear. Then he sang several airs from -operas; and Tino forgot himself in listening delightedly to the mellow -voice of his master, for the lad loved music and had never heard any -like this before. - -When Tino's turn came, he had lost his first shyness, and though his -lips were dry and breath short, and he gave the guitar an awkward bang -against the piano as he pulled it round ready to play upon, the -curiosity in the faces of the children and the kindly interest of the -ladies gave him courage to start bravely off with "Bella Monica,"--the -easiest as well as gayest of his songs. It went well; and with each -verse his voice grew clearer, his hand firmer, and his eyes fuller of -boyish pleasure in his own power to please. - -For please he did, and when he ended with a loud twang and kissed his -hand to the audience as he always used to do to the girls at home, every -one clapped heartily, and the gentlemen cried, "Bravo, piccolo! He -sings in truth like a little nightingale; encore, encore!" - -These were sweet sounds to Tino; and he needed no urging to sing "Lucia" -in his softest tones, "looking like one of Murillo's angels!" as a young -lady said, while he sang away with his eyes piously lifted in the manner -Mario had taught him. - -Then followed a grand march from the master while the boy rested; after -which Tino gave more folk-songs, and ended with a national air in which -all joined like patriotic and enthusiastic Italians, shouting the -musical chorus, "Viva Italia!" till the room rang. - -Tino quite lost his head at that, and began to prance as if the music -had got into his heels. Before Mario could stop him, he was showing one -of the little girls how to dance the Salterello as the peasants dance it -during Carnival; and all the children were capering gayly about the wide -polished floor with Tino strumming and skipping like a young fawn from -the woods. - -The elder people laughed and enjoyed the pretty sight till trays of ices -and bonbons came in; and the little party ended in a general enjoyment -of the good things children most delight in. Tino heard his master -receiving the compliments of the company, and saw the host slip a paper -into his hand; but, boylike, he contented himself with a pocket full of -sweetmeats, and the entreaties of his little patrons to come again soon, -and so backed out of the room, after bowing till he was dizzy, and -bumping against a marble table in a very painful manner. - -"Well, how do you like the life I promised you? Is it all I said? Do -we begin to fill our pockets, and enjoy ourselves even sooner than I -expected?" asked Mario, with a good-natured slap of the shoulder, as -they reached his apartment again. - -"It is splendid! I like it much, very much! and I thank you with all my -heart," cried Tino, gratefully kissing the hand that could tweak -sharply, as well as caress when things suited its owner. - -"You did well, even better than I hoped; but in some things we must -improve. Those legs must be taught to keep still; and you must not -forget that you are a peasant when among your betters. It passed very -well to-night with those little persons, but in some places it would -have put me in a fine scrape. Capers! but I feared at one moment you -would have embraced the young contessa, when she danced with you." - -Mario laughed as poor Tino blushed and stammered, "But, signor, she was -so little, only ten years old, and I thought no harm to hold her up on -that slippery floor. See, she gave me all these, and bade me come -again. I would gladly have kissed her, she was so like little Annina at -home." - -"Well, well, no harm is done; but I see the pretty brown girls down -yonder have spoiled you, and I shall have to keep an eye on my gallant -young troubadour. Now to bed, and don't make yourself ill with all -those confections. Felice notte, Don Giovanni!" and away went Mario to -lose at play every franc of the money the generous count had given him -"for the poor lad." - -That was the beginning of a new and charming life for Tino, and for two -months he was a busy and a happy boy, with only a homesick fit now and -then when Mario was out of temper, or Luigi put more than his fair share -of work upon his shoulders. The parlor concerts went well, and the -little nightingale was soon a favorite toy in many salons. Night after -night Tino sang and played, was petted and praised, and then trotted -home to dream feverishly of new delights; for this exciting life was -fast spoiling the simple lad who used to be so merry and busy at -Valrose. The more he had, the more he wanted, and soon grew -discontented, jealous, and peevish. He had cause to complain of some -things; for none of the money earned ever came to him, and when he -plucked up courage to ask for his promised share, Mario told him he only -earned his food and clothes as yet. Then Tino rebelled, and got a -beating, which made him outwardly as meek as a lamb, but inwardly a very -resentful, unhappy boy, and spoiled all his pleasure in music and -success. - -He was neglected all day and left to do what he liked till needed at -night, so he amused himself by lounging about the hotel or wandering on -the beach to watch the fishermen cast their nets. Lazy Luigi kept him -doing errands when he could; but for hours the boy saw neither master -nor man, and wondered where they were. At last he found out, and his -dream of fame and fortune ended in smoke. - -Christmas week was a gay one for everybody, and Tino thought good times -had come again; for he sang at several childrens' fêtes, received some -pretty gifts from the kind Alborghettis, and even Mario was amiable -enough to give him a golden napoleon after a run of good luck at the -cards. Eager to show his people that he was getting on, Tino begged -Antoine, the friendly waiter who had already written one letter to -Stella for him, to write another, and send by a friend going that way a -little parcel containing the money for Mariuccia, a fine Roman sash for -Stella, and many affectionate messages to all his old friends. - -It was well he had that little satisfaction, for it was his last chance -to send good news or exult over his grand success. Troubles came with -the new year; and in one week our poor little jay found himself stripped -of all his borrowed plumes, and left a very forlorn bird indeed. - -Trotting about late at night in silk stockings, and getting wet more -than once in the winter rains, gave Tino a bad cold. No one cared for -it; and he was soon as hoarse as a crow. His master forced him to sing -several times in spite of the pain he suffered, and when at the last -concert he broke down completely, Mario swore at him for "a useless -brat," and began to talk of going to Milan to find a new set of singers -and patrons. Had Tino been older, he would have discovered some time -sooner that Signor Mario was losing favor in Nice, as he seldom paid a -bill, and led a very gay, extravagant life. But, boylike, Tino saw only -his own small troubles, and suspected nothing when Luigi one day packed -up the velvet suit and took it away "to be repaired," he said. It _was_ -shabby, and Tino, lying on the sofa with a headache and sharp cough, was -glad no one ordered him to go with it, for the Tramontana was blowing, -and he longed for old Mariuccia's herb tea and Stella's cosseting, being -quite ill by this time. - -That night as he lay awake in his closet coughing, feverish and -restless, he heard his master and Luigi moving about till very late, -evidently packing for Paris or Milan, and Tino wondered if he would like -either place better than Nice, and wished they were not so far from -Valrose. In the midst of his meditations he fell asleep, and when he -woke, it was morning. He hurried up and went out to see what the order -of the day was to be, rather pleased at the idea of travelling about the -world. - -To his surprise no breakfast appeared; the room was in confusion, every -sign of Mario had vanished but empty bottles and a long hotel bill lying -unpaid upon the table. Before Tino could collect his wits, Antoine came -flying in to say with wild gesticulations and much French wrath that -"the rascal Mario had gone in the night, leaving immense debts behind -him, and the landlord in an apoplexy of rage." - -Poor Tino was so dismayed he could only sit and let the storm pelt about -his ears; for not only did the waiter appear, but the chambermaid, the -coachman, and at last the indignant host himself, all scolding at once -as they rummaged the rooms, questioned the bewildered boy, and wrung -their hands over the escape of these dishonest wretches. - -"You also, little beast, have grown fat upon my good fare! and who is to -pay me for all you have eaten, not to mention the fine bed, the washing, -the candles, and the coaches you have had? Ah, great heavens! what is -to become of us when such things occur?" and the poor landlord tore his -hair with one hand while he shook his other fist at Tino. - -"Dear sir, take all I have; it is only an old guitar, and a few clothes. -Not a centime do I own; but I will work for you. I can clean saucepans -and run errands. Speak for me, Antoine; you are my only friend now." - -The lad looked so honest and ill and pathetic, as he spoke with his poor -hoarse voice, and looked beseechingly about him, that Antoine's kind -heart was melted, and he advised the boy to slip away home as soon as -possible, and so escape all further violence and trouble. He slipped -two francs into Tino's empty pocket, and as soon as the room was -cleared, helped him tie up the few old clothes that remained. The host -carried off the guitar as the only thing he could seize, so Tino had -less to take away than he brought, when Antoine led him out by the back -way, with a good sandwich of bread and meat for his breakfast, and bade -him go to the square and try to beg a ride to Valrose on some of the -carriages often going thither on the way to Genoa. - -With many thanks Tino left the great hotel, feeling too miserable to -care much what became of him, for all his fine dreams were spoiled like -the basket of china the man kicked over in the "Arabian Nights," while -dreaming he was a king. How could he go home, sick, poor, and forsaken, -after all the grand tales he had lately told in his letter? How they -would laugh at him, the men and girls at the factory! How Mariuccia -would wag her old head and say, "Ecco! is it not as I foretold?" Even -Stella would weep over him and be sorry to see her dear boy in such a -sad plight, yet what could he do? His voice was gone and his guitar, or -he might sing about the streets, as Mario described his doing at Genoa, -and so earn his daily bread till something turned up. Now he was quite -helpless, and much against his will, he went to see if any chance of -getting home appeared. - -The day was showery, and no party was setting off for the famous drive -along the Cornice road. Tino was glad of it, and went to lie on a bench -at the café where he had often been with Luigi. His head ached, and his -cough left him no peace, so he spent some of his money in syrup and -water to quell the trouble, and with the rest paid for a good dinner and -supper. - -He told his sad tale to the cook, and was allowed to sleep in the -kitchen after scrubbing saucepans to pay for it. But no one wanted him; -and in the morning, after a cup of coffee and a roll he found himself -cast upon the world again. He would not beg, and as dinner time -approached, hunger reminded him of a humble friend whom he had forgotten -in his own days of plenty. - -He loved to stroll along the beach, and read the names on the boats -drawn up there, for all were the names of saints; and it was almost as -good as going to church to read the long list of Saint Brunos, Saint -Francises, and Saint Ursulas. Among the fishermen was one who had always -a kind word for the lad, who enjoyed a sail or a chat with Marco -whenever nothing better turned up to amuse his leisure hours. Now in -his trouble he remembered him, and went to the beach to ask help, for he -felt ill as well as sad and hungry. - -Yes, there sat the good fellow eating the bread and macaroni his little -daughter had brought for his dinner, and a smile welcomed poor Tino as -he sat down beside this only friend to tell his story. - -Marco growled in his black beard and shook his knife with an awful frown -when he heard how the lad had been deserted. Then he smiled, patted -Tino's back, thrust the copper basin of food into one hand and a big -lump of the brown-bread into the other, inviting him to eat in such a -cordial way that the poor meal tasted better than the dainty fare at the -hotel. - -A draught of red wine from the gourd cheered Tino up, as did the good -and kind words, and when Marco bade him go home with little Manuela to -the good wife, he gladly went, feeling that he must lie down somewhere, -his head was so giddy and the pain in the breast so sharp. - -Buxom Teresa received him kindly, put him straight to bed in her own -boy's little room, laid a cool cloth on his hot head, a warm one on his -aching chest, and left him to sleep, much comforted by her motherly -care. It was well the good soul befriended him, for he needed help -sorely, and would have fared ill if those humble folk had not taken him -in. - -For a week or two he lay in Beppo's bed burning with fever, and when he -could sit up again was too feeble to do anything but smile gratefully -and try to help Manuela mend nets. Marco would hear of no thanks, -saying, "Good deeds bring good luck. Behold my haul of fish each day -thou hast been here, poverino! I am well paid, and Saint Peter will -bless my boat for thy sake." - -Tino was very happy in the little dark, shabby house that smelt of -onions, fish, and tar, was full of brown children, and the constant -clack of Teresa's lively tongue as she gossiped with her neighbors, or -fried polenta for the hungry mouths that never seemed filled. - -But the time came when Tino could go about, and then he begged for work, -anxious to be independent and earn a little so that in the spring he -could go home without empty pockets. - -"I have taken thought for thee, my son, and work warm and easy is ready -if thou wilt do it. My friend Tommaso Neri, makes the good macaroni near -by. He needs a boy to mind the fire and see to the donkey who grinds -below there. Food, shelter, and such wages as thou art able to earn, he -will give thee. Shall it be?" - -Tino gratefully accepted, and with hearty embraces all round went off -one day to see his new place. It was in the old part of Nice, a narrow, -dirty street, a little shop with one window full of the cheaper sorts of -this favorite food of all Italians, and behind the shop a room where an -old woman sat spinning while two little boys played with pine cones and -pretty bits of marble at her feet. - -A fat jolly man, with a shining face and loud voice, greeted Marco and -the lad, saying he "was worn to a thread with much work, since that bad -imp of a donkey-boy had run away leaving the blessed macaroni to spoil, -and poor Carmelita to perish for want of care. Come below at once, and -behold the desolation of the place." - -With that he led the way to the cellar, where a small furnace-fire -burned, and an old gray donkey went round and round, turning a wheel -which set some unseen machinery in motion with a dismal creaking sound. -Down through many holes in one part of the wooden floor overhead came -long pipes of macaroni, hardening as they hung quivering in the hot air -till stiff enough to be cut off in handfuls and laid to dry on wire -trays over the furnace. - -Tino had never seen the good macaroni made before, and was much -interested in the process, though it was of the rudest kind. In a room -upstairs a great vat of flour and water was kept stirring round and -round and forced down to the place below by the creaking wheel which -patient Carmelita turned all day. The cellar was dark but warm; and -Tino felt that it would be comfortable there with the old donkey for a -comrade, jolly Tommaso for a master, and enough to eat,--for it was -evident the family lived well, so plump and shining were all the faces, -so cheery the tempers of the old women and little lads. - -There Marco left him, well satisfied that he had done his best for the -poor boy; and there Tino lived for three months, busy, well fed, and -contented, till spring sunshine made him long for the sweet air, the -green fields, and dear faces at Valrose. Tommaso was lazy but kind, and -if the day's work was done in time, let Tino out to see Marco's children -or to run on the beach with little Jacopo and Seppi. The grandmother -gave him plenty of rye bread, thin wine, and macaroni fried in oil; old -Carmelita learned to love him and to lean her gray head on his shoulder -with joyful waggings of her long ears as he caressed her, and each week -increased the little hoard in an old shoe hidden behind a beam. - -But it was a dull life for a boy who loved music, flowers, light, and -freedom; and he soon grew tired of seeing only a procession of legs go -by the low windows level with the street; the creak of the wheel was not -half so welcome as the brisk rattle of the mill at home, and the fat -little lads always climbing over him could not be so dear as sister -Stella and pretty Annina, the wine-maker's daughter, at Valrose. Even -the kind old woman who often saved an orange for him, and gave him a gay -red cotton handkerchief on his birthday, was less to his taste than -Mariuccia, who adored him in spite of her scolding and stern ways. - -So he looked about for travellers going to Genoa; and one happy day as -he returned from church, he saw, sitting under two red umbrellas before -two easels beside the road, the two elderly ladies of the hotel. Both -wore brown hats like mushrooms; both had gray curls bobbing in the wind; -and both were painting away for dear life, trying to get a good sketch -of the ruined gateway, where passion-flowers climbed, and roses nodded -through the bars. - -Tino stopped to look, as many another passer-by had done; and glancing -up to see if he admired their work, the good ladies recognized their -"Saint John," as they called the pretty boy who had vanished before they -could finish the pictures they had begun of him. - -They were so glad to see him that he opened his heart to them, and found -to his great joy that in a week they were to drive to Genoa, and would -gladly take him along if he would sit to them meantime. Of course he -agreed, and ran home to tell his master that he must go. Tommaso -bewailed his loss, but would not keep him; and as Marco's son Beppo was -willing to take his place till another lad could be found, Tino was free -to sit in a sheepskin for the Misses Blair as often as they liked. - -It was a very happy week; and when the long-desired day came at last, -Tino was so gay he danced and sang till the dingy cellar seemed to be -full of birds in high spirits. Poor Carmelita gratefully ate the -cabbage he gave her as a farewell offering; the old woman found her box -full of her favorite snuff; and each small boy grew more shiny than ever -over a new toy presented by Tino. Tommaso wept as he held him in his -fat arms, and gave him a bundle of half-baked macaroni as a reward for -his faithful service, while Marco and all his family stood at the hotel -door to see the carriage depart. - -"Really quite like a wedding, with all those orange-flowers and roses," -said Miss Priscilla, as Teresa and Manuela threw great bunches of -flowers into their laps, and kissed their hands to the departing -travellers. - -Sitting proudly aloft, Tino waved his old hat to these good friends till -he could see them no more, then having, with some difficulty, bestowed -his long bundle from Tommaso, his basket of fish from Marco, his small -parcel of clothes, and the immense bouquet the children had made for -him, he gave himself up to the rapture of that lovely April day. - -The kind ladies had given him a new suit of clothes like the old ones, -and paid him well besides; so he felt quite content with the picturesque -peasant garments he wore, having had enough of fine feathers, and gayly -jingled the money in his pocket, though it was not the fortune he had -foolishly hoped to make so easily. He was a wiser boy than the one who -went over that road six months before, and decided that even if his -voice did come back in time, he would be in no hurry to leave home till -he was sure it was the wisest thing to do. He had some very serious -thoughts and sensible plans in his young head, and for a time was silent -and sober. But soon the delicious air, the lovely scenery, and the many -questions of the ladies raised his spirits, and he chattered away till -they stopped for dinner. - -All that long bright day they drove along the wonderful road, and as -night fell, saw Valrose lying green and peaceful in the valley as they -paused on the hill-top to enjoy its beauty. Then they went slowly down -to the Falcone, and the moment the luggage was taken in, rooms secured, -and dinner ordered, Tino, who had been quivering with impatience, said -eagerly,-- - -"Dear signoras, now I go to my own people to embrace them; but in the -morning we come to thank you for your great kindness to me." - -Miss Priscilla opened her mouth to send some message; but Tino was off -like an arrow, and never stopped till he burst into the little kitchen -where Mariuccia sat shelling dry beans, and Stella was packing -mandarinas in dainty baskets for market. Like an affectionate little -bear did the boy fall upon and embrace the two astonished women; while -Stella laughed and cried, and Mariuccia called on all the saints to -behold how tall and fat and beautiful her angel had become, and to thank -them for restoring him to their arms. The neighbors rushed in; and till -late that night there was the sound of many voices in the stone cottage -under the old fig-tree. - -Tino's adventures were listened to with the deepest interest, and a very -hearty welcome given him. All were impressed with the splendors he had -seen, afflicted by his trials, and grateful for his return. No one -laughed or reproached, but regarded him as a very remarkable fellow, and -predicted that whether his voice came back or not, he was born for good -luck and would prosper. So at last he got to bed in the old loft, and -fell asleep with the same friendly moon looking in at him as it did -before, only now it saw a quiet face, a very happy heart, and a -contented boy, glad to be safe again under the humble roof that was his -home. - -Early next morning a little procession of three went to the Falcone -bearing grateful offerings to the dear signoras who sat on the portico -enjoying the balmy air that blew up from the acres of flowers below. -First came Tino, bearing a great basket of the delicious little oranges -which one never tastes in their perfection unless one eats them fresh -from the tree; then Stella with two pretty boxes of perfume; and -bringing up the rear, old Mariuccia with a blue jar of her best honey, -which like all that of Valrose was famous. - -The ladies were much delighted with these gifts, and promised to stop -and see the givers of them on their return from Genoa, if they came that -way. Tino took a grateful farewell of the good souls; Stella kissed -their hands, with her dark eyes full of tender thanks, and Mariuccia -begged the saints to have them in their special keeping by land and by -sea, for their kindness to her boy. - -An hour later, as the travellers drove down the steep road from the -village, they were startled by a sudden shower of violets and roses -which rained upon them from a high bank beside the path. Looking up, -they saw Tino and his sister laughing, waving their hands, and tossing -flowers as they called in their musical language,-- - -"A rivederla, signoras! Grazia, grazia!" till the carriage rolled round -the corner looking as if it were Carnival-time, so full was it of -fragrant violets and lovely roses. - -"Nice creatures! how prettily they do things! I hope we _shall_ see them -again; and I wonder if the boy will ever be famous. Such a pity to lose -that sweet voice of his!" said Miss Maria, the younger of the sisters, -as they drove along in a nest of sweet and pretty gifts. - -"I hope not, for he will be much safer and happier in this charming -place than wandering about the world and getting into trouble as these -singers always do. _I_ hope he will be wise enough to be contented with -the place in which his lot is cast," answered Miss Priscilla, who knew -the world and had a good old-fashioned love for home and all it gives -us. - -She was right; Tino _was_ wise, and though his voice did come back in -time, it was no longer wonderful; and he was contented to live on at -Valrose, a busy, happy, humble gardener all his life, saying with a -laugh when asked about his runaway adventures,-- - -"Ah, I have had enough of music and macaroni; I prefer my flowers and my -freedom." - - - - -[Illustration: "Fortunately aunty came down in time to see what was -going on, and found Lu busily buttoning the waterproof."--PAGE 152.] - - - - VI. - - THE LITTLE RED PURSE. - - -Among the presents which Lu found on her tenth birthday was a pretty red -plush purse with a steel clasp and chain, just like mamma's, only much -smaller. In it were ten bright new cents, that being the sum Lu -received each week to spend as she liked. She enjoyed all her gifts -very much; but this one seemed to please her even more than the French -doll in blue silk, the pearl ring, or "Alice in Wonderland,"--three -things which she had wanted for a long time. - -"It is _so_ cunning, and the snap makes such a loud noise, and the chain -is so nice on my arm, and the plush so red and soft, I can't help loving -my dear little purse. I shall spend all the money for candy, and eat it -every bit myself, because it is my birthday, and I must celebrate it," -said Lu, as she hovered like a bee round a honey-pot about the table -where the gifts were spread. - -Now she was in a great hurry to go out shopping, with the new purse -proudly carried in her small fat hand. Aunty was soon ready, and away -they went across the pleasant Park, where the pretty babies were -enjoying the last warm days of autumn as they played among the fallen -leaves. - -"You will be ill if you eat ten cents' worth of candy to-day," said -aunty. - -"I 'll sprinkle it along through the day, and eat each kind seppyrut; -then they won't intersturb me, I am sure," answered Lu, who still used -funny words, and always got _interrupt_ and _disturb_ rather mixed. - -Just then a poor man who had lost his legs came creeping along with a -tray of little flower-pots to sell. - -"Only five cents, miss. Help an unfortnit man, please, mum." - -"Let me buy one for my baby-house. It would be sweet. Cora Pinky May -would love to have that darling little rose in her best parlor," cried -Lu, thinking of the fine new doll. - -Aunty much preferred to help the poor man than to buy candy, so the -flower-pot was soon bought, though the "red, red rose" was unlike any -ever seen in a garden. - -"Now I 'll have five cents for my treat, and no danger of being ill," -said Lu, as they went on again. - -But in a few moments a new beggar appeared, and Lu's tender heart would -not let her pass the old woman without dropping two of her bright cents -in the tin cup. - -"Do come to the candy-place at once, or I never shall get any," begged -Lu, as the red purse grew lighter and lighter every minute. - -Three sticks of candy were all she could buy, but she felt that she -could celebrate the birthday on that, and was ready to go home and begin -at once. - -As they went on to get some flowers to dress the cake at tea-time, Lu -suddenly stopped short, lifted both hands, and cried out in a tone of -despair,-- - -"My purse! my purse! I 've lost it. Oh, I 've lost it!" - -"Left it in the store probably. Come and look for it," said aunty; and -back they turned, just in time to meet a shabby little girl running -after them with the precious thing in her hand. - -"Ain't this yours? I thought you dropped it, and would hate to lose -it," she said, smiling pleasantly. - -"Oh, I should. It's spandy new, and I love it dearly. I 've got no -more money to pay you, only this candy; do take a stick," and Lu -presented the red barley sugar. - -The little girl took it gladly, and ran off. - -"Well, two sticks will do. I 'd rather lose every bit of it than my -darling purse," said Lu, putting it carefully in her pocket. - -"I love to give things away and make people happy," began Lu, but -stopped to watch a dog who came up to her, wagging his tail as if he -knew what a kind little girl she was, and wanted to be made happy. She -put out her hand to pat him, quite forgetting the small parcel in it; -but the dog snapped it up before she could save it. - -"Oh, my last stick! I did n't mean to give it to him. You naughty dog, -drop it this minute!" cried poor Lu. - -But the beautiful pink cream candy was forever lost, and the ungrateful -thief ran off, after a vain attempt to eat the flower-pot also. It was -so funny that aunty laughed, and Lu joined her, after shaking her finger -at the dog, who barked and frisked as if he felt that he had done a -clever thing. - -"Now _I_ am quite satisfied, and you will have a pleasanter birthday for -having made four people and a dog happy, instead of yourself sick with -too many goodies. Charity is a nice sort of sweetie; and I hope you -will buy that kind with your pocket-money now and then, my dear," said -aunty, as they walked on again. - -"Could I do much with ten cents a week?" asked Lu. - -"Yes, indeed; you could buy a little book for lame Sammy, who loves to -read, or a few flowers for my sick girl at the hospital, or a loaf of -bread for some hungry person, or milk for a poor baby, or you could save -up your money till Christmas, and get presents for children who -otherwise would have none." - -"Could I do all those things? I'd like to get presents best, and I -will--I will!" cried Lu, charmed with the idea of playing Santa Claus. -"I did n't think ten cents would be so useful. How long to Christmas, -aunty?" - -"About ten weeks. If you save all your pocket-money till then, you will -have a dollar to spend." - -"A truly dollar! How fine! But all that time I should n't have any -candy. I don't think I could get along without _some_. Perhaps if I -was _very_ good some one would give me a bit now and then;" and Lu -looked up with her most engaging smile and a twinkle in her eye. - -"We will see about that. Perhaps 'some one' will give extra cents for -work you may do, and leave you to decide which kind of sweeties you -would buy." - -"What can I do to earn money?" asked Lu. - -"Well, you can dry and fold the paper every morning for grandpa. I will -pay you a cent for that, because nurse is apt to forget it, and he likes -to have it nicely ready for him after breakfast. Then you might run up -and down for mamma, and hem some towels for me, and take care of Jip and -the parrot. You will earn a good deal if you do your work regularly and -well." - -"I shall have dreadful trials going by the candy-shops and never buying -any. I do long so to go in that I have to look away when you say No. I -want to be good and help poor people, but I 'm afraid it will be too -hard for me," sighed Lu, foreseeing the temptations before her. - -"We might begin to-day, and try the new plan for a while. If it is too -hard, you can give it up; but I think you will soon like my way best, -and have the merriest Christmas you ever knew with the money you save." - -Lu walked thoughtfully home, and put the empty purse away, resolved to -see how long she could hold out, and how much she could earn. Mamma -smiled when she heard the plan, but at once engaged the little girl to -do errands about the house at a cent a job, privately quite sure that -her pretty express would soon stop running. Grandpapa was pleased to -find his paper ready, and nodded and patted Lu's curly head when she -told him about her Christmas plans. Mary, the maid, was glad to get rid -of combing Jip and feeding Polly, and aunty made towel hemming pleasant -by telling stories as the little needle-woman did two hems a day. - -Every cent went into the red purse, which Lu hung on one of the gilt -pegs of the easel in the parlor, for she thought it very ornamental, and -hoped contributions might drop in occasionally. None did; but as every -one paid her in bright cents, there was soon a fine display, and the -little bag grew heavy with delightful rapidity. - -Only once did Lu yield to temptation, and that was when two weeks of -self-denial made her trials so great that she felt as if she really must -reward herself, as no one else seemed to remember how much little girls -loved candy. - -One day she looked pale, and did not want any dinner, saying she felt -sick. Mamma was away, so aunty put her on the bed and sat by her, -feeling very anxious, as scarlet-fever was about. By and by Lu took her -handkerchief out, and there, sticking to it, was a large brown -cough-drop. Lu turned red, and hid her face, saying with a penitent -sob, "I don't deserve to be cuddled. I 've been selfish and silly, and -spent some of my money for candy. I had a little cold, and I thought -cough-drops would do me good. I ate a good many, and they were bitter -and made me sick, and I 'm glad of it." - -Aunty wanted to laugh at the dear little sinner and her funny idea of -choosing bitter candy as a sort of self-denial; but she comforted her -kindly, and soon the invalid was skipping about again, declaring that -she never would do so any more. - -Next day something happened which helped her very much, and made it -easier to like the new kind of sweeties better than the old. She was in -the dining-room getting an apple for her lunch, when she saw a little -girl come to the lower door to ask for cold food. The cook was busy, -and sent her away, telling her begging was forbidden. Lu, peeping out, -saw the little girl sit down on the steps to eat a cold potato as if she -was very hungry, and while she ate she was trying to tie on a pair of -very old boots some one had given her. It was a rainy day, and she had -only a shawl over her head; her hands were red with cold; her gown was a -faded cotton one; and her big basket seemed to have very few scraps in -it. So poor, so sad, and tired did she look, that Lu could not bear to -see it, and she called out in her pitiful child's voice,-- - -"Come in and get warm, little girl. Don't mind old Sarah. I 'll give -you something to eat, and lend you my rubber boots and waterproof to go -home in." - -The poor child gladly went to sit by the comfortable fire, while Lu with -hospitable haste got crackers and cheese and cake and apples, and her -own silver mug of milk, for her guest, forgetting, in her zeal, to ask -leave. Fortunately aunty came down for her own lunch in time to see -what was going on, and found Lu busily buttoning the waterproof, while -the little girl surveyed her rubber boots and small umbrella with pride. - -"I 'm only _lending_ my things, and she will return them to-morrow, -aunty. They are too small for me, and the umbrella is broken; and I 'd -love to _give_ them all to Lucy if I could. _She_ has to go out in the -rain to get food for her family, like a bird, and I don't." - -"Birds don't need waterproofs and umbrellas," began aunty; and both -children laughed at the idea of sparrows with such things, but looked a -little anxious till aunty went on to say that Lucy could have these -comforts, and to fill the basket with something better than cold -potatoes, while she asked questions and heard the sad little story: how -father was dead, and the baby sick, so mother could not work, and the -boys had to pick up chips and cinders to burn, and Lucy begged food to -eat. Lu listened with tears in her blue eyes, and a great deal of pity -as well as admiration for poor little Lucy, who was only nine, yet had -so many cares and troubles in her life. While aunty went to get some -flannel for baby, Lu flew to her red purse and counted out ten cents -from her store, feeling so rich, so glad to have it instead of an empty -bonbon box, and a headache after a candy feast. - -"Buy some nice fresh milk for little Totty, and tell her I sent it--all -myself--with my love. Come again to-morrow, and I will tell mamma all -about you, and you shall be my poor people, and I 'll help you if I -can," she said, full of interest and good-will, for the sight of this -child made her feel what poverty really was, and long to lighten it if -she could. - -Lucy was smiling when she went away, snug and dry in her comfortable -clothes, with the full basket on her arm; and all that day Lu talked and -thought about her "own poor people," and what she hoped to do for them. -Mamma inquired, and finding them worthy of help, let her little girl -send many comforts to the children, and learn how to be wisely -charitable. - -"I shall give _all_ my money to my 'Lucy children' on Christmas," -announced Lu, as that pleasant time drew near. "I know what they want, -and though I can't save money enough to give them half the things they -need, maybe I can help a good deal, and really have a nice bundle to -s'prise them with." - -This idea took possession of little Lu, and she worked like a beaver in -all sorts of funny ways to fill her purse by Christmas-time. One thing -she did which amused her family very much, though they were obliged to -stop it. Lu danced very prettily, and often had what she called ballets -before she went to bed, when she tripped about the parlor like a fairy -in the gay costumes aunty made for her. As the purse did not fill as -fast as she hoped, Lu took it into her head one fine day to go round the -square where she lived, with her tambourine, and dance as some of the -girls with the hand-organ men did. So she dressed herself in her red -skirt and black velvet jacket, and with a fur cap on her head and a blue -cloak over her shoulders, slipped out into the quiet square, and going -to the farther corner, began to dance and beat her tambourine on the -sidewalk before a house where some little children lived. - -As she expected, they soon came running to the window, and were charmed -to see the pretty dancer whirling to and fro, with her ribbons flying -and her tambourine bells ringing, till her breath was gone. Then she -held up the instrument and nodded smilingly at them; and they threw down -cents wrapped in paper, thinking her music much better than any the -organ men made. Much encouraged, Lu went on from house to house, and -was doing finely, when one of the ladies who looked out recognized the -child, and asked her if her mother knew where she was. Lu had to say -"No;" and the lady sent a maid to take her home at once. - -That spoiled all the fun; and poor Lu did not hear the last of her prank -for a long time. But she had made forty-two cents, and felt comforted -when she added that handsome sum to her store. As if to console her for -this disappointment, after that day several bright ten-cent pieces got -into the red purse in a most mysterious manner. Lu asked every one in -the house, and all declared that they did not do it. Grandpa could not -get out of his chair without help, and nurse said she never took the -purse to him; so of course it could not be he who slipped in those -welcome bits of silver. Lu asked him; but he was very deaf that day, -and did not seem to understand her at all. - -"It must be fairies," she said, pondering over the puzzle, as she -counted her treasure and packed it away, for now the little red purse -was full. "Aunty says there are no fairies; but I like to think so. -Perhaps angels fly around at Christmas-time as they did long ago, and -love to help poor people, and put those beautiful bright things here to -show that they are pleased with me." She liked that fancy, and aunty -agreed that some good spirit must have done it, and was sure they would -find out the secret some time. - -Lucy came regularly; and Lu always tried to see her, and so learned what -she and Totty and Joe and Jimmy wanted, but never dreamed of receiving -Christmas morning. It did both little girls much good, for poor Lucy -was comforted by the kindness of these friends, and Lu learned about far -harder trials than the want of sugarplums. The day before Christmas she -went on a grand shopping expedition with aunty, for the purse now held -three dollars and seven cents. She had spent some of it for trifles for -her "Lucy children," and had not earned as much as she once hoped, -various fits of idleness and other more amusing but less profitable work -having lessened her wages. But she had enough, thanks to the good -spirit, to get toys and books and candy for her family, and went -joyfully away Christmas Eve to carry her little basket of gifts, -accompanied by aunty with a larger store of comforts for the grateful -mother. - -When they got back, Lu entertained her mother with an account of the -delight of the children, who never had such a Christmas before. - -"They could n't wait till morning, and I could n't either, and we opened -the bundles right away; and they _screamed_, mamma, and jumped for joy -and ate everything and hugged me. And the mother cried, she was so -pleased; and the boys can go to school all neat now, and so could Lucy, -only she has to take care of Totty while her mother goes to work. Oh, -it was lovely! I felt just like Santa Claus, only he does n't stay to -see people enjoy their things, and I did." - -Here Lu stopped for breath, and when she got it, had a fine ballet as -the only way to work off her excitement at the success of her "s'prise." -It was a trial to go to bed, but she went at last, and dreamed that her -"Lucy children" all had wings, and were flying round her bed with -tambourines full of heavenly bonbons, which they showered down upon her; -while aunty in an immense nightcap stood by clapping her hands and -saying, "Eat all you like, dear; this sort won't hurt you." - -Morning came very soon; and she popped up her head to see a long knobby -stocking hanging from the mantel-piece. Out of bed skipped the little -white figure, and back again, while cries of joy were heard as the -treasures appeared one by one. There was a tableful beside the -stocking, and Lu was so busy looking at them that she was late to -breakfast. But aunty waited for her, and they went down together some -time after the bell rang. - -"Let me peep and see if grandpa has found the silk handkerchief and -spectacle-case I made for him," whispered Lu, as they passed the parlor -door, which stood half open, leaving a wide crack for the blue eyes to -spy through. - -The old gentleman sat in his easy-chair as usual, waiting while nurse -got his breakfast; but what was he doing with his long staff? Lu -watched eagerly, and to her great surprise saw him lean forward, and -with the hook at the end take the little red purse off the easel, open -it, and slip in a small white parcel, then hang it on the gilt peg -again, put away the cane, and sit rubbing his hands and laughing to -himself at the success of his little trick, quite sure that this was a -safe time to play it. Lu was about to cry out, and rush in, but aunty -whispered, "Don't spoil his fun yet. Go and see what is in the purse, -then thank him in the way he likes best." - -So Lu skipped into the parlor, trying to look very innocent, and ran to -open the dear red purse, as she often did, eager to see if the good -fairy had added to the charity fund. - -"Why, here 's a great gold medal, and some queer, shaky writing on the -paper. Please see what it is," said Lu, very loud, hoping grandpa would -hear her this time, for his face was hidden behind the newspaper he -pretended to read. - -"For Lu's poor's purse, from Santa Claus," read aunty, glad that at last -the kind old fairy was discovered and ready for his reward. - -Lu had never seen a twenty-dollar gold-piece before; but she could not -stop to find out whether the shining medal was money or a locket, and -ran to grandpa, crying as she pulled away the paper and threw her arms -about his neck,-- - -"I 've found you out, I 've found you out, my dear old Santa Claus! -Merry Christmas, grandpa, and lots of thanks and kisses!" - -It was pretty to see the rosy cheek against the wrinkled one, the golden -and the silver heads close together, as the old man and the little girl -kissed and laughed, and both talked at once for a few minutes. - -"Tell me all about it, you sly grandpa. What made you think of doing it -that way, and not let any one know?" cried Lu, as the old gentleman -stopped to rest after a kindly "cuddle," as Lu called these caresses. - -"Well, dear, I liked to see you trying to do good with your little -pennies, and I wanted to help. I 'm a feeble old man, tied to my chair -and of no use now; but I like a bit of fun, and love to feel that it is -not quite too late to make some one happy." - -"Why, grandpa, you do heaps of good, and make many, many people happy," -said Lu, with another hug. "Mamma told me all about the hospital for -little children you built, and the money you gave to the poor soldiers -in the war, and ever so many more good things you 've done. I won't -have you say you are of no use now. We want you to love and take care -of; and we could n't do without you, could we, aunty?" - -Aunty sat on the arm of the chair with her arm round the old man's -shoulder, and her only answer was a kiss. But it was enough, and -grandpa went on quite cheerfully, as he held two plump hands in his own, -and watched the blooming face that looked up at him so eagerly: - -"When I was younger, I loved money, and wanted a great deal. I cared -for nothing else, and worked hard to get it, and did get it after years -of worry. But it cost me my health, and then I saw how foolish I had -been, for all my money could not buy me any strength or pleasure and -very little comfort. I could not take it with me when I died, and did -not know what to do with it, because there was so much. So I tried to -see if giving it away would not amuse me, and make me feel better about -having wasted my life instead of using it wisely. The more I gave away -the better I felt; and now I'm quite jolly, though I'm only a helpless -old baby just fit to play jokes and love little girls. You have begun -early at this pretty game of give-away, my dear, and aunty will see that -you keep it up; so that when you are old you will have much treasure in -the other world where the blessings of the poor are more precious than -gold and silver." - -Nobody spoke for a minute as the feeble old voice stopped; and the -sunshine fell on the white head like a blessing. Then Lu said very -soberly, as she turned the great coin in her hand, and saw the letters -that told its worth,-- - -"What shall I do with all this money? I never had so much, and I 'd -like to spend it in some very good and pleasant way. Can you think of -something, aunty, so I can begin at once to be like grandpa?" - -"How would you like to pay two dollars a month, so that Totty can go to -the Sunnyside Nursery, and be taken care of every day while Lucy goes to -school? Then she will be safe and happy, and Lucy be learning, as she -longs to do, and the mother free to work," said aunty, glad to have this -dear child early learn to help those less blessed than herself. - -"Could I? How splendid it would be to pay for a real live baby all -myself! How long would my money do it?" said Lu, charmed with the idea -of a living dolly to care for. - -"All winter, and provide clothes besides. You can make them yourself, -and go and see Totty, and call her your baby. This will be a sweet -charity for you; and to-day is a good day to begin it, for this is the -birthday of the Divine Child, who was born in a poorer place even than -Lucy's sister. In His name pity and help this baby, and be sure He will -bless you for it." - -Lu looked up at the fine picture of the Good Shepherd hanging over the -sofa with holly-leaves glistening round it, and felt as if she too in -her humble way was about to take a helpless little lamb in her arms and -comfort it. Her childish face was very sweet and sober as she said -softly,-- - -"Yes, I will spend my Christmas money so; for, aunty, I do think your -sort of sweetie is better than mine, and making people happy a much -wiser way to spend my pennies than in buying the nicest candy in the -world." - -Little Lu remembered that morning long after the dear old grandfather -was gone, and kept her Christmas promise so well that very soon a larger -purse was needed for charity money, which she used so wisely and so -happily. But all her life in one corner of her desk lay carefully -folded up, with the bit of paper inside, the little red purse. - - - -[Illustration: Chapter VI tailpiece] - - - - -[Illustration: "Sophie came and sat beside her while she dried her curly -hair." PAGE 178.] - - - - VII. - - SOPHIE'S SECRET. - - -,, class:: center medium - - I. - - -A party of young girls, in their gay bathing-dresses, were sitting on -the beach waiting for the tide to rise a little higher before they -enjoyed the daily frolic which they called "mermaiding." - -"I wish we could have a clam-bake; but we have n't any clams, and don't -know how to cook them if we had. It's such a pity all the boys have -gone off on that stupid fishing excursion," said one girl, in a -yellow-and-black striped suit which made her look like a wasp. - -"What is a clam-bake? I do not know that kind of fête," asked a pretty -brown-eyed girl, with an accent that betrayed the foreigner. - -The girls laughed at such sad ignorance, and Sophie colored, wishing she -had not spoken. - -"Poor thing! she has never tasted a clam. What _should_ we do if we went -to Switzerland?" said the wasp, who loved to tease. - -"We should give you the best we had, and not laugh at your ignorance, if -you did not know all our dishes. In _my_ country, we have politeness, -though not the clam-bake," answered Sophie, with a flash of the brown -eyes which warned naughty Di to desist. - -"We might row to the light-house, and have a picnic supper. Our mammas -will let us do that alone," suggested Dora from the roof of the -bath-house, where she perched like a flamingo. - -"That's a good idea," cried Fanny, a slender brown girl who sat dabbling -her feet in the water, with her hair streaming in the wind. "Sophie -should see that, and get some of the shells she likes so much." - -"You are kind to think of me. I shall be glad to have a necklace of the -pretty things, as a souvenir of this so charming place and my good -friend," answered Sophie, with a grateful look at Fanny, whose many -attentions had won the stranger's heart. - -"Those boys have n't left us a single boat, so we must dive off the -rocks, and that is n't half so nice," said Di, to change the subject, -being ashamed of her rudeness. - -"A boat is just coming round the Point; perhaps we can hire that, and -have some fun," cried Dora, from her perch. "There is only a girl in -it; I 'll hail her when she is near enough." - -Sophie looked about her to see where the _hail_ was coming from; but the -sky was clear, and she waited to see what new meaning this word might -have, not daring to ask for fear of another laugh. - -While the girls watched the boat float around the farther horn of the -crescent-shaped beach, we shall have time to say a few words about our -little heroine. - -She was a sixteen-year-old Swiss girl, on a visit to some American -friends, and had come to the seaside for a month with one of them who -was an invalid. This left Sophie to the tender mercies of the young -people; and they gladly welcomed the pretty creature, with her fine -manners, foreign ways, and many accomplishments. But she had a quick -temper, a funny little accent, and dressed so very plainly that the -girls could not resist criticising and teasing her in a way that seemed -very ill-bred and unkind to the new-comer. - -Their free and easy ways astonished her, their curious language -bewildered her; and their ignorance of many things she had been taught -made her wonder at the American education she had heard so much praised. -All had studied French and German; yet few read or spoke either tongue -correctly, or understood her easily when she tried to talk to them. -Their music did not amount to much, and in the games they played, their -want of useful information amazed Sophie. One did not know the signs of -the zodiac; another could only say of cotton that "it was stuff that -grew down South;" and a third was not sure whether a frog was an animal -or a reptile, while the handwriting and spelling displayed on these -occasions left much to be desired. Yet all were fifteen or sixteen, and -would soon leave school "finished," as they expressed it, but not -_furnished_, as they should have been, with a solid, sensible education. -Dress was an all-absorbing topic, sweetmeats their delight; and in -confidential moments sweethearts were discussed with great freedom. -Fathers were conveniences, mothers comforters, brothers plagues, and -sisters ornaments or playthings according to their ages. They were not -hard-hearted girls, only frivolous, idle, and fond of fun; and poor -little Sophie amused them immensely till they learned to admire, love, -and respect her. - -Coming straight from Paris, they expected to find that her trunks -contained the latest fashions for demoiselles, and begged to see her -dresses with girlish interest. But when Sophie obligingly showed a few -simple, but pretty and appropriate gowns and hats, they exclaimed with -one voice,-- - -"Why, you dress like a little girl! Don't you have ruffles and lace on -your dresses; and silks and high-heeled boots and long gloves and -bustles and corsets, and things like ours?" - -"I _am_ a little girl," laughed Sophie, hardly understanding their -dismay. "What should I do with fine toilets at school? My sisters go -to balls in silk and lace; but I--not yet." - -"How queer! Is your father poor?" asked Di, with Yankee bluntness. - -"We have enough," answered Sophie, slightly knitting her dark brows. - -"How many servants do you keep?" - -"But five, now that the little ones are grown up." - -"Have you a piano?" continued undaunted Di, while the others affected to -be looking at the books and pictures strewn about by the hasty -unpacking. - -"We have two pianos, four violins, three flutes, and an organ. We love -music, and all play, from papa to little Franz." - -"My gracious, how swell! You must live in a big house to hold all that -and eight brothers and sisters." - -"We are not peasants; we do not live in a hut. _Voilà_, this is my -home." And Sophie laid before them a fine photograph of a large and -elegant house on lovely Lake Geneva. - -It was droll to see the change in the faces of the girls as they looked, -admired, and slyly nudged one another, enjoying saucy Di's astonishment, -for she had stoutly insisted that the Swiss girl was a poor relation. - -Sophie meanwhile was folding up her plain piqué and muslin frocks, with -a glimmer of mirthful satisfaction in her eyes, and a tender pride in -the work of loving hands now far away. - -Kind Fanny saw a little quiver of the lips as she smoothed the blue -corn-flowers in the best hat, and put her arm around Sophie, -whispering,-- - -"Never mind, dear, they don't mean to be rude; it's only our Yankee way -of asking questions. I like _all_ your things, and that hat is -perfectly lovely." - -"Indeed, yes! Dear mamma arranged it for me. I was thinking of her and -longing for my morning kiss." - -"Do you do that every day?" asked Fanny, forgetting herself in her -sympathetic interest. - -"Surely, yes. Papa and mamma sit always on the sofa, and we all have -the hand-shake and the embrace each day before our morning coffee. I do -not see that here," answered Sophie, who sorely missed the affectionate -respect foreign children give their parents. - -"Have n't time," said Fanny, smiling too, at the idea of American -parents sitting still for five minutes in the busiest part of the busy -day to kiss their sons and daughters. - -"It is what you call old-fashioned, but a sweet fashion to me; and since -I have not the dear warm cheeks to kiss, I embrace my pictures often. -See, I have them all." And Sophie unfolded a Russia-leather case, -displaying with pride a long row of handsome brothers and sisters with -the parents in the midst. - -More exclamations from the girls, and increased interest in "Wilhelmina -Tell," as they christened the loyal Swiss maiden, who was now accepted -as a companion, and soon became a favorite with old and young. - -They could not resist teasing her, however,--her mistakes were so -amusing, her little flashes of temper so dramatic, and her tongue so -quick to give a sharp or witty answer when the new language did not -perplex her. But Fanny always took her part, and helped her in many -ways. Now they sat together on the rock, a pretty pair of mermaids with -wind-tossed hair, wave-washed feet, and eyes fixed on the approaching -boat. - -The girl who sat in it was a great contrast to the gay creatures grouped -so picturesquely on the shore, for the old straw hat shaded a very -anxious face, the brown calico gown covered a heart full of hopes and -fears, and the boat that drifted so slowly with the incoming tide -carried Tilly Reed like a young Columbus toward the new world she longed -for, believed in, and was resolved to discover. - -It was a weather-beaten little boat, yet very pretty; for a pile of nets -lay at one end, a creel of red lobsters at the other, and all between -stood baskets of berries and water-lilies, purple marsh rosemary and -orange butterfly-weed, shells and great smooth stones such as artists -like to paint little sea-views on. A tame gull perched on the prow; and -the morning sunshine glittered from the blue water to the bluer sky. - -"Oh, how pretty! Come on, please, and sell us some lilies," cried Dora, -and roused Tilly from her waking dream. - -Pushing back her hat, she saw the girls beckoning, felt that the -critical moment had come, and catching up her oars, rowed bravely on, -though her cheeks reddened and her heart beat, for this venture was her -last hope, and on its success depended the desire of her life. As the -boat approached, the watchers forgot its cargo to look with surprise and -pleasure at its rower, for she was not the rough country lass they -expected to see, but a really splendid girl of fifteen, tall, -broad-shouldered, bright-eyed, and blooming, with a certain shy dignity -of her own and a very sweet smile, as she nodded and pulled in with -strong, steady strokes. Before they could offer help, she had risen, -planted an oar in the water, and leaping to the shore, pulled her boat -high up on the beach, offering her wares with wistful eyes and a very -expressive wave of both brown hands. - -"Everything is for sale, if you 'll buy," said she. - -Charmed with the novelty of this little adventure, the girls, after -scampering to the bathing-houses for purses and portemonnaies, crowded -around the boat like butterflies about a thistle, all eager to buy, and -to discover who this bonny fisher-maiden might be. - -"Oh, see these beauties!" "A dozen lilies for me!" "All the yellow -flowers for me, they'll be so becoming at the dance to-night!" "Ow! that -lob bites awfully!" "Where do you come from?" "Why have we never seen -you before?" - -These were some of the exclamations and questions showered upon Tilly, -as she filled little birch-bark panniers with berries, dealt out -flowers, or dispensed handfuls of shells. Her eyes shone, her cheeks -glowed, and her heart danced in her bosom; for this was a better -beginning than she had dared to hope for, and as the dimes tinkled into -the tin pail she used for her till, it was the sweetest music she had -ever heard. This hearty welcome banished her shyness; and in these -eager, girlish customers she found it easy to confide. - -"I 'm from the light-house. You have never seen me because I never came -before, except with fish for the hotel. But I mean to come every day, -if folks will buy my things, for I want to make some money, and this is -the only way in which I can do it." - -Sophie glanced at the old hat and worn shoes of the speaker, and -dropping a bright half-dollar into the pail, said in her pretty way: - -"For me all these lovely shells. I will make necklaces of them for my -people at home as souvenirs of this charming place. If you will bring -me more, I shall be much grateful to you." - -"Oh, thank you! I 'll bring heaps; I know where to find beauties in -places where other folks can't go. Please take these; you paid too much -for the shells;" and quick to feel the kindness of the stranger, Tilly -put into her hands a little bark canoe heaped with red raspberries. - -Not to be outdone by the foreigner, the other girls emptied their purses -and Tilly's boat also of all but the lobsters, which were ordered for -the hotel. - -"Is that jolly bird for sale?" asked Di, as the last berry vanished, -pointing to the gull who was swimming near them while the chatter went -on. - -"If you can catch him," laughed Tilly, whose spirits were now the gayest -of the party. - -The girls dashed into the water, and with shrieks of merriment swam away -to capture the gull, who paddled off as if he enjoyed the fun as much as -they. - -Leaving them to splash vainly to and fro, Tilly swung the creel to her -shoulder and went off to leave her lobsters, longing to dance and sing -to the music of the silver clinking in her pocket. - -When she came back, the bird was far out of reach and the girls diving -from her boat, which they had launched without leave. Too happy to care -what happened now, Tilly threw herself down on the warm sand to plan a -new and still finer cargo for next day. - -Sophie came and sat beside her while she dried her curly hair, and in -five minutes her sympathetic face and sweet ways had won Tilly to tell -all her hopes and cares and dreams. - -"I want schooling, and I mean to have it. I 've got no folks of my own; -and uncle has married again, so he does n't need me now. If I only had a -little money, I could go to school somewhere, and take care of myself. -Last summer I worked at the hotel, but I did n't make much, and had to -have good clothes, and that took my wages pretty much. Sewing is slow -work, and baby-tending leaves me no time to study; so I 've kept on at -home picking berries and doing what I could to pick up enough to buy -books. Aunt thinks I 'm a fool; but uncle, he says, 'Go ahead, girl, -and see what you can do.' And I mean to show him!" - -Tilly's brown hand came down on the sand with a resolute thump; and her -clear young eyes looked bravely out across the wide sea, as if far away -in the blue distance she saw her hope happily fulfilled. - -Sophie's eyes shone approval, for she understood this love of -independence, and had come to America because she longed for new scenes -and greater freedom than her native land could give her. Education is a -large word, and both girls felt that desire for self-improvement that -comes to all energetic natures. Sophie had laid a good foundation, but -still desired more; while Tilly was just climbing up the first steep -slope which rises to the heights few attain, yet all may strive for. - -"That is beautiful! You will do it! I am glad to help you if I may. -See, I have many books; will you take some of them? Come to my room -to-morrow and take what will best please you. We will say nothing of -it, and it will make me a truly great pleasure." - -As Sophie spoke, her little white hand touched the strong, sunburned one -that turned to meet and grasp hers with grateful warmth, while Tilly's -face betrayed the hunger that possessed her, for it looked as a starving -girl's would look when offered a generous meal. - -"I _will_ come. Thank you so much! I don't know anything, but just -blunder along and do the best I can. I got so discouraged I was real -desperate, and thought I 'd have one try, and see if I could n't earn -enough to get books to study this winter. Folks buy berries at the -cottages; so I just added flowers and shells, and I 'm going to bring my -boxes of butterflies, birds' eggs, and seaweeds. I 've got lots of such -things; and people seem to like spending money down here. I often wish -I had a little of what they throw away." - -Tilly paused with a sigh, then laughed as an impatient movement caused a -silver clink; and slapping her pocket, she added gayly,-- - -"I won't blame 'em if they 'll only throw their money in here." - -Sophie's hand went involuntarily toward her own pocket, where lay a -plump purse, for papa was generous, and simple Sophie had few wants. But -something in the intelligent face opposite made her hesitate to offer as -a gift what she felt sure Tilly would refuse, preferring to earn her -education if she could. - -"Come often, then, and let me exchange these stupid bills for the lovely -things you bring. We will come this afternoon to see you if we may, and -I shall like the butterflies. I try to catch them; but people tell me I -am too old to run, so I have not many." - -Proposed in this way, Tilly fell into the little trap, and presently -rowed away with all her might to set her possessions in order, and put -her precious earnings in a safe place. The mermaids clung about the -boat as long as they dared, making a pretty tableau for the artists on -the rocks, then swam to shore, more than ever eager for the picnic on -Light-house Island. - -They went, and had a merry time; while Tilly did the honors and showed -them a room full of treasures gathered from earth, air, and water, for -she led a lonely life, and found friends among the fishes, made -playmates of the birds, and studied rocks and flowers, clouds and waves, -when books were wanting. - -The girls bought gulls' wings for their hats, queer and lovely shells, -eggs and insects, seaweeds and carved wood, and for their small -brothers, birch baskets and toy ships, made by Uncle Hiram, who had been -a sailor. - -When Tilly had sold nearly everything she possessed (for Fanny and -Sophie bought whatever the others declined), she made a fire of -drift-wood on the rocks, cooked fish for supper, and kept them till -moonrise, telling sea stories or singing old songs, as if she could not -do enough for these good fairies who had come to her when life looked -hardest and the future very dark. Then she rowed them home, and -promising to bring loads of fruit and flowers every day, went back along -a shining road, to find a great bundle of books in her dismantled room, -and to fall asleep with wet eyelashes and a happy heart. - - - -,, class:: center medium - - II. - - -For a month Tilly went daily to the Point with a cargo of pretty -merchandise, for her patrons increased; and soon the ladies engaged her -berries, the boys ordered boats enough to supply a navy, the children -clamored for shells, and the girls depended on her for bouquets and -garlands for the dances that ended every summer day. Uncle Hiram's fish -was in demand when such a comely saleswoman offered it; so he let Tilly -have her way, glad to see the old tobacco-pouch in which she kept her -cash fill fast with well-earned money. - -She really began to feel that her dream was coming true, and she would -be able to go to the town and study in some great school, eking out her -little fund with light work. The other girls soon lost their interest -in her, but Sophie never did; and many a book went to the island in the -empty baskets, many a helpful word was said over the lilies or wild -honeysuckle Sophie loved to wear, and many a lesson was given in the -bare room in the light-house tower which no one knew about but the gulls -and the sea-winds sweeping by the little window where the two heads -leaned together over one page. - -"You will do it, Tilly, I am very sure. Such a will and such a memory -will make a way for you; and one day I shall see you teaching as you -wish. Keep the brave heart, and all will be well with you," said -Sophie, when the grand breaking-up came in September, and the girls were -parting down behind the deserted bathhouses. - -"Oh, Miss Sophie, what should I have done without you? Don't think I -have n't seen and known all the kind things you have said and done for -me. I 'll never forget 'em; and I do hope I 'll be able to thank you -some day," cried grateful Tilly, with tears in her clear eyes that -seldom wept over her own troubles. - -"I am thanked if you do well. Adieu; write to me, and remember always -that I am your friend." - -Then they kissed with girlish warmth, and Tilly rowed away to the lonely -island; while Sophie lingered on the shore, her handkerchief fluttering -in the wind, till the boat vanished and the waves had washed away their -footprints on the sand. - - - -,, class:: center medium - - III. - - -December snow was falling fast, and the wintry wind whistled through the -streets; but it was warm and cosey in the luxurious parlor where Di and -Do were sitting making Christmas presents, and planning what they would -wear at the party Fanny was to give on Christmas Eve. - -"If I can get mamma to buy me a new dress, I shall have something -yellow. It is always becoming to brunettes, and I 'm so tired of red," -said Di, giving a last touch to the lace that trimmed a blue satin -_sachet_ for Fanny. - -"That will be lovely. I shall have pink, with roses of the same color. -Under muslin it is perfectly sweet." And Dora eyed the sunflower she -was embroidering as if she already saw the new toilet before her. - -"Fan always wears blue, so we shall make a nice contrast. She is coming -over to show me about finishing off my banner-screen; and I asked Sophie -to come with her. I want to know what _she_ is going to wear," said Di, -taking a little sniff at the violet-scented bag. - -"That old white cashmere. Just think! I asked her why she did n't get -a new one, and she laughed and said she could n't afford it. Fan told me -Sophie's father sent her a hundred dollars not long ago, yet she has n't -got a thing that we know of. I do think she 's mean." - -"She bought a great bundle of books. I was there when the parcel came, -and I peeped while she was out of the room, because she put it away in a -great hurry. I 'm afraid she _is_ mean, for she never buys a bit of -candy, and she wears shabby boots and gloves, and she has made over her -old hat instead of having that lovely one with the pheasant's breast in -it." - -"She's very queer; but I can't help liking her, she's so pretty and -bright and obliging. I 'd give anything if I could speak three languages -and play as she does." - -"So would I. It seems so elegant to be able to talk to foreigners. -Papa had some Frenchmen to dinner the other day, and they were so -pleased to find they need n't speak English to Sophie. I could n't get -on at all; and I was so mortified when papa said all the money he had -spent on my languages was thrown away." - -"I would n't mind. It's so much easier to learn those things abroad, -she would be a goose if she did n't speak French better than we do. -There's Fan! she looks as if something had happened. I hope no one is -ill and the party spoiled." - -As Dora spoke, both girls looked out to see Fanny shaking the snow from -her seal-skin sack on the doorstep; then Do hastened to meet her, while -Di hid the _sachet_, and was hard at work on an old-gold sofa cushion -when the new-comer entered. - -"What's the matter? Where's Sophie?" exclaimed the girls together, as -Fan threw off her wraps and sat down with a tragic sigh. - -"She will be along in a few minutes. I 'm disappointed in her! I would -n't have believed it if I had n't seen them. Promise not to breathe a -word to a living soul, and I 'll tell you something dreadful," began -Fanny, in a tone that caused her friends to drop their work and draw -their chairs nearer, as they solemnly vowed eternal silence. - -"I 've seen Sophie's Christmas presents,--all but mine; and they are -just nothing at all! She has n't bought a thing, not even ribbons, -lace, or silk, to make up prettily as we do. Only a painted shell for -one, an acorn emery for another, her ivory fan with a new tassel for a -third, and I suspect one of those nice handkerchiefs embroidered by the -nuns for me, or her silver filigree necklace. I saw the box in the -drawer with the other things. She's knit woollen cuffs and tippets for -the children, and got some eight-cent calico gowns for the servants. I -don't know how people do things in Switzerland, but I do know that if -_I_ had a hundred dollars in my pocket, I would be more generous than -that!" - -As Fanny paused, out of breath, Di and Do groaned in sympathy, for this -was indeed a sad state of things; because the girls had a code that -Christmas being the season for gifts, extravagance would be forgiven -then as at no other time. - -"I have a lovely smelling-bottle for her; but I 've a great mind not to -give it now," cried Di, feeling defrauded of the bracelet she had -plainly hinted she would like. - -"I shall heap coals of fire on her head by giving her _that_;" and Dora -displayed a very useless but very pretty apron of muslin, lace, and -carnation ribbon. - -"It is n't the worth of the things. I don't care for that so much as I -do for being disappointed in her; and I have been lately in more ways -than one," said Fanny, listlessly taking up the screen she was to -finish. "She used to tell me everything, and now she does n't. I 'm -sure she has some sort of a secret; and I do think _I_ ought to know it. -I found her smiling over a letter one day; and she whisked it into her -pocket and never said a word about it. I always stood by her, and I do -feel hurt." - -"I should think you might! It's real naughty of her, and I shall tell -her so! Perhaps she 'll confide in you then, and you can just give _me_ -a hint; I always liked Sophie, and never thought of not giving _my_ -present," said Dora, persuasively, for both girls were now dying with -curiosity to know the secret. - -"I 'll have it out of her, without any dodging or bribing. I 'm not -afraid of any one, and I shall ask her straight out, no matter how much -she scowls at me," said dauntless Di, with a threatening nod. - -"There she is! Let us see you do it now!" cried Fanny, as the bell -rang, and a clear voice was heard a moment later asking if Mademoiselle -was in. - -"You shall!" and Di looked ready for any audacity. - -"I 'll wager a box of candy that you don't find out a thing," whispered -Do. - -"Done!" answered Di, and then turned to meet Sophie, who came in looking -as fresh as an Alpine rose with the wintry wind. - -"You dear thing! we were just talking of you. Sit here and get warm, and -let us show you our gifts. We are almost done, but it seems as if it -got to be a harder job each Christmas. Don't you find it so?" - -"But no; I think it the most charming work of all the year," answered -Sophie, greeting her friend, and putting her well-worn boots toward the -fire to dry. - -"Perhaps you don't make as much of Christmas as we do, or give such -expensive presents. That would make a great difference, you know," said -Di, as she lifted a cloth from the table where her own generous store of -gifts was set forth. - -"I had a piano last year, a set of jewels, and many pretty trifles from -all at home. Here is one;" and pulling the fine gold chain hidden under -her frills, Sophie showed a locket set thick with pearls, containing a -picture of her mother. - -"It must be so nice to be rich, and able to make such fine presents. I -'ve got something for you; but I shall be ashamed of it after I see your -gift to me, I 'm afraid." - -Fan and Dora were working as if their bread depended on it, while Di, -with a naughty twinkle in her eye, affected to be rearranging her pretty -table as she talked. - -"Do not fear that; my gifts this year are very simple ones. I did not -know your custom, and now it is too late. My comfort is that you need -nothing, and having so much, you will not care for my--what you -call--coming short." - -Was it the fire that made Sophie's face look so hot, and a cold that -gave a husky sort of tone to her usually clear voice? A curious -expression came into her face as her eyes roved from the table to the -gay trifles in her friend's hands; and she opened her lips as if to add -something impulsively. But nothing came, and for a moment she looked -straight out at the storm as if she had forgotten where she was. - -"'Shortcoming' is the proper way to speak it But never mind that, and -tell me why you say 'too late'?" asked Di, bent on winning her wager. - -"Christmas comes in three days, and I have no time," began Sophie. - -"But with money one can buy plenty of lovely things in one day," said -Di. - -"No, it is better to put a little love and hard work into what we give -to friends, I have done that with my trifles, and another year I shall -be more ready." - -There was an uncomfortable pause, for Sophie did not speak with her -usual frankness, but looked both proud and ashamed, and seemed anxious -to change the subject, as she began to admire Dora's work, which had -made very little progress during the last fifteen minutes. - -Fanny glanced at Di with a smile that made the other toss her head and -return to the charge with renewed vigor. - -"Sophie, will you do me a favor?" - -"With much pleasure." - -"Do has promised me a whole box of French bonbons, and if you will -answer three questions, you shall have it." - -"_Allons_," said Sophie, smiling. - -"Haven't you a secret?" asked Di, gravely. - -"Yes." - -"Will you tell us?" - -"No." - -Di paused before she asked her last question, and Fan and Dora waited -breathlessly, while Sophie knit her brows and looked uneasy. - -"Why not?" - -"Because I do not wish to tell it." - -"Will you tell if we guess?" - -"Try." - -"You are engaged." - -At this absurd suggestion Sophie laughed gayly, and shook her curly -head. - -"Do you think we are betrothed at sixteen in my country?" - -"I _know_ that is an engagement ring,--you made such a time about it -when you lost it in the water, and cried for joy when Tilly dived and -found it." - -"Ah, yes, I was truly glad. Dear Tilly, never do I forget that -kindness!" and Sophie kissed the little pearl ring in her impulsive way, -while her eyes sparkled and the frown vanished. - -"I _know_ a sweetheart gave it," insisted Di, sure now she had found a -clew to the secret. - -"He did," and Sophie hung her head in a sentimental way that made the -three girls crowd nearer with faces full of interest. - -"Do tell us all about it, dear. It's so interesting to hear -love-stories. What is his name?" cried Dora. - -"Hermann," simpered Sophie, drooping still more, while her lips trembled -with suppressed emotion of some sort. - -"How lovely!" sighed Fanny, who was very romantic. - -"Tell on, do! Is he handsome?" - -"To me the finest man in all the world," confessed Sophie, as she hid -her face. - -"And you love him?" - -"I adore him!" and Sophie clasped her hands so dramatically that the -girls were a little startled, yet charmed at this discovery. - -"Have you his picture?" asked Di, feeling that she had won her wager -now. - -"Yes," and pulling out the locket again, Sophie showed in the other side -the face of a fine old gentleman who looked very like herself. - -"It's your father!" exclaimed Fanny, rolling her blue eyes excitedly. -"You are a humbug!" cried Dora. "Then you fibbed about the ring," said -Di, crossly. - -"Never! It is mamma's betrothal ring; but her finger grew too plump, -and when I left home she gave the ring to me as a charm to keep me safe. -Ah, ha! I have my little joke as well as you, and the laugh is for me -this time." And falling back among the sofa cushions, Sophie enjoyed it -as only a gay girl could. Do and Fanny joined her; but Di was much -disgusted, and vowed she _would_ discover the secret and keep all the -bonbons to herself. - -"You are most welcome; but I will not tell until I like, and then to -Fanny first. She will not have ridicule for what I do, but say it is -well, and be glad with me. Come now and work. I will plait these -ribbons, or paint a wild rose on this pretty fan. It is too plain now. -Will you that I do it, dear Di?" - -The kind tone and the prospect of such an ornament to her gift appeased -Di somewhat; but the mirthful malice in Sophie's eyes made the other -more than ever determined to be even with her by and by. - -Christmas Eve came, and found Di still in the dark, which fact nettled -her sadly, for Sophie tormented her and amused the other girls by -pretended confidences and dark hints at the mystery which might never, -never be disclosed. - -Fan had determined to have an unusually jolly party; so she invited only -her chosen friends, and opened the festivities with a Christmas tree, as -the prettiest way of exchanging gifts and providing jokes for the -evening in the shape of delusive bottles, animals full of candy, and -every sort of musical instrument to be used in an impromptu concert -afterward. The presents to one another were done up in secure parcels, -so that they might burst upon the public eye in all their freshness. Di -was very curious to know what Fan was going to give her,--for Fanny was -a generous creature and loved to give. Di was a little jealous of her -love for Sophie, and could n't rest till she discovered which was to get -the finer gift. - -So she went early and slipped into the room where the tree stood, to -peep and pick a bit, as well as to hang up a few trifles of her own. -She guessed several things by feeling the parcels; but one excited her -curiosity intensely, and she could not resist turning it about and -pulling up one corner of the lid. It was a flat box, prettily -ornamented with sea-weeds like red lace, and tied with scarlet ribbons. -A tantalizing glimpse of jeweller's cotton, gold clasps, and something -rose-colored conquered Di's last scruples; and she was just about to -untie the ribbons when she heard Fanny's voice, and had only time to -replace the box, pick up a paper that had fallen out of it, and fly up -the back stairs to the dressing-room, where she found Sophie and Dora -surveying each other as girls always do before they go down. - -"You look like a daisy," cried Di, admiring Dora with great interest, -because she felt ashamed of her prying, and the stolen note in her -pocket. - -"And you like a dandelion," returned Do, falling back a step to get a -good view of Di's gold-colored dress and black velvet bows. - -"Sophie is a lily of the valley, all in green and white," added Fanny, -coming in with her own blue skirts waving in the breeze. - -"It does me very well. Little girls do not need grand toilets, and I am -fine enough for a 'peasant,'" laughed Sophie, as she settled the fresh -ribbons on her simple white cashmere and the holly wreath in her brown -hair, but secretly longing for the fine dress she might have had. - -"Why didn't you wear your silver necklace? It would be lovely on your -pretty neck," said Di, longing to know if she had given the trinket -away. - -But Sophie was not to be caught, and said with a contented smile, "I do -not care for ornaments unless some one I love gives me them. I had red -roses for my _bouquet de corsage_; but the poor Madame Page was so -_triste_, I left them on her table to remember her of me. It seemed so -heartless to go and dance while she had only pain; but she wished it." - -"Dear little Sophie, how good you are!" and warm-hearted Fan kissed the -blooming face that needed no roses to make it sweet and gay. - -Half an hour later, twenty girls and boys were dancing round the -brilliant tree. Then its boughs were stripped. Every one seemed -contented; even Sophie's little gifts gave pleasure, because with each -went a merry or affectionate verse, which made great fun on being read -aloud. She was quite loaded with pretty things, and had no words to -express her gratitude and pleasure. - -"Ah, you are all so good to me! and I have nothing beautiful for you. I -receive much and give little, but I cannot help it! Wait a little and I -will redeem myself," she said to Fanny, with eyes full of tears, and a -lap heaped with gay and useful things. - -"Never mind that now; but look at this, for here's still another -offering of friendship, and a very charming one, to judge by the -outside," answered Fan, bringing the white box with the sea-weed -ornaments. - -Sophie opened it, and cries of admiration followed, for lying on the -soft cotton was a lovely set of coral. Rosy pink branches, highly -polished and fastened with gold clasps, formed necklace, bracelets, and -a spray for the bosom. No note or card appeared, and the girls crowded -round to admire and wonder who could have sent so valuable a gift. - -"Can't you guess, Sophie?" cried Dora, longing to own the pretty things. - -"I should believe I knew, but it is too costly. How came the parcel, -Fan? I think you must know all," and Sophie turned the box about, -searching vainly for a name. - -"An expressman left it, and Jane took off the wet paper and put it on my -table with the other things. Here's the wrapper; do you know that -writing?" and Fan offered the brown paper which she had kept. - -"No; and the label is all mud, so I cannot see the place. Ah, well, I -shall discover some day, but I should like to thank this generous friend -at once. See now, how fine I am! I do myself the honor to wear them at -once." - -Smiling with girlish delight at her pretty ornaments, Sophie clasped the -bracelets on her round arms, the necklace about her white throat, and -set the rosy spray in the lace on her bosom. Then she took a little -dance down the room and found herself before Di, who was looking at her -with an expression of naughty satisfaction on her face. - -"Don't you wish you knew who sent them?" - -"Indeed, yes;" and Sophie paused abruptly. - -"Well, _I_ know, and _I_ won't tell till I like. It's my turn to have a -secret; and I mean to keep it." - -"But it is not right," began Sophie, with indignation. - -"Tell me yours, and I 'll tell mine," said Di, teasingly. - -"I will not! You have no right to touch my gifts, and I am sure you -have done it, else how know you who sends this fine _cadeau_?" cried -Sophie, with the flash Di liked to see. - -Here Fanny interposed, "If you have any note or card belonging to -Sophie, give it up at once. She shall not be tormented. Out with it, -Di. I see your hand in your pocket, and I 'm sure you have been in -mischief." - -"Take your old letter, then. I know what's in it; and if I can't keep -my secret for fun, Sophie shall not have hers. That Tilly sent the -coral, and Sophie spent her hundred dollars in books and clothes for -that queer girl, who'd better stay among her lobsters than try to be a -lady," cried Di, bent on telling all she knew, while Sophie was reading -her letter eagerly. - -"Is it true?" asked Dora, for the four girls were in a corner together, -and the rest of the company busy pulling crackers. - -"Just like her! I thought it was that; but she would n't tell. Tell us -now, Sophie, for _I_ think it was truly sweet and beautiful to help that -poor girl, and let us say hard things of you," cried Fanny, as her -friend looked up with a face and a heart too full of happiness to help -overflowing into words. - -"Yes; I will tell you now. It was foolish, perhaps; but I did not want -to be praised, and I loved to help that good Tilly. You know she worked -all summer and made a little sum. So glad, so proud she was, and -planned to study that she might go to school this winter. Well, in -October the uncle fell very ill, and Tilly gave all her money for the -doctors. The uncle had been kind to her, she did not forget; she was -glad to help, and told no one but me. Then I said, 'What better can I -do with my father's gift than give it to the dear creature, and let her -lose no time?' I do it; she will not at first, but I write and say, 'It -must be,' and she submits. She is made neat with some little dresses, -and she goes at last, to be so happy and do so well that I am proud of -her. Is not that better than fine toilets and rich gifts to those who -need nothing? Truly, yes! yet I confess it cost me pain to give up my -plans for Christmas, and to seem selfish or ungrateful. Forgive me -that." - -"Yes, indeed, you dear generous thing!" cried Fan and Dora, touched by -the truth. - -"But how came Tilly to send you such a splendid present?" asked Di. -"Should n't think you 'd like her to spend your money in such things." - -"She did not. A sea-captain, a friend of the uncle, gave her these -lovely ornaments, and she sends them to me with a letter that is more -precious than all the coral in the sea. I cannot read it; but of all my -gifts _this_ is the dearest and the best!" - -Sophie had spoken eagerly, and her face, her voice, her gestures, made -the little story eloquent; but with the last words she clasped the -letter to her bosom as if it well repaid her for all the sacrifices she -had made. They might seem small to others, but she was sensitive and -proud, anxious to be loved in the strange country, and fond of giving, -so it cost her many tears to seem mean and thoughtless, to go poorly -dressed, and be thought hardly of by those she wished to please. She -did not like to tell of her own generosity, because it seemed like -boasting; and she was not sure that it had been wise to give so much. -Therefore, she waited to see if Tilly was worthy of the trust reposed in -her; and she now found a balm for many wounds in the loving letter that -came with the beautiful and unexpected gift. - -Di listened with hot cheeks, and when Sophie paused, she whispered -regretfully,-- - -"Forgive me, I was wrong! I 'll keep your gift all my life to remember -you by, for you are the best and dearest girl I know." - -Then with a hasty kiss she ran away, carrying with great care the white -shell on which Sophie had painted a dainty little picture of the -mermaids waiting for the pretty boat that brought good fortune to poor -Tilly, and this lesson to those who were hereafter her faithful friends. - - - -[Illustration: Chapter VII tailpiece] - - - - -[Illustration: "Everything is quite clean; I am sure of that, for I -washed the sheets and coverlet myself not long ago."--PAGE 207.] - - - - VIII. - - DOLLY'S BEDSTEAD. - - -"Aunt Pen, where is Ariadne to sleep, please? I wanted to bring her -cradle, but mamma said it would take up so much room I could not." - -And Alice looked about her for a resting-place for her dolly as -anxiously as if Ariadne had been a live baby. - -"Can't she lie on the sofa?" asked Aunt Pen, with that sad want of -interest in such important matters which grown-up people so often show. - -"No, indeed! Some one would sit down on her, of course; and I won't -have my darling smashed. You would n't like it yourself, aunty, and I -'m surprised at your proposing such a thing!" cried Alice, clasping her -babe with a face full of maternal indignation. - -"I beg your pardon! I really forgot that danger. I 'm not so used to -infants as you are, and that accounts for it. Now I think of it, -there's a little bedstead up garret, and you can have that. You will -find it done up in a paper in the great blue chest where all our old -toys are kept." - -Appeased by Aunt Pen's apology, Alice trotted to the attic, found the -bedstead, and came trotting back with a disappointed look on her face. - -"It is such a funny, old-fashioned thing I don't know that Ariadne will -consent to lie in it. Anyway, I must air the feather-bed and pillows -first, or she will get cold. I wish I could wash the sheets too, they -are so yellow; but there is no time now," said the little girl, bustling -round as she spoke, and laying the little bed-furniture out on the rug. - -"Everything is quite clean, my dear; I am sure of that, for I washed the -sheets and coverlet myself not long ago, because I found a nest of -little mice there the last time I looked," answered Aunt Pen, with her -eyes fixed thoughtfully on the small bedstead. - -"I guess you used to be fond of it when you were a little girl; and -that's why you keep it so nicely now, isn't it?" asked Alice, as she -dusted the carved posts and patted the canvas sacking. - -"Yes, there's quite a little romance about that bed; and I love it so -that I never can give it away, but keep it mended up and in order for -the sake of old times and poor Val," said Aunt Pen, smiling and sighing -in the same breath. - -"Oh, tell about it! I do like to hear stories, and so does Ariadne!" -cried Alice, hastily opening dolly's eyes, that she might express her -interest in the only way permitted her. - -"Well, dear, I 'll tell you this true tale of long ago; and while you -listen you can be making a new blanket for the bed. Mrs. Mouse nibbled -holes in the other one, and her babies made a mess of it, so I burned it -up. Here is a nice little square of flannel, and there are blue, red, -and green worsteds for you to work round the edges with." - -"Now that is just splendid! I love to work with crewels, and I 'll put -little quirls and things in the corners. I can do it all myself, so -tell away, please, aunty." And Alice settled herself with great -satisfaction, while Ariadne sat bolt upright in her own armchair and -stared at Aunt Pen in a way that would have been very embarrassing if -her round blue eyes had had a particle of expression in them. - -"When I was about ten years old, it was the joy of my heart to go every -Saturday afternoon to see my nurse, Betsey Brown. She no longer lived -out, but was married to a pilot, and had a home of her own down in what -we used to call 'the watery part' of the city. A funny little house, so -close to the wharves that when one looked out there were masts going to -and fro over the house-tops, and from the upper windows I could see the -blue ocean. - -"Betsey had a boy with club feet, and a brother who was deformed; but -Bobby was my pet playmate, and Valentine my best friend. My chief -pleasure was in seeing him work at his turning-lathe, for he was very -ingenious, and made all sorts of useful and pretty things. - -"But the best thing he did was to cure the lame feet of his little -nephew. In those days there were few doctors who attended to such -troubles, and they were very expensive; so poor Bobby had gone hobbling -about ever since he was born with his little feet turned in. - -"Uncle Val could sympathize with him; and though he knew there was no -cure for his own crooked back, he did his best to help the boy. He made -a very simple apparatus for straightening the crippled feet (just two -wooden splints, with wooden screws to loosen or tighten the pressure), -and with patience, hope, and faith, he worked over the child till the -feet were right, and Bobby could run and play like other children." - -"Oh, Aunt Pen, was n't that lovely? And did he really do it all -himself? How clever he must have been!" cried Alice, puckering the new -blanket in the pleasant interest of the moment. - -"He was very clever for a lad of eighteen. But that was not all he did. -Bobby's cure was a long one, and I only saw the happy end of it; yet I -remember how we all rejoiced, and how proud Betsey was of her brother. -My father wrote an account of it for some medical journal, and it was -much talked about in our little circle; so much, indeed, that an aunt of -ours who had a lame boy came to see Val and talked it all over with him. - -"Val was much pleased, and offered to try and cure her son if she would -let the boy come and live with him; for it needed great skill and -constant care to work the screws just right, and tend the poor little -feet gently. - -"Aunt Dolly said no at once to that plan; for how could she let her -precious boy go and live in that little house down in the poor part of -the city? - -"There was no other way, however, for Val would not leave his sister and -his beloved lathe, and was wise enough to see how impossible it would be -to have his own way with the child in a house where every one obeyed his -whims and petted him, as such afflicted children usually are petted. - -"So Val stood firm, and for a time nothing was done. - -"I was much interested in the affair, and every time I saw my cousin Gus -I told him what nice times I had down there; how strong and lively Bobby -was, and declared my firm belief that Val could cure every disease under -the sun. - -"These glowing accounts made Gus want to go, and when he set his heart -on anything he always got it; so in the end Aunt Dolly consented, and -Gus went to board in the little house, much to the wonder of some folks. - -"The plan succeeded capitally, however, and Gus thrived like a dandelion -in springtime; for simple food, plenty of air, no foolish indulgence, -and the most faithful care, built up the little lad in a way that -astonished and delighted us all. - -"The feet improved slowly; and Val was sure that in time they would be -all right, for everything helped on the good work. - -"Dear me, what happy days I used to spend at Betsey's! Sometimes Isaac, -the jolly, bluff pilot, would take us out in his boat; and then what -rosy cheeks and good appetites we got! Sometimes we played in Val's -shop, and watched him make pretty things or helped him in some easy job, -for he liked to have us near him. And, oh, my heart, what delicious -suppers Betsey used to get us in the front room, where all sorts of -queer sea treasures were collected,--shells, coral, and seaweed; odd -pictures of ships and fish, and old books full of sailor songs and -thrilling tales of wrecks." - -"I wish I had been there!" interrupted Alice. "Is the house all gone, -aunty?" - -"All gone, dear, and every one of that merry party but myself," answered -Aunt Pen, with a sigh. - -"Don't think about the sad part of it, but go on and tell about the bed, -please," said Alice, feeling that it was about time this interesting -piece of furniture appeared in the story. - -"Well, that was made to comfort me when Gus went home, as he did after -staying two years. Yes, he went home with straight feet, the heartiest, -happiest little lad I ever saw. - -"I was heart-broken at losing my playmate, and mourned for him as -bitterly as a child could, till Val comforted me, not only by the -cunning bedstead for my doll, but by a hundred kindly words and acts, -for which I never thanked him half enough. - -"Aunt Dolly and my father were so grateful and pleased at Val's success -with Gus that they helped him in a plan he had some years later, when he -took a larger house in a better place, and with Betsey as nurse, opened -a small hospital for the cure of deformed feet. It was an excellent -plan; and all was going well, when poor Val wasted rapidly away, and -died just as his work began to bring him money and some honor." - -"That was very bad! But what became of Bobby and Gus?" asked Alice, who -was not of an age to care much about the "sad part" of any story. - -"Bob became a sea-captain, and was an excellent fellow till he went down -with his ship in a storm after rescuing all his crew, even to the -cabin-boy. I'm proud of Bob, and keep those two great pearly shells in -memory of him, for he brought them to me after his first voyage." - -Aunt Pen's eyes lit up, and her voice rose as she spoke with real pride -and affection of honest Captain Brown, who to her was always little Bob. - -"I like that, it was so brave and good; but I do wish he had been saved, -for then I could have seen him. And maybe he would have brought me a -big green parrot that could say funny things. What became of Gus?" -asked Alice, after a moment spent in the delightful thought of owning a -green parrot with a red tail. - -"Ah, my dear, I wish I knew!" exclaimed Aunt Pen, so earnestly that -Alice dropped her work, astonished at the change in that usually quiet -face. - -"Don't tell any more if you 'd rather not," said the little girl, -feeling instinctively that she had touched some tender string. - -But Aunt Pen only stroked her curly head and went on in a softer tone, -with her eyes fixed upon a faded picture that had hung over her -work-table ever since Alice could remember. - -"I like to tell you, dear, because I want you to love the memory of this -old friend of mine. Gus went to sea also, much against his mother's -will, for the years spent in the little house near the wharf had given -the boy a taste for salt water, and he could not overcome it, though he -tried. - -"He sailed with Captain Bob all round the world, and would have been -with him on that last voyage if a sudden whim had not kept him ashore. -More than this we don't know; and for seven years have had no tidings of -him. The others give him up, feeling sure that he was lost in the wild -hill-country of India, whither he went in search of adventures. I -suppose they are right; but _I_ cannot make it true, and still hope to -see the dear boy back, or at least to hear some news of him." - -"Would n't he be rather an old boy now, Aunt Pen?" asked Alice, softly; -for she wanted to chase away the load of pain with a smile if she could. - -"Bless my heart, so he would! Forty, at least. Well, well, he never -will seem old to me, though his hair should be gray when he comes home." -And Aunt Pen did smile as her eyes went back to the faded picture with a -tender look that made Alice say timidly, while she laid her blooming -cheek against her aunt's hand,-- - -"Would you mind if I asked if it was Gus who gave you this pretty ring, -and was your sweetheart once? Mamma told me you had one, and he was -dead; so I must never ask why you did n't marry as she did." - -"Yes, he gave me this, and was to come back in a year or two; but I have -never seen him since, and never shall, I fear, till we all meet over the -great sea at last." - -There Aunt Pen broke down, and spreading her hands before her face, sat -so still that Alice feared to stir. - -Even her careless child's heart was full of pity now; and two great -tears rolled down upon the little blanket, to lie sparkling like drops -of dew in the heart of the very remarkable red rose she was working in -the middle. - -Then it was that Ariadne distinguished herself, and proved beyond a -doubt that her blue china eyes were worth something. A large, brown, -breezy-looking man had been peeping in from the door for several -moments, and listening in the most improper manner. No one saw him but -Ariadne, and how could she warn the others, poor thing, when she had n't -a tongue in her head? Don't tell me that dolls have n't hearts -somewhere in their sawdust bosoms! I know better; and I am firmly -convinced that Ariadne's was full of sympathy for Aunt Pen; else why -should she, a well-bred doll, suddenly and without the least apparent -cause, slip out of her chair and fall upon her china nose with a loud -whack? - -Alice jumped up to catch her darling, and Aunt Pen lifted her head to -see what was the matter, and the big brown man, giving his hat a toss, -came into the room like a whirlwind! - -Alice, Ariadne, bedstead, and blanket, were suddenly swept into a corner -by some mysterious means, and lay there in a heap, while the two grown -people fell into each other's arms, exclaiming,-- - -"Pen!" - -"Gus!" - -I don't know which stared the hardest at this dreadful proceeding, Alice -or Ariadne, but I do know that every one was very happy afterward, and -that the precious little bedstead was not smashed, for I have seen it -with my own eyes. - - - -[Illustration: Chapter VIII tailpiece] - - - - -[Illustration: "Well, dear, this is the story."--PAGE 220.] - - - - IX. - - TRUDEL'S SIEGE. - - -"Grandmother, what is this curious picture about?" said little Gertrude, -or "Trudel," as they called her, looking up from the red book that lay -on her knee, one Sunday morning, when she and the grandmother sat sadly -together in the neat kitchen; for the father was very ill, and the poor -mother seldom left him. - -The old woman put on her round spectacles, which made her look as wise -as an owl, and turned to answer the child, who had been as quiet as a -mouse for a long time, looking at the strange pictures in the ancient -book. - -"Ah, my dear, that tells about a very famous and glorious thing that -happened long ago at the siege of Leyden. You can read it for yourself -some day." - -"Please tell me now. Why are the houses half under water, and ships -sailing among them, and people leaning over the walls of the city? And -why is that boy waving his hands on the tower, where the men are running -away in a great smoke?" asked Trudel, too curious to wait till she could -read the long hard words on the yellow pages. - -"Well, dear, this is the story: and you shall hear how brave men and -women, and children too, were in those days. The cruel Spaniards came -and besieged the city for many months; but the faithful people would not -give up, though nearly starved to death. When all the bread and meat -were gone and the gardens empty, they ate grass and herbs and horses, -and even dogs and cats, trying to hold out till help came to them." - -"Did little girls really eat their pussies? Oh, I 'd die before I would -kill my dear Jan," cried Trudel, hugging the pretty kitten that purred -in her lap. - -"Yes, the children ate their pets. And so would you if it would save -your father or mother from starving. _We_ know what hunger is; but we -won't eat Jan yet." - -The old woman sighed as she glanced from the empty table to the hearth -where no fire burned. - -"_Did_ help come in the ships?" asked the child, bending her face over -the book to hide the tears that filled her eyes, for she was very -hungry, and had had only a crust for breakfast. - -"Our good Prince of Orange was trying to help them; but the Spaniards -were all around the city and he had not men enough to fight them by -land, so he sent carrier-doves with letters to tell the people that he -was going to cut through the great dikes that kept the sea out, and let -the water flow over the country so as to drive the enemy from his camp, -for the city stood upon high ground, and would be safe. Then the ships, -with food, could sail over the drowned land and save the brave people." - -"Oh, I 'm glad! I 'm glad! These are the bad Spaniards running away, -and these are poor people stretching out their hands for the bread. But -what is the boy doing, in the funny tower where the wall has tumbled -down?" cried Trudel, much excited. - -"The smoke of burning houses rose between the city and the port so the -people could not see that the Spaniards had run away; and they were -afraid the ships could not get safely by. But a boy who was scrambling -about as boys always are wherever there is danger, fire, and fighting, -saw the enemy go, and ran to the deserted tower to shout and beckon to -the ships to come on at once,--for the wind had changed and soon the -tide would flow back and leave them stranded." - -"Nice boy! I wish I had been there to see him and help the poor -people," said Trudel, patting the funny little figure sticking out of -the pepper-pot tower like a jack-in-the-box. - -"If children keep their wits about them and are brave, they can always -help in some way, my dear. We don't have such dreadful wars now; but -the dear God knows we have troubles enough, and need all our courage and -faith to be patient in times like these;" and the grandmother folded her -thin hands with another sigh, as she thought of her poor son dying for -want of a few comforts, after working long and faithfully for a hard -master who never came to offer any help, though a very rich man. - -"Did they eat the carrier-doves?" asked Trudel, still intent on the -story. - -"No, child; they fed and cared for them while they lived, and when they -died, stuffed and set them up in the Staat Haus, so grateful were the -brave burghers for the good news the dear birds brought." - -"That is the best part of all. I like that story very much!" And -Trudel turned the pages to find another, little dreaming what a -carrier-dove she herself was soon to become. - -Poor Hans Dort and his family were nearly as distressed as the besieged -people of Leyden, for poverty stood at the door, hunger and sickness -were within, and no ship was anywhere seen coming to bring help. The -father, who was a linen-weaver, could no longer work in the great -factory; the mother, who was a lace-maker, had to leave her work to -nurse him; and the old woman could earn only a trifle by her knitting, -being lame and feeble. Little Trudel did what she could,--sold the -stockings to get bread and medicine, picked up wood for the fire, -gathered herbs for the poor soup, and ran errands for the market-women, -who paid her with unsalable fruit, withered vegetables, and now and then -a bit of meat. - -But market-day came but once a week; and it was very hard to find food -for the hungry mouths meantime. The Dorts were too proud to beg, so -they suffered in silence, praying that help would come before it was too -late to save the sick and old. - -No other picture in the quaint book interested Trudel so much as that of -the siege of Leyden; and she went back to it, thinking over the story -till hunger made her look about for something to eat as eagerly as the -poor starving burghers. - -"Here, child, is a good crust. It is too hard for me. I kept it for -you; it's the last except that bit for your mother," said the old woman, -pulling a dry crust from her jacket with a smile; for though starving -herself, the brave old soul thought only of her darling. - -Trudel's little white teeth gnawed savagely at the hard bread, and Jan -ate the crumbs as if he too needed food. As she saw him purring about -her feet, there came into the child's head a sudden idea, born of the -brave story and of the cares that made her old before her time. - -"Poor Jan gets thinner and thinner every day. If we are to eat him, we -must do it soon, or he will not be worth cooking," she said with a -curious look on the face that used to be so round and rosy, and now was -white, thin, and anxious. - -"Bless the child! we won't eat the poor beast! but it would be kind to -give him away to some one who could feed him well. Go now, dear, and -get a jug of fresh water. The father will need it, and so will you, for -that crust is a dry dinner for my darling." - -As she spoke, the old woman held the little girl close for a minute; and -Trudel clung to her silently, finding the help she needed for her -sacrifice in the love and the example grandma gave her. - -Then she ran away, with the brown jug in one hand, the pretty kitten on -her arm, and courage in her little heart. It was a poor neighborhood -where the weavers and lace-makers lived; but nearly every one had a good -dinner on Sunday, and on her way to the fountain Trudel saw many -well-spread tables, smelled the good soup in many kettles, and looked -enviously at the plump children sitting quietly on the doorsteps in -round caps and wooden shoes, waiting to be called in to eat of the big -loaves, the brown sausages, and the cabbage-soup smoking on the hearth. - -When she came to the baker's house, her heart began to beat; and she -hugged Jan so close it was well he was thin, or he would have mewed -under the tender farewell squeezes his little mistress gave him. With a -timid hand Trudel knocked, and then went in to find Vrow Hertz and her -five boys and girls at table, with good roast meat and bread and cheese -and beer before them. - -"Oh, the dear cat! the pretty cat! Let me pat him! Hear him mew, and -see his soft white coat," cried the children, before Trudel could speak, -for they admired the snow-white kitten very much, and had often begged -for it. - -Trudel had made up her mind to give up to them at last her one treasure; -but she wished to be paid for it, and was bound to tell her plan. Jan -helped her, for smelling the meat, he leaped from her arms to the table -and began to gnaw a bone on Dirck's plate, which so amused the young -people that they did not hear Trudel say to their mother in a low voice, -with red cheeks and beseeching eyes,-- - -"Dear Vrow Hertz, the father is very ill; the mother cannot work at her -lace in the dark room; and grandma makes but little by knitting, though -I help all I can. We have no food; can you give me a loaf of bread in -exchange for Jan? I have nothing else to sell, and the children want him -much." - -Trudel's eyes were full and her lips trembled, as she ended with a look -that went straight to stout Mother Hertz's kind heart, and told the -whole sad story. - -"Bless the dear child! Indeed, yes; a loaf and welcome; and see here, a -good sausage also. Brenda, go fill the jug with milk. It is excellent -for the sick man. As for the cat, let it stay a while and get fat, then -we will see. It is a pretty beast and worth many loaves of bread; so -come again, Trudel, and do not suffer hunger while I have much bread." - -As the kind woman spoke, she had bustled about, and before Trudel could -get her breath, a big loaf, a long sausage, and a jug of fresh milk were -in her apron and hands, and a motherly kiss made the gifts all the -easier to take. Returning it heartily, and telling the children to be -kind to Jan, she hastened home to burst into the quiet room, crying -joyfully,-- - -"See, grandmother, here is food,--all mine. I bought it! Come, come, -and eat!" - -"Now, dear Heaven, what do I see? Where did the blessed bread come -from?" asked the old woman, hugging the big loaf, and eying the sausage -with such hunger in her face that Trudel ran for the knife and cup, and -held a draught of fresh milk to her grandmother's lips before she could -answer a single question. - -"Stay, child, let us give thanks before we eat. Never was food more -welcome or hearts more grateful;" and folding her hands, the pious old -woman blessed the meal that seemed to fall from heaven on that bare -table. Then Trudel cut the crusty slice for herself, a large soft one -for grandmother, with a good bit of sausage, and refilled the cup. -Another portion and cup went upstairs to mother, whom she found asleep, -with the father's hot hand in hers. So leaving the surprise for her -waking, Trudel crept down to eat her own dinner, as hungry as a little -wolf, amusing herself with making the old woman guess where and how she -got this fine feast. - -"This is our siege, grandmother; and we are eating Jan," she said at -last, with the merriest laugh she had given for weeks. - -"Eating Jan?" cried the old woman, staring at the sausage, as if for a -moment she feared the kitten had been turned into that welcome shape by -some miracle. Still laughing, Trudel told her story, and was well -rewarded for her childish sacrifice by the look in grandmother's face as -she said with a tender kiss,-- - -"Thou art a carrier-dove, my darling, coming home with good news and -comfort under thy wing. God bless thee, my brave little heart, and -grant that our siege be not a long one before help comes to us!" - -Such a happy feast! and for dessert more kisses and praises for Trudel -when the mother came down to hear the story and to tell how eagerly -father had drank the fresh milk and gone to sleep again. Trudel was -very well pleased with her bargain; but at night she missed Jan's soft -purr for her lullaby, and cried herself to sleep, grieving for her lost -pet, being only a child, after all, though trying to be a brave little -woman for the sake of those she loved. - -The big loaf and sausage took them nicely through the next day; but by -Tuesday only crusts remained, and sorrel-soup, slightly flavored with -the last scrap of sausage, was all they had to eat. - -On Wednesday morning, Trudel had plaited her long yellow braids with -care, smoothed down her one blue skirt, and put on her little black silk -cap, making ready for the day's work. She was weak and hungry, but -showed a bright face as she took her old basket and said,-- - -"Now I am off to market, grandmother, to sell the hose and get medicine -and milk for father. I shall try to pick up something for dinner. The -good neighbors often let me run errands for them, and give me a kuchen, -a bit of cheese, or a taste of their nice coffee. I will bring you -something, and come as soon as I can." - -The old woman nodded and smiled, as she scoured the empty kettle till it -shone, and watched the little figure trudge away with the big empty -basket, and, she knew, with a still emptier little stomach. "Coffee!" -sighed the grandmother; "one sip of the blessed drink would put life -into me. When shall I ever taste it again?" and the poor soul sat down -to her knitting with hands that trembled from weakness. - -The Platz was a busy and a noisy scene when Trudel arrived,--for the -thrifty Dutchwomen were early afoot; and stalls, carts, baskets, and -cans were already arranged to make the most attractive display of fruit, -vegetables, fish, cheese, butter, eggs, milk, and poultry, and the small -wares country people came to buy. - -Nodding and smiling, Trudel made her way through the bustle to the booth -where old Vrow Schmidt bought and sold the blue woollen hose that adorn -the stout legs of young and old. - -"Good-morning, child! I am glad to see thee and thy well-knit -stockings, for I have orders for three pairs, and promised thy -grandmother's, they are always so excellent," said the rosy-faced woman, -as Trudel approached. - -"I have but one pair. We had no money to buy more yarn. Father is so -ill mother cannot work; and medicines cost a deal," said the child, with -her large hungry eyes fixed on the breakfast the old woman was about to -eat, first having made ready for the business of the day. - -"See, then, I shall give thee the yarn and wait for the hose; I can -trust thee, and shall ask a good price for the good work. Thou too wilt -have the fever, I 'm afraid!--so pale and thin, poor child! Here, drink -from my cup, and take a bite of bread and cheese. The morning air makes -one hungry." - -Trudel eagerly accepted the "sup" and the "bite," and felt new strength -flow into her as the warm draught and good brown bread went down her -throat. - -"So many thanks! I had no breakfast. I came to see if I could get any -errands here to-day, for I want to earn a bit if I can," she said with a -sigh of satisfaction, as she slipped half of her generous slice and a -good bit of cheese into her basket, regretting that the coffee could not -be shared also. - -As if to answer her wish, a loud cry from fat Mother Kinkle, the -fish-wife, rose at that moment, for a thievish cur had run off with a -fish from her stall, while she gossiped with a neighbor. - -Down went Trudel's basket, and away went Trudel's wooden shoes -clattering over the stones while she raced after the dog, dodging in and -out among the stalls till she cornered the thief under Gretchen Horn's -milk-cart; for at sight of the big dog who drew the four copper-cans, -the cur lost heart and dropped the fish and ran away. - -"Well done!" said buxom Gretchen, when Trudel caught up the rescued -treasure a good deal the worse for the dog's teeth and the dust it had -been dragged through. - -All the market-women laughed as the little girl came back proudly -bearing the fish, for the race had amused them. But Mother Kinkle said -with a sigh, when she saw the damage done her property,-- - -"It is spoiled; no one will buy that torn, dirty thing. Throw it on the -muck-pile, child; your trouble was in vain, though I thank you for it." - -"Give it to me, please, if you don't want it. We can eat it, and would -be glad of it at home," cried Trudel, hugging the slippery fish with -joy, for she saw a dinner in it, and felt that her run was well paid. - -"Take it, then, and be off; I see Vrow von Decken's cook coming, and you -are in the way," answered the old woman, who was not a very amiable -person, as every one knew. - -"That's a fine reward to make a child for running the breath out of her -body for you," said Dame Troost, the handsome farm-wife who sat close by -among her fruit and vegetables, as fresh as her cabbages, and as rosy as -her cherries. - -"Better it, then, and give her a feast fit for a burgomaster. _You_ can -afford it," growled Mother Kinkle, turning her back on the other woman -in a huff. - -"That I will, for very shame at such meanness! Here, child, take these -for thy fish-stew, and these for thy little self," said the kind soul, -throwing half a dozen potatoes and onions into the basket, and handing -Trudel a cabbage-leaf full of cherries. - -A happy girl was our little house-wife on her way home, when the milk -and medicine and loaf of bread were bought; and a comfortable dinner was -quickly cooked and gratefully eaten in Dort's poor house that day. - -"Surely the saints must help you, child, and open people's hearts to our -need; for you come back each day with food for us,--like the ravens to -the people in the wilderness," said the grandmother when they sat at -table. - -"If they do, it is because you pray to them so heartily, mother. But I -think the sweet ways and thin face of my Trudel do much to win kindness, -and the good God makes her our little house-mother, while I must sit -idle," answered Vrow Dort; and she filled the child's platter again that -she, at least, might have enough. - -"I like it!" cried Trudel, munching an onion with her bread, while her -eyes shone and a pretty color came into her cheeks. "I feel so old and -brave now, so glad to help; and things happen, and I keep thinking what -I will do next to get food. It's like the birds out yonder in the -hedge, trying to feed their little ones. I fly up and down, pick and -scratch, get a bit here and a bit there, and then my dear _old_ birds -have food to eat." - -It really was very much as Trudel said, for her small wits were getting -very sharp with these new cares; she lay awake that night trying to plan -how she should provide the next day's food for her family. - -"Where now, thou dear little mother-bird?" asked the "Grossmutter" next -morning, when the child had washed the last dish, and was setting away -the remains of the loaf. - -"To Gretti Jansen's, to see if she wants me to water her linen, as I -used to do for play. She is lame, and it tires her to go to the spring -so often. She will like me to help her, I hope; and I shall ask her for -some food to pay me. Oh, I am very bold now! Soon will I beg if no -other way offers." And Trudel shook her yellow head resolutely, and -went to settle the stool at grandmother's feet, and to draw the curtain -so that it would shield the old eyes from the summer sun. - -"Heaven grant it never comes to that! It would be very hard to bear, -yet perhaps we must if no help arrives. The doctor's bill, the rent, -the good food thy father will soon need, will take far more than we can -earn; and what will become of us, the saints only know!" answered the -old woman, knitting briskly in spite of her sad forebodings. - -"_I_ will do it all! I don't know how, but I shall try; and, as you -often say, 'Have faith and hold up thy hands; God will fill them.'" - -Then Trudel went away to her work, with a stout heart under her little -blue bodice; and all that summer day she trudged to and fro along the -webs of linen spread in the green meadow, watering them as fast as they -dried, knitting busily under a tree during the intervals. - -Old Gretti was glad to have her, and at noon called her in to share the -milk-soup, with cherries and herrings in it, and a pot of coffee,--as -well as Dutch cheese, and bread full of coriander-seed. Though this was -a feast to Trudel, one bowl of soup and a bit of bread was all she ate; -then, with a face that was not half as "bold" as she tried to make it, -she asked if she might run home and take the coffee to grandmother, who -longed for and needed it so much. - -"Yes, indeed; there, let me fill that pewter jug with a good hot mess -for the old lady, and take this also. I have little to give, but I -remember how good she was to me in the winter, when my poor legs were so -bad, and no one else thought of me," said grateful Gretti, mixing more -coffee, and tucking a bit of fresh butter into half a loaf of bread with -a crusty end to cover the hole. - -Away ran Trudel; and when grandmother saw the "blessed coffee," as she -called it, she could only sip and sigh for comfort and content, so glad -was the poor old soul to taste her favorite drink again. The mother -smelled it, and came down to take her share, while Trudel skipped away -to go on watering the linen till sunset with a happy heart, saying to -herself while she trotted and splashed,-- - -"This day is well over, and I have kept my word. Now what _can_ I do -to-morrow? Gretti does n't want me; there is no market; I must not beg -yet, and I cannot finish the hose so soon. - -"I know! I 'll get water-cresses, and sell them from door to door. -They are fresh now, and people like them. Ah, thou dear duck, thank -thee for reminding me of them," she cried, as she watched a mother-duck -lead her brood along the brook's edge, picking and dabbling among the -weeds to show them where to feed. - -Early next morning Trudel took her basket and went away to the meadows -that lay just out of the town, where the rich folk had their summer -houses, and fish-ponds, and gardens. These gardens were gay now with -tulips, the delight of Dutch people; for they know best how to cultivate -them, and often make fortunes out of the splendid and costly flowers. - -When Trudel had looked long and carefully for cresses, and found very -few, she sat down to rest, weary and disappointed, on a green bank from -which she could overlook a fine garden all ablaze with tulips. She -admired them heartily, longed to have a bed of them her own, and feasted -her childish eyes on the brilliant colors till they were dazzled, for -the long beds of purple and yellow, red and white blossoms were splendid -to see, and in the midst of all a mound of dragon-tulips rose like a -queen's throne, scarlet, green, and gold all mingled on the ruffled -leaves that waved in the wind. - -Suddenly it seemed as if one of the great flowers had blown over the -wall and was hopping along the path in a very curious way! In a minute, -however, she saw that it was a gay parrot that had escaped, and would -have flown away if its clipped wings and a broken chain on one leg had -not kept it down. - -Trudel laughed to see the bird scuttle along, jabbering to itself, and -looking very mischievous and naughty as it ran away. She was just -thinking she ought to stop it, when the garden-gate opened, and a pretty -little boy came out, calling anxiously,-- - -"Prince! Prince! Come back, you bad bird! I never will let you off -your perch again, sly rascal!" - -"I will get him;" and Trudel ran down the bank after the runaway, for -the lad was small and leaned upon a little crutch. - -"Be careful! He will bite!" called the boy. - -"I 'm not afraid," answered Trudel; and she stepped on the chain, which -brought the "Prince of Orange" to a very undignified and sudden halt. -But when she tried to catch him up by his legs, the sharp black beak -gave a nip and held tightly to her arm. It hurt her much, but she did -not let go, and carried her captive back to its master, who thanked her, -and begged her to come in and chain up the bad bird, for he was -evidently rather afraid of it. - -Glad to see more of the splendid garden, Trudel did what he asked, and -with a good deal of fluttering, scolding, and pecking, the Prince was -again settled on his perch. - -"Your arm is bleeding! Let me tie it up for you; and here is my cake to -pay you for helping me. Mamma would have been very angry if Prince had -been lost," said the boy, as he wet his little handkerchief in a tank of -water near by, and tied up Trudel's arm. - -The tank was surrounded by pots of tulips; and on a rustic seat lay the -lad's hat and a delicious large kuchen, covered with comfits and sugar. -The hungry girl accepted it gladly, but only nibbled at it, remembering -those at home. The boy thought she did not like it, and being a generous -little fellow and very grateful for her help, he looked about for -something else to give her. Seeing her eyes fixed admiringly on a -pretty red jar that held a dragon-tulip just ready to bloom, he said -pleasantly,-- - -"Would you like this also? All these are mine, and I can do as I like -with them. Will you have it?" - -"Oh, yes, with thanks! It is _so_ beautiful! I longed for one, but -never thought to get it," cried Trudel, receiving the pot with delight. - -Then she hastened toward home to show her prize, only stopping to sell -her little bunches of cresses for a few groschen, with which she bought -a loaf and three herrings to eat with it. The cake and the flower gave -quite the air of a feast to the poor meal, but Trudel and the two women -enjoyed it all, for the doctor said that the father was better, and now -needed only good meat and wine to grow strong and well again. - -How to get these costly things no one knew, but trusted they would come, -and all fell to work with lighter hearts. The mother sat again at her -lace-work, for now a ray of light could be allowed to fall on her pillow -and bobbins by the window of the sick-room. The old woman's fingers -flew as she knit at one long blue stocking; and Trudel's little hands -tugged away at the other, while she cheered her dull task by looking -fondly at her dear tulip unfolding in the sun. - -She began to knit next day as soon as the breakfast of dry bread and -water was done; but she took her work to the doorstep and thought busily -as the needles clicked, for where _could_ she get money enough for meat -and wine? The pretty pot stood beside her, and the tulip showed its gay -leaves now, just ready to bloom. She was very proud of it, and smiled -and nodded gayly when a neighbor said in passing, "A fine flower you -have there." - -Soon she forgot it, however, so hard was her little brain at work, and -for a long time she sat with her eyes fixed on her busy hands so -intently that she neither heard steps approaching, nor saw a maid and a -little girl looking over the low fence at her. Suddenly some words in a -strange language made her look up. The child was pointing at the tulip -and talking fast in English to the maid, who shook her head and tried to -lead her on. - -She was a pretty little creature, all in white with a gay hat, curly -locks, and a great doll in one arm, while the other held a box of -bonbons. Trudel smiled when she saw the doll; and as if the friendly -look decided her, the little girl ran up to the door, pointed to the -flower, and asked a question in the queer tongue which Trudel could not -understand. The maid followed, and said in Dutch, "Fräulein Maud wishes -the flower. Will you give it to her, child?" - -"Oh, no, no! I love it. I will keep it, for now Jan is gone, it is all -I have!" answered Trudel, taking the pot in her lap to guard her one -treasure. - -The child frowned, chattered eagerly, and offered the box of sweets, as -if used to having her wishes gratified at once. But Trudel shook her -head, for much as she loved "sugar-drops," she loved the splendid flower -better, like a true little Dutchwoman. - -Then Miss Maud offered the doll, bent on having her own way. Trudel -hesitated a moment, for the fine lady doll in pink silk, with a feather -in her hat, and tiny shoes on her feet, was very tempting to her -childish soul. But she felt that so dainty a thing was not for her, and -her old wooden darling, with the staring eyes and broken nose, was -dearer to her than the delicate stranger could ever be. So she smiled -to soothe the disappointed child, but shook her head again. - -At that, the English lassie lost her temper, stamped her foot, scolded, -and began to cry, ordering the maid to take the flower and come away at -once. - -"She _will_ have it; and she must not cry. Here, child, will you sell it -for this?" said the maid, pulling a handful of groschen out of her deep -pocket, sure that Trudel would yield now. - -But the little house-mother's quick eye saw that the whole handful would -not buy the meat and wine, much as it looked, and for the third time she -shook her yellow head. There was a longing look in her face, however; -and the shrewd maid saw it, guessed that money would win the day, and -diving again into her apron-pocket, brought out a silver gulden and held -it up. - -"For this, then, little miser? It is more than the silly flower is -worth; but the young fräulein must have all she wants, so take it and -let us be done with the crying." - -A struggle went on in Trudel's mind; and for a moment she did not speak. -She longed to keep her dear tulip, her one joy, and it seemed so hard to -let it go before she had even seen it blossom once; but then the money -would do much, and her loving little heart yearned to give poor father -all he needed. Just then her mother's voice came down from the open -window, softly singing an old hymn to lull the sick man to sleep. That -settled the matter for the dutiful daughter; tears rose to her eyes, and -she found it very hard to say with a farewell caress of the blue and -yellow pot as she gave it up,-- - -"You may have it; but it _is_ worth more than a gulden, for it is a -dragon-tulip, the finest we have. Could you give a little more? my -father is very sick, and we are very poor." - -The stout maid had a kind heart under her white muslin neckerchief; and -while Miss Maud seized the flower, good Marta put another gulden into -Trudel's hand before she hastened after her charge, who made off with -her booty, as if fearing to lose it. - -Trudel watched the child with the half-opened tulip nodding over her -shoulder, as though it sadly said "good-by" to its former mistress, till -her dim eyes could see no longer. Then she covered her face with her -apron and sobbed very quietly, lest grandmother should hear and be -troubled. But Trudel was a brave child, and soon the tears stopped, the -blue eyes looked gladly at the money in her hand, and presently, when -the fresh wind had cooled her cheeks, she went in to show her treasure -and cheer up the anxious hearts with her good news. - -She made light of the loss of her flower, and still knitting, went -briskly off to get the meat and wine for father, and if the money held -out, some coffee for grandmother, some eggs and white rolls for mother, -who was weak and worn with her long nursing. - -"Surely, the dear God does help me," thought the pious little maid, -while she trudged back with her parcels, quite cheery again, though no -pretty kitten ran to meet her, and no gay tulip stood full-blown in the -noonday sun. - -Still more happy was she over her small sacrifices when she saw her -father sip a little of the good broth grandmother made with such care, -and saw the color come into the pale cheeks of the dear mother after she -had taken the eggs and fine bread, with a cup of coffee to strengthen -and refresh her. - -"We have enough for to-day, and for father to-morrow; but on Sunday we -must fast as well as pray, unless the hose be done and paid for in -time," said the old woman next morning, surveying their small store of -food with an anxious eye. - -"I will work hard, and go to Vrow Schmidt's the minute we are done. But -now I must run and get wood, else the broth will not be ready," answered -Trudel, clattering on her wooden shoes in a great hurry. - -"If all else fails, I too shall make my sacrifice as well as you, my -heart's darling. I cannot knit as I once did, and if we are not done, -or Vrow Schmidt be away, I will sell my ring and so feed the flock till -Monday," said the grandmother, lifting up one thin old hand, where shone -the wedding-ring she had worn so many years. - -"Ah, no,--not that! It was so sad to see your gold beads go, and -mother's ear-rings and father's coat and Jan and my lovely flower! We -will not sell the dear old ring. I will find a way. Something will -happen, as before; so wait a little, and trust to me," cried Trudel, -with her arms about the grandmother, and such a resolute nod that the -rusty little black cap fell over her nose and extinguished her. - -She laughed as she righted it, and went singing away, as if not a care -lay heavy on her young heart. But when she came to the long dike which -kept the waters of the lake from overflowing the fields below, she -walked slowly to rest her tired legs, and to refresh her eyes with the -blue sheet of water on one side and the still bluer flax-fields on the -other,--for they were in full bloom, and the delicate flowers danced -like fairies in the wind. - -It was a lonely place, but Trudel liked it, and went on toward the wood, -turning the heel of her stocking while she walked,--pausing now and then -to look over at the sluice-gates which stood here and there ready to let -off the water when autumn rains made the lake rise, or in the spring -when the flax-fields were overflowed before the seed was sown. At the -last of these she paused to gather a bunch of yellow stone-crop growing -from a niche in the strong wall which, with earth and beams, made the -dike. As she stooped, the sound of voices in the arch below came up to -her distinctly. Few people came that way except little girls, like -herself, to gather fagots in the wood, or truant lads to fish in the -pond. Thinking the hidden speakers must be some of these boys, she -knelt down behind the shrubs that grew along the banks, and listened -with a smile on her lips to hear what mischief the naughty fellows were -planning. But the smile soon changed to a look of terror; and she -crouched low behind the bushes to catch all that was said in the echoing -arch below. - -"How did I think of the thing? Why, that is the best part of the joke! -Mein Herr von Vost put it into my head himself," said a man's gruff -voice, in answer to some question. "This is the way it was: I sat at -the window of the beer-house, and Von Vost met the burgomaster close by -and said, 'My friend, I hear that the lower sluice-gate needs looking -to. Please see to it speedily, for an overflow now would ruin my -flax-fields, and cause many of my looms to stand still next winter.' -'So! It shall be looked to next week. Such a misfortune shall not -befall you, my good neighbor,' said the burgomaster; and they parted. -'Ah, ha!' thinks I to myself, 'here we have a fine way to revenge -ourselves on Master von Vost, who turned us off and leaves us to starve. -We have but to see that the old gate gives way _between_ now and -_Monday_, and that hard man will suffer in the only place where he _can_ -feel,--his pocket.'" - -Here the gruff voice broke into a low laugh, and another man said -slowly,-- - -"A good plan; but is there no danger of being found out, Peit Stensen?" - -"Not a chance of it! See here, Deitrich, a quiet blow or two, at night -when none can hear it, will break away these rotten boards and let the -water in. The rest--it will do itself; and by morning those great -fields will be many feet under water, and Von Vost's crop ruined. Yes, -we _will_ stop his looms for him, and other men besides you and I and -Niklas Haas will stand idle with starving children round them. Come, -will you lend a hand? Niklas is away looking for work, and Hans Dort is -sick, or they might be glad to help us." - -"Hans would never do it. He is sober, and so good a weaver he will -never want work when he is well. I _will_ be with you, Peit; but swear -not to tell it, whatever happens, for you and I have bad names now, and -it would go hard with us." - -"I 'll swear anything; but have no fear. We will not only be revenged -on the master, but get the job of repairing; since men are scarce and -the need will be great when the flood is discovered. See, then, how -fine a plan it is! and meet me here at twelve to-night with a shovel and -pick. Mine are already hidden in the wood yonder. Now, come and see -where we must strike, and then slip home the other way; we must not be -seen here by any one." - -There the voices stopped, and steps were heard going deeper into the -arch. Trudel, pale with fear, rose to her feet, slipped off her sabots, -and ran away along the dike like a startled rabbit, never pausing till -she was safely round the corner and out of sight. Then she took breath, -and tried to think what to do first. It was of no use to go home and -tell the story there. Father was too ill to hear it or to help; and if -she told the neighbors, the secret would soon be known everywhere and -might bring danger on them all. No, she must go at once to Mein Herr -von Vost and tell him alone, begging him to let no one know what she had -heard, but to prevent the mischief the men threatened, as if by -accident. Then all would be safe, and the pretty flax-fields kept from -drowning. It was a long way to the "master's," as he was called, -because he owned the linen factories, where all day many looms jangled, -and many men and women worked busily to fill his warehouses and ships -with piles of the fine white cloth, famous all the world over. - -But forgetting the wood, father's broth, granny's coffee, and even the -knitting which she still held, Trudel went as fast as she could toward -the country-house, where Mein Herr von Vost would probably be at his -breakfast. - -She was faint now with hunger and heat, for the day grew hot, and the -anxiety she felt made her heart flutter while she hurried along the -dusty road till she came to the pretty house in its gay garden, where -some children were playing. Anxious not to be seen, Trudel slipped up -the steps, and in at the open window of a room where she saw the master -and his wife sitting at table. Both looked surprised to see a shabby, -breathless little girl enter in that curious fashion; but something in -her face told them that she came on an important errand, and putting -down his cup, the gentleman said quickly,-- - -"Well, girl, what is it?" - -In a few words Trudel told her story, adding with a beseeching gesture, -"Dear sir, please do not tell that I betrayed bad Peit and Deitrich. -They know father, and may do him some harm if they discover that I told -you this. We are so poor, so unhappy now, we cannot bear any more;" and -quite overcome with the troubles that filled her little heart, and the -fatigue and the hunger that weakened her little body, Trudel dropped -down at Von Vost's feet as if she were dead. - -When she came to herself, she was lying on a velvet sofa and the -sweet-faced lady was holding wine to her lips, while Mein Herr von Vost -marched up and down the room with his flowered dressing-gown waving -behind him, and a frown on his brow. Trudel sat up and said she was -quite well; but the little white face and the hungry eyes that wandered -to the breakfast-table, told the truth, and the good frau had a plate of -food and a cup of warm milk before her in a moment. - -"Eat, my poor child, and rest a little, while the master considers what -is best to be done, and how to reward the brave little messenger who -came so far to save his property," said the motherly lady, fanning -Trudel, who ate heartily, hardly knowing what she ate, except that it -was very delicious after so much bread and water. - -In a few moments Herr von Vost paused before the sofa and said kindly, -though his eyes were stern and his face looked hard,-- - -"See, then, thus shall I arrange the affair, and all will be well. I -will myself go to see the old gate, as if made anxious lest the -burgomaster should forget his promise. I find it in a dangerous state, -and at once set my men at work. The rascals are disappointed of both -revenge and wages, and I can soon take care of them in other ways, for -they are drunken fellows, and are easily clapped into prison and kept -safely there till ready to work and to stop plotting mischief. No one -shall know your part in it, my girl; but I do not forget it. Tell your -father his loom waits for him. Meanwhile, here is something to help -while he must be idle." - -Trudel's plate nearly fell out of her hands as a great gold-piece -dropped into her lap; and she could only stammer her thanks with tears -of joy, and a mouth full of bread and butter. - -"He is a kind man, but a busy one, and people call him 'hard.' You will -not find him so hereafter, for he never forgets a favor, nor do I. Eat -well, dear child, and wait till you are rested. I will get a basket of -comforts for the sick man. Who else needs help at home?" - -So kindly did Frau von Vost look and speak that Trudel told all her sad -tale freely, for the master had gone at once to see to the dike, after a -nod and a pat on the child's head, which made her quite sure that he was -not as hard as people said. - -When she had opened her heart to the friendly lady, Trudel was left to -rest a few moments, and lay luxuriously on the yellow sofa staring at -the handsome things about her, and eating pretzels till Frau von Vost -returned with the promised basket, out of which peeped the neck of a -wine-bottle, the legs of a chicken, glimpses of grapes, and many neat -parcels of good things. - -"My servant goes to market and will carry this for you till you are near -home. Go, little Trudel; and God bless you for saving us from a great -misfortune!" said the lady; and she kissed the happy child and led her -to the back door, where stood the little cart with an old man to drive -the fat horse, and many baskets to be filled in town. - -Such a lovely drive our Trudel had that day! no queen in a splendid -chariot ever felt prouder, for all her cares were gone, gold was in her -pocket, food at her feet, and friends secured to make times easier for -all. No need to tell how joyfully she was welcomed at home, nor what -praises she received when her secret was confided to mother and -grandmother, nor what a feast was spread in the poor house that -day,--for patience, courage, and trust in God had won the battle, the -enemy had fled, and Trudel's hard siege was over. - - - -[Illustration: Chapter IX tailpiece] - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LULU'S LIBRARY, VOLUME III (OF -3) *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/40683 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. 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